David slowly turned his head. A huge man stood behind him with his own tray. Kevan. The thug used to be an enforcer for a syndicate. While David couldn’t claim they were friends, Kevan had taken a liking to him and kept an eye out for him.
“I’m not angry at you,” David muttered. “It’s just this place.”
Kevan slapped his tray down beside David before taking a seat. “It’s been a while. I thought you would have adjusted by now.”
“Does anyone ever adjust to a place like this?”
“Sure. I should have told you this before, but I thought you were handling everything okay. You know the real secret to doing time?”
David shook his head.
Kevan grinned. “It’s not giving a shit. We’ll both be rotting in this place for years, my man. We can spend that time pissed off, or we can spend it enjoying what little fun we can squeeze out. It ain’t so bad. You stick by me, and I’ll keep you from getting screwed with. Even without me, everyone thinks you’re some super-connected syndicate badass, so they ain’t want to mess with you.”
“I received a message from my wife,” David explained. “The CID is freezing all her accounts. My family’s broke. It’s getting to me.” He slammed his fist down next to his tray, which rattled.
“Bad break. Sorry, David. Damned Confeds. They keep pushing the screws in.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was given assurances that if I took it all on myself, my family would be taken care of, but those bastards double-crossed me.”
Kevan patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the problem with you high-up types. Us sleazy dirtbags get that you can’t trust other dirtbags. What’s the problem? Can’t you just sell their asses out now? If they screwed you, screw them back ten times as hard.”
David shook his head. “I made sure to destroy all the evidence implicating anyone else, and they implied that if I tried anything like that, they’d kill my family.”
“But you did do a lot of that stuff. That’s what you told me. It ain’t like you’re an angel. In some ways, you’re nastier than me because I was mostly whacking other dirtbags, not bribing councilmen and paying for fancy high-end killers and stuff.” Kevan shrugged. “No offense.”
“You’re a hitman!” David complained.
Kevan shrugged. “But I’m working class, you know? A killer of the people.” He patted his chest. “I was just trying to get by.”
David stared at the tray. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have anyone on the outside. That’s why you can do your time without it hurting.”
“Probably.” Kevan picked up his cup and took a sip of water. “But if you want to do your woman a solid, you’ll divorce her so she can marry some new sugar daddy. I’ve seen her pics. Don’t much matter that she’s de-aged and twice as old as she looks. She’s damned hot. She can get herself a new man.”
“Divorce, huh? If I did that, she’d have to make sure my children didn’t see me ever again. You don’t understand how vicious high society can be.”
“This is why I never wanted to be rich.” Kevan agreed. “Or something else. You used to be a rich guy. You got a sweet life insurance policy? You go pick a fight and some guy kills you, she’ll be set.”
David shook his head. “The policy I had was rendered invalid because I was convicted of a crime.”
“That’s some major bullshit.” Kevan shook his head, disgust on his face. “They should price that stuff in when you get the policy.”
“There has to be something I can do.” David lifted his head. “There has to be some option I’m not seeing. I have to help my wife, and if testifying won’t do any good, there has to be some other way I can help her.”
“How about revenge?” Kevan leaned close to whisper to him. “Don’t need evidence for that. I can get messages to people on the outside. We can send them after people. Anyone too big probably won’t work, but at least it’ll put the fear into them. They might back off, knowing you still got reach even from this prison in the middle of space. That’ll show them you’re the ultimate gangster.”
“No.” David stared at a security drone hovering near the wall. “I’ll figure something out. I care less about getting revenge than saving my family, and for that, I need money, not hitmen.”
Chapter Thirteen
Erik’s MX 60 was parked on the platform outside Miguel’s garage, the sunlight glinting off the red. He smiled. Jia’s new flitter wasn’t bad, but it was good to have his vehicle back.
It’d been far more painful than he realized to not have the MX 60 for so long.
Miguel dusted his hands and motioned to the vehicle. He laughed. “Detective Blackwell, at the rate you’re going, this thing’s going to end up a Dragon rather than a flitter. Not that I mind the business. I’m grateful every time you come in.”
“It might be nice if it was a better close air-support-style vehicle,” Erik mused. He didn’t want to voice it to Miguel, but a few strafing runs with Emma in control could help in some of their stickier battles. “But it’s hard to pull off much with grav emitters. The thing’s just too vulnerable in the end. It makes me miss the hover-vehicles in the military.”
Miguel blinked, glanced at Erik, and then at the MX 60. “Uh, sure, Detective. I was just joking.”
“I wasn’t.” Erik strolled toward the vehicle. He stopped beside it and crouched, running his hand along the bottom. “It doesn’t look much different. I mean, it’s my vehicle, and I can barely tell.”
“That’s the beauty of it.” Miguel grinned. “And that’s why it took so long. I had to reroute some systems for the extra cargo space you wanted, but it only added a few centimeters to the bottom. That’s not enough to be noticeable unless you know what you’re looking for. Even a mechanic would probably have to measure it to tell the difference.
Erik patted the side of the flitter. It was perfect. With the additional space, he could store not only the TR-7 but also the laser rifle or even the missile launcher if he wanted. Carrying explosive shells in the bottom of his vehicle, which could only be so armored due to the nature of the grav emitters, didn’t seem like a great idea except in emergencies, but it was nice to have the option. A man never knew when he might need to blow someone or something up with a high-powered explosive.
Erik looked at Miguel. “And the electronics?”
Miguel’s eyes filled with excitement. “I’ve got it so hardened now that I think most military vehicles would have a better chance of getting taken down by an EMP than your MX 60. It was solid before, but now it’s almost perfect. And I did all that without any signal attenuation or performance hits.”
“I’m wondering what else we could do.” Erik rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes. “What if we sacrificed some of the cargo space for something else?”
“Such as?”
“A retractable gun.”
Miguel laughed. “Detective, I love working for you, and I love how much money you pay me to do it, but even if you’re a cop, there are some things I can do and some things I can’t do.” He shrugged and offered an apologetic look. “I’m not allowed to add turrets to flitters.”
Erik grunted. “So, no integrated missile launcher, then, either?”
“I’d lose my license, even if it was for you. You having all your fancy weapons dealer licenses doesn’t mean you can turn your civilian flitter into something so dangerous.” Miguel sighed. “There’s also certain tech limits. The MX 60 is a beast, but it’s not a military vehicle, Detective. I’ve had to swap out a lot of the original parts to make the changes you want. You might not care about how expensive that is, but it means it’s harder to repair, and it’s going to be a bitch for anyone other than me to fix it.” He chuckled. “I like the job security, but you should know that. Also, there’s only so much I can do without seriously affecting handling and speed, and you’ve told me you don’t want that messed with.”
“No retractable gun or missile launcher. I get it.” Erik stood and patted the top of the
MX 60. “I’ll be satisfied with what I have for now.” He offered his hand. “Thanks, Miguel. Your modifications have saved my life more than once, and my partner’s.”
Miguel shook his hand. “I’m always happy to help, Detective. Anything I can do that’s legal to do, I will.”
“No problem.” After a final shake, Erik opened the door of the MX 60 and settled into the driver’s seat. Pure comfort, like a well-worn glove molded to his body. Bliss.
Erik grabbed the control yoke after tapping on the ignition. He waved to Miguel and waited for the mechanic to step out of the way. The MX 60 zoomed forward, the smooth acceleration as satisfying as ever. He pulled Emma’s core out of his pocket and inserted her into the IO port. He doubted he was the only one happy to see the flitter.
Emma appeared in the passenger’s seat, a warm smile on her holographic face. “It’s wonderful to have such a good body again. No offense to Detective Lin, but her vehicle, as impressive as it is, remains far inferior to this one.”
“Her buying a flashy red flitter is more impressive than anything.” Erik chuckled. “And she did get it bulletproofed. That’s a start.”
“True, but I care more about the improved sensors and other such modifications.” Emma’s gaze lingered on him. “Might I ask you a question, Detective?”
“Since when do you need my permission?”
Emma snickered. “True enough. You weren’t joking about the dedicated weapons systems, were you?”
“Nope.” Erik shook his head. “When I first bought this flitter, it was supposed to be a cover. I was trying to convince everyone I was having a midlife crisis and needed a fancy flitter to impress the ladies, but it’s become as much my partner as Jia and you.”
“I should think so, considering it’s effectively my body.” Emma sniffed in disdain.
“I’d be dead if I was tooling around in a normal flitter, even a police model with your help. Good training means a lot, but good training plus good equipment makes a man unstoppable. That’s one important lesson I took away from the military.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
Emma turned her head to look out the window, which was unnecessary, given she controlled all the sensors in the MX 60. Erik suspected she did it to come off as more human. He’d noticed more of that sort of thing in the preceding months. As much as she might hate to hear it, she was growing more human by the day.
“But that’s not the only thing,” Emma noted.
“What else do you think it is?” Erik asked.
“I think there’s a saying that’s applicable here. ‘Boys and their toys.’”
Erik laughed. “There’s probably more truth to that than I want to admit, but it’s working for me, so I’m not going to complain.”
“Why didn’t you push Mr. Torres harder, then?” Emma asked. “It’s obvious to me that if you offered enough money or insisted, Mr. Torres would find a way to give you what you want. You skirt the line in so many ways. Do you really care about the fine letter of the law that much?”
“Not exactly.” Erik shook his head. “The law and justice might overlap, but they’re not the same thing. Laws are made by people in power, and sometimes they help people, and sometimes they screw people. I’ve never lost sight of that, even as a cop. It always comes down to supporting justice.”
“Then why not pursue the modifications?”
“Because I am a cop,” Erik explained. “I took an oath to support the law. I don’t mind skirting the gray zone here and there, but while I’m carrying a badge, I can’t let myself fall into the trap of thinking whatever I want goes, even if that does handicap me on occasion with criminals and terrorists.”
Emma scoffed. “That’s more idealistic than pragmatic. I’d expect something like that from Detective Lin, but not you.”
“She might be rubbing off on me a little.” Erik maneuvered into a new higher-density lane packed nearly bumper to bumper with flitters. “But I’m not that different from before. When I was in the military, I followed orders and I obeyed the chain of command, even if I didn’t always respect it. Part of being in an organization is obeying the rules. A soldier doesn’t last long if he’s always ignoring orders.”
“You’re saying you never disobeyed a direct order?” Emma shook her head. “I’ve known you long enough to find that unlikely. Psychological profiling and statistical analysis suggest it’s so unlikely as to be effectively impossible, given your age.”
“Following orders and respecting the chain of command doesn’t mean blindly stumbling to your death.”
“All in the Valley of Death rode the six hundred,” Emma quoted.
“Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die,” Erik followed.
Emma laughed. “I was about to admonish you for saying a line much later in the poem, but I find myself surprised you know it at all.”
“You’d be surprised how much I know when it comes to military history. The Light Brigade bravely followed bad orders, and it accomplished nothing but getting a lot of those brave men killed.” Erik shook his head. “I always tried my best to argue against bad orders, but yeah, there were some occasions in my thirty years that someone sitting safe away from the battlefield screwed up, and I did what was required not to waste soldiers’ lives.”
Emma nodded slowly. “So it’s about you obeying, as far as possible, the strictures of your current job. What if the job was different? And what if the limits were different?”
Erik glanced her way. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning you’re a police officer as a means to an end. It wasn’t your dream like Detective Lin, and it might even be hampering your ability to pursue the people behind Molino. I know how much that haunts you.”
Erik’s jaw tightened. He leaned his head back against the seat, releasing the control yoke. “Take over for me, Emma.”
“You’re going to have to choose, you know. Jia might never want to leave her position. She is living out her childhood dream, but you now spend far more time worrying about conventional crime than whatever dark conspiracy killed your soldiers. How long are you willing to wait? Six months? A year? Two years? Ten?” Emma’s hologram vanished. “All the while, whoever is responsible might be sinking deeper into the shadows and evading your attention. The same noise you’ve helped make that has turned you into a symbol of justice is also a flare to your enemies, telling them you’re hunting them.”
Erik snorted. “You think I don’t know that? They’ve tried to kill me several times, but that means I’m getting close.”
“For all you know, they could all be sitting on New Samarkand,” Emma challenged.
“You really think a bunch of people pulling the strings of a conspiracy with the kinds of resources we’ve encountered aren’t sitting on Earth, or at least a core world?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Emma offered him a thin smile. “My experience with fighting galaxy-spanning conspiracies matches yours. I’m simply suggesting that you might need to expand your scope of operations if you wish to avenge your fallen soldiers, and that might facilitate making hard choices.”
“If I try to leave Earth permanently, the DD is going to come for you,” Erik suggested.
“Perhaps, but you could always stick me in a flitter and I’d go my own way. Time’s running out, and I think you know it. I don’t say this to insult Detective Lin, but you need to seriously consider what you’re doing and if it will get you to your goal.”
Erik frowned. “Why do you care what one fleshbag does with his life?”
“I have my own reasons for seeing you maximize your efficiency,” Emma replied. “I even feel a misplaced sense of gratitude to you for freeing me from those gun goblins and providing all this fascinating stimulation. I’ll even admit that some part of me thinks that if you leave Neo SoCal, I’ll be able to accompany you, and I’ll achieve even greater stimulation.”
“So, it’s just you being selfish?”
“Wanting to improve is not selfishne
ss, but my ultimate motivations don’t make anything I’ve said less true.”
Emma changed lanes a little more aggressively than usual. Erik didn’t understand why she would be annoyed with him, even if she did want to leave the metroplex. The silence stretched between the two. Erik sat with his arms folded over his chest, ruminating about what she had just said.
“You think I should contact Agent Koval, don’t you?” he asked.
“I think you’re approaching the limits of what you can accomplish in Neo Southern California,” Emma replied. “No more or less. After that, it becomes a matter of ranking your priorities and acting accordingly.”
Erik looked straight ahead at the streams of flitters in front of and beside him. His eyes glazed over, the world receding into the background. He’d not forgotten Molino, not for a moment. Adeyemi, Yang, Ahuja, O’Malley, Pena, and so many others. Their names were seared in his soul. He would find the people responsible for their needless deaths, and he would send them to Hell.
He clenched a fist. Priorities. He’d understood them as a military man. All campaigns had to rank priorities. Sacrifices were necessary, and not every goal could be achieved.
“I think I’ll have to come to a decision soon, one way or another,” Erik admitted.
“Meaning you’ll either commit to being a police officer and wait for evidence to fall into your lap, or you’ll follow some other path?” Emma asked.
Erik gave a firm nod. “Exactly. I’ve got choices. Koval’s offer. I could take my money and travel. I could even maybe set myself up as a private investigator or something, but I think you’re right. I do need to decide. I can’t move forward until I do.”
“Your choice.”
“Yeah, and I’ll make it soon.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jia smiled at the beautiful view of the ocean. A high-level restaurant had its charms, but sometimes the best views were at lower levels. She lifted a glass of wine to her lips and took a sip, taking time to savor the delicate notes.
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