The iFactor

  “We still don’t.” Matt smiled. “It could have reptile in it.”

  “Got any with reptile meat?” she teased.

  “No,” The vender’s voice contained a suggestion of agitation. “All we have are standard hotdogs with the condiments listed on the menu.”

  “Alright then, what do you want?” Jill asked.

  “I’ll take a chili dog.” Matt said, “And a cola.”

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about. “ Her smile spread. “Who knows what the hell’s in that? Make that two.”

  The food was premade, and he had it ready seconds. “Ten point five two” the merchant said as he put the paper tray on the counter.

  “Can you grab that?” Jill asked Matt as she waved her hand over the reader to pay the bill.

  Matt trembled involuntarily as the recollection of the vision of Vanderhaar holding her bloody palm chip in his hand overran his waking mind. “I’m sorry Matt.” Vanderhaar’s voice rang in his ears. He stared at Jill’s hand in fleeting horror.

  “Hey,” She said taking the tray as he stood there trying to compose himself. “Sorry I asked.”

  “No,” Matt forced himself back into the moment. Just because he dreamed her didn’t determine her destiny. Dreams are just dreams. “I’m sorry. I was just… somewhere else.”

  “Must have been someplace pretty nasty.” She said. “Are we back now?”

  “Yeah,” he forced a smile. “You didn’t buy me lunch just to have me go dower on you.’

  “I think I can forgive you for now, “she found a bench and sat down. “No more work thinking, got it. It’s fun thinking time.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he sat next to her. She was too full of life to die. If his dreams were precognitive, then he’d find a way to stop to change things. She handed him a chili dog served on an oval paper tray in reverence to the traditional earth venders of centuries past. At least it kept the chili from dripping on to his fingers. “Mr. Buzzkill has left the building.”

  “Good” she took a bite of her hotdog, a small splotch of chili landed on her chin. Matt stifled a chuckle. “There is a nice place right over here.”

  Jill moved to a patch of grass a few meters from the vender. It was a little close for Matt, but it had one advantage; it had a great view of the tank. Watching fish was always relaxing; it reminded him of the beaches and aquariums he’d been to as a child. If he could afford it, Matt would have had a fish tank in his apartment. That, however, was a luxury well above his pay grade. Moreover, sitting in the park felt too uncovered. Even so, he tried to take his mind off the crowds and focus on the woman who just bought him lunch.

  A small school of fish passed before the observation window. Matt could virtually hear the sound of the surf and the feel of the sand beneath him. It was comforting, and he didn’t want to escape back to his apartment. The crowds were still well off in the distance. The person nearest him was one he actually wanted there. He turned from the large window and observed her.

  “Thanks,” he said taking a bite of his hot dog.

  “Least I could do.” She said. “You did try to save me after all.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  “I’ll live.” She took another bite, staring up at the tank as the light from the sunset played across the dome creating in crimsons and pinks in the water. “I should make a point of coming out for the main sun set more often.”

  Matt looked up. It was pretty, but it wasn’t his native sun. Some part of the earthling in him still objected to seeing one sun set as another was still on the horizon.

  “Look at the way it’s reflecting on the fish tank.” Jill commented. Matt turned to see the red flashes playing across the water. It was a strange phenomenon, one he’d never noticed on Sirius before. He didn’t know that you could get sunsets inside the dome. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light. Sirius primary was setting and the water, like the sky in the Arizona desert grew redder as he watched.

  “Some people have no respect.” Jill said.

  “Excuse me?” Matt turned back to look at her.

  A look of displeasure played upon her face, but it wasn’t directed at him, she looked past him to the tank. “Isn’t there a law about swimming in the food supply?” she scowled.

  Matt stood up and walked to the view window. About a dozen or so meters into the pool was the form of a human gently moving his or her arms and legs, but the swimmer was being pulled along by the current which was bringing the swimmer slowly toward the observation glass. “I imagine there will some kind of fine involved. There are plenty of witnesses.”

  The form drew closer, growing more difficult to see as it approached. The water was growing redder by the moment. The current slowly pushed the body toward the glass until Matt could see that someone treading water did not cause that kind of motion in the arms and legs. The fish were pecking away at the dead man, the force of their feeding moving the corpse’s limbs. Matt could see the man’s dead eyes and blood coming from his head and palm.

  “Turn away!”

  Jill stared in wide-eyed silence as the dead face moved across the large observation window. She screamed and put her head against Matt’s chest. He waited for her to gain control, and he called it in.

  Chapter 27

  “I’m sorry, Dales.” Vanderhaar read the message on the screen once the conference room door closed. “Can you believe it? That bastard aimed the message right at you Matt. How did he know?” He roared.

  “Who knew that I was on the case?” Matt was irritated and anxious.

  “With all of your running around and questioning people, I’m surprised the whole colony doesn’t know.” Rishards quipped.

  “That’s the reason why I called him in.” The chief defended. “I want you to keep it up.”

  “Well one things for sure,” Officer Perry said. “Our list just got shorter.”

  “How do you figure?” Rishards asked.

  “If the killer knows about Dales, then he’s connected with the police department, or was close enough to see him looking over the crime scene.” Perry answered.

  “The killer might even be one of the people that we interviewed.” Matt mused.

  “I think this new message indicates an escalation.” Doctor Taylor profiled. “Not only has the killer announced that he is playing a game, the killer has chosen his opponent.”

  “Why me?” Matt asked. “I just got on this case. Rishards has been on it since the start.”

  “Either they do not consider her to be a threat, or as Detective Rishards said, your investigative methods brought you to their attention.” Doctor Taylor said.

  “Do you think the killer might target him?” the chief asked.

  “Hard to say, but I don’t think so.” Doctor Taylor mused. “I think that the killer either wants the great detective Matt Dales to stop them, or else they want to prove that he can’t. In either case, I think we will be seeing another killing very soon.”

  “If the killer is trying to prove he’s better than me, what will be his next move?” Matt didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t the first time he was threatened by a suspect, but he usually had some idea who they were.

  “I believe the next murder will be very visible, something hard for you to hide, or explain away. He’ll want to prove your impotence, and that of the department.” Doctor Taylor offered.

  “He’ll want to show off?” Matt said.

  “Yes,” Doctor Taylor said. “With this last message, I believe that the killer is showing that intent. He wants us to know how superior he is to us.”

  “So that means we can expect the killings to grow more frequent and more public.” Rishards couldn’t keep the anxiety out of her voice.

  “How much longer can we keep this quiet?” Matt asked. “After today I don’t see how we can stop the panic.”

  “We keep up the cover stories.” The chief said. “The first murderer was caught, the second was a suicide. The third was and industrial accident and thi
s last one, well the man had a little too much to drink and dove into the shallow end of the pool and cracked his head on the bottom. That’ll explain the blood in the water. No one in this office is to say different. I’ll have the press put out a public service announcement about the dangers of swimming while under the influence.”

  “Is it possible that the motives might be changing?” Matt asked.

  “It’s possible, “Doctor Taylor though about it. “The main motivation would be the same. It might however change the way it is expressed; not that we know what it was to begin with. Why?”

  “The first two murders seemed to be personal, or religious in aspect. Something that the supervisor in the canyon told me keeps coming back in light of the latest killing. That it was a terrorist act aimed at our food supply. I was there; I saw the fish eating the man. Now the fish are contaminated?”

  “We will of course have to have all of the fish tested for human DNA as we harvest. Those fish will have to be taken out of the food supply. Yes, you could call this a terrorist act.”

  “How does this get us closer to finding our killer?” Rishards asked.

  “Every little piece of the jigsaw.” Matt said.

  “Get enough and the image comes together.” Vanderhaar said. “Sounds like something my trainer at the academy used to say.”

  “Probably,” Matt said. “I learned it from you.”

  “No wonder it sounded reasonable.” The chief tugged on his mustache. “Well let’s get back out there and get me some more pieces.”

  “No problem.” Matt pushed himself from the table, his mind spinning. He couldn’t afford this distraction; he needed push everything else out of his mind and focus on the case. He’d fighting off the paranoid delusions of being followed. Now, just as his life was turning around, a nebulous sinister force was indeed targeting him. If the killer knew about him, then perhaps he had been following him, stalking him, learning his patterns and weaknesses for some time. They might even be the ones responsible for the notes on his door. The killer has been playing a game with him all along, but at least now, he knew about it.

  Matt continued to gape at the city message board as the others shuffled out of the room. The display contained the latest victims name and code and the simple message. “I’m sorry Dales!” His stomach turned. As if his life wasn’t messed up enough. Maybe Rishards was right to believe in god, only a divine being could mess up a person’s life this completely.

  Chapter 28

  Matt was waiting in the lobby as Jill emerged from the interview room. She had been one of thirty witnesses, so the department called her in to give an account of what she saw. Her eyes were red and puffy. It had been a long day for both of them. The image of the bloody palm chip in Ken’s hand, her palm chip haunted his memory “I’m sorry Matt.” The chief’s not yet spoken words rang in his memory, paying over the words on the board, “I’m sorry Dales”. Her life was in danger, he didn’t know when or how, but he was sure of it.

  If he protected her, could he stop it from happening? What if his attentions made her a target? How could he save her if his protection led the killer to her in the first place? A sharp spike of pain shot through his head. It was impossible. How could he know?

  If she was going to be one the killer’s victims, then at least he would know where the killer would strike. Did he just consider using her for bait? The thought pained him. He hardly knew her, being with her was comforting. Even though she was a stranger, every nuance of her voice and movement of her body felt familiar to him. Whatever the consequences, he would protect her, and to do that, he would have to stay close to her.

  “Are you here to walk me home again?” She walked up to him as if he were the only one in the room.

  “Least I could do since our lunch ended so tragically.” He said.

  “Yeah, not much of a date was it?”

  “Was it?” He looked at her with hopeful eyes.

  “What?”

  “A date.” He said.

  “Well I did my best.” A slight, but fatigued smile crossed her face. “Couldn’t you tell?”

  “Most dates don’t usually end up in an interview room?”

  “Really, seems to be happening to me more and more.” She mused.

  “Dates usually end in a kiss, not a police report.”

  “This does seem to be getting to be a trend for me.” She said. “But the nights not over yet.” She held out her arm. He took it and they walked out. They walked down the path until they reached the park then Jill started to head for the path she’d taken the night before. Walking the same path every night could make them easy to attack, they should be tougher to predict, He didn’t want to make her an easy target, but how could he explain without letting her know about the killer.

  “Can we walk on the main walk tonight?”

  “If you like,” she said nervously. “Makes the walk longer though.”

  “We can take the nearest train if you like?”

  “No, I’m fine. A long walk will help me depressurize. It’s been a… well, the last few days will stick with me for a while.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “No one should have to go through what you have.”

  “Hey,” she brushed his cheek. “It’s not like you’re responsible. I’m the one who took you out to lunch. Seems to me, you just keep helping.”

  “Still,” her touch sent his senses into overload. His body tingled. “Let’s get you home before the night gets any more eventful.”

  “I’m not sure I can take anymore today.” She seemed tired.

  As she spoke, a memory popped into Matt’s mind. He’d done this before, or dreamed it. Something was about to happen, something illegal, something that he would have to stop. “Then you are not going to like this very much. We need to get out of sight, now.”

  “Why in the world?” She protested as he pulled her into a shadowed area off the path. “There are easier ways to get a girl into the bushes. You might try a compliment.”

  “I love the way you can move quickly and quietly, it’s very attractive.”

  “You are so very strange.”

  “Crouch down.” Matt kneeled, pulling gently on her arm to follow him.

  “What’s going on?’

  “Something is about to happen. Please be quiet.”

  “What?” she sounded upset. “What’s going to happen?”

  “Not exactly sure.” He hunched lower. Jill followed his example.

  “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” she whispered.

  “Quiet, they are almost here.” Matt pointed toward a couple of young men coming across the park out of a poorly lit area.

  “What about them?”

  “Pay attention.” Matt saw the familiar scene unfold before him. An older man stepped out from between two buildings and met with the other two. There was some hushed conversation and a mobile palm reader appeared in the older man’s hand. The other two ran their hands across the device. “A drug deal.”

  The older man confirmed his suspicion when he looked at the reader display and then reached into his pocket to produce two small vials.

  “Fantasia?” Jill asked.

  “I’d bet on it.” Matt waved his palm over his radio.

  “Detective Matthew Dales confirmed.” The radio responded.

  “Crime in progress. Tracer locate code six five. Send patrol.”

  “Confirmed. Units dispatched.”

  “Now what?” Jill asked.

  “Now, I make an arrest. And you wait here.” Matt stood up. “I’ll be back.”

  Matt walked out of the shadows. He closed to within ten meters before the small group took notice of him. One of the younger men, the one dressed in expensive clothing, yelped when he saw him the security markings. Matt would have been amused by the reaction, except that he saw nothing at all funny about Fantasia. In his mind, everyone who traded in it was no better than killers were themselves. The older man secreted the palm reader with a smooth prac
ticed motion.

  “What can we do for you?” The older man said.

  “Security,” Matt called out. “Stay where you are!”

  The finely dressed man’s face filled with panic, he started to breath heavily. Matt thought for a moment that he was going to be ill.

  “Hands on top of your heads.” Matt continued with caution. The older man and the poorer dressed young man put their hands on their heads. The well-dressed young man took the opportunity to panic and run. Not that it would matter. The cities tracking system logged all identity chips in the area the moment he called in. “Really? Your friend is not that smart.” He activated his radio again. “We have a runner.”

  “We have him.” The familiar voice of Marcus Taylor, a patrol officer, responded. Two uniformed officers converged on the runner. From a distance, Matt could make out the familiar crack of a tangler discharge. Matt could see the man fall, encased in fibrous glue that solidified quickly incasing the young offender to be safely apprehended. “That’ll damage that nice suit. Anyone else?”

  “No,” the young man said. The other man remained silent.

  The two patrol officers approached carrying the other man still encased in his artificial cocoon. Matt could hear him blubbering. He called Jill over and gave his report. An inspection of the younger men yielded not only several vials of Fantasia but also syringes to inject the drug. That was enough to arrest the lot. Matt and Jill had to promise to give official depositions in the morning before they were allowed to go.

  “How did you know?” Jill asked as he walked her the rest of the way home.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You knew that was going to happen.” She stopped and looked into his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t ever lie to me.”

  “Call it a hunch.” He said.

  “You mean like women’s intuition. My mom tried that on me too. She used to guess things too.”

  “I’m not psychic. I don’t believe in psychics.”

  “What do you think these hunches are?”

  “Barely noticed stimuli processed by my subconscious and sent to my waking mind as a strong feeling. I saw shadows moving from one direction in an abnormal way, as if they were trying not to be noticed as well as hearing the footsteps from the darkness coming the other way. My mind tells me something illegal is about to happen. Everyone does it. I’m just a little better at listening because of my training.”