“Hey,” Ray said when he saw Steven’s face flash on the phone display screen.
“Do you seriously have an exclusive about the attack?”
He nodded to the screen. “That and more, I saw the whole thing unfold.”
Steven’s jaw dropped like a teenage boy after experiencing his first adult psytrip. “Holy fucking shit you just renewed yourself.” Steven’s roaring laughter made the phone he carried on his end shake. It looked like Steven had been caught in an earthquake. When the laugh stopped, Steven’s face returned to the screen, his smile was bright and wide. “Ray! Give us everything you fucking got on it!”
“What about the expo—”
“Fuck the expo! I want this exclusive!”
“Wow.” Ray scratched the back of his head. “Didn’t know you were okay with real journalism.”
“I’m okay with whatever the fuck will pay the fucking bills. And your exclusive scoop, my friend, is going to pay a lot of them, so long as you don’t shit all over our sponsors. You won’t do that right?”
He reflected back to the attack and thought back to the dreams and visions. He saw too many fingers pointed at the Federation. “I think the Federation might have been involved.”
“Those commies aren’t paying us, so fuck ‘em. Tell the world what you saw.”
Fake news when it makes money, real news when it could make even more money. Publications were no better than corporations; the almighty Alliance dollar governed how they operate. If people wanted news stories about funny unicorns seen during an acid trip, and it paid the Alliance Star well, they’d run that too.
Ray was a journalist born in the wrong year.
“I’ll get you your story,” he said, to Steven’s delighted face. “Hey off-topic, did my girlfriend Arianna contact you recently by chance?”
“No, is she supposed to?”
“She’s … missing sir.”
“Sorry to hear that bud.”
Yeah, bull-fucking-shit.
“Please, don’t go all sour on me because of that. Need you to focus.”
Steven didn’t care.
“She was also at the airport when the attack happened,” Ray added.
“Oh, really?”
“That’s why I’m worried; she might be involved in it.”
“Shit man that sucks, like, really it does. If you’re cool with it though, try to say something about her too. Readers are going to dig the emotional side to the report.”
Now Steven cared, but only because he saw it as another means to squeeze the story for more money. The call ended, and Ray went to gaze out the window, looking at the same New York skyline shining its glow of neon up into the white dust from the skies. He was looking to collect his thoughts, hoping the article he planned to write might shed light on Arianna’s disappearance, and maybe her change of attitude.
Instead, reality melted away and the dreamlike world of Arianna’s journey overseas replayed. None of it showed like she was abroad on business, hell; none of it looked like she worked for Yoshida at all. He saw Arianna get chased throughout the Federation by IWs. He watched her do the same to them, then saw their mangled and twisted blood-soaked bodies fall to the floor. Arianna was the sole survivor of whatever battle she found herself in.
It felt like Arianna had stolen something, and she was killing to prevent it from returning to the owner.
There was more going on, and the visions were more than just weird dreams. Someone with telepathic powers forced them in his head, which made what he had seen in them a fact. It was going to be hard to compose a news article based on the visions. Why? Because he couldn’t prove it without hard evidence or real sources. It was just him and a claim that a telepath put the visions in his mind.
He sat at his hotel room desk and began outlining what he was going to draft. And what he outlined was only what he saw personally from the airport attack. As for the strange visions? He made plans to post that on his blog. But first he had to make sense of it, and he needed someone with telepathic powers to do that.
When he was finished writing the article, Ray brought up a search on his pad, looking for the nearest Pause, Play, Rewind center in New York’s IW district. A memory sphere from a psytrip experience was the only thing he could think of that would extract the facts from the weird visions making a mess of his head. He placed a reminder on his phone to visit them the next day.
The rest of the night was spent staring out the window, as the snow continued to fall. He hoped that if Arianna was out there, lost, that she was making her way back to him.
Together, they could find a solution.
Twenty-One
Estrella
Goodbye Buenos Aires …
Thoughts like that repeated in Estrella’s head. They didn’t stop, not even during the debriefing she had with Timothy Peters. She hadn’t been with the LAPD for a full week, and she was getting her second grilling for a botched job. Peters had little reason to send positive commendations of her work to Yoshida, and she knew it. She could tell by his eyes and various optical scans of his face, all of them showing displeasure when he looked at her, sitting across from his desk.
Piper stood at Estrella’s side with arms folded over her elegant black lace top. The two RWs took turns explaining their part of the story, and how Marcus ended up with Estrella’s bullets through his head. Turns out the pistol Nobuo held during the confrontation was hers. There was no way to sugarcoat what happened to him. Further proof she was stuck in LA for good or going to be sent off for recycling.
Goodbye Buenos Aires …
Peters adjusted his glasses, pushing two of his fingers up against its central rim. “Sounds to me, like you brought your problems from Buenos Aires into our city, Estrella.”
“I’m telling you, we killed them all back home,” Estrella said. “The Bald Skulls, we fucked that whole gang over.”
“Yet, they’re here, alive and well, and now we have this new fuckwit turning my city into a warzone looking for them.”
Piper made a face at the words warzone. “How bad was it?”
Estrella thought back to the original call. It wasn’t just the Kounias residence that was attacked by IWs, but two other locations in the city, simultaneously, all of them with IWs a lot stronger than your usual rowdy ones.
Peters laid out the bad news. “IWs hit three targets, the Kounias residence as you know, an armory used by the SWAT, and some apartment complex downtown. They left six officers, and eight RW dead, and five more fighting for their lives.”
Piper’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”
“Oh, there’s more,” he added. “We lost a gunship.”
Her eyes still widened. “They blew up a gunship?”
“No, it’s just gone. Not stolen, or destroyed, simply vanished in thin air.”
Estrella grimaced. “Civvies?”
More bad news, courtesy of Peters. “Eleven dead, including five children,” he revealed. “That’s a lot of lives thrown away by this IW, Nobuo, looking for the Bald Skulls if your report is right Estrella.”
She shook her head and then joined Piper in the arms crossed game. “I don’t know what the fuck to tell you.”
“And I don’t know what to tell Marcus’ soon to be grieving family, why his RW partner double-tapped him.”
Estrella shooting her gun off at imaginary gang members her mind told her were there, when lost in the illusion Nobuo made, wasn’t helping her image. While none of those shots hit Marcus, anyone could argue that they did. Only she and Nobuo knew who shot Marcus dead, and she doubted he’d come forward and take credit.
“That wasn’t my doing,” was all she could say.
Peters reached for his, probably now cold, coffee on his desk. “I know. You and your medical scans prove it, a telepath got in your head. Still, your bullets are in his body, and the IW attacks in the city are a result of a new threat looking for the gang that followed you here. People are going to question if Yoshida giving you a second chance at life was the cor
rect move.”
“If I may, sir.” Piper stepped forward with a brisk wave of her hand like she was painting an image on thin air. A holographic screen appeared, and its light helped brighten the slightly dark office. Piper directed their attention to the screen’s contents. “Estrella’s right about the gang. According to this, several gang members died in the hospital after an RW raid in Buenos Aires.”
Estrella eyed the report written in Spanish, grinning at the photos of the dead Bald Skulls members. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about the fact she officially killed some of those members twice now.
Regardless, Piper’s reveal was promising news. She liked her a bit more. “You see? I’m not fucking making this up.”
Peters gleamed at the report, lines of words moved across the lenses of his glasses, automatically translating Spanish to English in the hologram for him. He sat back in his chair when done, folding his hands together. “How does a gang come back to life and then make their way to Los Angeles right as Rodriguez does?”
A question Estrella had been asking since her first day in the city. She was glad to see others were finally as well. “I’d like to know why Nobuo went on a mission to find the Bald Skulls only to end up attacking the Kounias, murdering Maria Kounias, then struggling to get her husband Norris. Did we locate his body?”
“I don’t think there’s a body to be found,” Piper said with a shake of her head. “One of the rear bedroom windows was smashed, he must have escaped.”
That got Estrella facing Piper. Marcus and Estrella where the first to the scene, and she knew it. If he was alive, he’d confirm it too. There were no other vehicles parked near the house and no other signs that Piper entered before them.
Piper showed up when Nobuo got into Estrella’s mind. Yet Piper spoke as if she had been there, conducting a lengthy search. She’d say something on that, but what was the point? Piper’s official report stated she arrived before them and they missed each other. Piper also left Marcus and Estrella behind at the bar, meaning she had a head start.
Still doesn’t explain how she got there before us without a vehicle.
Peters looked up at Estrella, her face still lost in thought. “Rodriguez, you said Ray Partington from the Alliance Star was dating the daughter of Norris and Maria Kounias correct?”
Estrella nodded quickly. “That’s right, and he was their last visitor before the attacks.”
“I think we should pay him a visit,” Piper added. “Arianna too, she’ll want to know what happened to her family.”
Peters concurred, and then grimly added. “Assuming nobody got to them already.”
Estrella stepped forward. They made no mention of her getting the defective stamp on her head. She was still part of the team. This was her chance to make things right and get that commendation. “I’ll get on it,” she said with brimming confidence.
“No,” Peters shot her down hard and fast. “I need you to take it easy—”
“Oh, come on!”
“If these gangsters are here in the city for you, then you need to stay low. If they’re sighted, this new IW group Nobuo is working with will make their move and we’ll require more body bags to clean up the mess.”
“Both you and I know the Bald Skulls have their own plans,” Estrella asserted. “Remember? The kidnappings?”
“Kidnappings you conveniently were near, Estrella,” he said. “They’re probably trying to bait you to come after them.”
By targeting unregistered IWs? No, that’s no coincidence. “What about the other two attacks? I wasn’t near them!”
“Still a mystery we’re investigating,” Peters replied. “For all we know, the gang was in the area, and this new IW group found out.”
She’d argue her point more, but the words that came out of Piper’s mouth next sealed the deal. “I’ll handle this sir,” Piper offered. “I know Ray personally anyway.”
Peters nodded. “Do it. Rodriguez, sit this one out for the time being. Let’s see what happens.”
“Need a lift again?”
Estrella snapped out of her ominous gaze into the city outside. She was sitting on the front steps leading into the police station. Originally, she sat to collect her thoughts, calm her nerves, and recover mentally from what transpired during the evening. Instead, her mind had wandered off, daydreaming, and fantasizing about Yumi, and a funeral that may or may not happen thanks to Yoshida claiming ownership over a part of Yumi’s body. Estrella’s family wasn’t far from her thoughts too, and she’d never be able to see them unless they showed up for a visit. RWs don’t get vacations. Yoshida still viewed her as a product rather than a person.
She had no means of getting home, other than calling for a taxi or using a train. That was the second reason she came to sit at the steps. Estrella had a lot to think about. She imagined dream Yumi sitting beside her in those cute tight shorts she’d wear, telling Estrella things would work out because Estrella’s a great person. Dream Yumi put her hand on Estrella’s shoulder.
“Estrella?”
She looked behind and saw Piper. Her synthetic hand came to rest on Estrella’s shoulder in a comforting manner. It felt nice. It made her smile. Dream Yumi faded when Estrella realized who had been really touching her.
“Yeah, didn’t get my wheels yet.”
Piper returned the smile, twirling her keys with her other hand. “Come along then!”
She was in Piper’s sports car again, strapping herself in as her rival RW powered the car on. The same car Estrella was positive wasn’t anywhere near the Kounias residence, contrary to what Piper told everyone.
The same nighttime neon sights graced Estrella’s vision, reminiscent of the last drive home Piper offered. She briefly wondered if Piper would come up with another life or death reason to enter her unit. There was more to the pixie kiwi woman than she was letting others know, including the LAPD.
“Talk to me, new girl.”
Estrella faced Piper and was instantly charmed by her Mona Lisa-like smile. She felt obligated to speak. “Meh, wasn’t expecting my debut in the city to be so fucking stupid.”
“Well, you’re almost home and got a few days off by the sounds of it.”
“Yeah …”
“Unpack your stuff. It’s making a mess of your place.”
An eyebrow raised on Estrella’s face. “What makes you think I haven’t done that already?”
Estrella hadn’t finished unpacking but had more than enough time to do so. Reading up on Piper was an excellent distraction that night. How did Piper know she didn’t finish unpacking? Or that her place was a mess with her belongings scattered.
“Just a guess is all,” Piper said, her synthetic eyes returning to the road ahead. “When you get to my age, you learn to read young people like you.”
“You’re thirty-five, you’re not that old.”
“Been reading up on me, have we?”
Estrella pursed her lips, and she felt her face flush. It made Piper smile again when she took notice. “Take the downtime to hang out with whoever you came here with, Estrella, and start again.”
“I came alone.”
“Oh, that’s right, sorry I forgot.” An awkward silence fell. “So … you alone, huh? No friends or anything like that?”
“Everyone I knew is back in Buenos Aires.” And the only friend I had is dead …
“Holy shit.”
Piper set the car to manual control, took the wheel, and made a sudden turn with it as it drove amongst the cars on the freeway. It slipped under an overpass, driving away from the signs guiding those to district 666. The path to Estrella’s home was drifting away rather than closer.
She twisted her lips, watching the unfamiliar portion of the freeway move past. “Going the wrong way, Piper.”
“No, we’re going the right way,” she replied. “You need some friends. Fuck, I think you need some pick-me-up food.”
“I can order drone food like everyone else.”
“Fuc
k that. What you need, is some ice cream.”
“Yeah, can get that too, you know.”
“But you prefer the real shit, no?”
“The real shit isn’t all that real.”
“Then you’re going to love this place, I guarantee it, sweetie. It’s expensive but worth it. I’ll buy; it will be my treat, okay?”
Twenty-Two
Ray
Ray didn’t need to wake up when his hotel alarm told him to, blaring its screeching sounds. His eyes had been open, lying on his bed, and staring at the ceiling. The same ceiling he’d been looking at for the last eight hours. Or was it twelve? He lost the willpower to keep count.
If life hadn’t been so fucking brutal this past two days, then he and Arianna would have been officially engaged by now. The two would be on a flight to LA, dreaming up plans for the big wedding day. Now, Ray spent his time writing an article on the JFK airport attack, which could have potentially ripped Arianna out from his world for good. At least the hotel was kind enough to extend his stay until the airport reopened.
With JFK being down, no flights had entered or left the city since the attack. The only way out or into other local airports was on the ground and police and AIT had been conducting vigorous searches of all vehicles and trains since the incident, none of them reporting Arianna’s presence. It gave him hope he’d reconnect with Arianna. She was alive, his journalist mind told him so, and there wasn’t enough evidence to suggest otherwise. She was in the city, somewhere, hiding from the IWs. Why else would her name not be on the flight? She knew someone from the EU was following her. She was trying to throw them off, and it backfired. He really hoped it wasn’t because of him.
None of the cameras in the airport could get a glimpse of what happened to her or him when he blacked out. The IWs that had been pausing and unpausing recording did it to the area he found Arianna. His visions were the only proof that Arianna or at least a woman looking like her arrived in New York. The visions were also a mess of weird stuff he couldn’t shake off. Like the feeling of becoming Arianna, complete with all the heightened sense of awareness, like she was doing things she shouldn’t be doing, against her will.
Cyber Witch Page 17