“Mr. Ward, sit down. You’re making everybody nervous.” She indicated an ottoman next to Ward’s leg, which he made a seat of. “You asked for this meeting. So how about we get to it? Just what is it you’re offering me?”
“You haven’t divined that for yourself?” he said.
“Your message was a bit vague. Perhaps you might enlighten me.”
Ah, of course, he thought. He had enticed her to meet with him based on what was an offer to be completely frank. Not surprisingly, she expected him to be the first to divulge anything. It was a rare thing he should be so honest twice in the same day, but that seemed to be the pattern he was establishing.
“You were correct the last time we talked, when you said my employers don’t make any moves without an ulterior motive. You were wrong, however, when you said they don’t want Lee found. Right now, that’s all they want. Not because they miss their friend, but because they need something he has.”
Ward noticed a sudden spark in her eye. The door cracked open ever so slightly.
“And what is that?”
Ward raised a hand. “Not so fast. Before I get into details, I need to know a few things from your side. You said you weren’t responsible for his disappearance and you didn’t know where he was. I believe that to be the truth.” Ward paused before raising his index finger for dramatic effect. “But you do have some idea who is responsible, don’t you? And you know how to get in contact with them?”
Finch took a deep breath and adjusted herself on the divan. The thought of answering that question clearly didn’t sit well with her, but she was eager to hear what could be important enough that the Chandrasekhars were willing to send a private investigator all the way to Titan to retrieve it.
“I might have some idea,” she said finally.
“Good. Then I need you to get in contact with them and deliver a message for me.”
Her face furrowed, but her smile remained. “What’s the message?”
Once again, Ward raised his hand. “Before I tell you, I need to ask you something.” He shifted forward on the ottoman so he could get a little bit closer to her. Nan tensed and moved forward himself, pushing the gun forward so Ward would remember it was trained on him. Ward paid him no heed. All that mattered was what he had to say to Finch.
“You know Doctor Lee had certain, sensitive materials on his person. You intimated as much to me the last time we spoke. From this, I also gathered Doctor Lee must be deceased.” Finch was about to respond; Ward interrupted her with a raised hand. “Never mind whether you can confirm or deny that. The point is, you must also know those materials aren’t accessible to anyone. Not now. Not unless they’ve been entrusted with a specialized quantum key, or have access to machinery no one in this end of the System can come by.”
Finch stopped smiling. It was an odd thing to see. For once, she looked like she had been caught in a snare, yet it was Ward who was putting himself in a vulnerable position by sharing this with her.
“That’s certainly very interesting, Mr. Ward. But if, as you say, I know this, what good does telling me do?”
Ward smiled. “Because I have the key.” He waited for a reaction. Slowly, a look of what appeared to be mild disgust formed on her face. “I can only imagine your colleagues didn’t know, or didn’t suspect as much, because no one has tried to kidnap me.”
Finch began nodding. He had told her everything. And with barely a few facial and body gestures in response, she had revealed everything to him too.
“So, the message I want to send to these people is this. In exchange for Doctor Lee’s location, and the freedom to transport whatever’s left of the poor bastard home, I’m prepared to share whatever he has locked away in his skull with them.”
It took a few seconds for Finch to absorb everything he had said. To her credit, she recovered quite quickly. He only imagined her many years of politicking had given her a thicker skin than most. She had become accustomed to dealing with things that would appall or shock anyone else into silence.
“You’re assuming quite a few things here, Mr. Ward. You’re assuming I know what you’re talking about. You’re also assuming I know whom to pass this message to, instead of some vague suspicion.”
Ward nodded. He was admittedly doing all of that.
“However,” she continued, “assuming I pass on this message and it finds its way to someone who knows what to do with it, how do you know they won’t respond by grabbing you and torturing it out of you?”
The thought of Arden and his heavily-armed mercenary thugs flashed through Ward’s mind. He could not and would not divulge that bit of information to her. But something approaching it seemed useful by way of reply.
“Then perhaps you should let them know that if anything happens to me, the Chandrasekhars aren’t going to be sending another private investigator to look into this. They’ll be sending in some very nasty men with some very nasty weapons. I think it’s in everyone’s best interests I remain alive and well, hmm?”
It worked. He saw she agreed with this assessment and didn’t like the thought of it. The less he needed to say about armed men showing up, the better. That was one angle of this plan he really didn’t need to think about right now.
“Assuming there is anyone who wants to talk to you, how would they reach you?”
“The same way you did,” Ward said, tapping his temple. “The link is with your answering service. Forward anything they give you. And please emphasize to them this needs to happen sooner rather than later.”
Finch smiled again and spread her hands. “I’ll do my best.”
Ward stood. He motioned to Nan. “Then I’ll take my gun and get out of your hair. I’m sure you’ve got a full night planned.”
Nan looked at Finch first. She nodded to him, and he reluctantly offered Ward his own gun. When Ward put his hand on it, Nan didn’t immediately release his grip on the weapon, forcing Ward to meet Nan’s gaze and hear his parting shot.
“I like this plan of yours, gearhead. Anything that gets you out of here and back to where you come from.”
Ward cocked an eyebrow. “Gearhead? That’s interesting. You know, where I come from, someone like you wouldn’t have a tough time fitting in.”
Nan pulled him closer. “Leave now, while you still can.”
Ward’s leg began to ache again, as did a few other spots on his body that remembered their last exchange. His bioimplants didn’t respond though, given it was a case of phantom pain. His body remembered how uncomfortable it was to tangle with the augmented Nan, and didn’t want to repeat it.
“Always a pleasure,” said Ward, and turned to leave.
Thirty
As expected, it didn’t take long for the message to arrive. Ward had to give Finch credit, she definitely came through. The source was naturally anonymous, but there was no mistaking who the sender was.
Where and when?
He smiled. It was a rare feeling, being able to dictate things for a change. He could think of no better place or time to schedule this meeting.
Platform 3G. Midnight.
There was no answer. He surmised they had accepted. Checking the time, he noted he had barely enough time to execute things as he’d planned. Hopping back on the train, he sat in the farthest cart to the rear. There, he had total privacy, and an opportunity to check his weapon and review all his systems.
Everything seemed in order. Pulse elevated, blood pressure and epinephrine production a little high. Nothing at all to indicate he didn’t appreciate the reality of his situation, walking into an unknown and potentially hostile situation with no idea how it would play out.
But at the other end of things, he had his burning curiosity. At last, a chance to resolve the case in a way he wanted.
Looking out the side window, Ward made a quick assessment of where they were. He was also sure to cross-check with the schematic Boyagan had provided. After departing the station at the Yellow Light District, they had passed through several tr
ansit nodes. He had some time to plan for his dismount once they reached Section G. However, once there, things would happen very fast. If he wanted to disembark between subsection two and three, as planned, he needed to execute things with extremely precise timing.
Nothing left to do but wait. And given he had no desire to sit and watch the time fly by, he called up his overlay and ordered his neural loom to begin initiating a trance state. Gradually, his brainwaves began to reach slow wave function, and his pulse and breathing slowed. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift away into unconsciousness.
#
Something was pinging at him. Ward couldn’t be sure how much time had passed at first, but a quick check of his chrono revealed it was a few minutes before he was scheduled to wake up. Indicators began to let him know the sudden shock to wakefulness wasn’t doing his cardiovascular system any favors. His heart rate was elevated and his blood pressure had increased rather quickly. He was both angry and confused, until he realized what the source of the noise was.
It was his comlink. He had neglected to shut it down before passing into a trance state. His heart rate increased further the moment he saw who was calling him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid answering it. Opening the link, he was greeted with Adler’s voice. The mercenary sounded less than enthused.
“Ward. What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been over two standard days and we haven’t received any updates. What’s your situation?”
Ward quietly placed the Rutger back in its holster underneath his jacket. Though Adler didn’t have eyes on him at that second, he knew any audible traces of him checking his sidearm might throw up some red flags.
“It’s been a busy time. I’ve been meeting with the Gendarmerie, and with some of the local people of interest.”
“Found anything?”
“Just a lot of dead ends and stonewalling. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything.”
Ward smiled. It wasn’t so much a lie as an outdated version of the truth. Roughly a day ago, every word he had uttered would have been entirely factual.
“And how’s Doctor Amaru? Has she been of help?”
He noted the slight betrayal in Adler’s voice. He was attempting to sound concerned, but seemed less than. Ward tried to sound more genuine in his reply.
“She’s doing all she can. We’ve talked about visiting the methane extraction facility to look over what she and Doctor Lee had been doing there.”
“Is that necessary?”
“You never know.”
Ward said nothing further, and Adler was left with a second of dead air. Finally, he took the cue and politely signed off. “Let us know if there are any changes. Good luck.”
Ward breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the connection was terminated. He had enough on his mind without worrying about Adler dogging his steps. If he wanted this meeting to happen as he had planned it, he didn’t have time to dick around on the comlink.
He consulted the chrono in his visual field, looked over the rough calculations he had done, and realized he still had a good minute.
Getting up from his seat, he walked to the rear. A hatch with a sign reading Emergency Exit in multiple languages was there. Next to it was a large red lever: the manual release, right where he needed it to be. He had run the scenarios in his mind while waiting for a reply from Finch’s “friends.” All indications were if the train was brought to a stop at the right moment, he would overshoot the side tunnel by just enough. By the time security reached the train to see what had happened, he would already be free and clear.
Ward checked his chrono again. Just a few more seconds. He began to breathe slowly, ignoring the indicators telling him his temperature was rising and his heart rate increasing. The damn things knew the difference between elevated stress and a heart attack, but they still felt the need to notify him. Again and again, he shut down repeated requests to stimulate additional norepinephrine and endorphin production. Right now, he needed the steely edge that only came from an increased amount of adrenaline in his system.
In fact, he needed more than that. He issued the order to activate his defense protocol, speeding up his reaction time and reflexes. His loom responded, sending his system into overdrive and slowing the flow of time down. The last seconds ticked by interminably slowly. Finally, he made his move. Grabbing the red lever with one hand and a support rail with the other, he took one last breath and let the countdown run out.
Three seconds, two seconds. . .
Ward pulled on the lever as hard as he could. It nearly broke off as a result, but the rear door slid open. The sudden pressure change caused a bit of a gust, but it was short-lived. The sound of air screaming around the train filled the cabin, along with the noise of the general alarm.
It was lucky the rear cabin was empty. Otherwise, it was a scene of chaos, much like the cabins ahead of him. In those, everyone was being thrown forward in their seats. He almost heard the muffled screams as the passengers were tossed into restraints suddenly deployed to hold them. Or perhaps he was screaming himself from the pain in his left arm, which felt like it was being pulled from its socket.
But the pain passed, and the train came to a stop. The rails powered down, letting the train come to rest in a cushion of magnetic induction. Once he had regained his footing, Ward was out the back and moving. He landed hard between the rails, sending a temporary stab of pain up his leg. Ignoring it, he pushed forward. He had a few hundred meters to go and wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the train.
He needed to catch the perpetrators as they emerged from the side tunnel. A desperate gamble, but a necessary one under the circumstances. There was simply no way he would be caught waiting for them on the platform. Not when they could simply sneak up on him with their stealth suits and take him as easily as they had Lee.
His breath became short and indicators told him his blood oxygenation levels were a little low. This was consistent with the air pressure in this section of the tunnel, which was low for jogging. There wasn’t much he could do about that, except breathe slower and deeper.
It was a lucky thing the gravity here was about the same as it was on Luna. Otherwise, his muscles might begin to feel some premature fatigue. Instead, his legs pumped freely, causing him to fall into a bouncing gait.
In time, he began to feel cool as well. Heat was another thing scant between transit nodes. He felt it in his hands first, and then his face. By the time he reached the side corridor, his fingers felt numb. Things didn’t improve once he entered. The doorway was unsecured, the lock having apparently been inactive for some time. Once opened, it let out a gust of frigid wind. His displays conveyed some alarm at this too, warning him the ambient temperature next to his skin was dropping quickly.
Interesting, he thought. The schematics had indicated this side tunnel had only one exit, yet the airflow seemed to indicate otherwise. Somewhere in this conduit, there had to be another exit. And he had a pretty good idea of where it led.
Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him. His jacket was nice enough to adjust for the drop in temperature, raising its collar to shield his neck and ears, and deploying several insulation layers around his core. Unfortunately, his cheeks and hands were still exposed. Had he wanted, he could instruct the jacket to encase him in a warm cocoon, but that would make going for his weapon harder in a hurry, and he needed his eyes clear to see around him.
You wanted to figure this out, he told himself. You’re almost there. Now keep moving!
More indications of the change in temperature followed, like the patches of ice crystals lining the walls. At his feet, small puddles of moisture had frozen over with thin sheets of ice. Pulling up an overlay, he opened the schematics file Boyagan had provided and projected them into his visual field. He was drawing ever closer to the first of several side doors on his left, and the cold seemed to get more intense.
Moving past it, he blew s
ome more warm air into his hands and produced the Rutger from its holster. Whatever awaited him, he was getting closer to it. A quick check of his chrono showed time was running out. If the people he was looking for were to be found here, they would emerge before long. If not, he needed to get back to the platform in time. If he failed to show, the window of meeting these individuals might close forever.
Past the first door, several meters onward. He kept moving, as brisk a pace as the tunnel would allow, given its tight walls and slippery surface. His grip on the Rutger became looser with time, his numbness and the lack of any contact making him feel less in danger.
Then he noticed something interesting.
The display window showing him ambient temperature indicated it was rising. Still in the less-than-comfortable range for normal human operations, but warmer nevertheless. Ward took several more steps, and then several more. He scanned the walls that ran ahead of him. Within a few dozen meters, the icy flakes on the wall turned to a slick sheen of condensation. The puddles on the floor lost their icy coating.
Was this a sudden change? Or was the source of the cold now behind him?
Turning back, he noted that in that direction, the icy conditions remained in effect, indicating the latter possibility was the correct one. On a hunch, he began backtracking. He’d retraced several dozen meters when he caught sight of the first side door he had passed. He hadn’t noticed before, but the icy crystals seemed particularly concentrated around the edges.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed.
Here too, the door was unsecured. There was no locking mechanism to speak of. And despite the seals being a little frozen over, it came open with only minor prying. Though he strongly suspected what he’d find on the other side, it didn’t diminish the sheer surprise of seeing it.
The Cronian Incident (The Formist Book 1) Page 27