I took each of the pictures and fed them into my system to see if I could match it to some known image. A scan of the net came up blank, but all I had access to were public files, and a competent amateur could scrub herself from those with a little bit of effort. People did it all the time as a routine measure to ensure privacy. To dig deeper, I’d need access to a better system. Something like what the police had, or the military. I filed that away. I didn’t think walking into the police station with random pictures would get me very far. I didn’t rule it out for the future, though. If they solved the murder and no longer viewed me as a suspect, maybe they’d be in a conciliatory mood. Then again, they might ask where I got the pictures, and I didn’t want to admit I had an illegal drone flying over the city to watch my six.
I headed to the roof to retrieve the drone once more and check out the surveillance footage to see if I could spot somebody around my apartment. I got up one flight before the sound of footsteps a few floors below me brought me up short. When I concentrated, I thought I could make out three sets, definitely coming up. My heart started pounding. Nobody walked up the stairs in our building except me. They took the elevator. They definitely didn’t walk it in groups of three. I dashed down the steps, hurrying toward my apartment. I got through my security check as the footsteps reached the floor below me. I bolted inside, slammed the door, and rushed to my desk to get my pistol.
Standing there with my weapon in my hand, I felt stupid. I couldn’t shoot through the door, they couldn’t get in, and there wasn’t a chance in the Mother’s Galaxy that I was going out there. Yet I didn’t put it down. I stood there, straining to hear something through the thick security door. When the buzzer rang, I almost leaped out of my pants. After a second I calmed down enough to remember my camera system, and activated it.
The woman from the drone surveillance stared at me from the screen, and though I could see her and she couldn’t see me, I flinched a little. She had people with her, but I didn’t see them in any detail. I couldn’t get past the woman’s pupils. Ovals.
I froze, my hand halfway to the button that keyed the intercom. I wanted to talk to her, ask her why they were here, why they’d been following me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t make myself move.
The buzzer rang again, then again. I don’t know how many times. I don’t know how long I stood there. Eventually they left.
Despite my complete breakdown, two positives came from the Cappan hybrid visiting. One, I knew now that I hadn’t imagined it. They were real. Second, in addition to the drone photos, I had a good picture from my security system. The two people the woman had with her had positioned themselves in a way that my system didn’t pick them up—I’d have to fix that—but I had her image clearly.
I hid out the next day in my apartment, afraid they’d be waiting for me outside, but the day after that I had to go to work, so I scanned the hall with my security system, made my way to the roof and launched my drone for a quick scan of the area. I didn’t pick up any sign of the woman, and I couldn’t discern anyone else watching my place, so I headed out quickly. Still, I constantly looked behind me as I walked and scanned the transport as I entered. The same eyes looked back that watched me every day—some that showed awe, some that showed hate. No ovals. When I arrived at VPC, I headed down to IT and found Ganos talking to a bunch of sweatshirt-wearing programmers. At my approach, they scattered like mice do when the lights come on in the kitchen.
“Sorry to break up your group.”
Ganos laughed. “They’re not used to suits showing up at random. Seriously, it never happens.”
I handed her the picture of my visitor. “How hard is it to run a picture and identify someone? I tried the standard public searches and didn’t get anything. I have reason to believe that the person might be trying to hide herself.”
She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “Is this hush-hush?”
“No, this is on the record. Company sanctioned. She has something to do with the investigation I’m doing. Nothing illegal, but I’d be happy if we could tap into a better source of information than what’s available to me.” It wasn’t a total lie. The woman could be related to my case. I felt justified putting company assets behind it.
“Sure thing, sir. I’ll keep it totally legal.”
“Thanks,” I said.
She smirked. “As far as you know.”
I snort-laughed, which made her laugh as well. “I trust your judgment.”
“Probably not your best decision, but I do appreciate it. I’ll get back to you tomorrow with this. I want to work on it from home.”
Chapter Thirteen
True to her word, Ganos was waiting for me in my office the next morning, her feet up on my desk. “Must be nice to be an executive and make your own hours,” she said.
I laughed. “It’s not bad, I’ll tell you that.”
She swung her feet down. “I ran that picture you gave me. You’re not going to believe this, sir.”
“I don’t know. I’d believe a lot right now.”
“So this woman, she doesn’t exist, right? Not anywhere a normal person should exist. No social media, no basic licenses, no pictures in the open net anywhere. Not too out of the ordinary, but definitely somebody who made an effort to stay hidden.”
“So how’d you find something?”
“Let’s not ask questions you really don’t want the answers to, sir.”
“Got it.”
“On a developed planet like Talca, it’s pretty much impossible to get down from space without going through security. So I took a shot that maybe she wasn’t born and raised on planet, and got a hit through Immigration.”
“You have access to Immigration?”
“Remember when we said we weren’t going to ask those kinds of questions, sir? Anyway, she came to Talca about nine months ago.” Ganos held out a sheet of paper that had a cheap-looking immigration photo, along with a name, Jane Cantella, and an on-planet address that was probably fake.
“This is great work,” I said, my mind already whirling. If she’d come to the planet nine months ago, why then? And why had I become aware of her only recently? Any number of answers fit, and I’d need to sort through them.
“There’s more,” said Ganos. “I figured if she came to the planet, she came from somewhere. So I played a hunch. Something about the picture gave me a military vibe, and nobody keeps better records than the army.”
“So you hacked into a military database.”
“Sir . . . please. That would be illegal. Anyway, she’s ex-military. Started out as infantry, then later she transferred to—”
“Special Ops,” I said, interrupting her.
“That’s right, sir. How’d you know?”
“Remember that thing we had about not asking questions? Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“You got it, sir. She was Special Ops, so I couldn’t dig up too much on her record. They keep that stuff tight, and there are places on the net that even I’m not dumb enough to dig into. I did find one thing, though. The reason she left service.”
I had a guess, but I decided not to share it. “What was it?”
“MIA, sir. Missing in action. How does that happen? When you’re MIA, that’s like military code for being dead, but nobody can find your body to prove it.”
“Pretty much,” I said.
“What kind of shit are you involved with, sir?”
“The same kind I always seem to be in.” I shook my head. “Honestly, I really don’t know. It keeps getting stranger and stranger.”
“I know it’s got something to do with Omicron. I want in,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Get me inside their system, sir. Let me poke around.”
“I’m not sure how I’d do that.”
“Figure it out.”
“I miss when you were just my subordinate.”
“No, you don’t.”
No, I didn’t.
Sit
ting around my apartment after work, I tried not to think about it. But I might as well have tried to sprout wings and fly. I drank some, and I got madder, so I drank some more. Somewhere in that process, I decided I’d had enough hiding. I was going after the Cappan hybrids who had been watching me. At least that would be something. Wisely, I decided to wait until I sobered up. The light of morning might show me how ridiculous my nighttime idea had been.
If anything, I woke up madder. That never happens. I’d actually slept, though I had ridiculous dreams, all of which featured somebody chasing me in different environments, most of which jerked me out of sleep for a moment. But all things considered, I still felt rested. I grabbed a quick shower, checked the weather and news, and grabbed my pistol and tucked it into the oversized pocket of my jacket. The weight of it pulled uncomfortably, but it would have to do. I considered doing a quick search with the drone, but that might have led to indecision. The sun had started to lighten the sky and the streets hadn’t filled yet, so if somebody was out there, I’d likely see them. Besides, I wanted a confrontation, and if I found somebody watching my place, I’d get it.
I reached the ground floor and the small, empty lobby of my building where the smell of some sort of cleaner assaulted my nose. I looked through the window, and when I didn’t see anybody, I pushed the button to open the door. I turned left and had got fifteen or twenty meters when I sensed somebody watching me. A woman stood on the other side of the street, half hidden by a shadow, which was probably why I hadn’t seen her from the door. I turned and walked across the street toward her, increasing my pace, but not running.
I’d almost reached her side of the street when she bolted.
Without thinking, I ran after her, my pistol bouncing painfully against my hip bone. She called out something I couldn’t understand, either into a communication device or to someone nearby. That wasn’t good. If she had backup, my odds got a lot worse.
She pulled away from me and turned down a side street. If she really was a Cappan hybrid, I didn’t have much chance of catching her, but I kept up the pursuit anyway. I took the corner fast, almost losing my balance, then caught sight of her, almost to the next corner already. I slowed to a fast jog to conserve my breath, but kept following. Maybe she’d make a mistake, and I’d get lucky. I made two more turns, each time barely keeping sight of her, and we worked our way down narrow side streets and alleys. I passed a spectator or two, but they barely glanced my way, intent on wherever their early-morning travels took them.
About thirty meters from the next corner, the woman from outside my door stepped out in front of me. I almost tripped trying to stop. As I regained my balance, a golden-skinned man wearing a dark, lightweight jacket joined her.
“Colonel Butler,” said the woman. “We don’t mean you any harm. We just want to talk to you.”
Well, shit. That changed quickly. They didn’t have weapons out, but then again, neither did I. I resisted patting my pistol. No need to give them any extra information. “Why’d you run away then?”
“You chased me,” she said.
“You know what I’m talking about. You were outside my apartment. Why have you been following me?”
She raised her hands slightly, in what might have been intended as a placating gesture. “Like I said, we want to talk to you.”
I didn’t feel placated. I casually slipped my hand into the pocket with the pistol. “Not buying it. You could have approached me at any time. You didn’t.”
“We came to your apartment but you didn’t answer the door.” She took a step forward, though we were still fifteen meters apart. “Now here we are.”
“Now that I chased you down.” I pulled the pistol from my pocket. I didn’t level it at them, but I didn’t point it away from them, either. If it made them nervous, they didn’t show it.
The woman took two more steps, slowly, hands partially raised, leaving her partner behind. “Hear us out and we’ll leave you alone. We need your help.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m—”
A gunshot cracked, cutting her off. Projectile, not pulse. The sound echoed off the sides of the buildings, and it took me a second to realize the shot came from behind me. As I turned to find the shooter, shots erupted from the hybrids—now behind me—as well. I dove for cover without thinking, my body reacting by instinct. I scanned for the people who started the shooting, but from my position down low, pinned up against a building, I couldn’t find them. From the angle of the fire I calculated that they had a higher position, potentially shooting from a building window or a fire escape. It gave them a serious advantage in the narrow alley. After another second I marked two different origins, one on either side of the street. Instinctively I identified the weapons from their sounds. Pistols, not rifles. Thank the Mother for small blessings.
I pushed myself up off the ground, looking to get off a shot. Something punched me in the leg, hard, slamming me back down, bruising my knees and scraping me through my pants. My pistol clattered away and I went after it until a bullet smacked the pavement in front of me, kicking up sparks. I whipped my head first to one side, then the other, where I caught a glimpse of the hybrid woman as she retreated around the corner, moving inhumanly fast.
I tried to rise again and collapsed. My leg burned and ached at the same time, just above the knee. I reached down and my hand came away sticky and wet.
Shit.
I didn’t know who shot me, or if they’d done it intentionally, but it didn’t matter. Shots continued from both directions as I huddled in a heap, starting to shiver. My original pursuers fired back at whoever had ambushed us, but the initial attackers returned twice as much. After a few seconds, all the gunfire tailed off, like the last kernels of popcorn in a heater bag. I scanned the upper stories for the ambush team, but my vision blurred. I assumed that while they’d ceased firing, they still had me under observation. I didn’t know if that helped or hurt. They’d fired at the Cappan hybrids, but that might not make them friends to me. They definitely weren’t friends of my leg.
It throbbed, now, and I pressed my hand against the wound to try to slow the bleeding. It poured through my fingers anyway. Arterial blood. The shooters didn’t matter. I was going to bleed out in the street.
I fumbled with my shirt, trying to get it off because I needed to make a tourniquet. My fingers tripped over the buttons, my hands not working right. I tried again, somehow sensing it meant life or death, even through the growing fog in my brain. A siren blared in the distance, getting closer, though it almost sounded like it was underwater. Something whirred in the air overhead. Police drone, I thought, though I don’t know why that perception came through when other reasoning had stopped.
It didn’t matter.
I passed out.
Chapter Fourteen
I came dead awake and tried to sit, squinting in the bright light. My head spun, and dropped back down onto a white pillow. A hospital bed. I had no feeling in my right leg whatsoever. My vision narrowed and the edges went dark. My stomach lurched. I reached down, dreading that the leg wouldn’t be there. I let out a breath when my hand found my thigh, though I couldn’t feel the pressure of my own touch.
“You’re awake,” said a nurse. I don’t know if he entered or he’d already been in the room. “Good. The blood replacement has taken.”
“I can’t feel—”
“You’ve got a nerve block in your leg, that’s why you can’t feel it.”
My eyes focused quickly and my thoughts came clearly, which probably meant they hadn’t drugged me much. I took that as a good sign that the leg injury might be my only damage. With the nerve block, I didn’t need painkillers, at least until it wore off. “Is it going to be okay?”
“Good as new,” said the nurse. “Bullet hit your artery, but we gave you a new one. The doctor says you should recover fully in a day or two, once she gets the advanced growth cells in place, which should happen soon.”
“Great.” I slumpe
d back a bit into the pillow.
“There are some people who want to speak to you.”
My heart slammed into my rib cage. I glanced around the room, looking for my weapon, which I didn’t find. They’d followed me to the hospital. Of course they had. “I need to get out of here.”
The nurse looked at me, his face scrunched in confusion. Before he could talk, two people entered. Mallory and Burke. The police.
“Colonel Butler. We meet again, and again it’s under unusual circumstances,” said Mallory. Burke motioned the nurse out of the room, and the man complied, making himself small to slide around them.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said.
“You got shot. Almost died,” she said.
“That’s not a crime.”
“Didn’t say it was.” Mallory pulled up a rolling stool and sat on it so our eyes were at the same level. “Have to say, though, you’ve been in some odd situations recently.”
“Lunch isn’t an odd situation.”
“It is when that guy ends up dead trying to meet you the next day.”
She was trying to goad me on purpose. I said a silent thanks for the lack of drugs in my system. I needed to focus, find out how much they already knew. It wouldn’t do to lie and get caught, but I also didn’t want to give anything away that I didn’t have to.
“We’ve got your illegal weapon,” said Burke.
“That’s not mine,” I said.
“It has your prints on it,” he said.
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