Inquisitor (13 page)

“I, uh…” Charlotte sounded uncertain. “I sent him a message that you’ll meet him somewhere out of the way. Secure. But he’s already here,” she said simply.

Angel strode to the personnel exit and caught herself checking her appearance in the polished brightness of the walls and doors. When she did, her lips tightened, and she gave a brief shake of her head. At the exit, she waited for the doors to cycle then open, and she stepped from the stale air of the ship into the humid air of Wu, still as spicy and exotic as usual, even when treated by the spaceport’s environmental systems.

Down the ramp and into the terminal, and there he was. It was him. He still looked young and as handsome as ever. Bloody hells, why did he have to look the same?

He smiled brightly at her and struck her to her heart. “Angel,” he said in his husky voice, in a tone that made her think he was amused. “It’s been a while.”

“Mikal Gedion Linz Castell, that it has. I lost your number.”

Mikal raised an eyebrow and ran a hand over his too-short brown hair, blue eyes gazing into hers. She looked away, ashamed of the way she’d treated him back then. He deserved better from her.

“I’m easy to find,” he said softly.

“Some of us have to work for a living.”

“I’ve heard you’re quite good at your job.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a long way from mercenary work. Anyway, there’s something I need you to do.”

“I knew it had to be something—”

“Don’t start!”

Mikal raised both hands. “I won’t.” He sighed. “What do you need?”

“I need a box opened. Or rather, the girl trapped inside does.”

Mikal raised both eyebrows this time.

Angel smirked at him. “I knew that would get you. But there’s more. I don’t think she’s really inside. I think whatever she used to be has been… altered.”

•

They stood beside the smooth black box, now trailing two cables. Angel had checked the system news and set her implants to alert her if any reports on them or their ship, or Mercurial Logic, came in. So far, all was quiet, which raised her suspicions.

“It’s an encrypted biometric lock,” Mikal said. “And it needs a unique passkey. I don’t do this kind of thing anymore.”

“But you will, for me.”

Mikal sighed and shook his head. “Yes, for you, I will.”

“Can you open it?”

Mikal nodded slowly. “Not now. I’ll need tools. Some I can get from work, but I keep a few more at home. I don’t like my skills getting rusty.”

“Girls like guys with skills.”

Mikal chuckled. “Some do. So, I’ll need to go back to my place. Would you like to come with me? You can help carry stuff back.”

[Please hurry, Angel. We can’t stay on this planet too long.]

Against her better judgment, Angel agreed to help. She couldn’t stand being in his presence for long after what she’d done to him, and the sooner they were gone, the better. Just standing next to him made her skin itch. She could sense how close he was… feel his warmth even through her clothes.

They sat in silence for the whole taxi ride to Mikal’s place. Some “place”. A suite on the top floor of an apartment building in one of the better districts. All polished stone floors, tasteful decorations, and so sparkling she expected a cleaning automaton to follow her around, mopping away her footprints.

Mikal looked sheepish and apologized for the state of his apartment, as if he thought there was something suspicious about cleanliness. No, that wasn’t right. He was embarrassed about what he’d become, and he thought she’d judge him for it. But who was she to judge? She had no right. They’d run together as mercenaries, and it had been an exciting time. They’d been young. She knew now his sedentary life had its own rewards. Not being shot at, for one.

“My equipment’s in here. In the closet. I can’t risk anyone finding it, so…” Mikal awkwardly avoided her gaze.

“You keep up to date, though, right?”

“Yes. I’ve a few contacts, people still in the business. And it helps with my current role.”

Listen to him. Role
, she thought. The corporations were rubbing off on him. That was good, though, wasn’t it? He deserved to be happy.

“So,” continued Mikal, “what do you think is in the box?”

Angel bit her lip. “In the beginning I thought I was rescuing a girl, but all I found was that big, black monstrosity. A girl couldn’t survive inside there for long. The corporation—Mercurial Logic—must have done something to her. Maybe it’s just her brain—”

Mikal coughed into a hand.

“I know!” Angel protested. “Unlikely, but it could be. Or some sort of amalgam. I suspect it’s a new type of AI. But we’ll have to be careful. It could be booby-trapped.”

Mikal barked a laugh. “You’re joki—” He stopped when he saw the expression on Angel’s face. “You’re not joking.”

Angel shrugged. “It’s secret high-tech research. It could be anything.”

They were in his bedroom. It was bigger than any place she’d lived in, ever. The lights were dim with a reddish cast, and she looked out a window taking up one entire wall. Nice view. A massive bed covered enough space for a troupe of dancers. Where did that thought come from?

He passed his palm over a wall, and it hissed open, revealing racks of clothes and drawers. She noted a couple of hangers sporting a woman’s dresses. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

Mikal knelt on the plush carpet and fiddled inside the closet. A container rolled out, filled with four shiny metallic briefcases and other, older, objects wrapped in stained cloth. She recognized them from the merc assignments they’d done together. Mikal ran a hand reverently over the cloths.

“My old tools. I still can’t bear to get rid of them. Obsolete, though, these days.”

Can we get on with it?
she almost asked, biting her tongue before the words came out.
You can be such a bitch
. Instead she said, “I take it we’ll need all four briefcases? Two each?”

Mikal stood. “Yes. We’ll take my private car back to the spaceport. I don’t want to take a taxi and risk getting caught with this equipment.”

She stared at him standing there, looking the same as when she’d left him years ago, dropping everything to help her, no questions asked. Something crumbled inside her, and she teared up, breath catching in her throat.

She reached out tentatively, fingers brushing the back of his hand. Their eyes met, and she felt a frisson of energy pass between them. Then, before she could stop herself, she was in his arms.

•

Angel stood in Mikal’s shower, letting the hot water wash over her, eyes closed, breathing in the steam. For a while, she managed to forget what a mess she was in, but when she moved to switch off the flow, it all came crashing back down.

The water stopped, and she let the warm air of the dryer blow over her skin. She dropped her head and ran her fingers through her thick, dangling hair. She left it damp, not wanting to spend any more time in this apartment, and hurriedly dressed.

She found Mikal in the kitchen, making coffee and pancakes. He always did like to do things himself. Angel rolled one up, dipped the end into a bowl of blue mush, some sort of mashed berries, and took a bite.

“We don’t have much time,” Angel said. “Especially now.”

Mikal, already showered and dressed, frowned at a screen to his right. An attractive news anchorwoman was talking soundlessly. Below her, breaking news text scrolled across the bottom of the screen. The picture flicked to the smoking ruins of buildings, then to a flat, featureless circle of glowing… rock?

“There’s been an explosion on Persephone, a terrorist attack centered on Mercurial Logic. They’re calling it an act of corporate terrorism. What have you gotten yourself into?”

The pancake turned to ash in her mouth. She chewed a couple more times and then managed to swallow. The whole of Mercurial Logic’s headquarters on Persephone was vaporized. She didn’t think they’d react like this. It wasn’t… they shouldn’t have.

“That wasn’t me,” Angel said.

“I know that wasn’t you. You wouldn’t… couldn’t… but they’re saying it was. According to the reports, you fired on a corporation called Mercurial Logic after fleeing the planet, on the run from murder charges, among others.”

“Shit.” Angel’s implants connected to the local news, and she scrolled through the announcements. When the pictures began streaming in, she felt as if the floor had dropped beneath her. A crater a few kilometers across sprayed cascades of molten rock. Near its center, there were patches of white-hot, glassy lakes. Around the edge, buildings charred to blackness melted onto the rim, where they solidified like tar. Angel’s detonations wouldn’t have caused anything like this. A troubling thought occurred to her:
how far would Charlotte go to cover her tracks?
Mercurial was the likely option, but she couldn’t know for sure.

“Shit, shit, shit. We’ve got to go.” She dropped the remains of her pancake onto the countertop.

“Not until—”

“Now. We go now. I’ll fill you in on the way, but we have to move.”

Mikal didn’t look pleased, but he nodded. They gathered up two of the briefcases each and left the apartment.

•

[Have you got that out of your system?] Charlotte subvocalized.

Angel strode up the ramp into their stolen cargo freighter. “You know, for a girl, you’re awfully nosey.”

[I hate to break it to you, but time is of the essence.]

“I know, it’s just… Forget it. We’re here now.”

As she made her way to the box, a change in the hold caught her eye. In one corner, where before there had been nothing, were five other boxes. Each of them was four meters to a side. They sat close together, as if in a herd, cables joining them together as well as linking them to the wall. They looked suspiciously like giant computers to her.

“What are—”

[Five state-of-the-art Mercurial Logic quantum processors, three the latest model, and two experimental. Mercurial have a presence here, and I have a few access codes that still work. It was easy enough to have them delivered.]

“Uh-huh, and we need these because…”

[Because this ship doesn’t have enough processing power for me. I need… more.]

“Angel, who are you talking to?”

She placed her two briefcases next to Charlotte’s box, then waved her gold bracelet at Mikal. “The girl in the box. Subvocal comms. It’s the latest craze.”

Mikal shook his head. “I’m sure it is. But you were never one to follow trends.” He placed his two cases on the ground and clicked them open, revealing soft foam interiors molded around various unidentifiable gadgets. He chose one, hesitated, then picked up another. The first he placed against the surface of the box, and the second next to the lock.

Angel backed away a few steps, leaving him to work alone and in silence. He always worked better that way. On second thought, she turned and made her way to the ship’s mess, requesting more pancakes. One wasn’t enough, and Mikal could be at it for hours. She ate a few, ordered them both coffees, and descended to the hold, carrying two mugs.

Mikal was frowning. In one hand he held a device pointed at the box, with a visor over his eyes transmitting a heads-up display.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He tilted his head to the side in a familiar gesture. Worry. “Could be something, could be nothing. This thing’s advanced, Angel. There’s a lot inside I have no idea about. Hells, it could even be a bomb and I wouldn’t know.”

“Do your best, then. I trust you.”

“It would be unwise to rely on my expertise. I might kill us both.”

“Sounds like an epitaph.”

“Not today it isn’t.”

“I’ve come this far. I’m not giving up now. Whatever’s inside is the key. I know it.” She clenched her hands into fists as hard as she could to ease her tension. “I’ll do it. When you’re ready. You can wait outside.”

Mikal smiled. “When have I ever done that?”

“Never.”

“Then I’m staying. It’s almost done.”

Her mouth opened. She closed it. “So soon?”

“Technology changes. The lock is a few years old, though one of the best at the time. Someone at Mercurial ought to have upgraded it. Sloppy. They should be fired.”

“I’ve had exactly the same thought,” she murmured.

“There’s two boxes, though.”

Angel paused. “Two?”

“Yes. One on top of the other. The lock opens the bottom box, but I can’t see a lock for the second.”

“Charlotte, what do you know about this?”

[The second box is just a processor; nothing to worry about.] Her voice tingled with excitement, and the words came more rapidly than usual. [Are you… is he… about to open the lock? I have to prepare myself.]

“Er, yes. Mikal, are we good to go?”

“Yes. I haven’t found any anti-tamper devices. And it’s unlikely they’d be too hidden. The researchers would have to access the interior, after all. Just say the word.”

Angel took half a step back. “The word.”

Mikal grinned at her. She sensed him send a command to his implants, obviously linked to his gadgets. Angel screwed her eyes up and bent over to look at the container.

A horizontal line split the front panel of the box in half, and a hissing noise followed steam, or some sort of colorless, odorless vapor, out of the crack. There was a gurgling sound. Then a clunk inside the box.

The bottom half of the panel moved out a few centimeters, then levered up to reveal a clear barrier, with the soles of two small feet pushing up against it. Everything beyond the soles of the feet was obscured by a pinkish, opaque substance.

“Well,” remarked Angel, “this wasn’t what I was expecting.”

With a whoosh, the barrier vanished, and a torrent of pink mucus flooded out, spilling across the floor and over their boots. Angel dropped the mugs, splashing coffee everywhere as she danced awkwardly in a vain attempt to avoid the thick liquid. It stank of sweat and chemicals, and of blood.

Into the center of the goop slid a naked, pale, blonde-haired girl.

Charlotte.

Chapter 8

Charlotte’s eyes jerked open, and vivid green irises quivered. Her mouth opened, and she vomited up mucus. She gulped in air to replace the sludge in her lungs, as if she were being born. Charlotte’s hands scrabbled in the goo, fingers scratching at the floor. On the side of her face, the telltale traces of implants glimmered blue for a moment before disappearing.