Division Zero: Lex De Mortuis (42 page)

“I remember seeing something about that on the Newsnet, that older reporter they just got rid of was talking about some industrial accident,” said Kirsten, frowning. “Damn, I can’t remember her name.”

“Funny, isn’t it? She used to be everywhere. Couldn’t walk through the city without seeing her face plastered on a dozen different screens any way you looked; now you can’t remember what her name was.” Dorian pondered. “I guess it is possible to be
too
famous. Donna something, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, the corp almost went down in flames. Billions in fines.” N0ra seemed caught somewhere between furious or crying. “I found out he did it for a hundred grand. All those people, just for money… I sent everything I found to Lyris. They own Antheus.”

Kirsten froze.
Well now I know why Lyris sent Seneschal to have a chat with Vikram.

Dorian set off to wandering the room. “If Vikram finds out, he’s going to come after her.”

“He’s only been dead a few months; I’ll have time to confront him before he’s strong enough to harm her.”

“Harm who? Me?” N0ra sat up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing to get alarmed about just yet, maybe in ten or twenty years, if I don’t find him, it could get annoying. But, if anything strange happens around you, Nora with a zero, call me.”

Kirsten reached for her NetMini, hesitated, and then offered the official department-issued PID.
Not giving a hacker my personal.

“Weird? Like on the net?”

“No, weird like something you can’t explain. Haunting, ghosts… that sort of thing.”

Dorian, halfway across the room, forced himself into the world for a moment. N0ra fell out of her chair.

Kirsten extended a hand to help her up. “You’re trembling. What happened?”

“I just saw a man.” She pointed. “He… had the same uniform as you.”

“That’s my partner.” Kirsten tried to soothe her. “He was just trying to show you what I mean. Don’t be afraid of him, he’s harmless. Do you have any idea where Vikram hung out?”

N0ra shook her head. “Sorry, he never stuck around long after a job. Everyone thought he was a bit of a snob. I mean he was a decent jockey and he walked the walk, but he didn’t live the life, ya know? They said he had a
real
job somewhere and only ran nabs for the jollies.”

Straightening her stance, Kirsten stared through multiple layers of hanging faraday plastic at the exit. “I’m starting to wonder how much I
don’t
know about Vikram.”

etallic starbursts floated in a sea of dark grey gloss. The scent of various foods swirled around amid the din of a few hundred people going about their day as others had lunch. As soon as the fragrance of grilled vat-grown chicken hit her nose, she lost her appetite. Kirsten wanted to sleep, but at the same time was afraid of what would wait for her on the other side.

“Something’s wrong.” Dorian’s voice pierced the swirling miasma of fatigue, fear, and nausea.

She lifted her head from her folded arms. The shimmering pattern on the table flashed bright silver in the light of the food court. Chicken, garlic, and parmesan wafted over her and she fanned it away from her face.

“You should eat something, you did skip breakfast.”

Her transparent plastic fork plunged through a strip of genetically perfect chicken and several layers of lettuce. Kirsten held it up, moving the utensil in a slow spin as she appraised its contents. She risked it, and the nausea changed into hunger.

“Didn’t sleep well, and running around all morning with nothing to show for it isn’t helping.”

Dorian let her take a few bites, her interest in the salad increasing with each one. With half the meal gone, she took a break to poke at the table console and order an iced coffee, hydroponic―thirty-eight credits.
Screw Kinkaid and his fleas.

“Please don’t tell me your mother came back?” Concern wafted from him.

“No.” She slid forward over the table, cradling her head in both hands, elbow pushing the plate aside. “Something new: Shani killing me, me killing Shani. It happened a dozen times and I kept waking up each time. It’s like my brain is trying to sort out which one sucks the most.”

“Is that why you wore an Evan backpack when you dropped him off this morning?”

Kirsten sat up, letting her arms fall into her lap. “I’m so worried something will go wrong, or something will happen to him. Maybe I should leave him at the dorm so they can’t get to him.”

“They who?”

“I dunno wha”―her NetMini started beeping; she fumbled it to her ear―“Wren. Hello?”

The holographic bust of Konstantin Dobrynin appeared. Emerald-hued suit with a bright green ascot this time, he exaggerated a bow of greeting such that the video call rendered it enough to notice.

“Good afternoon, Agent Wren. I hope the day finds you well. That dark highlight truly brings out the sapphire in your eyes. A siren should be so beautiful.”

“He’s trying too hard,” grumbled Dorian.

Her gaze hardened for just an instant before she looked back at Konstantin’s floating bust. “I appreciate the compliment, but, it’s not makeup. I’ve had a bad morning.”

Konstantin’s lips pursed into an expression of sympathy. “Perhaps I can brighten it for you this evening? Would you care to join me for dinner at the Toko Lounge? Charming little place I just became aware of.”

“Charming little place.” Dorian rolled his eyes. “It’s only about three thousand credits a person to eat there.”

She peered through Konstantin at Dorian, registering what he said. “I… I’m flattered, Konstantin, really. That place is so expensive, I would feel guilty.”

“Think nothing of it.” His hand appeared in front of him, waving to the side out of the range of the image pickup. “I have some more information for you about the inscription you found.”

“The silver circle?”

Konstantin nodded.

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Kirsten bit her lip, head moving up and down as if in slow motion. “Okay.” When the call ended, she scrunched her nose at the way Dorian looked at her. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

“Feeling protective is a better way to put it. Men like him are not used to being denied what they want. To him you’re just a conquest.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Besides, he might have some useful information. I bet he’s one of less than a dozen men in this entire city I could talk to about ghosts and abyssals and not send him screaming for the door.”

Dorian laughed. “You might want to tell him you’re psionic
before
you sit down at Toko. It would be an expensive tab to get stuck holding.”

She glared. “He already knows.”

The wind seemed to find every little spot the emerald-colored gown left accessible to air. Shivering, she tugged at the too-short right side. Not wanting a repeat of the last time she wore this, she had ordered a more conservative pair of shoes, heel wise, which were much easier to walk in. Of course, the thin black cording holding her toes to the sole did nothing at all to stop cold air. Her mind got distracted from the regret of not adding green polish to her toenails as a gust slipped under the small white jacket across the bare skin of her back.

Why couldn’t he have invited me to the steakhouse or something? I feel like a damned half-naked peacock.

“Kirsten…”

She faced toward the voice as her father came through the wall of the apartment building. A few seconds of concentration aligned her body with the astral realm, and she hugged him. Alas, he was neither cold nor warm, and did little to help her against the breeze.

“Dad.” Her arms squeezed tighter. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You look amazing, honey.” His hand on her back went up and down. “Oh, my. You don’t have a bra on, do you? Go back inside this instant and―”

“Dad. I’m not a kid anymore and this dress is backless. It will look ridiculous.”

“If you bend forward too far you’ll pop out. Do you at least have―”

“Dad!” she screamed, blushing.

“―your weapon?”

Her forehead thudded into his shoulder. She found it curious that ghosts shake when laughing, as if they still breathed.

“Of course.” Kirsten waved her silver handbag at him. “Umm, Dad, you haven’t seen Vikram anywhere around here have you?”

“No, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. You will eventually be happy and find someone to love.”

That’s why he’s lingering. Doesn’t want to leave me unprotected.
A single tear squeezed out from between the collision of guilt and gratitude, appearing at the corner of her right eye.

“I have a bad feeling about this Russian playboy.”

“You and Dorian both. What’s wrong with you two? Someone finally doesn’t run screaming for the hills when they learn I’m psionic, and suddenly he’s dangerous?”

“It’s not that, I just have a bad feeling is all.”

“What, like he’s going to sell me overseas as a concubine or something? Slip me some chem in my drink and I’ll wake up on a yacht off the coast of Russia?”

“No, not that kind of bad feeling.” He stopped mid train of thought and blinked. “Does that really happen?”

Kirsten shrugged. “I dunno. It depends on who you talk to. Urban legend and all, I’m not in the department that investigates those kinds of cases. Besides, if I ever got kidnapped I’d just go astral and come back here and tell someone who could see me exactly where to send help.”

“If you could find someone capable of seeing you,” he grumbled, staring at a black limousine settling in for a landing a block away. “Something just doesn’t feel right about him. Too much money, too good looking, too interested in a cute, girl-next-door blonde who happens to be a cop and psionic on top if it all.”

She got quiet, measuring him with an even glance. “I’m not sure if you just insulted me or not.”

He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “Hon, you’re very pretty, but guys like him go for a different kind of pretty.” Her father grimaced. “Bigger umm.” He held his hands over his chest as if holding something large and bulbous. “Lots of cosmetic work.”

“You’re making generalizations; not all rich men favor airheads with built-in floatation devices.” She looked down at herself, cheeks reddening. “They’re not
that
small. They’re
athletic.
”
I can’t believe I’m talking about my bust size with my dad.