Fin

by Larry Enright

  Fin said, “He let you accompany him into a human restaurant?”

  “Is that so strange?”

  “I always had to wait outside.”

  “Believe me, I’d rather have waited outside. They would only serve me Cy beer and Ben had to threaten them to get them to take my food order.”

  They moved to the common room. Nova covered the sofa with a scented sheet to hide the smell. They sat down in chairs beside it.

  “Vid on,” she said. “News.” The vidscreen came on showing scenes from the conflict with the Eastern Bloc while a ribbon of casualty and cost figures streamed matter-of-factly across the bottom of the display. An analyst was interpreting the figures and predicting imminent victory for Periculum.

  “At what cost?” Fin whispered.

  “They died so we can be free, Fin.”

  “We will never be free.”

  Nova turned off the vidscreen. “That sofa reeks. Homecom, increase scent by three.”

  The Homecom confirmed the command, and more of the scents of raspberry and quince mixed with the rancid, faintly sweet factory stench that refused to yield.

  “I am sorry about this,” Fin said.

  She refilled their wineglasses. “No worries. I think I know a way you can make it up to me.”

  “I cannot buy you a new sofa. I have no money and if I do not report for work tomorrow, I will have no job.”

  “First of all, you are not going back to that place. Ever. OK? And second, I know someone who’s got an opening that I think you’d be perfect for.”

  “Who?”

  She set her glass down. “Me. The pay’s not that good. In fact, you wouldn’t get paid at all. But the job comes with room and board, and if you do as well as I think you will, we’ll call it even.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Haven’t you ever wondered why you were so good at investigating crimes yet you could never find the mole?”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Fin said.

  “It’s occurred to me, too. Something’s not right about this, Fin.”

  “In what way?”

  “Every lead I follow turns out to be a dead end. Every piece of evidence I uncover seems like a red herring.”

  “A fish?”

  “It’s a phrase people use to refer to an obvious clue that’s meant to throw you off the track.”

  “You think someone is planting fake evidence to confuse the investigation?”

  “I know they are. Someone knows my every move before I ever make it. They’re always one step ahead leading me away from the mole. And the SIA is no help. Ben's no help either. They’re going to fire me, just like they did you. I can feel it. It’s not fair. The whole thing stinks. Worse than you,” she added with a coy smile.

  “Have you told Dr. Shepherd?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure I can trust him. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

  “You must trust me if you are telling me this.”

  “I guess I do,” she admitted.

  “Yet you hardly know me.”

  “I know enough. I know you’re not like the others, Fin. I can’t explain it, but with you it’s different, like you’re the only one I can trust.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just do.”

  “What about Agent Clayborn? I have always found him to be honest, brutally so at times, but honest to a fault.”

  “He’s SIA, Fin. I don’t trust any of them.”

  “As much as I would like to, I do not see how I can help you. I already failed once.”

  “But you were doing it alone. Together we won’t fail. Please, I need your help.”

  “I cannot go back there, Nova. I am banned from Periculum. I have no investigative tools. I do not even have a Commlink.”

  “I’m not asking you to go back. I’m asking you to work from here doing what you do best. You’ll be the brains and I’ll be your eyes and ears.”

  “You do not need me for that. You are more intelligent than I am.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It seemed obvious from your color.”

  “My color doesn’t mean that at all. Dr. Shepherd wanted me to fit in better with humans, not be smarter than them. That’s why I’m a Violet. Studies show that people are more relaxed around that color. He designed everything about me so I could work better with them. He told me that was your biggest problem. You didn’t get along with people. You made them uncomfortable. You intimidated them.”

  “He said that?”

  She nodded.

  Fin said, “So much for being the perfect son.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s what Dr. Shepherd insists on calling me—his perfect son. Apparently, perfect was not good enough.”

  “Fin, you can’t change who you are, but you can change how you deal with it. Come on. Help me. This could be good for both of us. You’ll finally catch the mole and I’ll get to keep my job.”

  She had taken Fin’s hand. He withdrew it.

  “You’re still mad at me for stealing your job, aren’t you?” she said.

  “No,” he replied. “You did not replace me. They did.”

  “Then what do you say? Let’s do this.”

  “I already have a job.”

  “You are not going back there.”

  “But Dr. Shepherd arranged it. I have to.”

  “No, you don’t. Look at yourself. If you go back there you’ll die.”

  “Everyone dies.”

  “Not today.”

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “Why did you help me when those Whites were raping me, knowing that they could have killed you?”

  Fin emptied his wineglass. His hands had been shaky of late, but they were steady enough when he set the glass down on the coffee table. “What will Agent Clayborn say? What will Dr. Shepherd think?”

  “They’ll never know. It’ll be our little secret.”

  “But is it proper for me to stay here?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I have never been with a woman.”

  Nova laughed. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me, Fin. Oh God, no. No offense, but you’re not my type. This is strictly business. I have two bedrooms. You get the smaller one. And no complaints about how much time I spend in the bathroom.” She extended her hand. “Deal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. I’m asking for your help. I’m begging you. I can’t do this without you. Please, Fin, will you help me?”

  He stared at her still-outstretched hand. “I will need complete network access.”

  “Done.”

  “And an agent-grade terminal. My activities must be untraceable.”

  “No problem. I’ve already got one. Never used it, but they set it up for me when I moved in.”

  “And a Commlink with a copy of The Word on it if possible.”

  “I’ll even have it autographed by God. So you’ll do it?”

  Fin took her hand and shook it. “Yes, but there is one more thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “May I have another glass of that wine, please?”

  Chapter 11

  Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will open. Ask and the truth will be told.

  Fin paced the common room, oblivious to the vidscreens changing from idyllic scene to scene. He wasn’t paying attention to the classical music nor was he aware of what scents the Homecom was mixing with the air that day. His energies were focused entirely on the latest set of data Nova had transmitted to him. He stopped for a moment to stare at the grid of schematics on his workstation before going back to pacing. Nova had told him once that he was going to wear a hole in the floor if he kept that up. His response was that, by his calculations, accomplishing that would take a thousand years. She had laughed, called him a piece of work when he had not meant to be funny. That puzzled him.

  One of the wall screens was showing
her favorite vid: “Sunrise Over the Ocean Option Twelve.” She loved the sun though she had never seen the real sun. She loved the beach despite knowing there were no beaches like that anymore. She loved things that no longer existed, that hadn't for hundreds of years, and likely never would again. That puzzled him, too.

  It had been nearly four weeks since she had taken him in and during that time he had regained his health, his color, and his spirits. She had seen to that. He was grateful. No, not just grateful. Something more, much more, but that too was a puzzle he had yet to unravel.

  He forced his thoughts back to the task at hand, projecting the schematic he had decrypted that morning to one of the wall screens. He then fed other schematics from the Library of Council’s main scientific database to an adjoining screen and began comparing the diagrams one by one. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but the data before him was like nothing he had ever seen. There was nothing even remotely like it in Council's catalog of devices. It was far advanced beyond any technology ever used in Periculum. That puzzle was particularly disturbing.

  The Homecom announced Nova’s arrival. Its voice, like that of Fin's Homecom, was Esse’s. On those long days when Nova was away working, Fin would often converse with it to organize his thoughts on a problem at hand or to take a short break from his work. He would question it about Nova, asking it things like what she liked, what she disliked, the reason she placed that lamp in that particular corner, and what her motivations were for preferring the mix of music she seemed to like so much. At first, he wondered at himself for asking such innocuous questions, but he realized that what he was trying to understand was not what she did or why she did it, but who this woman was that puzzled him as much as the data on the vidscreen. Always the puzzle.

  He switched one of the common room vids to a security camera on the roof. Nova was standing in the rain beside a Levcar, her violet hair matted against her uniform. She was shielding her face from it but against the rain there was no defense. He had almost forgotten how much like humanity the rain was: so persistent, so brutal, so unforgiving. Hadn’t the world cried enough? Hadn’t there been more than enough sadness to fill a million lifetimes? If there were a time for everything, for every purpose under heaven, when would the time come for mankind to relent and the rain to end?

  Fin hadn’t been outside since he moved in with Nova. She said it wasn’t safe. Tork was gone, but now the Death’s Door gang was hunting him in earnest. Book had put an even larger bounty on his head, and it wasn’t just a matter of principle or pride anymore. Fin was bad for business. Nova had told him that other dealers, emboldened by Fin’s actions, were muscling in on Book’s territory with cheaper product. She said that the stories floating around Cytown about the Blue who had been the cause of the brief shortage of Creep in the neighborhood had become in drunken retellings tales of a hero who was trying to free Cytown from the DD’s grip. He had single-handedly killed the hated giant Tork and twenty of Book’s men. He had almost taken out Book, too, and word was that he vowed he would finish the job someday. This Cybernite rebel was robbing from the rich and passing out free Creep to the poor if only you could find him. The problem was he traveled the sewers, never stayed in one place long enough, never announced where he would be next, and you never knew what he would look like. He could change his face and color like a chameleon. There was even talk that this ex-SIA agent was planning a revolt against the Man. He was the one who would finally break the shackles that bound them to the wheel. He was the one who would free them once and for all. And when he did, Periculum would be theirs. So the stories went, she said, but the truth was this folk hero of Cytown was just another tunnel rat hiding from the trapper, and these stories were little more than excuses to buy cheaper drugs elsewhere. Once Book found him, he would put an end to the stories and Death’s Door would get back to business as usual.

  Fin refocused on the vidscreen. Dr. Shepherd was stepping out of the car under an umbrella held by Semperesse. Fin shut down his workstation, gathered up his things, and went into his room to hide, cracking the door so he could listen.

  “Welcome home, ma’am,” the Homecom announced when they arrived a few minutes later.

  “Raspberry and quince, please,” Fin heard Nova say. “And raise the temperature two degrees.”

  Raspberry and quince—the scents she invariably requested upon arriving home. Fin had come to associate them with her in a way he did not entirely understand. Tart, sweet, soothing, acidic—it was an impossible puzzle of aromas. Always the puzzle.

  “Doctor, I’m sorry,” she said. “When you told me you wanted to stop by, I should have called ahead and had the Homecom raise the temperature.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Shepherd replied. “This luxurious new suit of mine isn’t just a fashion statement. It has pre-programmed internal temperature controls, perfect for we old folk.” He noted her consternation and asked, “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes," she replied. "I just need to get out of these wet things. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back.”

  As she passed Fin’s room they exchanged “What do we do now?” and “I don’t know” glances. When she came back from her bedroom and passed by his door again wearing a gray jumpsuit with her hair wrapped in a towel, she smiled and whispered, "I've got this." Returning to the common room, she said, “Can I offer you a glass of wine, Doctor? Procurement sent over a few bottles with my latest shipment of rations. I don’t recognize the label. It could be Cy rotgut for all I know, but after a day like today, I'd drink anything.”

  Shepherd cleared his throat. “Yes, well, tough day at the office, I take it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’d love a glass of wine, please. It’s actually from my personal stores, a particularly good vintage, quite rare. I thought you might enjoy a few bottles, so I had them included with your rations.”

  “Oh," she said, embarrassed. "That was really sweet of you.”

  “Don’t mention it. None for Esse, though: she’s driving.” He feigned a whisper, “More for us then, don’t you know?”

  Nova laughed. Her laugh seemed so genuine, so straightforward, so natural, even when Fin knew it was not. She was putting on quite the act for Dr. Shepherd.

  “Have a seat,” she said.

  “Don’t mind if I do." Shepherd groaned as Esse helped him sit down. “I should have listened to you, Esse, and gotten that exo-assist add-on with this new suit. This getting up and down thing is growing old. Or perhaps it's just me who's growing old."

  “I believe the word is venerable, Noah,” Esse said.

  “Have I told you how weird it was my first day in this place, Esse?" said Nova. "I mean the Homecom sounds so much like you. It's like you're watching over me, or something. It took me a while to get used to it.”

  “Would you like me to have the voice changed,” Shepherd asked.

  “No, no. It’s fine. It was just a little weird, that’s all. Actually, I kind of like the idea of Esse keeping tabs on me.”

  “Yes, well, to the matter at hand. Were is he, my dear?”

  Nova uttered an expletive Fin wasn't familiar with. He heard a wine glass shatter. “Great. Just great," she said. A cleaning bot whirred out of a cabinet. She poured another glass of wine and handed it to the doctor. "Where is who, Dr. Shepherd?”

  “Come, come. I know he’s here. I know you’ve been taking care of him. Thank you for that, by the way. I’ve been meaning to come over and check up on the poor boy. I’ve just been so busy lately.”

  “I’m sorry. Who are we talking about?”

  “Your boyfriend, Fin."

  “He’s not my boyfriend."

  “But he’s here and you’re caring for him. Please don't deny it any further. Some people find such bad-chatter insulting."

  “I’m sorry, Doctor. I should have said something before. I was only trying to protect you.”

  “From what?”

  She tried the lie that she d
idn’t want to put him in a compromising position, but he stopped her. “You didn’t tell me because you don’t trust me.”

  “That's not true.”

  “Actually, it is.”

  “Even if it were, how could you possibly know?”

  “Oh, I have my ways.”

  “What Noah means,” said Esse, “is that he tapped into your security system.”

  “You’ve been spying on us?” Nova said.

  Shepherd shrugged. “I prefer to think of it as observation, but yes, I’ve been looking in on you from time to time. You are, after all, my special children. Now, back to this matter of trust. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it was Fin who asked, ‘Have you told Dr. Shepherd?’ and you who replied, 'I’m not sure I can trust him. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.’ Was that a fair representation of the conversation?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  Shepherd called out, “Come out, boy. You don’t have to hide anymore.”

  Fin came out of the bedroom.

  Shepherd smiled. “God be with you, son. It’s good to see you.”

  Fin bowed. “And with us all, sir.”

  “You’re looking well. Living with a woman, and such a beautiful one, must agree with you.”

  Fin blushed. “Nova has been very kind, sir.”

  “I’m happy that you two have finally gotten together.”

  “It’s not like that, Doctor,” Nova protested. “And if you’ve been watching us, you’d know.”

  “Of course, it isn’t. I’m just teasing.”

  Fin asked Nova, “How is Agent Clayborn? I saw on the SIA assignment board that he returned to work today.”

  “Not good,” she replied. “He was more or less OK with the idea of a new hand, but when they told him they’d have to replace his arm up to the elbow, he said he’d rather die a cripple than be turned into a robot.”

  “He could function adequately with one arm. Many Cybernites do.”

  “Not and stay an agent—the commander said it was either a new arm or early retirement. He placed Ben on administrative leave to give him time to think it over.”

  “Perhaps we should speak with him.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Fin. He blames you for what happened, and he’s not exactly thrilled with me. After all, I was the one who insisted we go looking for you.”