He had poured through terabytes of information, analyzing every scrap of data his own people had accumulated, Rix's reports, news feeds, even links to obscure social networking sites. He had used every software option at his disposal to break down the security camera feeds and identify the enemies who had violated his people. He hijacked every available database that could help in his search, using the full powers of Open Sky's secure network, along with assorted special programs developed by his associates.
And so his potential enemies fell away one by one, until he was left with a single foe.
Vinicius Cunha.
As he had narrowed the list of suspects down to Cunha, he started to assemble a picture of the man. A particularly vicious bastard. Probably rigged with every physical Modification available. A leader, in a primitive sense of leadership, like the alpha male in a pack of wild animals.
He stared at the few images of the man he had uncovered. Murderer, enjoy your last days of freedom.
His mind drifted to the funeral for Venway, which had been shattering beyond belief. He had known Allen Venway longer than any of his other associates, and Allen's wife was a good friend. They had been able to suppress the news of Venway's death for a couple days, but there was no way to keep his loss a secret for long. In addition to their grieving, they had to deal with all the questions from intrusive media outlets. It was to be expected, however. Venway had been an extraordinary man.
All of the remaining six of his special associates had joined Rohm at the service. It had been a security risk for them to all gather in one place, he knew, but they could not allow themselves to be cowed by statistical dangers. They would never meet their goals if they hid under rocks. Eventually they would have to come forth and explain to the world all the things that could now be accomplished. The leadership they intended to provide would require courage and resolve. Better to get used to the idea now.
He shook his head and returned his focus to Cunha. Rohm was still not precisely sure what Cunha's organization hoped to achieve with the stolen technology. The mystery troubled him. Obviously Cunha was trying to build an empire that controlled the distribution of Modifications. He apparently believed he had a market for even exotic Modifications with little general application.
The radiation treatment should have no street value. What have I overlooked?
Rohm decided to return to this aspect of the assault against him later. Following Cunha's capture, these questions would be answered. He sat back and reflected on his next move.
He really should contact Rix and let him know of his discovery. And he would, of course… eventually. But he had also been thinking of the punishment he planned for Cunha. It would take some time to implement. Why not wait awhile longer and see if Rix would identify the assailant on his own? It would be a good test of his competence. And besides, identifying the man was one thing. Capturing him was another. Rohm had naturally dealt with the Brazilian government in the course of establishing Open Sky's far-flung network. They were a particularly proud bunch at the moment. Reveling in their new status as a prominent global power, they would never extradite one of their own, especially not to some territorial government, and certainly not to a private company. He would need Rix's team to execute Cunha's capture. Somehow.
He would speak with the man soon. But for now, he would focus his energies on Cunha's ultimate punishment. Everything must be in order.
He sent orders flowing through the link at the base of his skull. He inserted a new orbital position for the latest of Open Sky's satellites.
He recalled the Alamogordo Sunrise to earth orbit, without posting a new mission plan. That would raise a few eyebrows, he knew. To maintain profitability, the ships had to maintain constant schedules between earth and the mining operations on the asteroids. His chief of operations would have many questions. Let him ask. Not for the first time, he felt relief that he had kept Open Sky a private company, with no Board of Directors or shareholders to answer to for these extraordinary moves.
Yes, many livelihoods depended on the company. But Rohm had built Open Sky on the strength of his will and the quality of his ideas. The company would serve him.
The true mission plan he saved to a secure server that only he could access. Rohm would tell his special associates of his plans soon enough. He anticipated little disagreement.
Vinicius, your execution will be unlike any other in human history. I promise you that.
12
KC turned away from the large E-Thing display screen and rubbed her eyes. It was 3 a.m, and she was still in her office above the bar. She was actually looking forward to a little shut-eye, which was rare for her. But tonight her usual two hours of sleep would be welcome.
In her spare time over the last couple of days she had been researching the leads and material Rix had given her. Earlier in the evening she had paid a visit to the Modified gym where Rix had bounced around the red men, and had made some discreet inquiries. Hardly anybody had felt like talking, but she found that even their non-answers and evasions had value.
After following leads and hunches to their logical ends, she believed she had a good short list. In fact, she felt sure that one of the people on her list was behind the Open Sky deaths. Some of the people were high-profile movers, some were quite a bit more furtive in their activities, but all had the capabilities. And it was plausible, at least, that they had motivation.
There was the ASA Special Security Bureau, with its grudge against lost territories and paranoia of new technologies that could potentially be used against them. There was the Russo-Mexican organized crime alliance that had earned a brutal reputation while extorting money from major corporations around the globe. There was that Brazilian mobster trying to form his own personal Modification cartel.
All of these people were very good at concealing their movements around the globe, but, well. There are always witnesses, always gaps. Always somebody posting a surprise photo somewhere. Total privacy was a thing of the past.
The Brazilian mobster was a strong candidate. She found a couple of public images of him and ran them through her facial recognition software, and then compared them with the security camera images of the assailants. Their faces were altered or concealed, but still… In the Forward Aeronautics massacre, there was no hiding the bulk of that one man's physique. And he was obviously the leader.
KC leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, trying to corral all the possibilities. She was lost in thought when she heard a soft scratching at the door.
She turned and saw that her waitress Tigerfly was peeking through the cracked opening.
"KC? Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, little tiger. Come in."
The girl slipped inside the room. Her head was down, strands of hair covering her face, but she had obviously been crying.
She walked over and dropped down into the chair across from KC's desk. The desk lamp threw harsh shadows across the young woman's tiger-pattern tattoos. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. KC noticed her claw implants digging into her soft flesh. Tigerfly's cat's-eye optics glowed softly.
KC really hated to admit it, but she had a soft spot for the animal kids. Leave it to teenagers to embrace the kind of Modifications that would irritate adults the most. She had witnessed firsthand the insults hurled at the animal kids when they walked down the street in public, in daylight. Even a pretty girl like Tigerfly couldn't avoid that. She had shown up at the Night Owl Pub one night, desperation in her eyes, pleading for a job. KC had never asked her directly, but always figured the girl's parents probably went crazy when she came home one day with tiger stripe tattoos. Fortunately, she had been smart enough to avoid getting the facial reconstruction. And the tail.
It seemed to KC that the animal kids wasted an enormous amount of money on ridiculously impractical Modifications, but still she sympathized. The way the kids were abused reminded her of how she had been treated when some of her
own proclivities had begun to manifest themselves in her youth. She didn't like to sleep, which drove her family crazy. She liked men — a lot, with all the complications that implied. And she had a bit of the huntress in her, which was a difficult itch to scratch until she channeled her ambitions into archery competitions. Her Air Force assignment of hunting down renegade MIs had been one of the best gigs of her life, except for taking all the orders. It amused her that she was doing the same thing now, even though she was the queen of her own little business empire.
KC watched the girl huddled on the chair, eyes fixed on the wall behind her. She waited for her to say something, but the girl couldn't seem to pull herself together.
"What's the matter, Tigerfly?"
It was several more seconds before the girl could bring herself to speak. Finally, she looked up and said "One of my friends was killed yesterday."
"Oh, Tiger, I'm so sorry. Was it a close friend? What happened?"
"I didn't know him real well. I only messaged with him on forums and AniMod networks. But he was kind of a, I dunno, leader for the AniMod kids…."
She paused a moment, choking back a sob.
"Anyway, he was always the one discovering new animal-look Modifications, and was always the first to try them. He always posted a lot of information about the safest places to go, all over the world, for all the implants and grafts, and which places to avoid. I learned about which were the best feline optics from him."
"How did he die?" KC quietly asked.
"He was murdered," Tigerfly whispered, dropping her face into her hands.
"Oh, baby. That's so sad. Do the police have any leads on who did it?"
She looked up, a puzzled look on her face. "Police? I don't know. He doesn't — didn't — live around here. He's from Brazil."
KC said nothing. Good Lord, more Brazilians, she reflected. A brief memory raced across her mind, of her father once joking that the entire country used to be known solely for Carnaval. "Now everything new comes out of there," he had said ruefully.
Tigerfly crossed her arms on KC's desk and laid her head down on them, looking toward the darkened window on her right. "It was horrible. I saw the pictures of the bodies. You couldn't even recognize him except for his tats. And they laid the bodies out in this weird pattern…."
KC raised an eyebrow.
"A weird pattern? Howso?"
"It's like, like, the killers were trying to spell out a word, or make some kinda symbol. That's just sick. Really sick."
"Yes it is, Tigerfly."
KC watched as the girl started shaking, her body convulsing with soft sobs.
"So is this pretty widely known? I'm sorry, but I don't follow the AniMod forums…,"
"Oh, KC, it's everywhere. Everyone is talking about it. I can't get away from it. It's being talked about on all the sites. Every AniMod followed what Julio had to say. No one can believe he's gone."
"I'm so sorry about this, my little tiger. Do you need today off?"
She raised her head and wiped her eyes. "No. I need something to do. I don't want to just sit around and think about it all day." She looked around. "I know it's the middle of the night. But I figured you'd be up. I'm sorry if I disturbed you."
"You know you are welcome anytime. Hey, I gotta look out for my girls."
"Well, now that I'm here, do you have any chores that need doing? You don't have to put me on the clock. I just need something to do to get my mind off this."
"Sure, honey. We got a couple cases of pint glasses from that brewery in New San Antonio. We just stuck them in the cooler when they were delivered yesterday. Can you wash them and get them on the shelves for tonight? That would be a big help."
Tigerfly stood up and nodded, a grateful look on her face. She turned around and shuffled out of the office.
KC listened to Tigerfly walk down the stairs, then got up, walked over and locked the door. She turned back to the large screen for her E-Thing. Well, this is a morbid undertaking, she told herself as she input a variety of search terms for the animal kid's murder. The way Tigerfly had described the placing of the bodies sounded sickeningly familiar…
It took just moments to call up various underground reports on the killing and reactions from the followers of "Julio the Lion." It only took a couple minutes more to find video of the bodies.
KC watched, repulsed. The mangled corpses were arranged in an unmistakable fashion — exactly as the bodies at the Forward Aeronautics massacre had been.
She checked the location, although she knew before it even displayed which city would be named. She shook her head. In your own hometown, is it? Well, Mr. Cunha. You're quite the bloody barbarian, aren't you?
13
Rix listened to KC's rundown of her research, and the results. She sounded uncharacteristically tired. Rix tried to remember, but could not recall a time when KC did not have that certain playful vibrancy in her voice.
"KC, were you up all night?"
"A couple nights. New territory even for me."
"Well, don't go crazy on us. We need you fresh for your undercover bikini assignment."
She coughed out a surprised laugh. "You wish."
"That's more like it," Rix said. "Now. I think you're on the right track. Can you drill down a little deeper, and gather more evidence?"
"Oh yes. I have an entire array of new sources to pump," she said. "The ultimate problem is, how do we get this guy? I don't speak Portuguese, and I don't relish the idea of extracting a guy like this from South America. He's probably got more bodyguards than I have waitresses."
Rix was silent for a moment. "So you say this Cunha has a network in North America?"
"Definitely. I don't believe he made a special trip from Brazil to conduct the Forward Aeronautics raid. I think he was already in the area and jumped on the opportunity to get his people back. Now that I've been tracking this guy, there have been several sightings of him in Texas and in the Pacific States as well. A guy like that can't pass completely unnoticed."
"And he has a monopoly on the street trade in Mods?"
"Some of them. That's the scuttlebutt."
"Jeez, KC. I'm losing a step. I can't believe I haven't heard of this guy. I thought I had the Mod traffic figured out."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think this bulldog just jumped the fence into our yard pretty recently. That's what the few people who would talk about it tell me. And there's no record of Cunha ever being in the Texas Republic or affiliated territories until a few months ago."
Rix was quiet for a moment, contemplating the possibilities.
"I want to explore a lead. Nothing might come of it. But why don't you come down to New San Antonio in case things get exciting?"
"Ok. I'll leave my number one girl in charge of the bar."
"And KC? Bring your special tools."
****
Rix sat back, watching the dust particles drift through the beam of sunlight leaking through the curtains. He let a silent moment pass. He had to conduct his conversations with Jake slowly, to avoid pressing the man beyond his meager allotment of strength.
They had been discussing the South Americans who had supplied him with the faulty nanobots. It had required some coaxing for Jake to reveal more about these people, but as he spoke Rix grew increasing convinced that this was a direct connection to Cunha's organization. New guys from South America, pushing aside independent suppliers, strong-arming buyers into a single sales channel — all the pieces fit.
Rix turned back to his bed-ridden friend. Now comes the hard part, he told himself with a sigh.
"Jake, I know you don't want any more trouble, but I need you to help me set up a meeting with these people."
Jake turned his head, focusing on Rix's eyes. "I really can't do much of anything, Rix. I don't think they would talk with me anyway. They gotta know what happened to me. They'd be suspicious."
"I know. But I need you to get your manager at the gym — what's his name? Carlos? — to con
tact these guys on my behalf. Help get me a meeting with them, and I'll handle the rest."
Jake was silent.
"There's no clean way out of this, Jake. The people who sold you the defective nanobots won't hesitate to dump more toxic Modifications on the market if they can make some silver. And now they've got a toehold in your gym. You're a customer. They aren't going to walk away willingly. Yeah, you've turned the business over to Carlos to run, and don't really look too closely at what he does. But I'm telling you, I think the guy at the other end of your supply chain is the same guy I'm looking for, the guy who's left a trail of bodies that would stretch from Dallas to Austin. I need to find a way to get in his face, and your little network is the quickest way in I can see."
"Jeez, you're a hardass, Rix."
Rix smiled. "You stubborn Yankee, you can at least admit it would feel good to see the guy who poisoned you take a fall."
Focus returned to Jake's eyes. "Yeah, that would make me feel better. Ok, go talk to Carlos. I'll tell him to help you out."
"Thanks, Jake."
"And Rix? Take this guy down hard, ok?"
"Definitely. In the meantime, I want you and Cathy to go stay with friends or family for a few days."
"Mmm? You think that's necessary?"
"Probably not. But this guy has proven himself to be about as brutal as they come. Let's not leave anything to chance."
"Great," Jake said with a grimace.
"One more thing. Your gym is insured, right?"
****
They arrived in New San Antonio that night, first Big Fella, then KC. Marie served San Antonio-style Mexican food that was not easily found north of the city, and they spent a relatively quiet evening in Rix's above-garage quarters drinking beer and reviewing the next day's plan.
They kicked around several alternative scenarios, but Rix's straightforward, if theatrical, idea ultimately won the day. Marie had been the last to sign on.
Connor Rix Chronicles 1: Rules of Force Page 10