He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not here, and I have a problem.”
The remains of her sleepiness washed away, and she sat up. “Problem? What problem?” She glanced at her phone. “It’s after four. What the hell is going on?” She adjusted the sheet to cover her chest which was hardly necessary. She wasn’t naked. More’s the pity. Stupidly, during one of their shopping trips, he’d bought her a flowery yellow set of pajamas to match her cabin.
His words sunk into her weary-brain, and she stiffened. Eyes narrowed, and her angry incarnation took over. She spoke through a clamped jaw. “What do you mean you aren’t here?”
Sighing, he explained what happened and his current situation. It didn’t take long. Only a blip in time. Far shorter than the long history of Shabin Industries, which now headed toward disaster. Maybe that was an exaggeration. It would take a few blips of time to deconstruct his DNA. Several more to do anything with the information. Even that assumed they were not only successful but also hellbent on attacking his father’s company when they were done. For all Jason knew, they could recreate the experiment and do something unrelated to the company in a far-off corner of the universe.
“Yes, Father.” He could see himself in the Grand Imperial office penitently explaining it. “I’ve tossed away the secret family recipe, but don’t worry, they won’t be opening a restaurant near us.”
Sparrow snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he refocused on her. “Hmm?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Well, no, just uncomfortable, and I really need to pee.”
“You’re breathing alright over there?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Nose is free and clear.” He was still able to feel the gag in his mouth at the same time as it wasn’t inside the Mirre. Bonds gouged into him as he gestured around. It was always a bizarre doubling feel inside this world.
She pursed her lips. “Is there something you think I can do for you?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know. I was sort of hoping you’d come up with something.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, muttering something that sounded like a particularly harsh epithet. “I can’t believe you broke your promise.”
“Look. I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” He held up his hands placatingly. “I told you right away. No tricks.”
“You don’t get it.” She grabbed one his hands and held it to her breast. “You feel that?” He could. It felt wonderful in fact, but he suspected she referred to the heart beneath.
“Yes.”
“That’s me.” Her expression grew dark. “Not Sparrow, but a newly created fake Sparrow. I feel. I think. I have all her memories, and they aren’t real.” Her grip on his wrist began to crush him.
He pulled his hand away and could only blink at her.
The bite to her lip was hard enough this time to leave a mark after she stopped. “You still don’t understand. You casually invent me. A manufactured copy of a real person in a real world.” She pointed toward the door. “What happens if I get up right now and walk out that door?”
“Well, as long as I’m focused on you, I suppose you’ll keep going.” But he understood the implication.
Her nostrils flared with fury, and her entire face tensed. “And when you stop?” The slap to his face was unexpected and left a sting far greater than the physical act. He was left stunned and holding a palm over the mark. She shoved him off the bed and began screaming. “Asshole! This me, right here, right now, feels alive. When you stop, I… will… die!” She jumped out of bed and paced around the room. “You have the nerve to call your father arrogant. To… to… say he doesn’t care about people. You’re an immature little child. It’s bad enough that you create simulacrums of people, but then you go and tell me I’m not real. That I don’t matter?”
He’d never said she didn’t matter, but sitting on the floor, he was too dumbfounded to respond.
She kicked him on her next pass around the room. “The only thing worse than knowing my whole life will last no more than a few minutes is also knowing you’re going to go back to that other me. The real Sparrow.” Tears flowed, and she choked them back a few times. “And she’s going to still think you’re a nice guy who needs help. Someone who doesn’t break their promises.” By the end, her words were barely understandable.
He couldn’t take it anymore and telling her would only increase her anxiety. He left the Mirre, thinking of that wonderful person dissolving out of existence like he’d done to so many others. He tried consoling himself with the fact that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the creation had no idea they weren’t real. His father almost always picked up enough hints to know and never seemed to care. Martin usually knew and never said anything.
What was Jason 2.0 like inside his father’s Mirre? Had he been terrified of the impending dissolution each time? He wasn’t sure he could pose the question to the High Priest of Mechanical Weirdness. If he hadn’t been squeamish about it before, he would the next time it happened. A shiver ran over his body.
Why didn’t he keep his promise? He was such an asshole. Even the big evil dude in all of this had enough honor to keep to whatever agreement he’d made. Jason had been sure enough money would’ve changed the mind of that sort of person.
Flopped on his side, anchored to the chair, needing to pee more than ever, her tears and anguish still in his heart, he finally went to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Still regretting the previous night, he looked directly at Sparrow’s forehead as he spoke, unable to meet her eyes. “I need to track them down.”
She wore a forlorn expression as if the parting was actually a disappointment. Considering how this journey began, this seemed a vast improvement.
“I know. Will you be alright?” Her gaze wandered over the deep scrapes and bruising the bonds had left on his wrists.
He’d woken early, stiff, sore, and fortunately still dry. Unfortunately, the maid didn’t find him until the afternoon, and by then it was far too late for modesty. Thank God the planet still had humans cleaning up the rooms instead of robots. A machine would’ve vacuumed around him, placing a piece of candy on his forehead on its way out the door.
Humiliated, damp, smelling like his wistel’s litter box, a distraught Sparrow came a few minutes later. She’d been mildly puzzled about where he’d gotten to but hadn’t thought to break down the door. She assumed he’d run off to buy something at the last minute.
Dignity, that’s what he needed to purchase. Well, he was done. Finished. No more reacting from the three steps behind. No more avoiding responsibility. It was time to step up and do. To act. He was fourth generation to a family that went out and made things happen. He’d get to the bottom of this mess.
“I’ll be fine. I need to make some changes to this stupid adventure. I’ve already found out which cruise ship he’s getting on. You sure you won’t go with me? The company can find another pilot.”
With expected solemnity, she shook her head. “Can’t. Obligations. You sure you want to do this? You can stay with us.”
“Can’t.” He shrugged. “Obligations.”
He came close to telling her about his indiscretion the previous night but couldn’t do it. Catching her eyes, he didn’t want to see the tears. The way her view of him would change in an instant. However, there was one small detail he could own up to doing. He caught himself biting his lip before he spoke. The damned habit was contagious. “Umm. I have to tell you something.”
She reached up and covered his mouth. “You better not make some grand romantic gesture. This isn’t the time, and I don’t think I could deal with it.”
He shook his head, took her hand in his, and lightly kissed the back like the first day they met. “Not that.” He hesitated before continuing. “I sort of caused this detour.” Which turned out to be totally stupid since the mysterious goon caught up with them because of it.
Her eyes narrowed, but she hadn
’t gone full-blown Grumpy Sparrow yet. “Oh?” Her response mildly threatening.
“Yes.” If this caused him to lose his goodbye kiss, he’d end up kicking himself for the next month. “After I sent the message home, I contacted one of the maintenance workers on the refueling platform. I—” He cleared his throat. “I sort of bribed them to break that doohickey so we’d have time to come down here.”
Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth a few times as she scowled at him.
He threw out a quick, “sorry,” and tried the big cheesy grin. He’d have to stop doing things that caused him to constantly need to apologize.
There was a small shake of her head. “You’re such a child.”
“You had fun, didn’t you?”
“Yea. I had fun. But I’ve got a job to do. I’m not on vacation.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “Your life should only be vacations and fruity umbrella drinks.”
She fought back a grin. “You’re not trapping me in your thrall. Did it ever cross your mind that we could’ve been carrying needed medical supplies for some desperate world? You’re lucky we don’t have emergency medicines on board this trip.”
It was another knife to his gut. He inwardly cringed at his callousness. He hadn’t given a thought to the cargo but restrained himself from more apologies. They were sounding redundant. Instead, he changed the subject. “I contacted a service to pick up my bag and shuttle it from Nephele II station to Nephele I. Will you make sure they get it?”
“Sure. What will you do?”
“The Rhime embassy put me in touch with a local private security service. They’re coordinating with the local police and the resort. They also put me in touch with someone who does…” The man with the security company had implied this other contact was more mercenary than private investigator, but she didn’t need to know. “Well, he’s capable of doing off-planet investigations.”
“You told them?” She seemed surprised.
“I didn’t tell the embassy anything more than wanting a reliable security service. I implied I was looking for a bodyguard. That should keep the ambassador happy and away from me. The other people…” He shrugged. “Not everything. I didn’t mention the blood. I told them the men robbed me. The people here will go after the local man. I’ll tell the galactic guy more details.”
“I think you have more than one problem.” Her hand stroked the scrapes on his wrist.
“Oh. I guarantee I have more than one.” Leaving Sparrow was one of the larger ones pressing his mind, but she was a bird that couldn’t be caged. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure if you’ve thought of this yet, but if the people who wanted your blood are looking to recreate someone with the Mirre, I don’t see how they connect to someone back home who may already have a version of the power.”
That had been one of the many things to cross his mind while attached to a chair and perched on his side. “Yea. I know. I’m getting the impression there’s more than one thing happening here.”
He didn’t want to let her go, but there was little left to say. She felt it too. They stood, hands grasped, seeking more questions to keep the conversation alive. More banter. Anything to avoid the inevitable end.
“I’ve got to get back to my ship.” A mocking scowl formed across her brow. “You’ve screwed up my schedule.”
“This isn’t over.”
A disbelieving huff left her mouth. “We’ll see.”
He lifted her chin. “You will see. I’m not forgetting you. I’ll see you in another dress and dancing in the capital.”
“You have no idea how lucky you were to get me into that one. I haven’t owned a dress in years.” She pulled him down for another kiss. A last kiss. Or a kiss that needed to last them a long time. How long was a mystery. And while it was a mystery he’d long to solve, he needed other answers first.
She looked ready to cry, but tears were one thing he couldn’t handle in her eyes today. Not after last night’s mess. “Stay safe,” her words a pleading whisper.
“You too.” He turned to leave. “Give my best to Tina and Sparky.”
His quarry had boarded the Queen Tucker VIII bound for a half dozen stops in its circuitous route through more than two dozen nodes around the galaxy. It left Nephele I already and went through the node nearby. Jason and his newly hired henchman wouldn’t be able to pass the node for another thirty-four hours. The break in contact with Dr. Antagonist troubled Jason. If the man disappeared or even gave the vial of blood to someone else during the intervening time, tracking would become problematic. Grabbing his freshly purchased luggage, he went into the awaiting shuttle.
A few hours later, he landed inside Nephele I and found his contact. The station was younger than any of the ones around Rhime. The Rhime stations were nothing but small sensor platforms with the keys to the adjoining nodes. Nephele I was a mixture of a node platform along with something similar to Porter Station, although a lot more extensive, allowing people to live permanent lives away from the planet. Grand shops and hotels. Apartment complexes, entertainment arenas, theaters, schools. A complete city in space. If he’d known how much different these stations were when compared to the ones back home, he wouldn’t have bothered sabotaging the ship for the trip down to Nephele.
Jason ordered a drink and then joined his soldier of fortune at the cafe table. “You must be Bill.”
The man gave him a discerning examination and nodded his head. “You know, kid, they told me you were young, but this is a bit extreme. I usually get hired as a last resort. not to babysit.”
Jason longed for the days of being called prince and having everyone fall into line. He summoned his family pride and threw out his chin. “You got your retainer. I’m paying the bills, so you can damn well treat me like a boss.”
Bright-blue eyes from a man who looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties stared back at him. His true age could’ve been far more, but Jason didn’t notice any signs of Shabin Industries youth treatments. The man’s too-long blond hair, casual slovenly dress, and slumped posture didn’t convey a great deal of confidence. But his slim build was packed with muscle, hinting at genetic body-mods.
Bill leaned forward and smiled as he smacked him on the shoulder. “Ha! I like you, kid. You got stones. We’ll get along fine.”
Jason leaned back in the chair and relaxed. “What’ve you found out so far?”
Turning his comm around, he pushed it toward Jason. “That’s the guy, right?” The image on the screen showed Mr. Vampire on the resort’s security footage. Jason smiled to himself at the bloodsucker term. It was more than kisses Sparrow had taught him during their journey together.
“Yea, that’s him.”
“What did he steal from ya?”
Jason grimaced at the question. He didn’t want Bill to know, but it seemed inevitable. “Does it matter?”
“I’m gonna need to know what to steal back. Whatever it was, at my prices, it must be worth a fortune.”
“Let’s just catch up to him first. Who is he?” Jason played with his straw.
“That’s Mark Ferguson, or at least that’s one of his names.” Bill tapped a finger over the image. “It’s rumored he’s from Chestnut.”
Familiar with every area back on Rhime, Jason didn’t recognize the name. “Where’s Chestnut?”
Bill flipped a dismissive hand at him. “Meh. Shitty little planet on the other side of the node Nexus. Doesn’t matter.”
“It couldn’t be him. My guy spoke with an accent from home.”
Bill grinned. “I’m sure he did. That guy’s one of the best. He doesn’t look anything like what you saw. He’s a good chameleon.”
“What’s a chameleon?”
“Blends in. Look, the point is the guy knows what he’s doing. I’ve got a source on this station, and they let me look at the passport scan he used to get on that ship. George Power was the name on it. Maybe he’s slipping because he’s used that
identity before and that linked him to the Ferguson name.”
Jason idly sipped his soda. “Have you tracked him before?”
“Nah. We’ve never crossed paths professionally, but I was at a…” Bill stopped himself then chose his words with care. “…a gathering one time. I met him there or at least I think I did. Hard to tell with people in my business. So how did you know he was getting on the Queen Tucker?”
Jason drummed his fingers on the table. He caught himself mimicking his father’s annoying pattern and stopped himself. “Shabin magic.”
Bill raised an eyebrow. “Look, kid, if you want to find this guy, you gotta come clean with me. I’ve read the BS the tabloids put out about your family, and I’m not buying it. There ain’t no pixies or demons.”
Jason clamped his jaw. Sure, the whole universe wasn’t privy to the inner workings of his family history but not being believed was annoying. “You’re right it’s not magic, but it’s real.”
Bill leaned back and crossed his arms. “Prove it.”
They were sitting in a cafe on the main concourse of the station. Jason hated to enter the Mirre with so many people around — too many distractions for an easy link to a new person. “Okay. I’ll do it with you. It’s going to look like a stupid mind-reading trick but it isn’t, and if you lie, the demonstration won’t work. I’m not a polygraph.” Not without repeated intensive questioning he wasn’t.
“What you need me to do?”
“Did you have a favorite pet growing up?”
“Sure.” Bill laced his expression and tone with more than a touch of sardonic doubt.
“Think of the pet and its name.”
“You want me to pick a card also?”
“Just do it.”
“Okay, okay.”
Jason set his drink down and focused. Bill. Gun for hire. Here and now.
The wandering crowd became no more than shadows milling around inside the Mirre unless Jason directed his attention on them. Fake Bill sat half grinning half stone-faced watching him. “So, remember if you lie, this won’t work.”
Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime Page 11