by Phil Rossi
Kendall’s reverie was broken by a rattle in the anteroom. The sound was followed by several loud thuds.
“Taylor?” Kendall said. There was an instant of static in his cochlear.
“Yes, Mayor?” Taylor’s voice responded.
“What are you doing out there?”
“What are you taking about?” Taylor replied.
“In the antechamber. It sounds like you’re moving the goddamned furniture.”
“Mayor Kendall, I’m not in there. I’m with Raney and Catlier.”
Kendall felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach. He activated the office door lock and called up the security feed for the anteroom—it showed only static.
“Taylor, there is something wrong, then.”
“I’m only a minute away, Mayor.”
“Well, hurry up, goddamn it.” Kendall moved out from behind his desk and went to the door. He pressed his head against the cool wood. There was another bang as something slammed into the door. The door shuddered and Kendall jumped backwards, scanning the room for the closest potential weapon at hand. He bent over an awkwardly shaped flower pot and was hefting it when Taylor’s voice crackled over the intercom speaker.
“What the—? Mayor. This is… really weird. You should come out and see this.”
“Is it safe? Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Yes, Mayor. I locked you in when me an’ the boys left to get dinner. No one has access to this antechamber when it’s locked but me and Captain Benedict and he’s in a meeting with the auditor now.” Kendall deactivated the door lock and the swung the old thing open. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at when he entered the outer room.
Half of Kendall’s book collection had been pulled off the shelves and lay scattered across the floor. It was as if someone had yanked out volumes at random and had thrown them around the room. A fat dictionary lay at Kendall’s feet. Obviously, the book was what had hit the door minutes ago. The furniture had been completely rearranged. Chairs were stacked in the middle of the room, tables stood on their heads. A practical joke? Kendall thought and looked at Taylor. He’s not smart enough to play a practical joke. Better yet, he’s not stupid enough to pull that shit, either. No one is. So in that case… what is going on here?
(•••)
“This is Crescent’s Core Sec HQ.” Marisa gestured with the sweep of a hand that encompassed the multiple banks of security feeds. “As you can see, the room is not large enough to accommodate overlay projection for the number of feeds on Crescent. So, we employ a more classic video feed system.” She pointed to the widescreen LCD that was suspended above the rows of smaller displays. “That screen is five times the size of the others and in high definition.” She then pointed to the two bulkheads at the far end of the room. “The door on the right, cell block is down there—temporary holding only. Criminals are processed and then either moved off station or to Crescent’s small penitentiary. The bulkhead on the left—showers, lockers, and the toilet.”
Marisa did not have to be psychic to know that Captain Swaren was not impressed. He had said very little on the trip down to the Core Sec HQ. He eyed HQ with same tight-lipped expression that had regarded the scenery on their trek down there. Marisa wanted to grab him, slap him, and yell in his face, Are you too pretty for a place like Crescent? He was rather pretty, it had to be said. Not that Marisa was attracted to him; she wasn’t. But, she couldn’t ignore the strong chin, high cheekbones, and glass-chip hazel eyes. His stuffiness didn’t affect his good looks, but the attitude rendered them a non-factor.
“I was told I’d have a private office. Where would that be?” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He moved over to the banks of monitors and squinted. “This resolution is crap.”
“Captain Benedict has the only office. Generally, in this monitoring station, there is only one Core Sec officer assigned. Most times, at least. You’re welcome to use this room.”
“Only one officer for all those feeds? That strikes me as understaffing.”
“As you will see in your audit, Crescent has been extremely clean for the past fifteen years. Besides, there are more than a few satellite monitoring stations on Crescent that are always manned. Core Sec is always watching,” Marisa said and forced a smile. Exhaustion began to throb as a headache behind her eyes. She hadn’t been able to sleep in her apartment without chemical assistance, not after recent events. Now, the pills hardly worked.
The effort of being enthusiastic was killing her slowly. Captain Swaren was no help.
“We’ll see,” Nigel said. “Are we done for now?”
“Well, there is certainly more of the station to see, Captain.” She looked at him; a quizzical expression drew fine lines into her brow.
“I’ve seen enough for now. I have plenty of work to do. If you’d be so kind,” he gestured to the door. He wanted her to leave. Marisa was insulted.
“Look, I’m your liaison here. Effectively, your assistant. Don’t you think… ”
“I think I’ll be contacting you if I need you. Please. I’m not trying to be rude,” Nigel said. If he was trying to be polite, he was failing miserably.
“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She had no idea what she would do in the meantime—Swaren was her only assignment. She was inclined to go to Heathen’s and not answer when Swaren called her. That would be career suicide—likely real suicide, she knew. Kendall would have her head. No, she would go to the mayor and give him a preliminary report. He would like that, and she would earn some points. Maybe it would hasten a discharge from his personal employ.
“Griffin,” Nigel said, and she halted on her way to the door. “Yes. Now I know why I know your name. You were wrapped up in a bit of a gun club scandal, no?”
“I…what?” Marisa stammered. Damn him—he had managed to catch her off guard.
“Be a love and, while you’re out, fetch the dock scanner data records for the past month and a half, and the maintenance logs for the last…say…fifteen years?”
Speechless, she turned on her heel and left him there.
(•••)
Marisa decided to head to Kendall’s office first. After that, she’d go to the bar. If she could still walk following the bar visit, she’d go to the dock scanner. At least now she could tell Kendall that Swaren had already asked about Heathen’s. Marisa found Taylor shelving books when she arrived in the antechamber. The room was a mess. Amongst the scattered old and rare editions, furniture stood cockeyed and upended. Taylor looked at her and grunted, but didn’t make any sound that approximated speech. Marisa imagined he was having a difficult time alphabetizing and almost said as much before he got off his big knees and pressed a thumb behind his ear.
“Marisa Griffin is here to see you, Mayor,” Taylor said and paused. “Go on in.”
The door didn’t even have a chance to swing shut behind her before Kendall was beckoning her over with his hand. “Officer Griffin. Will you come take a look at this, please?” he said. The door banged shut. “There is something not quite right with one of my feeds.” Marisa went behind Kendall’s desk to stand next him. He had one overlay pulled up and it hovered as a dark square. A diagnostic window floated in the glass panel that comprised the surface of the desk. Marisa glanced at the readout; it indicated that the feed was working just fine.
“What’s the problem, exactly?” she asked.
“The problem, my dear girl? You can see the overlay as well as I. It’s gone blank. But according to the computer it’s… ”
“Fine, yes. Is there something obscuring the lens?” It was an obvious question.
“Taylor made sure the camera was free of obstruction.”
“Did you hard reset the camera?” she asked.
“Did I do what? No. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“The feed cameras contain their own CPUs. Sometimes—and it is rare—they overload.”
“And how do I hard reset the camera?” Kendall asked.
<
br /> Marisa led him out to the antechamber. She hadn’t expected to be teaching Camera Maintenance 101. She pulled two chairs over and stood on one of them, then indicated for Kendall to do the same. Marisa found it a strange experience to stand on a chair next to the mayor. It felt like they were playing some silly kid’s game. The floor’s lava, touch and you die! She looked at Kendall; he was watching her intently. Marisa pointed at the rectangular button on the side of the camera. She could feel Taylor gawking at them.
“That one?” Kendall said, reaching out to touch one of several buttons on the camera’s side panel. She pushed his hand away.
“No, Mayor. The red button.”
“Ah, I see. I just press it, then? Or rather, I order someone to press it for me?” He curved his lips in a grin that made Marisa’s skin crawl. She offered a short laugh at his attempt at humor.
“No, you press it and hold it down for thirty seconds. The red LED on the front of the camera will go blank. If you see that LED relight, you’re in business.” She got down from the chair, leaving Kendall up there alone.
“Well, aren’t you going to press it?” he asked.
“No. You are, Mayor. I’m going to watch the diagnostic window back in the office to see if I can’t determine the problem.”
Marisa made it back behind the desk just as the camera rebooted. The diagnostic window showed endless rows of command line text—it scrolled by fast and most of it was unintelligible computer language. The feed floating above the desk exploded with a burst of static and went black, only to be replaced with four colored squares. The squares went black and, like that, she was looking at Kendall’s thin and wrinkled face in the overlay. He was squinting into the camera. The diagnostic screen on the desk display told her the system was functioning normally. She scrolled back through the boot log and couldn’t find anything off. At least, not at first. After a few seconds of perusal, she found a portion of code-text that was garbled beyond anything she’d ever seen. The symbols weren’t from any programming language she knew of. Strange. A virus in the security system? None that the diagnostic routine had picked up. Kendall returned to his office and the door closed in an arc behind him. He slumped into his big leather chair.
Marisa leaned over the arm of the chair; she was close enough to Kendall that she could smell the pomade in his hair. The smell was spiced and almost overbearing. Kendall looked up at her with watery eyes. There was a glimmer in those eyes that she did not like. He smiled. Apparently, he did not mind her proximity.
“I apologize, Officer Griffin. I realize you were not coming down here to repair my security feed.”
“No, I wasn’t. Nor was I planning on reviewing your feed. But that’s just the kind of girl I am—a real team player.”
“Certainly. Certainly, my dear,” Kendall said.
“When did the feed go out?”
“Ten minutes ago, five minutes ago? I heard some banging out there,” he pointed at the closed door. “Yes, five minutes ago.”
Marisa rolled the security feed back by eight minutes and let it play. It showed Taylor speaking into his comm. Marisa turned on the sound and heard the tail end of Kendall’s dinner order. Bratwurst with sauerkraut and hot mustard. The exit door slid open, and Albin Catlier and Jacob Raney stood on the other side it. Taylor stepped out to join them and once the door slid shut, the red light above it winked on. The feed tracked forward another several minutes, then went black at minute three.
“We’ll slow it down,” she said.
“Yes, let’s take our time.” She could feel Kendall’s eyes on her body, not on the feed overlay. She was used to attention from the opposite sex, but she didn’t relish how Kendall’s gaze made her feel. She glanced at the styrofoam container that sat at the corner of the desk.
“Your dinner’s getting cold, Mayor.”
“I’ve lost my appetite for bratwurst,” Kendall said and winked.
She shrugged off the comment and played the blackout portion of the security feed. The footage crept forward at one quarter its original speed.
“Now, what the hell are we looking at?” Kendall said.
At first glance, Marisa thought there was a defect in the charge-coupled sensor chip within the camera. A dark blotch grew in the center of the feed, devouring the pixels. But as she watched the shape grow, it became clear what she was seeing. She shivered. Up to that very moment, she hadn’t been convinced that the living shadows and their accompanying disembodied voices weren’t imaginary things—images created by her psyche as she sailed off the deep end. Hallucinations aren’t something that can be captured on a security feed, she told herself. This was a chip defect. The similarity was only coincidental.
“I don’t know,” Marisa admitted and took a deep breath. She glanced to the mayor. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. “I’ll play it back slower,” she said.
Ink dropped into a glass of water. The blackness twisted out with curling tendrils that grew and thickened. They spread out over everything, turning it all black. She took a step back from the desk, her hand on her heart. Her breath was short. The headache that had been a low throb now blossomed white-hot between her eyes. She managed to wrench her eyes away from the overlay before they could explode in her head. The floating hologram swelled; its glowing boundaries bowed outwards and looked about to rupture.
“Turn it off,” Kendall gasped. “If there’s a god, turn that fucking thing off.” The mayor’s eyes were frozen, open. Marisa thought they might fall out of his skull.
She pried her fingers from her chest and swiped her hand through the overlay. A lance of ice shot up her arm. The hovering black square exploded into light and was gone. Kendall let out a gasp and a cry and then began sucking in air like a drowning man. Marisa found she was doing the same. Consciousness became gooey for an instant and then she was on her knees and breathing hard. As she managed to slow her respiration, the glittering floaters that had been encroaching on her field of vision began to drift away. She looked up from the floor to Kendall; he lay slumped in his chair. The mayor was out cold and there was a trickle of drool on his suit jacket. I don’t know what’s happening, Marisa thought, and I promise not to care, if you just let me wake up and let this all be a dream, I’ll never question it. Just let me wake up. Let me forget this. Suddenly, Nigel Swaren was far from her mind.
Kendall stirred; a moan escaped his lips. His face remained slack, like he had taken a strong sedative, or had had a stroke. His eyelids sprung open and he was on his feet backing away from the desk. His eyes darted to Marisa who was still sitting cross-legged on the carpet. He looked afraid.
She didn’t blame him.
“Erase,” Kendall said, his voice a croak. What was that in his eyes? Recognition? “Erase the whole array. It can’t be good—what’s on there. Erase the damnable thing.” Kendall stormed out from behind the desk. The office door swung open and he disappeared through it. The door slammed shut and she was alone.
Marisa sat behind the big desk; the leather chair was still warm from Kendall’s body. She gazed down through the thick pane of glass at the rows of LCDs beneath. They cycled with a hundred feeds, each showing a different aspect of Crescent. There were LCDs dedicated to news feeds, too. A young girl had been murdered. There were environmental instabilities on Decks H through K. The Farm had reopened for business. Marisa looked away. She was afraid if she stared too long, she would see the feeds black out one by one until the whole desk panel was dark and a tar-colored wave of god-knows-what sucked her into its lightlessness. She called up the original feed again. It showed Taylor moving a couch against one of the far walls in the antechamber. She paused it and then called up the options menu. Her fingertip hovered above the words “purge record.”
Marisa hesitated. Captain Swaren was sure to audit the security feeds, and surely he’d be curious about what went on in the mayor’s office. She sat back from the hovering options menu and folded her hands in her lap. Had Kendall staged the whole thing so
that she would delete the record unknowingly, only to be blamed for it later? She looked around the room, and felt the office camera watching her. She could hear Kendall saying to Swaren, I left her there alone for just a few minutes. I had no idea what she was up to. Marisa was almost convinced she was being played. The bizarre imagery she had watched on the feed had evoked a strong and terrible reaction, but it could have been a trick perpetrated by Kendall. Easily. All the rest could be coincidence—a strong fucking coincidence at that.
But, she was willing to believe it was all part of her general slip into madness. She’d believe anything that would let her feel in control, even if for a few minutes.
She closed the options screen. If Kendall asked, she’d tell him she had deleted it. And if there was something on there that Swaren was not supposed to see, that was Kendall’s problem—and his ass. Marisa would play the mayor’s little game, but the rules had just changed.
She was in control.
(Part X)