Susan’s smile grew wider. “What’s the occasion?”
Mission shrugged. “One of the wonders of the solar system, a chance to see it with you…”
“And?”
Mission tilted his head. “And what?”
Now Susan shrugged. “It just felt like there was an and in there.”
Mission spoke with great deliberation. “Maybe there is.” He turned in his seat to face her more directly. “We’ve figured out what was happening in NA. We still have some work to do, but I think the end is in sight. And that means you’ll be making plans to move back into your place.”
Mission’s verbal pace had slowed to a crawl. Even though he had turned to face her, he was now staring at the floor. Slowly, he brought his gaze up to look into her eyes. “And I don’t want you to leave.”
Susan said, " Do you think now’s the time to jump into this? Were you here when we discussed the idea that neither of us may have jobs next week? "
"I was here. I want to be with you."
It wasn't pain or fear or sadness, but anger that forced tears to her eyes as she rasped, "Would you be serious for one goddamned moment of your life? Our situation is definitely serious."
"And would you be human for just one moment of your life? If we were seventeen and didn't have jobs, I'd say maybe not now. But we're on the plus side of thirty and we’ve both survived, and will continue to do so. I'm not proposing a business merger, I'm not deciding which speeder to buy. I’m telling you I want to be with you. And you know you want the same. You’re looking for a reason to not commit!"
"You smug bastard! You are so certain that you know everything and you may know a lot, but you don't know everything about me."
Mission put his face very close to hers and said, "Tell me you don't want me."
Susan's expression never changed and slowly she said, "I'm really not that interested in you."
"Liar." He slowly moved his face until it touched her and then his lips touched hers. Not kissing, simply touching. And then he pressed his mouth against hers, quite hard, and she pushed back. The abandon and duration of the kiss was as impressive as the view of Saturn.
Reluctantly, Mission pulled back from Susan. Before he could speak, Carson leaned back from the seat in front of them with a sour expression and said, “Jesus, you guys make me want to hurl.”
59
Mission's mixed feelings collided with dramatic impact in the pit of his stomach. The clear winner was the sense of being an outsider. In the past, he had noticed policemen hired off duty to handle security for fancy uptown parties. They stood with their arms crossed, emotionless. The partygoers refused to even look at the cops, much less acknowledge them as fellow humans. The message was clear. They were a necessary evil and nothing more. Mission felt exactly that way.
At the same time, he felt delight. No matter how hard adults tried, they couldn't completely pervert the sense of joy and innocence radiated by children. Watching the kids, Susan’s nieces and nephews, squealing with delight, romping through the room, playing their games infused him with a pleasure he forgot existed.
The seven year old girl ... Sherrie approached him and said, "Happy Holidays… Uncle ... Mission." She tilted her head and said, "What's your first name?"
Mission smiled and said, "I don't have one."
"Didn't your parents give you a first name?"
"Yes, but I gave it back. You just call me Uncle Mission, okay?"
She smiled and said, "I’ve been playing the piano today. I love it."
"Well great. Maybe you'll be a musician someday."
"Maybe. Dad says I must be a lawyer ... What do you do?"
"Well, actually ... "
Susan's father, Hugh boomed across the room. "Yes Mission, what is your occupation?"
All the activity stopped and Susan suddenly looked concerned. Mission said, "Well, I’m unemployed at the moment."
Hugh wasn't satisfied. What father would be? "Well, what did you do?"
Mission took a breath. What the hell. "Bounty hunter. I tracked down renegade synthetics for the reward money." Mission looked at the expression on Hugh and decided that at this moment, he couldn't pull a pin out of his ass with a tractor. Then he looked at Susan's mother Monica. She seemed even less happy, if that was possible. Yes, he was the hit of the party.
Susan's brother Alan said, "Well it's smart you got out. You can't last more than a year or two in a job like that."
"I did it for fourteen years."
Alan's wife Linda physically corralled her children with her arms as if to shield them from his influence. Monica said, "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."
Mission sat alone on the couch feeling sorry for himself. If not for Susan, he wouldn't have a life at all. General Snowden and the whole damned Army went crazy once they heard the trip report, and started preparations for an invasion. With that decision driving the entire process, Paradox jumped all over Mission, trashing his performance and making a cash settlement with him that fell short of generous. Pioneer even served him with notice of a civil suit, alleging his negligence caused Denman's death. And now, to have Susan's family welcome him so unconditionally...
His mind drifted back and he didn't see images nor hear the voices. The first thing he felt was a terrible hunger. Scared, and weak, and unsure. So he waited. The memory came into focus and he saw the kids playing in the street and saw that syn walk past. He followed him but not because he would do anything. The fear paralyzed him. But there was nothing else to do. He walked blocks and blocks and blocks until the only thought flashing in his head was the horrible hunger. Finally, he realized that he fingered the screwdriver in his pocket. Another thought elbowed its way into his mind. If you don't do this, you will die here and now. With a scream from some unknown place inside him, he attacked, jabbing the screwdriver in the syn again and again. The electricity burned the top layers of skin off his hands. The syn clawed the shirt and then the skin off his back. He lay sobbing on the street with his arm around the synthetic's neck, refusing to let go. He looked up to see an older guy bending over him saying, "Kid. Hey kid. You're okay. I don’t believe it. You took him down by yourself. I'm Miller. I'll show you how to collect the bounty on this gearbox."
Mission shuddered. Why did that memory pop into his mind? Because he worried that he again approached a point of desperation in his life. Monica called, "Dinner’s ready. Everyone come to the table."
Hallmark could use the dining room for greeting cards. The beautiful table and good silver and china with lace table cloths. The turkey weighed more than twenty pounds. It reminded him of his mother's kitchen.
Halfway through the meal, Susan's sister looked over at Mission and said, "So, you carry a gun and hunt down those robots in the Free Zone?"
Mission stopped in mid-bite and Susan tried to rescue him. "Clarisse, this is holiday dinner. This isn't the time to ... "
Hugh interrupted her saying, "No, no, no. I think we're all interested in knowing more about Mission."
Slowly Mission put his fork down and said, "Yeah. I find them and then I take them down."
Alan said, "You make it sound so simple. Why do more than 90% of recovery attempts end in death or serious injury?"
"Renegade synthetics know what happens during recovery. They’ll fight before submitting. They’re three to six times stronger than humans and incredibly intelligent and agile. This is not an enterprise for beer drinking buddies to try once deer hunting season ends."
Linda asked, "And did the scar on your jaw come from a synthetic?"
Mission nodded. "Yeah, I was lucky."
Alan eyed the scar and laughed. "You call that lucky?"
"Another inch, it would have torn my head off."
Monica threw her silverware onto her plate and said, "I have had quite enough. This is holiday dinner, not some barroom and I'll not have this kind of talk here."
Mission said, "I agree completely. Alan, Susan tells me you’re a Professor of Phi
losophy."
Alan nodded. "That's right."
"Do you specialize in any time period or particular philosopher?"
"Nothing you would recognize, I'm afraid. Mostly 19th and 20th century philosophers."
Mission smiled politely. "It sounds very interesting."
"Well, let's just say it challenges the intellect."
After dinner, Hugh motioned to Mission and said, "Why don't we have a talk?"
They moved to a small study and closed the doors behind him. Hugh stared very hard at Mission. "This all came about quite suddenly, didn't it? You two."
"Susan and I have known each other for years."
"Really? Tell me, how many times did you go out?"
Mission grimaced. "Look, I understand you being protective of your daughter. You're probably taking great pains to be nice to me. And I'm trying to be nice too. But the details of our relationship are personal. And if anyone tells you, it should be Susan, not me."
Hugh's face turned purple. "Why you smartass. My daughter calls one day and tells us she has to travel to Triton in two weeks. No mention of you at all. And when she gets home, she's living with a man without a job, or an education. Who up till now has made his living moving through the scum of the Earth down there in the Zone, attacking synthetics with lethal weapons he carries as a matter of habit. Now you tell me what I should be asking."
"Fine. First of all, I am a smartass. Get used to it. Second, you're talking to the wrong person. If I had a daughter in similar circumstances, I'd ask her if she loved him. If she was happy. You haven't mentioned love once. So I take it your priorities in a marriage are a good job and a good education with love not even getting an honorable mention. And under those criteria, I'll never satisfy you. So let's decide that we'll tolerate each other's existence for Susan's sake and be done with it."
Hugh shook with anger and he stabbed his index finger toward the living room. He screamed, "Get out! Get out of my house!"
As Mission came out the study door, Susan already held their coats and made for the door. He kissed Monica on the cheek and said, "Thanks for having us over. I think he's really warming up to me."
As he moved toward the door, Monica wiped the kiss off. Hugh glowered at him and as Susan physically pulled him out the door, he yelled, "Let's do this again real soon."
That evening, Susan found Mission on the couch poring over his notes with a bottle of Jose in his hand. Not even a glass. Susan sighed and said, "Mission, how long can you keep going this way?"
He looked up and said, "How long will it take for me to get to the bottom of this combat model factory?"
She sat down beside him. "What are you looking at tonight?"
"I'm back up to the meeting at Paradox where Tanya Ricci plowed the office with my face."
"And what do you think?"
"I think it doesn't make any sense. Tanya sat in the VP's chair for almost two years, handling emergencies, thinking on her feet, fighting fires. Even if the MPs do make an arrest, she knew her attorney could spring her in an hour. So why does she lose her cool and take a hostage? Why does she think Snowden has enough to implicate her? She works in Sales. She would be all too familiar with the art of bluffing."
Now Susan looked interested. "You make a pretty strong case. Why do you think she reacted the way she did?"
"I haven't a clue. All I can do is rack my brains for scenarios that fit the facts. The only one I have so far is that Tanya believed someone in that room knew her secret and that they would talk."
Susan shook her head. "You'd better keep moving."
"Yeah, I know it's not the most plausible explanation. I'll keep digging for another couple of days."
"And if you can't do better?"
"Then I'll run with it. I'll put the history of every person in that room under a microscope until I find something or go crazy."
Susan stared at him. "I'm sorry about the family dinner."
"Sorry about what? It's the best dinner I've had in years."
"Well, my family didn't exactly welcome you in."
"I didn't expect they would."
"And why is that?"
"I remember your first reaction to me. I didn't thrill you. I expected your family's reactions and values to be about the same. I'm very different from them. They have time to adjust to me. And if they don't, I'll have a hell of a lot of fun knowing I irritate them so much."
Susan smiled. "You are an unusual man. One of the reasons I like you. Now what about your family?"
"What about them?"
"Have you called them to wish them happy holiday? Have you even told about me?"
"No and no."
Susan's exasperation broke through her expression. "Mission, I'm not looking to change the world or you, and the world would be easier. But you’re part of a family and I think you should, to some extent, act like you’re part of a family. Could we get on the vue screen, wish your brother and sister happy holidays, introduce them to me, and invite them to visit us when they're in town?"
Now Mission looked exasperated. "I'd rather drink."
"And I'd rather hit you. Learn to compromise."
Mission instructed the computer to connect a call to his sister.
60
Five nights later, Susan found Mission on the couch in exactly the same position, except the number of empty Jose bottles now numbered in the teens. His stubble blossomed into a full-fledged beard, and the circles under his eyes appeared even blacker in contrast to his unusually pale complexion. Suddenly Mission realized Susan called his name several times.
"I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"I said I will call the Med Techs to hospitalize you if you don't eat something and get some sleep."
"What time is it?"
"1:00 am."
"Holy shit! Computer, call Major Carson Pierce at his home."
Carson appeared on the screen, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He wore pajamas. Well, that answered one of the mysteries of life for Mission. He knew that someone must wear pajamas. Up till now, he thought people only bought them before planned hospital stays.
"Mission, do you know what time it is? For God's sake, I get up at 4:45."
"I'm sorry Carson. I need to talk to you. Can we meet for a drink or something after work tomorrow?"
"Great. Being seen with you is like going to the movies with Stalin." He looked at Mission critically. "You look like hell. I told Susan to make sure she didn't leave marks that show. Let's have dinner at Bay East. You look like you need the food. 6:00 and show up sober."
The screen went blank before Mission could even say thanks. He took Susan's hand and said, "I need a shower and some sleep. Why don't you tell me what you've been working so hard at?"
Carson cracked open another crab and dug in. Mission sipped his iced tea and said, "As you might imagine, I've been going over and over the details of this entire situation. One of the areas I know the least about is the investigative work you did prior to us teaming up. Your report is very thorough, but I still have some questions."
Carson, through a mouth full of crab and seafood gumbo said, "Fire away."
"You started the combat model investigation on your own?"
"Well, in a way, yes. There were two separate leads that married up. I carried an assignment to monitor shipments to New Angeles. Our way of keeping tabs on the place. One day I realized that I had most of the supplies, but nothing on the syns. That made me suspicious, and the harder I tried to find them, and the more difficult the task became, the more I knew something was wrong. Finally I found a few syns out of a dummy holding company and they looked too sophisticated for mining work."
"At the same time, a tourist in the German States with a com recorded ninety seconds of a syn attacking and literally ripping a bounty hunter to pieces. After researching media accounts of syn violence, I knew it was too different from anything previous. I didn't know if there was a connection between New Angeles and this killer, but I needed to find out."
Mission nodded. "And did Snowden give his approval then? Or he knew about your activities all along?"
Carson smiled. "I file regular reports, but the General usually doesn't bother with them. He knows if I'm onto something big, I'll talk to him."
"And so you talked to him once you connected these two items?"
"Yeah, he saw the implications, so he told me to keep working it."
"He didn't give you extra people to work the case? This sounds like a major development."
"Well, I asked, but a Major's priorities are never the same as a General's. He was working a major effort in the Asian sector and couldn't spare anyone."
"I know you can't divulge military secrets, but how is the Asian thing coming?"
"No idea. None of my business. Why?"
“Oh nothing. I'm just poking around. I guess this means the Asian work was very important."
Mission looked at him and said, "By the way, would you be up for some strictly unofficial action in the Free Zone?"
"Jesus, Mission. I'm lucky I still have a job as it is after this New Angeles mess. I'm a career man."
"That's the beauty of it. Nothing's illegal in the Zone. Don't wear your uniform, don't take any ID."
Carson began to smile. "Say when."
"It's a few weeks off at best, but I wanted to make sure you would come."
"Just call me. But not after 9:30!"
61
Mission walked to Paradox, even though it was more than six miles away. It gave him time to think. After dinner with Carson, he followed up on several more leads and finally decided that he needed to talk to General Snowden. Easier said than done. Mission underestimated the depth of his perceived failure on New Angeles. It took threats about going public with the Tanya Ricci episode to get his attention. Mission used Tanya because he figured it was the only piece of the story he could tell without being charged with treason.
Living in Syn Page 27