by Vanessa Muir
The nerves were real.
She hadn’t been authorized to come here. The State had been clear about her following leads, and just as clear about her never encroaching on the privacy of the grieving widow. This was out of bounds, and that was exactly the reason she had to do this.
Once again, Charlie opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator. She walked up them to the Shamood’s floor, then found the door, the only one in the short hall that led to it, and knocked once, her heart pounding its way up into her throat.
If she could get more answers. Or perhaps, this was a waste of her time, a stab in the dark, but there was a tingling at the back of her neck. Nothing fit right in this case, and if Kegan had been the gardener for these people, then surely, he couldn’t be a pseudo-person created by the State.
Charlie raised her fist and knocked a second time.
Finally, footsteps approached the other side of the door, there was a low beep as the lock was opened, and a woman appeared. She was gorgeous, tall, willowy and blonde, with tan skin. She wore high heels and a silk robe fastened around the waist with a velveteen rope.
“Yes?” she asked, in a thick accent. “What is the meaning of this? It’s early morning. You have no right to interrupt me.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” Charlie said and tapped her SSG watch for her ID. “I’m Agent Spade with the SSG. I know it’s early, but this is a dire situation of the utmost importance. I’d like to speak to Liliana Shamood.”
“Yeah, about what?” The woman rolled her eyes. “God, you people. You’re all over the place, and so goddamn annoying. Don’t you get it? We have nothing to discuss anymore. It’s over.”
“Ma’am, I need to speak to Mrs. Liliana Shamood, right now.”
“Uh, you’re speaking to her.” The blonde flicked back her hair.
Charlie froze, trying to fathom that out. “What?”
“I said, you’re speaking to her.”
“You’re Liliana Shamood?”
“Did I stutter?” The woman pursed her lips.
But she wasn’t Liliana, at least, not the one that they’d spoken to a few days prior at the start of the investigation. That woman had been timid; she’d hardly been able to answer any of their questions. She’d seemed perpetually uncomfortable.
And she wasn’t the real Liliana. What the hell?
“I don’t have time for this.” The woman, the fake or real wife of Shamood, tried closing the door on her.
Charlie put out her hand and blocked it. “Wait, ma’am. I—who’s the woman I spoke to the last time I was here? She claimed to be you.”
Liliana’s expression changed instantly. “Let go of the door or I will call for security.”
“Ma’am, you don’t understand. This is exceptionally important, I’m investigating—”
“I know who you are! Let go of the door. This is your last warning,” Liliana snapped.
Charlie reluctantly released her hold on the door. Liliana slammed it, immediately, and that was it. The end of the questioning. And she didn’t doubt for a second that this Liliana, if that was her real name, would call SSG or the State to report what had happened.
Charlie turned her back on the door and walked for the stairs at the end of that short, cream and chrome hall. Right on cue, her SSG watch alert beeped, summoning her back to HQ. But she wasn’t about to walk into the lion’s den.
She needed an ally, someone who could help her from the inside. There was only one person to turn to, even if it meant breaking all her own rules.
Eli.
13
Charlie stood in the alleyway next to her building, her gut paining. She’d arrived back at her apartment and found them waiting. For her. They weren’t in the street, no, but up above, in her apartment. Shadows moving through her drawn curtains—ones she’d only just replaced.
SSG? No, they would have come in their shuttles. This had to be operatives of the State, being blatant. They knew they had her, that she’d stepped too far by going back to the Shamood residence. Simple as that.
What would they do, though? She didn’t plan on finding out.
Charlie strode down the alleyway to the far end, putting distance between herself and the front of the apartment building. There was no safe haven anymore.
She reached the end of the alley and glanced left and right. No one suspicious, fuck it, no one nondescript either. Still, her heart pounded against the inside of her throat. If the Liliana at the apartment had been the real one, then Charlie had no idea who she’d spoken to previously.
And that meant there was more to this than the State wanted to admit.
Charlie tapped her temple and routed a call through to Eli. It rang twice.
“Hello? Spade?”
“Eli,” Charlie whispered. It was early morning, now, and the city had come to life. “Where are you?”
“Dude, I could ask you the same thing. What the hell is going on? Boss Ink is freaking the fuck out. I got a half hour lecture about you, about reining you in. What the fuck?”
“We need to meet, now.” Charlie glanced back down the table at the other end of the alleyway. “Right fucking now. The State is lying. That Liliana we spoke to? She wasn’t the real one.”
“What?”
“You heard me right.”
“Hold on.” There was a beat, the sounds of others in the office as Eli moved through it, followed by the slam of a door. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Eli, we need to meet up.” Charlie cast around, thinking back. “At the suspect’s home. We have to go back and speak to that neighbor. There’s something wrong. The State’s at my apartment.” She stopped and counted to ten, mentally. She had to find calm in this, but it felt like she’d just stepped over the precipice and everything was about to blow up.
“So, what? I mean, this might just be some weird coincidence,” Eli said. “Come on, Spade, come back to the office and we’ll talk it out. This Kegan suspect...”
“There is no Kegan,” Charlie snapped.
Eli fell silent.
“He’s not real. He was created by the State as a scapegoat. I don’t have it all figured out yet, but that’s the gist of it.”
“How do you know all of this?” Eli asked.
Charlie bit down on her bottom lip. Whether she liked it or not, she had no one else to rely on. Calling Levi wouldn’t help her expose them. He would just tell her to keep her head down, that he couldn’t help until she found the truth.
But Eli, he could help. He could do the research she needed if the State decided she was enemy number one.
“Charlie,” Eli said. “Answer me.”
“Black Mars. I can’t say more than that, not over the phone.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been in contact with—”
“Not now. Meet me at Bolryder’s house, and we’ll talk.”
“Wait,” Eli said. “I need you to tell me what’s going on here. I’m not going to stick out my neck for you without knowing what’s at stake. I’m your partner, but this is going too far.”
Charlie’s throat closed, and she cleared it. She turned, looked back at the far end of the alleyway. “I’ve been in contact with... you know who I’m talking about. They’ve given me a few thoughts to run with, and I’ve discovered myself that it’s true.”
“Why? Why are you talking to those people?”
“Because the State is... they’re covering shit up. You know they are, Eli. The MemXor, the past cases, they were all blamed on Black Mars, when really... there was no evidence of that. You know that.”
Eli gulped. “I don’t know, Charlie.”
“Meet me. That’s all there is to it. Meet me or send them after me, those are your choices, Eli.” And this was the test—her ex-partner had betrayed her. Would Eli do the same?
“OK,” Eli said.
“OK, what?”
“I’m going to meet you. The suspect�
�s house.” Eli’s voice wavered slightly.
“Good.” And then she disconnected the call. It might be a lie; she might end up going to Bolryder’s house and finding the State waiting for her there. If Eli wanted in, if he believed that she was right, that the State was to blame, then she would show him what she did know.
Not much, but enough to arouse suspicion.
A noise sounded from the end of the alleyway, and Charlie got to moving, immediately.
This was Charlie’s last chance.
14
It was safer, ironically, in the Corden Delta sector than in Corden Prime. The dirty roads, the lack of shuttles, the streeters hovering at the corners, not bothering to wait for nightfall to start selling themselves.
Charlie exhaled and leaned her back against the side of the apartment building—Kegan’s, if that was his real name. It was late afternoon, now, and Eli hadn’t turned up yet. He hadn’t called either.
And she hadn’t been followed by either the SSG or State operatives. She was alone, and on the brink of contacting Levi Daniels. He had to have something to offer her.
Footsteps approached from down the road, and a whistle sounded.
“Hey baby, you wanna have a go?” One of the streeters had perked up at the sight of a man approaching.
It was Eli, no longer in his SSG uniform, but wearing plain clothes—jeans and a white T-shirt. He halted in front of her, tucked his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to one side.
“You came,” Charlie said, and she was genuinely surprised by it.
“Hmm, yeah. Here’s hoping I don’t regret it.” Eli exhaled, shrugging in the afternoon sunlight. “You want to explain to me why I had to come? What’s going on? Black Mars?”
Charlie glanced around, but there was nowhere they could privately discuss this. It was more likely they’d be overheard inside the apartment building than out of it.
“I’ve been in contact with them, as I said. With their leader. For a while now.” Charlie licked her lips. This was difficult—made her sweat all over. If Eli betrayed her... but no, it was too late to be betrayed now. She’d already made her bed by visiting Liliana Shamood without authorization.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why, Eli. You’ve seen what I’ve seen. You know that they’ve been covering our tracks, accusing people of being Black Mars when there was no real proof of it.”
“Yeah, but... there might have been proof we didn’t see.”
“That’s what you think? That’s what you’re choosing to believe?” Charlie turned toward the apartment door and used her watch to swipe herself in. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be here, after all. Go back to SSG and tell them I’ve gone rogue. Whatever it is you want to tell them, I don’t know.”
“Spade, I came because I want to be... on the right side of history. I want to help you.”
Charlie paused, caught his gaze over her shoulder. “Then follow me.”
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“Talking to the neighbor. I want to know who the hell these people really were. There was no evidence of a married couple living in that apartment.” Charlie walked up the stairs, Eli in tow, and reached the apartment, fast. Their seals were still on the door.
Instead of breaking them, Charlie walked for the apartment next to it and knocked.
The elderly woman who lived there, Mrs. Patowsky if she remembered correctly, opened the door and held it, frowning up at them. Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I remember you. You’re those lovely officers that were here the other day.”
“Mrs. Patowsky,” Charlie said. “I’m Agent Spade, and this is Agent Yoke.”
“Nice to see you again,” Eli said and nodded.
“You’re too kind. Have you come to talk to me about poor Kegan and his wife?”
“Yes, ma’am, if you have a moment.”
“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Patowsky shuffled back in her shabby slippers and gestured for them to enter.
They did so, walking into a short hall, well-lit, and bathed in the scent of baking cookies or the like. Charlie smiled. It was a homely smell, and not one she was accustomed to.
“This way.” Mrs. Patowsky guided them into a kitchen and seated them at a short, melamine table. She placed cookies on the table between them, then brought them each a cup of coffee. She seated herself opposite Charlie, smiling broadly. “I’m glad you came. I hoped that you would.”
“Ma’am?”
“It gets lonely here. There aren’t many others living on the floor who are willing to talk to an old woman. And my family... well, that doesn’t matter, now, does it?” She pushed herself up from the chair and hurried to the cupboards behind her. She opened a top drawer and rummaged through it, then came back with a recipe book clutched in her hands. She set it down. “I keep my memories in here. Silly old thing, but it helps me smile when it gets too quiet around here.”
“I see,” Charlie said. “Mrs. Patowsky, we wanted to ask a few questions about Kegan and Danika.”
“Of course.” The woman opened up her book and turned the pages. It was quite something, seeing a print and paper book being handled. The pages were yellow and thick, the print still dark though age had taken its toll on the book.
“Did you ever hear Kegan and Danika fighting?”
“Oh, on occasion. But what couple doesn’t fight?”
Charlie took a breath. “So, you wouldn’t say they were violent with each other, or Kegan was violent with her?”
“Oh no, definitely not. They did love each other. Poor Kegan lost his job. It’s quite a regular occurrence around here, and after that... he was here less and less. And Danika too.” She continued flipping through her book, then halted and withdrew a print picture from it. “Here they are. About a month ago at the local barbeque. See? They were happy.”
Charlie took the picture and studied it. Eli shifted next to her, gave a grunt.
It wasn’t Kegan. At least, not the Kegan they’d witnessed tearing Absalon Shamood’s eyeball out in the surveillance video. It was a completely different guy.
“More coffee?” Mrs. Patowsky asked and rose from the table.
“Yes. Please.”
She collected their mugs and shuffled over to the pot to prepare it.
Eli nodded to Charlie. “All right,” he said. “I believe you, but I want to meet him.”
“Meet him?”
“You know who I mean, Spade. The guy.”
“Levi,” Charlie whispered.
“If I’m going to help you both, I need to be in on this. I need to be a part of the plan or we’ll never succeed. What do you say?”
She was desperate. For the truth, for an escape from her father and the State, for freedom.
“All right,” she said, at last. “I’ll make it happen.”
15
The alert had come through on her standard issue SSG watch about a half an hour ago.
A red alert, calling all available SSG agents to respond. Her face displayed on the screen, naming her as an enemy of the State and ally of the rebellion. To be brought in alive instead of dead.
It made her skin crawl—emotions she wasn’t used to experiencing had cropped up in the past week—but they had arranged the meeting. Levi had chosen the location—a back alley diner in the Delta sector. He wore all black, as per usual, and sat in the corner, not eating, not drinking.
Eli and Charlie sat across from him. Eli had already ordered two beers and a plate of fries. Charlie had opted out of food as well. The whole situation made her sick to her stomach. She’d been reserved with her partner from the start, shit, she’d learned her lesson with Jones, hadn’t she? And now, she’d chosen to do the same thing again—trust her partner.
“I don’t like this, Spade,” Levi said, and his tone was rougher than she’d heard it.
“What’s the matter?’ Eli asked. “It’s not like I’m a stranger. I’m Charlie’s partner. We can talk privately.” But Eli’s gaze kept switching past Levi and
toward the bar or the bathroom door or the front of the establishment.
It gave Charlie the shivers. Had she made a terrible mistake?
“What do you want to talk about?” Levi asked, still gruff, but patient. “This is significantly dangerous for me, Spade. You understand that, though I’m not sure your partner does.”
“We need a plan of attack moving forward,” Eli replied. “We need your help.”
The “we” didn’t sit right with Charlie. She’d been doing this on her own for so long. “That and... I need access to the memory cloud. A specific folder,” she added.
“Oh? I’m assuming this memory is one you can’t access through your usual connection?”
“Zero authorization. I have the codes, but... I’m not allowed in. Could your people hack it, Levi? The cloud? Could you get me the permissions I need to access the folder?”
“That’s a complicated question," Levi said, shifting in his seat. "And not one I’m willing to answer in front of your partner. He’s unproven.”
“I’m proven,” Eli snapped and clunked his beer bottle down on the tabletop. “What do you think will happen to me if they find me here with you? I’ll be accused of being a Black Mars operative or liaison. I’ll be in just as much trouble as Spade. Why would I risk that if I wasn’t into going all the way on this?”
Levi kept his peace, and a silence fell between the three of them.
The inside of this diner was shoddy, but modern, with metal-glass tables and a long production line of drinks on the bar at the other end of the space. No one would come to bother them when they could order drinks directly from the built-in menu on the table. Charlie considered it now. God, she’d need a drink to get through this. The two men sized each other up from across the table.
“Levi,” Charlie said. “I need to know if you can help, and if so, I need you to... give me access to your people. I can’t go back to SSG HQ, Levi. I’m enemy number one in the eyes of the State, and all because I pried into an investigation they put me on. It was a trap all along.”