“Not a damn thing.”
Dorian’s voice woke Kirsten from a fitful nap. The driver’s seat reacted to her change of posture as she sat up and wiped her eyes.
“What?”
“I couldn’t find a damn thing. No trace of them in the building or outside of it. They either took off before we got there, or they never existed. Snooped around a little inside, the good reverend was busy assuring his boys you wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Damn. Yeah, he pretty much threatened to cause a massive PR scandal for us if I didn’t back off. I wish I had enough to go on to call his bluff. What the heck am I gonna tell Father Villera?” She pulled out her NetMini. “Guess I’ll advise him to stay in the church and call me if anything strange happens.”
irsten could not recall the last time she had blushed as hard or as often as she did after walking through the door of Decadenz. Attending the overpriced nightclub was Konstantin’s idea; apparently, he and the owner were friends in the ‘old country.’ With the exception of the security staff, few of the waiters or waitresses wore much, if any, clothing. The ones who did wore clothes made either of leather, steel, or some combination of both―and the garments did not always cover the sensitive spots. She kept her gaze nailed to the floor, allowing Konstantin to guide her through the crowd. Snippets of conversation floated over the techno-warble of music leaking in from the ceiling, giving her the impression any of the staff would be available for a price.
The dress he had given her, via delivery bot an hour before picking her up, amounted to a long strip of black silk wound serpentine around her body. Myofiber strands, the synthetic muscles of cyborgs and dolls, permeated it and let it cling where it needed to cling. She could not help the feeling it would fall off at any second. Given the atmosphere she refused to look at, she wondered if Konstantin had planned for it to come off in a hurry.
That thought did little to bring a natural color back to her face; in fact, she was as red as a fire suppression bot by the time she stumbled over the first step of a spiral staircase. Konstantin steadied her with both hands, unable to contain his laughter at her expression. She opened her mouth to apologize for falling into him, but ducked away with a gasp as a waiter passed by wearing only a leather hood.
Konstantin leaned close, kissing her cheek before whispering. “The upstairs is more refined.”
With one silk-gloved hand clinging to a narrow metal railing, she navigated the tight passage to the second floor. At the end of a short corridor, a pair of stark white nudes, one man and one woman, waited on either side of heavy blood-red curtains. At their approach, the figures reached over and opened them. Kirsten risked enough of a look to register a lack of surface thoughts.
Dolls. She exhaled. That’s a little less awkward.
Inside, the room had a feel more akin to that of a restaurant than a sex club. Red carpet with a pattern of black diamonds covered a space with two dozen tables either round or square, spread at even intervals through the room. Six more nudes sat on pedestals, two on each wall, done up as statues from Greek antiquity. Three men struck athletic poses, while three women held large water jugs on their shoulders. Like the ones in the hall, none had any surface thoughts.
Guess they couldn’t find real people that perfect looking.
Konstantin went to a table on the left side, joining another couple already there. The woman, perhaps in her later twenties, sat absorbed in the contents of her NetMini’s screen. Pale, with long ebon hair, her gradient lipstick darkened from apple-red along the edge to deep crimson where her lips met. The floor-length blue gown was slit open the entire length, held on by a series of decorative silver chains every six inches.
Her companion, much like Konstantin, wore a conventional suit in a dark shade of slate over a plain black shirt and no tie―in contrast to Konstantin’s red ascot. His look of displeasure at his woman’s ignorance of him in favor of a small electronic device broke apart to a glance of hungry appraisal at the sight of Kirsten.
Kirsten studied the latest addition to her collection of high-heeled shoes, a shiny black pair held to her ankles by hand-tied silk ribbons. She found it utterly ridiculous they cost even more than the automatic pair capable of slithering around her legs on their own. However, the feeling of them tightening on had passed her threshold of creepy; a tentacle winding around her leg―no matter what it was made from―was too much.
“Is this the girl you’ve told us so much about, Konnie?”
Kirsten looked up at the familiar tone in the woman’s voice. Her awkwardness at wearing a revealing garment in a place like this evaporated, replaced with jealousy. When she realized she stared across a small table at Trinity Barber, holovid star, her friend the Monarch returned. Kirsten held her stomach, forcing a stupid smile.
“Oh, heavens, Konnie… She looks like she’s just come off a shuttle from some hayseed colony.” The woman fanned herself, making a haughty high-society laugh Kirsten loathed. “I don’t think she’s going to be interested in joining us. Is she even old enough to drink?”
Konstantin shot the actress the hardest stare Kirsten had ever seen him make at anyone. “She is not for sharing.”
Trinity leaned back with a gasp, before she leaned in and purred, “Finally found one to keep, Konnie? Is this one even eighteen yet?”
Kirsten stared. Not only did an instant dislike for this woman form at the sound of her privileged laugh, the repeated use of ‘Konnie’ came off as belittling. She was about to blurt when the light changed, brightening at her side.
A thin woman, in a black halter top, miniskirt, and knee-high boots approached, smiling at everyone. She introduced herself as June before taking drink orders. Kirsten asked for iced tea.
“You’re adorable,” said Trinity, wearing a plastic smile. “Where did you find this one, Konnie.”
Fortunately, Kirsten’s new shoes were shiny enough to offer her something to stare into. She amused herself for a few minutes wondering whatever became of Brian/Armando. This place felt strange; none of the other guests reacted at all to the presence of a well-known actress despite most of the world, even the ACC, knowing her name. Entire GlobeNet sites existed devoted to debating her true age. Some said she was over a hundred, a brain in a doll body. Others figured she was the latest in a series of clones, while others argued she existed only as a digital entity. Something had to be up, the woman looked to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, yet she had been in vids for at least fifty years.
Obviously, she’s real.
A third man swooped in, standing between Konstantin and the other as-yet-to-be-introduced man. He looked older, a rough fifty or healthy later sixty, and was short but stocky. He had a whimsical gleam in his eyes, but had an air about him that suggested he had been on the wrong end of war more than once in his life. Like Trinity, he ignored Trinity’s date and chatted with Konstantin in animated Russian.
“I’m Michael,” said the other man, making a slight bow. “Kleenex.”
“Michael Kleenex?” asked Kirsten, a trace of a giggle in her voice. “What a unique name.”
“Oh, no.” He smiled. “I mean, I am a Kleenex. Or, at least as long-lived as one.” He smirked at Trinity. “She’ll wipe her nose with me in a day or two and move on to someone else. Just a body to keep her arm warm tonight.”
Trinity rolled her eyes.
She’s paying him more attention than I thought. “Sorry to hear that, but you know how these people are.” Kirsten faked a gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry; did I say that out loud?”
“Missing your dirt ball already, sweetie?” Trinity narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to last too long in the city, I’m afraid. Tell me, how did you get into film? Anal or oral?”
You’re about to find out why the world is terrified of psionics. Kirsten’s knuckles whitened as she clasped the E-90 through the purse in her lap. “I’m not an actress; I don’t work on my back.”
Venom hung in the air between the women. Kirsten could not recall e
ver disliking someone as much so soon after meeting them, possibly excepting Lucian Talbot. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot; I’m with the police, I met Konstantin during a case.”
“Oh.” Trinity stiffened, giving Konstantin a disbelieving look. “A police woman. I suppose the night will be rather dull after all.”
Even without peeking at Trinity’s surface thoughts, Kirsten could tell the woman was annoyed at him for wasting his time on a peasant. She contemplated a telekinetic nudge of a wine glass, but decided against it. Instead, she studied her shoes again.
Michael, at least, seemed amused by Trinity backing down from a verbal sparring match. The rugged man departed after offering the table a warm smile and bow. He did not bother to introduce himself to Kirsten, and the others appeared to know who he was already.
“Alexi owns this place,” said Konstantin in a whisper. “We were in the same unit a few years ago.”
“You were in the army?” asked Kirsten, raising an eyebrow.
“Indeed.” He took a sip from a drink which glowed green. She did not want to know what the opaque blue blobs floating in it were. “It is not like they give people much choice over there.”
“I thought executives were exempt.”
Konstantin chuckled, the mirth glimmering in his eyes made her forget all about Trinity and the mortifying surroundings. “I was not born wealthy. What I have now is the product of hard work, luck, and being in the right place at the right moment. A little obscure knowledge also helps.”
She squinted at him. Does that woman really expect all four of us will wind up in bed later?
Konstantin’s coughing fit put all eyes in the room on him. He held up a hand as if to indicate he was fine and patted his chest a few times. “I had some wild moments in my younger days.” He leaned in close and kissed the side of her neck. “Since I’ve met you, I need no one else.”
The warmth from his face washed around her neck and ran down her spine, riding a faint tremble into her lap. She held his hand and gave him an adoring stare that lasted until June returned with their entrees. The food had been better at Toko, but he’d come here to meet his friend more than for their cuisine.
“What did you discuss with Alexi?” She slid a fork into the inch-thick perfect square of swordfish on her plate.
“Just business. He and I trade stock tips. The UCF frowns on such things, calls it ‘insider trading’, but don’t worry. All of that is going on back in Europe. It is an expected part of business there.”
As if challenging her date’s self-evaluation of being as wanted as a tissue, Trinity fell into an airheaded conversation with Michael. She made the occasional remark to Konstantin about one of her films, or something she wanted him to donate money to, but as far as the actress was concerned, Kirsten no longer existed.
The feeling was mutual.
“Have you made arrangements tonight?” asked Konstantin. “I would very much like to you accompany me home this evening. You’ve been quite elusive.” He winked.
Kirsten smiled. “Evan’s at Nila’s. He’s expecting to spend the night.”
“Excellent.”
Here I go again. Is this another military ration? Do I really love him? I know he wants me in bed, but do I want me in bed with him? She studied the ridge of his chin, the ‘I shaved a day ago’ discoloration that lent an irresistible toughness to him. Her inner debate waned; doubt was a balloon losing air, spiraling into the dark recess of her mind. Kirsten felt happy until Trinity made a comment about her face resembling an orphan puppy wanting a home.
I think I liked silver shoes better. She stared at the billowing black bows behind each ankle formed by the silk ties. I hope I don’t have to run in these. I am going to break my damn neck.
The ring of her NetMini almost shocked her out of the seat. Nila’s holographic head appeared in midair over the table. “Hey, Kirsten, Is everything all right? Evan just had spaz moment. Insisted I call you and make sure you were okay. Oh my God, is that Trinity Barber?”
The actress grinned and waved at the hologram.
So damn fake.
“Yeah, Konstantin knows her.” I wonder if they had sex. She’s done it with him, hasn’t she? She’s trying to do it now. She wants to take him away from the little peasant girl he loves.
Trinity screamed as her wine glass leapt into her lap, and continued screaming all the way to the ladies’ room. Kirsten’s telekinesis was too weak to cause her feet to collide and trip her, though she tried. Michael assumed he had swatted it by accident, as the peak of Kirsten’s jealousy occurred while he was reaching for the peppershaker in the middle of the table. Konstantin’s eyes were sharper; he gave Kirsten a soothing look and rubbed her thigh under the table. A consoling rub, not the rub she actually wanted.
“What just happened?” asked Nila.
Kirsten squinted at the muted yelling behind the door. “Spilled wine, nothing.”
“Well, she’s going to be in there until a bot brings a new gown.” Michael leaned back, expecting a lengthy wait.
Evan’s face slid up under Nila’s chin. He smiled at Kirsten. “Hi, Mom.”
She forgot all about Trinity; every bit of jealousy vanished. “Hey, sweetie. I’m fine. Just having dinner.”
He nodded, making a sad, apologetic frown. “Sorry, I got scared.”
“ Oh, Evan, you don’t have to feel sorry for being worried about me.” She blew a kiss at him. He caught it with his hand and pasted it onto his cheek.
“Sorry for butting in to your date. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Nila hung up.
“Please don’t mind him, he’s…”
“It’s fine,” said Konstantin. “A boy his age is bound to have some issues with jealousy. We can move at any pace he is comfortable with.”
Her NetMini rang again before she could get it into the purse.
“Oh, what the hell now?”
Tech Hollings appeared when she answered the call. “Kirsten? Can I talk to you?”
“Sure, hold on a sec.” Kirsten stood. “I’ll be right back, this is work. Need some privacy.” Kirsten took one step toward the bathroom and hesitated at the continued screaming.
Konstantin pointed at a row of ornate red doors along the wall opposite the entry stairs. Kirsten nodded, scurrying as fast as she felt balanced on the new heels. Having wide silk bows on each ankle felt strange and girly―she almost liked it. She picked the fourth door at random and found it locked. The next one opened, and she ducked into a dark space. Her knee bumped something soft that felt like a chair, and she sat on the edge. The hologram of Tech Hollings made the swaths of exposed skin on Kirsten’s body glow.
“What the hell are you wearing? How is it even staying on?”
Kirsten turned red again. “It’s powered. Myofiber. What did you need?”
“Another body was found an hour ago. Someone went out of their way to hide this one. It got found in a lowest level of a parking garage in a grey zone. It was total luck we found it. Couple of Joyboys carjacked a suit from Sector 300 and used his vehicle for about a half hour before ditching it. Recovery crew went in after it; found it parked on a bag that stank to high hell.”
“Lovely.”
Reacting to Kirsten’s word, the room lit up with rose-colored light. She found herself seated on the point of a heart-shaped cushion, just big enough for an amorous couple. The headboard glimmered with an assortment of metal restraints, and a panel on the wall held other things, some indelicately obvious in their purpose while others looked frightening. Kirsten did not know exactly what the strange things were, though the implication of their general function was evident.
“Whoa. Holy shit, Kirsten… I mean, Agent Wren. You looked so… umm… wholesome. Where the hell are you?”
Kirsten froze, she wanted to crawl into a black hole and leave reality. All she managed to reply with was a hoarse squeak.
“Guess you had no idea where you were either.” Tech Hollings laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.
You can’t fake that kind of embarrassment.”
No longer wanting to touch the thing she sat on, Kirsten sprang upright. She didn’t want to make contact with anything in here.
“I… had no idea.”
“Don’t sweat it; you should give some of those things a whirl sometime if you’re bored. Anna talked me into playing with some toys a year or so ago, glad she did. Anyway, the second body had the same black eyes as the one we called you in on. Same withering, though it was decayed. I put the time of death at least two weeks ago. He is in the lab now being checked out. You’re gonna love this next part.”
“What?” No matter which way she turned, something she was ashamed to look at was right in front of her. Wow, I really am Norma Jean… whatever the hell that means.
“According to his ImDent, his name was Carlos Rosa. He was the Deputy Director of Security for the West City Municipal Complex.”
Kirsten squinted. “That’s too much of a coincidence. I have to check out that body. Can you get me in there?”
“I should be able to.”
“ Thanks.” Kirsten cut the call and leapt at the door, all too eager to be out of that room. Head spinning, she got back to her seat and fell into it. “I―”
“Have to go?” Konstantin offered, smiling.
Now it’s me faking the call and running from dinner, but it’s not fake. “A body was found. I need to check it out. It’s bothering me.”
“I’m sure bodies bother most people in your line of work. Was there something ‘special’ about it that has Division Zero’s interest up?”
She leaned on her elbow, making doe-eyes at him for a moment. “Well, the body seemed aged too much, and the sclera were black. Also, there was no ghost wondering what happened.”
“Does every dead body have a wayward ghost next to it?” He tilted his head back.
“No, some move on right away, but usually in the case of naked people found dead in alleys―they have questions. There’s more though.” She leaned back, letting her arms dangle limp in her lap. “This guy was high up the food chain in security at the Municipal Complex, but there was no mention of his death or that he was missing on the NewsNet. Also, the trade commissioner’s office is at that complex.”
Division Zero: Thrall Page 14