“So you say.”
She stepped in front of him and grabbed his arm. Her eyes—whites, irises, and pupils together—flashed a solid, glowing violet. “If I wanted to hurt you I’ve had plenty of chances. You want a fucking signed affidavit?”
Her eyes returned to normal. Michael stared her down through his consternation. “Point taken,” he said after a moment, and then stepped around her and continued. She let him. “But doesn’t it bother you at all that you might be getting played?”
“Michael, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the freelancer life may pay well, it may be challenging, it may set your blood pounding in a rush that gets you jazzed for the whole night in a single moment, but it is not perfect.”
“So, yes, in other words.”
She shrugged. “I like the way I said it better.”
“At least give me the email address he contacted you from. Maybe Holes can get some info on it.”
The clack of Jade’s boots along the sidewalk punctuated her silence for what must have been another twenty yards. “Fine. We get somewhere safe and I’ll give it over. Just tell Holes not to let whoever it is know I gave it to you.”
“What about your email address?”
“To quote your little computer friend: nope.”
“I’d trust you a little more if you’d—”
“Let you read my email?” she finished. “Life’s rough all over, guy.”
“Fair enough.”
Michael felt the first sprinkles of rain brush his face and remembered he ought to be looking for a cab. He cast about for one and found his eyes lingering a moment on hers. “Cool flash thing your eyes did, by the way. Nice effect.”
“Mm. They do that on their own with the right trigger. Blood pressure, adrenal spikes and such. Gotta have style, you know? Oh, hey: taxi!”
She flagged it down. Once it pulled up, Jade checked the cab’s interior and then, apparently satisfied, held the door to watch the area while he got in. He let her.
He’d need to find a moment in private to tell Holes to find Jade’s email address and, regardless of her protests, check her account to make sure she was on the level. Could the A.I. manage that? Marc had seemed confident in its abilities whenever he talked about it. Michael’s gut was telling him nothing on her; with all that was going on, he had to try, just to be careful.
She clambered in beside him. The door clapped shut.
The driver didn’t bother to turn his head. His voice filtered through the holes in the bulletproof glass between them. “Where to?”
Michael considered the question. Get somewhere safe, Jade had said. Where was safe now?
VIII
“FUCK IT, HE’S BLOCKING the screen. Let me move around and—”
Caitlin put a hand on Rue’s shoulder to hold her back. “He’ll see you.” The man they were trailing had his back to them. It blocked their view of the ticket kiosk at which he stood.
“Not all-up-in-his-shit close, just enough to see past him.”
Rue’s eyes were artificial; she could zoom in from a distance. Yet given the kiosk’s position in the crowded, Romanesque train station . . . “There’s nowhere to see around him without getting too near. We’ll keep following. See which platform he chooses.”
Rue scowled, adjusted her jacket, and pulled her jet black hair out from under the back of its collar. “You’re the boss.”
“I’m not the boss, I just—” Caitlin turned to Rue, still watching the kiosk out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks for helping with this, Rue.”
Rue flashed a crooked smile that made her silver lip piercing twinkle. “We’re both Scry, Cait.”
“Aye.”
Their quarry completed his ticket purchase and Caitlin ducked behind a stone pillar as he turned. She waited for Rue to motion that the coast was clear. For likely the fifth time in as many minutes, Caitlin swallowed her guilt for stalking Felix this way. Yet what choice did she have? It was for his own good.
She caught sight of the back of Felix’s head as he passed. He was making for the southbound platforms and she ducked back farther. Rue began to tail him anew a few moments later. She waived Caitlin forward with a motion behind her back. Caitlin let her vanish into the crowd as much as she dared—Rue was only a few inches taller than she and neither were blessed with height—and then emerged from her hiding spot.
What if he spied her? Or recognized Rue? “Well, then, Caitlin,” she whispered to herself, “I guess you’ll just have to have it out in the train station, won’t you?”
She could no longer see him. Ahead, Rue turned down the tunnel toward Platform 2.
Caitlin’s phone rang. She dove into her jacket to silence it before Felix picked up the distinctive Celtic tune. Bollocks, she should have thought of that! Though likely too far ahead to hear through the crowd, her boyfriend was hyper-alert at the worst of times.
The caller ID read Michael Flynn. Michael himself, or just someone using his phone? She answered the call and tucked in against the edge of the tunnel, her eyes fixed on Rue further down. “Michael? You’re awake?” A trace of relief covered her like a momentary dry spot in a storm.
“Hi, Caitlin. I’m out of the hospital and trying to catch up. Can you and Felix meet me somewhere? I tried calling him but—”
“Felix is a mite indisposed at the moment.” Rue had paused at the tunnel’s exit and appeared to be keeping an eye on both the platform and Caitlin. Really, Caitlin was slowing Rue down. What if they lost track of Felix? “But I can meet you. I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah, I stopped by Marc’s place. Holes said you’d been trying to reach him. Holes is spoofing my phone number for the moment too, by the way. Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly.”
“Makes two of us, then.”
“Oh, lovely. Give me a wee moment to break away and I’ll be along.”
Michael suggested a club downtown that she knew only by reputation. “I should mention that some freelancers just tried to kill me, so if you don’t want to—”
“I’ll be there.”
“Be careful.”
“Aye, likewise.” She started up the tunnel towards Rue and motioned for her to meet her halfway. “And Michael? I’m glad you’re awake.”
Her phone was back in her jacket and silenced a moment later.
“He got on the eight o’clock toward Gibson,” Rue said. “Gives us five minutes to get tickets, if we’re going.”
Caitlin swallowed, torn. The city of Gibson was fifty miles east. “You’re going,” she said. “If you’re up for it. I have to meet someone else who may be able to help. I fear I’m only slowing you down anyway.”
Rue bit her lip. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll pay for the ticket.”
“Look, I’ve got it. I’ll call you when he gets off the train.”
Caitlin hugged her. “Diolch. I owe you.”
“Both Scry,” Rue reminded her. “And I like trains.”
“So,” Michael finished, hoping he hadn’t rushed telling of the attack at Marc’s apartment, “after we got out of there and figured we weren’t followed, I tried you and Felix and we came here.”
Caitlin sat across the tiny table from him. Flashes of red and blue reflected in her eyes from numerous sources around them. The white aura of the leaves behind her set a glow radiating along her hair. “Crikey,” she said. “I’m glad you escaped. Poor Marc; he liked that flat.”
“Have you heard from him?” Michael asked.
She shook her head. “Not since we all parted ways.”
He’d expected as much, but it was worth asking. Now at a loss, Michael glanced to where Jade kept watch over them, twenty feet away and standing with her back nestled in a wall covered in ivy. The ivy stalks pulsed lavender in time with the electro-symphonic music that wove through the club.
The place was called Chlorophyll, and Michael loved it. It was an impression he’d formed within the first few minutes of his arri
val that evening. Once he and Jade had stepped through the door, a rush of comfort and vibrancy had enveloped him. It was as if he’d walked through a portal from Northgate’s cold concrete into a forest at night: bushes and ferns lined the walls. Exotic trees reached up toward the ceiling, draping broad leaves or long needles into the open spaces through which patrons moved or sat. Flowering vines dangled above the bar and what he could see of a dance floor. Though Michael was certain the plants were painstakingly placed, the club had done so with such skill as to create what felt like a fully organic space.
All around him radiated life. As if that weren’t enough to enchant his senses, the plants themselves were aglow—lit, Jade had explained, from inside via some form of genetically engineered bioluminescence. Some glowed in gentle, steady auras, but not all: a peace lily toward the entrance was zigzagged with crimson that shone brighter when he passed. Others didn’t react until curious patrons touched them, at which point they burst with natural patterns across their leaves. And some, like the pulsing ivy in which Jade had ensconced herself, appeared to sense the beat of the sounds that echoed around it. Though the type of vegetation varied from room to room—a forest here, a jungle there—the entire place seemed filled with a sort of magic that glowed amid the darkness behind the leaves.
Michael wasn’t much for clubs, but knew he would return to this one. Twice before they’d found the table at which they’d waited for Caitlin, Jade had caught Michael with his mouth hanging open. She had giggled at him each time. Though stung by the worry that he looked unprofessional, he could barely bring himself to care.
“And you’ve no clue who those freelancers were?” Caitlin’s question brought Michael back to the moment.
“I was hoping you might know. Did anyone come looking for me in the hospital?”
“Not when I was there.” She nodded toward Jade. “Aside from her. She doesn’t know either, I gather?”
“So she says. Marc didn’t hire her, and he was my first guess. I thought maybe you or Felix might have—”
“Not I. Felix?” She sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t be sure.”
Even if their phone conversation hadn’t given Michael the inkling that something was wrong, the set of Caitlin’s jaw would have been more than enough. With everything happening to him, he’d nearly forgotten Felix’s memory issues. “What is it?”
The music slipped into a slower tempo, heavy with strings above electronic flourishes. Caitlin leaned closer.
“A great many little things, which may or may not add up.” She paused as if deciding where to start. “Horizon couldn’t fix the implant. Remove it, they said, and Felix would likely improve, perhaps even regaining his own memories that he’d started to forget. But Felix didn’t want to lose what the implant gave him. We argued about it, but finally went to Ondrea.
“She was a mite hard to find at first. Marquand had fired her, but another company scooped her up. We didn’t even know if she’d be able to do anything, but Felix wanted— Well. We found her. She managed to fix the trouble; no further memory loss. He even regained a bit, and he got to keep the donor’s memories in the implant.”
“But?”
“But I’ve noticed things about Felix recently: Going out in the wee hours. Up late working on things he won’t speak of. A sense that something is just ‘off,’ for lack of a better word. He doesn’t have to tell me everything, of course, but in the past, if he was working on something confidential, he at least told me it was confidential. The few times I asked about this, he outright denied doing anything. He even claimed he didn’t remember having gone anywhere.”
“You think it’s more memory loss?”
“I did at first. We went to Horizon again, but they didn’t find anything wrong. At Felix’s suggestion, we put a tracker on him in case he was going out and forgetting. It didn’t show any activity, but something still didn’t feel right. I considered having him followed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I told myself I was being paranoid. Then a little while ago, one of the Scry—I assume you remember them?”
“The group you’re with,” Michael said. “People who find things out, sell information?”
“Aye, like Felix does but with more people. One mentioned having seen Felix go with another bloke to a rather shady mincemeat on the edge of The Dirge.”
Michael recognized the term: street doctors who removed bullets, installed unlicensed cybernetics, and dispensed drugs. Mincemeats specialized in not asking questions more than they did sterile conditions or anesthetic. Some just called them cutters. “I thought all mincemeats were shady.”
“Some more than others. This one—he goes by ‘Easy Jack’—he has a beastly reputation. The Felix we know would never work with him.”
“So you think he’s doing something to Felix?”
“I don’t know about that. But Michael, the bloke he brought in to Jack’s? He never came back out, and I’m told he looked healthy going in.”
“I can’t believe— Are you sure? Maybe he left by another exit, or just stayed in there longer and came out later?”
“The Scry did some checking. Jack’s place does have a hidden exit, but only Jack uses that. This bloke? He went missing. That’s all they know for certain.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean that Felix—”
“I asked him if he’d ever gone to Easy Jack, referred people to him, anything. He looked me straight in the eye and said he hadn’t, but I saw him go back there today with my own eyes.” Caitlin reached across the narrow table and grabbed Michael’s forearm in a way that had Jade starting forward a step before she stopped. “Michael, I know you’ve not been awake long, but is this anything to do with whatever you and Marc are involved in? I think Felix would have told me if that were the case, but it’s still the kindest explanation I can think of.”
“I can’t see how it could. For one thing, Felix isn’t even part—” Wait. Something had happened with the AoA. Was Felix drafted back into their ranks to help because of the crisis?
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed and locked onto his. “You’re thinking something.”
Should he tell her? “The group I work with, something’s happened to it. I don’t know what. That’s one reason I was looking for Felix myself, on the long shot he’d have some answers. But I don’t get why that would get him involved in anything with this Jack. Or make him flat out lie to you. Unless he was protecting you from something?”
“I think he would tell me if he were, even if only to say he couldn’t say more.”
“Maybe he’s afraid?”
“Does that really sound like Felix to you, Michael?”
It didn’t. If Felix were afraid, he wouldn’t hide his fear from people he trusted. “If it is related to the—er, my group, he’ll tell me if I ask him. I need to talk to him anyway. If it’s not . . . Well, did you try to have Ondrea check him out instead?”
“I’m not daft. But it’s been weeks and I’ve had no luck finding her. The best I managed was reaching Gideon. He said she had to leave town for work and won’t be reachable for a while. He’s not sure how long.”
“I don’t think you said who hired her?”
“I—” Caitlin blinked and then tugged out her phone, its screen flashing. “Moment, Michael, sorry. I’m expecting to hear from . . . ”
Michael waited as she tapped the screen and read. He caught a whispered curse, and she caught his expectant look as she wrote a response to the text.
“One of my mates, following Felix right now.” She slipped the phone back into a pocket. “He took a train to Gibson but she’s lost track of him.”
“What’s in Gibson?”
Caitlin pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows with an air of frustrated uncertainty.
“I could try—”
“If you call he won’t answer. Or I expect so.”
“Worth a shot.”
“Aye.”
He unzipped the bag and leaned close to the A.I.’s platform. “Holes? Ca
ll Felix Hiatt. Er, please. If he’s not there, can you leave a message for him to call me?”
“Affirmative.”
“He doesn’t answer when he’s away like this, but there is something else we might try. There may be some clues on his laptop. I feel like a sod for suggesting it, but that’s what I’d been trying to reach Marc about. But if Marc’s still away . . . ” Caitlin glanced at Holes with appraisal.
The mention of Marc’s name rekindled Michael’s worry that something might have happened to him, too. He set it aside for the moment and tried to decide what to say to Caitlin’s suggestion.
“Any luck, Holes? Reaching Felix?” Maybe if he could talk to Felix he wouldn’t have to worry about it.
“Nope,” came the answer.
Caitlin arched an eyebrow again. “Nope?”
“Yeah, it’s— He does that. I guess.”
“Felix likely left his laptop at his place. At any rate, he didn’t bring it with him today.” She sighed and bit her lip as a scowl formed that seemed to be turned toward herself. “If we go now . . . ”
Michael considered it. If something was wrong with Felix, or if he was in trouble, wouldn’t he want them to help him? Wouldn’t Felix do the same for them if the situation were reversed?
He closed up the pack and slung it. “I’ll keep trying to reach him, but let’s head to his place just in case.”
“Aye. I’ll try him a few times myself on the way.” Caitlin stood, and Michael followed suit. Jade extracted herself from the ivy.
“Felix gave me his word he wasn’t involved in anything, Michael. Even in something he couldn’t tell me about.”
Michael hesitated. “His word? He put it that way?”
Caitlin’s gaze shone steady through a storm of concern. “Aye. I gather I don’t need to tell you what that means.”
Felix’s word was his bond. Michael had never known him to break it, nor, to Michael’s knowledge, had anyone else who knew him.
He swallowed. “We’d better get going.”
IX
HE SET THE CANISTER in the transfer bin beneath Biolab D’s window. Only six inches tall and barely as wide as his thumb was long, he’d easily concealed the canister in his jacket. Unmarked and ordinary, with a stainless steel casing and a rubber seal, it would have appeared harmless enough even in the open. It was also empty, for the moment.
A Dragon at the Gate (The New Aeneid Cycle Book 3) Page 6
