The other man pointed with his right index finger toward Erik’s left arm. “I read a lot of news stories about you. They almost never mention that you’re a Tin Man. I wonder if that’s because the government is suppressing the truth.”
Jia frowned. “It’s a war injury, and he’s never asked anyone to lie for him.”
Erik held up his hand to tell her to back off. She took a deep breath before nodding.
“Yeah,” he offered to Victor. “I lost my original arm in Wolf’s Rebellion, and the replacement became my lucky arm.”
“But you could replace it,” Victor insisted. “Easily. It can’t be that expensive. I understand it might have been an issue on the frontier, but you’re on Earth now.”
Erik patted his left forearm. “Did you miss the part where I said it was lucky?”
“You could leave us to our food,” Jia suggested. “Erik already told you we don’t have a lot of time.”
Victor shook his head. “But I didn’t know he was a Tin Man until recently. I was thinking, ‘Here’s a good pair of detectives. They both understand the importance of maintaining humanity.’ Then, finding that out really hurt. It was very disturbing.”
Erik chuckled. “Oh, I get it. This is some Purist crap, huh? I should have known from the beginning.”
“It’s not crap,” Victor insisted, his tone now strident. “It’s about having proper values in a degraded society, and it makes me wonder about the Rena Winston case, and the dispensations for all the criminals involved in it.”
Jia glared at him. “There wasn’t a single person involved in that case who got away with anything. The CID is still mopping up some people off-world, but it’s a high-profile warning to anyone who even thinks about messing around with illegal genetic engineering.”
“No, you’re wrong.” Victor shook his head, his expression one of disbelief. “That’s not true at all. I can’t believe how wrong you are.”
“How do you figure?” Erik asked. “I know it’s confusing and all, but the news articles don’t talk about everything involved in these cases. We worked the case, Victor. We know what happened.”
“But the changeling wasn’t punished,” Victor explained, his gaze shifting between the two, filled with a mix of pity and disgust. “Execution for those involved in illegal genetic engineering is common, as it should be to preserve our species.”
Jia shot out of her chair so quickly it fell back and clattered on the floor. The diner went silent, everyone looking their way. The servers froze in place, watching with alarm.
“You don’t execute a victim,” Jia offered, her voice tight. “That’s insane.”
“True purity means making no exceptions,” Victor replied. “That thing is out there pretending to be human, and our species as a whole is diminished. If you didn’t believe that on some level, you wouldn’t have gone after the people who made her.”
Erik rose from his seat, cracking his knuckles. “So, you think we should have killed a young woman who had no choice in what was done to her? I agree with my partner. That’s crazy.”
Victor sighed. “I’ll admit on reflection that’s perhaps too extreme.” His face brightened. “It’s easy. We could simply set up a colony where they won’t pollute the rest of us. A space station, maybe. If the laws are working, as you seem to think, there shouldn’t be a lot of them to worry about?”
“Like a leper colony?” Jia snorted in disbelief.
“Why not? We send criminals to colonies all the time.” Victor took a moment to turn toward the crowd before refocusing on Jia and Erik. “It’s a quarantine of sorts, so yes. It’s far more merciful than the alternatives. We must always remember the lessons of the past, or we’re doomed to repeat them.”
Erik walked up to the man and squared his shoulders, looking down at him with a frown. Even with only a minor difference in height, it felt like the detective towered over the Purist. Victor didn’t budge as he stared back.
“Between being a soldier and being a cop,” Erik began, “I’ve seen the worst humanity has to offer. I’ve seen cowards, murderous insurgents, and terrorists so evil it’s hard to believe we’re the same species. But I’ve fought all those twisted assholes because I know there are innocent people out there who need to be protected from the predators who don’t feel any pity or remorse.” He took another step forward, forcing Victor back. “Innocent people like Rena Winston.”
“You can’t really believe she’s a victim,” the other man insisted.
A vicious grin split Erik’s face. “Let me make this as clear as I can to you. Get out of my face, and I don’t ever want to see you again. And if I ever find the Navigator beignet recipe, you can’t have it, either. You don’t deserve it.”
Victor staggered back a few steps, complete disbelief taking over his face. “Did you just say ‘Navigator beignet recipe?’”
Erik grinned. “That’s right. I’ll call up Rena and offer her one, but you get nothing. Changeling gourmand wins over a Purist. You never thought about it? What the Navigators ate?”
A murmur went through the diner crowd. A few people chuckled.
Victor looked Erik up and down before turning toward the door. “I pity you, Detective. You’re far more disappointing than your articles suggest.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll make you eat some Leem cherry pie,” Erik replied. “Word on the street is they don’t understand it should have sugar or cherries.”
With a final harrumph, Victor hurried toward the door and out of the diner, looking over his shoulder every couple of meters as he rushed away on the parking platform. He muttered the entire way.
Erik settled back at his table. Everyone else took that as a signal to return to their meals and previous conversations.
He shook his head. “Some people, huh?”
“Leem cherry pie might be delicious,” Jia joked. “Even without sugar or cherries.”
“Maybe.” Erik smirked. “I’ll let you have a bite if I get my hands on some. Just a bite. Don’t know if I want to share that advanced pie tech.”
“Stingy with the super-pies. How much of the Navigator beignet do I get?”
Erik pinched his thumb and forefinger together close enough that a thread would have a hard time getting through. “That much, but it’s higher quality. I’m being generous here.”
Jia rolled her eyes. “I’ll remember this, partner.”
Erik gave her a merry grin.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Erik stifled a yawn. A stream of lights floated in front of him, all the flitters becoming the stars among the towers during a typical Neo SoCal night. With the lanes twisting and overlapping but constantly moving, from a distance, it looked like living strands of light engaged in a dance. It was beautiful in its own way. He didn’t always appreciate that when he was flying around, but tonight it struck him.
Emma appeared in the passenger’s seat. “If you’re excessively fatigued, it might make more sense for me to control the MX 60. If you crash and survive, I will be forced to remind you of your failure incessantly.”
“I’m good,” Erik insisted. “I’m actually more careful when I’m tired, and after that threat, there is no way I’m crashing.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Emma replied. “Though almost certainly incorrect. I also feel compelled to point out that you’re most likely being followed. You might want to take that into consideration.”
Erik’s hands tightened on the yoke. His gaze shifted between the various camera feeds and mirrors as he shifted lanes a few times, watching as a flitter not that far back matched his movements.
“This guy doesn’t know how to hide it,” he muttered. “Probably not a pro, but thanks for the early warning.”
“I took the liberty of temporarily borrowing a drone feed,” Emma explained. “You’ll find this extremely interesting.”
An image appeared in the corner of Erik’s lenses—a familiar face from earlier that day.
“The asshole from t
he diner?” Erik asked.
“This pure penguin is one Victor Urie,” Emma reported.
“Pure penguin?” Erik snickered. “That doesn’t seem all that accurate.”
“As if all the armed criminals you kill are literally goblins?”
“You got me there,” Erik admitted.
Emma offered a huge eye roll before continuing, “The flitter he’s flying is also registered to him unless he’s gone out of his way to fake a transponder signal pointing at him. So, there’s very little chance this is anyone other than Victor Urie unless someone is putting a lot of time and money into convincing you an annoying man from a diner is spying on you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Erik grunted in frustration, but irritation destroyed any hint of fatigue in his body. “This guy got a record? Assault? Stalking? Anything like that?”
“Interesting question,” Emma replied. “Confining myself to public and easily accessible police records so as not to raise suspicion, I found that the man had a minimal presence until a few months ago. He was working in a low-level position at a transport company. He quit and then started showing up at extremist Purist events in the local area. He hasn’t been arrested, but he has been ticketed a few times for disturbing the peace. He’s always paid his fines promptly. He does currently seem to be unemployed unless one counts his uncompensated protest work.”
“I’m going to give him a chance here, but only because I’m feeling generous, and also, I don’t want to have to start on any reports tonight.” Erik pushed in and twisted the yoke. His flitter broke from the lane and descended. “Find me a quiet place in case this nutjob is more than just talk. If he makes any moves, I’m putting a bullet in his head.”
A few seconds later, a navigational marker appeared. Erik maneuvered toward the marker, a brightly lit parking platform coming into view. Emma might not value human life much, but she appreciated that he did.
“Shall I request backup?” Emma asked.
Erik scoffed. “This amateur isn’t even trying to hide things, which means if you hadn’t told me, I would have noticed him soon enough. If he was going to make a move, he would have done it already. I think this is about a guy who wants to hear himself talk, and I’ve got a plan to deal with that. He just wants to do it somewhere without an audience.”
“Does your plan involve high-velocity bullets being introduced to vital organs?” Emma asked.
“No, that’s Plan B.”
Erik continued toward the platform, decelerating and checking every few seconds to ensure Victor was still tailing him. The bastard was as persistent as he was clumsy, but he also didn’t seem to be in a hurry. A man didn’t need a weapon for an aerial collision, as hard as it was to pull off with proximity alarms and emergency thrusters. If he was going to try to kill Erik, it almost certainly would occur on the platform.
“This is one downside to fame,” Erik muttered as he brought the MX 60 down on the far end of the platform away from any other flitters. For some reason, Jia’s property destruction joke popped into his mind. All he’d been doing was trying to go home. Victor Urie was the one who’d decided that would make things too easy in Erik’s life.
The detective threw open the door and stepped outside. A warm breeze blew past his face. It would be a pleasant night if an extremist Purist wasn’t following him.
“Not going to get your TR-7?” Emma asked, sounding surprised.
“If anything happens, I’ll enjoy it more if it involves me punching him with my cybernetic arm,” Erik admitted. “It’ll be all poetic.”
“I can understand the appeal.”
Erik folded his arms over his chest and leaned against his flitter, waiting with the most bored look he could manage. It didn’t take long for Victor’s flitter to descend about ten meters away from Erik and land. Victor opened the door and slowly stepped out, no obvious weapons on him other than the hatred on his face, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.
“Need something?” Erik called to him. “You put in all that effort to follow me, so I figured I’d reward you with a little one-on-one.”
“You knew I was following you?” Victor licked his lips. “I thought I was careful.”
Erik laughed. “You read about me, and you thought you could follow without me finding out?”
“I’ll admit to having underestimated you.”
“I’ve had everything from criminals to terrorists come at me. It’s going to take something more than an unemployed Purist extremist to get the drop on me.” Erik shrugged. “So, what’s your deal? You want to spit in my face? It’s not going to change anything.”
Victor shook his head. “You don’t understand. I pity you because you’re…not even human anymore. It’s extra pathetic because it was a choice. That’s one problem, but the real problem is Rena Winston’s existence. I thought perhaps if I spoke with you without your partner around, that would help you see reason.”
“Oh, we’re back to that?” Erik snorted. “Give it up, asshole. I like her more than I like your pure ass.”
“You don’t understand!” Victor yelled. “She’s just a symbol! Her existence is proof that vile ideologies are leaking back into the mainstream. Protests and social pressure can only accomplish so much. You’re a police officer; you’re supposed to stop this sort of thing. Don’t you understand that?”
Erik scratched his eyebrow. “I thought we laid this out for you at lunch. Rena Winston committed no crimes. I don’t know what they teach you in Purist protest school, but none of the major Purist associations or organizations said crap about wanting her punished. That makes you an over-the-line crazy idiot, not a brave Purist truthteller.”
Victor’s nostrils flared. “The other groups have been co-opted by those who have given up on preserving our purity. Our protectors are Tin Man abominations, and our entertainers are changelings? What hope is there in such a world?”
“That’s all you got?” Erik shook his head. “I’m disappointed.” He pointed his left thumb toward his chest. “I’ve dealt with a lot of terrorists, both as a cop and as a soldier. I’ve had a lot of them rant at me, too. You’re pathetic, Victor. They have all sorts of arguments, stats and crap like that, and all you have is tired lines somebody probably fed you.” He lowered his hand. “I know your kind.”
“What do you think you know, Tin Man?”
Erik stepped away from his flitter. “You were living an unfulfilling life. Corporate drone, but hated it. You got up every day asking yourself what you were doing and why. You spent a lot of time admiring people who did something you considered exciting, probably military and cops, mostly, but maybe even some frontier colonists.” He took a step toward Victor. “You’re a coward at heart, but some Purist extremist somewhere got your ear and fed you a line about how it’s not your fault that you ended up that way, it’s society’s. Tin Men. Changelings. Everyone’s at fault for the fact that you are pathetic except you. How am I doing, close or dead-on?”
Victor’s jaw clenched. His eyes filled with rage when Erik punctuated his monologue with a mocking grin.
“You arrogant abomination,” Victor shouted. “How dare you talk to me that way? I’m a real human being, not a twisted monster like you or Rena Winston! You’re everything that’s wrong with the United Terran Confederation, Erik Blackwell.”
Erik snickered. “Did I hurt your real human feelings? Maybe you should get a few replacement parts to help with that.” He patted his arm. “I’d send you to the guy who put this arm on me, but he’s not in this system.” His gaze lowered to Victor’s crotch, and he grunted. “But I’m sure there are locals who could help you replace a few things you’re probably missing. I’m sure even a Purist woman won’t complain about that modification.”
“You think you’re brave, don’t you? Because you’re a cop and a retired soldier.” Victor’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You don’t know what true sacrifice is. You’ve only played at it throughout your entire career.”
“Yea
h, the vet with thirty years doesn’t know about sacrifice, but the random purist does?” Erik shrugged. “I’d say let’s agree to disagree, but let me put it another way. You think you’re a tough guy because of a few protests? I don’t care. I don’t even care about your stupid beliefs, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me before you end up hurt. Because compared to some yaoguai or real-deal Tin Men, the kind I’ve fought and killed, you might as well be a puppy. You don’t want to piss me off.”
Victor threw his head back and laughed. He started pressing the tip of his left thumb against his other fingers. “I’ll show you. They chose me because they know I was meant for something more. Your arrogance ends tonight, Erik Blackwell.”
“My sensors indicate an unusual surge of energy in several bands coming from inside his left arm,” Emma reported.
Victor lowered his head. “Justice is served by those willing to sacrifice.” He lifted his head, his hateful gaze fixed on Erik. He sprinted toward Erik, head down.
Erik whipped out his slug-thrower and turned off the safety. He blew out both of the man’s knees with quick, single shots. Victor tumbled forward, hissing in pain.
“No!” Victor bellowed as he face-planted.
“Yes.” Erik holstered his pistol. “Nice try. I’ll give it three out of ten.”
A massive explosion blew Victor apart and flipped his flitter onto its side, leaving scorch marks along with a few sparking and burning grav emitters. The force of the explosion launched Erik into the air. He slammed into the side of the MX 60, pain spiking through his back, and he slumped to the platform as he took quick, ragged breaths.
“Shall I request emergency services?” Emma asked cheerfully.
“Yeah. Somebody’s got to handle the half-burning flitter, and it wouldn’t kill me to get double-checked.” Erik stared at the blackened spot on the platform where Victor used to be. “Well, shit. I’ll admit I didn’t expect that.”
“You didn’t?” Emma replied. “You took him out right away. You obviously expected it.”
Cabal of Lies Page 22