Dark Crypto (Thorne Inc. Book 1)

by Neil Mosspark

  The promotional material on the website showed happy scientists living and working inside the same technologically advanced building. Each had a plastic smile on their face, walking between laboratories and green hydroponic parks. Catchphrases said “Never need to leave” and “Safe away from crime.” Olivia pursed her lips when she read her personal favorites, “Upper-class lifestyle” and “Lower disease rates.”

  It was a great deal more to the west than she would have liked. Weighing the options, she decided that she would use the train. There was no way she was going to deal with traffic this time of day, and with her pounding headache, she could sleep for a bit in transit.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia had waved down a taxi from the train station as the sun began to set. It was a relatively short drive to her destination, but the absence of heavy traffic had given way to an absence of public transportation. Sitting quietly in the back of the cab, she mentally reviewed the case. The trail was getting thin, and although Mr. Grey had paid her an advance, she would likely need the bonus he had offered to pay rent at the end of the month.

  For a moment, she wondered how hard it would be just to move into the office.

  “There it is,” the cabbie stated, pointing to the large cube-like structure in the distance. The flourish of his hand indicated a sense of pride, as though he had built it himself.

  “Bigger than I expected,” she muttered.

  “They say it takes only three years from breaking ground to moving people in,” he stated.

  “For something so big, I would have thought it took longer.”

  “Nah, these eggheads have lots of machines to do all the heavy lifting. It's an automated construction site.”

  “Sounds expensive.” She leaned down to look through the windshield as the approached. The dimming daylight silhouetted the black shape against a background of oranges and dark blues.

  “Probably is, but most of the residents are working for some big companies.”

  The mega-block structure was possibly the widest building Olivia had ever seen, save for the wall around the Quarantine Zone. From the outside, the usual expected patterns of lit windows were almost completely absent.

  “Why is it so dark? There aren't any lights on,” Olivia asked.

  “No windows. I heard that it's for information security and stuff. All the windows are on the inside.”

  “Inside?”

  “Yeah, the inside’s hollow,” he said as the cab pulled up to the curb. Through the passenger window, she could see a long, brightly lit bottom floor. Inside was a row of counters staffed by people. It reminded Olivia of an airport check-in.

  She tapped her wallet against the pay sledge and heard the ding, indicating that the transaction was complete.

  “Good luck getting inside,” he said.

  “What?” She turned to him quizzically, her leg half out of the cab and her hand on the door.

  “Well, you don’t look like any of them. They’re ... you know ... fancy.”

  “You saying I’m not a fancy girl?” She realized that she was dressed in jeans she had worn for three days, an old jacket, and was in need of a good shower.

  “Nah, that’s not it. These people aren’t like us normal folk. It’s like its own country in there. Different clothes, people.”

  “You mean rich pricks.”

  “Yeah, I was trying to be nice about it.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. Drive safe.” Olivia stepped out of the cab and swung the door closed behind her. The yellow car pulled away quietly, disappearing into the urban sprawl just outside the cul-de-sac where she had been deposited.

  The warm breeze passed over her, and she could hear the rustling of the leaves in the nearby trees. Aside from the well-lit length of windows and doors, there was no indication that this building was anything but another corporate workplace.

  She strode toward the light and stepped through the automated doors. Thick glass interior doors stayed shut until the external doors closed. She noted the change in air pressure. The moment the interior doors opened, the absence of pollutants was immediately apparent. The sweet scent of flowers growing along the base of the far wall added to the sensation.

  The interior reminded her of walking into an airport or a large luxury hotel. There were no elevators or a reception desk, like she had expected. Only a long counter stretched fifty meters or so to her left and right. Every ten feet, a person stood, absently typing away at a terminal.

  Three large panel displays, as tall as she was, were cycling corporate advertisements and notices above the clerks at the counter.

  Even as she crossed the open space of the marble floor, she noted that there was an absence of garbage. Not even a spec of dirt or a stone lay on the perfect, uniform surface. The squeak of her shoes seemed to echo in the vaulted ceiling.

  Picking the nearest clerk, she stepped up and was greeted by a wide smile from a gaunt man wearing a suit vest and tie. “Good evening, how can I help you?”

  Olivia paused for a moment. “Neotech has an office in this building?”

  “Yes,” the man stated, smirking.

  “I was wondering if I might have a moment to speak with someone. Maybe in the public relations department?”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, this is a matter of urgency, and I need to speak with someone regarding an investigation.”

  “Oh, you are a police officer?” The smirk faded, but the look of helpful interest returned.

  “No. I’m ... a private investigator. I am trying to track down a few leads in a case and need to wrap up my investigation with a few simple questions.”

  “What was your name?” he asked.

  “Olivia Thorne,” she said.

  “Do you have any identification, Miss Thorne?”

  She pulled out her Private Investigator's Licence and flashed it for a moment. When he started to peer at it closely, she flipped it shut and buried it in her coat.

  The nameless clerk typed on his computer for a moment. Eventually, he stopped, sighed, and his face became a reflection of disappointment. “I am sorry Miss Thorne, Neotech has no public affairs officer in this building. I tried to find someone who might be a point of contact, but they have it on file that they do not accept visitors or inquiries from the public. My apologies, but I can’t find anyone to speak with you.”

  “No one? How do they do business if they don’t have any connection to the public?”

  He looked down the row of clerks, each engrossed with their own work, then back to her. “They don’t. They work for the government, I think.”

  Olivia massaged her forehead and tried to work out her next steps. “This is a pretty big building; people live here. I don’t see anyone coming and going. Where is the entrance?”

  “Right here,” he stated with a frown. He pointed to what could only be described as a set of doors behind the clerks similar to an elevator.

  “That’s the entrance?”

  He nodded.

  “Where are all the people? People should be coming and going.”

  “They stay inside. It’s a secure environment. It's very inconvenient to go through the security process. People often opt to stay inside. We like to keep our citizens safe.”

  “Our citizens?”

  “Yes, the citizens of this corporate block. We manage it like a small city. No one has any need to leave. We bring everything to them so that they can do their work efficiently and effectively.” The pride in his voice was saccharine sweet. She had the impression he had repeated the statement a thousand times in front of a mirror.

  For a moment his mannerisms reminded her of a case where she had pulled a teenager out of a personality cult. Specifically, it twigged the memory of how the members had spoken and acted when describing their benevolent leader.

  “It sounds amazing. How do I get inside?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’m very sorry, Miss Thorne, this building is only for our citizens. We do not a
llow visitors.”

  It was beginning to sound a lot more like a cult as the conversation evolved.

  “So no one goes inside? Not even family or friends.”

  “Correct,” the man said.

  “Does anyone ever come out? Maybe there is someone who can escort me around.”

  “I am sorry, but we only do tours for prospective hires, and only if they pass our in-depth screening.”

  “What if I want a job?”

  “You are welcome to apply, but please understand that they are very discriminating.” His expression was one she had seen before. A mix of disgust and resolve. Like a man who has had to scrape gum off of his expensive shoes and knows that he has to get rid of the offending morsel or it will just spread.

  “Interesting choice of words.”

  “It was intended.”

  “What if the police want me to finish my investigation? Maybe a search warrant. Would you let me in then?” she asked, pressing the matter. A search warrant would be difficult to get, and she would need Gabe to run the search. She needed solid evidence, and she had none.

  “If you had a search warrant, you would still need to have it issued by a judge working inside the city. The block may reside in the physical space of your city, but its citizens are policed by our own protective force. You might be able to get a federal warrant for a search, but it's unlikely, since I suspect no one has done anything wrong.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “Yes,”

  “I can tell.”

  “Thank you,” he said. A prideful smile oozed across his face. “If you don’t mind, it's near the end of my shift, and I no longer feel that this is a productive conversation.” With a small clatter of fingertips on his keyboard, he stepped back from the computer and walked away.

  She felt like grabbing him and pulling him over the counter, but the roving patrol of their private police force seemed to indicate that it would be more trouble than it was worth. They were already eyeing her.

  “What the hell?” she muttered to herself. She watched him walk up to the elevator and pass an electronic card over the external pad. The doors opened, and he stepped inside, pressing the button for the level of his own personal paradise.

  Shoving her hands into her pockets, Olivia turned and walked toward the entrance doors. She still had the phone number for the cab company, so at least she wouldn’t have to walk back to the train station.

  “What a waste of time,” she said to herself. As she stepped closer to the door, the light of the room flickered, and she could see the reflection of the big screens in the dark windows. Olivia stopped and turned.

  On each of the three screens was an advertisement for Neotech's upcoming gala. It touted that it would be the party of the year, an awards ceremony for scientific contributions to the company. She smiled when she read that it was in two days’ time.

  Getting a valid pass would be hard, but she knew just the person to do it.

  Chapter 9

  Olivia let the cab drive away before beginning her walk down the poorly lit industrial street. She had switched taxis three times. Once worried that she had a tail, it took exiting out of a Chinese food store and then through the back alley door of adjacent night club, only to step out onto the parallel street, where thankfully yet another cab was waiting.

  It was safer for her underworld contacts if she didn’t have a record of where she was being driven when she needed some tech support.

  She pulled her pistol out of her holster, chambered a round, and put it on safe before shoving it into her coat pocket. Keeping her hand tight around the grip would let her get the drop on anyone trying to roll her for what little cash she might have in her pocket.

  Jack didn’t live in a good neighborhood. Despite his constant insistence to “not drop by unannounced” she needed a safe place to sleep. At least one that Black Anvil didn’t have under watch.

  Checking behind her, she ducked into the darkness of the alley and jogged down its length. Her eyes, still unaccustomed to the complete dark, couldn’t see the ground, but she knew where she was going. Vaulting the low wooden fence at the end of the alley, she landed in the unkempt backyard of a house. Crouching slightly to the left where she landed, she listened in the darkness, waiting for the telltale sign of anyone who might have made the poor choice to follow her.

  No footfalls came. The paranoia abated, and she was satisfied that no one had successfully followed. Standing, she walked across the knee-high back lawn of Jack’s house to knock on the door. She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder one last time.

  “What’s the password,” came an electronically masked voice.

  “Open the door, Jack, before I kick it down.”

  The ancient wooden door buzzed open, and she stepped inside. Closing it behind her, she turned to face a reinforced steel cage and a young man on the opposite side with a sawed off shotgun. She was trapped.

  “What the hell?” She could smell the dry rot of the building. None of the lights were on. She wondered if the power even worked. Knowing Jack and what he did, there should have been power and in abundance.

  “Where’s Jack?”

  “Busy,” the young man said. The tattoos and bald head indicated to her that this guy wasn’t one of Jack's normal associates. What worried her more was the man's finger resting on the trigger. Intended or not, she didn’t want to die because of a jumpy punk.

  “I’m going to take my hand slowly out of my pocket.”

  The man just eyeballed her, knowing he had her dead to rights. At this range, it wouldn’t matter if the shotgun was loaded with buckshot or with solid slugs. It would tear her in half if it went off.

  She raised her empty hands above her head, leaving the gun in her pocket.

  “On your knees, face against the bars,” the muffled voice came.

  She complied, leaning against the cold steel, and the man reached through, patting her down. The young man pressed the muzzle of the barrel against her cheek as he reached in. Groping hands worked their way through her pockets and spent a little too much time near her back pockets. The smell of his sweat was masked only by the faint whiff of menthol cigarettes.

  Plucking her pistol, asp baton, and knife out, he retreated backward to place them on the nearby counter before stepping back to continue waiting.

  “Where’s Jack?”

  The man just stared back, keeping the weapon leveled and out of arm’s reach. She wondered if she should have attempted to take it away from him when he had been so close. She might have had a chance to pull it through the bars. Maybe break his arm.

  Ten minutes later, she could hear the creak of floor boards.

  “Olivia?” Jack’s voice came from the dark hallway straight ahead.

  “Hey, Jack. I like your new dog. Seems well trained. A little enthusiastic on the pat-down, but did a good job.”

  Jack nodded, and the young man lowered the weapon, but only marginally. “You can get up. He’s part of the new security system. I’ve been having trouble with some of the locals. They are telling me that I need to pay insurance. Can you believe that? I suspect they will try to burn the place to the ground in the next week or two. I'm not paying.”

  “If you were legit, you wouldn’t need to worry about that sort of stuff,” she said.

  “You should talk.”

  Olivia just shrugged. “I’m trying.”

  “So am I. Anyone follow you?”

  “Nope. All clear.”

  Jack stepped forward out of the shadows. A set of thick-lensed glasses looked her over. The young, thin man appeared undernourished. The tattered knit sweater that was draped over his emaciated frame seemed more functional than fashionable.

  “Well, come downstairs. Mom’s got some tea on. We’re kind of busy. You came at a bad time. We got a few projects on the go for some clients. Kind of need to pay close attention.”

  The dog with the shotgun unlocked the cage, letting her walk past. His eyes tracked her
as she slipped by. She knew the eyes of a killer when she saw one, and he wasn’t, but he also wasn’t nervous about keeping the weapon pointed near her.

  “So what is it this time, Olivia? Spies, gun runners, gangbangers, or just the run-of-the-mill jilted lover that needs email evidence for the divorce?”

  “None of the above. I need an access card for Neotech Corp. I need to get in and out of their elevator. I need to be able to walk around a bit in their building. I have some stuff I need to check on.”

  “Must be heavy stuff,” Jack said as he descended the basement stairs. His head brushed past a single hanging bulb, sending it swinging back and forth above them, casting odd shadows.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, those guys are paid to identify and catalog any of the stuff coming out of the Quarantine Zone. Mostly for the government. There a shady bunch, and most of the reason they are offering their services so cheaply is that they get the first crack at any of the tech. Most of anything they learn about the tech gets filtered to other companies they own.”

  “Wouldn’t that stuff be secret or something? The government would want that?”

  “Oh, they get it, but there are so many competing companies that are somehow finding stuff that was mysteriously ejected over the quarantine wall. Everyone’s collecting this tech. It’s a race to see who can use it. For the most part it’s all junk. There’s a lot that we can't get to work.”

  “’We?” Olivia said pausing for dramatic effect. “Can’t get to work?”

  “Well, we as in everyone who gets a hold of some of the tech. I’m a curious guy. I like new stuff.” He shrugged and turned to show a sly grin.

  Olivia could see Jack’s shaved head. In the back of it, a metal ring lay surrounded by angry red skin and bandages.

  “You had some work done, I see?”

  At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and turned, blocking the way. He reached up to touch it. “The implant is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m deathly sick because of it, but I’ve learned so much from it.”

  "Sick?"