by Colin Harvey
Whatever was for dinner smelled equally unappealing, so Shah wandered into the darkening evening. A breeze had gathered, bringing with it hints of tropical scents and the promise of a storm. New York had begun to experience a hurricane season of sorts over the last decade, a pale shadow of the brutal monsters that had almost wiped Miami, Daytona and New Orleans off the face of the earth, but still shocking to people more used to snow.
Shah spent a lonely evening nursing dinner and a succession of still waters, before retiring early to bed. At home he sometimes surfed news or drama channels on his eyepiece while lying in bed, but cheap prepaids didn't support such complex functionality, and switching on his own eyepiece risked alerting anyone looking for him. While Shah felt marginally safer among those he'd privately named The Unwanteds, he didn't feel that safe.
Instead he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
Shah had no doubt that compared to the old media, video, audio and abortive ventures into virtual realities –the failure of which had led to burns as the Big New Experience – memory burns were absolutely real. Nonetheless they weren't the same as one's own memories.
So Shah mentally rifled through the downloads he'd been given, or bought off the web. The man who had been so proud of being a Muslim and a cop before 9/11, that wasn't him. Nor was the divorcee meeting Leslyn in Denver; nor even the man so proud of his daughter's birth. They were strangers walled off by time and something else, something intangible.
Shah guessed that the root cause was that part of memory was retained in the nervous system scattered throughout the body – there every thought was 'felt.' Without those receptors nothing he experienced was quite as real as the memories he now had of being with Aurora; the taste of his first ice-cream since the attack; the touch of Leslyn's hand on his face as he awoke; the smell of Doug's vile cigarettes. How does it feel to be a stranger, even to yourself?
Shah thought of the night before, lying in the darkness with Aurora after making love. "Why don't you leave this job?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "It's eating you alive. And you've done it for one lifetime – don't you think that's long enough?"
Shah sighed. "I've no idea what else to do."
Aurora.
Shah hadn't wanted to admit even to himself how much he would miss her. Has she just been a rebound fuck because of ending with Leslyn? It hadn't felt like it. Rather that his meeting Aurora had pushed Leslyn away, for all their supposedly open relationship.
It feels like you're mourning something. The thought came unbidden. Is this grief for the loss of the old memories, for the attack, or for Marietetski's death?
He tried to think of something else. Aurora. But he'd lost her as well.
His grief came from deeper than he would have thought possible, great heaving sobs that threatened to break him apart. Even burying his face in his pillow couldn't completely muffle them.
When he had finished Shah staggered to the bathroom to splash water on his face. The eyes that stared back at him had the same haunted look as he'd seen on almost every other guest's face. He took a glass of water and, putting on the bedside light, sat and stared at his own eyepiece – the proper one. He drained the glass and returned to the bathroom again, drew another glassful of water. Stared in the mirror. "You bloody fool." He wasn't sure which was more foolish – calling her or not calling her. She'll probably have turned hers off as well, if she has any sense.
Shah sat on his bed again, picked up the eyepiece and twirled it between finger and thumb. He got up and moved to the little couch which by its presence was supposed to make this charmless little cubicle a suite. Moving position changed nothing.
He switched on the piece and called Aurora.
Astonishingly, it rang.
Shah hung up, heart pounding. Has this what it's all been about? Is she a lure? He shook his head. Kotian might be clever, powerful, well-informed, but he couldn't predict that accurately what Shah would do. Could he?
Shah wiped his mouth, although it felt desert dry. He mouthed the numbers again.
"H– hello?" Aurora sounded as if she'd just been awoken from a deep sleep.
Shah almost hung up at that moment, and often wondered afterward what might have happened if he had. Instead, at the second, even more hesitant "Hello", he said, "It's me. Pete." Of course, his caller ID would have displayed that already, but she might have thought that someone else was calling on his piece.
"I was dreaming about you," Aurora murmured. "Am I still dreaming?"
"If you are then I am as well. I must be frigging crazy. Though you're no better. What are you doing, leaving the phone on?"
"Hoping you might call. How are you?"
"Lonely. You?"
"The same. I– uh, oh God, Pete – am I doing the right thing? If I stayed–"
"I want to see you. I need one more–"
"Where?"
"Same place as last night. If you're sure?" Shah rested the cold glass against his head, as if it might cool his thoughts.
"I'm sure. When?"
"In thirty minutes. I'll get us a room."
"OK," she said, adding quickly, "I love you," and cut the line.
Telling himself that he was a fool over and over again, Shah dressed quickly. He felt ten years younger. His heart beat a little drum-roll as he grabbed a pair of disposable 'pieces, thinking, too late now.
For a moment he considered calling Kennedy and Levinson and telling them where he was going, but they might try to stop him – worse, they might call Aurora's detail and warn them so that they might stop her.
Instead Shah pulled the door shut quietly. If they hear me, they can follow me all they want, he thought, and set off down the corridor. He took the stairs. It was only three floors down, and walking would be faster than waiting for the single creaking elevator.
Outside it had started to rain, and the temperature had dropped slightly; the first spattering of raindrops was only blood-warm.
Shah set off into the night.
LXVIII
Shah ducked from doorway to doorway to dodge the raindrops, but as the rain grew no heavier quickly gave it up as futile. He took barely ten minutes to reach the hotel he and Aurora had stayed in the night before.
Compared to the Splendide it was palatial, but Shah barely noticed his surroundings, instead concentrating on movement and things that looked out of place. While he checked in he kept looking around, to see if she had arrived, whether he had been followed, or for signs of an ambush. Every shadow, every movement was a potential threat. Shah glared at the night manager who gazed at him with a little too much interest for Shah's liking as he passed Shah the room key. "Am I wearing something of yours?" Shah growled. The guy looked away.
Shah's room was on the eighth floor. He walked down the corridor with an eyepiece in each pocket, one a disposable prepaid, the other his usual one, which rang as he let himself into the room. Aurora's avatar appeared. "I'm down in the lobby."
"Room eight-eleven." Shah wanted to say more but he needed to end the call before anyone could trace him. Besides, she was only two minutes from his arms.
After the slightest of pauses Aurora said, "I'll be right up."
Shah paced the carpet until the tap on the door sent him racing to open it.
Aurora threw her arms around him. Her eyes were tearful as she kissed him, then said, "I know it's stupid, but I kept thinking of you–"
A familiar man's voice said, "You're right, it is stupid."
Shah and Aurora froze.
Kotian emerged from the doorway to what Shah could see now was a connecting door so, with minimal effort, the hotel could turn two singles into a suite. "Nice work Aurora," Kotian said, gun in hand.
Shah cursed himself for not checking what he had assumed was a bathroom.
While Kotian kept his gun trained on them, another man with a high-powered rifle followed Kotian through and took up station by the door to the corridor. Two others eased past Kotian. They grabbed Aurora, dragging her
away.
Shah mouthed, "One one two," to activate his eyepiece. He gazed at her, wondering whether he could see anything that would make him certain one way or the other.
"It's not true!" Aurora cried.
Kotian made a little "it doesn't matter" gesture with his head, never taking his eyes from Shah, who in turn gazed on Kotian. Now that the worst had happened, Shah felt curiously calm, almost zen-like.
"He's messing with you!" Aurora cried. "He has a man in the Department!"
"He probably does," Shah said, wanting to believe her, but unable to be certain.
"I'm sorry it's so crowded in here," Kotian said. "Shirani only had one set of adjoining rooms, so we took one, hoping you might return. But that left you only with this pokey box."
Shirani? Shah thought. That's a Persian name. Damn. I'd have been a little friendlier if I'd known – not that it'd probably have done much good. "Is this where the villain explains everything?" Shah said. Anything that delayed the climax to this little scene was a good thing.
"Sadly for you, no." Kotian told one of his men, "Take his gun."
As the goon – carefully staying out of the rifleman's line of fire – undid Shah's holster, Shah said, "So the question is – what now?"
"Isn't it just?" Kotian said. "Would you believe me if I told you that at the moment I'm not completely sure? So many contingency plans had to be put into effect, with so many variables that there are an almost endless number of ways that this can be played out. Even as we speak, my Communications Director next door is recalling some, sending others out to run interference – do you like how I've mastered some of these sporting analogies?" Kotian leaned forward, no longer smiling. "I'll tell you this much. I'm not going to kill you, Shah. There are worse things than being dead, believe me. Although one never likes to think so while one can draw breath. But once you stop breathing, you stop caring, and that's entirely too little suffering for you. Being alive but bereft of those you love is one of them." He turned to the two men holding Aurora. "Take her away."
Shah's mouth went suddenly dry. Whatever her part in this, he didn't want Aurora hurt. "What'll you do with her?"
"I'll tell you what I'm not going to do, which is to leave her as she is, to testify against me. No, I don't think so. She'll be just as useful as she is now but with her memories wiped and a near-zombie – perhaps more so. I have clientele who like gang-fucks and they like their women pliant." Kotian winked. "Never waste an asset." He lowered his voice. "Maybe I'll send you clips of her every month being asked who you are and having no idea. Or of her happily crawling around on all fours in nothing but a dog collar and lead while giving bukkake parties, all in blissful ignorance of her failed knight in shining armor."
Shah said, "I never realized before what a deeply misogynistic bastard you are."
"You forget I'm a businessman, I like women. But I have lots of clients who don't. The customer is always right." Kotian's eyes glittered. "Don't be fooled by her demure little act. She's an animal in the bedroom – likes to kneel on all fours with her head pulled back by her hair while she takes it up the ass. Don't you, lover?"
Aurora didn't answer, so Shah did. "That's just giving the customer what they want." He added, "You seem to think you can carry on as before." Keep talking, bozo. Your type never know when to shut up. "Aren't you forgetting the warrant for your arrest?"
Kotian's smile never reached his eyes. "Oh, that. The Americans still think they're a superpower. That they only have to snap their fingers and the rest of the world jumps. There's a warrant here, for sure, but do you think their piddling little requests for extradition cut much ice nowadays? Although that's another reason I won't kill you. Add the words 'of a police officer' to murder charges, and some countries suddenly take a very Old Testament view of things. So we'll avoid that." He took a breath. "Anyway, we've wasted a few minutes here, which is more than you're worth." At his nod, the two men marched Aurora through the connecting door. She cried out, but then her voice grew muffled and Shah guessed that they'd clapped a hand over her mouth. He hoped she'd bite the guy's hand to the bone.
Come on, come on, where are you guys? Shah thought. Police response times at this time of night should be less than five minutes – unless Kotian had arranged a diversion.
"I'm going to leave you with Aresh here," Kotian said. "I have some other scores to settle before leaving New York, so I must bid you good night, Officer." Kotian added, "Oh, we've been jamming your piece, so don't expect the cavalry any time soon."
Shah sighed. He hadn't really expected help.
Keeping clear of the line of fire, Kotian removed Shah's eyepiece. "Turn out your pockets." From them Kotian took both eyepieces and ground them underfoot. "There," he said. "Good night!" Kotian called to Aresh, "Remember – don't kill him."
Shah suddenly realized that that didn't preclude Aresh maiming him. Especially as Kotian had repeatedly told the gunman not to kill him in front of witnesses with eyepieces. Shah threw himself across the bed as Aresh fired. A bullet flew past Shah's face, scorching one cheek. He scrabbled for the far side of the bed. Aresh shouted, "Keep still, mo'fucker! How'm I s'posed to wing ya, if ya keep movin'?"
He fired again. Shah screamed, and clutched his leg.
LXIX
Shah tried to crawl under the bed, but Aresh dragged him back by his heels. Shah screamed again. Adrenaline had blocked off much of the pain, until now. It felt as if someone had put a blowtorch to his leg. "It burns," Shah gasped.
"Guess that does it," Aresh said, handing Shah a rough hand-towel. "Pack that on it. Don't move till the am'blance gets here. You comprendez?"
"Yeah," Shah gasped.
Aresh picked up the antique bedside phone. "Shirani. Call an amb'lance in sixty seconds. Don't want this fucker bleeding out."
Moments later the door slammed.
Shah grimaced with the effort of looking up. The room was empty. Good.
Luckily it was a flesh wound; the bullet hadn't nicked an artery or bone – Aresh probably thought he'd done more damage than he had. But it was still bad enough. Shah had once got badly sunburned; another time he'd put his hand on a stove. This was far, far worse. The wound burned as if someone had dipped a tennis ball in the hottest chili sauce imaginable, then shoved it through his leg at high speed. Shah tried to stay calm. The harder he breathed, the more he moved, the faster the wound would bleed. But his eyelids flickered closed, and Shah knew he had to move, or lose consciousness. He dragged himself upright. The towel Aresh had given him was soaked crimson.
The door flew open; two uniformed policemen stood in the doorway, guns trained on Shah. The younger one was shaking badly.
Shah called out his ID number. "I'm alone," he added.
The patrolmen, both young and scared looking waved a paramedic into the room. They kept their guns trained on Shah while the medic examined him, though Shah doubted they could miss the paramedic if they shot at Shah. He mentally tutted the sloppiness of their training – it distracted him from the awful burning.
"It's a through and through." The medic cut away Shah's trouser leg and bandaged the wound. "No arteries or bones hit. I'll give you a shot to ease the pain before these guys take you down to the station."
"I'm not going," Shah said. "I've given you my number, check it"
"No sir," the nearest cop said. "I have to take you in as a witness."
"I'll vouch for him," a glassy-eyed Bailey said from the doorway. She wiped her nose and asked Shah, "What have you been doing?"
Shah started laughing; he couldn't help it. When the laughter ratcheted toward hysteria, the paramedic gripped the skin on Shah's forearm. "Yow!" Shah yelped.
"Don't want you getting hysterical," the paramedic said.
Shah tried to lever himself up right. "I need adrenaline."
The medic shook his head. "No way."
"I need adrenaline," Shah said.
"In your current state it might kill you."
"I'll risk it."
> "It's not your decision–"
"It absolutely is my decision, sonny. The last time I looked it was my body. Gimme the friggin' shot."
"If you insist," the medic said. "Remember, I warned you."
Bailey said from the doorway, where she still leaned, arms folded. "I've recorded it as well. Do it."
The medic grunted acknowledgement and fiddled with a hypo. "This is a combination stimulant and painkiller. You'll feel fine for several hours, then crash and burn. The danger is you'll feel so fine you may do something stupid, and fall flat on your face or do yourself big damage. Maybe both."
Shah looked away from the injection. After a few seconds he started to feel marginally better. He took several deep breaths, then pushed himself up the side of the bed. Sitting on the edge, he looked down, first at his remaining trouser leg, then at the bare wounded leg wrapped in bandages. He grinned at Bailey. "Don't I look a sight?"