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Authors: Frank J. Fleming

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BOOK: Superego
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The waiter came by with our drinks. “Enjoy,” he said as he set them down.

Morrigan grabbed her drink and tossed it at me, and I was just able to get my arm up in time to keep the scalding hot liquid from hitting my face. She stood up. “We will not talk again. You're not worth my time.” She looked at the waiter. “He'll pay.” And she stormed off.

Some of the drink had hit near my forehead and dribbled down my cheek. It did have an interesting flavor. I'd give her that.

I swept my hotel room with a bug scanner. I felt I was spending too much time in my room, but it was secure, and it was the place I knew best on planet. “So nothing yet?”

“I will be sure to inform you when I hear something,” Dip said. “Are you bored? We can play a game.”

“I don't like games.” Unless they involve dexterity and mallets. “Any news on Diane?”

“More of the same. They're asking anyone who sees her to contact the police immediately.”

At which time, presumably, the syndicates would react to the information before the law would.

“Also,” Dip said, “some of her friends have been interviewed by the media. They say she was always very shy but friendly and that it is hard to believe she's a killer—other than her lawful killings in the line of duty, I presume they mean.”

Friendly and shy was who Diane really was. It didn't seem like she was putting up a front to conceal herself. On the other hand, if I ever acted like myself, people would say, “He sure was emotionally detached and seemed annoyed by the mere existence of other people. It makes perfect sense to hear his job was to kill people.”

“Out of curiosity, what exactly do you expect to learn by eavesdropping on Morrigan?”

I always wondered how Dip's curiosity algorithm worked. “I don't expect anything. I'll just find out what I can find out and proceed from there.”

“And if you feel you have no further use for Melanie, will you then dispatch of her?”

It was that simple, wasn't it? Point a gun (assuming I would get a gun again) at something and pull the trigger, and it's the same trigger pull no matter what it's pointed at. Yet, the idea of killing Diane now seemed…difficult. “All the syndicates are after her; there's no need for me to personally take care of her.”

“You'd leave her a loose thread? This seems odd for you. You really seem to be deviating from your normal actions. I would suggest psychological counseling, but I doubt you could find a therapist who would appreciate your norm.”

“Dip, let it go. Just do what you're told, okay?”

“As you wish—Oh. I am detecting a high-level Nystrom communication.” There was brief silence. “I can decode one half of the conversation—it sounds like Morrigan—but the incoming signal has extra security on it that I can't get through.”

“Can you let me hear the half you have, then?”

“Certainly. I'll play it for you now.”

I heard Morrigan's voice. “We have a problem with Rico. He told me he does not want to be a part of this job anymore.”

There were a few seconds of silence where I assumed the response would have been.

“This isn't my fault. This is a very important, difficult job, and then you straddle me with this odd request.”

“Yes, I understand the situation. I understand—somewhat—why you want to give him this. But this isn't a time for sentimentality.”

“I'm not argu—”

“I'm just suggesting—”

“Okay. Okay. We'll get him back. I'll figure out some way to convince him. But I just have to say that—while I only know Rico a little—I think he'd rather we just shoot him in the back of the head than make him go out in a forced blaze of glory. I mean, if you want him dead, just have it done. Rico is a practical guy; he'd understand.”

“I know. Just wanted to say my piece.”

Dip then said, “That's the end of the transmission.”

I had to roll it over in my brain for a few seconds. “Just to make sure I heard that right, I'm supposed to die on this mission? They want me dead?”

“That seemed to be the implication—but we did hear only one half of the conversation. There are many classic comedy scenarios centered around the premise of people overreacting to something based on partial information. Then again, I do find it hard to imagine a second half to that conversation that would make the first half innocuous. Of course, my imagination algorithm is still in beta.”

I sat down on the bed. I guessed in a way I was just confirming a suspicion, but it hit me harder than I thought it would to hear that Nystrom was done with me. I wasn't sure who ordered it or why, but I should never have been surprised. I'd always made certain people uneasy by my mere existence, yet I'd never really thought the executives would turn on me while I was still useful. And while I had mused about the possibility of splitting from Nystrom in the past—or even taking them on—I'd never considered it seriously. My existence has only been as a hitman for Nystrom—that was my anchor in this world, what gave me focus. It was my life, and now it was over. I was truly alone.

Except for Diane. My infatuation with her seemed so silly, but perhaps in the back of my mind I'd known I would need an ally, and that's why I'd never pushed her away after she'd appeared to be of no more use. Now that irrational behavior seemed like foresight. I had her—though to help me do what, I did not know. She wanted to take on the syndicates, but that was suicide.

But it was also a clear course of action.

Morrigan would be coming for me soon, I figured, so I had no more time to worry about my plight. I stood up and left the hotel room. I had money, so I didn't have to pack anything I didn't immediately need that could be replaced. “Dip, get me in contact with Vito.” I would make one last attempt to reach out to Nystrom, but I didn't have much hope for it. Barring any progress there, my only purpose now was to get to Diane. Then maybe she'd tell me who to kill. That's all I ever needed in life.

“I will alert Vito that you want to speak to him,” Dip said, “but news has come down the wire that I think you'll want to hear.”

“About what?”

“About Melanie Fincher.”

CHAPTER 29

I watched as four body bags were wheeled out of the house—two of the bags quite small. I didn't know why I was there—maybe because I thought Diane might have been foolish enough to show up as well. I hoped she was thinking clearly, because I was having trouble with that myself. My own problems had caused so many emotions to surface. Sadness. Fear. Mainly anger. I usually did my best to not let the emotions rule me. Things had changed for me—in a big way—but that was done with, and I had a course of action. Normally I would have stuck to the plan calmly, no matter how loudly the primitive parts of my brain were screaming. Yet here I was, standing at a crime scene I had nothing to do with.

Chief Rudle spotted me and walked over. “What are you doing here?”

I barely felt like acknowledging him. I kept scanning the gathering crowd, looking for Diane in a new disguise. “I knew the victims. Diane introduced me. She and Hana were close friends.” I had found her incessant joy extremely grating, and that was over permanently now. But I wasn't happy.

“Well, from the looks of it, her friend was helping her hide out. And when Fincher had no further use for her, she killed Hana Culbertson and her entire family.”

I stared at him a moment. I wasn't an expert on reading Corridian expressions. “Really? You think the detective you knew would murder a whole family—including children—like that?”

“What's it matter to you?”

I think his expression was contemptuous. He knew who I really was. That's why despite his obvious dislike of me and Diane, he'd let us get away with so much—because Nystrom had already gotten to him. And now Nystrom had murdered this family to draw out Diane—or maybe just to hurt her—and Rudle had been told how to handle it.

It was such a mistake for me to be here. Morrigan's people assigned to track down Diane would be here and would already have seen me. I just had to hope Diane didn't take the bait and would still meet me at our scheduled time at the zoo. She wasn't like me; this sort of thing would weigh heavily on her.

I turned to leave, but Rudle said, “You need to stay here. Agent Dawson says she needs to speak to you.”

I glared at him. “I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me, I'll kill you. And don't think that being surrounded by police would stop me.” It really wouldn't—even though I was unarmed.

Rudle's eyes widened. “There's no need to be like that.”

I'd just leap at him, take his gun, and shoot him and anyone who was bothered by that. It would only take a couple seconds. But it wouldn't help me. “Pray I continue to have more important things to do than kill you.”

I quickly walked away. Just then, Dip said, “Vito is on the line.”

“What do you need?” Vito asked.

I kept up a quick pace, looking around cautiously. “I want you to get a message to Anthony Burke. Tell him I don't think current conditions will allow me to complete the second part of my job.”

“Um…Mr. Burke left instructions with me in case you called asking to contact him,” Vito said. “He wanted me to tell you that you have your job and you just need to do it, and there will be no further input from him.”

“That was directly from him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Thanks. That will be all.” And that was it. There was no one left within Nystrom on my side. They were against me, and they were probably going to win.

But I wasn't going to make it easy.

“What's the second part of the job?” Dip asked.

“The second part is always to get away alive.” At least that's what I'd been taught. “Not always the employer's concern, but always mine.”

Now my concern was to shake anyone who might be following me before my meeting time with Diane. To that end, I had a whole bunch of pointless activities planned—all in crowded areas where it would be easy to get lost. I first caught a cab and went to a crowded market square with merchandise from all over the galaxy and beyond. I spent some time looking at the offered goods (little of it interested me, as not many things there were useful for killing) while walking a haphazard path through the area. I then took the elevated walkways (enclosed, which is always disconcerting, but very popular with lots of people to get lost among) to the monument of the founding of Nar Valdum, which was some giant, obsidian jagged something or other that was a symbol of cooperation or tolerance or rainbows or some other pointless crap. Whatever it was, it was several stories tall, and people liked to gawk at it. Plus, you could go to the top of it so you could—I dunno—stare out at stuff. I went inside the monument as if to climb to the top but instead left through another exit and took a short tram to Kolian Falls, a giant waterfall on the river that runs through the city. It was something else to gawk at; there was lots of water constantly pouring off a cliff, which was supposed to make us marvel at the power of nature—even though the river could easily have been dammed until the falls merely trickled if people had so wanted it. I pushed through the crowd there to a popular walking path that skirted a well-cultivated park and took a quick turn through an area with a number of storefronts and lots of foot traffic before finally reaching the zoo.

I looked around—no familiar faces. I'd been careful to scan everyone around me during my trek through the city to see if anyone was following me. I seemed to be as free and clear as I could hope.

The zoo was in a giant, sprawling building that was supposed to have a number of completely enclosed recreated ecosystems. It was an attempt to put all the animals in as natural habitats as possible, but unless they were letting the animals hunt and kill each other, it would inevitably be a bit artificial.

I paid for a ticket and entered the zoo. There seemed to be just the one entrance and exit area, but I assumed there would be a number of emergency exits throughout the building. Diane was a cautious person—and a survivor—so I figured she knew what she was doing. Still, it was odd for me to put that sort of trust in another person. Much better than trusting Morrigan to look out for me, though.

The zoo was very large—supposedly the largest building on all of Nar Valdum. Diane had said she'd find me, so I figured I'd just casually stroll through the zoo to make it easiest for her. I looked at the map at the entrance. The zoo mainly held animals native to the home planets of humans and Corridians, with a few even more exotic creatures (Nar Valdum was terraformed and had no native species of its own). I find some of the most interesting creatures come from planets with no sentient life. In fact, even on Earth some of the more interesting animals lived long before humans were ever there. Evolution just sort of peters along after sentient creatures take over, the sentients' technology adapting much faster than nature ever could. Or that's how it seems, at least; I guess we can wait a few million years and see what the dominant species look like to be sure.

The zoo was arranged in a way I didn't find particularly logical. Earth species were next to what were considered the equivalent species from Corridia. For instance, there was a large habitat containing African elephants—Earth's largest extant land animal—that was next to the habitat of the Corridian animal called a torlip—their largest land animal, which looked like a giant, hairless warthog. For those keeping score, ours was larger.

Another popular section was the primate and calldee exhibit, which contained the animals most genetically similar to humans and Corridians. People love monkeys—they find them funny. Not me; I never cared for them. True story: I once punched a monkey.

Eventually I came to a quite crowded section. It contained creatures from neither Earth nor Corridia but instead from other planets—many of them much wilder worlds with no sentient creatures. One very humid-looking habitat had creatures that looked like flying beetles but were about the size of dogs. In another enclosure were what looked like boulders sitting in a grassy area, but one moved and opened a giant mouth full of sharp teeth. I had never seen those before, and I bet they'd be fascinating to see in action.

BOOK: Superego
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