The Credulity Nexus

by Graham Storrs

  It made quite a mess. Enough that the robot let go of Rivers for a moment, giving her the chance to jump back out of reach. The machine seemed to be disoriented. From it's writhing, it might even have been in pain. Rivers kicked the robot in the belly, then turned to Rik.

  “Killer fucking robots?” she demanded angrily. “You're real fun to be around. What next?”

  Rik assumed it was a rhetorical question and sprinted for the Comanche. Rivers beat him to it and helped him aboard, while bullets pinged off the ship's armoured hull.

  Three lights appeared in the sky. From the way the smoke swirled beneath them, Rik guessed they were helicopters. The pilot began swearing energetically in Spanish, and the engines screamed into life. They lurched into the air and swung away from the approaching aircraft.

  As they rose above roof height, a drum-roll of bullets played across their armour plating. The machine gunners on the roof had found them. The pilot looked anxiously over his shoulder and veered onto a new heading, his swearing sounding more like a long, desperate prayer.

  Rik checked on Freymann, who shouted and signed that she was OK. She looked pale and tired, but Rik believed she wasn't hurt, just shaken up. He was beginning to understand that this little New Yorker was as tough as they came.

  He looked over at Rivers. The upload sat with her arms resting on her knees and her head slumped between her shoulders. There were scars along her body and arms that could only have been made by a fembot's nails.

  He nudged her. “You OK?”

  She raised her head and looked at him wearily. “I'm a cat burglar, you know. It's a skilled profession. I'm one of the best. I'm not meant to be wrestling with killer machines in the middle of fucking Mexico, risking my ass in gunfights with the police and hired thugs, getting shot at by cops and private dickheads like you.”

  “You look a bit ripped up. Will your body heal?”

  “The fuck should I know? I only just got the thing. What the hell do you care, anyway? You want to be my buddy now? Jesus! The sooner I see the back of this whole screwed up mess, the better!”

  “Hold on!” the pilot shouted, and before anybody could obey, he threw the Comanche into a tight turn that had the craft almost on its side.

  Bullets rattled off the armour again. The ’copter immediately righted itself and rolled into a long, swooping climb in the other direction. Rick tumbled sideways, unable to keep his seat. He braced himself, ready to hit the cabin wall, but Rivers' hand was there on his shoulder and the impact never happened. He climbed back into his seat and got the harness fastened, watching the upload suspiciously.

  “That was for coming back for me,” she said.

  Another breathtaking manoeuvre prevented Rik from replying. When it was over, he saw two of the pursuing helicopters through the front windows. With a cry of triumph, the pilot triggered the missile release, and four air-to-air missiles rushed off into the night, dodging and weaving, splitting into two pairs that arced apart as they followed their separate targets. The pilot pulled up and away just as the world lit up with bright orange explosions.

  The shock-waves beat at the Comanche, but it racketed on through the sky in another gut-wrenching turn.

  “Ha!” the pilot shouted. “The last one has run away home! We are safe now.” To prove the point, he made a gentle course correction and began to fly straight and level.

  Freymann leaned forward, and spoke so they could all hear her. “Cordell must have arrangements with the Federales. There'll be a nationwide search on. And he must have other resources to draw on – the Mexican Air Force, maybe. There's an FAM base south of here at Monterey, and a couple more to the north.”

  Rik was amazed. “How the hell do you know that?”

  Freymann looked at him as if he were being deliberately stupid. “I used my cogplus to run a search.”

  Rik blinked in surprise. His own defective cogplus had been giving him so much pain when he used it, he’d all but given up trying. When this is all over, he promised himself, I'm going to get this pile of junk out of my head!

  “We need to ditch the chopper,” Freymann was saying, “and find something less easy to spot.”

  “All taken care of,” Rivers said. “There's a big lake east of here with a sea plane parked and waiting for us. We'll ditch the helicopter in the water and go on by plane.”

  “You're just going to ditch a multi-million dollar helicopter gunship in a lake?” Freymann asked.

  “Sure. There's nothing out there but a few farms and a couple of villages.”

  “Never mind about that,” Rik said. “Tell me the bit where we go on by plane. Go on to where, exactly?”

  “You tell me, partner. It's your show, remember?”

  Rik hadn't actually thought about it. He'd followed a false trail, thinking he would find Maria. Now he was all out of ideas. He'd been pretty sure she would avoid all the obvious people, find someone obscure to leave a message with. Cordell's people had obviously thought the same thing, so every other obscure acquaintance he could think of might also be a trap. They had better intel on him than he thought they had, and they were being smarter than he had given them credit for.

  What's more, Cordell had told him he knew where Maria was. So they'd already found her, but how? He knew she wouldn't go near any friends or relations in case she got them killed. She would have more sense than to use her cogplus to buy anything. The only time she'd ever be forced to use it would be if the police had her, or – the idea slapped him in the face – or if she had to use her netID as a passport to leave the US!

  “South,” he said, then more confidently, “South, to Guadalajara spaceport. And make sure that fancy rocket-ship of yours is fuelled up and waiting for us there.”

  Chapter 29

  Kirsty Winters watched as Maria cleared customs and collected her bags. They had said a fond farewell just ten minutes ago, after which Kirsty had changed the colours and pattern of her smartfabric jacket, and changed her wig colour from grey to brown, all through her cogplus garment interface.

  Sticking close to Maria all the way from Florida to Heinlein had been a long, tedious assignment, and it was supposed to be over.

  “What do you mean, 'stand by'?” she said through her cogplus.

  “I mean,” a man's voice told her, “keep your eyes on the target and shut your whining.”

  “This wasn't the deal. I've finished the job. Transfer the money and don't give me any more of that ‘stand by’ crap.”

  The man made no reply, and she fumed to herself. “This is an extension to the contract,” she said. “Whatever the hell this is.”

  Across the arrivals lounge, Maria took her suitcase key and clipped it to her belt. The bag oriented itself to the key and began rolling after her as she walked towards the exit. She was clumsy and stumbling, moving along in little hops and skips, the way all Earthers were on their first trip to the Moon. Kirsty Winters moved along behind her with the easy, gliding strides of a well-travelled woman.

  She had to do something soon or Maria would be out of the spaceport and into a taxi. She needed an excuse, some kind of emergency that would require Maria's help. She cursed as she closed the gap between them. Anything she came up with would sound lame. Maria wasn't stupid. She would be bound to be suspicious.

  “Are you there?” the man asked in her head.

  “Yes. I'm going to have to make contact again.”

  “You should be prepared to take her out.”

  Kirsty stopped dead. “Do what?”

  “You may be required to eliminate the target.”

  “You want me to kill her?”

  “Perhaps. If it becomes necessary. Meanwhile, we'd like you to search her person and her belongings, and retain anything you find.”

  “You are joking, aren't you?”

  “I'm authorised to offer twice the agreed fee.”

  The old woman cursed. “It'll cost you five times the original price if you want a hit. Take it or leave it.”

&nb
sp; “I am authorised to take it.”

  She cursed again, knowing she could have asked for more.

  “I want half up front. I don't trust you any more. You'd better hurry. She's getting away.”

  In fact, Kirsty had begun following Maria again the moment the client agreed the price. She might still get to Maria in time to get in a taxi with her, spin her some yarn.

  “The money has been transferred. Don't let us down, Kirsty.”

  The voice in her head hung up, and she was alone with her thoughts. She hadn't expected a kill. She wasn't prepared. No weapon. Nothing lethal, anyway. No location picked out. No escape planned to get her off the Moon. It was a nightmare, but it could be done. The target was an easy one, trusting and naïve. She just needed to be a bit careful, that was all.

  She increased her pace, changing her jacket and her hair back as she went. As the distance between them closed, she began to notice things; other people moving with her, matching her pace; two men standing by the exit – tough, watchful men – and an absence of airport security, as if they'd been told to keep clear.

  She slowed down, let Maria pull ahead.

  In a quick burst of activity, the two men by the door stepped forward, blocking Maria's way. Another two came up behind her and boxed her in. Kirsty changed course, developing a sudden interest in an advertising display. Maria looked frightened and tried to push her way through, but they held her arms and moved quickly with her, out of the building and away. It was a slick, well-coordinated action, competent and professional.

  Kirsty drifted away from the jabbering adverts and stepped outside, pulling a small dart gun from her bag and feeding a tracker dart into the chamber. She was just in time to see the last of the kidnappers climb into a waiting vehicle. She watched it slide out of the parking bay and into a transit tube, disappearing at speed, her tracker already attached to its body.

  A man and a woman were standing where the vehicle had been, looking around intently. Kirsty saw the man's eyes pause on her, then move on. She fussed with her bag, looking for something; a confused, elderly lady, trying to cope with the complexities of a busy spaceport.

  After a while, an airport security officer approached the two. They exchanged a few words. They were brief and businesslike. Cops, Kirsty realised. Maria had been picked up by the cops. What the hell was going on here? She bitterly regretted accepting the contract on the woman now, although she really hadn't had much choice. The people she was working for were not the sort you could refuse.

  -oOo-

  “So, tell me about the mysterious Mr. Drew.”

  Maria eyed the big policeman nervously. “Why can't I see a lawyer?” she asked.

  Lieutenant Lincoln Eugene Burleigh beamed reassuringly. “You are in no need of one, I assure you, madam. I just want to ask you a few questions about your ex-husband.”

  “Am I under arrest?” She looked around at the room she was in. It was sparsely furnished, but not uncomfortable. It looked more like someone's living room than a police interview room.

  “You are a guest in my home, Ms. Dunlop.” The man made an expansive gesture that included a sofa and a couple of armchairs, a few picture frames on the walls which rotated through a small collection of Twentieth Century cowboy film posters, and a set of shelves without much on them.

  “Why?” Maria asked. She tried not to move in her chair. In the lunar gravity, it felt as if she might bounce herself right out of it at any moment.

  Burleigh smiled and put down the two cups of coffee he had fetched from the little kitchen. He settled himself into one of the armchairs. “That, if I may say so, is an excellent question. The thing is, Maria – may I call you Maria? The thing is, if I hadn't brought you here, we'd have had to go to the UNPF office for our chat. And if we'd done that, those two gentlemen from the CIA would have started asking questions.”

  Maria's general sense of alarm ratcheted itself up a notch. “Why is the CIA interested in me?”

  Burleigh shrugged. “Who knows? But probably for the same reason I'm interested in you, Maria; because of your ex-husband, the famous Rik Sylver 1 Drew.”

  Maria felt despair wash over her. The UN cops and now the CIA, too. Did they know she had the package? No-one had asked her about it. No-one had tried to search her. If only she had-

  Then the policeman's words struck her.

  “One? Sylver 1 Drew?”

  Burleigh was watching her every reaction with minute interest. “Yes, unless it's just plain Rik Sylver again. I'm afraid both his wives were killed in a gunfight several days ago.” His face suddenly hardened. “The people who shot them were also looking for your ex-husband. As were the people who shot Blake Bonomi and his wife.”

  “Blake? And Brie? They're...?”

  “Mr Bonomi is in intensive care. His wife was only slightly wounded, and is in FBI protective custody.”

  “Oh my God.” Along with her former boyfriend, that made three people dead and two wounded. What on Earth was going on?

  “I have orders to arrest Rik and hand him over to the CIA, Maria. Before I do that, I want to know what is going on and why he has become such a dangerous man to know.”

  “I–” She thought about telling him about the package. There was something reassuring about the big cop. He seemed like a good man, someone she could probably trust. Yet she daren't do anything that might upset Rik's plans, whatever they might be, even though he seemed to be in as much trouble as one man could stir up.

  “I don't know anything,” she said, instantly regretting it. Only people who knew something said they didn't know anything. She blushed, certain the big man could see right through her. “I came here to look for Rik. When I saw them kill David, I just panicked and ran. I've been running for days now.”

  “David was the man you lived with, yes? And who did you see kill him?”

  Maria shook her head. What was she saying? “I didn't see anyone. I just saw flashes at the window, like gunshots.”

  “And yet you didn't go to the police. You just took off and came here.” Maria said nothing, so Burleigh went on. “That would explain it, I suppose.”

  “Explain what?”

  “It would explain why, when I found your name as a known associate of Mr. Drew's, you were already flagged as a person of interest. You are wanted for questioning by the FBI.” He let Maria absorb that for a moment. “Do you think there's a single police agency this side of Saturn that isn't looking for you or your ex?”

  Her need to get out of there was like a physical itch. She squirmed under it. “Are you going to turn me over?”

  “Are you going to stop fooling around and start answering my questions?”

  “Look, I don't know what any of this is about. I really don't.” It wasn't quite a lie. “All I know is that Rik was on Earth. He came to see me – something he hasn't done for nearly two years. He seemed upset. The next thing I know, he's gone missing, and somebody has murdered my boyfriend.”

  “You think Rik did it?”

  “What?” The idea was so preposterous it hadn't even occurred to her. “No! Rik wouldn't hurt anybody.”

  The big policeman nodded. “Yet your neighbour says she saw someone fitting Rik’s description throw your boyfriend to the ground and nearly break his arm.”

  Maria's temper was finally kicking in. “Did the nosy cow also say that David was getting heavy with Rik, and he was only defending himself? And did she say where she was when armed men arrived at my house, broke in, killed David and then waited to kill me?”

  Burleigh smiled. “Nope. The good lady must have been taking a nap.”

  A silence fell.

  “So you're looking for Rik too?” the Lieutenant asked.

  “I wanted to find out what was going on.” It sounded feeble, so she threw in a bit of truth. “I wanted to get this sorted – whatever it is – so I could get my life back. So I could go home without anybody trying to shoot me.”

  “Well, he's not here.” His tone was regretful, b
ut his eyes were still watching every nuance of Maria's expression. Maria supposed she must have looked as surprised as she felt.

  “But he has to be here!”

  “Really? Why's that?”

  “Just... Because I need him, that's why. Someone tried to kill me. People I know are dead. I'm scared.”

  And she was, no doubt about it.

  “Why would Rik be in the company of a British spy, Maria?”

  “A what?”

  “An MI6 field agent called Fariba Freymann. They entered the US together a few days ago under false identities. A short time later, they were involved in a firefight with FBI agents at the Cedars-Sinai hospital in LA, possibly in the company of an unidentified upload and two hired guns. Three FBI agents dead, four wounded. The gunmen, by the way, are known felons with ties to the Chicago Mob. Both are now deceased. After that, Rik and the upload appear to have left the country together, present whereabouts unknown.”

  Maria's head was spinning. This was all way too much for her to handle on her own. FBI agents dead, gangsters and zombies... She felt the slight weight of the package in her pocket as if it was a house brick.

  She stood up, too quickly. Her feet left the ground, and for a moment she was off-balance and flailing. But Burleigh was there to steady her and save her from falling. She gave him a quick smile of thanks and took a deep breath. Then she reached into her pocket for the metal box.

  “I think I might know what this is all about,” she said. “At least, what's at the root of it.”

  A voice from the doorway made her jump. “You can tell me all about it later, honey.”

  “Kirsty?”

  The woman didn't seem quite as old as she had before. What had looked like fragility and infirmity now looked like a wiry slenderness. The biggest change in Maria's erstwhile travelling companion, however, was not her improved posture, nor the change of hairstyle and clothing. It was the small-calibre dart gun she held in her right hand. The one that was pointing at Lieutenant Burleigh's chest.