Project Enterprise (13 page)

Ahead of them, the cemetery looked even more like a miniature city. Stone walls made a sort of beachhead against a sea of glistening green. When the gate was reached, they found more hard surface beneath the grass, though it was not even in its disposition, lending itself to the additional concern of face-planting.

Old sidewalks, I would postulate. Even when they were widely used, they were somewhat inconsistent to navigate.

Inconsistent?

The city tended to sink in an uneven manner. It was built on a swamp
and continues to sink even now.

Oh.
What was it about this spot that had attracted their attention in the first instance?

The river. The water was their transit.

This dead city, in its way, was as interesting as the floating one. The cemetery had once been surrounded by something somewhat similar to the city above, so it would have had pedestrian paths, these uneven sidewalks.

“Are there vids of when the city was here?” he asked, surprised to realize he'd voiced the question aloud.

“Yeah” She half frowned. “My Paw Paw likes watching old vids, prefers something called spaghetti westerns, but he also likes seeing the city how it used to be, too. I can ask him for a list, if you'd like.”

“I would like,” he said, surprised that he meant it. It would have made this trip more interesting if he could imagine how it had been, had been able to “see” that old city here as they moved around.

Once through the narrow gate, the height of the grass diminished some, Joe noticed, and the ratio of grass to weeds modified to a ratio better for the grasses.

“The Catholic Church tries to maintain the cemeteries,” Vi said, as if he'd asked. “They still own them, you know. Looks like they mow the grass every now and again.”

Lurch could have provided much information on the NOO cemeteries, but it did not seem necessary to circumstances and Joe found info dumps distracting when not need-to-know. In any case, Vi provide more than sufficient distraction. He noticed she looked from right to left as she walked along the narrow row between the crypts, her walk lacking its usual determined grace, though that was the fault of the mud and heavy boots. He would not have minded the distraction she provided if she did not also boost the heat factor. He tugged at the neck of his gear. The intense humidity compounded his discomfort, and their gear provided no way for natural cooling to occur.

“Do you seek something…” The cold spot had to be some distance off.

“We have some family history here, or I think it was here. Just wondered if I'd see
the
crypt but the carvings are so faded, there's no way to tell. If I'd known I was coming here, I'd have downloaded a map.” She paused and looked back at him.

“
The
crypt?” Joe asked.

“Oh, this ancestor of ours wasn't buried here.”

Joe blinked. “So
the
crypt is where this ancestor
wasn't
buried?”

“Yeah.”

He considered asking for additional clarification, but his last attempt had not gone well. There were many things, he'd learned, that failed to bridge his alien divide.

She looked around her. “Weird ass place. Our Voodoo Queen is supposed to be buried here, you know. Wish we had time to put some
gri gri
on her tomb.”

Her grin almost knocked him back a step. He had to smile back. It would have been rude not to, but he felt uncomfortable when she didn't immediately resume her progress toward the cold spot.

“You have a nice smile, Joe.” She tipped her head to one side. “You should let it out to play more often.”

A nice smile? Was that a good thing? Nice felt lukewarm. Though there was little luke about his present warmth.

Lurch seemed to sigh.
Yes, my friend, it is a good thing.

“I will endeavor to do so,” he said, wishing he could match her casual tone. Something in her expression changed though he could not isolate and identify what. His smile faltered. She distracted him when he didn't look at her. Looking increased her distraction factor exponentially and tended to cause a rise in internal temperature, one easily noted by Lurch. Though it tried to respect Joe's privacy, it could not help but notice physiological reactions to outside stimuli. Or be amused by them, which tended to increase the effect. It was unprofessional of Joe to be distracted by her.

As Baker had said to a crime scene tech recently, “Eyes forward, Stigson. We're not here to get hot and bothered.”

Stigson had kept his eyes forward, but heat and bother were inevitable with or without the personal aspect, thanks to the climate in this place. The heat index should have been sufficient excuse to the nanite when Joe experienced his temperature variations, but Lurch seemed able to parse which variation was caused by heat and what was caused by heated.

He glanced—casually he hoped, though feared he failed—to one side, then the other. “It is most quiet here.”

And then it became more than a distraction from looking at Vi. It
was
quiet. Too quiet? The hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Or tried to. Sweat and the heavy suit kept them down, but it felt as if they lifted. The feeling of something ominous was most marked. And easily explained by the approaching storm.

“Even nature is getting out ahead of WTF.” She grinned once more.

This grin was different, more like the ones others used when using the storm's acronym. He had wondered, but not asked. According to Lurch, explained jokes were no longer humorous.

Perhaps she sensed his confusion for she added, “The Hurricane Naming Board got so caught up in being politically correct, they forgot to check the initials before they released the name into the wild. Once it was out, there was no taking it back.”

This did not help as much as she'd perhaps hoped, so Lurch supplied the translation and further explanation, enough that Joe found that not all jokes lost humor upon explanation. He smiled involuntarily and got caught in her intent gaze once more. The air shifted and the wind picked up, reminding them that WTF was incoming and it was no joke.

Vi started a bit. “We should hurry.” She yanked a booted foot out of the mud. “Try to hurry.”

Did she look regretful? Or did he hope she did? It was not as if they had a future together. He was not sure he would have a future. Even his past had become murky, since Lurch moved into his head and launched him on this crazy quest.

Their progress resumed, it seemed harder to walk in the lanes than it had in the tall grasses, possibly because their boots sank deeper into the mud. These paths must have degraded more than those outside the walls, or had been constructed differently. Some crypts were bordered by low fences almost obscured by weeds or grasses, others bumped up against the path. All were covered in green moss and black mildew, some were also covered in heavy vines. On many he could see outlines of names, but most were obscured despite the attempted upkeep. There was no question that their surroundings added to the growing sense of incoming trouble.

“Shouldn't be far now—” Vi stopped abruptly. “
What
the—”

Joe had a feeling she meant this in the actual meaning of WTF, not the storm name, despite the cutoff at the end. It didn't take the sight of the hovering body bag for Joe to know they had arrived at their crime scene. All he had to do was watch Vi switch to detective mode. She rolled her shoulders and he knew her gaze would narrow and turn laser sharp. She had the best technology that the NONPD could afford, but her eyes, her brain were, in Joe's opinion worth more than all the tech.

Except me.

Of course,
Joe agreed, though he wondered. Was it possible to know too much? So much one lost the ability to follow intuition?

That is why I have you.

I lack Vi's flair.

You lack experience. The ability to go with your gut. But you are learning.

Would he learn in time? Joe grabbed the kit off the body bag and initiated deployment to secure their scene. The electronic grid would protect the integrity of the scene, though “integrity” did not seem indicated in their present circumstances. The bag launched, tracking toward the body. Once centered over it, it “taped” their scene, the name a relic of a different time, according to Lurch. Then it released a variety of collection probes, including a vid module that would create the 3D scan of the crime scene. Within a minute, all possible portable non-naturally occurring materials had been collected by tiny drones, tagged and secured to the underside of the body bag. The red electronic tape turned gold, an indication that they could now enter their scene. He activated protective hand and face gear. As though it was not already hot enough.

At this point, they did not know a crime had been committed, well, other than the illegal body dump, he reminded himself, though without much hope. At least the tech would enable them to secure what evidence had survived the rain and wind before the storm drenched the scene again. He checked the time, then the storm's progress on his portable tech. Ran the numbers. It must be an illusion that the dark clouds looked closer than the tech showed them to be. The wind had increased, though without cooling anything. It flowed past, weighted with water and heat.

Vi activated her crime scene gear and followed him through the tape where she crouched by the body.

“This guy did not die in his sleep.”

It was true the eyes retained a look of horror that was not comfortable to see. Joe's head set produced a list of just-collected debris. He was not sorry for the distraction from looking at those eyes. The only thing of interest was something called a Royal Crown Cola bottle. And a banana spider. The bot shouldn't have grabbed the spider, though the malfunction did not surprise him. And he was happy not to have to share space with the large arachnid. He looked around and spied the shredded remains of a huge web tucked under the crypt's overhang. There was not much other debris from the scene and little that appeared related to their corpse. The dead man huddled between two small columns as if he'd been sitting on one of the three steps leading to the imposing crypt, and then died, rolling onto his back, with his knees drawn up to his chest. He wore trousers, but his upper torso appeared to be bare. Joe touched one leg. Pushed on it. It gave a little, but was still somewhat frozen to his bare chest. That would explain why he'd shown as a cold spot. The intense heat would boost the contrast.

“Looks like someone emptied their freezer,” Vi murmured.

“Emptied the freezer?” Joe felt some disquiet. And much confusion. The corpse wasn't solidly frozen, but it hadn't shown up on the sensors prior to their leaving District Headquarters. It had to have been dumped between their last scan and the activation of their sensor on approach. Perhaps a window of fifteen minutes? But the partial thaw indicated it had been here longer. Or been allowed to partially defrost prior to dumping?

“In the early days, soon after the city was raised, the bad guys experienced problems getting rid of inconvenient corpses.”

Joe blinked, thinking through this “problem.” He frowned. “They used to bury them.” His brow cleared. “But soil is not deep in the raised city.” Weight issues. The raised city boasted hologram trees because the soil lacked the depth for real ones—a move that had initially been very unpopular until the cost was totaled up and presented to the taxpayers of the time. The cobblestone paths in the French Quarter were also simulated.

“They used to freeze stiffs until they could dump them down here, but that was before we had better sensors. I haven't heard of a freezer dump for a long time.” She frowned, considering. “Years.”

He noted she did not use the words “good” or “effective” to characterize the “better” sensors. He'd have called them barely adequate, but there were higher priorities. He frowned. “Perhaps they hoped to capitalize on the confusion prior to the storm's arrival?”

“Then they seriously mistimed it. No confusion yet.” There was a beep indicating an identity match. Vi's frown deepened. “He's a dirt-sider. A squatter.”

Like those they'd been sent to collect.

“Perhaps he expired and other dirt-siders were fearful the death would cause them problems?” Joe offered the idea without much conviction.

“If they wanted to hide a body, they wouldn't freeze him. That preserves a body. If they wanted to hide him, they'd bury him. Bodies decompose fast in this heat, plus the critters would help them out. Anyway, I doubt a squatter would have access to a freezer. The power grid is patchy down here, especially around the NOO airport where they squat. They only maintain power around industrial areas and farms.” She shook her head.

“Then someone wanted this body found intact.” It was the only logical conclusion.

She sighed. “We'll need to notify HQ, but let's bag this bad boy first, get it back to the skimmer before our power runs out.”

Using her portable unit, she maneuvered the bag until it hovered just above the body. “Pray we have enough power,” she muttered. She punched a button and a web shot out on either side, slithering out of sight under the corpse. When the webs had connected, the body was lifted until it was snug against the bag platform. Vi rotated the bag, so that body rested on top of the platform. This brought the underside of the body into view. The bare back was covered with round pockmarks in an almost regular pattern.

“What the—” Vi began and once again stopped. She stepped close and examined the marks.

Joe couldn't move. He wanted to move. To flee. His body felt as cold as the corpse. But Lurch had locked him down.

Get under control.
Lurch's voice was sharp in his head.

He could breathe, but that was all. He looked down until he was sure he had his expression under control, the one part of him Lurch couldn't help.
I am.