Memory Deception

by Vanessa Muir

  Charlie opened her mouth, but there were no words.

  “Take the ambassador,” Nathaniel commanded.

  Shouts rang out from the corridor adjacent. The SSG were on Charlie’s trail. Likely, Nathaniel had had the surveillance cameras shut down. Did the agents who weren’t on her father’s side even know he was in the building? Did Shamood?

  The guards on either side of Nathaniel grabbed hold of Grigori and dragged her off. Nathaniel lingered a moment longer but said nothing else. He gave her one last emotionless smile before turning on his heel and walking off.

  Charlie spun around, searching for an exit, but the hallway was flanked by doors. She ran from one to the other, trying them. If she could get into an office, she could blast her way out of a window and repel down the side of the building.

  “Hands up!” The cry came from the end of the hall. Boss Ink had appeared, his weapon out.

  She had the cylinder and nothing else. It wouldn’t work against him.

  “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Spade. Keep your hands up, above your head.”

  She did as she was told.

  12

  The line through to Levi had gone dead the minute Ink had appeared. The communication hub that connected her to Black Mars had been shut down, perhaps even destroyed. It was as it should be, of course.

  Her capture couldn’t risk everything they’d worked toward.

  Charlie sat on the hard metal bench attached to the wall in her prison cell. This time, she wasn’t restrained. There were no men and women in lab coats, waiting to inject her with a serum. She was being detained in the SSG jail.

  The walls of the cell were made of glass, and cameras watched her constantly. Across the space, outside of her “cage” was a desk, where Boss Ink sat, his arms folded and his gaze fixed on her. He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t budged, since they’d placed her in here an hour earlier.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” she asked, raising her chin.

  Charlie could only take so much staring.

  Ink shook his head. “You’re an idiot, Spade. How did you think this would end for you? Breaking into my office, using my gun? And then… taking an ambassador out of a highly classified meeting. You’re lucky to be alive.” The tattooed man looked ready to chew a hole through a wall. She hadn’t seen him smoke one of his cigars in the past hour.

  “You’re an idiot,” Charlie countered. “You think the State cares about you? Who do you think really gives a shit about you? Shamood? Nathaniel? Any of those big dogs? The Councilors? You’re nothing to them and you always will be. You’re just a cog in the wheel. Your freedom and happiness, your family, none of it matters to them.”

  Ink’s jaw worked, he hocked spit onto the floor next to the desk.

  “Truth sucks, doesn’t it?” Charlie called out.

  She itched to be out of the cell and find her father. What would she do? Could she kill him? She shoved that aside. She needed to get out and…

  Boss Ink scraped his chair back and rose. He rounded the desk and approached the glass wall of the cell furthest from her.

  “You want to know the truth, Spade?”

  “Not yours,” Charlie countered, “but I get the feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  “What you want and what I want doesn’t matter. That’s the truth. This whole thing with the State? It’s not your concern, not really. Because we’re all going to die one day. We’ll be dust, and so will the rest of this place. And who’s going to be around then, to care?”

  “Not all of us can afford to be so apathetic.”

  Once again, the working of his beefy jaw, the anger in his gaze.

  “What?” Charlie asked. “You just going to stand there and look at me? I can’t believe I thought you were one of the good ones. For the longest time, I thought this was just about looking after your family.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “That you cared about providing for the ones you loved, and that was why you didn’t try turning to the right side.” Charlie licked her lips. “Guess it’s just simply that you don’t care what happens.”

  Ink’s upper lip peeled back. “I do care about them.”

  “Yeah, well so do I. But the State doesn’t. You’re a number, and so’s everyone you know.”

  “Enough.” Ink pressed his fingers to his forehead and squeezed the wrinkles there together. “You’ve got a call.”

  “What?”

  “You’re allowed one free call.”

  “I’m a political prisoner.”

  “Rules are rules,” Ink said and nodded to the front wall of the cell. A terminal had appeared, the glossy screen blinking for her to make the call. It would be recorded, of course.

  She couldn’t call Levi and ask for help, and they’d taken everything from her.

  Charlie pushed up from the bench and walked over to the terminal. Ink had the courtesy to give her some space, leaving the room entirely and shutting the door, as well.

  She stared at the screen, blinking. She had only one number in her mind, one she had memorized years ago and had never changed, and it was because she had thought it was important at the time. At the time.

  Charlie dragged her finger across the screen, then entered the digits. The call connected. A ringing came from everywhere in the cell. Great, she’d have to experience this in surround sound.

  “Charlotte,” her father said from the speakers overhead, behind her, as well. His face appeared on the screen, but it was a picture rather than live footage. He had never liked video calls. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “They told me I had one call,” Charlie said. “Who better than to spend it on but you, Dad?” The sarcasm curled on her tongue. “Thanks for putting me in here.”

  “Oh, dear child, that was all your own doing. You could have played nice, but you decided to betray me. Over and over again. You clearly don’t value family bonds.”

  “I do,” Charlie said. “Just not ones with you. We were never a family, Nathaniel. I was just something for you to be proud of or disappointed in. Like an extension of your arm.” And it turned her stomach to think of how long she’d wanted to be that for him.

  Yes, Daddy, I can be a good arm. I can do the right things.

  “You were always overdramatic.” Nathaniel sighed.

  “Are you going to get me out of this cell?” She hated having to ask, but Charlie was genuinely intrigued. He talked about bloodlines and family ties, yet he had dumped her the first chance he’d gotten.

  “I don’t see why I would. You’re clearly an asset to Black Mars, and that doesn’t work quite as well with my plans. Ambassador Grigori will be safe with me, and you and your little organization can relax knowing full well that everything is under control. Assuming you all survive Shamood’s rage at having lost his battle with me.” Nathaniel was smug. “Now, I’ve got to run, dear. Keep well.” He hung up. The screen blacked out.

  Charlie glared at it, her fists shaking at her sides. What had she expected out of this? Nothing other than another slap in the face, of course, and that was what she’d gotten.

  The door to the room opened again and Ink entered. “It’s time,” he said.

  “Time for what?”

  Ink shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “The Councilors want to speak with you.”

  13

  Charlie was taken back through SSG HQ, then escorted out into the street. The anger and screams had already spilled back into the area, and she had never felt as vulnerable. Her hands were tied behind her back, in cuffs that cut into her wrists.

  A barricade had been set up to separate the masses of enraged citizens, or Delirious, from accessing the street. They roared and rattled against the fence. They tried climbing it and fell, the snap of breaking bones a chorus. They stumbled up and tried again.

  “Head down,” Ink said and forced her into the back of an armored SSG truck.

  He clambered into the front, then started the engine. The rumble
blocked out the shrieks for a moment, but Charlie peered out of the window and watched as the Delirious fought.

  One man pinned another to the ground behind the barricade, bent down, and bit into the meat of his cheek.

  Another woman had been attacked by three others. They gouged at her eyes, trying to pop them free from her skull.

  Two teenagers tore at each other, leaving bloody tracks across the pavement.

  The truck tore down the street, and Charlie rocked back and forth. She was alone back here. She could potentially use something to free herself, but the SSG thought of everything. They had made it so these trucks were indestructible, and the folks who had to ride in them stood no chance of escape.

  “Where are we going?” Charlie yelled over the thrum of tires on tar.

  Ink didn’t answer.

  They wound through Corden Prime, through military outposts, and finally, into Corden Delta. It had taken hours, but they were in the “safe zone” at last. The Councilors were here? This was the dirtiest place to be for them. But then, they were the ones who had allowed things to get this bad.

  They had been concerned only with their power and hadn’t bothered to keep Absalon and Nathaniel—the heroes of the initial resistance to democracy—in check.

  Finally, the truck stopped. Ink slammed his way out. He rounded the truck and brought her out of it, walked her up to the front of an apartment building, his hand squeezing tight around her upper arm like a third cuff.

  He pressed a series of buttons on the outside of the building. The thick, cracked-glass door clanged open. They took two flights of worn stairs into a dingy hall, then stopped in front of a grime-streaked door. He knocked twice.

  The latch clicked, and one of the Councilors, Herod, if Charlie remembered correctly, smiled out at them. Graying, benevolent in attitude, and tall. He was another one who never bore a smile that reached his eyes. He gestured for them to enter.

  Ink brought Charlie through.

  It was just Councilor Herod in an elegant room that didn’t match the grimy exterior of the building. It was a safe house of sorts, from what Charlie could glean. Once again, wooden chairs had been laid out, desks, as well, and a rich red carpet over the grimy one that had been built into the room.

  Ink exited through a door to the left, leaving Charlie alone with the Councilor.

  He wore floor-length robes and smiled amiably at her. “Charlotte.”

  “Charlie,” she said. “Or Spade. Never Charlotte.” She hated that name.

  “Apologies. Please, come take a seat.” He swept across the room, his robe drifting and dragging over the carpet. He settled himself in a leather armchair and tapped on the arms.

  Charlie didn’t sit. She walked into the room, her hands still cuffed.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  “I asked you to sit, Charlie.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “It’s polite to take a seat when asked,” Herod said in his faux posh accent.

  “I’m cuffed. Fuck polite.”

  Herod exhaled, his eyelids fluttering. “Ink.”

  The door behind Charlie opened, and Boss Ink strode in, carrying the key-chip to the cuffs. He released Charlie, grumbling under his breath, then left again, the door snapping shut.

  “Better, Ms. Spade?”

  Charlie rubbed her wrists briefly. “If that’s what you think.” She didn’t sit, but she did draw closer and brace herself on the back of her armchair. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to sit in that chair and listen.”

  “You should have left me in that cell,” Charlie replied evenly. “Because I’m not going to do what you want. I have no respect for you or the State.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” the Councilor said. “It’s also not my problem. You’re going to do what I want, or you’re going to wind up dead, Ms. Spade.”

  She’d heard versions of this speech all week. She was tired of being passed back and forth. An asset to be used.

  “I will give you your freedom,” Councilor Herod continued, raising a finger, “but it will be under a condition.”

  “Of course.” Charlie folded her arms. “What’s the condition?”

  “That you use your operation to bring down both Nathaniel and Absalon.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” Charlie asked. “This is your job, not mine. You should have managed their behavior from the start. Instead, I’m stuck picking up the slack.”

  “They are out of hand, and all the Councilors have agreed they must be dealt with. We worked too hard as a group, as a State, to build the Memory Machines, to create peace, to have it brought to its knees by two power-hungry idiots.”

  So, they would keep the status quo, then. They would take full control and keep producing the Memory Machines.

  “We’ll allow Black Mars to survive if you help in this,” the Councilor said. “I will send operatives from our council to work with you and Levi Daniels, closely. Would that be adequate in helping you?”

  “I don’t know. Depends what they have to offer.” Was she truly considering this? Did she have another choice? They would kill her if she refused, and Nathaniel had already made off with Councilor Grigori.

  “They know where your father is headed. They have been tracking him.”

  “Then why not bring him down yourself.”

  The Councilor’s lips twitched downward at the corners. At that moment, a realization struck Charlie between the eyes.

  Of course. Of course, they wouldn’t want it to seem like there’d been infighting. Once again, it was far easier to blame this on Black Mars, rather than taking ownership of it themselves. Black Mars would be the scapegoat.

  “This is the only way,” Herod said.

  Her thoughts must have shown in her expression. She didn’t trust him one bit, trust this, but he was right. The choice had been taken from her.

  Charlie sank lower, into darkness. How would they save anything? How would they achieve their freedom, when the Council, the very entity that ran the State, would be cracking the whip at their heels?

  “I’ll do it,” she said at last.

  14

  Charlie crept through the Delta sector, hiding whenever a figure appeared at the end of the street. Ink hadn’t brought her to a safe drop-off point. No one had been waiting to help her reach Black Mars. She was on her own.

  At least, this part of the city wasn’t rife with angry mobs or screaming Delirious, looking to rip the flesh from her bones, potentially eat it too.

  She ducked down an alleyway between buildings, searching for a grate. An entrance to the sewers would eventually lead her to Black Mars.

  Charlie found what she needed and used the cylinder—Ink had given it back to her upon release—to shift the metal lid aside. It clattered, and she froze, glancing around… just in case.

  Would Nathaniel’s men appear? Would the Council’s? Absalon’s? There were too many players in the game now. How long before these council “operatives” came looking for Black Mars to help them find and bring down Nathaniel?

  Charlie slipped into the sewers and dragged the lid back into place over her head.

  Darkness enveloped her, along with the scent of sewerage. She inhaled it, regardless. Strangely, the stench down here was freeing. This was air she could breathe without feeling as if she’d been monitored with every inhale and exhale.

  “Spade.”

  The voice brought a gasp from her. She hated that.

  “Levi?”

  Cool blue light colored the wet concrete beneath her feet. Levi Daniels approached, wearing his black turtleneck top and a serious expression.

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Tracking device,” he said. “The minute your blip moved from Corden Prime to Delta, we knew something was up. Just glad I reached you in time.”

  “In time?”

  “You don’t know.” There was finality to his tone. />
  “Know what?”

  “Ambassador Grigori has been murdered. She was found dead outside SSG HQ shortly after you were moved from there to Delta.”

  Charlie didn’t gasp this time, though it was perhaps more warranted. It made sense that Nathaniel would do this. He would have wanted her to support him, to brainwash her, and if she’d been less than malleable… well, Charlie’s father had never put up with insubordination.

  “Of course,” Charlie said and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “That limits things, but that’s not the end of the world. We’ll have to find the other ambassadors before they leave Corden State.” It was past time she told him about Herod, about his plans and the help of the Council.

  “That’s not everything, Spade.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re being blamed for it.”

  “What?”

  “Absalon Shamood,” Levi said. “He never saw Nathaniel. He didn’t know you were working together. You’ve been blamed for the death of Ambassador Grigori. There’s a price on your head. It’s compromised everything.”

  “No. How? How could it have compromised everything? They don’t know where I am.”

  “You were tagged in the prison, weren’t you?”

  Charlie froze. Of course, they had chipped her. They chipped all prisoners, but chips didn’t contain tracking devices, not unless the criminal had been convicted and incarcerated. Sentenced, even. She opened her mouth to say as much.

  “They will have activated it,” Levi said.

  Her argument disappeared. “What do I do? I’m not near the hub. I can still get it out, right?”

  “Yes. We can get it out, but it might already be too late.”

  Charlie chewed on her bottom lip. She lifted her arm and pressed it outward. “Get it out,” she said. “Please, Levi. I don’t want to be the reason Black Mars is destroyed.”

  “It’s not your fault. This has been beyond all of us for a while, now. We’ve tried, but there are too many factors. What did they want with you?” Levi spoke as he loosed a knife from his belt. He was calm as he drew her arm closer, pressing with this thumb in search of the chip.