Death's Twilight
Page 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Palmyra Municipal Building, Eastern UT, December 9, 2308 16:12:13 (T-Minus 03:13:47:47)
The maintenance facility was part of a larger complex of buildings in downtown Palmyra which took up the entire area bordered by E Main Street and Canal Street to the North and South, and William and Church streets to the East and West. The entire municipal staff resided in this complex which housed St. Anne's, Nima's Pizzeria and District One of the Palmyra police force.
Slade turned north onto William Street and hung another quick left into the parking lot reserved for Nima's customers. Exiting the hover, he walked to the North end of the building where the maintenance facility was. A chain link fence kept people out of the secured area, and a security hut was erected to protect the guards, but Slade calmly walked up to the guard on duty.
"Can I help you?" The guard, whose name tag identified his as L. Spooner, asked.
Slade paused, accessing his internal drive. This guard was listed.
"Yes. I'm afraid I parked where I wasn't supposed to, and I received an email stating my hover had been brought here. I'd like to retrieve it, if I could."
He smiled at Slade. "Happens all the time. I'll need ID, and we can make that happen for you."
Slade reached into his pocket, producing his iCorps ID. He brought it close to the aperture at the bottom of the window, causing the guard to reach beyond the window to get his ID. With lightning reflexes, Slade grabbed the guard's hand, pulling it towards him, causing the guard's head to hit the glass. He instinctively pulled his arm back, but cried out when the glass began to tear at the skin wedged between it and the wooden desk top.
Slade ran to the hut's door, turning the handle and pulling it open. As he rushed into the hut, the guard reached for his Boom Stick, but was struggling as it was on his non-dominant side. Slade reached forward, a flat palm crashing down on the man's neck where it met the shoulder. As the he went limp, Slade held him up, drawing the wedged arm out from the aperture.
Withdrawing his Tablet, Slade place the Closed sign on the window near the aperture and began to change his looks. Once the transformation was complete, Slade quickly swapped clothes with the man, and then dragged him back to the coat area, set him on the floor, and hid him beneath the coats waiting for use in inclement weather.
The last thing he did before heading into the garage was grab the guard's ID badge and attach it to his waistband. He had already checked to make sure that L. Spooner had sufficient clearance to gain access to the truck. It was time to move. He called the main floor layout to his memory. As he entered through the main door, he turned left, walking down a hallway dominated by sleek glass and steel offices. There were some people working, but they mostly ignored him, content to do their own work.
He passed a large meeting room on his right, and the light of the outdoor courtyard that was adjacent momentarily blinded him as the sun shone through the high windows. He was just passing the door when a group of guards rounded the corner, heading his way. He ducked into the courtyard, hiding behind a pine tree till the guard's voices could no longer be heard in the hallway.
On the move again, Slade entered the garage through a small door that barely allowed his body through. Once inside, he walked straight to the desk, asking the guard for access to the truck and hover involved in yesterday's accident.
"What do you need access to those for?" the guard asked. His tag read S. Wilkins.
"Well, Wilkins. Here's the deal. The chief wants me to look them over to see if the iCorps guys have missed anything. There hasn't been an accident like this in over fifty years, and he wants a fresh pair of eyes on it."
Wilkins looked skeptical, and looked Slade up and down, trying to see some sign to let him know what to do.
"I don't know, Spooner. That sounds like a weird request."
"Listen," Slade said, gesturing toward the center of the complex. "You don't want us both to get in serious trouble, do you? If I'm not back in an hour, the chief is going to boil my brains and eat them for lunch! Tell you what. You come with me. That way you can make sure I don't do anything I'm not allowed to."
That seemed to click.
"O-okay. Let me close down my station, and we'll go."
Ten minutes later, Slade and Wilkins were standing in front of the truck. Slade circled it slowly, giving it a critical once over. The grille had been smashed from the impact with the hover, but the radiator was still intact, and there were no fluid leaks that Slade could see. When Slade reached the back of the truck, he found the box empty save for a length of chain and a padlock the previous owner had left there.
"Wilkins," Slade called to the front of the truck. "Can you come back here? I can't tell if these tail lights are working or not."
Wilkins and Slade traded positions. Slade hopped into the cab, starting the engine, and putting his foot on the brake pedal. Wilkins' face glowed a bright red from the light, and Slade could see him nodding. Getting out of the truck, he walked toward the back, and met Wilkins who was on his way forward. Seizing an opportunity, Slade pointed over Wilkins shoulder.
"What the...?" Slade said.
Wilkins turned one hundred and eighty degree to see what Slade had been pointing at. In a flurry of movement, Slade closed the distance, grabbed Wilkins by the neck, and slammed his head into the truck just hard enough to knock him out. Wilkins' body went limp, and there was a head-shaped dent in the rear quarter panel. Slade grabbed the chain and padlock from the box, and then grabbed Wilkins with his free hand. He dragged both to a support pillar and chained Wilkins up.
Walking back to the truck, Slade got in, started the engine, and headed out of the garage into the bright sun. He drove over to Sarah, put the truck in park and turned off the ignition. Unlocking the hover, he sat in the driver's seat and called up the main computer interface.
"How can I help you, Slade?"
"Sarah, I'm going away for a bit. I'm going to put you in hibernation mode so that your power cells don't drain while I'm gone. When I get back, I'll wake you up."
"Where are you going? I didn't think you had an assignment."
"I don't. Goodbye, Sarah."
Slade quickly keyed the command that activated the memory wipe and format function.
"Goodbye? But Slade, I-"
The dash lights flickered, and a small progress bar on the windshield indicated the format progress. When it reached one hundred percent, the interface came up, and a message scrolled across the screen:
Say "Hello" to begin.
Slade stood, and walked away from the hover, shutting the door behind him.
"Goodbye, Sarah.