Dead Man on the Moon (16 page)

"I remember you," she said in a nasal voice. "You threw us out. Naked."

"That was me," he said. "Can I come in? I need to ask you a few questions about Viktor Riza."

Chew chew chew. "Who?"

"Viktor Riza. The guy you and Bredda were sharing with my roommate."

"Oh. Him. What about him?"

Noah shot a glance up and down the corridor. Other people passed in a continual stream. "This might be better discussed in private. May I come in?"

She wordlessly stepped aside and Noah entered.

The tiny apartment smelled of coffee. Clothes were strewn over a second-hand couch and over a tiny table that took up most of the floor space. The holographic window showed a blank gray slate. Crysta made no apologies for the state of the apartment, nor did she try to shove the clothes out of sight. Instead she leaned against the table, making it clear this had better be short and sweet.

"Is your roommate here?" Noah asked. He set his obie to transcribe.

"Nope. You really pissed
your
roommate off. He still mad?"

"I haven't talked to him. Are
you
still mad?"

She shrugged. "I've been through worse. What's going on? I'm busy."

"When was the last time you saw Viktor?"

"Last night." Crysta rummaged around in the mess on the table and came up with a packet of caffeine gum. She unwrapped a piece and folded it into her mouth, adding it to the wad she was already working on. "Why?"

"Where did you see him?"

"We were crossing the Dome. Bredda said she knew a place where we might find some privacy. What's this about?"

"Viktor drowned last night in one of the fish ponds," Noah said.

Crysta gasped. "He
died?."

"The medical center resuscitated him, but he's legally dead. I'm trying to find out what happened."

"Oh geez." Her face looked distracted, but her jaws never stopped chewing. It was as if they were hooked to a separate machine. "Poor guy."

"What can you tell me about that night after you left our apartment?" Noah asked.

" 'Left'? That's a cute way of putting it." But it was clear the barb was reflexive. Crysta's face remained distracted as she thought a moment. "Like I said, we went down to the Dome. From there we were supposed to go to some place Bredda knew. I didn't go, though."

"What happened?" Noah prodded.

She hesitated, though her jaws continued to move. "Bredda and Viktor ... they took more . . . they were ..."

"Were they taking drugs?"

"Look, I don't want to get anyone into trouble," Crysta said.

"I'm investigating a death," Noah said. "I'm not really concerned with who was taking what. Were they on something?"

Crysta hesitated again before responding. "Yeah. It was Blue. Viktor . . . Viktor had already taken some. I'm not really into that scene, especially not that heavy, you know?" Chew, chew, chew.

"Where did he get it? The Blue, I mean."

"I don't know. But there was this guy in the Dome."

"A guy?"

"Bredda saw him and made us stop so she could talk to him. Viktor talked to him, too. I kind of stood back because he made me nervous, you know? I didn't
want
to get close. There are some real weirdos up here."

So Viktor
had
talked to the guy in the Dome. He had said he couldn't remember. Was that a lie or the truth?

"Can you describe the man?" Noah asked.

Crysta shook her head. "They were standing in shadows, and I was looking around in case someone else came by. I was getting nervous. I don't know why. Something felt off, you know?" Chew chew chew. "Anyway, when they finished talking to that guy, both Bredda and Viktor took more hits of Blue. Viktor was pitching a tent in his pants and he kept grabbing at Bredda. She was pushing him away, but not trying very hard, you know? They were both staggering and kind of giggly He started grabbing for me, but I'd had enough. I told them to fuck off and I came home."

"Did Viktor argue with anyone? The guy in the park, maybe?"

"Not that I saw. They talked real quiet."

"What time did you get home?"

Shrug. "I don't know. Two o'clock?"

"Did you wake your roommate up?"

"Wendy? She sleeps like the dead."

"Did anyone see you in the Dome?"

Crysta folded yet another piece of gum into her mouth. "I don't know. It was pretty deserted at that time of night."

"How did you hook up with Bredda and Wade and Viktor?"

"We were all in the bar, having a few drinks, feeling good. Wade and Viktor were pretty cute, and I was feeling horny, so I was up for whatever. Wade said his roommates didn't care if he partied in his room, so we all four went back there. I thought about asking the other roommate— you know, to be polite—but Wade didn't want to. More men than women always makes it more difficult, he said, unless the guys are into each other. We partied around for a while. Then you showed up and tossed us out."

Noah switched off his obie. "Okay, thanks. I may have follow-up questions."

"So Viktor's not Viktor anymore?" Crysta said. "I mean, he died and everything."

"That'll be up to him," Noah replied.

"So even if you got him on drug charges, it wouldn't matter because he's a different person now, right?"

Noah switched his obie back on. "What kind of drug charges do you think Viktor might come up on?"

"Well, he used all that Blue. That's a crime, right?"

"Did he sell Blue to anyone that you know of?"

"Not that I saw."

Noah thanked her again and left. He felt like he had a few more pieces to his puzzle, but it was obvious several more were still missing. Who had Viktor talked to in the park? It might be worth it to stop by the medical center and ask, see if Viktor had regained any memories or if he'd "accidentally" left out any parts of his story. Victims were often reluctant to come forward about every single thing they had done prior to a crime, either because they feared reprisal or they were embarrassed. A Blue dealer was one of those things that often got left out. First, though, he had to interview Bredda Meese.

Following his obie's directions, Noah walked a few underground blocks to her apartment. Plants lined every tunnel, and vines covered the walls. Parts were so narrow that the bushes brushed against Noah as he walked, and the ceiling came down to just above his head. There was barely enough room to let people pass in the other direction. Feeling vaguely claustrophobic, he called up Bredda's picture on his monocle. Bredda Meese was all lines and angles, sharp of profile, sharp of gaze. Her eyes were gray flint, her hair done in dark spikes. Her chin came to a point. Noah kept one eye on the picture and one eye on where he was going. It was late afternoon now, and the plant-lined corridors were crowded with people who had finished classes for the day. They paid no attention to Noah. Already he was learning the loose, careful stride adopted by humans on Luna. It was simply a matter of paying attention, of learning how
much strength to use. He still couldn't get over feeling like a barely tethered balloon, though.

The person who answered the door at Bredda's apartment clearly wasn't Bredda. This woman was rounder and plumper, with buzz-cut blond hair, and she gave Noah a predatory look up and down when he asked for Bredda. Her gaze made Noah felt like a piece of beef hanging on a hook and he forced himself not to shift his feet.

"Bredda hasn't been here in weeks," the woman said. "It's great, actually—I have a whole apartment to myself." She opened to door wider, and her low-cut blouse exposed some bosom. "Want to come in and look?"

"When was the last time you saw her?" Noah asked instead.

"Not since the middle of last term. She must be paying her rent, but I never see her, and her stuff's gone." A look of concern crossed her face. "You aren't going to report this to housing, are you? They might try to put someone else in here, and—"

"If you see her," Noah interrupted, "would you get hold of me through Security?"

"Anytime you like, sugar."

He left before she could respond further. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, then removed them when he discovered it threw off his newfound balance. Okay. Crysta, Bredda, Wade, and Viktor had all hooked up at a bar and come over to use Wade's apartment for an orgy. Viktor had taken a couple hits of Blue. Then Noah had come home and thrown them all out, except for Wade. They were all still horny. Bredda claimed to know a place where they could do a three-way, and what guy with a hard-on would refuse that? Presumably, Bredda was thinking of the corner of the fish farm. On the way there, the trio had gone through the Dome and talked to a mysterious stranger, possibly a Blue dealer. Crysta had gotten nervous and bailed, nullifying Viktor's chances for a threesome. Down at the fish farm, or maybe en route, Viktor had taken a
whole lot more Blue. Then someone had held his head underwater in a water tank and killed seven percent of his brain. All this Noah knew. The problem was, it didn't really take him anywhere.

So now what? A moment ago he'd had a lead. Now he'd hit a dead end. Still, Bredda might have more information, and she had to live
somewhere.
Unless the Morlock rumors were true—something Noah doubted—Bredda had to be holed up someplace besides her apartment. The most likely connection was the guy in the park, whoever
he
was.

Noah's obie buzzed, and a small message window popped up on his monocle. The message reminded him that the tech rehearsal was set to begin in fifteen minutes, and he was ten minutes away from the theater in Tourist Town. Noah loped toward the train, then forced himself back into a walk as his body threatened to bound toward the ceiling again. Maybe he could work some low-gravity urinal jokes into his act?

As Noah boarded the crowded, stuffy train, it occurred to him that he still hadn't really thought about what he was going to do on stage. On the other hand, the lack didn't bother him. Back in college, when a sizable portion of his income had depended on his ability to please an audience, he had spent hours researching, writing, and developing his material. Up here, though, he had just been too busy to think about it. In any case, he was a captive performer and they were a captive audience. Besides, he had a dozen stock songs, stories, and jokes that he could sew into an hour's worth of entertainment at a moment's notice. If he sucked, the worst that would happen was that he might get reassigned to shoveling fish poop.

And speaking of Ilene—or something related to her— maybe he should hold off on the urinal jokes if she was going to be in the audience. Although she seemed to have a straightforward sense of humor, it was too early to tell how much was real and how much was impress-the-other-person bravado.

The train halted, and Noah disembarked with a small knot of people. It occurred to Noah that their footsteps sounded . . . different. Lighter gravity combined with tile made on Luna of lunar materials made for odd-sounding footfalls. A blond woman gave him a brief glance, and he thought of Ilene again. Did she want to impress him? It seemed more likely she was used to everyone trying to impress
her.
Well, Noah wasn't going to worry about it. Ilene probably wasn't anyone he would end up with on a long-term basis.

Still... what would it be like to marry into the Hatt family? Would he continue working at the crime lab or get involved in Hatt Testing Laboratories in some way? Maybe he'd just live a life of leisure, a trophy husband to a rich and beautiful woman worming his way into the horseback and canapé crowd. He could winter in the Bahamas and summer in Switzerland, with the occasional jump over to Hong Kong for variety. With his staff, of course. Someone would have to arrive ahead of him to ensure the meals were ready and the mints were on the pillows.

These pleasant thoughts kept him occupied as he made his way through Tourist Town to the Sueyin Dai Memorial Theater. Because the entire theater and the corridor it occupied was underground, only a large pair of double doors and a lighted marquee indicated its presence. Noah looked up and was both surprised and pleased to see his name there.
Noah Skyler: New Vaudeville Revue,
it read, and listed the performance as starting tomorrow at eight o'clock.

Noah grinned. He hadn't seen his name in lights since college.

Maybe it would impress Ilene.