Superego (34 page)

I set the Gray Beetle to fly in a wide circle while I planned. I would be executing a modified version of the plan I'd been working on with Diane. We'd been putting together my magnum opus of death and destruction—it was too good to just let go. So I had a what. It just bothered me that I didn't quite understand why I was doing it. I was partly doing it because it had originally been Diane's idea. She may have changed her mind, but deep down she wanted to see all this evil crushed in righteous fury. Secondly, it would keep the syndicates occupied while Diane came to her senses and left the planet and everything on it for good. The final reason I was intent on this action was because I had nothing else to do. As I said, my purpose in life was to kill. And the syndicates were people in need of a killing. It just fit.

“I have done some analysis,” Dip told me, “and this appears to be a suicide mission.”

That caught me by surprise. “Your analysis can determine such a thing?”

“The odds of success seem low.”

“You can never be certain about such things.” He did have a point, though. Was he right that I was trying to get myself killed? I didn't think I wanted to die. I seemed more neutral on that issue. I didn't care if I died. Eternal oblivion didn't seem that far removed from my current state. “I need your help with something.”

“Okay, but first I should inform you that your assaulting Melanie Fincher, who prefers to be known as Diane, was possibly illegal, though it may be looked at as self defense considering the fact that she is a wanted murderer on this planet. You should contact the police to get an official decision on that.”

“Not going to do that, but I need you to get me in touch with Gredler again.”

“Will do.”

Gredler soon answered. “Hello?”

“I just wanted to update you. I'm about to enter a risky situation to get more information. If you don't hear from me again soon…well, good luck to you.”

“If you help me here, I will follow through on my end of the bargain.”

“Good. I thought of something, though. What type of guns does your personal security team use?”

“I…don't know.”

“Have them get Arco X5 blasters. In some daring public assassinations Nystrom carried out in the past, the assassins used personal energy shields that block a great deal of lighter gun fire. You need at least something of the Arco X5 level to contend. It might sound like overkill, but if Nystrom does try to assassinate you, it could save your life.”

“Okay. Noted.”

“Listen to me. I know. Anyway, I'm going dark for a while. Hopefully you'll hear from me soon.” I ended the call. That was my final bit of preparation. I thought briefly about the very real possibility that I was going to die. By my own calculations, the odds were against me. In all likelihood, I would be killed, and the universe would move on—perhaps better for it. Did that mean anything to me? Did I care? I thought of Diane waking up, remembering what I did, and thinking dark thoughts of me as many have done before. Then hopefully she'd see my spectacular death in the news and move on, too.

Maybe I did want to die—to finally have an ending. I'd spent my whole life going nowhere in particular, but I still would have a conclusion. I hoped it would be a spectacular one, but I suspected it wouldn't be.

I stared up at the stars as if looking for God. For a moment I saw the beauty of the sky, but then my brain kicked in and I remembered that the pricks of light in the sky were only distant fission infernos of no particular interest to me. The universe was large and purposeless. There was no meaning. Only finality.

I thought of my love for Diane. It—love—hinted of greater things in the universe. But it was just a lie. A sweet lie my brain had conjured up to get me to keep living despite the utter pointlessness of it.

I was done thinking. It was time to lose myself in something else.

“Dip, I need you to try to get me in contact with Morrigan now.”

“Will do.”

Eventually I heard an unsure voice on the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Morrigan. It's Rico. We've had a bit of a bumpy relationship, haven't we?”

“Like when you shot Vance in the face? I liked Vance. I liked when she had a face. You shot a lot of people I liked—and others I didn't like but was responsible for—and now I have to answer the executives, ‘Why are these people dead?' And somehow you only managed to stun Donner. I almost think you didn't kill her just to further annoy me—”

I heard some talking in the background, followed by, “Shut up, Donner! Just shut up!” Then Morrigan continued in a more subdued tone. “But I could just go on and on about me and my problems. So how are you and your girlfriend?”

“We had a bit of a falling out. It was sad.”

“Well, you come here and tell me all about it.”

“Are you at the bordello?”

“That I am. You see, I've had to lie low since
someone
told Gredler I'm with Nystrom—oh! That was you, wasn't it? It must have been hilarious.”

“Okay, well I'm heading over to see you now.”

“Great! We'll have a lovely talk.”

“There will not be any talking.”

There was some silence on her end, followed by laughter. “Awesome. Well, I have my dancing shoes on, so you'd better bring it, big boy. Bring the absolute best you have.”

The end was coming. The thought made me feel empty inside. I was comfortable that way.

CHAPTER 37

“Can I help you, sir?”

The receptionist was a young human female who looked to be of no threat. There was a certain skepticism to her tone, though. Wearing some basic street clothes and a cheap-looking blue jacket, I was perhaps dressed a little too casually for such a fancy building. The lobby was opulent, decked out with sculptures of humans and Corridians, fountains, and a giant crystal- and gold-adorned chandelier dangling high above me. I hadn't had time to get a new suit since I'd been on the lam, though. “I am here to visit the thirty-first floor.”

“Oh.” More skepticism. That was supposed to be a very exclusive destination. “What's your name?”

“Rico Vargas.”

She checked her computer screen, then looked at me and back at her screen. “Oh, I have you right here, Mr. Vargas. I'm afraid I don't have health records for you, though.”

“Will that be a problem?”

“Federal law states that you must submit to some basic blood work before you can visit such an establishment. I can actually do it now. There will be a fee, though. Fifty.”

“Fifty in what currency?”

“Standard Alliance dollars.”

“Oh; duh. Of course.” I fished out of my pocket a stick of my credit info and handed it to her. “Will this work?”

“Let me see.” She scanned it. “Yes. That will work nicely.” She handed it back to me. “I'll need to prick one of your fingers. Which hand would you prefer this on?”

Didn't really matter to me, but I held out my left, as I was slightly right-dominant. She pricked my ring finger with a small pin and then checked her computer screen. “You're good.”

“Good to know.”

“You'll need to see security now.”

A security guard approached me—a Corridian male who also didn't look like much of a threat. He waved a clear, thin wand over me. It beeped at my pockets. “Could you please empty your pockets, sir?”

I complied and took out a small, folding knife I had with me. “I think this was it. Were you scanning for metal?”

“Among other things. Anyway, you can't take that up with you.”

“Really?” It was just a little knife; that seemed a little extreme.

“I can hold it for you, Mr. Vargas,” the receptionist offered.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

The security guard handed the knife to the receptionist and then waved his wand over me again. “Okay, you're good now.”

“Just head down that hallway to the elevators and take the center one to floor thirty-one,” the receptionist instructed me.

“Could you please let them know I'm on my way up?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you very much.” I gave my friendliest smile. It never hurts to be polite.

I went down the hallway to the elevators, entered the center elevator, and hit the button for the thirty-first floor. Now Morrigan knew I was on my way and unarmed, and she probably suspected something was up. And these suspicions were confirmed when the elevator opened with no one inside. Then came the loud crash as the unmanned Gray Beetle smashed through the wall onto the brothel's floor, crashing around inside before coming to a stop near the elevators, where I assumed Morrigan's people were waiting with guns drawn. And that's when the explosives went off inside the Gray Beetle, sending fire, concussive force, and shrapnel in all directions.

Where was
I
? I had taken a second elevator to the thirty-second floor, a posh restaurant now filled with many alarmed patrons. I had made sure the Gray Beetle would pitch upward before it stopped, which had punched a minor hole in the restaurant's floor. The explosion had opened it up further, and while the patrons fled, I made for the smoky crevice and jumped down.

Smoke fought against emergency lighting. There was very little visibility, but I had an advantage over my enemies: I just had to kill anything that moved, while they most likely wanted to be more careful than that. My first order of business was getting a gun. There was a man trying to stand up near where I'd landed. I slammed his head into the floor and groped around for his gun. When I stood up, someone else stumbled by, and I grabbed a gun from her while elbowing her in the face. I then immediately fired on a couple of silhouettes I saw in the smoke. I had no idea how many combatants I was dealing with or how many were still alive, but all I was going to concentrate on was finding Morrigan. Maybe she'd been killed in the initial blast, but I doubted I would be that lucky.

I moved through the smoke, shooting anything I thought I saw moving. I spied someone out of the corner of my eye and turned and shot who I thought might be a female figure. I approached for confirmation, but then the smoke cleared enough that I saw a very determined set of eyes bearing down on me. She was quick but not quick enough, and I quickly had a lock right back on those eyes and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. An instant too late, I noticed it had gotten darker. The emergency lighting was gone, and the only light emanated from the many fires around the brothel. Morrigan had something in her hand—some sort of EMP device. That would only delay the guns for a second before they went onto backup circuitry, but a second was all she needed to close in on me. I barely got my hands up to block as her fist came toward me like a small wrecking ball trying to demolish my skull. She knocked me down, and I lost grip of my guns.

She could have just stood back and shot me, but she wanted to personally beat me to death to show her contempt for me. That was arrogance. That would be her downfall.

Just not now.

Before I could stand she pounced on me, but we were near the center of the blast and the weakened floor gave way. We fell and slammed hard into the floor below us, and the debris from above pelted us. I worked against my aching body to scramble to my feet. Morrigan was already standing two yards in front of me. There was no humor in her expression—she was ready to kill me.

She was much stronger than I was, but she was also much stronger than someone with her frame should have been. That meant she'd be easy to throw off balance if I could just get her to commit her full strength to a strike and miss. When she came at me, I ducked under her left hook while putting my full force into a body blow. The muscles were so strong in her abdomen it was like hitting a heavy bag. I assumed it hurt, but it didn't seem to faze her. She followed with a kick I couldn't dodge and had to block. I barely kept my balance.

I wanted to put distance between us, but that was just panic. I ignored it. Morrigan would be expecting a retreat and would be ready to use it. I had to figure out how to fight her in close, and that meant a lot of finesse and going for her vulnerable spots…like her face. No creature ever likes getting hit in the face. And it would make her mad. She was the better fighter, so I needed her to make mistakes. She threw a straight punch that I dodged. She followed up with another left hook. I ducked under it and tapped her in the gut again, just wanting to make the connection and not worrying about the power behind it. Now came a roundhouse kick. I barely got out of the way, got behind it and pushed her off balance.

Now I had my small window of opportunity, and I slammed my fist into her face as hard as I could. She came right back at me with an elbow, but it missed, and I hit her hard in the head again. No fortified muscles there to soften the blow. She was hurting, possibly dizzy. This I had to keep building on.

She threw a panicked left and then a right, and I easily dodged both and came back once again as hard as I could to her face. Just as I connected I realized she wasn't trying to dodge the punch. As I hit her, it felt like a sledge hammer had smashed into my ribs. She had sacrificed another strike to the head just to make sure she got one clear blow on me, knowing that was probably enough to end the fight. And that's why brute force usually beats finesse.

It stunned me long enough for her to land a kick to my other side, shattering those ribs as well. I fell down and instinctively put my right arm up to protect myself, but she came with an iron grip on my wrist and then nailed my elbow, pulverizing it. I tried to get to my feet and pull free, but her foot shattered my knee. In a last-ditch effort, my left hand went for a hunk of concrete lying near me to throw at her, but she quickly grabbed my hand and squeezed until all the bones broke. Then her fist found my face, like a steel piston being jammed into my skull. I wasn't sure if the skull was broken—I was so rattled I was hardly sure of anything.