Asterion Noir: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 4) Page 9

  On the other side of the doors, bitterly dry air bit at her skin on its way to blowing across the bland, sandstone terrain.

  When the Guides had assigned her the task of overseeing the cleansing of selected exploratory world outposts seven years ago, she’d been honored to have them place so much trust in her. The strict confidentiality and crucial importance of the task had been impressed upon her with eloquent turns of phrase, and she’d swelled with pride at being chosen for it.

  It wasn’t until the fourth such cleansing that the realization of the true weight—the crushing darkness—of the burden they’d placed on her had cut its way through her vanity and hubris to slap her in the face then settle into a permanent cowl upon her shoulders. The next five or so cleansings had stolen a chunk of her soul each time, which the mecha had carted off along with the rest of the trash, before she’d finally deadened her metaphorical nerve endings and rendered herself numb to the process.

  When the Guides had told her this was a solemn duty, she’d assumed they were merely engaging in their usual dramaticism. But it turned out this time, they’d underplayed the matter a fair bit.

  Was a loyal servant doing necessary evil work in the service of their gods an angel or a demon?

  She pursed her lips; they were cracking beneath the onslaught of the desiccated air. The answer wouldn’t be calculated for a while yet, and by then it likely wouldn’t matter to anyone, even her.

  She believed in the wisdom of the Guides’ decisions; she agreed that the sacrifices made now to buy time and opportunity stood to ultimately result in a brighter future for the far greater number not sacrificed. Because she must believe this. She was committed now, and it wasn’t as if quitting remained an option.

  She knew firsthand the lengths to which the Guides were willing to go to in order to keep their terrifying secret. A psyche-wipe would not be her fate.

  The dynes filed out of the lab in an orderly line, their appendages laden with broken pieces of lab equipment for their first trip to the waiting mecha. Once they finished their tasks, the lab would be flattened and the exploratory encampment kit across the way packed up for reuse elsewhere.

  In a day, two at most, all traces that anyone had ever lived or worked here would be gone.

  INTERRUPT

  14

  * * *

  Nika sauntered onto The Floor with a spring in her step and the container in her hand held high. “Did anyone order masks, the perfect companion for those times when you’re where you shouldn’t be? Get in line and get your name down for a free pass across the Dominion….”

  Her voice drifted off as she realized everyone was ignoring her. Instead, those present were huddled in furtive groups, talking over one another and gesturing in agitation. Her gaze darted around the open space, observing and evaluating the unexpected scene. Then she pinged Perrin.

  What’s happened?

  Parc got arrested. Are you back?

  This second. How the hells?

  Come find us upstairs.

  She stepped forward and raised her voice. “Everybody, take a deep breath and try to calm down. I know you’re worried about Parc, but we will get to the bottom of this. I promise you.”

  In answer, she received many worried and a few angry looks, alongside sagging shoulders and faces teeming with frustration. Capture was a constant possibility for all of them, but they protected and watched out for each other in a bid to prevent it from ever happening. No surprise if they weren’t prepared to process it when the worst actually did happen. Truthfully, at first blush she wasn’t quite sure how to process it either.

  “I’m telling you, there was no operation, secret or otherwise. He was not on an assignment.”

  “Then what happened?”

  Nika closed the door to Joaquim’s room behind her and leaned against the wall beside it. “That’s a damn good question—right along with why no one pinged me when it did. How behind the curve am I here?”

  Perrin winced. “Sorry. We’ve been scrambling since we found out—which was only an hour ago. There’s nothing you could have done until we learned more, anyway.”

  “There’s always something I can do. Don’t hesitate next time. But now I’m here, so fill me in.”

  Perrin collapsed on the couch and slouched over her knees. “Parc was arrested around 0200 local for burglary and attempted theft. Justice claims he broke into the residence of some mid-level Commerce Division staffer and took a bunch of interface hardware. Patrol dynes caught him leaving the building.”

  Joaquim shook his head roughly. “It’s a load of crap.”

  Nika grimaced. “I have to agree. He’s not the type to go barging into people’s private homes. He’d view it as…amateurish. This sounds like a case of hyperactive patrol dynes stumbling upon him in the wrong place at the wrong time. Possibly followed by Parc being less than cooperative during their questioning.”

  “He does so love new gear, though….” Perrin trailed off with a sigh.

  “We can get Parc anything he needs, and he knows it. And if we can’t, he’ll devise some non-legal but ingenious way to acquire it—some way worthy of respect from his peers, just so he can brag about it later. No, this smells wrong. What’s his version of events?”

  Perrin shrugged. “Can’t say. Under new security measures put into effect last month, access to detainees is restricted to Justice officers and an official Rep.”

  “Which none of us can be, since we’re off the grid. Terrific.”

  “It doesn’t matter—he’s refused a Rep.”

  “What? Parc doesn’t know anything about the legal system, does he? Unless he managed to load a Justice-issued dictionary and procedure program before this happened, going into his hearing with no Rep will guarantee conviction.”

  Joaquim dropped a module too hard on his workbench, sending a thud reverberating through the room. “Yep. And these days, conviction isn’t a temporary bump in the road—it’s a black hole that destroys your life. Godsdamn Justice tightening the screws from every angle until there’s no escape.”

  Nika stared at the floor, thinking. Every time they interacted with the grid and the government systems wired into it, they risked exposure. Drawing attention to themselves by intervening in a Justice proceeding? Triple the usual risk.

  But if they didn’t take care of their people, what were they doing all this for?

  She straightened up. “I’ll reach out to Spencer and ask him to get me in to see Parc. Once we understand what actually happened, we can work out how best to help him get clear of it.”

  Joaquim eyed her doubtfully. “After the last time, Spencer said not to involve him unless it was a dire, retirement-level crisis situation.”

  Deep in the recesses of her mind, something twitched. She focused on it, but all she found was the blank space left by the untold tale of when she must have faced her own dire, retirement-level crisis situation. Before.

  “He said don’t involve him ‘for a while,’ which it’s been…sort of. Besides, with the way Justice has been arbitrarily increasing the severity of sentences lately, this very well may be exactly that.”

  15

  * * *

  Spencer Nimoet traversed the plaza’s open space like a secret agent eluding a hit order. His stride was purposeful and his eyes locked forward, but he scrutinized every civilian, fixture and tree for potential threats. Justice to the core.

  And yet, an ally to NOIR as well. When Nika had asked him why once, he’d muttered a vague reference to a case hitting too close to home and a belief that Justice was sliding down a steep slope toward a bottom residing well beyond their mandate. Further probing elicited no additional details, however. The man wasn’t much for sharing.

  Spencer slid in across from Nika at the eatery table with a honed efficiency of movement and energy. “Good, you’re wearing a high-grade morph. It will make this risky gambit a marginal amount safer.”

  The fact that he approved of her use of a highly illegal routine
hinted at just how much he was no longer Justice’s lackey. If they successfully navigated this crisis, she needed to make a point to cultivate the relationship. For now, she arched an eyebrow. “Scan me so quickly and thoroughly, did you?”

  “You would be appalled at how much I can see about you with a brief glance. The tools higher-level Justice officers have at our disposal are not third-rate black market knockoffs.”

  “No, I suppose they are not. Thankfully, neither are mine. What have you learned?”

  “Your friend is being held in the processing section on the fourth floor of the detention wing. As you thought, he’s refused a Rep, but thus far he’s been a model prisoner. A body scan did reveal a number of illegal augments, so two aggravating points have been added to the charges.”

  “What does this mean for him?”

  Spencer’s eyes continued to scan the vicinity for anything out of the ordinary. “Nothing good. The sentencing guidelines for Tier II and higher felonies were toughened again last month, and those aggravating points tip him over the threshold. If the sentencing Justice officer wants to, they can order retirement and reinitialization at the end of a lengthy sentence served at Zaidam.”

  She almost choked on the lemon spritzer she was sipping. “R&R for a first-offense burglary charge? That’s absurd!”

  “Lower your voice, please. I agree, but neither the Guides nor Advisor Weiss asked my opinion on the matter. Those are the rules now.”

  Inwardly she fumed, but she took care to dial down her body language, given how they sat less than a hundred meters from the Justice Center. Nope, they were merely two friends enjoying a snack on a warm summer day. “Why wasn’t the increase in penalties publicly announced? Hells, so substantive of a change arguably qualifies for a general referendum slot.”

  Spencer’s stare bore into her, his pale green eyes churning beneath all the things he wasn’t saying. “Again, they did not ask me for my input.”

  “It’s unconscionable!” She gritted her teeth and breathed in, then ordered the release of calming biochemicals to counter the primal anger since trying to consciously control her behavior wasn’t getting the job done. The harsher sentencing guidelines might constitute a crime against all citizens of the Dominion, but today, she could only help Parc. “What do I need to do to get past security?”

  “I need the signature of the simmed ID morph you’re wearing so I can pre-clear you in the system.”

  She sighed. “It’s only the high-level officers and Advisors who have these insidious tools, right? Not the dynes staffing your average checkpoint?”

  He tilted his head, as if to hedge his answer. “As a rule. Earlier this morning, I inserted a single civilian visit authorization into Mr. Eshett’s file on account of good behavior. You’ll be that one visit. So long as you pass the lobby and detention wing entry security, they’ll let you in to see him. But be warned—everything you say and do will be recorded. So for stars’ sake, be discreet.”

  “I can do that. I’m simply a friend concerned for his well-being.”

  He exhaled and checked the perimeter again. “Nika, I looked at the complaint file. The evidence is airtight—he’s guilty of the burglary and attempted theft. Are you certain it’s worth the danger you’re putting yourself in to talk to him? I’m not sure what you expect to gain from it.”

  “If he’s guilty, it’s extremely out of character for him, which means there’s a reason for it. This all feels wrong, and I need to find out why.”

  “It’s your psyche at risk.”

  Yes, it is, but I will not lose it again.

  Spencer stood with an air of casual purpose. “Give me ten minutes to input your data into the system, then walk in the entrance like the upstanding citizen you aren’t.”

  Nika wished the dynes staffing the security checkpoint were Asterion; she could’ve charmed living, breathing people. But, no, they were all machines and immune to her most earnest mannerisms. For them, the only factors that existed in the universe were the security network and the data transmitted through it.

  Luckily, the false persona and Spencer’s tinkering passed muster. A roving dyne escorted her into the detention wing and up to the fourth floor. She followed it down an aisle of cells, every single one of which was occupied, and into the spartan glass cubicle opposite Parc’s cell. The dyne vacated the cubicle and locked her inside.

  Parc was sitting on a cot in the back of the cell wearing a distant, dreamy expression, and he didn’t appear to notice her presence.

  She approached the transparent barrier and tapped on it. “Parc?”

  He looked up, and a smile broke across his face. “Hey, N—”

  She raised a hand in warning, close in front of her body, and gave him a minute shake of her head. Her first name alone meant little, but there was no reason to add it to a Justice recording.

  His eyes widened in understanding. “—there. It’s good to see you. How’ve you been?”

  She frowned. How had she been? “Worried about you. What happened? Justice says you broke into a residence and stole equipment?”

  “Yeah….” He nodded idly. “I wanted new interface hardware, so I took some.”

  The frown deepened precipitously. “You just…broke in and took it?”

  “It seemed like the quickest way. But I got caught by patrol dynes, so…” he shrugged “…here I am.”

  Was this an act for the recording? Had he been dosed? Force-loaded a dampener routine? The Parc she knew was a constant tornado of mental energy that routinely spilled over into spastic physical energy when it wasn’t being directed toward his preferred pursuits. “Parc, did the officers here force you to load any special programs?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  Ηq (visual) | scan.all_bands(240°:60°)

  Λ → Η μ (null)

  Dammit, the cell was shielded against scans. “Did someone do something to you before you were arrested? Did you accept a street routine from someone while you were out last night? Or did you have any kind of suspicious encounter?”

  “Nah.” He toyed idly with the edge of the minimal cot covering. “I was strolling down the street near the Western Market, and I decided I wanted new hardware. So I broke into the first residence building I came to that looked expensive enough to have what I wanted. I guess I should have thought to check for security patrols nearby first, huh?”

  She’d never met this person talking to her. Whether Parc retained the memory of it or not, something had happened to him. She kept her voice measured and quiet. “They said you refused a Rep. You need to reconsider your decision. If you’re convicted on these charges, you can be sentenced to a decade or longer at Zaidam—then retired and reinitialized.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know. Well, maybe it’s time for a fresh start. I’d be okay with becoming someone new.”

  She blinked in disbelief. “You would?”

  “Sometimes you’ve got to move on.”

  Her stomach roiled in horror at what she was hearing—but now was not the time, dammit. In frustration she blocked her emotion processes from reaching her conscious mind. For a few minutes, until she got away from Justice’s ubiquitous surveillance.

  What else could she ask him? This was going nowhere useful. His laconic state prevented him from telling her anything concrete. The cell was shielded, so she couldn’t send him a private ping. She couldn’t ask any truly revealing questions, thanks to the recording. Think!

  “Parc, I know you installed a new limb augment the other day. Have you added any other hardware or software lately? Say, in the last two weeks or so?”

  He stared at her blankly, as if he hadn’t understood the question. Finally he shook his head. “No. Just the fancy fingers.” He stretched out a hand in front of him, but nothing happened. “They deactivated all my augments when they put me in here. Too bad.”

  He stood and crossed half of the cell toward her, then stopped. “Thanks for coming by to check on me, but you don’t need to worry about me
. Tell everyone I said hi…and bye, probably. Whatever happens, I’m fine with it.”

  16

  * * *

  Nika snatched up a stack of clothes from the dresser top and threw them toward the hamper chute. Since it wasn’t open, they landed in a heap on the floor. She roved absently around her room in search of…she grabbed her drink container and turned it up, guzzling down this morning’s now over-warm juice mixture before letting the container drop back onto the table and roll off the edge to the floor. Then she picked it back up and pitched it toward the ‘to wash’ basket by the door—

  —Perrin and Joaquim leaned against each side of the doorway, both staring at her warily. No telling how long they’d been there.

  “What?”

  Perrin’s nose scrunched up. “You’re a little upset.”

  The violent scarlet streaks in her hair today suggested she was upset, too. Perrin’s hair was a more reliable key to the state of her soul than her words ever were.

  Nika threw her hands in the air. “Yes! Yes, I’m upset. You weren’t there. You didn’t see him. He might as well have already been retired and reinitialized as someone else, for all the resemblance he bore to the Parc we know.”

  “Maybe he was acting for the cams?”

  “I thought so at first, but no. The transformation was too complete, not to mention far more extreme than was needed to mollify the cams or their watchers.” She groaned. “Worse, he didn’t give me a damn thing we can use to get him cleared. He admits to the crime and is content to accept his sentence—and what the hells is up with burglary suddenly being a retirable offense? How dare Justice—how dare the Guides—institute such a policy without a public referendum or even public notice?”

  Joaquim snarled in disgust. The lopsided cant of his overshirt suggested he was upset as well, though as was usually the case, his words did a fine job of conveying his mood. “We’ve been living in a dictatorship for a while now, but it sounds like the Guides have finally decided they don’t need to try to hide it any longer. They simply do what they want, and if we don’t like it, we can be reinitialized into someone who does.”