Existence Oblivion

by Kai Ellory Viola

  He kicked the arm towards Elliot and it skidded down from the pile and landed at his feet. Red manicured nails, a gold bracelet, severed just above the elbow.

  “Pity,” Naire continued, “she gave good head.” He laughed, the sound completely alien. There was no humor in there, no bright life affirming amusement. It was the sound of a dog cornering a smaller, weaker animal.

  There was a noise, one that Elliot was attuned to. Even with his ears ringing, he heard it.

  “Naire, you’re not going to get out of here,” Elliot said quietly. He’d heard the ping-beep he associated with Harper, though Naire seemed oblivious.

  “They said that about me when they put me in jail. Before that, they said that when they took me from my mother. I think I will.”

  “I don’t,” Elliot said reaching into the panel as subtly as he could. He’d backed against the wall, and was reaching in carefully. There was another gun back here, a tranquilizer. It would have to do. Naire shot again, grazing Elliot’s shoulder and suddenly, his suit was on fire.

  “Ah, these are such brilliant guns. You ran through the x-ray area with me, which means, you got the tags all over you. These bullets are tagged to ignite the chemical as poisonous,” he said with a laugh. Elliot pulled off his jacket, throwing it on the floor. His skin was tight and hot on his face, the suit jacket burning up. Beth’s photo!

  There was a loud sound outside, a scream of feedback and suddenly, the gun in Naire’s hand dissolved. He blinked, looking down at the molten scrap in his hands, then screamed.

  Elliot pulled the tranquilizer gun in one neat move, and shot him, right between the eyes. There was no fletching, just a tiny, barbed delivery system. Elliot’s mind blearily filled that in though, imagining the red plumes between his eyes. He smiled.

  Naire kept coming, his hand coated in the material that the gun was made of, yelling, and Elliot shot again, this time in the centre of his mass, getting his chest. He slowed, then toppled forward, his hand reaching for Elliot.

  The feedback squeal was getting worse – Elliot knew exactly what it was, and he was at least partially shielded. Had he known that Morrigan’s kit would show up here, he’d have waited, and let Naire suffer.

  Behind the panel was a standard passcode door. He paused before typing his code in, palming the door open before hopping back and dragging Naire into the alcove with him. He closed his eyes

  …when he awoke, he was in a white, quiet room, moving fast. Harper was with him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  He escaped, finally. Music helped him process. His eDJ sets helped, but mostly he just listened at home. He knew that he had a lot to deal with - tomorrow he'd talk to Morri, and sort out what to do about Harper. The more he watched that footage, the more he was sure that he had been there, which meant his friend was now a clone. Not of the police force, but still a contractor, so under the same sanctions and under the same rules as the rest though.

  It would break Morri’s heart, he thought to himself. She loves him. As did Beth.

  The stabbing realization that flowed through him from that thought left him staggering against the wall, his burned face pressed hard into the bricks. A fit of rage span through him and he peeled another gout of wallpaper off the wall, tears spilling onto his still slightly tender skin.

  Tomorrow, he'd replace the carpet. For now, he wanted to live in a world of noise and echo and freedom.

  They were all in their accustomed seats. Drinks were piling up in front of Elliot, and he was carefully doling them out. He hadn’t touched one alcoholic one.

  "He was chanting something," Elliot finally said. Morri blinked.

  "Who was?"

  "Luka...Naire," Elliot said patiently. "When I first found him, he seemed genuinely afraid," he added. Morri nodded.

  "Colors right?" she said and he nodded. "It must have been pre-programming, to stop him from setting off the latent tracking we all have," Morri said, wondering. "Which means there was still an AI online 35 minutes after explosion," she added. Elliot nodded.

  "I know that, but I want to know about the colors," he said, impatiently. Morri grinned unrepentant.

  "Not my department," she said, throwing a wink at Harper. "Not anyone's really - we don't have Mandates in Darkness." Elliot growled and she held up her hands in mock surrender." The mandate rhyme. It means he came from somewhere other than Darkness. We piloted mandate in Soho 1, and the ninety families involved are all..." she stopped. "That's one piece of the puzzle we've never had, Elliot. If we knew where he came from..."

  He smiled sardonically. "Methinks you've finally caught up," he said with a soft smile. "If I can work out where he was, I might be able to work out where he is…"

  Morri took a large draught of her drink, looking into it after.

  "There are nineteen cities with different pilots of the Mandate, El. Everywhere from Aleph, where they use clones to track those that are able to live without or are immune to the mandate, to Zircon, on the coast..." She paused, considering.

  "You've got an idea?" Elliot finally asked and she shrugged.

  "I think he's from Aleph. It's the only place that has quite such familiarity with clones and that level of tech, and given his religious ideology, that makes the most sense. Darkness doesn’t have the religious stuff, and an aversion to clones. Zircon is ALL religion, clones are seen as abominations. Aleph was the loosest city, as I recall, and we don’t deal with them often," she said with a soft sigh. "But, I can't be sure," she added and he nodded, in understanding.

  "I'm not asking for definite," he said. Harper vanished, returning with another round.

  "Mandates," Elliot whistled softly. "We've got enough problems with clones, let alone those that are drugged into feeling whatever they're told," he said.

  "Cerys..."

  "The clone you encountered. The Mk5 I mean," Morri asked softly, and he nodded his head. "She was from Aleph. She claimed to be an Archivist," he added and Morri smiled.

  "Cerys Monroe?" He nodded. "Lady Monroe was the first architect of CORE. She wasn't so much an Archivist as the first one to come out of Aleph. The first person ever modified enough to interface directly with a mainframe," she said. "She couldn't be her clone - the woman died in the first DataFire."

  Elliot blinked. "No, I don't think she did. But I don't think she is an Mk5 reservoir either now," he added.

  "It's just another form of clone," Harper said softly, as if suddenly joining the conversation. "Whether you're tech-wed, or mandated or you've been copied. It's cloning in a way. Just depends on how much," he added. He was slurring, though, as far as Elliot knew he wasn't drunk. He blinked, shaking his head.

  "She's a ghost El. From Cyberia. Cerys Monroe..." he said with a wondering snort. "There was no tech like that found on the site of the accident,” he added.

  Elliot frowned at him, weighing up the options. He still hadn't told Morri, but he would have to. "I guess the question is, 'what are we going to do about it?'" Harper finished tilting his drink lazily into the amber afternoon light, pouring through one window.

  Morri nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

  "Beth always campaigned against Mandate," she finally said, quietly. "Perhaps we can start something...in their name?" she added. Elliot nodded slowly.

  "Loose ends. Hate ‘em," he said, swallowing his drink and leaving without another word.

  EPILOGUE

  Elliot sighed and pulled the vines back from the small stones, clearing the dust and dirt from the plates. There were two - one larger, bearing Beth's name, and a smaller one, over the area where her heart would be, for the baby that never was.

  His hands fidgeted with his ring - the wedding band he'd never taken off - and looked over the little patch he'd picked for them.

  "Lots happened over the last few days, Beth. I have to go save a girl. She's being held somewhere - and there's more corruption in the department than you'd believe. And...Harper. What can I say about Harper, other than that boy gets h
imself into scrapes you probably would believe, but...he needs my help, and as luck would have it, I can do it while saving that girl I mentioned," he stopped and then crouched down, laughing softly. "Actually, you would believe it. It's not my father's force any more, and everything went wrong. And I was too wrapped up in not mourning you to catch it all in time."

  Slow, stupid copper, he thought to himself, with a wry smile. Beth had always called him that when he'd missed something that she's picked up later, with her prosecutorial instincts.

  "As legacies go, though, you're kicking ass woman. As is our baby boy," he said, placing a hand on each stone. "I miss you,” he added more softly.

  And then, he just sat there, cross-legged in the grass for a few minutes, letting the cool air wash over his burned skin.

  The wire thin, drawn-faced Captain sat on the other side of the desk, signing warrants, signing folders. Signing, Elliot mused, my marching orders. Elliot sat down, waiting patiently for the man in front of him to stop scrawling.

  With a slight smile, he rose, reaching over the table. "My name is Harkness. Peter Harkness," he said, and offered him a hand. They shook, and Elliot wincing slightly as the firm squeeze compressing his palm, the nearly healed burn tingling. They both sat down, Elliot unbuttoning his suit and straightening his tie.

  "Mandatory leave," the captain behind the desk said finally. "While I know, and you know that the show was a cluster-fuck because of stuff going on behind the scenes, which you uncovered," he added more quietly. "I had more complaints about that event than anything we've ever taken part in. We don't want to release that Naire is on the loose again, without having a clear timeline. So, for now, meet your new job...scapegoat." he ended.

  Elliot blinked, "Sir?"

  The man finally looked up, and smiled mirthlessly at Elliot. "You know what happens when a cop screws up. Even if it was caused by corruption. Look at it this way. You pulled a thread, and it's all unraveling now." He raised his arm, and showed Elliot a bare white underarm. With his other hand he reached under the desk and pulled out a UV bar. He placed it on the desk and turned off the lights in his office. The UV light spluttered into life and he smiled - the light made it ghoulish. Elliot's eyes narrowed.

  "You know that every clone is sophisticated, and that there are no tests for it, right?" he said, waving the light above his arm. A tattoo of amazingly intricate design flashed up, another appearing on the desk as he waved. "Our new desks do this," he said, inclining his head. "If you log in, the smart dye creates a tracking void, and it changes every time. Clones can't do it...for now. And of course," he said, switching the lights back on, and reaching into his desk, "there is always the pinprick test. And again, choose the arm they just did that UV light trick on," he added.

  "OK," Elliot said. "Why are you telling me this?"

  The man smiled mirthlessly again. "You were sent into that job by clones, we think. We being people who helped to uncover Captain Roth's cloning." Elliot's breath stilled in his throat. "And we being the people that fought to get me appointed here after Cassidy Marques was shot."

  "What?" Elliot asked.

  "Cassidy Marques was shot, four weeks ago. We found her body in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of R district,” Elliot’s mouth slid open, jaw working as nothing came out.

  "That's not....that's not possible..."

  Across the desk, the captain laughed mirthlessly. "You're telling me..." Elliot opened his mouth but suddenly, the guy looked up, and held up his hand and continued, "it's not common knowledge detective. What makes ALL the difference is whether she was a clone, and was kept until they got you to do what they wanted - UCPS and that stupid program." By now, he'd picked up his pen and was casually signing documents again. The old fashioned way, with a proper pen.

  "Uh huh," Elliot interjected, "That was Cass giving me the orders. It wasn't a clone,"

  "Says the man who was exposed to an Mk5. Was jacked INTO a MK5. Who uses what is considered to be a non-sentient Mk3, in his own house."

  Elliot's mouth went dry. "My tech is my own, and you have no right to..." Another raised hand and a softer smile.

  "We know about it, but you're also right. That's tech that shouldn't be banned. Not the way you use it anyway," he said mildly. "And you're serving your purpose," he added. Skin crawling, Elliot reached up and wiped his mouth, rubbing a hand over day old stubble.

  "Pardon?" he said, stomach sinking.

  "The fact of the matter is that your equipment has the unique ability to collect data, and it only dumps into CORETEX when you jack in. Your tech," he said, waving at him, "has reconfigured itself to do that." Elliot's horrified gaze met the Captain's and he smiled, "We're not using them to track the raves, Elliot. Don't worry about that. What we are doing is working out what's going on and where and keeping track of...other stuff. Like mandates,” he said. "Seems Naire is trying to introduce more of them to Darkness, and the only places they can really meet in public without observation - they believe - is in the back of warehouses. On the Underground, at the raves, among other places. You might not consciously realize it but..." He shook his head. "That's for another time. Back to the point at hand however," he said, looking up. Elliot noticed his eyes were almost white - the irises a pale, washed out grey. Elliot's mouth went dry. "My tech is my own, and you have no right to..." Another raised hand and a softer smile.

  "We know about it, but you're also right. That's tech that shouldn't be banned. Not the way you use it anyway," he said mildly. "And you're serving your purpose," he added. Skin crawling, Elliot reached up and wiped his mouth, rubbing a hand over day old stubble.

  "You're going to be our thief-catcher," he said, with a more genuine smile. "We think the department has been badly infiltrated, and you're our bloodhound."

  "And if I say no?"

  "We'll remove you, pending investigation. Everything will come out. Even Harper."

  The tingle spread across Elliot's face, and with it, a quiet certainty that he was facing off against someone or something he shouldn't be. There was a pause, filled only with the scrapes and scratches of real writing as the man finished and signed some more paperwork. He periodically looked at Elliot, paused for a few seconds, and then went back to the document.

  "I won't...I won't betray my friends," he told him. The man inclined his head.

  "That is fair enough. Quite honestly, we've got bigger fish to fry. Naire isn't the only problem out there, but he's the thread that we need to start with. Pull it, and we hope things will continue to unravel. But to pull him and remove him from the equation, we've got to find out who's on his side in here first. Religious indoctrination aside, Naire's morals seem to carry through his followers and I can't...we as a department can't afford to work with people so..." Elliot nodded and the Captain stood.

  "OK," Elliot said quietly. "And to do that...?"

  "We need to place you on administrative leave, and you can start hunting."

  Elliot held his hands up. "I want to go after Naire. And I know where he is. It's not quite outside jurisdiction, but Captain...I want to get him and bring him back,"

  "No," the man said, still signing papers, without missing a beat, "you're going after him, and when you find him, you'll kill him."

  END OF BOOK 1

  Book 2 of the Deadly series.

  PARADISE

  Elliot looked over the rolling green expanses of trees. His eyes took in everything - the rolling orgasm of life laid out before him in undulating waves, and off to one edge, in the lee of the mountain, a small patch. From this angle, he almost didn't see it.

  "Jack," he said, leaning over to nudge him. Jack snorted in his sleep.

  "Jack," Elliot said patiently, shaking him slightly harder.

  Jack surfaced from the dream with a long, drawn out snort.

  "Wssat?" he said. Elliot rolled his eyes.

  "The commune. I can see it from here. We're nearly there."

  Jack blinked once, owlishly, then looked at Elliot, the clarit
y in his eyes rapidly replacing sleep.

  "Where?"

  "Over there."

  He paused and looked over with a considering, almost sad, sigh.

  "I was kinda hoping..."

  "I know," Elliot said.

  "I'm not sure this is going to work..." he said, "I mean, as plans go, if you stagger into Naire's base and..."

  "He invited me. I'd be rude not to arrive there, wouldn't I? And I think he wouldn't just flat out kill me, not in front of his true believers," he said.

  "What do you need me for again?"

  Elliot snorted, "Cannon fodder," then looked over, "we're both 'disgraced policemen'. You, because of the whole injury thing," he said, "and me because...well...because," he said. Jack smiled softly. "And this is a commune that needs to be investigated because of a lead from CORETEX on a PI case, right?"

  Jack nodded, "So what we're doing is following up. Even though I planted the lead."

  "You think there are clones out there," Jack said. Elliot nodded. "And you're just going to walk into a situation where he can clone you."

  "No." Elliot said. "He can't. I have a random string in my DNA now - one which syncs with CORE on a random trawl. It's directly tied to my VR equipment, and is a very old virus. One they don't scan for, but went into CORE because some of the people programming it, had it." he said, patiently. Harper's eyes widened. "Which means, I'm the opposite to cloneable."

  "They could crack the code."

  "Unlikely - it's fragmented" Elliot said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal an ugly looking cannula, and a green liquid flowing in. "Should be done by the time we get to where we're going..."