by Andrew Gates
“Yes. What is it? Is it serious?” Iris responded bluntly.
“I was just calling to let you know that your work is no longer needed. I will no longer require your research. Our deal is done. You have no further reason to contact me.”
And with those words, she ended the call. Iris stood there staring at the screen in confusion as her mom crazily pranced around the room shouting, “Ignore me!”
“Mom, shut the fuck up!” Iris shouted. Her mom threw her hands into the air and stomped off into the bathroom like a grouchy child. Is this what it feels like to be Tracey Saljov? Iris wondered, excited by her use of vocabulary.
Iris tried to piece everything together right now. Her head was still spinning, dizzy from her crying. Why would Trace’s name be in the news? Why would Dr. Parnel no longer need my service? She looked up at the bathroom door and then back at her pod again. She gasped.
They found him, Iris realized. They found him and they know I helped him.
Iris had not run this fast since the mantis ripped through her hallway. She gasped for breath with each step. Her clothes were covered in sweat and her legs felt stiff.
Iris was almost sure she was running into a trap, but that did not slow her down. If there was even the slightest chance that she could save Trace, she would do it. If he gets caught, I get caught. We need each other.
She hated how much she depended on him. Trace had been a nuisance since he’d arrived, but a necessary nuisance. She would not have been safe this long without him. But now she feared that none of them would be safe. The uncertainty was unbearable.
When she finally reached her residential sector, the halls were relatively quiet. There was nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary.
Iris slowed down and proceeded cautiously, checking around each corner before continuing. Yet once again, there was nothing. Even when she reached her front door, things seemed to be normal.
She pressed her ear to the door. She could hear faint laughing inside.
Iris wasted no more time. She opened the door and entered as fast as she could. Trace was calmly sitting on the couch, looking at a video on her spare pod. She slammed the door shut.
“Trace!” she yelled, not knowing what else to say.
The man looked at her with a concerned expression.
“Iris, what’s wrong? Why are you so sweaty?”
“I thought…” Iris did not know what to say. “I thought… are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Iris held her head and slid back against the closed door until she was sitting on the floor. She took a deep breath.
“You’re fine,” she said to herself.
Trace stood up and walked towards her.
“Did you think something happened?”
Iris nodded.
“Your name is public now. And Parnel cut me from her operation.”
“What could that mean?” he asked.
Iris undid her hair and took another deep breath.
“Well,” she said, “you’re fine. So if nothing happened to you, then that means something must have happened to Parnel.”
THEY SAY THE END ALWAYS comes before you’re ready. I feel ready. I’ve felt ready. So why hasn’t the end come yet?
Tracey felt the weight of the loaded gun in his hand. Heavy, he thought, good thing it’s in the right hands. He tucked it into his inside jacket pocket after checking to make sure that it was in working order. There was no sense carrying a weapon that didn’t work.
It had been two weeks since the UBEs attacked the station, or mantises, as Iris had taken to calling them. In that time, Tracey had gone from a hopeless fugitive without a home, to a protector with a family and a purpose. At times, he could hardly believe it. Iris had given him so much more than he imagined possible.
Tracey stood up and pressed his hands against his tired face. He could hear someone fumbling with the front door. He stood at attention as the door slowly opened. Iris and Dan came walking through, both with smiling faces. They’re always smiling with each other. Don’t they have another emotion?
“Trace, you look like you’re ready to leave!” Iris said as she entered. Dan nodded suspiciously towards him and walked behind the kitchen counter. Tracey knew that Dan did not have a high opinion of him. Whenever they were together, the teacher’s glances showed nothing but disdain.
“Yes, I was going to head out.”
Iris seemed surprised by this answer.
“Is that a good idea?” she asked.
Tracey shrugged.
“You and Dan are here. You can watch Ophelia. She’s in the bathroom now. I’ve been here all day. I’d like to get out for a while,” he explained.
Today was the first day they had tried their new plan. Ophelia and Tracey stayed at home during the day while Iris was out teaching. Now that she returned home, she would spend her evenings going over the lessons with Ophelia. Dan and his brother would occasionally help out too. All of them were teachers. As much as Tracey loved this new plan, he needed to get out. And by get out, I mean visit the colored zones and maybe buy some real goddamn food while I’m at it.
“Okay, well don’t get caught. You had me terrified on Monday,” Iris responded.
Tracey nodded. He knew the risk.
Two days earlier, Iris had panicked, worried that Tracey was caught by the whitecoats. Not only had his name been publicly revealed, but their mutual acquaintance had terminated Iris’s services. Tracey had no explanation for either event but he had certainly not been found by the whitecoats. Or else I’d have suffered the same fate as Baltir.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve stayed hidden this long,” Tracey explained, trying to reassure his nervous host.
“I know,” Iris replied, “but your name is public now. Just watch out. If you go down… well, if you go down, we all go down.”
“I know.”
Dan glared at him, not saying a word.
Tracey wanted to say something snarky to him but decided to hold his tongue. Iris has helped me every step of the way. Pissing off Dan will only piss her off too.
“Be careful,” she said again.
He felt the pistol in his pocket.
“I know,” he repeated. He turned towards the bathroom door. “Ophelia, I’m heading out. I’ll be back later!” he exclaimed.
“Okay.”
Tracey left the residence feeling confident that Iris and Ophelia would be safe with Dan. He kept his jacket collar raised high as he walked through the halls. When people passed by looking at him, he did not look back, nor did he look away. He knew it was best to be unattached, neither conspicuous nor inconspicuous. His shaved head seemed to help hide his identity too. The descriptions posted on the Meganet described him as having blond hair. Surely that would be the first thing people would look for.
As much as he hated to admit it, the halls had gotten a lot safer in a short amount of time. There had not been an attempted burglary in several days, the halls no longer smelled damp or smoky, the graffiti had been cleaned and most of the troublemaking kids were back in school. That fucking sense of governmental power, he thought to himself, disgusted by the city he called home.
Tracey subtly made his way to familiar territory, staying clear of any high traffic areas and using his stolen earpiece to keep track of the whitecoats. After a half hour of walking, he arrived at the entertainment district. Much of it looked the same as he remembered, almost unaffected by the UBE attack. The familiarity of it all gave him an odd feeling. It had been a long time since he took part in anything other than the cheap drinks Iris bought for him to have at the residence. He yearned for shots of green milk bombs or puffs of SLI.
Yet he could not help but remember the last time he was here, the day Baltir Yavenna died. His personal residence was only a few halls away from where he stood. He put his head down for a moment and remembered his friend. His only crime was helping Tracey. He didn’t want to help me, Tracey recalled. But I insisted. I killed him. It’s my fault.
He began to wonder how many people would have to die for him. That’s when his thoughts turned to his daughter. I can’t do the same thing to her, he thought.
Tracey decided to turn and walk away from the district. None of this was worth it. Putting himself out there was the worst thing he could do right now. He could not let his selfish desires hurt anyone else. It’s time to go home.
And that’s when he saw him.
Tracey stopped in his tracks as a ghost from his past walked right before his eyes. The ghost did not see him. Tracey turned his head away, hoping to keep it that way for now.
Tracey kept his eyes open, using his peripheral vision to watch the dead man. Once he had passed, Tracey followed him down the hall, keeping a wide distance. Tailing did not last long. Only a few moments later, the ghost stopped at a familiar door. Tracey stopped and waited back until he opened the door before he continued his approach.
“Baltir Yavenna!” he finally said as the brown man walked through the doorway. Baltir looked up. Once he realized who was talking to him, he scrambled, trying to close the door as quickly as he could. Tracey bolted forward and held the door open with his left arm. Baltir immediately backed off and held both hands in the air. Tracey entered the residence and closed the door behind him.
“Don’t hurt me,” the frightened man said. Tracey could see him shivering.
“Why would I hurt you?”
“Because… I don’t know,” he replied. His voice was trembling. Tracey had never seen him this nervous, not even when he accessed the camera feed for the second time. “Why are you here?”
“I saw you in the halls. I couldn’t believe it was you,” he explained.
Baltir slowly lowered his hands.
“So you weren’t looking for me?” Baltir asked.
“No,” Tracey replied, “I thought you were dead.”
Baltir let out a deep sigh of relief and took a few steps towards the couch. He tumbled onto it like someone returning home from a long day of shitty work.
“Oh, thank the Lord Beyond Both-”
“Why did you think I was trying to hurt you? How are you still alive?” Tracey asked, confused. Baltir was clearly keeping something secret from him. He could see the sweat dripping down his face and onto his clean white shirt.
“You won’t like the story. It will only make you angry.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Okay,” the half-breed said with a sigh as he slowly stood up, “I’ll tell you, but Tracey just know, I’m on your side, okay? I want you to wait until the end of my story before you make your-”
“What happened?” Tracey asked again, growing impatient. The more Baltir stalled, the more suspicious Tracey grew. He opened up his coat so Baltir could clearly see pistol he stole from the armory.
“I get it,” Baltir replied, acknowledging the gun. “So… let’s talk, okay?” He put his hands up again. Trace closed his jacket and stared at his friend intently.
“I’ve been working with Sanja Parnel,” Baltir explained. Shit, this is off to a bad fucking start. “But hear me out, I had to do it. You know just as well as I do how the government holds shit out in front of you. You know how they blackmail and-”
“So what you told me the last time I saw you was a lie?” Tracey asked.
“Parts of it, yes,” Baltir answered. “Would you just let me go on, please?”
Tracey nodded.
“So like I was saying… bear with me here… the day after we saw the footage for the first time, I was contacted by Sanja Parnel. Apparently I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought I was. You see, I had to trick the system to think I was accessing it as someone else. The account I chose the first time was someone who was already logged in and working in Parnel’s staff. A man named Colin Harper. He saw that I was accessing the files under his name. He reported it to Parnel and that’s when she contacted me.”
“So you weren’t working with her the first time we saw the footage?” Tracey clarified.
“Right,” he answered. “But Parnel knows things. It’s her job to know things. She knew our relationship, you and me. She knew that I was close to you so she made me trap you. Somehow she counted on you coming back and when you did, I was told to access the footage under her name.”
“Parnel’s name?”
“Right. So when we looked at the footage the second time, I was accessing it as Dr. Parnel. She knew it right away. That’s how the Navy moved in so fast.”
Tracey was astounded. All this time, he had been played. He was a fucking pawn in a chess game. Baltir had been one of Tracey’s friends, but now what was he? A traitor? Tracey had never felt so angry. In just one moment, Baltir had ruined his life forever.
“How could you do this?” Tracey asked, furiously.
Baltir backed up and tripped on the couch’s edge. He fell back onto it by accident and quickly stood up again, keeping his hands in the air.
“Parnel’s been given a lot of authority. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. For whatever goddamn reason, it seems she can basically tell the Navy to do whatever she wants so long as she says it’s part of her investigation. You have to understand, Parnel has it out for you. When she saw the opportunity to use me to get to you, she took it.”
“But why did you help her?” Tracey asked, unsatisfied. Baltir trembled before him.
“Tracy, you’re my friend. I never wanted to betray you, but I’d probably be dead otherwise.”
Tracey simply stared him down, not saying a word. Baltir lowered his head, breaking eye contact.
“Parnel held my mixed race status in front of me. She would have ordered them to kill me. She has the power,” he explained. “Please understand.”
Tracey felt sorry for him for a moment. He looked around the room, taking it all in. The room felt dark. Shadows covered the corners, the couch had lost its color and even the lights themselves appeared dull. It was as if life had lost its beauty.
The last time he was here, this residence was so full of life. He remembered helping Baltir carry in his groceries. They talked about their days, laughed, even shared beer together. He remembered the real milk he’d just bought from the store.
Real milk.
“Where did the money come from?” Tracey asked.
Baltir squinted his face as if trying to appear confused, though his acting was unconvincing.
“What?” he asked, playing dumb.
“The last time I came, you had real milk. You made up some trogshit story at the time but now I want the truth. Where did you get the money for it?”
Baltir put one hand in front of him and pointed his finger in the air.
“Okay, so maybe I might have accepted some money too.”
“So Parnel was paying you?”
Baltir hesitated but eventually lowered both his hands.
“Yes,” he answered with a sigh of regret, “yes, Parnel threw in a monetary incentive before the job and after the job was done.”
“As if your own life wasn’t a big enough price?”
“Everyone has a different price. For some people it’s their life, for others, money. I guess she was trying to cover all her bases. It certainly made the job less… difficult.”
“Fuck you, Baltir!” Tracey yelled. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun.
Baltir was a sellout. There was nothing good about him. Tracey could see that now.
“No, no, no! It’s not like that, Tracey, I’ve been helping you since then!” he cried.
“No more lies. Tell me the truth!”
The power of a weapon never ceased to amaze Tracey. With a gun in hand, it no longer mattered how strong you were, how fast you were or how trained you were. A gun could make a slow old woman more powerful than a fit gym brat and gave the wielder a stronger voice than a skilled negotiator. And now, it rested in his hands.
“It’s not a lie! I know you accessed your dataload recently. I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea. You know people can track that,
right? But I erased the evidence. Nobody knows you accessed it or where you accessed it from. I helped you, Tracey.”
Tracey lowered the gun but kept it in his hand. He was willing to hear more.
“Go on.”
“Yes, and in the cell. I helped you there too,” Baltir began. “I hacked into the computer and I changed it. I assigned you to that cell because I knew it wasn’t inspected for rust damage as recently. The guards are given routine things to check for each day. I kept rust inspection off the list. I did that on purpose so that you would take that shit apart and use it. Now to be fair, you didn’t quite use it the way I expected, but you did use it nonetheless.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Covering up his dataload access was one thing but ensuring that a fucking prison toilet experienced rust damage was fucking crazy.
“I’m serious. I even had the humidity levels increased in that cell.”
This story seemed too far fetched. Baltir was free. Tracey was gone. The half-breed no longer had any reason to help him.
“Why would you do all that?” Tracey asked.
“Because I’m your friend goddammit!”
Knock, knock, knock!
Both men turned and faced the front door. Tracey quickly turned back towards the sellout piece of shit traitor and raised the gun again. He remained quiet and simply stared at him. Baltir paused too but then the knocking came again.
“In a minute!” Baltir shouted towards the door, trying not to sound nervous. “I’m going to reach into my pocket for my pod, that’s all,” he explained quietly. Tracey did not move while Baltir got his pod. “Front camera,” he said into the device. A live camera feed appeared on the screen. Baltir studied it and then looked up at Tracey with a face so pale he may have been a real ghost after all.
“What?” Tracey asked.
Baltir held the pod towards him. Tracey saw a dark-skinned woman in a blazer and dark pants standing at the front of Baltir’s door, accompanied by a very large man in a tight white shirt.
“You know who that is,” Baltir said quietly. “You should hide.”
As much as Tracey wanted to punch this sellout in the face, he knew that Baltir was right. Sanja Parnel was here in person. He could feel his heart racing like never before.