Dirty Mirror

by R S Penney

  Sucking on his lower lip, Harry closed his eyes. He nodded once to her. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you can.”

  Chapter 5

  Tiny raindrops poured from an overcast sky, falling between the skyscrapers of Ta Arrelas, sliding across the windowpanes in thin streams on their inexorable journey to the sidewalk. People shuffled about on that sidewalk, many in raincoats with their hoods up, shielding their faces from the rain.

  Jack emerged from a subway terminal.

  Craning his neck to stare at a building, he squinted as the rain pelted his face. “As usual,” he muttered. “You come completely unprepared! Well, at least you're consistent.”

  He stood on the sidewalk in black pants and a t-shirt under a soaked denim jacket, his hair soaking wet and cold. In Denabria, it was warm and sunny! So, he had dressed for warm and sunny weather, and it never even occurred to him to check Link to find out if things were different in Ta Arrelas.

  The building he wanted had a revolving door in its glass facade, and he could see into the lobby. Of course, he couldn't sense anything inside the lobby. To Summer, that window may as well have been a slab of concrete. People milled about inside, some in the high-collared shirts of Leyrian formal attire.

  He went in.

  Stepping away from the revolving door, Jack shook his head. “Just call me Captain Disorganized,” he said, moving deeper into the lobby. “With the amazing power to come stumbling into every meeting five minutes late.”

  The lobby was huge with two lines of marble columns that stretched from floor to ceiling. On the far side of the room, a bank of elevators stood with their doors shut. From what he had heard, there was a medical clinic on the top floor.

  A hologram appeared before him: a woman in a black skirt and a matching blouse who wore her dark hair pulled back in a clip. “Good afternoon, sir,” she said, nodding to him. “May I be of assistance.”

  With a small smile, Jack bowed his head to the hologram. “I'm looking for the local Keeper office,” he said. “I have an appointment with Operative Thon Elias.”

  “Certainly,” the hologram replied. “Twelfth floor.”

  He moved across the lobby in time to see a set of double doors slide apart to reveal a small elevator car inside. Then he was riding upward. It was still a little odd, thinking of Keepers as people who worked in office buildings. And Leyrian cities had far fewer of those than Earth cities did.

  Corporations didn't exist on Leyria as they did on Earth; for one thing, the Leyrian people had abandoned the use of currency-economics centuries ago. Most people didn't have “jobs” so much as they had “projects.” A person trained in software development might join a team to create a new application, and when that task was done, maybe the team would stay together. Or maybe not.

  Some people had multiple projects on the go; Anna's mother was both a school teacher and the lead designer for the Vesala Art Centre's garden. Of course, certain jobs still required official training. Doctors still went to med-school, engineers still pursued degrees in their field, but life was a lot more flexible, and the urban planning of Leyrian cities reflected that.

  The doors slid apart to reveal a hallway with blue walls and SmartGlass windows that looked into conference rooms or small offices. Many were empty, but then Keepers seldom spent time in their offices.

  Jack stepped out of the elevator.

  He closed his eyes, ignoring the fat drop of water sliding over his forehead, then nodded to himself. “No time like the present,” he murmured. “Besides, nothing is more intimidating than the disheveled bum look.”

  Jack started up the hallway, noting the presence of a short woman in a black skirt and white blouse who leaned against the wall with her arms folded. It was the pink hair that drew his attention. She wore it in a pixie cut. Was this woman a Keeper? If so, what was she doing just standing around?

  A door on his left looked into a small office with gray walls and a rectangular desk of SmartGlass. The man who sat in the chair – turned so that Jack saw his profile – was a little shorter than average height, but very handsome in a pair of black pants and a white shirt that he wore untucked under a black jacket.

  His thin face was pale, with rosy cheeks, and his blonde hair was combed back. “I take it you're Special Agent Hunter,” he said without looking. “Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Or maybe a towel?”

  Jack crossed his arms and stood in the doorway with his head down. “No, thanks,” he said with a shrug. “I just came to conduct an interview; so, let's get this over with, and you can be on your way.”

  The other man's face twisted into a grimace, and he shook his head. “I'm afraid we'll have to postpone,” he said. “I just got a call about a case I'm working on. I was planning to leave in ten minutes.”

  “I think your case can wait.”

  Thon Elias swiveled to face Jack with his hands folded over his chest, leaning back. “Really, Special Agent Hunter?” he asked. “And who exactly gave you the authority to order me around?”

  Grinning down at the floor, Jack shut his eyes tight. “Why, Larani Tal, of course,” he said, stepping into the office. “Maybe you're not picking up on the subtext here, but my investigation? Little bigger than your investigation.”

  “All right,” Elias replied, gesturing to the wall behind Jack. “Why don't we use the conference room? I prefer to have a little more space.”

  A large table in the shape of an oval took up most of the space in a room with blue walls. Gray daylight came in through a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out upon the city. Rather than a forest of skyscrapers – simple towers of varying height – Ta Arrelas had elegant, curved buildings with fields of lush green grass and trees on their rooftops.

  Jack dropped into a chair, reclining and directing a smile up at the ceiling. “Well then,” he began. “Let's start by reviewing some basic details, shall we? How long have you been a Keeper?”

  The other man paced a slow circuit around the table, dragging his fingertips along the top of each chair. “Eleven years,” he answered. “I Bonded my symbiont on the third day Barlan, 741.”

  “Who was head of the Keepers at that time?”

  Thon Elias froze near the table's rounded tip, clasping his hands together behind his back and heaving out a deep breath. “Tiana Zadul,” he answered. “What precisely are you getting at, Agent Hunter?”

  Biting his lower lip, Jack looked down at himself. The moisture on his brow was noticeable, and it wasn't all water. “After completing your training, you were assigned to a team in Kenthera Province.”

  “Yes.”

  “A team led by Grecken Slade.”

  The other man stiffened and shot a glance over his shoulder. His eyes could have set ice on fire. “So that's what this is about,” Elias muttered. “You're thinking maybe I never stopped working for my old boss.”

  “What do you think of Slade?”

  Rich, boisterous laughter erupted from Elias, and he threw his head back like a drunken sailor at his favourite tavern. “What do I think of Slade?” he mocked. “The man had all the humor of a glacier.”

  Elias sat down gracefully.

  He leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table's surface, and resting his chin on the heels of his hands. “Slade was a prig,” he went on. “Puffed up with a pompous, self-righteous attitude, acting like some feudal lord. I'm not surprised he went insane.”

  “So, you didn't like him much.”

  “I didn't have to like him,” Elias shot back. “I was an agent; he was my supervising officer. I did what he told me to do.”

  Not the resounding declaration of revulsion Jack was looking for – he was really hoping this guy was clean – but not a firm statement of support either. The idea that you didn't have to like somebody to do as you were told had never sat well with Jack, It was true in the most technical sense, but in his experience, if you disliked someone, there was usually a damn good reason why. Whatever that reason happened to be, it probably meant t
he person in question wasn't leadership material.

  So, where did that leave him? One thing was clear: if Elias was working for Slade, he wasn't an obvious crony like Breslan. That would make this harder. “I want to ask you about one of your case files. Three years ago, you pursued a ship full of arms dealers out to the Fringe.”

  “What about it?”

  “You were out of contact for three days.” Long enough to replace his symbiont with one of those twisted Nassai that Pennfield created. It was a noteworthy lapse. There were even notes in Elias's file. “That's a long time to go without checking in.”

  “The shuttle's comm-system was damaged in a firefight,” Elias snapped. “I noted this in my mission report.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes as he studied the other man. “That doesn't make sense,” he said, shaking his head. “Your multi-tool had a working comm-system. Your shuttle had a SlipGate. Why didn't you check in?”

  The man's face went red, and he flinched like a dog who had been kicked. “I don't have to listen to this!” he growled, standing up. “If you're gonna come in here with these snide insinuations-”

  “Answer the question.”

  Thon Elias leaned forward with his hands pressed to the table, glaring at Jack with nostrils flaring. “You want to make accusations?” he hissed. “You better show up with a whole lot more than a smile and scathing remarks.”

  He turned on his heel and walked out.

  A groan escaped Jack as he leaned back in his chair with his arms folded and tried to plan his next move. “Wonderful,” he said, eyebrows rising. “So, now you've gone and tipped your hand with nothing to show for it.”

  No sooner did he finish talking than the tiny woman with pink hair came striding into the conference room, marching past the table to stand at the window with her back turned. “Not bad,” she said. “But not great.”

  Jack blinked a few times, then gave his head a shake. “And who might you be?” he asked, getting out of his chair. “No, wait, don't tell me. Larani sent you along to keep an eye on me.”

  She turned slowly, leaning against the glass.

  The woman was actually quite fetching in that tight skirt and untucked blouse, but it was her smile that really got his attention. “How remarkably perceptive of you, Agent Hunter,” she said. “But no, I'm not here to keep an eye on you.”

  She flowed around the end of the table with impeccable grace, then sat down on it with one leg crossed over the other. This close, he could sense that she had a symbiont. “Special Agent Cassiara Seyrus at your service,” she went on. “You can call me Cassi.”

  “Well, if you're not here to keep an eye on me…”

  She looked up at him, and he noticed that her eyes were a striking shade of purple, almost a perfect complement for her hair. “Haven't you figured it out yet?” she asked, arching a pink eyebrow. “I'm your new partner.”

  Jack scrunched up his face like a man forced to endure the stench of garbage, then tossed his head about. “Partner,” he mumbled. “So…what? Larani just decided to assign another Keeper to this project.”

  “Partner,” she said. “Get used to saying it.”

  “I've never even met you!”

  Musical laughter was her first response, and then she threw her head back to direct a bright, vibrant smile at the ceiling. “Well, isn't this the perfect opportunity to do so? I'm even willing to help you hone your interview technique.”

  Jack fell back into his chair.

  He shut his eyes, then pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead, fingers seizing clumps of his own hair. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he whispered, turning away from her. “Did you, by chance, read my file?”

  “You're Jack Hunter,” she answered. “The first person from your world to receive a symbiont. I've read your personnel file, your mission reports, the piece on you in Focus Magazine. You might say I did my homework.”

  “There's a piece on me in Focus Magazine?”

  “Is it really so surprising?” she shot back. “On your world, Keepers are often the subject of headline news. Why should it be any different here?”

  When he turned back to her, she was just sitting there, smiling at him in a way that was both reassuring and unnerving. “Now,” she said. “Why don't we get an early dinner, and you can tell me about the next phase in your brilliant plan?”

  A sleek robot of red plastic that glistened under the ceiling lights leaned over their table to fill Jack's cup with coffee. It stood up a moment later, fixed two glowing eyes on Jack and waited for a response.

  Looking up to meet the thing's gaze, Jack smiled to show his approval. “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding. “That'll be all for now.”

  The robot turned to go.

  On the other side of the booth, Cassi sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching him with those gorgeous violet eyes. Damn it, but they were distracting. It didn't help that she was short and cute and just similar enough to Anna in appearance that his mind kept wandering throughout the conversation. “So, what brought you to Elias?” she asked with genuine curiosity in her voice.

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut, then touched two fingers to his forehead. “The guy did work for Slade,” he muttered. “And if you were listening, you know that he was strangely out of contact for several days a few years ago.”

  This place was probably about the closest thing that Leyria had to a 50's diner. The floor tiles were a black and white checkerboard pattern; the walls were a bright turquoise with bars of red neon lights, and the robots scuttling back and forth to keep an eye on the customers made him feel like he was in an episode of the Jetsons.

  Speaking of customers, there were only two others besides Cassi and himself: an older man and his husband sharing a quiet meal a few tables down. Jack wasn't really all that worried about being overheard.

  Cassi folded her arms and leaned forward so that he could only see a mop of hair. “That does look suspicious,” she said, shaking her head. “But I think we both know that it's circumstantial.”

  “That's the thing about conspiracies.”

  She looked up at him.

  Lifting his cup to his lips, Jack closed his eyes as he took a sip. It was good coffee, but Summer immediately felt a burst of anxiety. Nassai were very picky about what their hosts put in their bodies. “Everything is circumstantial,” he said after a moment. “You've got hunches and hopes and not much else.”

  “So your next move?”

  “Interview the next person on my list.”

  “And who might that be?”

  He squinted as he studied her, chuckling under his breath. “Right now, it's you,” he said, making no effort to hide his distrust. “So, why don't you tell me why Larani would assign me a partner without telling me?”

  Her only response was a raised eyebrow, and when that failed to make him back down, she flinched and looked away. “Because she knows you're less than eager to interrogate your fellow Keepers,” Cassi answered. “She wanted to see if you would do it without needling.”

  Typical.

  Justice Keepers could shout day and night that they were the living embodiment of honesty itself, but they knew how to play the game with the best of them. Fortunately, he had learned from one very good teacher. Thank you, Jena, he whispered in the back of his mind. You have no idea how much I wish you were here.

  “Now, I'm confused,” Cassi said. “If you doubted my story, why not just call Larani and confirm it?”

  Plunking his elbow down on the table, Jack leaned his cheek against the palm of his hand. “I like to see if I can catch someone in a lie,” he said. “Maybe I was getting close to something, and you were planning to kill me.”

  “And if I had been?”

  Tilting his head back, Jack blinked a few times. “You know, I'm really not sure,” he admitted. “I figure the people out on the street would get one hell of a show. Two Keepers going at it.”

  She leaned in close with a smile that could melt butter. “If you
and I were gonna go at it,” she purred. “It wouldn't involve punches and kicks.”

  A year ago, a comment like that would have phased him, but thankfully, all those months dating Gabi had burned away any modesty he might have had left. “Tempting,” Jack said softly. “I can't tell if the prospect of you going all Catherine Tramell halfway through makes it more or less appealing.”

  If she was confused by that little piece of Earth pop-culture, she gave no indication of it. “I tell you what,” she said. “Why don't you call Larani, confirm everything I've told you, and help me plan our next step.”

  She practically crawled over the table to bring her lips to his ear. “After that,” she whispered. “We can discuss the possibility of mixing business with pleasure.”

  Oh boy…I'm in trouble.

  Chapter 6

  “I don't understand,” Keli Armana said.

  Tall, slim and gorgeous in a white dress with short sleeves, she sat in a simple gray chair with her legs crossed. Her dark face was as hard as granite, and she looked at Director Andalon as if she meant to stare through him. “You want to know if the man is lying; simply bring him to me, and I will tell you.”

  Jon Andalon stood before the window with his back turned, his knuckles whitening at those words. “It's not that simple,” he grumbled. “We have rule of law here. You can't just go around reading people's minds.”

  For the fourteenth time that day, Melissa wondered why the telepath was allowed to be part of these meetings. Part of that resentment stemmed from the pain she had caused Raynar – those memories were a part of Melissa now – but when you got right down to it, she really didn't think that Keli was a good person.

  The man in question was an efficiency manager named Miles Tarso; crime scene analysts had reported that it was his access code that allowed the arsonist to access the vertical farm. Naturally, this made Tarso a prime suspect, but the man insisted over and over that he was innocent.

  Of course, Keli wanted to read his mind.

  “Why not take the opportunity?”