Inquisitor

by Mitchell Hogan

  As she picked one up, a panel opened in the back of Charlotte’s box. The opening revealed two variable sockets, designed to adapt to different makes and models of cables. Angel shrugged and plugged the cable in, then did the same with the second.

  “Is that it?”

  Charlotte remained silent, and Angel shrugged again. She was still fuzzy and could have done with another stimulant drink. She left the box and returned to the mess, ordering another coffee and taking it back to the bridge.

  She slumped into her seat. Five minutes until jump. She couldn’t tell if any of the ships in the Persephone system were following, but it looked unlikely. Anyway, in a few minutes it would be moot. Jumps were untraceable.

  Darkness enveloped her as the lights on the bridge went out. Even the illuminated controls were dark. Before Angel could react, the lights came on, dim at first, then back to normal.

  “Angel.”

  Charlotte’s voice came through the speakers. She sounded odd, as if she were confused.

  “Charlotte, are you all right?”

  “Angel, I… Oh… I can see so much! I feel like I can touch the stars.”

  “I take it you’ve access to the ship’s systems now. Don’t touch anything,” she warned, realizing she sounded like a mother with a young child.

  “It’s… amazing! The stars, the planets, they’re so far away, yet… I can see them, almost touch them…”

  Angel smiled briefly at Charlotte’s enthusiasm. The girl had been imprisoned and who knew what they’d done to her. Angel could only imagine what she was going through, but she was obviously enjoying even this taste of freedom.

  “Jump in thirty seconds,” announced the ship.

  Angel frowned. The time had gone by fast, and she didn’t usually lose track like that. In fact, she never did. She checked her internal clock and found she was right; the jump time she’d designated was in three minutes.

  “Ship, why has the jump time changed?” While she spoke, Angel scanned the ship’s systems. Only one scheduled jump had been entered: hers, but the time had been altered. It was still inside the gravity safety margins, just. Angel’s eyes narrowed. Only one other person could have changed it. “Charlotte?”

  “Jump in ten seconds.”

  “Charlotte-Rose, what’s going on?” She hated the strident note in her voice.

  No answer. Angel began to rise from her seat.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” said Charlotte. “You need to be strapped in for the jump.”

  Angel sank back down, and the seat’s restraints folded over her arms and legs. A neck support bulged out behind her head.

  “What have you done?”

  “I’m sorry, Angel. There’s more at stake than you know.”

  Charlotte wasn’t listening and was doing what she wanted. And it finally struck Angel—the override program, the one from the photo frame—it had to be for Charlotte. Harry kept it concealed so no one would know he had it. Was this why he felt he needed the insurance? He was afraid he’d need a way to combat Charlotte?

  “Charlotte,” Angel said, “don’t jump this ship, or I’ll—”

  “Jump,” announced the ship.

  Angel’s insides folded, and for a moment she felt like she was being turned inside out. The bridge swam in her vision, hazy and indistinct. Her wits dribbled out of her head; then before the last of them drained out, they were sucked back inside. The bridge stopped moving, solidifying into a terrible, hard reality.

  “Gack,” Angel choked out. A dribble of drool leaked from her mouth, and when the restraints withdrew, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

  The panel in the wall opened, and a steaming mug came out.

  “Coffee?” asked Charlotte.

  “No, I don’t want a coffee. Wait, yes, I do. But I want answers, too.” Angel checked the ship’s systems for their location and found her access had been restricted to basic functions. She lurched to her feet. “Where are we? You wouldn’t have changed the jump time without the location, or there wouldn’t have been a need to keep it secret from me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you, Angel. I just—”

  “You may as well have. I trusted you.” Angel sighed in disgust. “Just tell me where we are.”

  “The Sunhao system, approaching the capital city of Wu.”

  At the mention of Sunhao, memories came flooding back, joyous and bleak, exciting and desolate. For a moment, Angel was overwhelmed, and she staggered, vision fading. She clutched onto something, anything near to keep herself upright. Her chest squeezed tight, and she couldn’t breathe… couldn’t… She sucked in a lungful of air, then another. She’d made an effort to look for Mikal, to see if he was still alive and doing well, but her searches somehow managed to avoid Sunhao. They’d had some good times there. Great times, if she was honest with herself. It was where he’d always said he’d like to settle down one day—and the one place she hadn’t returned to. There was only one reason Charlotte could have brought them here.

  Angel leaned forward, face hard. She wasn’t going to be pushed around like this. “He’s probably made a name for himself now. High up in one of the corporations. You won’t be able to see him. Mikal always was too smart…” she trailed off.

  “But he’ll see you.”

  Angel closed her eyes. “Yes. He’ll see me. But I’m not going to speak to him.”

  “I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”

  “There are always choices.”

  “Not always.”

  “No,” Angel said firmly. “I will not speak to him. You’re not going to treat me the same way Mercurial treated you.”

  That seemed to give Charlotte pause. It was a few moments until she replied.

  “Angel… no one else can do it. I’m sorry, but this was the only way.”

  “The Inquisitors would know someone who can help; they’ve resources—”

  “Not enough, and I couldn’t risk bringing them in, exposing myself to them.”

  “You’re only a little girl.”

  There was a pause. “Yes, when all’s said and done, I am. Still young, still learning, still… growing up. But I’m more than a little girl. Though you’ve probably guessed already.”

  “I want information, then. What do you know about Mercurial? Why were Harry and his wife, and Viktor, killed?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You know something.”

  There was a pause. “All right, then,” Charlotte said. “Mercurial essentially owns Persephone. They shipped in all the original workers, built the spaceports and manufactories—all to further their research into AI. They chose somewhere out of the way and made sure they had control of the entire planet, because what they were doing was illegal.”

  “Do you have any evidence?”

  “A little. I couldn’t gain much access, so—”

  “Give it to me,” Angel said. “All of it.”

  “I… if I do, will you talk to Mikal?”

  Angel nodded. For Viktor and Harry and Jessica, it was worth it. “Yes.”

  “Then I agree.”

  A packet squirted into Angel’s implants.

  “Good,” Charlotte said. “Then that’s settled. But Mercurial aren’t the only problem: The problem is who they’re working for, and I don’t know who that is.”

  The matter was far from settled, but Angel kept her mouth shut. If she hadn’t resisted, Charlotte wouldn’t have handed over the information. If Viktor had been killed by a Genevolve, that meant they were involved. But they were scattered, weren’t they? Centuries ago there had been terrible battles with the Genevolves, lasting decades. Whole cities and one planet had been destroyed. But eventually humanity had won, and the Genevolves were broken.

  There wasn’t much to Charlotte’s file—expense accounts from when Persephone was settled; some figures had tags pointing to other ledgers. The whole thing was an indecipherable mess to Angel. She needed time to follow the money trail, or someone with more expertise
than she had to help.

  Angel didn’t reply to Charlotte, and the rest of the time the ship spent approaching Wu, she kept to herself. Flashes of her past kept surfacing, no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Charred flesh. Muzzle flashes. Blood spatter. She ruthlessly forced down any memory of the time she’d spent on the frontier so many years ago.

  Charlotte’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “We’re cleared to land. News of our breakout from Persephone hasn’t reached here yet. Even if it did, we should be fine; they don’t much like the corporations out here.”

  Except they liked their money. And technology.

  The planet slowly expanded in the ship’s screens until it filled most of the bridge. Angel did her best to ignore it, like you ignored a toothache.

  They descended to the planet in silence, the only sounds the hiss and hum of the ship. They landed with a thud followed by a clanking as the spaceport’s standard maintenance systems latched on. Only water and waste was covered by the mooring fee; anything else had to be paid for in advance.

  “I, uh…” Charlotte sounded uncertain. “I sent him a message that you’ll meet him somewhere out of the way. Secure. But he’s already here,” she said simply.

  Angel strode to the personnel exit and caught herself checking her appearance in the polished brightness of the walls and doors. When she did, her lips tightened, and she gave a brief shake of her head. At the exit, she waited for the doors to cycle then open, and she stepped from the stale air of the ship into the humid air of Wu, still as spicy and exotic as usual, even when treated by the spaceport’s environmental systems.

  Down the ramp and into the terminal, and there he was. It was him. He still looked young and as handsome as ever. Bloody hells, why did he have to look the same?

  He smiled brightly at her and struck her to her heart. “Angel,” he said in his husky voice, in a tone that made her think he was amused. “It’s been a while.”

  “Mikal Gedion Linz Castell, that it has. I lost your number.”

  Mikal raised an eyebrow and ran a hand over his too-short brown hair, blue eyes gazing into hers. She looked away, ashamed of the way she’d treated him back then. He deserved better from her.

  “I’m easy to find,” he said softly.

  “Some of us have to work for a living.”

  “I’ve heard you’re quite good at your job.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long way from mercenary work. Anyway, there’s something I need you to do.”

  “I knew it had to be something—”

  “Don’t start!”

  Mikal raised both hands. “I won’t.” He sighed. “What do you need?”

  “I need a box opened. Or rather, the girl trapped inside does.”

  Mikal raised both eyebrows this time.

  Angel smirked at him. “I knew that would get you. But there’s more. I don’t think she’s really inside. I think whatever she used to be has been… altered.”

  •

  They stood beside the smooth black box, now trailing two cables. Angel had checked the system news and set her implants to alert her if any reports on them or their ship, or Mercurial Logic, came in. So far, all was quiet, which raised her suspicions.

  “It’s an encrypted biometric lock,” Mikal said. “And it needs a unique passkey. I don’t do this kind of thing anymore.”

  “But you will, for me.”

  Mikal sighed and shook his head. “Yes, for you, I will.”

  “Can you open it?”

  Mikal nodded slowly. “Not now. I’ll need tools. Some I can get from work, but I keep a few more at home. I don’t like my skills getting rusty.”

  “Girls like guys with skills.”

  Mikal chuckled. “Some do. So, I’ll need to go back to my place. Would you like to come with me? You can help carry stuff back.”

  [Please hurry, Angel. We can’t stay on this planet too long.]

  Against her better judgment, Angel agreed to help. She couldn’t stand being in his presence for long after what she’d done to him, and the sooner they were gone, the better. Just standing next to him made her skin itch. She could sense how close he was… feel his warmth even through her clothes.

  They sat in silence for the whole taxi ride to Mikal’s place. Some “place”. A suite on the top floor of an apartment building in one of the better districts. All polished stone floors, tasteful decorations, and so sparkling she expected a cleaning automaton to follow her around, mopping away her footprints.

  Mikal looked sheepish and apologized for the state of his apartment, as if he thought there was something suspicious about cleanliness. No, that wasn’t right. He was embarrassed about what he’d become, and he thought she’d judge him for it. But who was she to judge? She had no right. They’d run together as mercenaries, and it had been an exciting time. They’d been young. She knew now his sedentary life had its own rewards. Not being shot at, for one.

  “My equipment’s in here. In the closet. I can’t risk anyone finding it, so…” Mikal awkwardly avoided her gaze.

  “You keep up to date, though, right?”

  “Yes. I’ve a few contacts, people still in the business. And it helps with my current role.”

  Listen to him. Role, she thought. The corporations were rubbing off on him. That was good, though, wasn’t it? He deserved to be happy.

  “So,” continued Mikal, “what do you think is in the box?”

  Angel bit her lip. “In the beginning I thought I was rescuing a girl, but all I found was that big, black monstrosity. A girl couldn’t survive inside there for long. The corporation—Mercurial Logic—must have done something to her. Maybe it’s just her brain—”

  Mikal coughed into a hand.

  “I know!” Angel protested. “Unlikely, but it could be. Or some sort of amalgam. I suspect it’s a new type of AI. But we’ll have to be careful. It could be booby-trapped.”

  Mikal barked a laugh. “You’re joki—” He stopped when he saw the expression on Angel’s face. “You’re not joking.”

  Angel shrugged. “It’s secret high-tech research. It could be anything.”

  They were in his bedroom. It was bigger than any place she’d lived in, ever. The lights were dim with a reddish cast, and she looked out a window taking up one entire wall. Nice view. A massive bed covered enough space for a troupe of dancers. Where did that thought come from?

  He passed his palm over a wall, and it hissed open, revealing racks of clothes and drawers. She noted a couple of hangers sporting a woman’s dresses. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

  Mikal knelt on the plush carpet and fiddled inside the closet. A container rolled out, filled with four shiny metallic briefcases and other, older, objects wrapped in stained cloth. She recognized them from the merc assignments they’d done together. Mikal ran a hand reverently over the cloths.

  “My old tools. I still can’t bear to get rid of them. Obsolete, though, these days.”

  Can we get on with it? she almost asked, biting her tongue before the words came out. You can be such a bitch. Instead she said, “I take it we’ll need all four briefcases? Two each?”

  Mikal stood. “Yes. We’ll take my private car back to the spaceport. I don’t want to take a taxi and risk getting caught with this equipment.”

  She stared at him standing there, looking the same as when she’d left him years ago, dropping everything to help her, no questions asked. Something crumbled inside her, and she teared up, breath catching in her throat.

  She reached out tentatively, fingers brushing the back of his hand. Their eyes met, and she felt a frisson of energy pass between them. Then, before she could stop herself, she was in his arms.

  •

  Angel stood in Mikal’s shower, letting the hot water wash over her, eyes closed, breathing in the steam. For a while, she managed to forget what a mess she was in, but when she moved to switch off the flow, it all came crashing back down.

  The water stopped, and she let the warm air of th
e dryer blow over her skin. She dropped her head and ran her fingers through her thick, dangling hair. She left it damp, not wanting to spend any more time in this apartment, and hurriedly dressed.

  She found Mikal in the kitchen, making coffee and pancakes. He always did like to do things himself. Angel rolled one up, dipped the end into a bowl of blue mush, some sort of mashed berries, and took a bite.

  “We don’t have much time,” Angel said. “Especially now.”

  Mikal, already showered and dressed, frowned at a screen to his right. An attractive news anchorwoman was talking soundlessly. Below her, breaking news text scrolled across the bottom of the screen. The picture flicked to the smoking ruins of buildings, then to a flat, featureless circle of glowing… rock?

  “There’s been an explosion on Persephone, a terrorist attack centered on Mercurial Logic. They’re calling it an act of corporate terrorism. What have you gotten yourself into?”

  The pancake turned to ash in her mouth. She chewed a couple more times and then managed to swallow. The whole of Mercurial Logic’s headquarters on Persephone was vaporized. She didn’t think they’d react like this. It wasn’t… they shouldn’t have.

  “That wasn’t me,” Angel said.

  “I know that wasn’t you. You wouldn’t… couldn’t… but they’re saying it was. According to the reports, you fired on a corporation called Mercurial Logic after fleeing the planet, on the run from murder charges, among others.”

  “Shit.” Angel’s implants connected to the local news, and she scrolled through the announcements. When the pictures began streaming in, she felt as if the floor had dropped beneath her. A crater a few kilometers across sprayed cascades of molten rock. Near its center, there were patches of white-hot, glassy lakes. Around the edge, buildings charred to blackness melted onto the rim, where they solidified like tar. Angel’s detonations wouldn’t have caused anything like this. A troubling thought occurred to her: how far would Charlotte go to cover her tracks? Mercurial was the likely option, but she couldn’t know for sure.

  “Shit, shit, shit. We’ve got to go.” She dropped the remains of her pancake onto the countertop.

  “Not until—”

  “Now. We go now. I’ll fill you in on the way, but we have to move.”