Damage Time

by Colin Harvey

  "So what are you doing?"

  "If I take a beautiful girl home when I'm your age, I'll want to talk about it."

  "When you're my age, hey?"

  "Don't divert. We're not talking 'bout your age, we talking 'bout the fact that you aren't talking about her. Why?"

  Shah looked up at last, rubbed his eyes. "If I admit that my memory about the journey home is a little hazy, what conclusions are you going to draw?"

  "You was drunk?"

  "Exactly," Shah said. "And I don't drink."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "If I don't drink but I was showing symptoms, what does that leave? A brain seizure? I'm fine now. A fast-dissolving drug?"

  "If you were doped, that implies access to drugs powerful enough to override the regular anti-tox injections." Marietetski frowned. "I don't know anything that would dissolve fast enough to be undetectable in only a few – what, eight or nine – hours."

  "Depends," Shah said. "My monthly booster's on Friday. You know your resistance dips slightly the last few days of the month. If they could afford to, they'd boost us more often, but I guess they've had to trade off protection against us getting spiked to save money."

  "But that would mean either they took a chance…"

  "Or they knew when my booster is."

  "You saying you're the victim of a conspiracy?"

  "Conspiracy's a big word," Shah said. "All I'm saying is slip a cop or a civ a few giga-calories or some foreign currency to copy a few internal files. Don't mean that they paid 'em specifically to get at me. Maybe that was coincidence–"

  "You don't believe in coincidence."

  "–or I was collateral damage."

  "Hmm, don't buy it, Pete."

  "I'll admit I was flattered by Aurora's attention," Shah said. "Maybe thinking 'bout it, she was a little too interested in work. At the time I just thought she had a ghoulish streak. My… eye for the ladies is hardly a secret, is it? But what if she was a plant?"

  "Double 'hmmm'."

  "I guess I wouldn't believe it either, if I was you," Shah said. "But you asked why I didn't want to talk about it. I'm thinking some fucker's out to frame me."

  "Let's assume that's so, Pete. But you're still an idiot for taking a hooker home. Too many chances of things getting out of hand like this has. "Why? Who?"

  "You tell me."

  Marietetski thought, then took Shah to one side and taking off his piece, murmured, "I shouldn't tell you this, but van Doorn doesn't think you're guilty, or if he does, he isn't admitting it to anyone. He's got everyone pulling double time. No one minds, cause for all you're a miserable old bastard, people seem to like you for some reason."

  "My natural charm." Shah almost allowed a smile to seep through. Almost.

  "They're going through any cases past or present where you've crossed paths with a perp. And after fifty years that's a lot of people." He sighed. "I've done what I can, pulling out the stuff that I can offload onto you, and taking up the slack, and I've gone through as many as I can. Which leaves…"

  They put their eyepieces back on and Shah shuffled through the mountain of files. "My caseload's primarily made up of two major investigations, and truckloads of smaller ones like Buffett."

  "I can see where this is going."

  "Unless one of those smaller ones has sparked this off, the odds are that it's one of the two major cases," Shah said.

  "Yep."

  "Of the two major cases, unless we've stumbled across the Ripper who's leaving these people the mental capacity of a cheeseburger – in which case we're screwed because we've no idea what we've stumbled across – it's the other investigation."

  "Kotian."

  "Kotian," Shah agreed.

  "It's a little paranoid, isn't it Pete, to put everything down to Kotian?"

  "Maybe," Shah agreed. "Or you could look at it like I have, that very little happens in this boro without his involvement, even if it's just getting commission for working his patch. Look at the odds. If you look past me, then it's more likely to do with a major than a minor case. And of the two major cases, which one is more likely? The investigation where we know who the suspect is, or the one where we don't?"

  "Let's assume your idea will fly. We still can't do anything about it. IA's leading the investigation, not us."

  "It's absolutely right that they should lead the investigation into the murder of Aurora Debonis," Shah said for the benefit of their eyepieces. "We just carry on working on Kotian."

  "Uh-uh," Marietetski said. "Van Doorn was very specific. You're working the small cases. It's hands-off checking out Kotian for the time being."

  "Of course, sir."

  "Hey, man, I'm only doing as I'm told."

  "I understand," Shah said. "I wouldn't dream of approaching anyone connected with our local Mr Big…"

  "At least in my capacity as a cop," Shah said a half hour after his shift had ended. "Nothing to stop me paying a visit to a friend of my co-husband, is there?" He held the glass door of the Bellwether Institute open. "Who has a new sponsor. Who just happens to be…"

  "You are so out of order." Marietetski grinned. "Van Doorn's going to seriously fry my ass if anyone complains."

  "Why should Erokij complain?" They strode across a cavernous lobby, which with its paintings and discreetly placed view-screens was more like a vast upmarket art gallery than a research center. "We were passing on our way to the bar, and thought we'd stop by."

  "Given where I live," Marietetski said with a chuckle, "that'd be the longest detour ever." He sniffed. "Something in here smells nice."

  "It's called potpourri, or something." Shah pretended bewilderment. "You don't like eau-de-chemical, like at the station?"

  "Bleach makes my eyes water. Though I suppose it's better than the piss and puke it covers up." Marietetski touched Shah's arm. "What's this professor's connection to Kotian?"

  "As far as we can see, none. Kotian may be laundering his money through Tosada's research, or it might be his legit money he's spending on it." Shah chuckled. "Yeah, I believe that Kotian's gone legit as much as you do."

  "Might be a first step."

  "Nah, there's an angle, somewhere."

  They finally reached a marble-effect reception desk. Shah flashed his badge, eliciting the usual smirk from Marietetski. "Officers Shah and Marietetski for Professor Tosada."

  The receptionist, a burly man in his mid-forties who Shah thought he recognized as an ex-cop, nodded. He dialed a number, announced them, and passed them temporary badges. "Professor Tosada said someone will be down in a few minutes, officers. If you'd like to take a seat until then…" He waved at some low chairs clustered around an equally low table.

  "Thanks," Marietetski said. "We'll stand. Been sat on our asses all day."

  The receptionist flashed them an I'm-not-interested smile.

  Several minutes later a man appeared from behind a paintingdotted partition. Shah watched Marietetski study the newcomer. His colleague would know Tosada from the news channels, of course, but in the flesh he appeared less like a photographic negative; in person the pockmarks marring his jet-black skin were more pronounced, while his mane of fashionably cut hair was less blinding white than dishwash-gray. But his epicanthicfolded eyes were so dark that they looked black as well. "Pervez!" He cried in those accent-free tones familiar to anyone who was interested in popular science. "How are you?"

  "Hey Erokij. We was on a visit. Thought we'd see if you wanted a coffee."

  "Alas." Tosada looked regretful.

  Before he could continue Shah said, as if only just realizing, "Oh, let me introduce John Marietetski, a fan of yours. Ever since he found out I knew you, he's driven me nuts to introduce you to him."

  Marietetski caught Shah's wink and looked suitably overawed. "It's an honor, Professor." He stretched out a hand. "I hope that we're not calling at an inconvenient time."

  Tosada made a resigned gesture as they shook hands; it was clear that their visit was ill-tim
ed, but the researcher didn't feel able to say so.

  Shah had said on the way over, "He is such a sucker for flattery. He knows it himself, even laughs about it – but you get more from buttering the guy up than quizzing him."

  Shah said, "Are we going to live forever, Erokij? Come on man, I'm running outta time here!"

  Tosada laughed. "I've almost as much incentive as you in making the breakthrough."

  Marietetski said, "I guess we've intruded, Professor. We should let you get on."

  "Nonsense," Tosada snorted, falling for the reverse psychology. "I can spare a few minutes for my favorite ignorant flatfoot." He added quickly, "That's him, by the way," head nudging toward Shah.

  Shah roared with laughter. "You've changed your tune since we first met! John, this guy wouldn't give me the time of day when we first met – till he found out who my co-husband was!"

  "But that's the whole point, Pervez." Tosada leaned forward, the pedagogue unable to resist lecturing even now, adjusting his trademark gold cufflinks, smoothing with his finger the pinstripes of his suit, checking his reflection in a handilyplaced mirror. "A man should be judged by the company he keeps. That's what social networking is!"

  "That's how he knows Kotian," Shah had explained on the way over. "So I've been cultivating him, and I guess Kotian's been encouraging him to do the same."

  As Shah and Tosada continued bantering along the reception space, Marietetski checked his eyepiece; Erokij Tosada. Born Brooklyn April 9th 1985, educated Harvard, Research Professor of Biomedical Gerontology at CCNY. Height 1.75 meters. Father Japanese, Mother Nigerian – he cut the link when he realized he'd missed something.

  "–population bell-curve isn't slowing down as predicated, so they fear we can't afford so many more mouths – hence these latest regrettable maneuvers."

  "Well, let's hope it works out for you," Shah said. "Though till the treatments deliver, it looks a high-risk investment, whatever the long-term profit."

  "Maybe." Tosada glanced toward Marietetski. "But there are intermediate benefits – every decade that we can extend longevity at peak physical and mental condition generates spin-offs for everyone from athletes to – maybe, who knows – interstellar voyagers."

  Marietetski almost groaned aloud. "Haven't we got enough challenges on Earth, Professor? Without squandering resources we don't have–"

  "John," Shah warned.

  But Tosada smiled beatifically at the thought of an audience. "I'm amazed a man born in a country whose embracing of Manifest Destiny is almost religious should take such a blinkered view. Think of all those resources!" Tosada pointed skywards, but before he could continue his eyepiece chimed an incoming call. "Hello? One moment please, I have visitors." He paused almost imperceptibly. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I'm afraid I must take this call. Perhaps we could continue our conversation another time?" He shook hands two-handed with Shah, then, "John, I look forward to locking intellectual antlers with you again, soon." Tosada turned, only speaking when he was about a dozen paces away.

  Shah couldn't make out the conversation. "I'll bet you a dollar to a new yuan that that's Kotian. Washington's getting twitchy about the fallout from paying to extend lifespans at such a sensitive time. Tosada hinted a couple of weeks ago that the next Federal Budget will see cutbacks."

  "To him?"

  "And our wages."

  "Hardly surprising. The interest on our National Debt's bigger than our entire national budget."

  "Yeah, but we'll slip back into the Dark Ages if we don't keep Government functioning. That can't be in Peking's interest, however much the Meccans might cheer."

  "Yeah, I'm sure Sacramento will write another aid check," Marietetski scoffed. The USA was effectively subsisting on the charity of foreigners, especially since California's secession and Washington's subsequent abortive attempt to retake the world's newest republic. Only Asian pressure had stopped the invasion before it got too bloody.

  "Whether or not they do, Tosada needs funds to continue, John. I dunno what Kotian's angle is, but there's one somewhere. If our friendly ganglord is going to pick up Tosada's funding shortfall, then judging by all the 'rents' those shops in Midtown pay for Kotian's help, he'll want a big, big payback." As they exited the Institute, Shah added. "We need to find out what that angle is, whether it's one of Kotian's legit fronts, or part of his real business."

  X

  Tuesday

  The next morning Marietetski was a few minutes early, arriving in an office as near empty as it ever got. Still a thin figure sat at his desk, staring at his screen. "Jeez, Pete," Marietetski said, "You shit in the bed or something?"

  "Couldn't sleep." Shah looked up. Dark rings circled his eyes. "No cracks about guilty consciences, heh?"

  "Never dreamed of it." Marietetski held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. The twitching corner of his mouth told a different story. "How's life with Doug and Leslyn?" Marietetski could guess why Shah was in work so early.

  Shah shrugged. "Doug's as big pain in the ass as ever. He'll never change. If I'd known how big a pain in the ass he'd be, I'd have objected when Leslyn asked to bring him into the marriage. But at the time it didn't seem such a big deal. He made her happy, I wanted to still have access to the kids and we couldn't afford a divorce – legal fees alone woulda killed us."

  "You could always stay with us–" as soon as he said it, Marietetski knew it was a mistake.

  Shah seemed to realize it too. "Nah, you need to keep your space – that's really where we gone wrong. We'd never have been able to afford our place before the Dieback, but we still need somewhere bigger. But we can't afford it. If Doug and I didn't have to spend so much time and effort not getting in each other's hair, maybe we wouldn't resent each other so much, but I certainly can't afford to move out." Shah pushed his chair back, signaling that the subject was closed. "I'll get the sludge. You been buying for days now."

  As Shah walked to the coffee machine, Marietetski called. "What ya bin doing?"

  "Watching Tosada play the morning news. 'Essential we extend human lifespan. Valuable resources being wasted,' blah, blah. All the stuff he rehearsed on us last night."

  Marietetski stood looking at the screen. "Guy looks better in the news conferences. Must've airbrushed him. His looks can't have hurt his media career – distinctive, isn't he?"

  "Yeah. But looks aren't everything. He knows his stuff and he can talk about it." Shah returned, bearing cups in each hand. "I don't get why a businessman officially specializing in importing luxury spices and taxi-pods from India and renovating and restoring classic second-millennium cars wants to get involved in Tosada's research. Unless he's laundering."

  "Maybe we're looking at this wrong." Marietetski chewed his lip. "What if it's not profit behind this? What if it's just personal – he's doing it cause he wants to live forever?"

  "Nah," Shah said, ticking off his fingers: "Drugs, prostitution, protection. Guy does nothing but it turns a profit. Don't go sentimentalizing him. He might wear the sharp suits, but he's still lowlife. There's a link somewhere."

  "I'm not sentimentalizing anyone, Pete. If Kotian wants to live forever, that's just another form of greed." Marietetski sipped his coffee. "Let's not let Kotian and Tosada distract us. The cap will be chasing us up about the case-solve rate if we're not careful."

  "Cleared three this morning: Reunited 'stolen' eyepiece with its owner after it was handed in – left in a cab. Tied fingerprints on a burglary to a juvie released last week. And found Harlan Buffett's uncle in rural Ohio. We'll ship him over there later today. Buffett's uncle isn't happy, but we should get him off our books as soon as possible."

  "You finally learning to play the numbers game?"

  Shah's refusal to concentrate on easy solves to increase his solve rates was legendary. He shrugged. "Without clearance I can only work the low-priority cases." He wasn't happy, but before the conversation could degenerate into an argument, his new eyepiece chimed. "Hey!" He began a conversation which Mariet
etski didn't try to follow. Instead the younger man focused on his own work, only looking up at Shah's triumphant "Hah!"

  "Good news?" Marietetski said.

  "Couple of guys I know moved across to the FBI – or what's left of it. They've agreed to cross-check their databanks on the girl as a favor."

  Marietetski stared. "You. Are. Kidding. Me." His voice rose: "Are you crazy?"

  "Easy, easy, John."

  "Easy, nothing!" Marietetski yelled. Heads turned, and he lowered his voice; "You want to get suspended, fine, but you will not take me down with you 'cause you haven't got the sense to stay away from a case under IA's control. How many damned alarms you think going off as soon as your buddies look at her files?"