Erebus

by R K MacPherson

Dash’s eyes traced the outline of the story to highlight it. “Save this one.”

  Iris took the story, folded it up, and placed it in a bag, then winked. “Okay!”

  In the rearview mirror, the silver sedan stayed two car lengths back. Most people wouldn’t notice the innocuous vehicle in LA traffic, but his foster father had schooled him well in counter-surveillance, among other things.

  Proper surveillance technique called for multiple vehicles, running ahead and parallel to his car, as well as one behind. They could switch positions from time to time, preventing the target from growing suspicious.

  That these guys were the only ones following him suggested that they were eager to keep the operation small, contained.

  While Dash possessed the skills to evade them, doing so would risk too much. Better to bide his time and look for a hole in their coverage. If he could get to another vehicle, he might be able to disappear.

  “Iris, search for Project ORION, not Mars.”

  Iris ran her search while Dash got off the 110, turning left and heading into downtown.

  “I found thirty-one references.” Iris jumped in triumph.

  “Anything in Los Angeles?”

  Iris looked crestfallen. “No, sorry.”

  Dash glanced over his shoulder and saw the silver sedan turn onto Sixth Street, still tailing him. “Any matches with the Olympus Initiative?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “NASA?”

  “Please say the command again.” Iris looked embarrassed.

  “Never mind. Just show me Project ORION. Images only.”

  “Okay!”

  As Dash drove, Iris threw images into his field of vision. Most looked similar, a long vehicle, not unlike the Saturn V rocket. Dash shook his head and was about to berate Iris for her crappy search algorithm when something caught his eye.

  “Display third image,” he ordered, grateful that a traffic light turned red and brought the cars to a halt.

  He gasped as he saw the picture. Despite the Jeep’s air conditioning, sweat dotted his skin.

  The third image took up his entire field of vision. The long cylinder with a cone near the top changed to a rust-colored segment at the end, which terminated in four long pipe assemblies and a massive plate.

  “Rasul, what did you find?”

  Dash sat at the Beverly Center food court, sipping on a lemonade and munching on a pretzel, more to blend in than because his stomach rumbled. He’d lost his pursuers near the mall entrance by jumping over a curb and cutting past a bus, which stopped and honked its horn at him. He hadn’t cared, because it gave him time to zip around to the other side of the parking lot and ditch his Jeep.

  Once inside the mall, he’d bought a baseball cap, running shoes, a pair of jeans, wraparound sunglasses, a light blue jacket, and a black T-shirt, ditching his more professional clothes in exchange for a chance at anonymity. This late in the afternoon, people would start showing up in the mall to relax for the evening. Casual clothes would fit in better.

  Iris couldn’t find anything about Project ORION that didn’t relate to NASA’s aborted Mars program or to papers written decades earlier. Staring at other articles on his phone, he marveled at the concept. Orion ships literally rode nuclear detonations into and across space. The assembly and plate at the end were the shock absorbers and thrust plate. The Nuclear Test Ban Treaty had ended any hope of developing and testing an Orion vessel, though.

  If Rasul had discovered evidence that the United States had developed such a craft in violation of the treaty, Dash could see how that would make him a threat, but not one that warranted an extra-judicial killing.

  Dash glanced around, scanning the food court for signs of his pursuers. His appearance had changed enough that no casual search would spot him, but these weren’t casual people. Still, he trusted the hairs on the back of his neck to keep him safe.

  As a kid, his parents had dropped him off at whatever bookstore a mall had. They knew he’d entertain himself for hours, reading books and magazines. Rasul, on the other hand, had hated books as a kid. He always wanted to visit the toy store. Dash hadn’t seen a real bookstore in years, much less one in an expensive location like a mall.

  He wished he had access to one now for the familiar smells and security new books brought to mind, if nothing else.

  Dash absently ran his fingers through his shaggy hair as his eyes flitted from one person to the next. He had three avenues of escape if he needed it, plus any number of others if he ran through one of the food court stands. He was as safe as he could make himself, so why did he feel nervous?

  A sudden sensation of being watched came over him and Dash glanced back. No one obvious stood out to him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. Better to be safe than sorry. Dash threw his garbage into the recycling and composting bins, then walked to the exit. A blonde man and a black woman dressed in casual suits walked through the outer doors not thirty feet in front of him.

  Dash spun on his heels and widened his stride, anxious to put more distance between them. They’d found him, but how?

  “Riordan, stop!” The woman called out.

  Dash broke into a run, no longer concerned with how he looked. Two sets of eyes had seen his current outfit and would track him. If he didn’t break contact, he couldn’t change it again and vanish. Trading his boots for sneakers with excellent grip made that easier. Dash sprinted towards the intersection, about to turn right when he spotted the two men from Saffron Road. One had his finger to his ear, hunched over as he concentrated. The other looked behind them.

  Dash couldn’t stop, so he poured on the speed and turned left instead, slipping through the stream of shoppers.

  “There he is!” A man’s voice this time. “Riordan, freeze!”

  “No way,” Dash gasped. He spotted a sporting goods shop to his right and leaped onto a bench, then over a children’s play area. Parents shrieked and yelled as he ran past their children, who all stared up, jaws dropped.

  His pursuers went around, giving him crucial seconds to work with.

  He lost sight of them as he ran into the store, so he jumped to the right and made his way along the wall, mouth opened wide as he tried to gulp down air in silence.

  The man dashed into the store and glanced around, then bolted for the entrance on the far side of the store. The woman followed a moment later, a black and yellow taser in her hand. She didn’t stop, but ran to the right, covering the section of the store her partner couldn’t.

  Dash stripped off the jacket and cap, leaving them on the floor. His black T-shirt was plain, not what any of his pursuers expected to see. To change his profile, he piled his hair up into a topknot. After taking a deep breath, he walked back out the way he came, staring at his phone with a bored expression on his face. Just another shopper, too engrossed in his phone to care about anything around him.

  He needed to get out of the mall before his pursuers locked it down. If they were actual cops, there would be a dozen cars speeding towards the shopping center to cover all the exits, but that sort of thing called a lot of attention to the situation. Dash didn’t think these people wanted a lot of attention.

  Best not to test that theory, though. Dash turned right and headed for the end of the concourse, looking for an exit on the opposite side of the mall. A conveyer-belt sushi shop fit the bill and he slipped inside, moving past the few customers who kept their eyes on the platters of sushi. He opened the outside door and out into the orange skies.

  “Don’t move, Riordan!”

  Shock made him do just that. He stared ahead, wide-eyed, until he heard footsteps closing on him. Two men, different from the team in the mall, charged him.

  Dash broke into a run, again grateful he’d switched shoes. He heard the men shouting, summoning help to bring him down. He didn’t have much time.

  Only thirty meters separated him from the pursuers, but the men had longer strides and were closing the gap. He couldn’t outrun them, so he had to outthink or out
fight them.

  Dash bet everything on outthinking.

  He turned left and ran into one of the parking aisles, dashing past empty cars. The men split up. One kept running along the main road, while the other followed him. They meant to corner and pinch him. Dash spotted a pair of minivans two aisles over, so he cut through the cars. His heart thundered in his ears and a cramp pinched his side. As Dash got to the vans, however, he crouched low, disappearing from view.

  The man in the street had no way to see him, so he’d try to get ahead and spot Dash. That meant the other would have to get in close to find him. Dash scurried around to the side of the blue minivan and climbed up on the rear bumper, squatting to keep out of sight. His hand gripped the rear wiper, which he prayed didn’t pop off and dump him on his ass.

  The pursuer wore dressier shoes, which made some noise as he walked. He took light, deliberate steps, but Dash could still hear him. He approached on his right. The steps paused, and Dash’s mouth went dry. Had he spotted him? Was a bullet about to punch through the car and kill him?

  He heard a faint grunt, followed by a light scrape.

  His pursuer was close, and he’d laid on the ground to check under the van. No time to plan, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

  Dash vaulted off the van and attacked. The man’s eyes widened just as Dash’s foot connected with his face. Teeth and blood flew as his head snapped back and he rolled over. He yelped before Dash grabbed the man’s head and bashed it against the ground twice, silencing him.

  His partner would have heard that and would be coming. Dash stuck his trembling hand into the unconscious man’s pockets, pulling out a pistol, wallet, and a set of keys. He crept to the end of the van and peeked out but didn’t see the other guy. He scurried across to the next aisle, keeping his head low. He stuck the wallet into his pocket, slipped the pistol into the back of his waistband, and looked at the keys. As expected, the fob had a button for an alarm, but he didn’t press it yet. He scanned the parking lot for his hunter but didn’t see him. He wanted a distraction to cover his movement. Whoever these guys were, they were good. Dash didn’t want to get caught.

  Plus, he was pretty sure the toothless guy’s partner would be shooting to kill once he found him.

  Instead, he moved away, keeping his head down, and pressed the alarm button on the fob.

  Fifty yards away, the honking alarm went off. Dash counted to three to simulate the time it would take a flustered person to find the button, then killed the alarm. Silencing the alarm would give it more credibility than letting it blare on.

  Dash scurried across the parking lot, zigging and zagging to avoid detection. He ditched the sunglasses and slipped on his AR goggles. Iris jumped to attention and beamed.

  “Iris, show me the map.”

  The very fact that more people were involved meant surveillance was over. He was a target now. There weren’t a lot of good places to go nearby. The best he saw was a hospital, but that seemed like a bad idea. He’d have to chance hiding out with someone. When he got to the street, he stood up and jogged for five minutes, putting distance between himself and the mall. He flagged down a taxi and climbed into the old Prius.

  “Where to, mister?” A middle-aged Latino glanced over his shoulder at him.

  Dash wiped beads of sweat from his face. “Across town. Take me to the Shisha Cafe Lounge, in Tarzana.”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out but didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  Castillo’s cold voice said, “You need to stop running, Dash. This is getting out of hand.”

  Dash shivered. How had they tracked down this new phone so fast? Sure, he’d made a few calls, but the cops couldn’t make the connection to him in a matter of hours.

  “How did you get this number?”

  Castillo snorted. “That’s not really important right now, Dash. What matters is that you can’t hide from us forever. Come downtown. We just want to ask you some questions. You can bring a lawyer—an army of lawyers, if that would make you feel better.”

  “Oh, sure thing. Just release the news story about my brother’s murder and let me have his body for burial.”

  “I can’t do that, Dash and I can’t explain why over the phone. Come see me. Let’s talk through this. I promise we can work this out.”

  Talking with Castillo was like negotiating with a viper. He gained nothing but let the serpent slither closer with each passing moment.

  “There’s no way you can win, so come in and let’s come to an agreement.”

  Castillo almost sounded sincere, but the memory of Rasul’s shattered head reminded him that everything the cop said would be a lie.

  “No chance.”

  Dash hung up and pushed the phone between the seat cushions.

  “Change of plans,” he told the cabbie. “Can you pull over at the corner?”

  “Si.” The cabbie shrugged.

  Dash paid the man, leaving a generous tip. He expected him to be stopped and questioned later. Better that the driver thought well of him.

  A distant rumble reached his ears, but the cloudless sky couldn’t produce thunder. He looked around until he spotted the rocket riding a roiling pillar of fire into the blue. Dash stared in amazement for a long minute. Rocket launches always thrilled him, though he hadn’t been aware of an impending flight. Covering the science and technology beat, he usually got alerted to things like that.

  On the street, he glanced around, but saw no signs of pursuit. Disconnected from the cellular connection, Iris sat cross-legged, puffing at a lock of pink hair. Dash needed another change of wardrobe, so he walked east three blocks before flagging down another cab. An older woman drove this one.

  “Where ya going, honey?”

  If Castillo could track him with impunity, hiding out amongst the other residents of Little Persia wouldn’t do him much good. He needed some help, a place to hide out for a bit. Castillo knew his identity, so his apartment would be watched. He couldn’t head back to the office. Even if Nancy wanted his head on a spike, it was the next best place to wait for him. A hotel would need a credit card, unless he slummed it up a little...or a lot. He didn’t want the drama of calling up an ex, and he didn’t have all that many friends.

  An idea clicked in his mind and Dash smiled.

  “Beverly and Fairfax, please.”

  Eleven

  YIFEI CLIMBED INTO THE front seat, tossing her purse into the passenger’s seat. Dash, his back aching from lying on the floor behind her, tried his gentlest voice to avoid startling his best friend.

  “Yifei?”

  Yifei thrashed as she screamed, keys flying from her hands.

  “It’s me! It’s Dash!” He reached up and touched her elbow.

  “What?!” Yifei turned around and looked down. “What the hell? Dash, you scared the hell out of me!”

  “I’m so sorry!”

  “How did you get in there anyway?” Yifei demanded.

  “You keep your spare key in the wheel well.” Dash offered it to her.

  Yifei took it as she shook her head. “Shit, I think you just took five years off my life.”

  “Turn around and get us out of here, will you? I need a place to hide for a bit.”

  Yifei complied. “How long have you been here anyway?”

  “Not sure. A few hours at least. Why? What time is it?”

  “Eight.”

  Dash sighed. “Okay. More than a few hours. No wonder my back is killing me.”

  Yifei put the car in gear and drove out of the parking garage. The bouncing sent spasms of pain through Dash’s back and legs.

  “Why are you hiding in my car?”

  “When I left the restaurant, they followed me. I tried to hide at the Beverly Center, but they tracked me down. A bunch of them.”

  Yifei gasped. “What? How?”

  “This is nuts, but they called me on the new phone. Seriously, I’ve had it less than a day and they found me.�
� Dash rolled his eyes.

  “So, they tracked it and probably anyone you talked to.”

  “Seems likely,” Dash admitted.

  Yifei glanced over her shoulder. “And you’re hiding with me because?”

  Dash smirked. “You just moved. Your information won’t match up where you live.”

  “My phone will.”

  Dash lifted a plastic bag with his foot. “Gotcha covered.”

  Though she took some convincing, Yifei agreed to take the battery out of her phone and make do with a cheap burner phone for a few days. After leaving her car at a parking lot, they grabbed a cab, and headed back to Yifei’s new apartment.

  Standing in the kitchen, Dash gulped down some orange juice and massaged his lower back muscles. “It feels good to stand up. If we’d waited another hour, I think I’d have turned into a pretzel.”

  “I bet if you’d come to my yoga class, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Yeah, I’m not really bendy before dawn.” Dash winced. “Or anytime, come to think of it.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Yifei pulled a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and grabbed two spoons.

  Dash accepted a spoon and scooped out some ice cream. The cold sweetness restored a large amount of normality and some of the tension melted from his muscles. “Well, I need to find out what the Olympus Initiative is hiding and why the Navy is building an ORION-powered aircraft carrier.”

  “Carriers are built by thousands of people. A secret like that would be hard to keep,” Yifei pointed out.

  “Hard, but not impossible by any means.” Dash’s tongue smeared a cold ball of cookie dough across the roof of his mouth. “The Manhattan Project was at least as large, yet it stayed secret.”

  “That was just the atomic bomb, though.” Yifei shook her head. “No way something that big could stay hidden these days. So many cameras, phones, smart devices—it couldn’t be done.”

  In some ways, she was right. Rasul’s own investigation showed how fragile the security web around the endeavor must be. Dash’s mind drifted into memory as he recalled his brother’s gunfight, the gory devastation to his face as he died. He still hadn’t found his body, still hadn’t laid him to rest.