Back | Next
Contents

CHAPTER X

VIRAL

The reporter giving the news was the same too-handsome dude I’d seen two days ago when I arrived on Parthonia. His image floated above the holoscreen on a round table in the living room of the townhouse.

“They’re calling him the Dust Knight,” he continued. “His heroism from yesterday has turned into an interstellar viral sensation!” His image disappeared, replaced by a holo of Ruzik holding the frightened boy in his arms. And yah, even I could see how gorgeous he looked, all cleaned up, the rugged Knight. The mother and father rushed up to him, reaching for their child, both of them crying, thanking him.

“Talky talky,” Angel said, standing at my side as we watched the recording. None of us felt settled enough to sit down. “Too many words.”

“Just say, ‘Got boy,’” Ruzik agreed.

The holocaster appeared again, bubbling over with words. “Nor was he the only hero on the site today. An ER saved the boy’s parents, nearly getting herself killed in the process.” If that statement wasn’t bad enough, his image disappeared, replaced by one of me grabbing the parents and throwing them to the ground.

“Yes!” the holocaster cried, as if we couldn’t hear him. “Their rescuer is none other than Bhaajan, an ER first responder. Yesterday, at the site of the bombing that has so shaken the good folk of our glorious city, she rescued Evan Majors, a son of the Metropoli ambassador, and today she was on site to check for damages.” The image shifted, showing me stepping up next to Ruzik after he saved the boy. “Not only that, good citizens, but this responder is the PI brought in to help our police force solve the technocrat crime spree that has plagued our city.”

“Fuck!” I yelled.

“Bhaaj loud,” Angel commented.

“Max, turn that damn thing off!” I was so mad, I wanted to break the holo-table.

“Done,” Max said. The images disappeared.

I stalked across the living room. “I can’t believe it.” Turning around, I faced Angel and Ruzik, who were observing me now with the same bemused expression they had worn while we watched the holocast. “Everything is shot to high heaven.”

Ruzik glanced at Angel. “Bhaaj talky.”

Angel nodded her agreement, needing no words to make her point.

“Oh, stop it,” I said. “Don’t you see? They just broadcast my identity to the entire city. They couldn’t even get it right. I’m not an ER responder. But I am a PI. How’d they find out? And your holo has gone viral, Ruzik, not just here, but all across the Imperialate. No way can we stay hidden now. It’s like blazing a target across our backs, saying, ‘Here I am! Shoot me!’”

“Too many words,” Ruzik commented. “‘Fuck’ said it all.”

“I work in the shadows,” I said. “Now we have a huge light shining on us.”

“On you,” Angel said. “On Ruzik.” She regarded me with satisfaction. “Angel? In shadow.”

I stared at her. She had the right of it. “Yah. Good.”

“Where you go while we rescue?” Ruzik asked her.

“Chase buzzy thing,” Angel told him.

“What buzzy thing?” I asked.

Angel smirked. “This.” She put her hand in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a drone that resembled a gilded shimmerfly. “I catch. Turn off.”

“You sure?” As much as I wanted the drone, I didn’t want its owner tracing it to us.

“I break.” Angel came over and held out the drone. It did indeed lay crumpled in her hand. She had crushed the “head” that contained the tracking components of the shimmerfly.

I took the drone. “How’d you know how to break?”

“Hack show,” she said. “Long time ago.”

Ah. Hack was the genius cyber-rider who ran with Ruzik’s circle. Figuring how to deactivate a shimmerfly drone would be child’s play for him. He wasn’t here, however, and we had no shimmerflies on Raylicon, so Angel had needed to guess for this little tech-mech beast. I turned it over, hoping it remained intact enough to examine, but not enough for its owner to find us.

“Yah, is off.” I nodded to Angel. “Good job.”

She nodded back, accepting the compliment, which in Undercity parlance was a great one indeed, two words even.

“Max,” I said. “Can you analyze this drone?”

“Yes, but you should have me firewall it first. Just to be safe.”

“Good idea.”

“And Bhaaj,” Max added. “You have a few messages.”

I squinted at the air. “From who?”

“Everyone and her brother.”

“What?” Ever since Max had decided to learn weird idioms, sometimes I couldn’t even figure out what he meant. “Does that mean a lot of people want to talk to me?”

“Yes. Colonel Lavinda Majda; Dean Elizia Jaan at the University; Police Chief Hadar; Marza Rajindia, the spokeswoman for the Technology Party; Jazin Akarad, the spokeswoman for the Royalist Party; Gig Bayer, the spokesman for the Progressive Party; Evan Majors Senior, the ambassador to Parthonia from Metropoli; Professor Tamarjind Jakind, also known as Prince Tamarjind Majda; Ser Avaad, the spokeswoman for the Traditionalist Party; and Manuel Portjanson, the spokesman for the Modernist Party.”

“Gods,” I muttered. “Who sent me to hell?”

“It does seem trying,” Max acknowledged. “You also have a note from Highcloud.”

My mood surged. “Highcloud is alive?”

“It appears so. What shall I do with all these messages?”

I took a breath. “If you can respond to them for me, please do. For those you can’t, find out what they need and schedule my responses in a priority list. Put me through to Highcloud.”

“Working,” Max said. After a pause, he added, “Here is Highcloud.”

Highcloud’s androgynous voice rose into the air. “My greeting, Bhaaj.”

“You’re alive!” I grinned at both Ruzik and Angel. They regarded me patiently, waiting to see what was up.

“I thought the co-op explosion finished you off,” I said. “The server where I backed you up was also in the building.”

“It did destroy me.” Highcloud spoke in a perfectly calm voice, as if relating the weather instead of their demise. “The original me is gone. I am a copy you made about ten years ago on an outside server.”

“Oh.” My good mood dimmed, then brightened again. “I’m glad part of you is still here.”

“Thank you. Can I do anything for you?”

“I haven’t yet installed a house EI here. Can you download to this house?”

“One moment.” After a pause, it added, “I don’t have permission. This house is protected by an extraordinarily high degree of security.”

“Good,” I said. “I mean, about the security. Max, can you establish Highcloud here?”

“Yes, I can. I also have the priority list for you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Shoot?” Angel frowned at me. “Why shoot Max? Good talky thing.”

“Is just an Earth saying.” I was learning them, too. “Means ‘tell me.’”

“Here is the list,” Max said. “The most urgent that I can’t answer are the reps from the Royalist, Technologist, Progressive, Traditionalist, and Modernist parties. That’s my suggested order for priority. I’m setting up appointments. However, since the Traditionalists had you followed at the airport, you may want to move them up in priority.

“No, your order is fine. What about the Majdas?”

“The following is from Prince Tamarjind. ‘My greetings, Major Bhaajan. I hope you are doing well and recovering from recent events. I can imagine that you are inundated with duties at the moment. If you would like to reschedule your dinner with the family, we would be happy to change it to a time that better suits you. Please don’t feel you have to respond to this in person; you can have your EI let us know if you would like to reschedule. All of our best wishes, Tam.’”

I’d forgotten the dinner. Thank the saints he was willing to let Max take care of it. “When was I going over to their place?”

“Threeday evening. Tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. Please tell him I’ve no need to reschedule. However, they should know I can’t come without Angel and Ruzik.” I glanced at my two martial arts experts, who were watching this all with curiosity. “Say they are my bodyguards.”

“Will do. I also spoke with Colonel Majda’s office. She wants to know if you are okay, but says you don’t need to personally follow up. Her people are glad to talk to ‘your people,’ which means me. However, she does want to know why you just happened to be where that balcony fell.”

“Good question.” I didn’t believe in coincidences. “Tell her I’m fine and I’ll send her an update when I get a chance.”

“Done. I wasn’t able to reach Ambassador Majors, but his EI says he would like to thank you for saving his son’s life. Dean Jaan and Chief Hadar want an update on the case, and to ensure that you’re all right. Hadar also said, ‘What the hell is she doing, getting her face plastered all over the mesh?’”

“Hell, indeed,” I muttered. “Send a follow-up to Ambassador Evans. Find a courteous way to say I wouldn’t be offended by his relaying his thanks as a message rather than in person. You can tell him that his son handled himself well and showed great bravery. Tell Dean Jaan and Chief Hadar that I’m fine, I’ll update them soon as I have more info, all the usual stuff.”

“Will do. You have about ten minutes before you have to leave for your meeting with Jazin Akarad from the Royalist Party.”

That was fast. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then turned to Ruzik and Angel. “Before ledge fell, Angel, you hear drone. I not hear. And I have better ear. How you know?”

“Saw first.” Angel shrugged. “Gleam. Never see gleams like that.”

“Little gleam,” I pointed out.

“Yah. But not same as rest of city.”

Interesting. I hadn’t noticed. I’d become too used to the shiny tech here. I pulled the drone she’d captured out of my pocket and studied it. “Max, you get anything yet on this little bot?”

“Its mesh is protected,” he said. “The security is beautifully designed. The drone wasn’t meant to be a spy, however. Its original function was to monitor a garden and dispense pollen.”

“That’s odd, using a garden drone for spy work.” No wonder Angel noticed it. Back home, we didn’t have shimmerflies, so it would stand out more for her than for someone who had become so blasé about seeing them, they stopped noticing the pretty fliers.

“It reminds me of what happened at Greyjan’s,” Max said. “That also involved a clever use of tech designed for something else. The results are somewhat unsophisticated in that neither the improvised holosuit nor the drone worked that well, but sophisticated in the sense that they managed to do the tasks anyway, despite not being designed for them.”

“It’s different than what is going on with the murders and that explosion,” I said. “Those feel professional. Especially the way they left no clues. Or so Chief Hadar claims. It doesn’t fit. I didn’t care how smooth those attacks were. Everyone leaves clues.

“You think he’s lying?” Max asked.

“It’s possible. But I don’t see why he would. He’s got big names from all the political parties pressuring him to solve this case.”

“Logically, he’d want you to have as much data as possible,” Max said. “The faster you all close the case, the better he looks.”

“Unless I solve it instead of him.”

“I suppose it could be a territory dispute,” Max said. “But that isn’t in his best interest.”

“It’s in his best interest to make himself look good, not me.” I grimaced. “Especially now that everyone knows who I am, with my holo ‘plastered all over the mesh.’”

“He hired you,” Max pointed out. “Yes, the Majdas sent you. But as far as the public knows, you work for Hadar. The kudos usually go to the person in charge.”

I took a moment to figure out why this felt different. “Maybe until yesterday. When I worked on the ER teams at the co-op, I didn’t appear in any holocast except one, where I was just a figure in the background with all the other ERs. What happened today shines a spotlight on me and Ruzik. That could change my dynamic with Hadar. He was already cagey. Gods only know what will happen now.”

“He not like you,” Ruzik said.

“You see too?” I asked.

“Not want give you his name,” Angel said.

I tilted my head, puzzled. “Know his name.”

“Yah. He not like.”

I saw what she meant. “He not trust.”

“Yah,” Ruzik said. “Think you lie.”

“He does?” I asked, startled.

“Think you like slicks,” Angel said.

I scowled. “He’s a slick.”

“Small slick,” Ruzik said. “The big slicks, he not like them.”

Ah. I saw what they meant. Hadar might still believe I wanted to protect the Royalists, to sweep their crimes into the dark. “Knows I not slick. Undercity.”

“Still not trust.” Ruzik switched into Skolian Flag, speaking slowly. “He thinks the royal people aren’t honest. Like Majda.” He squinted at me. “Your Majdas.”

Angel nodded. “Ruzik say right.”

I swore under my breath. “If he still doesn’t trust me, this isn’t going to work.”

“I have guess,” Angel said.

“Guess what?” Ruzik and I asked, almost together.

“Cop slick think you want to ‘plaster’ face. That you make it happen.”

Hell and damnation. “He believes I caused all that to happen, nearly killing those people, just to make myself look good?”

“Is big thing to make happen,” Ruzik told Angel. “Not Bhaaj way.”

“Yah, not Bhaaj way.” Angel nodded to me. “Not Dust Knight way. Not Code. Cop not Dust Knight. Not have Code.”

“Has cop code,” I said.

Both she and Ruzik scowled at me. “Cop code not exist,” Angel said.

“It exist,” I said. “Not all follow, yah, but not all Dust Knights follow Code, either.”

“Not follow Code, get kicked out,” Ruzik said.

“Same for cop.” I’d often worked with Hadar’s predecessor when I lived here. She’d run a clean force. Sometimes they had disciplinary cases, but those were relatively rare, certainly less than with the force that policed the Concourse on Raylicon and targeted my people for nothing more than the crime of being Undercity. Although I didn’t much like Hadar, as far as I could tell, he kept the same standards his predecessor. We didn’t have to like each other to do our jobs.

I spoke thoughtfully. “Chief Hadar doesn’t know our Code. Just like you don’t believe he follows a code, he may see no reason to believe I do. If he thinks I’m grandstanding and doesn’t trust me, he might think I’m the PI equivalent of a dirty cop.”

Ruzik squinted at me. “Eh?”

Angel frowned at me. “Talky jib.”

“Cop slick think I have no code,” I clarified.

Both Angel and Ruzik did me the honor of looking profoundly offended.

“Cop slick fool,” Angel said.

“Not fool.” I wasn’t sure I trusted Hadar, but it had only taken me a few moments when we talked to realize he had a mind as sharp as my mood on a bad day. I switched back into Flag, though I tried to stay closer to the Undercity dialect, using the one-syllable word ledge instead of balcony. “The accident today, when the ledge fell—he might think it’s too much of a coincidence that it happened when we were there. Hell, I feel that way.”

“It wasn’t because we were there,” Ruzik said in Flag. “It fell because you were taking us to the bomb site, to look for clues. The building with the ledge was weak from big blow.”

“Yah. But the city authorities, the city slicks, checked the local buildings. They certified that building as safe. Then it just happened to collapse as we walked by? I don’t believe it.”

“Some slick wants Bhaaj gone,” Angel said. “Made ledge fall look like mistake. Kill Bhaaj.”

“Bhaaj not under ledge when fall,” Ruzik pointed out.

“Yah, but hear.” Angel tapped her ears, then motioned toward my head. “Good ears.”

Could they be right? The crews that verified building safety didn’t have a perfect record; they were wrong about four percent of the time. The balcony collapse looked like an accident, so the city would list it in that four percent. If someone saw me on the ER crew yesterday, they had good reason to expect I’d run toward the balcony if I thought people were in danger. Had they done something to make it collapse when they saw us? It might have worked if Ruzik hadn’t also heard the noise. He’d warned me at the same time Angel warned me about the drone. Those two events distracted me by barely one or two seconds—but it prevented me from moving until an instant after the balcony fell. My combat libraries calculated how I could avoid the worst of it, a process that wouldn’t have worked as well if I’d already been under the balcony. That delay probably kept me from being crushed.

I considered Angel and Ruzik. “Save my life.”

“I save boy,” Ruzik pointed out. “That not save Bhaaj.”

“I not go near ledge thing,” Angel added.

I smiled, and they both understood exactly what that meant, not the easy smile of the above city, but the rare expression of trust among our people. “Yah. But still. Save my life.”

They both nodded. Enough said.

“Max,” I said.

“If you’d like me to estimate the probability that someone planned that accident today in an attempt to injure or kill you, then I calculate a fifty-five to eighty percent chance. They would have needed to monitor your approach to the area. I’ve done a preliminary analysis, and I find no agents that appear to be monitoring you or that could have caused the collapse. That doesn’t mean they weren’t there, only that I haven’t yet discovered them. Although the drone Angel found is a possibility, I doubt it is sophisticated enough for such an operation.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Yah. Keep working on it.” I raked my hand through my hair. “That wasn’t actually my question, though. Earlier today, you told me you got a report from the green beetle. Something about a flash of activity from below the tavern. Later you said its systems got fried.”

“That’s right.” Max sounded irked. “Something is messing with our beetles.”

Our beetles. My EI felt proprietary toward my drones. “Can you fix it?” Thinking of Highcloud, I added, “Were you able to get the backup of Highcloud installed here?”

“Yes, that version of Highcloud is now the house EI. I’m fixing the green beetle. It’s the same as what happened to Blue the night before, minor damage, but all record of its spying is gone.”

Damn. “What about Red? You sent it out with Green, yah?”

“Indeed.”

I waited. “And?”

“I can’t find it.”

“You lost my beetle?”

“I didn’t lose your beetle.” Max simulated offense quite well. “It brought Green home last night. Then it flew off again. I tried to call it back, but I’m having trouble reaching it.” Rather pointedly, he added, “Since then, Bhaaj, I’ve been searching for it nonstop.”

“I’m sorry I implied otherwise.” I shouldn’t let my worry make me treat Max badly. “Let me know as soon as you find it.”

“Will do.”

Angel looked at Ruzik, both of them almost smiling, just the barest hint of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I growled.

“Talk to Max like talk to Jak,” Ruzik informed me.

“What, you think my EI and I act like a married couple?” I switched into the Undercity dialect. “Jib.” To accent my reaction, I added more syllables. “Jib-ber-ish.”

They both laughed. Neither, however, took back the comment.

I thought of Royal Flush, Jak’s EI. “If Max like Jak, then Royal is like Bhaaj?”

“Royal sound like man,” Angel said. “Not like Bhaaj. Why Jak do that?”

“Talk to our humans,” Max said. “They opted to develop us in that manner.”

“I am not ‘your human,’” I growled. He wasn’t just proprietary about the beetles.

“Royal and Jak like brothers,” Ruzik said. “Royal part of Jak.”

I knew what he meant. Jak had named Royal after his legendary poker hand, the only royal flush with no wildcards in the known history of the Undercity, and he did it without cheating. Everyone had watched the game closer than close. They knew how well Jak played the card games that had filtered into the Undercity from Skolian “cultural exchanges” with Earth. Most gambling dens denied Jak entry for counting cards, but sometimes the poker dens let him in—and that night he had become a legend. He’d used his winnings to start his casino. He called it the Black Mark because in poker, the highest rank went to black cards, which gave his royal flush the highest possible rank any hand could ever take. He also liked it because in any Skolian cultural hierarchy, black had the highest color rank. People sought to get a “black mark” on their record, an indication of a noteworthy accomplishment. He also just plain liked the color. He wore black leather clothes, he liked black décor, he had black hair and eyes, and he wore black gauntlets crammed with tech-mech. His EI reflected all that.

That didn’t explain anything about Max, though. “I don’t know why I picked a male identity for you, Max.” I’d never wondered before. It just seemed right.

“I can hazard a guess,” Max said.

I squinted, wary with his word choice. “Hazard” suggested he didn’t think I’d like the answer. Being too rock-headed to change the subject, I said, “Hazard away.”

“It is an unconscious bias on your part, ingrained sexism that you don’t think you possess, because supposedly the Undercity isn’t a sexist culture. A society with that much poverty can’t afford to seclude or otherwise limit the contributions from half its population. The ancient traditions long ago dropped away from your way of life. However, remnants remain. I suspect you associated a male voice with someone who helps and a female voice with authority.”

“Eh?” Angel frowned. “Too talky.”

Ruzik smirked. “Says Bhaaj like Majda. Not in good way.”

“Sexist?” I glared at them. “I most certainly am not.”

Max didn’t answer.

“I’m not,” I repeated. “I’m nothing like the Majdas.” I shuddered at a nerve-racking thought. “Can you imagine if I tried to treat Jak like a Majda man? He’d pulverize me.”

“Yah,” Ruzik said. “Jak make tiny pieces out of Bhaaj.” He seemed immensely entertained by the idea of what Jak would do if I’d tried to put the notorious casino owner into male seclusion.

“I’m not saying it’s something you consciously do,” Max said. “I know you see inequities in Skolian culture and you don’t like it, that you strive to treat everyone with fairness and equality. Nor am I complaining or asking you to act otherwise. However, even the Undercity retains traces of our matriarchal roots. Just think about it, Bhaaj.”

“Pah.” Grudgingly, I added, “All right. I’ll think about it. But Max.”

“Yes?”

“Yesterday you tried to convince me that you were part of my mind. That make you like the Majdas too?”

“Different parts of your mind can respond in different ways.”

“Max even more talky today,” Angel observed.

“Too talky feely,” I grumbled.

“Majda lock up princes.” Angel slanted a look at Ruzik with the hint of a smile.

“Not even think it,” Ruzik told her.

Angel laughed, and kept her thoughts about male seclusion to herself.

“Ruzik leader of Ruzik dust gang,” I told Angel. “Not mess with him.”

“True.” She seemed satisfied with this idea. They stood together, at ease with the talk, at ease with each other.

“Not stay here more,” I said. “Got to jibber with politicians.” I used the Skolian four-syllable word for politicians on purpose. It said all that needed to be said about my next duties.

Angel grimaced. “We listen?”

I shook my head. “Nahya. Go get ale.”

Their interest perked up. Ruzik said, “Yah, good.”

“Not play,” I said. “Go to Greyjan’s place.” They had no biomech anyone there could hack. I switched into the Flag. “Take the blue beetle. Max can use it to show you the way. Also, he’ll help you access your credit accounts so you can buy food. When you reach the tavern, let Blue go.” I didn’t want anyone there messing with the drone again. “Spy on ale place. Find secrets. Tell me.”

Ruzik nodded. “We do.”

“Good.” I grimaced. “I go do jib.”

Time for me to talk with the reps from the five warring political parties that controlled the Skolian Imperialate.


Back | Next
Framed