by Jason Mather
“So, I’m a hypocrite.”
“Aren’t we all? Regardless, I was not going to ask you to do anything illegal, or even anything you haven’t already done.”
“What then?”
“I need a courier.”
Hans laughed at him. “I tried that once, didn’t work out too well for me.”
“You will be as safe as I can make you, and you will be well compensated.”
“So far your version of safe hasn’t worked out too well.”
“You have survived two attempts on your life, both because of me.”
“That’s assuming I believe you.”
“Your choice, there is little I can do but tell you the truth and hope you see it for what it is. You did say you came here to make amends.”
Hans considered, smoked another cigarette, stood up, and paced. He was trying to free himself from this nightmare, but he suspected he was about to get drawn further in. “What’s the job?”
“I need you to retrieve something for me. As a matter of fact, it’s the same item that was lost initially.”
“Where?”
“It is currently being held by a man in Salt Lake City.”
“What kind of man?”
“A very dangerous man. The same man who sent the troops and the assassin.”
“And you want me to retrieve it from him? I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a soldier.”
“You do not have to steal it from him. He has agreed to a deal.”
“Do I need to know anything about the deal?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t tell me. I have a few questions, though.”
“I will answer what I can.”
“Why do I need to go?”
“In your current state, you have a much better chance of avoiding surveillance on the journey, particularly on the way back. And you grew up in the mountains. The trip out can be done by normal means, but the return would best be done on older, less monitored roads.”
“You expecting him to double-cross you?”
“I’m expecting many things. I will keep you as safe as possible, but your anonymity will be your most powerful protection.”
“When would I leave?”
“As soon as possible. “
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
“True. Think on it for a while. When you make a decision, you can let Onyx know. She’ll have all the details.”
“Where will you be?”
“You will not see me again.”
— «» —
It was too quiet to sleep. The bed kept shifting, trying to make him comfortable. He moved to the floor. It was hard, but at least it wasn’t full of insects.
Circumstances were locking down on him. There was no logic in their offer, just half answers and bullshit reasoning. They couldn’t just want him for his anonymity. He’d had his tag removed, sure, but there were plenty of ways to block or spoof a signal. He’d used one himself after getting the procedure. It was the only way to access his money and online assets. Not that there’d been much of either after the surgeon had screwed him over. That’s why he was at the employment office looking for day work in the first place.
Both Onyx and the man calling himself James had spoken as if Hans was the only one who could possibly make this journey. There had to be another reason for sending him; he doubted it was benevolent.
Hans gave up on the floor and walked to the wall to flip on the lights. The case Onyx sent him still held two cigarettes, one less now that he lit up. He walked to the blank viewscreen on the wall, touching it to wake it up. The menu that came up offered no options for watching shows on the city network, not something Hans was much interested in anyway. It looked like mostly room controls, though Hans was surprised to see an option for outside calls.
It was early morning, but Hans called her anyway.
His mother answered on the sixth ring, voice only as usual. She did not sound as if she had been sleeping.
“It’s Hans.”
“You were supposed to call me two days ago.”
“Something came up.”
“Something always comes up with you. Do you know what time it is?”
“You weren’t asleep.”
“No. How are you feeling, Hans?”
“Much better. Everything seems to be working more or less normally.”
“You laying off those cigarettes?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Did you see your sister?”
“Yes.”
“She still out saving the world?”
“Single-handedly.”
“You two make up?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’m not gonna be around much longer to knock your heads together. You’re gonna have to do that yourselves.”
“You’re gonna outlive us both and you know it,” Hans was beginning to feel that might actually be true.
“That’s a cruel thing to say to an old woman. You coming home soon?”
“Soon. Got a few things to take care of here first, then I’ll be on my way.”
“Good. These poor mutts you stuck me with are miserable without you.”
Hans doubted that. His two ten-year-old cocker spaniels, Bogie and Bacall, adored his mother. Probably sitting on her lap as they spoke.
“Give ‘em a scratch from me.”
“You get your ass back here and do it yourself.”
“I will, Mom. Just gotta clear up some obligations.”
“What kind of obligations, yours or theirs?”
“Mine.”
“Good?”
“No.”
“Are you still in trouble?”
“A bit, but it’s my own fault.”
“Greta involved?”
“No, Mom. It’s mine and I have to deal with it. I don’t want her involved.”
“Always gotta do everything your way?”
“Yeah.”
“You finish what you gotta finish and then you come see me.”
“I will, Ma. Love you.”
— «» —
Hans was choking. He had been dreaming of Greta. She was angry about something, wouldn’t tell him what. Time shifted, Greta was choking him, or maybe it was Onyx, he couldn’t tell, the face kept changing. Don’t fight it. Shut your eyes. It’s better this way.
A wet choking sound, weight on his chest, something warm soaking through the blanket pulled on top of him. Panic brought on by claustrophobia caused him to struggle underneath the tight covering. He was making a noise in the back of his throat.
“Hold on a moment,” a female voice said, and the weight was lifted off him. He quickly extracted himself from the soaking blanket, eyesight still bleary and blind. Soft footsteps crossed the room, the lights came on. A naked female body was bleeding onto the tile floor. Blood covered the dress shirt he’d gone to sleep in, caked on his bare legs.
Onyx was crossing back from the light switch, a small, wicked-looking black knife in her hand. She must’ve have just woken, still in what looked like a set of black flannel pajamas, hair mussed.
“You certainly bring interesting circumstances with you, Hans.”
Hans didn’t respond. Lightheaded, nauseous, trying not to pass out.
Onyx knelt next to the body, laying mostly face down on the floor. She put a hand underneath a shoulder and turned it face up. Blood still oozed from a gash on its neck that went nearly ear to ear. The face of the woman at the reception desk.
“H-How…?” Hans managed.
“Building security notified me of unauthorized access to your room. You want a cigarette?”
Hans nodded. She retrieved one from an unseen pocket, placed it between his lips, lit it. She lit one for herself also, and sat back on the floor by the body, examining it as she blew smoke from her nostrils. She frowned and shook her head. “Elena has been my assistant for three years.”
The smoke was bringing Hans’ jangling nerves to a milder vibration. “You
need a better human resources department, lady.” After three attempts on his life, he was almost growing accustomed to it. Not good.
A minute passed with no talking. Hans stared at the ceiling, smoked, trying to block out the visuals. He had to get the blood off.
“Be right back,” he said
“Where are you going?”
“Gonna rinse the blood off.”
He stood, unsure if his legs were going to support him. Once he was certain that his balance would hold him, he made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, wishing there was a lock. Turned the shower up hot and hard, wanting to scour himself raw. The water ran deep red down the drain, then pink, then finally clear. Hans didn’t know how long he stood after that, breathing in steam, exhaling fear. Concentrating on calm, visualizing serenity. It only half worked.
There was a robe lying across the sink. Hans put it on, cinched it tightly, opened the door.
The body still lay on the floor. Onyx had moved to a chair, where she alternated between a cigarette and a glass of vodka, another full glass in front of the chair opposite. Hans sat, considered downing it, took a small sip. He flipped two fingers at her, the universal signal for “you got a cigarette?” She handed one across, along with a lighter. Two puffs, another drink, one more puff. He felt almost human again.
“First dead body?” Onyx asked.
“No. First murder?”
“No.”
“You trusted her?”
“It’s not her.”
“Excuse me?”
“The body isn’t Elena’s.”
“You know something about her body that tells you otherwise?”
“I know that it’s human.”
“Come again?”
“Look for yourself.”
“I’d rather not.”
“You need to see what I saw. It’s important that you understand.”
Hans stood carefully and walked over to the body. She’d come into his room naked to strangle him. Even dead, he could see that the body on the floor was nice. Except there was something off about it. It had no nipples, no pubic hair, no genitals. It looked like real flesh, translucent with veins, freckles, birthmarks. But where it should have had gender characteristics there was just smooth flesh. There was a small swell of breasts completely uninterrupted by anything. She looked like an oversize child’s doll, though she’d certainly bled for real.
“Holy shit. You seen anything like this before?”
“Twice. Both assassins sent after me.”
“Both of ‘em exactly like this?”
“They were male, in appearance. But both lacking what she’s lacking, or at least its equivalent.”
“And you know she wasn’t always like this?”
“Yes.”
“She your lover?”
Onyx didn’t answer right away
“You have no concept of crossing lines, do you, Hans?”
“Not really. I don’t really care if she was or wasn’t. Just want to know you’re sure.”
“No, we were not lovers. She was an employee, and a good acquaintance. The circumstances are incidental, but I can verify that she did not always look that way.”
Hans looked up to the corpse’s face. Two mouths, one grimacing, the other grinning and oozing blood. One eye was mostly closed, the other open. Another pair of pale silver eyes. He did not ask Onyx about this startling coincidence.
“Do you think it’s really her?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then what? A clone?”
“We can almost completely regrow every part of the body, why not the whole body?”
“What controls it?”
“There is a transmitter buried in the chest.”
“How do you know this?”
“Exploration.”
Hans turned to look at her. She held up the knife and smiled at him. “Sharpest blade possible, edge honed down to a point ten atoms across. Goes through bone as easily as anything else.”
He shuddered, and returned to the chair and his drink.
“I saw your boss.”
“Who?”
“Your boss. He came to see me earlier.”
“I don’t have a boss.”
“Called himself James. Had the same color eyes as you.”
“James? That’s what he called himself?”
“Didn’t think it was his real name.”
“I don’t know anyone named James. I don’t have a boss.”
“So, you’re not planning on a trip to Salt Lake City?”
She did a good job at covering the hitch in her breath and eyes. “Actually, I am going to Salt Lake City, and you’re coming with me.”
“That’s what he said. Told me he’d need my anonymity and knowledge of mountain back roads to get the package back.”
She was staring at him with obvious animosity now.
“I don’t know where you got this information, but if you have some source in my organization you would do well to…”
“I told you where I got it. A man calling himself James, same guy who drove me out of the shit yesterday, came here and told me you and I were going to Salt Lake to make a deal with a very dangerous man. Older guy. Had a western twang in the truck, but none when he was in this room.”
“Enough, Mr. Ricker. I’m tired of listening to your bullshit. We should have your file cracked in the morning, and the truth of your occupation and abilities will come to light. Anything you wish to tell me beforehand?”
“I’ve been completely honest with you.”
“We’ll see. In the meantime, get some sleep.”
“In here?”
“You do not wish to share your room with a corpse?” she teased, somewhat unsuccessfully.
“I’d prefer somewhere else.”
She stood and motioned him to follow. They exited the room and entered another a few dozen feet down the hall. The room was identical to his last, sans corpse. Onyx left him without a word. He decided to try the bed again.
CHAPTER 4
Hans sat staring at the woman across the table from him, trying not to bolt from the room.
He’d been woken by a call from Onyx requesting his presence at breakfast. Her requests sounded more like orders. Beefy appeared with clothes, a pair of khakis and a casual button-up shirt, and sturdy shoes that fit. He’d stood there in the room while Hans got dressed, refusing all attempts to engage in conversation. They made their way to the previous day’s boardroom. Hans sat down and waited, wishing he hadn’t smoked his last cigarette.
Then the secretary had come in, plain as day and twice as alive. Hans started and stood, moving to put the table between them. She made no move toward him, gave him a perplexed look, and sat down at the other end. Onyx followed, sat, and also stared at him.
“Is there a problem, Hans?”
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
“Elena? She’s my assistant. Surely you haven’t forgotten her from yesterday.”
“Last night. She was dead. Tried to kill me…”
“A dead woman tried to kill you?”
“No… alive… you killed her…”
“You’re not making any sense. You seem to have had a stressful night. Bad dreams?”
“Fuck you, lady. What the hell is going on?”
“What is going on, Hans, is that we are here to decide if you are who you say you are, and if you will be of any use to me.”
Hans was out of words. He stood and shifted his gaze from Elena to Onyx. His brain felt chewed by too many strange occurrences.
“Please sit down, Hans. Or shall I bring in Lev and have him strap you to a chair?”
Hans continued standing, grinding his molars. Fine, if that’s the way they want to play it. He would show them he couldn’t be rattled that easily. He took a seat as far from Elena as possible.
“Breakfast?” Onyx asked.
“Coffee.”
“Anything to eat?”
�
�Toast,” Hans said, biting out the words as short as he could.
Onyx nodded at Elena, who stood and left the room. Hans flinched slightly as she passed him.
Onyx leaned forward and tapped the table. A screen lit up in front of her and she began reading him the file.
“Hans Joseph Ricker, age thirty-four, son of Patricia and Joseph Ricker. Father a former police officer, now deceased, mother a mountain guide and expert hunter, now retired and living in an unincorporated township formerly known as Glenwood Springs.”
“The people who live there still call it that.” He didn’t like hearing his history coming out of her mouth, but at least whomever had locked his file had not added anything so far.
“Sister is Greta Ricker, commander of the Denver Security forces. Because of her ranking you should be extended an encryption tier of five, though it was actually seven. Still saying you don’t know why?”
“I don’t.”
“Current residence the aforementioned Glenwood Springs. Still live with your mother, Hans?”
“She has a small acreage. I live in one of the houses on her land.”
“Currently unemployed, though you seem to have a wide and varied history of menial jobs. Class five driver’s license, a rarity in this day and age. I don’t have any drivers of that rating. Do you want a job as a chauffeur?”
Hans refused to rise to her baiting, playful though it was.
“Convicted and fined for a string of numerous minor offenses, though none in the last ten years.”
“I had a misspent youth.”
“Didn’t we all? And a small note at the bottom from one Garrison Helton, PhD, a court appointed psychologist, saying that you suffered from severe authority issues, mild narcissism, delusions of grandeur, and, I quote, ‘being one of the most stubborn, disagreeable human beings I have ever met’.”
“That’s a lot of analysis considering all I did was give him the finger and refuse to talk for the three mandated sessions.”
“So, what we have here, Hans, is a file for a pretty much normal man who hates being told what to do and is maybe a little more attached to his mother than normal.”
“You got that from the file?”
“That, and that you called your mother early this morning.”
“You sure I didn’t dream that?”
“I have a recording if you’d like to hear it.”