by Mel Odom
I remained silent, trying to sort through all the emotions that ran rampant inside me. That was another of the reasons I didn't like the Matrix much: it put nearly everything down on a tactile level. Or maybe that was just because Peg got everything that way and my experiences were filtered through hers.
"I keep an eye on you." Brynnmawr said. "I can't see everything, my boy, so don't worry about that. But I know about some things, like the message drop I used tonight. You haven't changed much, you know."
"I've changed, sir." I argued, keeping my tone light, but needing to say it all the same.
"Only your frame of reference." Brynnmawr accused. "You're still the boy I remember. Why else do you insist only on taking shadowruns that are on the side of what you consider to be of moral good?"
>Because.< Peg put in, >you're basically a good chummer doing a dirty biz. If we didn't do the work we do, a lot more people would be in more trouble than we found them in.< I didn't say anything to either of them. They both had their opinions, and I didn't agree with cither's assessment. I was what I was, what I'd spent all of my life learning to be. I knew where my boundaries were, what I would and wouldn't do.
"When you were younger." Brynnmawr admitted, "I used that idealism that is so ingrained in you to my advantage. Do you know what you are, Argent?"
He'd never called me by my given name since he'd renamed me Argent. I sometimes wondered if he'd forgotten it. I returned his level gaze and kept my mouth shut.
"You're a believer." he declared. "Maybe one of the last true believers I've ever met in my life. You believed in me. You believed in the work that I had you doing. You believed you could make a difference in all the cruel injustice that I set you up against day after day. And when you found out I was lying to you, you still believed you could make that difference. That's why you betrayed me."
If I'd been under my own power instead of lodged there in Peg's persona, I'd have walked away from him then. I felt a pressure on my chest back in the real world, suddenly aware of my meat body.
"Follow me only a little longer." Brynnmawr said. He turned and continued down the paths through the graveyard.
When I wanted to do nothing more than walk away from him, Peg got us in step with him. I didn't trust my voice to speak with her, and I needed to wait to find out what had happened to Andi.
"They never trusted me after you left quite the way they had before." Brynnmawr said. His voice sounded suddenly old and hollow. "I continued with my caseload and taking charge of field assignments for years. Ironically, I was relieved of duty the same year you lost your team mates."
"This has nothing to do with why I'm here, sir." No way did I want to discuss Toshi and Hawk with him.
They were a part of my history, not his.
"It has everything to do with it." he snapped, growing impatient with me. "The trouble that Sencio's in isn't simple or she wouldn't have contacted me. You can't afford to be at any less than your best if you go to help her."
"I haven't said that I would yet, sir. Like I said, things have changed."
"Not that about you, Argent. Never that. You'll never stop believing in the things you believe in."
"I think you're wrong about that, sir." I said, maybe a little more harshly than I intended. "Once I believed in you. Now I don't."
His left eye flickered just a tick, but he never broke eye contact with me. "But you're here, aren't you, my boy?" he asked softly.
"Only for a short time, sir. If you want to continue playing cat-and-mouse games, I'll find Andi on my own." I called out silently to Peg. >Get ready to get us out of here.<
>Say the word. This guy really creeps me out.<
"We're a lot alike now, you and I." Brynnmawr said. "After your betrayal, I couldn't trust anyone the way I'd trusted you. I gave you much more of myself than I'd intended. And when you walked away, there was quite a lot I didn't get back."
"That went for both of us, sir."
He shook his head. "Not true. You had your friends. I had no one."
"Sir." I said, "you chose that life."
"Not hardly, my boy. I feel that it chose me." Brynnmawr gestured to the graveyard around him. "This is my prison. My body is failing me, but they insist on keeping me alive. Too many of them are afraid that the secrets I know will come tumbling out of the hiding places where
I've stored them." He waved at the gravesites. "Do you know what lies buried in these?"
"No, sir."
He grinned, baring the white shark's grin. "My sins." he answered. "Memories of everything I'd ever done. Atrocities piled upon atrocities. And every now and again when I walk through this prison they've left me in, one of those atrocities will rise up out of the grave and try to kill me."
>Oh drek.< Peg whispered. >They've trapped him in here with this ?< She sounded like she couldn't believe it. I did; I knew some of the people Brynnmawr had been responsible to.
"They also make me hungry, part of the programming, you see, to remind me that I am not king of my own castle anymore." Reaching up, he plucked a pecan from the branch above him, then held it out for me to inspect.
Even in the moonlight, I could see that it looked like an ordinary pecan, paper-shelled and slightly bigger and longer than my thumb.
"Think about it, my boy." Brynnmawr said. "Think about where the roots of these pecan trees grow."
I did think about it, and I forced myself to be cold about it. Peg made retching noises inside my head.
"Those roots dig down into those graves." he went on, "and they suck out everything inside to make these nuts. All the dead that I laid to rest, or caused to be laid to rest. With the programming in this place, I have to eat the pecans." His voice broke. "I'm feeding on my own sins here, and I can't stop."
"What can I do?" I asked.
He looked at me strangely, then broke into laughter, convulsing so hard that he had to sit down on one of the grave markers. "See, Argent, you haven't changed at all. You still believe that you can do something about everything."
I didn't know how to take his reaction, so I remained quiet.
>He's insane.< Peg stated. >But you can't blame him.<
"Don't you see how humorous this all is?" Brynnmawr asked. "I'm trapped in this prison because I believed I could do anything I wanted, and you're trapped by your own fears after losing Toshi and Hawk.
I'm afraid to die, and you're afraid to live."
"I live just fine, sir." I told him.
"And you work alone." Brynnmawr said, "except for that bedridden slitch that feeds off your heart and legs."
>That son-of-a-slitch.< Peg grated.
"I'm leaving now, sir." I told him. "I've taken all of this I intend to."
"Go." Brynnmawr said. "But you ask yourself who else could have told it to you like this, to your face?
You've got to put those dead men behind you, get back to being what you were before it gets you flatlined.
If you're not ready for this, I'm sending you to your death. Believe it or not, my boy, but I don't want any more of your blood on my hands."
"Where can I find Andi?"
Brynnmawr pushed himself up from the grave marker and dusted off his suit. "She's set up a contact with a Mr. Johnson in CalFree State. In Los Angeles. A simsense tavern down in East Hollywood called Lookers. He'll have all the details you need."
"How do I find him?"
"He'll find you. Sencio gave him a holo of you, and a password. She said you'd know it when you hear it."
"Thank you, sir."
He looked at me. "You're going, aren't you?"
"I don't see that I have a choice, sir. She asked."
"Even though the two of you haven't seen each other in years."
"Yes, sir."
"Do you realize how dit-brained that is?"
"You relayed the message, sir." I pointed out. "That possibly isn't one of the safest moves you've made."
"No, but my jailers are quite protective." He crossed over to me and put a ha
nd on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, my boy, and if you should get the chance—" He stopped speaking.
"Yes, sir?" I inquired.
"Nothing." he said gruffly. "Just don't get your fragging hoop spiked while you're out there. I taught you better than that. Don't be a drekking embarrassment to me." Without another word, he turned and walked away, threading his way through the gravestones.
>Get us out of here.< I told Peg.
She pressed the concealed panicbutton in her hand. My senses blurred as we shot through the airspace above the graveyard, the markers dwindling down to black pinpoints behind us.
"If you're going after this Sencio person." she said as we skidded along one of the Matrix's gridlines and came out of the East Coast Stock Exchange without being noticed by the security IC, "maybe you should tell me about her."
"I'll think about it." I replied, knowing her statement revealed that she hadn't found out a single fact about Andi. If that was the case, if Andi had conducted her biz so well, I knew the problems she'd be facing would be large, nasty ones.
END UPLOAD
13
At the other end of the satellite uplink beaming into Clay Ironaxe's Phaeton limousine, Shikei Nakatomi sat at the big desk Ironaxe had come to associate with the Fuchi Asia CEO. He was smooth and elegant, round-faced, with his black and silver hair carefully combed back. His narrow black tie was knotted precisely. Behind him was a holo of a cherry tree in full bloom.
"Ironaxe-san." Nakatomi stated in his precise English, "please pardon the interruption I have caused. I know it is quite late there. I was hoping to make the job of tracking down your betrayer somewhat easier."
"I have the woman's name now." Only a few days ago, Nakatomi had given Ironaxe the information about the team of shadowrunners operating inside LegacyTrax. Despite that, Ironaxe knew the man had held onto the information for longer than that. Maybe even long enough to have made a difference.
"Hai. As do we. Only moments ago, we discovered her identity as well: Andrea Louise Sencio."
Ironaxe forced himself to remain poker-faced. "I'm listening."
"Very good." Nakatomi nodded happily. "As you know, I have recently made some business commitments to Renraku."
Four million shares of Renraku wasn't what Ironaxe would have called a commitment; it was more like a blood oath. Using that much liquid capital to buy up the shares back in April must have tapped the Fuchi Asian banks for a time. Perhaps the corp was still reeling from the effects. Anytime liquid assets were used up, it impacted directly on research and development, the area where most liquid capital was spent, and was demanded. Not many people wanted to buy into or finance a maybe, and Ironaxe knew that first-hand.
"Without going into detail concerning your internal security problems." Nakatomi went on, "I contacted some of the sec chiefs in Renraku and sent them a holo of the woman." Sencio, if that was her name, and her team had been caught on security cams while fleeing the Legacy-Trax offices. The sec cam footage had immediately been impounded by Ironaxe's sec teams. Evidently Nakatomi had a decker who'd gotten to them. "The Renraku security staff confirmed three of the shadowrunners' identities. The other two men worked with Sencio in sensitive areas for Renraku over five years ago."
"But they weren't working for Renraku when they hit the mainframes at LegacyTrax." Bearstalker sneered.
"No." Nakatomi remained quiet after he gave his answer. His eyes remained locked on Ironaxe's.
Ironaxe knew full well that Nakatomi wasn't above lying. "What have you found out about her?" he asked.
"She was with the military at one point." Nakatomi went on. "During another part of her career, it has been confirmed that she worked for Richard Villiers during the Desert Wars."
"That tie is damning." Ironaxe said. "Because if she worked for Villiers at that time, it also means she was working for Fuchi. And you."
"I had no contact with her."
"Can you prove that?" Bearstalker asked.
"Unfortunately, no. I have only my word to offer you."
"And that's worth about as much as a degaussed cred-stick." Bearstalker said harshly.
"Agreed." Nakatomi's voice reflected no rancor.
Ironaxe was impressed by the man's restraint.
"There is, however." Nakatomi went on, "one more chit that I have to offer. Earlier today, Sencio and her people were able to get a message out of Albuquerque. I'm sure you were aware of it."
"Yes." Ironaxe admitted. Their taps on the Pueblo LTGs had spotted the illegal message blasting through the grids the moment it was released.
"One is beyond my reach, having arrived at a satellite in geosynchronous orbit with the earth that I can't get to. My people were successful in tracking the second to California Free State." Nakatomi leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied with himself. "You'll find that Richard Villiers has been duplicitous with you. I've only treated you fairly. Your business means much to me. I've taken the liberty of ordering a team into the area. When they apprehend the person or persons who are in receipt of this message, I'll be happy to turn them over to you. As you know, Amerindians aren't always welcome in Cal-Free. And I do have teams already inside the nation. I could have them moving in a couple hours if you will allow me."
What Nakatomi said was true, and Ironaxe knew it. When the NAN had split away, splintering the North American countries and states, then had kicked out all the non-natives at gunpoint, they'd made no friends in the other nations. Also, he didn't have a team ready for insertion into CalFree.
"I'd like them alive if I can get them." Ironaxe said finally, knowing there was no way to keep Nakatomi out of the mix. Watching the man's actions might help, though.
"It shall be done." The uplink broke and the commlink vid faded to black.
"So who do you trust? Villiers or Nakatomi?" Bear-stalker asked.
Ironaxe relaxed in the plush seat as the Phaeton shot up the ramp leading them to Highway 47. "Neither. But both will have stories to tell as they war against each other. In that confusion, the truth will come out. And when I find out who betrayed me, they'll come to know true regret." It was a promise he meant to keep. No one threatened what was his and lived.
14
Argent booked a seat on one of the evening suborbitals from Sea-Tac International Airport and landed at Long Beach International in California Free State before 10 p.m. In order to get the security clearances he needed to get through the airport enforcement arm with all his cyberware, Peg set up an interview with Affiliated Artists for the next day, leaving him today free to make the meet with the Johnson at Lookers.
The interview regarding Affiliated Artists was legitimate. One of the execs at the media studios had been trying to contract Argent for a shadowrun over the last three weeks. The run entailed "freeing" a talent from AA's rival, Amalgamated Studios. The talent happened to be a dwarf named Klingsteidt who was quickly becoming one of the best F/X guys in the biz. AA was currently experiencing a boom in the simflick industry, involving real life actors doing their own stunts instead of simsense reproductions. In fact, three current productions had a body count attached to them that was boosting ticket sales.
The contact person at AA had no problem arranging free passes for Argent and the two people he'd hired to come with him. AA was a multi-billion-dollar biz and carried considerable corporate clout in the economic arena. Politicos still liked to rub shoulders with the simstars as well.
Argent passed through the doors of the circular tunnel leading from the suborbital to the airport gate.
He'd gotten no sleep at all after last night's visit to Brynnmawr. Thoughts of Andi Sencio had plagued his mind, memories of how things had been and how they'd gotten to be. And wondering if she was still alive now.
"Mr. Erskine?"
Swiveling his head, Argent spotted a young elfin bottle-green chauffeur's livery holding up a sign that said MR. ERSKINE. "Yes?" Argent said, coming around to square up with the elf. Argent wore a steel-gray Vashon Island busines
s suit, cut stylish but conservative by the local standards. Gray synthleather gloves concealed the cyber-hands. A pair of gray wraparound Corona "Private Eye" Computer Display glasses completed the look and gave him access to the computer datafeed Peg could provide over the glasses and the commlink chipped inside his head. His deltaware commlink had an add-on spur that allowed him to jack it into the Coronas for Peg's use.
Passersby kept on their appointed paths, chatting and hurrying to their destinations. Out in the center of the long corridor connecting the gates, moving sidewalks rolled steadily in either direction, passing the shops that lined both sides.
"Mr. Hornberg sent me." the young elf said. "From the studio. He thought maybe you'd appreciate the use of a car while you're with us."
"Do you have identification?" Argent asked.
The elf hesitated, seemingly caught off-guard by the question. He reached into his jacket and brought out a credstick. "Sure. Here."
Argent took the credstick and crossed over to the ticket booth. While he slotted the stick into the public reader/transfer system, Argent also accessed his headlink and called Peg. She was there even before the transfer/reader had time to bring up a reply. "Run Shamura, Tobin. Get back to me." He spelled the name, speaking quietly, then added the SIN.
Shamura took his credstick back and pocketed it uncertainly. "Is everything all right?"
"I'd like to see the car." Argent said.
"Sure, Mr. Erskine."
Argent fell in a half-step behind the nervous chauffeur and opened another channel on the commlink.
The bright lights of a Stuffer Shack blazed out into the dimmer recesses of the airport corridor. "Beedle." he said, calling for one of the two-member team he'd hired in Everett that morning. The pair cost plenty, but they were worth it. And they'd arrived in CalFree on the same flight so they could provide security for him, as well as handle the meet with the Mr. Johnson later.
"Here." Beedle's voice croaked over the commlink.
"Talk to me." Argent kept his gaze sweeping the corridor ahead of him. With its crowds and constant movement, he knew from experience that an airport was a good place for an assassination as long as the wetware specialist kept a low profile. And a weapon didn't have to be anything high-tech. He'd once known an assassin who'd only had one finger augmented, turning it into a dart pistol that held one shot. That one shot contained cyanide and killed almost instantly. Most of her victims had never met her.