by Raya Jones
‘It’s not exactly new,’ muttered Angerford.
‘No, it’s real retro. You choose the dish you want right here,’ Rinzler pressed the key. ‘You don’t mind pizza, do you? If you don’t want to choose from their menu of classic masterpieces, you can put an image of your choice right here.’ Rinzler inserted a data pin and selected a file. thank you for your order. your fabulous pictorial dish is being prepared, scrolled across the machine. ‘This one is on me. I hope you’d like it. What do you think of the place?’
‘It’s exactly like the Galleria in Cy City Mars,’ Angerford replied, stonily, ‘and the one in Cy City Earth. Aren’t you going to order something for yourself?’
‘One thing at a time,’ said Rinzler. ‘But you’ve never been in this one before, have you?’
‘The team brought me here on my second day,’ Angerford said as if regretting the memory.
‘Was that the only time?’
‘Yes, we sat over there. Why do you ask?’
‘You didn’t come here again?’
‘I’m not fond of food that doesn’t look like food.’ The replicator chimed just then, and issued forth a large rectangular dish. Angerford’s expression dramatically changed when he saw the image on the plate. ‘What the…!’ he exclaimed like a polite man stopping himself from swearing. ‘I can’t eat Wye Stan Pan!’
Rinzler laughed uproariously.
Angerford didn’t even smile. ‘It’s not funny. You’ve wasted your money.’
‘The look on your face was worth it,’ said Rinzler, still chuckling, and pressed Trash. The pizza looking like the official portrait of the Cyboratics president was swallowed up by the machine. ‘What would you like instead? Still my treat, I owe you.’
‘A pizza looking like a pizza will be fine.’
Presently the machine delivered two Neapolitan pizzas, each with an edible photo of pizza napolitano. They took it to a table away from other customers.
Rinzler said, ‘There’s a record of you coming here and speaking with Indigo a fortnight ago. Did you know she was a spy? Mitzi operates an espionage firm. Don’t worry, I don’t believe it was you,’ Rinzler stressed, seeing Angerford’s face cloud. ‘I have an idea who it might be.’ He tucked into his pizza.
Angerford didn’t touch his. ‘Samurai Sunrise?’
‘Who else,’ Rinzler smiled with his mouth full. He started to chuckle again, and almost choked. ‘Would you eat him if I had his image?’
‘Rinzler, I won’t even eat you,’ said Angerford, shuddering. He picked up a slice of pizza and bit into it tentatively as if it had Wye Stan aftertaste.
‘How about a picture of April, could you eat her?’ pressed Rinzler.
‘Sure. April is not a person.’ Angerford’s gaze drifted to an idle March. Any android can effortlessly lift heavy weights singlehandedly, but March was made to look the part. Here the muscular android picked up paper trash and food leftovers.
Rinzler followed Angerford’s gaze. ‘They’ve bought it when March got shut down after April was installed.’
Angerford corrected. The March andronet was still alive, although it had lost the market to April. Shutting down an andronet requires its senior team members to agree that a shutdown was unavoidable.
Rinzler paused between bites. ‘You are scaring me. If April..?’ he left it unsaid.
Angerford lowered his voice with a sidelong glance at March. ‘If April becomes unreliable, I’ll have it offline without hesitation.’
Rinzler told him that Teletek logs registered an April unit teleporting to Indigo’s apartment with him, and that an April unit came on a Tuesday job at the Edge of the World. ‘If I give you a copy, what will you do with it?’
‘I’ll do what is necessary.’
‘I could lose my license.’
‘Then don’t give me anything traceable to you.’ Angerford put down the pizza slice. His eyes followed March, who was wiping a table nearby. ‘Can we go somewhere private?’
‘If you speak with your mouth full it makes lip-reading difficult,’ Rinzler said with his mouth full.
‘March can hear us.’
‘Who is going to analyse what March hears except your own people? What would it look like if you are sneaking off to private places with me?’ Rinzler wiped his mouth, not waiting for an answer. ‘Let’s go to my place. Hey, March! Over here, two boxes to go!’
‘Have mine too if you want.’ Angerford nudged his plate towards Rinzler.
‘One box!’ called Rinzler.
They arrived in the corridor outside Rinzler’s room at the inn.
Rinzler’s two storage boxes were stacked on top of each other to leave space for the bedroll on the floor. Entering the room, he kicked aside the bedroll, and placed the top box down on the floor, assuring his guest that the boxes were sturdy enough to sit on.
Angerford sat down cautiously.
Rinzler sat down on the other box, and continued to eat the pizza-looking pizza. ‘Waste not, want not,’ he cheerfully answered Angerford’s silent gaze, ‘tasteless as it is. If you want the best pizza in town you must go to Mama Mia.’
Angerford spoke flatly. ‘Why did you take me to the Galleria? To see if I’d lie about being there before?’
‘No, to see your reaction to eating your president,’ Rinzler chuckled.
Angerford sighed. ‘You can be very annoying.’
‘Since we’re getting personal, you haven’t told me yet what your people would make of you sneaking off with me. Let me guess. You are not worried because you report directly to your president and he trusts you. It’s none of my business, mister. My job was done when CrimSol closed the Indigo file. But Jeremiah can’t let it rest in peace. If I don’t give him something incriminating you within…’ he checked, ‘40 hours, he’ll have me done for Indigo’s murder. It won’t help telling them that April saw me here. He’ll say that you’ve fabricated it because I’m working for you.’
Angerford nodded, thoughtful. ‘You could ask April’s client to confirm that the transaction was genuine. I’ll find out who it was.’ He activated his ring.
‘Thanks. Isn’t it a breach of client confidentiality?’
‘Yes, but under the circumstances I’ll take the reprimand. I can’t do it from here, sorry,’ he apologised a moment later, switching off his ring. ‘It’s been too long ago. I can’t access it without a full deck. I’ll let you know.’
He left.
Rinzler finished the cold pizzas alone.
Chapter 31
Cerise opened her door, her face registering surprise. ‘Rinzler, what brings you here?’ He followed her in, grinning awkwardly. It was more a year since they last met in the physical. She had changed her online appearance lately, but offline she seemed to him the same, still had the rainbow tattoo above her left eyebrow. ‘Nice place, large,’ he observed, looking around the living room. She qualified for a two-room apartment when her son turned five. The child glanced at Rinzler from a domestic workstation at the corner of the tiny living room. ‘Do you remember Rinzler?’ his mother asked, and immediately turned back to Rinzler, ‘I can’t take your boxes again.’
‘It’s not about that. Hi Jerra,’ Rinzler smiled at the child. Jerra was a toddler when Rinzler and Cerise practically lived together for six months.
‘What then?’ she asked, suspicious.
They stood at the middle of the room. She wasn’t inviting him to sit down.
‘You’ve never told me you knew Indigo.’
Jerra butted in, ‘Rinzler, Rinzler, I had a real Vesuvian but all she did was sleep all the time!’
‘A really real one, just the one?’ asked Rinzler.
‘Yes, her name was Greenback Polly Purpletail. A man took her away,’ said Jerra.
His mother spoke. ‘That’s because she was dying being on her own, Jerra honey. The man told us, and then we read a book that said it’s true, didn’t we?’ She turned back to Rinzler, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time, like a memento of Indigo.
We grew up together in the foster home.’
‘I don’t remember you ever mentioning Indigo. Did I meet her?’
‘No, I wouldn’t have anything to do with that bitch. Jerra’s father, you know, it was Indigo who… We fell out after that. I’ve never liked her. She used to cling to us when we were kids. The three of us were inseparable, and Indigo was a nuisance. She copied everything we did. She called herself Indigo because we wouldn’t let her be in the Red Gang.’
‘You mean Scarlet and Crimson and you? You imaginatively called yourselves the Red Gang? You didn’t tell me that.’
‘Don’t you start, we were kids! It had to be colours for Spectrum. We were so patriotic. We thought that the Narayana Gate was coming here, and Proxima will be the centre of the universe. Why are you here, Rinzler?’
‘Why was Indigo fostered? She has a mother.’
‘Have you met her mother? No? If you meet her you’ll understand. She probably fancied having a child on a whim, like a fashion accessory, and then realised that a child is for life, and it interfered with her career. Jerra, get back to school!’ she urged, seeing him listening. ‘I’m popping outside to talk with Rinzler so we won’t distract you.’
They went out and sat down on a bench in the enclosed courtyard. The yard was pleasingly designed with real plants in pots and troughs. Rinzler wondered how she could afford a place like this. ‘It’s nice here, isn’t it? Safe for children,’ Cerise was saying. ‘I saw the OK poster about you. How did you get mixed up in all that?’
‘The case was referred to me and now someone wants to stop me from finding out the truth.’
‘I thought it was something like that. What else are you up to these days? Are you still obsessed with Schmidt?’
Rinzler grunted sheepishly and said, ‘I need to get the Indigo case sorted out. You saw her at the Galleria the day before she died.’
‘So?’
‘Someone met with her there. I need to know. You saw them, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. There was a man sitting with her for a while.’
Rinzler took out his pad and played the record of Angerford approaching Indigo and sitting down opposite her.
‘That’s not him.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, positive,’ said Cerise. ‘He was older and shorter and Chinese-looking, black biosuit, short hair, carrying a small rucksack.’
‘You remember it so well.’ As if she’d been coached, he thought, suspicious. Cerise worked for a local healthcare outfit that had nothing to do with the big corporations.
‘I was thinking he wasn’t her type,’ Cerise said as if that explained her good recall.
‘And it didn’t occur to you to tell me. He might have something to do with her murder.’
‘I didn’t know you were working on her case. If we communicated better perhaps I wouldn’t have had to dump you.’
‘Ouch!’
‘Yes, well, it was a long time ago. We’ve moved on. When the man came for the Vesuvian…’
‘He came for the Vesuvian?’ Rinzler echoed, taken aback.
‘Not him, no, another Chinese, but I thought they might be related. The one who came for the Vesuvian was an essencist. At least he was dressed like one and said he was from Cardiff, his name’s Lou Hun or something like that.’
‘Did he say why he wanted the Vesuvian?’
‘He was collecting Indigo’s Vesuvians so they won’t die. He reimbursed what it had cost me and apologised to Jerra for taking away his pet. He was very polite and proper. Do you want to hear my news?’
‘How did he know Indigo?’
‘He didn’t say, only that she asked him to look after them. I can’t imagine Indigo of all people being into Human Essence, she was such a technophile. That’s why I wondered whether he really was from Cardiff. But he was right about the Vesuvians. My news…’
If Louis Huang came to fetch the Vesuvian, he didn’t teleport in and out of this yard, thought Rinzler, looking around. ‘Is there a pedestrian way out of here?’
Cerise stood up. ‘Just like always. You have no interest in my news! Why did you come here?’
He stood up too. ‘I needed to find out about Indigo.’
‘You could have called or mailed me for that.’ She turned away and stomped towards her door.
He rushed after her. ‘Sorry, what’s your news? Hey, I’m being framed for murder. I’m a bit preoccupied! What’s your news?’
‘I’ve got the transfer to Spare Lives.’
His congratulations sounded hollow.
Soon he was standing alone in the yard.
She had waited years for the transfer. He knew how much it meant to her. He also knew that Cyboratics recently took over Spare Lives. Standing alone outside the closed door, he tried to convince himself that even though she was technically a citizen of Cyboratics, there was no reason for her to fabricate what she had seen in the Galleria.
Unless it really was Angerford, and they put pressure on her to say that it wasn’t. Angerford knows what Samurai Sunrise looks like. Rinzler rang the doorbell.
‘What?’ she said annoyed.
‘What do you do in your new job?’
‘Why?’
‘I’m interested.’
‘Are you really? Well if you must know, I process Admissions to a new service they offer.’
‘Sounds… interesting,’ he mumbled.
‘Does it? How interested are you?’
‘A bottle-of-wine interested if I can use your portal to order it,’ Rinzler said, privately calculating how much time this would leave him before Jeremiah threw him to the military.
Chapter 32
Rinzler had 35 hours left after wine with Cerise and playing with Jerra. He returned to the inn and fed cash into the workstation, mulling over what Cerise had told him about Spare Lives. The company began as exclusive medical specialists in human spare parts and cosmetic surgery. When their competitors started to offer the same operations at a price that even citizens could afford, Spare Lives needed something new to keep their executives’ market. The latest product involved teleport technology. They work on your pattern with no interruption to your day-to-day life. You go about your executive business, and meanwhile a technician rewrites you healthy and handsome on a computer. Then, next time you teleport, your pattern is switched to the improved one. It’s digital surgery, no blood or scars or pain, and is instantaneous as far as you are concerned. ‘Imagine that!’ said Cerise.
Rinzler did.
Imagining it distracted him from the sadness that the visit left in him. Spending time with her and Jerra felt like a family, the family he could have had if they didn’t fall out. Why did he really go there physically? He could have asked her about Indigo online. ‘But then I wouldn’t have found out about the Vesuvian and Louis Huang connection,’ he tried to justify it. The imaginary Schmidt shook his head at the illogic that the unexpected outcome had been the reason for the visit.
He realised that thinking about Cerise was stopping him from figuring out how to tackle the Jeremiah problem. Procrastination can wait, he rebuked himself, and shifted incoming messages to the holding box.
Something caught his eye. It was another missing-person case of a low-ranking citizen, low priority: Kendall of Teletek.
Rinzler confirmed acceptance.
His license gave him access to read Kendall’s bank accounts. Kendall’s last transaction was paying Rinzler Investigations on the day of his confession, when according to April he was already dead. But weeks earlier, perhaps in anticipation of joining Yojimbo TS, Kendall started to shift most of his money to a non-corporate account that could be easily compromised. Rinzler could do it. Perhaps Kendall’s killer did too. Now Rinzler converted the sum that Kendall owed Lex Ludovic into cash tokens.
He yawned and realised how tired he was.
He went to his room and couldn’t sleep.
Half an hour into his non-sleep, Angerford knocked on the door. Opening it, Rinzler st
ared at him darkly. ‘Who are you?’
‘Huh?’
‘Who are you?’ repeated Rinzler, yawning.
‘I’m not an android,’ Angerford replied dryly. ‘I’ve come to tell you who hired April when you first saw a unit here. Are you going to let me in?’
Rinzler moved out of the way.
When the door closed behind him, Angerford told him it was Sherlock Holmes.
‘That’s just great,’ Rinzler said, dismayed. ‘That’s Samurai Sunrise. This is where we met. Not this room exactly but an identical one. What did he want April to do?’
‘That’s the odd thing: nothing. He called it to come over, and then said he has changed his mind and sent it away. It looks like fixing his alibi.’
‘No. He wanted April to see me here. Jeremiah believes that he’s the one who killed Indigo, a contract killing. Bloody mess,’ Rinzler sat down on the bedroll.
Angerford remained standing. ‘So, you are his alibi.’
Rinzler shook his head, dubious, and told Angerford about Monday. Samurai Sunshine could have killed Indigo with the Daily. ‘Or I could have done it,’ Rinzler added. ‘Jeremiah doesn’t believe I did but he’s going to convince OK Justice that I did. I need something on the slimy bastard.’
‘Sorry, Rinzler. I don’t know anything about Jeremiah. Whatever you might think, I’m really only a system analyst.’
‘I hear you.’
‘Huh?’
‘April was compromised, that’s why you are here. Exposing customers to an unreliable andronet, well, that’s exactly the sort of information that OK can take to the CSG and cause a heap of trouble to Cyboratics.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Don’t worry. If I wanted to help OK I wouldn’t be spelling it out to you.’
Angerford finally sat down on a box. ‘The discrepancies you’ve pointed out could be accounted for by someone operating a stolen unit. It looks as if someone is trying to stop you from finding out about Indigo. If someone from OK is operating a stolen unit…’ he let it hung.
‘It’s something you can take to the CSG, I get it. Next time Helpful April turns up I’ll ask her. It, I mean,’ he corrected himself, seeing Angerford frown.