Marlowe and the Spacewoman

by Ian M. Dudley

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “None of the addresses are legitimate.”

  Nina broke in. “Why would Tray give you bad addresses?”

  “Why indeed,” muttered Marlowe, suspicion cementing into certainty.

  “Ah, very interesting.”

  “Yes, House?”

  “I’ve finished scanning the PDI backups for the virus.”

  “My turn to guess. All the backups came up clean until after I met with Tray at the recon parlor.”

  “Correct. Evidently Tray infected you. The bogus addresses he sent you suggests the virus is embedded in that transmission.”

  Marlowe felt a fleeting surge of queasiness in his stomach before the nano probes neutralized it. He looked in the rear view mirror at his father, who was drumming his fingers on the back of Marlowe’s headrest while smiling at Nina. A large shadow behind them in traffic caught Marlowe’s eye. A City garbage truck, presumably driving its appointed rounds. Though it seemed a bit late in the day for that.

  “House,” subvocalized Marlowe, so Jebediah couldn’t hear him, “a question about father’s PDI.”

  “Yes?” asked House.

  “Are the audio and video feeds on his PDI still disabled?”

  “Yes. As I said before, I didn’t think it prudent to offer the City Municipal Hospital for the Criminally Deranged a live feed into everything dad saw and heard. Did you want me to reactivate them?”

  Marlowe resisted the urge to shake his head violently. “No, no, leave them off.”

  “Very well.”

  Marlowe studied the part of the City they were in. No construction, so the noise levels weren’t too bad. It all depended on how much attention was being paid to his incoming audio stream. A gamble, but with the sudden insight he’d had, Marlowe couldn’t afford not to take the chance. In the rear view mirror, the garbage truck was still behind them. Perhaps the heavy traffic was a blessing. He turned to Nina. “This traffic is driving me nuts. We could walk faster. In fact, I think the exercise would do us good.”

  “I don’t know about that-” started Jebediah.

  “Car, stop and drop us off. Try to keep up with us, though, in case we decide to get back in.”

  “Now just a second, my feet hurt!” said Jebediah.

  “Everyone out,” said Marlowe as the car paused next to the sidewalk. “As you always told me growing up, father, a little pain never hurt anyone. Builds character, I believe you used to say.”

  Nina looked at Marlowe quizzically; Jebediah glared. But both got out.

  They were in a major retail sector of the City. The Studebaker had dropped them off in front of a Bucky Brew and then forced its way back into the sluggish traffic. Marlowe was careful to stare straight ahead as he walked, keeping Nina and Jebediah behind him.

  “Not a word from you two, I need to think.”

  “Now just one moment, boy,” sputtered Jebediah.

  Marlowe, looking momentarily up at the roof of the copy store they were now passing, raised his fingers to his lips. “Not a word, I need to think.” Then he muted his audio feed.

  Here’s hoping the sudden drop in background noise doesn’t stand out too much, thought Marlowe. Still staring straight ahead, hoping to create the illusion of a silent, conversation-free walk, Marlowe addressed his companions. “Sorry about that. I’ve muted my audio stream. I don’t want House to hear what I have to say.”

  “Keeping secrets from House? That strikes me as a bad idea,” said Jebediah. “And what about my audio feed?”

  “Disabled when you first came home, to prevent the good doctors at the City Municipal Hospital for the Criminally Insane figuring out where you are.”

  “Why are you keeping House in the dark?” asked Nina. They were passing another Bucky Brew.

  Marlowe told them. It took some explaining before Nina fully understood due to her lack of familiarity with the perils of modern-day living in the City. But once explained, she grasped the incredibly gravity of the situation.

  “Diabolical!” stammered Jebediah.

  “It is pretty ingenious. I wonder if it would have worked if I hadn’t come along and interrupted your routine,” commented Nina.

  “I think it would have. You were the one who got us up into the zeppelin. Without you, I’d be so much star stuff right now.” Then he explained the plan he’d cobbled together on such short notice. “Any obvious reason to believe it won’t work?”

  “Well,” said Nina, “if you’re right, there’s sure to be another attempt on your life. We may not be able to get to House before that attempt happens. And if it succeeds….”

  “I’m counting on another attempt. This whole thing hinges on my apparent death. In fact, unless I miss my guess, the attack is imminent. I’m not exactly sure of the methodology, but I suspect it involves the rather large garbage truck behind us.”

  There was a pause in the conversation as, presumably, both Nina and Jebediah looked into the traffic for the truck.

  “Try not to be too obvious when you look at it,” said Marlowe. “We don’t want to tip our hand.”

  “The car will never agree to this,” said Jebediah. “The shame involved - no amount of pleading or explaining will convince the car to do it.”

  Marlowe resisted the urge to nod. “I know. That’s why I’m not going to ask it.”

  Jebediah let out a gasp. “The car will be most displeased. You may have to replace it when all is said and done.”

  “Possibly. One last question. How are both of you at firing pistols?”

  “I used to be pretty good, but I’ve been out of practice the last eight years or so,“” said Jebediah. “Apparently certain…facilities…don’t feel it prudent to allow patients access to weapons.”

  “I’m out of practice too, but it hasn’t been eight years.”

  Marlowe weighed his options. Nina wouldn’t be familiar with the weapon, but how much could they have changed in one hundred years? “No offense, father, but I think I’m going to go with Nina. However, if she needs help, I’m relying on you to provide it.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?” asked Nina. Marlowe told her. She had only one question. “Am I likely to get in trouble with the law?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility, but I’m hoping your new status will protect you from execution. A fine, possibly, but I’ll cover that if it comes to it. OK, the longer I’m muted, the greater the chance of arousing suspicions. I’m going to restore my audio, so careful what you say.” Marlowe squelched the mute on his PDI and looked back into traffic. The Studebaker was a couple blocks behind them. The garbage truck, while still far back, had gotten closer.

  “Car, come get us please. We’ll wait for you here in front of the…” Marlowe looked around to see the nearest store and sighed at the familiar facade that faced him. “In front of the coffee shop.”

  The Studebaker sent an affirmative honk to Marlowe’s PDI.

  “Well,” said Marlowe, turning to face Jebediah and Nina, “that didn’t do me any good. I’m still completely stumped. Maybe if I sleep on it something will come to me.”

  “Just don’t use drugs to sleep,” said Jebediah knowingly. “They did that to me at…that place, and I was never able to think clearly that night or the next day for that matter.”

  It took a couple of minutes for the car to reach them. As Marlowe climbed into the driver’s seat, he stole a glance at the garbage truck. It was definitely getting closer, swerving dangerously through the heavy traffic to close the gap. The Studebaker stopping to pick them up had presented the truck with an excellent opportunity to catch up.

  Marlowe got in, staring straight ahead. He could hear Nina opening the glove box, but didn’t dare look over for fear of the video feed reaching House. In the corner of his eye, he caught the reflection of the garbage truck in his mirror, moving up on them. He had to hope it wasn’t a bomb. A bomb didn’t make a lot of sense because the car was heavily shielded. Unless it was a big bomb. A real
ly big bomb. It was a possibility he couldn’t entirely discount. The car started back into traffic.

  As an eruption of car horns blared, Marlowe took the opportunity to look over his shoulder into the traffic, bringing the garbage truck into the center of his field of vision. Marlowe studied it, a typical City-built overly wide Waste Management Transport. Had it not been an overcast day, the sunlight glinting off the reflective aluminum skinned body of the truck would have been blinding. The bulbous waste compression chamber on the back of the truck rose almost six meters above the blacktop, dwarfing the two meter tall cab. A black robotic arm with two thick, serrated pincher fingers, rested horizontally against the right side of the chamber. On more than one occasion, Marlowe’s work had found him up and on the streets early enough to see them operate. When the arm rose from its harness and swung up and out to pick up a dumpster, it looked to Marlowe like the fingers were making a perverse Victory sign. Or perhaps the similar but more obscene gesture he’d read about as a child in some of the old English mystery books he’d found in his father’s library many years ago.

  The truck struck Marlowe as a marvel of inefficient engineering. The truck was larger than it needed to be, more style than substance in appearance. The street’s fat green lane lines crowded in on either side of the super wide truck. The front of the cab consisted of two enormous square headlights separated by a sliver of grille maybe half a meter wide. The hood ornament was a bronze snake consuming its tail, a metal circle half a meter across.

  It was now only a few car lengths behind them. Close enough for Marlowe’s purposes, close enough to put his plan in motion. “House, there’s a garbage truck that seems to be following us. Can you check to see if it’s on its actual route?”

  “One moment. Can you get the truck’s number?”

  “I’ll try,” started Marlowe, but the truck had suddenly surged forward in the traffic, the robot arm normally used for lifting large dumpsters swiveling around and grabbing one of the cars between them, throwing it out of the way. The pincers on the robotic arm started snapping open and closed. “House, how much force can standard garbage truck robot pincers apply to an object when they close around it?”

  “One moment. 200psi normally.” Not enough to damage the Studebaker, thought Marlowe. “Though one third of the truck fleet is designed to military spec, for use as offensive/defensive vehicles in the event of an invasion by an outside force.” Another car was unceremoniously flung out of the way, leaving only one car between them, the snoozing driver completely oblivious to the impending doom rolling up behind her. “Those robotic arms have a hydraulic system,” continued House, “capable of delivering 4000psi, more than enough to crush a tank.” And, realized Marlowe grimly, perfectly adequate to squash the Studebaker like a termite-infested Volume bar. “Examining your video feed, I can say with 96.4% accuracy that the truck behind you is one of the modified vehicles.”

  A rush of air filled the interior of the car. Nina rolling down the window, no doubt. Marlowe kept his eye on the mirror, watching the truck’s progress, leaving his right hand raised, fingers splayed out. Dropping his hand would be the signal to Nina. Marlowe moved his left hand over the Emergency Manual Override button at the base of the steering column. He hoped he could drive – he’d seen it many times, but had never actually attempted it himself.

  The pincers had just sent the last car spinning out into space. Marlowe absently watched it crash into a Bucky Brew. The coffee shop walls absorbed the impact and bounced the vehicle back into traffic. The pincers spun around, snapping hungrily as the truck surged towards them. Marlowe dropped his hand, killed his PDI, and hit the EMO button, completely closing down the Studebaker’s computer. The car swerved into oncoming traffic as Marlowe grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. There was a loud popping sound from his right.

  “Hey,” shouted Nina. “Keep the car steady! That shot went wide.”

  Marlowe turned back to see where Nina’s first shot had landed – she was shooting his illegal ion pistol – when Jebediah slapped him in the head.

  “Eyes on the road, fool! You’re in control of the car now!”

  Oh yeah, thought Marlowe. He faced forward, still trying to get the hang of the steering mechanism. They were almost on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. They had bounced off a few other vehicles in getting there. “Sorry, I forgot. Did you remember to kill your PDI?”

  “Did I remember to kill my PDI?” Jebediah’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Of course not, you dolt!”

  Nina, hanging halfway outside her window, fired another shot. Marlowe peeked in the rear view mirror, delighted to discover he could use the mirror to see what was behind him while still looking straight ahead at traffic. This shot hit the robot pincher, which had started to close on the rear of the car, dead on. One of the fingers snapped off and flew backwards into the cab of the garbage truck.

  “Aim for the cab. Take out the interior!” shouted Marlowe as he tried to ease his way back onto the right side of the street. He was starting to get the hang of the steering wheel. And Nina, evidently, was getting the hang of the ion pistol. While the truck swung its one-fingered pincher back to deal a sliding blow to the car, she fired three more rounds, hitting the the grille, hood, and windshield of the car. The grille and hood withstood the ion projectiles, but the windshield didn’t. It cracked and partially collapsed.

  Marlowe worried about the arm swinging back at them. “Shoot the arm! Shoot the arm!”

  “Hit the gas! Hit the gas!” screamed Jebediah.

  Marlowe looked back at him quizzically, getting another slap on the head.

  “Eyes ahead! Hit the accelerator pedal, we’re slowing down.”

  Ah, thought Marlowe. That’s why the car seemed to be slowing down. It required user input for velocity. The truck’s robotic arm struck the Studebaker, lurching them across the street and into the sidewalk. A Bucky Brew arrested their progress into the retail building, bouncing them back into the street. Strange, their walls seemed to have been designed to repel vehicles crashing into them.

  “The rightmost pedal on the floor,” screamed Jebediah. “Push it down to the floor!”

  Marlowe reached down with his right hand, searching for the pedal. Damned inconvenient, he thought, putting the accelerator so out of reach.

  “No, you idiot! With your foot!”

  With the foot, thought Marlowe as Nina fired two more rounds. That makes more sense. He stomped on the pedal and the Studebaker, with a groan, jolted forward, causing the robot arm to just miss. Checking the mirror, Marlowe noted that Nina had apparently taken out the remainder of the windshield with one of the last shots. The truck seemed to be sensing that it was at a tactical disadvantage and seemed to be slowing down.

  Two more rounds exploded from Nina’s direction, and Marlowe had a satisfying view of the cab of the truck exploding. Debris rained down on the the back window and roof of the Studebaker, not to mention the other cars and pedestrians on the street. It was a real mess, and not one Marlowe wanted to be near when the constables arrived.

  “Nice shooting, Nina,” said Marlowe as she slid back into her seat. “The gun didn’t give you any problems, I see.”

  “Surprisingly, no. The ammo may be different, but the operation is almost identical to the guns of my day.”

  “Idiot! Stupid, stupid idiot!” Jebediah was pounding the back of Marlowe’s head. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t know how to drive! I would never have let you get behind the wheel if I’d known. You almost got us killed!”

  Marlowe felt suitable chastened as he grabbed his father’s hands and stopped the blows. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know that I didn’t know. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to handle the car.”

  “Fool! Crazy, headstrong moron!”

  Nina grabbed Marlowe’s arm. “It took some time to take out the truck. Do you think it worked?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so. I suspect he needs me dead so badly that he’l
l want to believe it worked. The lack of any PDI signal from Jebediah and myself, and the car’s computer being offline, should be enough to create the illusion we’re dead.”

  Marlowe took the ion pistol and checked it. One shot left in the clip. He shuddered to think what would have happened if Nina had run out of shots. The refills were back with House. He put the gun back in the secret compartment in the glove box.

  “Right, now we need to pay a visit to our dear friend House.”

  “Hold on,” said Jebediah, his iron grip closing on Marlowe’s shoulder. “I’ll drive.”

  CHAPTER 20

  BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE…

  “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t helped,” grumped Jebediah as he drove. “I always tried to instill that value in my kids. Helping gets you kicked in the nuts, stunned, hog-tied, worked over with a rolling pin, and dumped into a mental facility.”

  Marlowe glared at his father from the back seat, the rear view mirror serving as an intermediary. “You only instilled values in your second-born son. The clone was left to his own devices once medical science made him unnecessary. Besides, I had to help. I had a debt to repay.”

  “Hmm.” Jebediah shook his head. “So naive, Spares. A debt that was, I’m sure, carefully arranged.”

  “Marlowe!” Marlowe sighed dejectedly. “And yes, you’re probably right about the debt. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Well-” said Jebediah before being interrupted by Nina, who put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Why don’t you concentrate on driving, Jebediah.”

  They reached the neighborhood five minutes later in surprisingly light traffic. Apparently the disaster downtown had altered the flow of traffic – all the vehicles were heading out of town now. Way out of town, where there were fewer garbage trucks about. Marlowe had insisted on parking several blocks away so House wouldn’t see the car. His external video feeds would pick them up as they approached the house, but if they were moving fast, it shouldn’t matter. And it was just possible that they wouldn’t be noticed, if Marlowe’s plan had actually worked.