Kirsten stared at that line for a moment before leaning back from the holo-panel and rubbing her eyes.
“That bad?” asked Dorian.
She covered her eyes. “You read it.”
A chilly presence manifested on her left. After a moment, Dorian whistled.
“The investigators think he didn’t consider the women personally significant… Like, he didn’t care who they were, he only needed a means to re-victimize himself over and over again.” She shivered. “Why didn’t the guy just go into some twisted VR sim? All the really sick bastards do that now. They can get away with anything in VR and not be shot for it. Did that not exist back then?”
Dorian muttered something in Arabic that sounded like curse words. “It did. I can’t say for sure since I wasn’t around then, but from what I remember hearing, what we think of as the GlobeNet now was quite a bit more obvious as being in a video game with the M2 port. Pixilation, not-quite-right looking people, no sense of smell, that sort of thing. With the M3s these days, it’s quite easy for a person to lose track of if they’re in the real world or the virtual.”
“So you’re saying this guy just wanted more realism? I don’t buy it. There had to be some component here of taking power over people he thought of as weak. Rape is more about power than an act of sex.”
“Yes… only in this case, I think Walker was looking for power over himself. Maybe he somehow internalized blame for what happened to him as a child and thought he deserved more. Maybe he’d been so broken he wound up liking it?”
“Ugh.” Kirsten rubbed her temples. “I didn’t sign up to deal with anything this twisted.”
Dorian smiled. “You didn’t ‘sign up’ for any of it. They kind of just handed you an E-90 and sent you out there.”
“Yeah… so, this file is helpful, but not as helpful as I thought. I couldn’t find anything about his former residences, associates, or family beyond a younger brother who migrated off Earth in 2309. As far as I can tell, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but his relationship to Walker caused him to become a target for angry citizens.” She looked up at Dorian. “I really doubt this ghost is zooming off into space to sleep on another planet. No way his brother is even still alive at this point. He’d be a little over a hundred years old.”
“Yeah. Fair bet he’s gone.”
“It’s so weird this guy tried to avoid injuring his victims and even sent them straight to the police afterward.” She tapped a finger on her desk, thinking.
Dorian shifted his jaw side to side in thought. “Perhaps death made him less nice. Leaving Mia Sanchez tied to a bed in a grey zone motel wasn’t exactly healthy… She’s damn lucky she had an implanted comm and didn’t need her hands to call for help.”
A momentary flash of lying naked on Konstantin’s bed came and went. She remembered the way she’d wanted him at the time, and it nauseated her. Those thoughts and desires hadn’t been hers at all. They’d come from the minor abyssal spirit in the bracelet. She’d been every bit as helpless as Mia Sanchez. If not for his NetMini ringing at that exact moment…
“What’s wrong?” asked Dorian in a gentle tone.
“Just having bad thoughts.”
“Him again?”
“Yeah.”
Dorian leaned on her desk—or at least appeared to. “The man only did that because he believed it was the best way to control you. He had no real interest in you sexually, and certainly didn’t want a relationship.”
“I know… I know.” She grabbed her cup and drained the last of the coffee in it.
“Lieutenant Wren?” asked a childish voice from the right.
Kirsten lowered the cup away from her eyes, revealing the overly serious face of a familiar eleven-year-old girl wearing Division 0 blacks—without the utility belt or laser pistol. Cadet Samantha Peña saluted her as soon as they made eye contact.
The sight of at least one psionic kid whose parents loved them brightened Kirsten’s mood. She returned the salute. “Cadet?”
“Lieutenant, there’s a woman here who claims a ghost attacked her. She wants to talk to someone. They sent me up here to get you.”
Crap. Please be something stupid like Theodore. “All right.” Kirsten locked her desk terminal.
Cadet Peña raised her left forearm and accessed a holographic screen.
“Aww. She’s adorable,” said Dorian. “Like a tiny version of you, only with actual color in her skin.”
Since the girl looked down at her armband, Kirsten picked her eye with her middle finger.
Dorian snickered.
“Interview room C-8,” said Cadet Peña, reading from her screen. She lowered her left arm and smiled.
“Thank you, Samantha.”
The girl snapped to attention and nodded, then hurried off.
Kirsten sighed.
“She’s into it,” said Dorian. “The cadets that young aren’t forced to salute anyone… well, some hard-ons get bent out of shape if they don’t, but I can only think of two, and they’re both majors and up.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. I’ve been spending too much time around your cynicism. And I never did the cadet thing. At her age, I was sleeping in a tiny chamber below the city with a dozen ghosts for ‘parents’.”
“Surprised none of them told you to go to the surface.”
“Wish they would have.” Kirsten walked out to the hall, heading for the elevator. “But, they didn’t know anything outside the world down there. Most of them died long before West City existed. Some of them did try to convince me to go to settlements, but I was too afraid of adults.”
“Speaking of… how’s your father doing? Haven’t seen him in a while.” Dorian stepped into the elevator next to her.
“He’s okay. Comes around now and then to check up on me. He’s happy I’m with Sam.”
“Are you happy you’re with Sam?”
Kirsten grinned, daydreaming of snuggling with him on the couch. “Yeah.”
A ping preceded the doors opening. Kirsten stepped out on the third floor and headed past a security checkpoint toward the interview area.
They’d put the woman in one of the ‘nice’ rooms, as opposed to suspect interrogation areas. Rather than a steel table with points to secure binders, Kirsten stepped into a pleasant space decorated in neutral colors with comfortable but not terribly expensive cushioned chairs. As soon as she saw the shivering red-haired woman crying into a wad of tissue, her heart sank.
At the click of Kirsten nudging the door closed, the woman looked up. “You’re the ghost expert?”
“As much of one as we’ve got, yes.” She lowered herself to sit catty-corner to the woman. “I’m Lieutenant Kirsten Wren, but please just call me Kirsten.”
“Sienna West.” She looked down at her lap. “They assured me you won’t think I’m mental.”
“If you’re going to tell me that you believe a ghost assaulted you, I won’t.”
Dorian smiled. “She’ll only think you’re mental if you claim the Zombie Ballerinas make decent music.”
Sienna didn’t react to him, though Kirsten shot him a ‘not now’ side eye.
“Can I infer by your emotional state that you were the victim of a serious assault?”
“Yes.” Sienna fidgeted at the tissue. “Sorry. I haven’t slept.”
Kirsten used the terminal on the table and opened a blank file. If, as she suspected, this woman met Malden Walker, she’d attach it to the inquest later. Otherwise, she’d save it as a new one. “Take your time and tell me as much as you feel comfortable with.”
“All right. You’re really not going to think I’m crazy?”
“Not at all. I’ve been seeing and speaking with ghosts since I was a child. The crazy ones are people who see evidence staring them in the face and ignore it because it conflicts with the cozy little world they like to believe they’re in.”
“Heh.” Sienna managed a weak smile. “I took the maglev home from work. It’s not all that unusual for me to
feel stared at or followed, but last night, that feeling stayed with me after I got off the tram and walked from the platform to my building. I didn’t see anyone obviously tailing me, so I brushed it off as needing a vacation.”
Kirsten nodded.
“It felt like someone was next to me in the elevator and went with me right into my bedroom. When I changed out of my work clothes, it felt like a man grabbed me from behind and shoved me down on my Comforgel pad.” She cringed and lost a moment crying into the tissue. Over the next few minutes, she described being held down and pawed by an invisible man. “I thought for sure I had some creepy son of a bitch with CamNano who turned himself invisible. I mean, I saw his handprints on my skin. I sliced around but… nothing.”
“Sliced around?” asked Kirsten.
“I’ve got self-defense blades in my right hand.”
“Ahh. Okay.” Kirsten noted ‘cybernetic claws’ in the report.
“I tried to get up, but couldn’t. One hand on my shoulder felt like it weighed as much as a damn PubTran bus. Then it got weird.”
Dorian scratched at his eyebrow. “Got weird? Sounds already rather strange… at least for a normal person.”
“What happened?” asked Kirsten.
“A cold breeze fell on me and my whole body went stiff. I couldn’t move at all for a few minutes, just remember laying there bent over the Comforgel, with this dreadful fear that I was helpless to go anywhere, waiting for someone terrifying who would show up any minute and…” She choked up.
Kirsten squirmed. Glimpse into Malden’s early life? That had to come from him. “I think I know what you’re going to say, you don’t have to.”
“Thanks. Yeah. Nothing happened. After a few minutes, I got up, but it wasn’t me. Something else was in control. My arms moved on their own. It made me take my bra off, and I just walked out of my apartment naked.” Sienna’s face turned crimson. “Those stupid damn cat-mod people…”
“You were attacked by Neko-chans?” asked Kirsten with a head tilt.
“No… I mean… they’re always running around naked all the time, so people don’t even think it’s weird anymore. I must’ve passed hundreds of people and no one even asked me if I was okay.” She scowled. “Plenty took pictures, though. I was screaming in my head to stop, to get out, leave me alone, go away, but whatever had me didn’t.”
Kirsten nodded.
“It made me walk for over an hour into a shitty area…”
Somehow, Kirsten kept a straight face while the woman described being forced to roam around until a pack of fringers decided to attack her. Two held her down for a third man, while four others watched. After the first one finished, the others got into an argument about who would go next. Their shouting attracted the attention of more fringers who surprisingly ran in to help her. As the fight started, the ghost let go of its control. She took advantage of the argument, slashed the hell out of the men holding her down, and ran.
Three of the guys who ran in to help found her curled up inside a plastiboard box, hiding a block or two away, and helped her get to a PubTran car.
“Not all fringers are bad,” said Dorian.
“Most aren’t,” muttered Kirsten. “Malden seems to have a knack for finding the special ones.”
“Look.” Sienna lifted her head, making eye contact. “I know there’s almost no chance in hell the police are going to raid a grey zone looking for a pack of filthy men I can’t really even give a good description of. I blame that… entity more than those guys.” She squirmed in her seat. “I mean, if you can find the bastards who raped me, please do… but I know how cops are.”
“It’s not a lack of concern, Miss West.” Kirsten linked her notes to the inquest for Malden Walker. “Raiding a grey zone is a reasonably involved undertaking that requires planning. We would absolutely do it if we had enough information to identify a suspect in an assault like this. Are you certain you can’t describe the men who attacked you?”
“My head was foggy from whatever that spirit did to me. All of them looked the same. Tattered clothes, wild beards, dark faces with eyes that seemed like they glowed yellow. Everything smelled like piss and stale cheese. I’m sure it made me see nightmares instead of reality. Those three men who found me hiding didn’t look at all like that. One even gave me his coat. It stank like a public toilet, but it beat nothing.”
“Do you remember what sector the spirit brought you to?”
“No. The walk felt like it took an hour, but it had to be longer. I didn’t get home until nearly four in the morning. The normal police already interviewed me and did all their tests. If the man’s DNA is in the system, they’ll know who he is. But, fringers aren’t usually in the system. They thought I was crazy when I told them I was possessed.” She frowned. “They tested me for drugs when they gave me the shots to kill any diseases the bastard might’ve given me.”
Kirsten tapped a finger on the table, thinking. “We could run the PubTran logs to see where that ride originated.”
“The guys who helped me used their ’mini for it. It’s not under my PID.”
“Oh.”
Sienna dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve been up all night doing research. You’re the one who did something on the Moon, right? Destroyed some kind of big ghost? I know it all sounds like conspiracy stuff and no one’s officially saying anything happened, but there are a lot of discussions about it.”
“Well…” Kirsten bit her lip, unsure how much of what happened she could divulge to a civilian. Not that she thought it mattered, but she didn’t want Captain Eze to get chewed out for her saying too much. “Yes. There was a supernatural entity that I confronted on the Moon. It’s destroyed now.”
Sienna’s expression hardened. “I want you to destroy the one that did this to me.”
“She sounds like Senator Winchester,” said Dorian. “Only, I think her request is a lot more reasonable.”
“It’s quite possible it will end that way once I find him.” Kirsten eyed the text on the screen in front of her. “But I have to find him first.” This one’s going to be a nightmare to track down.
“I understand.” Sienna fidgeted at her coat. “Thank you for believing me.”
“Of course.”
She looked up. “Have there been many other victims?”
“I’ve become aware of two others.”
“Only two?” Sienna blinked. “Not that I want him to attack more people, but… why me?”
“Do you have an M3 port or an artificial eye?” asked Kirsten.
“Who doesn’t have an M3?” Sienna shrugged. “Eyes, no. They’re still mine.”
Dorian walked around to look at the woman from the other side. “As a ghost, I don’t think he’d need the M3 anymore to satisfy his particular desires. But, he may still be targeting women who have them as it’s deeply ingrained in his MO.”
“Where do you work?” Kirsten hovered her hands over the keyboard.
“You don’t have a port, do you?” Sienna chuckled. “You’re actually typing.”
“Many psionics skip cybernetic implants. I hear people say they mess with our ‘aura’ or whatever, but personally, the idea of putting metal under my skin just creeps me out.”
Sienna nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I didn’t really like it, but I got the port just because it’s so damn convenient. After an incident in university, I added the blades. I’m employed by Peyton & Rausch as a stock trader.”
“Impressive for twenty-five.”
“Junior stock trader.” Sienna lapsed into trembling. “Fuck. I don’t know how to handle this. Bad enough I’m constantly afraid living guys are going to grab me. How am I supposed to protect myself from a ghost? I’m not even safe in my own home.”
Before Kirsten could think of anything to say, the woman broke down sobbing. She took Sienna’s hand and tried her best to be reassuring, using some of the same phrases Dr. Loring often said to her. Only, the psychologist had been trying to convince Kirsten the abuse she suff
ered at her mother’s hands hadn’t been her fault. She still hadn’t told the doctor about the man who gave her food.
Sienna continued freaking out over the idea that this ghost could come back and victimize her again whenever it wanted to and neither she, nor the police, could do a damn thing about it. She sobbed rapid-fire questions about how to protect herself without waiting for any sort of answer for a little while, then fell silent.
“Miss West, this is an extremely rare situation. This ghost is one of a kind in the entire database of our awareness of such things. I know it probably doesn’t sound very believable after what just happened to you, but the chances that you will ever again be attacked in that manner by a ghost are pretty much nil.”
“What if he comes back?” Sienna blew her nose, still unable to stop her hands from shaking.
“From what I know of this spirit, he didn’t target his victims with any sense of specificity to who they were. He chose women with certain attributes, about as impersonal as a crime of this nature can get.”
“What do you mean by ‘certain attributes?’”
“Younger twenties, NIU, interface port… I think he’s extremely disturbed mentally.” Kirsten cringed.
“Oh, just a little,” said Dorian.
“So, there’s nothing I can do to protect myself?” Sienna fished a new tissue out of her coat pocket and wiped at her eyes.
“Barring your being an astral sensitive, nothing I’m confident enough in even mentioning. The archives contain a few mentions of what I can only describe as ‘magic’ that supposedly can affect spirits. I’ve seen ghosts all my life and even I don’t really believe that stuff works.”
Sienna abruptly laughed. “If ghosts are real, wouldn’t magic be, too?”
“It’s more likely that ‘magic’ was merely people with psionic abilities before we understood what psionic abilities are.”
Harbinger Page 20
