by D. B. Goodin
“Mel? Jeremiah’s daughter?” Jet asked.
Crap, I should have told Jet about the call with Melissa I had earlier.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“New York is a four-hour drive, maybe we should call her back?”
Nigel flashed back to Melissa’s battered face, and Hunter’s gleeful look as Melissa’s beauty was compromised by the beating from his crazy bitch of a mother.
Jet put a comforting hand on Nigel’s shoulder. “I still have nightmares from that time. It was almost a year ago now. I’m here for you, Nige,” she said.
Nigel looked up at the woman she had become. Her eyes were moist, and so were his. He got up and gave her a kiss. They embraced; her scent excited and calmed him at the same time. He kissed her neck, she kissed his ear. He could feel her deep breaths against his ear. Her lips found his.
Nigel’s phone chirped. It was Milo—again! Jet pulled away from Nigel and booted her laptop.
“Hey, Milo, what can I do for you?”
“Nige, is this a good time to chat?”
“Sure, I was just about to call a potential customer, but I can talk.”
“I had the strangest of customers the other day. I can’t get this guy out of my head.”
“Why is that?”
“This guy wanted to know about hacking cellular signals, and I sold him some gear to pick up on those frequencies. I thought he was a kook, but I had a bad feeling as soon as this guy left my shop. He had a tattoo of a darkened angel. I did some research, and according to MegaWiki, members of a hacking group called the ‘Dark Angels’ use tattoos to identify rank.”
“That’s all interesting, but what does that got to do with me?”
“I was wondering if you could look up these guys on the dark web. Besides the wiki site, I cannot find anything about this hacking group.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks, Nige, let me know what you find. I would hate to think I helped in some kind of plot.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Milo, but I’ll do the research.” He hung up.
Jet gave Nigel a strange look.
“What’s on your mind?” Nigel asked.
“Our new business hasn’t been open that long, and we have already had some strange experiences. First the cyborg video and Melissa’s call. Not to mention whatever Milo was calling about,” Jet said.
“I agree something seems off—the timing of Melissa’s call is curious too. I think I’ll return her call.”
Melissa picked up the phone after a few rings.
“Nigel, it’s so good to hear from you, how are you doing, old friend?” she said in one breath.
She sounds different than she did the other day.
“Sorry it took so long to get back to you. We’ve been so busy setting up our new investigative services business. We got the lease worked—”
“Where is it located?” Melissa cut Nigel off.
“It’s in downtown Newport.”
“How far is that from New York?”
“Four, maybe five hours by car.”
“I’m staying at the Roxy near Times Square. Can you meet for a late lunch?”
“Today? I need to check with Jet, but I think we can make that work. But what’s the hurry?”
“I don’t want to get into it over the phone, but I’ll get us a reservation in town. We can discuss the matter then. Also, bring a change of clothes. Just in case. Also, will you let Jet know I brought April with me?” Melissa asked.
“Yeah, I’ll pass that along, and I’ll call you if something changes,” Nigel said as he disconnected.
“What was that about?” Jet asked.
“Do you want to go to New York?”
Jet frowned. “I don’t know, Nige, there is still so much to do here. Did she say why she needs to meet?”
“No, but her message did say something about hiring us,” Nigel said, smiling.
“I know you want to go to the city, but we don’t have time to go on a trip. We need to build the business.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. I know why April didn’t answer your messages.”
“Why?”
“Melissa brought her to New York.”
Jet’s expression brightened. “You should have led with that!”
“Great! We should leave soon if we are to make it there for lunch.”
Six hours later
N&J’s Investigative Services wasn’t far from the Newport Harbor, which meant it took a lot longer to get to the interstate. The weather was rainy, which caused the delay. Jet didn’t like driving on busy streets—let alone in Manhattan—but Nigel didn’t have a license.
“Wow, this place looks posh,” Nigel said as Jet pulled up to the Roxy.
“Everything in this place looks expensive,” Jet replied.
The valet took Jet’s car; then, moments later, they met Melissa in the hotel lobby.
“Nigel,” Melissa shouted from across the lobby.
She embraced him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You must be Jet,” Melissa said.
“I understand you had quite the adventure with Nigel,” Jet said, grabbing on to Nigel’s arm.
“Yes, I didn’t understand what he was doing most of the time, but if you had not sent clues to the island’s location, we never would have found you,” Melissa said.
Jet shuddered. She remembered the island where Jeremiah had taken her. While he didn’t kidnap her like the Sultan had, he made it clear she wasn’t his equal, either. Jet rubbed her eyes, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She missed the little girl who was so eager to learn everything life had to offer. She hoped April would return to her someday.
“Where’s April?” Jet asked.
“She’s resting in the room—plus, I need to fill you in on what’s been happening,” Melissa replied.
“I hope she’s okay, it’s a long journey from Scotland,” Jet said.
“I made reservations at the Chef’s Table, off Fifth Avenue,” Melissa said.
“What kind of food do they have?”
“Chef Michaels will make anything you want—you are my guest.”
Jet nodded. “Lead the way.”
Two hours later
Nigel couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a steak that good. He leaned back in his chair and savored the moment.
Chef Michaels had closed the restaurant for Melissa. After a rib eye and six other courses, Nigel was eager to hear what job Melissa had in mind.
“Now that we’ve filled our bellies and had some splendid company, you’re probably wondering why I have invited you to the city,” Melissa said.
“You said something about a job?” Nigel said.
“Yes . . .”
Melissa stopped mid-sentence. Jet nudged Nigel.
“You were saying, Melissa?” Nigel asked.
“Oh, sorry—I spaced out for a minute. It must be the wine.”
Melissa’s expression changed. She looked around the restaurant, checking to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation.
“Does it have anything to do with April?” Jet asked.
Melissa looked away for a moment. After a brief pause, she filled Nigel and Jet in on the assassination attempt at her home just days earlier.
“I don’t know who would want to harm us,” Melissa said, holding back tears.
“Do you have any disgruntled employees or business associates?” Nigel asked.
“All of my employees have been with me since the beginning, and I pay them well. But . . . a shell corporation has been trying to buy my interest in my father’s island near São Tomé. I own more than half that island but was planning on using it as a research site for many of the diseases April was born with. I can’t bring myself to sell.”
“I’ll do some checking on your perimeter security. Can you give me access to your security logs?” Nigel said.
“I’ll make sure you get full access.”
Melissa paused for a moment. “Something happened to April after we played the Colossal Machine with her. For months before that she’d sat looking into space or talking to herself. But after your gaming session, she seemed to come alive again. But after the events at the castle, she’s shut down again. That’s one of the reasons I invited you here.”
Nigel put his hand over hers. She took his hand and held it tightly.
“We will help you, Melissa,” Nigel said.
“You mentioned other reasons for inviting us?” Jet said.
“Yesterday, when I had to complete the paperwork for the Mason Foundation’s New York office, my assistant brought a matter to my attention.”
Melissa took a moment to compose herself and poured herself another glass of wine.
“Delta is not the only cyborg,” she said.
Nigel and Jet shared a look.
“Yeah, we sort of figured that out,” Nigel said.
Melissa looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
Nigel relayed his experiences with Peter’s video and the clues he had found while chasing the malware over the past two days.
“I will need to look into this amateur sleuth’s show,” Nigel said.
“There are several augmented humans. It surprised me to learn of how many there are, some just like April. Jensen, a man who runs my New York office, received a complaint about a woman who was a victim of a vicious attack. They found her in a battery park, holding the head of another woman in her lap,” Melissa said.
“That’s terrible! Is she okay?” Jet asked.
“She’s a cyborg, and the woman she was holding was her cyborg sister,” Melissa said.
“How many cyborgs do you know about?” Jet asked.
“Since the incident on the island I have been reviewing my father’s records, and Dr. Ash, the woman who transformed April into what she is today, had several more experiments leading up to Delta. Dr. Ash had a parallel project my father didn’t know about. That’s where this cyborg comes from.”
“How can we help her? I don’t think we can look up a cyborg specialist in the yellow pages,” Nigel said.
“I have someone in my employ. You will meet him soon,” Melissa said.
Late that afternoon
Nigel and Jet checked into their complementary suite that Melissa had arranged for them at the Roxy Hotel.
“I’ve never stayed anywhere this fancy before. Look at this tub!” Jet said.
“Do you want to take a bath?” Nigel asked.
“You mean together?”
Jet took a clump of Nigel’s hair with one hand and pulled his head into position.
“I’ve got you now,” Jet said as she kissed him.
Sometime later, Nigel awoke from a dreamless sleep. Since the shooting incident in Milford a couple of years ago, Nigel had been having constant nightmares about the various people who had tried to harm him. Hunter had scared him the most: the scar, the cold, calculating eyes, and that malevolent grin gave him the chills. When he slept with Jet those feeling went away. He shifted his gaze to the girl he had fallen for, and the woman he hoped he would spend the rest of his days with. The young lovers ordered room service and watched movies from their hotel room for the remainder of the evening.
Nigel shook off the feeling as the first rays of sunlight reflected off nearby windows. The city was waking up, and he would be ready for it.
An hour later, the room phone rang. Nigel was getting out of the shower and Jet was still asleep. Nigel answered the phone; it was Melissa.
“Are you ready?”
“For what?” Nigel said.
“To meet the twins, the cyborgs I told you about. They require some technical help, Nigel.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“One cyborg was shot point-blank in the face. There was significant damage, and she’s still offline.”
“You said something about technical help. Is that repairing her?” Nigel asked.
Melissa was silent for a long moment.
“Has she healed . . . by herself?” Nigel continued.
“It appears that way, Nige. Her biology is advanced. I have a doctor coming, but he will need some technical help. I was hoping you could—help, I mean.”
Jet stirred as Nigel spoke.
“Who is that, Nige?” she asked.
“It’s Melissa,” he mouthed to Jet.
Nigel watched Jet lying in bed as he spoke. His eyes were drawn to the cleavage that had grown since he’d met her; a tingling sensation spread to various parts of his body. Jet smiled and gave him a tired smile, then made her way to the bathroom.
“We can be there in an hour, or perhaps a little later,” Nigel told Melissa.
“We will pick you up in an hour, don’t be late,” Melissa said as she disconnected the line.
About ninety minutes later, Nigel and Jet met Melissa in the lobby of the Roxy Hotel.
“We’re late. The doctor is already onsite,” Melissa said.
An enormous-looking bald man in a suit helped Nigel, Jet and Melissa into the large sedan then got into the driver’s seat.
“This is George. He is here for your safety,” Melissa said.
“Hello George,” Nigel said cheerily.
George responded with a grunt.
After an hour of driving in New York city traffic, the driver made it to a nondescript Brooklyn warehouse. Nigel and Jet followed Melissa inside. The warehouse was vast and occupied with various crates, boxes, and other containers. The afternoon sun glistened off the East River, and it was almost too bright to look at. The musty smell of rotting cardboard assaulted Nigel’s nose.
Melissa’s driver whispered something in Melissa’s ear. Moments later, the man motioned for the group to follow. He led them through a maze of boxes, crates, and barrels that were stacked to form rows.
Where are we going? Nigel wondered. We must have walked several city blocks by now, but we are still in this warehouse? This place is massive.
The man stopped abruptly at a door in a wall as featureless as the warehouse; no windows or any other distinguishing features were apparent. They had painted the door the same color as the walls: a ruddy brownish-gray that camouflaged it.
“You may want to prepare yourself before we go in—it’s not a pretty sight,” the bald man said.
Jet gave Nigel a worried look and gripped his hand, but said nothing.
“I am prepared,” Melissa said.
Nigel nodded.
“Will your girl be okay?” the man asked. “She looks nervous.”
“She’ll be fine,” Nigel said in a tone that lacked confidence.
How bad can it be?
The bald man opened the door. Nigel thought he could hear whimpering, but he wasn’t sure. He followed the bald man, and Melissa followed behind.
Jet entered last. She took a few hesitant steps toward the center of the room. She seemed more uneasy now that she was inside. Bloodstains and drag marks were visible. It looked like an animal had gotten injured and dragged itself into the darkness.
Nigel tried looking into the blackness. He could see the faint glow of an illuminated desk lamp in the distance.
“Did you bring help?” a female voice said.
Nigel tried looking for the source of the voice, but a man was examining a woman who was lying on the ground while another woman—who looked like the first—held her close, staring down at the lifeless body.
Is she dead?
An older man with a salt-and-pepper beard looked up. “Good you’re here. Did you bring the hacker?”
Melissa motioned Nigel over.
“I’m going to wait here,” Jet said.
As Nigel approached, he looked at the girl, who was lying faceup. She was perhaps a year or two older than Nigel, was pretty, and had a blank stare. Half of her face was peeled away. Bone, metal, and caked blood could be seen. The other, similar-looking woman was still looking mournfully down at the fallen compatriot. There were slight diff
erences between them, but Nigel could tell they were related.
“Are you here to help us?” the female cyborg said.
Nigel gave her a sorrowful look but said nothing. The female that was alive was in terrible shape. One of her eyes was missing, and he could see rope burns on her wrists. Her black leather outfit was ripped in several places. Nigel could see pale flesh and metal in areas around her waist where the outfit was ruptured.
“Yes, I’ll help if I can,” Nigel said without thinking about it.
“What I need is a reverse engineer. A hacker who can reverse engineer code would be perfect, but I’d settle for something less,” the old doctor said.
“Who are you?” Nigel asked.
“My name is Brody,” the doctor replied.
“Nigel Watson. And don’t worry, I have the skills you require.”
Nigel held out a hand, and Brody shook it with some reluctance.
“We need others, but with your experience with Delta, we thought you could also help in other ways. At least until we get more trusted advisors,” Melissa said.
“What happened to them?” Jet said as she approached the group.
“The dead one was shot point-blank with a special weapon,” Brody said.
“Special? In what way?” Nigel asked.
“A normal gun would have caused more physical damage. When a bullet hits bone, it shatters. More tissue damage would also be visible if it were a conventional weapon.”
“So you think they designed this weapon for cyborgs?”
“Yes, all the evidence supports that theory. There is a lot of damage to the underlying electronics in the head. But it affected other unseen areas. For example, the gunshot also affected some circuits in the torso area.”
“What kind of weapon is it then?” Nigel said.
“If I had to guess, I would say it was an EMP, but I don’t for sure.”
“I didn’t know it was possible to harness a full electromagnetic pulse into a gun,” Nigel said.
“Not a full pulse, but something strong enough to cause a great deal of localized damage. A full pulse would have wiped out all electronics in the area,” Brody said.
“Can we revive Meeka?” the cyborg said.
“Who’s Meeka?” Jet asked.