Steel, Titanium and Guilt: Just Hunter Books I to III

by Robin Craig

  “What about the day he disappeared? Did he go there? What happened?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know where he went that day. All I know is he went out and didn’t return.”

  “What makes you think he didn’t just leave? Found a woman? Decided he’d had enough of this city?”

  “Well, as I said he was different. Most of the people here have a bit of stuff. Their little bundle of possessions. Most of them need something of their own. And when they leave they take it with them. Heck, they usually take it with them when they’re just walking around town. But Max left that day and left his bundle here, like he usually did in fact. And never came back.”

  “So you were worried, called the police?”

  “Yes. I thought he might have been hurt, maybe lying in some hospital or worse. But that wasn’t it. And he didn’t just fall into the river or something either…”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  She looked at Miriam. “You’ll think I’m crazy, that all this proves is he did leave. But that’s not it at all. You see, I got a message from him a few days later. Said to post his bundle to a drop box in Frisco.”

  Miriam stared at her, surprised. “And you didn’t think to tell the police this?”

  She shrugged. “What for? I’d already spoken to them, they’d already shelved it, and if I told them that they’d bury it even deeper.” She gave Miriam a long look. “And then you wouldn’t be here, would you? I don’t know if you can help Max, or if anyone can now. But at least you’re a chance.”

  Tammy sighed then continued. “But you see, it was a lie. It wasn’t him. I was better off leaving the case at least half alive than letting you cops convince yourselves he’d just run off, to save yourselves the bother of looking. Pardon me.”

  “But why do you think that?”

  “Because we were friends! But there was nothing in the message, not any explanation, not even a goodbye! Just an ‘I’ve left town send my stuff here’ message. Like somebody talking to the doorman. Like somebody tidying up a mess. So,” she leant closer, lowering her voice, “Do you know what I did?”

  “Please tell me.”

  “It was a bit bad of me. Maybe a lot bad. But you see, I was worried about him; I felt rotten, but I knew he’d understand. I… I went through his stuff first. There was an old photo in it, you know, printed on high quality plastic. Looked like a younger version of Max, standing smiling with a woman and a pretty young girl up the top of some skyscraper. Quite wrinkled, as if he’d looked at it a lot, but kept snug and safe in a soft protector. I… crap. I took it out, OK? Kept it. Sent the rest, but not that. And do you know what happened? When he got his package without his precious photo in it?”

  Miriam shook her head, eyes wide.

  “Nothing.”

  Chapter 15 – Party Games

  Miriam again let the car drive her, this time back to her hotel, while she pondered the information. It was certainly suspicious that both missing men had been test subjects for Allied Cybernetics, but she cautioned herself against jumping to conclusions. That the people who had disappeared were in a certain social stratum, and Allied Cybernetics sourced their test subjects from that stratum, was the kind of thing that bred coincidences. There were good and completely independent reasons for both and the overlap could easily be chance.

  However the suspicion wouldn’t release its claws that easily. But what would be their motive? It hardly seemed likely a large corporation would indulge in serial killing. What if it isn’t the corporation, but someone in it? Someone who picks his victims from the test subjects? They must get biographical information on them. They’d know who was unlikely to be missed. The thought made her go cold. Christ! And how many might there be in that case? If it weren’t for a couple of mistakes and an overly imaginative AI, we’d still be none the wiser! And how the hell can we trace who’s doing it? She sighed. She would have to ask Allied Cybernetics for a complete list of who knew what about their test subjects and hope they were feeling cooperative, as a warrant to force them wasn’t likely.

  She thought about Georgie and his headaches, Max and his temporary transformation into some kind of sex god; though Miriam wondered how much of that was infatuation on Tammy’s part. Maybe it was just the best sex she’s ever had, and it’s messing with her memories; or it’s her excuse to herself for breaking the rules. So what if there had been other, worse reactions; maybe even deaths? And Allied Cybernetics was covering it up? But why? This is cutting edge research. They’ll have disclaimers up to their eyeballs, and they certainly have as good a medical backup system as you could ask. A few deaths might embarrass them but they’d spin the medical benefits and probably even be right. Hell, it probably wouldn’t even put a dent in their volunteer numbers, not among these desperate people. Why take the risk of doing something so insanely illegal?

  She shook her head. It didn’t make sense. Still, her course was clear: she’d take the serial killer angle. It might be true, and if it weren’t it would keep her close to Allied Cybernetics in case there really was something murky beneath their shiny laboratories. She would have to be careful though: she didn’t want to spook either Allied Cybernetics or her hypothetical serial killer by acting as if she had any solid evidence, or even any strong suspicions.

  She smiled grimly. It wasn’t as if she actually had either.

  Her car finally returned to its assigned bay and released her. She got out, smoothing her clothes. Well, Miranda, better dress down. We’ve got a party to go to.

  ~~~

  Miriam could feel the throbbing of a beat as she dressed in her party gear in her room at the hostel. Even a woman of her supposed income could afford to look good these days. That will do nicely, she thought as she looked in the mirror. Sexy but not too out there; I might be available but don’t take it for granted: if you want me you’ll have to work for it. She would do a lot for her job and this case, but not sleep with anybody who asked. She wondered what she would do if the right person asked; smiled at the obviousness of the answer. The police weren’t the Vestal Virgins.

  When she walked in to the party, the music was thumping and the lights were flashing, lending a weird life to the moving fantasy images someone had set up on a holographic projector. There were a lot of people she hadn’t seen before; she hadn’t met everyone and no doubt there were plenty of people who weren’t staying here.

  She went up to the bar, bought herself a drink then wandered into the crowd, finally sitting on a bench seat behind a small table. She leant back and surveyed the party, innocently displaying some cleavage like a flower suggesting its availability to a field of bees. She was mainly here to talk to Kyro if he turned up, but she was also interested to find what else she could learn. Soon enough a man ambled over and sat opposite her.

  “This seat taken?” he enquired politely.

  “No, feel free,” she said, sipping her drink and looking him over. Cast your line into the water, see what nibbles.

  He smiled. “Hi. I’m James. Are you staying here or are you a blow-in like me?”

  “I’ve been here a couple of days. How’d you rate an invitation?”

  He smiled again. “I put it down to my rugged looks and raw sexuality. Other people have other theories. I know a guy who knows a guy, basically.”

  She smiled back. “So are you into gaming, like the people who stay here?”

  “A bit, but not hard core like some of you lot. Are you one of those? Comparing me to your favorite well-muscled character?”

  You’re not likely to be much use, I’m afraid. Time to cut back on the flirting. “No, no, I like games too but I’m really just drifting around.”

  “Trying to find yourself?” he asked with his trademark smile.

  “Actually trying to find an old boyfriend. Maybe you know him. Jimmy Dent?”

  The man looked disappointed and frowned. “No, I’m afraid not. What’s wrong with the guy? Not answering the phone? Maybe he’s trying to tell you something?”
>
  “Yeah, maybe. Oh! I’m sorry, there’s someone I know over there. Excuse me! Maybe we’ll bump into each other later.”

  He saluted her with his glass as she left, not trying very hard to hide either his disappointment or his offsetting thought about the number of fish in the sea. She walked through the Hulk and made her way to Georgie, who’d just come in with a couple of guys.

  “Hi Georgie,” she called. “Remember me?”

  He frowned at her as if once more trying to remember when he’d slept with her. Then his eyes cleared. “Oh! Oh yes, the young lady from breakfast. Mary? No! Miranda? Hi! I told you the parties were worth it!”

  “You did indeed. Now I believe I owe you a drink. Stay here, I’ll go get. What’ll you have? And your friends?”

  “Well, that’s uncommonly generous of you, Miranda. Make it a round of Bud.”

  She wended her way back to the bar and returned with a tray of beers and a cocktail for herself. They toasted her health and started chatting about what people chat about at parties. She listened with half an ear, smiling and nodding. Just fertilize the ground, you never know what might sprout. In a lull she whispered in Georgie’s ear, “Hey Georgie, give me a heads-up if you see Kyro, OK?”

  One of Georgie’s friends passed around some pale green pills. Miriam knew what they were: they produced mild euphoria, a small increase in libido and a tendency to giggle at bad jokes. Miriam accepted one and popped it in her mouth. She wasn’t worried. When she went undercover she’d had a microlab inserted under her skin; it could counteract most drugs including this one. It was a very clever design: it let through any initial rush then damped it down to detectable but not disabling levels, allowing her to know how she should react.

  After another ten minutes of somewhat looser conversation in which Miriam learned more than she cared about some topics but nothing of interest, Georgie gave her a gentle nudge in the ribs and pointed across the room with his chin. Miriam saw a large man sporting closely cropped dark hair cut into intriguing mathematical patterns, and knew this must be Kyro.

  “Thanks Georgie, you’re a doll. I owe you another drink. See you later!”

  With that she went up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, took her leave from the group and weaved her way over to Kyro. “Hey!” she called, “Kyro!”

  Unlike Georgie, the eyes Kyro turned on her gave the impression he would not only remember where he’d slept with her but how she’d rated on a scale of one to ten. He looked her up and down, curiously rather than with any intent or hostility, and said. “Hello. I’m afraid you have the advantage of me. I don’t believe we’ve met?”

  She smiled her most disarming smile and shook her head. “That’s right. Georgie told me who you are. My name’s Miranda. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Do I need a reason?” she asked teasingly.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you like girls?”

  “I do. But I’m not so vain as to think you saw me from across the room and, overcome with lust, asked Georgie for a remote introduction. I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t like being played. What do you want?”

  She was taken aback for a moment. “Wow. OK. Fair enough. I’m actually looking for a friend of mine, and I hear you knew him. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”

  “He must be some friend, if you don’t have his number but you’re tracking him through this many degrees of separation.”

  “Maybe I just don’t like a mystery.”

  “Do you or don’t you? Like a mystery?”

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a hard case, Kyro?”

  “All the time. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t like me.”

  She laughed, in a tone that couldn’t decide whether it was delighted or annoyed. “Have they also told you you’re painfully honest?”

  He graced her with a slight smile. “Yes, though usually they use a less complimentary word.”

  She took a deep breath, starting to feel like a novice somehow thrust into a match with an Olympic fencer. “OK. Look, I’m sorry. Most people aren’t as – direct as you. Can we start again? Hi, I’m Miranda,” she said, extending her hand.

  He looked at it as if evaluating its intent or worthiness, or perhaps like it was a suspicious fish proffered by an untrustworthy merchant, and she held her breath. Then he gave another of his faint smiles and extended his hand to grip hers in a firm yet gentle grasp. “I suppose if you’re still standing there you’re either worth knowing or really desperate to find your friend. No promises though.”

  She smiled in her friendliest manner, with no trace of flirting: she knew he’d see straight through it. “Here, this is my friend. Jimmy Dent.” Kyro glanced at the image, then back at her face, waiting. “He told me about this place, invited me to come and meet up with him here. Then I stopped hearing from him. But I was travelling around and decided to turn up around the time I’d mentioned. But he’d gone and nobody seems to know where. I’m worried.”

  “Some of that is true, but not much of it. What are you really after?” What is this guy? A human lie detector? Christ! Or is he bluffing? Shit, maybe he’s got enhanced eyes, can read blood flow or something. I can’t take the risk.

  She blinked at him while those thoughts went through her head, and he just gave another of his slight smiles, this time with an edge of bitterness as if silently commenting, You’re all the same, not an honest bone in your bodies. What lie are you trying to dream up now?

  “Look, Kyro, I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I’m on his side. I need to find him and want to help him. Honestly.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  She blinked at him again. Surely he couldn’t be lying himself, it was too – out of character. So why the rigmarole? He’s playing the same game I am. The truth and nothing but the truth – but not the whole truth.

  “But you know something.”

  He favored her with another of his characteristic almost-smiles. “Perhaps.”

  “Will you help me?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  She frowned, exasperated. She looked around for inspiration. Some of his friends or acquaintances were looking on, amused. Obviously they’d seen Kyro perform before and they were mentally betting on how long it would take before she either fled the scene or screamed in his face.

  “What the hell do you think I can do to him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles!”

  He gave her another almost-smile. “Yes.”

  “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Yes. Perhaps I will answer.”

  “Jimmy was doing work for Allied Cybernetics. I understand you were too? Are you still doing it?”

  This time Kyro looked somewhat surprised, as if he had developed a model of her and for the first time she had done something he hadn’t expected. “Yes. It is interesting work. They have made some remarkable advances.”

  “Did you work on the same things Jimmy did?”

  “Some the same, some different.”

  “Did he ever have any problems with it? Georgie said he had to quit because of headaches. Did Jimmy have anything like that?”

  “If he did, he didn’t tell me. He was still going there the last time I saw him.”

  “So you have no knowledge of where he went or why?”

  “No.”

  He regarded her silently for a moment. “Stay here. I have to go do something. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t follow me.”

  She watched him go until he was lost to sight in the crowd. Then she leant back against the wall, crossed her arms and waited. He might leave me like this all night, which will amuse him and his friends no end. But I doubt he’d ever be that unsubtle.

  In a few minutes, true to his word and her assessment, Kyro re-emerged from the crowd. Miriam stood up straight to meet hi
m. “Kyro.”

  “You’re still here.”

  “You said you’d be back.”

  He blessed her with another half smile, but said nothing.

  “Are you going to tell me anything? I don’t suppose pleading will help?”

  “No.”

  “I asked you two questions.”

  He smiled again, with slightly different shading as if he was starting to enjoy the conversation. “So you did. But no, pleading won’t help. Anyone can plead and it usually means they have nothing to offer. You need to give me some reason to help you. You could offer me sex for information. That might work.”

  She insolently looked him up and down, much as he had when he first met her only more pointedly. “You are interesting person, Kyro, and not unattractive. I am sure there are worse things in life than sex with you. But I’d do it for pleasure, not to weasel information out of you. Especially when ‘might work’ coming from you probably means it won’t.”

  “I might begin to like you, Miranda, or whatever your real name is.”

  “Look, Kyro, the only reason I can give you to help me is to help Jimmy. If he was your friend, help him. Even if he was just an acquaintance, he was a man with friends and family: help him in the name of that. Help me.”

  “What makes you think some drifter like you can help him?”

  Oops. She spread her arms. “At least help me find him!”

  He regarded her silently. “All right. Do you know Jazz? Jacinta? She lives here too.”

  Miriam nodded, puzzled.

  “I got on with Jimmy, but he never confided in me. But he had a good friend, another gamer who did testing for Allied Cybernetics, a fellow called Majid. I think Jimmy told him something, because when he disappeared Majid started looking very worried, and he disappeared too a day or so later.”

  “How does yet another person disappearing help? And what does it have to do with Jacinta?”

  “Because he didn’t just disappear like Jimmy. He was so scared of something that he went into hiding, and Jacinta knows how to find him.”