“Let’s move,” said Alyssa, heading for the door. The machine followed her of its own accord, Twonky trailing it with fingertips resting gently on its surface and Yurei walking alongside. Mat followed the others to the elevator, tension still dancing beneath the surface of his skin. Even after they’d loaded the chamber into the van and were speeding along the city streets, he did not allow himself to relax.
It was a long trip with the team in the van, then with just Alyssa in a pod, before they reached their destination and unloaded their sleeping cargo. At long last, Mat allowed himself a deep, shaky breath.
“We did it,” he said, as much to himself as to Alyssa. “We’ve got him.”
“And now?” she asked.
“And now we avoid whatever was coming. Whatever comes next, it’s better than whatever he had planned.”
XIX
“For obvious reasons, it begins to get a bit speculative here. Even I have limits.”
“He can’t just be missing. No one goes missing anymore.” Keystone paced restlessly through the living room, a caged animal. The rest of the team sat, their concern no less tangible for its lack of physical expression. The mood in the room was dark.
From the couch, Asclepius offered, “People do go missing all—”
Keystone cut him off. “Shut up. Foresight doesn’t. There’s no note, no message. He’s not responding to waves. This isn’t a case of him just going out to the store and forgetting to tell us. Someone’s got him. Someone managed to get past his aug and they got him.”
“How do you get past an aug of choosing the best future?” Asclepius asked.
“I don’t know! Maybe they set things into motion far enough back that this conclusion was unavoidable. Maybe they have a counter-aug.”
“Maybe this is a thing he’s doing on purpose,” Mimic suggested. Keystone wheeled to fix him with a glare, and he held up his hands in a motion of pacification. “Paix, s’il vous plait. I’m not saying he has run off. I’m saying this could be part of a plan, some thing he saw that required this. You know that Sight often acted without explaining himself to us. This may not be a worst-conclusion situation.”
“And if it is?” challenged Keystone. “What if it is, and we just spend the morning sitting around waiting? We’ve already wasted enough time as it is.”
She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, then wheeled on Asclepius. “This is your fault!”
“What? In what way?”
“You wanted to go out last night. If we’d hung out here to watch movies like I wanted, we would have been here for whatever happened. Or at least know when he left, or anything. All we know for sure now is that he was still here before dinner last night. That’s a huge window! It’s almost noon now!”
“Okay, I don’t think you’re being very—” Asclepius cut off as Golden Ruler rose from her chair in a fluid motion. Though the other three team members were still in street clothes, Golden was in her full armored regalia, complete with mask and spear. Her abrupt, decisive movement demanded the attention of the room.
“We’re losing more time arguing about what to do. First question: does he even have his wave on him?”
Golden’s question was met with silence. After it had hung there for a moment, she spoke again. “All right. I’m going to go look through his room, see if it’s there or not.”
Suiting action to word, she strode off toward the hallway. The remainder of the team stared after her until she disappeared around the corner, then rose to follow.
By the time they entered the room, Golden was already turning back from the bedside table, one gloved hand outstretched toward the door. In her upturned palm lay an etherwave unit. It was a small and unimportant-looking device, but it signified that the worst-case scenario was correct. Foresight was not simply out somewhere. He was gone.
“Still, maybe he—” Mimic began.
Golden closed her hand into a fist around the wave unit and held up one finger to forestall him. “How many copies of his suit did he have?”
“Three,” said Keystone.
Golden pointed mutely to the open closet, where three pristine white jackets sat crisply on their hangers. She stared at Mimic, her mask as impassive as ever, and he swallowed and shook his head.
Leaning her spear in a corner, Golden began to methodically disassemble the room, going quickly but thoroughly through each drawer and shelf, rustling each piece of clothing and examining each object. The others watched from the doorway as she finished her search and began again with the furniture itself, checking each side of the chair, dresser and bedside table before upending each one to investigate the underside.
She had the bed propped vertically against the wall, inspecting the underside of the frame, when Mimic called out, “Wait.”
Golden turned to watch, one hand effortlessly supporting the bed, as Mimic entered the room and knelt down where the bed had been, combing carefully through the carpet with his fingers.
“What did you see?” asked Golden.
“When you moved, the light—there!” Mimic held the carpet fibers aside, parting them to reveal a tiny metal dot, nearly invisible in the carpet pile. “Oh, I think it’s just a carpet tack. Macht nichts.”
Golden gestured to Asclepius to come hold the bed, then crossed to Mimic and knelt beside him. “No, it’s not. Look, it has a hole in the center.”
She plucked an inch-long fiber from the carpet and threaded it carefully into the hole. It slid smoothly in and disappeared, meeting no resistance. “This is a tube of some sort.”
Abruptly she stood again and swept out of the room, moving down the hallway with ground-eating strides.
“Where are you g—” Keystone called after her, stopping when she heard the front door slam. She looked at the others. “Do we go after her?”
“Look, I’m just holding a bed,” Asclepius said.
A crash came from downstairs, loud enough to be heard in the apartment and strong enough to be felt as a vibration in the floor.
“Okay, so we go after her,” said Asclepius, quickly settling the bed back to the floor. Keystone raced out of the apartment, the other two hot on her heels.
They exited the stairwell one floor down and were greeted by the sight of an apartment door splintered around the lock and hanging from one hinge. They hurried in and found themselves in a largely unfurnished apartment.
“Here,” called Golden from a back room. They followed her voice to find her running a hand over a large metal cylinder. The tank had thin hoses leading from one end up into the ceiling. Golden grabbed one in her fist and yanked, and the hose tumbled free. It was capped at the end with a tiny metal nozzle, no bigger than the head of a carpet tack.
“Foresight didn’t leave of his own volition,” she said, the hose a silent accusation dangling from her hand.
“What do we do now?” asked Keystone.
“We find him,” said Golden.
“Look, can you take the mask off?” asked Asclepius. “I can’t read you at all, and you’re coming across like a creepy automaton right now.”
Staring him in the eyes, Golden reached up and removed her mask. Although her torn face was etched with worry and grief, her eyes were no less steely than her mask had been.
“We find him,” she repeated. “We find whoever did this, and we make sure no one ever tries it again. Just like we’ve always done. This isn’t our first challenge.”
“But where do we start?”
Golden pointed at the floor, where indentations in the carpet showed that something heavy had been sitting. “We have clues. They put him on something, or in something. This tank came from somewhere. We follow the leads.”
“When people find out he’s missing, we’re going to have our hands full,” said Asclepius. “It’ll be like the early days all over again, idiots trying their luck to see who can beat us.”
“No one has to know he’s missing,” said Mimic. He gave a worried smile, which expanded into a broad grin as h
e flickered into Foresight’s image. He held out his arms, spinning briefly to allow the light from the window to glint off of the eye of gold stitched into the back of his jacket. “How do I look?”
“Convincing,” said Golden. “Then it’s a plan. We maintain the front that everything is fine. You fill in for Foresight in the public eye. And behind the scenes, we find who did this and we make sure it never happens again.
“First things first: we find out who owns this apartment. The building manager—”
Asclepius was already shaking his head. “Sight owns it.”
“What?”
“He owns it. He bought it years ago. Didn’t want anyone moving in underneath us. Liked the privacy.”
“Okay.” Golden looked momentarily uncertain, then rallied. “Then we’ll find out who else knew that. Who knew they could count on this place being empty, and staying that way. And we can still talk to the building manager to get a look at the tapes, see who came and went. I doubt we’ll be lucky enough to get a face, but you never know.”
A short while later, the team was crowded into the building manager’s front room, straining to make out details on the low-light recording. The building manager, at Golden’s request, was busying herself in another room. Although features were impossible to make out, the tape showed four shadowy figures loading a gleaming metal machine into the back of a van, then driving calmly out of view.
“They knew we’d be gone. They’re in no rush. They’ve got their own Reader Aug, something to get around him,” muttered Keystone.
Asclepius put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find him. We’re already on their tracks. We’ll get him back.”
Mimic stared intently at the screen. Although the lighting was poor and the resolution low, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen the figures at the front before. Something about the way they moved, perhaps? It nagged at him, and he silently attempted to will the screen into greater focus.
“Cool it, Mat,” said Alyssa.
“Cool what?”
“Quit checking the feeds. He was fine when we stashed him last night. He’ll be fine today. He’ll be fine for the rest of his natural life, or however long that coffin keeps him alive for. He’s fine.”
“Why do you think I was checking the feeds?” asked Mat, dismissing the video monitoring Foresight from his personal view.
Alyssa raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve known you for over thirty years. And you’ve been a worrier for all of those.”
“A planner,” corrected Mat.
“A worrier. You get a faraway look when you’re stressing about how things might play out wrong. And you tend to bring your wave feeds up at a spot in the lower middle of your left eye. So when you’ve got that wrinkle in your brow and you’re looking into space over my right shoulder, I know exactly what you’re doing and why.”
Mat gave her a half-grin. “I’m lucky you’re on my side.”
“You mean you’re lucky I allow you to be on mine,” Alyssa retorted with a smile.
“Either way. I’ll take it.” Mat paused, getting back on track in the conversation. “But seriously, you’re not concerned about him at all?”
“Look. I trust Moloch’s machine implicitly. If he built it, it will do what it’s designed to do. Have you ever heard of someone’s wave crashing? The things he built work.
“Secondly.” Alyssa ticked off the points on her fingers. “If the coffin does fail, what good is seeing it on the feeds going to do? You think you can notice, drop what you’re doing, run to the secure area and fix things? I’ll remind you that you didn’t want to simply shoot him because you were pretty sure that his aug would react fast enough to respond to a bullet that had already hit him in the brain. I don’t know if you picked up another aug while I wasn’t looking, but if not, I don’t think you can get there in time.
“And third: if he does recover and step back in time, you’ll literally never know about it. The part where you see it on the monitors won’t ever have happened. So calm down, take a deep breath and get on with your life.”
“If you’re so sanguine about this,” asked Mat, “then how come you won’t say his name anymore?”
Alyssa grinned. “Because I can logically understand all of that, and still be superstitious. I don’t say ‘Bloody Mary’ into mirrors, either. I’m clear on the fact that nothing’s going to happen. But there’s also nothing to gain by doing it, so I let my irrational side have its way.
“I don’t, however, sit around staring at video feeds of mirrors on my wave, just in case something goes wrong. So close the monitors and get back to work.”
“You’re not much of a lunch date,” said Mat, standing up.
“Says the man who, instead of making conversation, just spent the last several minutes watching another man sleep.”
“Okay, it sounds weird when you put it like that.”
“Good! Then think of that the next time you want to peep on him. Wait for the alerts and otherwise leave it alone.”
As Mat walked back to his office, he received a message notification from Judah.
I need a minute of your time. Have time to talk?
How long a minute? I can clear time, Mat sent back.
Five actual minutes, tops. This afternoon?
I can do it now. Mat sent Judah a call request, and was surprised when it was rejected.
I’d rather do this face-to-face. Can be there in an hour.
Hour works.
Mat’s augment gnawed lightly at his insides. He muttered to himself as he walked. “I need to avoid the meeting. I need Alyssa with me. I need to have others there with me. I need to be alone. I need to be honest. I need to lie.”
He stopped walking to better feel the tiny changes in sensation. “I need to meet Judah alone, and I need to lie.”
Mat still felt discomfort, but that was at the fact that he was planning to lie to a lifelong friend. His augment seemed calm, which meant that it was probably the best maneuver. It didn’t sit well, though.
You kidnapped a man and imprisoned him for life, Mat told himself. You thought everything was going to be back to normal after that? This is only the first hurdle.
By the time Judah was scheduled to arrive, Mat had schooled himself into total calm. He was unflappable, ready to look Judah in the eye and lie to him. It had to be done, and he was prepared to do it.
Or so he told himself until his desk speaker buzzed. “Director Roche? Foresight here to see you.”
Mat’s heart hammered in his chest. Instantly, he pulled up the video feeds of the coffin to find out what had gone wrong—only to see Foresight sleeping peacefully, his face slack, his breathing regular.
Then how was he here? Was there more to his aug than they had understood? Could he exist twice in the same timeline simultaneously? Why had Judah pretended that he needed to talk?
With that thought, the pieces fell into place. Mimic.
Mat took a steadying breath. “Escort him up,” he said, pressing one hand to his chest as if by doing so, he could slow his heart back to a normal speed. He closed his eyes, took several deep, calming breaths, and fixed a smile on his face before exiting the secured control center.
He was standing in the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe, by the time the elevator doors opened. Even knowing that it was Judah in disguise, Mat felt a frisson of fear when he saw that immaculate white suit and the confident smile above it. But he forced his smile to remain in place and waved at his visitor.
“Welcome! I’ve got him from here,” he added to the guard, who nodded and turned back to the elevator. “Here, come into my office.”
He led the way to a small conference room and closed the door before finally saying, “Judah?”
Foresight spread his arms and turned slowly around, the eye on his jacket staring balefully at Mat before it rotated out of view. “A pretty good rendition, non?”
“Oui. But why on earth are you pretending to be Foresight?”
Mat was pleased with how natural the question sounded, how calm.
Foresight’s image melted away, revealing an older, taller man in jeans and a wrinkled, earth-tone t-shirt. Judah sighed, letting his gangly form slump into an uncomfortable chair.
“I left the apartment this way, and there wasn’t really a good time to change. Anyway, it’s good practice.”
“Yeah? This can’t be the first time you’ve portrayed him.”
“No, but it’s going to be the longest.” Judah cocked his head to the side and stared up at Mat. “Mat, did you take him?”
“What?”
“Did you take Foresight. Look me straight in the eye and tell me yes or no.”
Mat stared back at his oldest friend. “No,” he lied. “I had no idea he was missing.”
Judah sighed again, seeming to crumple even further. “Yeah. Yeah, he went missing last night. There’s video of four dudes loading him into a van and driving off. Way too grainy, no details, but two of them reminded me of you and Alyssa.”
“Jesus, man. No,” said Mat.
“Yeah, I know, I know. And I can’t even say exactly what it was that made me think of that. But we’ve got no leads right now, and you know the government does stuff way shadier than this. So I figured I’d come ask, and see.”
“If I had done it, I’d never admit it,” said Mat. “You know that.”
“Yeah,” said Judah. “But I’m pretty good at knowing when you’re lying. And I don’t think you’re lying to me right now.”
“You going to ask Alyssa?”
Judah shrugged. “Captain black ops? No point. I never could tell when she was lying. And if she had taken him, it would’ve been on your orders. So I figured I’d cut to the source.”
“I wish I could help you,” said Mat. “What can I do?”
“Nothing.” Judah straightened up. “Seriously, do nothing. We’re not letting anyone know about this. That’s why I was walking around as Foresight. We let word get out that he’s gone, everything we’ve built for the last decade falls apart. People mostly still don’t know I exist, so I’m him until we track down whoever did this and get him back.”
Retroactivity Page 26