Fifty Degrees Below (55 page)

“He didn’t find something out?”

“He didn’t say anything directly, but I think he did, yes. I don’t know. If he found out about me taking the election program . . .” She shuddered, thinking about it. Then: “It might explain some things. I mean he chipped me again, since I last saw you. New kinds that he thought I didn’t know about. They hop on you. When I found them I left them in until today, but I took them out, and then I used his code to get what I could about this superblack onto disk. I don’t know how much it’ll tell anyone. Then I left.”

“Are you sure you found all the chips?”

“Yes. The bastard. He is so . . . He spies and spies and spies.”

“So, I mean, can you be sure you found everything he’s doing?”

“Yes, I ran all the diagnostics, and I saw what he had on me. Now I’m out of there. He’ll never see me again.”

The bitter twist to her mouth was one Frank had not seen before, but it was familiar in his own muscles from certain moments of his own breakup with Marta. The wars of the heart, so bitter and pointless.

“Where will you go?” he said.

“I have a Plan B. I’ve got an ID all set up, a place, even a job. It’s not too far away, but far enough I won’t run into him.”

“I’ll be able to see you?”

“Of course. Once I get settled. That’s why I set it up this way. If I were on my own I’d go, oh I don’t know. Tibet or something. The other end of the Earth.”

Frank shook his head. “I want you closer than that.”

“I know.”

They hugged harder. In the darkness of the park it was almost quiet: the sound of the creek, the hum of the city. Two against the world. Frank felt her body, her heat, the pulse in her neck. The scent of her hair filled him. Don’t disappear, he thought. Stay where I can find you. Stay where I can be with you.

Frank felt her shudder. It was cold again, not as cold as in the depths of last winter, but well below freezing. The creek rang with the tinkling bell-like sound it took on when all its eddies were frozen over. Caroline’s body was quivering under his hands, shivering with cold, or tension, or both. He held her, tried to calm her with his hands. But he too was shivering.

Downstream on the path he saw a brief movement. Black into black. Involuntarily he pulled her to him and around to the other side of the oak next to them.

“What?”

“Look,” he said very quietly, “are you sure you aren’t still chipped somehow?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“Because I think there’s someone watching us.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t try to look. Here, I’ve got the scanner you gave me.” He thought it over, images of one scenario then another. “Would he have other people helping him?”

“Not for this,” she said. “I don’t think so anyway. Not unless he figured out that I copied the vote program.”

“Shit. Let’s check you right here, okay?”

“Sure.”

He pulled the wand from his pocket, so much like an airport security device. Bar codes in the body. He ran it over her. When he had it against the top of her back it beeped.

“Shit,”
she said under her breath. She whipped off her jacket, laid it on the ground, ran the wand over it. It beeped again. “God
damn
it.”

“At least it isn’t in your skin.”

“Yeah well.”

“You checked before you left your place?”

“Yes I did, and there wasn’t anything. I wonder if there’s something about me leaving the house. A tick, they call these. Set to jump when motion sensors go off. Something stuck to the doorframe or someplace. God
damn
him.”

Frank was trying to see over her shoulder, down the path where he had seen movement. Nothing. Feeling grim, he pulled out his FOG phone and called up Zeno’s.

It rang twice. “How does this thing work? Hey, Joe’s Bar and Grill! Who the fuck are you?”

“Zeno it’s Frank.”

“Who?”

“
Frank.
Professor Nosebleed.”

“Oh hey, Nosey! What’s happening man? Did you spot the jaguar?”

It sounded like he’d downed a couple of beers. “Worse than that,” Frank said, thinking hard. “Look Zeno, I’ve got a problem and I’m wondering if you could give me a hand.”

“What you got in mind?”

“The thing is, it might be kind of dangerous. I don’t want to get you into it without telling you that.”

“What kind of danger?”

“I’ve got a jacket here that people are using to tail me with. People I really need to get away from. What I want to do is have them follow the jacket away from me, while I clear out of here.”

“Where are ya?”

“I’m in the park. Are you at your usual spot?”

“Where else.”

“What I was hoping is that I could run by you guys, like I’m playing frisbee golf, and hand off the jacket to you and keep on running. Then if one of you would hustle the jacket out to Connecticut, and leave it in the laundromat next to Delhi Dhaba, I could turn the tables on these people, pick them up when they follow the jacket, and then tail them back to where they came from.”

“Shit, Noseman, it sounds like you must be some kind of a spook after all! So you been out here hiding among us, is that it?”

“Sort of, sure.”

“Harrrrrr. I knew it musta been something.”

“So are you up for it? While you’ve got the jacket you’ll have to move fast, but I don’t think they’ll do anything to you, especially out on Connecticut. It’s more a surveillance kind of thing.”

“Ah fuck that.” Zeno brayed his harsh bray. “It won’t be no worse than the cops. Parole officers stick that shit right into your
skin.
”

“Yeah that’s right. Okay, well thanks then. We’ll come through in about ten minutes.”

“We? Who’s this
we
?”

“Another spook. You know how it is.”

“A lady spook? You got a lady in distress there maybe?”

Sometimes it was alarming how quick Zeno guessed things. “Are the rest of the bros there with you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Maybe they can add to the confusion. When we pass through and hand off the jacket, have them—”

“We’ll beat the shit out of them!”

“No no no.” Frank felt a chill. “They could be armed. You don’t want to fuck with that. Maybe just go off in two or three groups. Give you some cover, create some confusion.”

“Yeah sure. We’ll deal with it.”

“Okay, thanks. See you soon. We’ll come in from the creek side and just pass right on through.”

Frank pushed the
end
button. He looked at the chip wand. “Could this wand be chipped itself?”

“I don’t know. I guess so.”

“We’ll leave it here. You said in the elevator you were training for a triathlon, right?”

“Yes?”

“Is your husband a runner?”

“What? No.”

“Okay.” He took her by the arm and led her off the path, up into the trees. “Let’s run. We’ll go past my park friends and give them your jacket, then take off on the ridge trail north. He won’t be able to keep up with us, and after a while he won’t know where you are.”

“Okay.”

Off they ran, Caroline fast on Frank’s heels. He ran up Ross to site 22, then turned up the trail that ran to the Nature Center, hurrying the pace so that they would gain some time. Behind him he heard the faint crackle of the pursuit.

They crossed the frisbee golf course, and then Frank really pushed it. At a certain point her husband wouldn’t be able to keep up. Once you were winded the will counted for nothing, you had to slow down. As animals he and Caroline were stronger, and out here they were animals. Down the narrow fairway of hole five, leading her between the trees to the left so they wouldn’t be seen. Running almost as hard as he could in the dark, Caroline right behind.

Then he was in site 21 and the bros were all standing around, wide-eyed and agog at the sight of them. Even in the midst of his adrenaline rush Frank saw that he would never hear the end of this.

He gestured to Caroline, helped her out of her jacket.

“Hi guys.” He met Zeno’s eye. Now more than ever Zeno looked impressive, like Lee Marvin in his moment of truth.

“Thanks,” Frank said, tossing the jacket at him in their usual aggro style.

“Where do you want me to go again?”

“Delhi Dhaba. Drop the jacket in the laundromat next door and get the fuck out of there.”

“Sure thing.”

“The rest of you wait a second and then wander off. Stick together though.”

“Yeah man.”

“We’ll beat the fuck out of him.”

“Just keep moving. Thanks boys.”

And with that Frank took Caroline by the hand and they were off again into the dark.

Running down the hole seven fairway he pulled off his down jacket, then passed it back to her. “Here, put this on.”

“No I’m okay.”

“No you’re not, you were shivering already.”

“What about you?”

“We run the course out here in T-shirts all the time. I’m used to it. Besides you’ve got to keep on going after this, right? Whereas I can go home.”

“Are you sure this isn’t chipped too?”

“Yes. I’ve owned it for twenty years, and no one else has been anywhere near it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She pulled it on as they jogged, and then they started running at full speed again.

“You okay?” Frank said over his shoulder.

“Yeah fine. You?”

“I’m good,” Frank said. And he was; his spirits were rising as he got on the ridge path and led her north on it. Frozen mud underfoot, frigid air rushing past him; there was no way anyone without chips to aid them could track them for long when they were moving like this.

He passed hole eight and turned up cross trail 7, and soon they were out onto Brandywine, and rising to Connecticut.

Just short of the avenue, where there was still some darkness to huddle in, he stopped her, held her. As they hugged he felt for the Acheulian hand axe, there in his jacket pocket against her side.

“What is that?” she asked.

“My lucky charm.”

“Pretty heavy for a lucky charm.”

“Yeah, it’s a rock. I like rocks.”

They stood there, arms around each other, poorly lit by a distant streetlight. Her face twisted with distress; why couldn’t it be simple? her look seemed to say. Why couldn’t they just be here?

But it wasn’t simple.

“The Van Ness Metro is just down there,” Frank said, pointing south on Connecticut.

“Thanks.”

“And where will you go?”

“I’ve got a place set up.” Then: “Listen, I heard what you said to those guys, but don’t you stick around and mess with him,” she said, waving to the east. “He’s dangerous. He really is. And we don’t want him to know you had anything to do with this.”

“I know,” Frank said. They hugged again. Briefly they kissed. He liked the feel of her in his jacket.

“Here,” she said, “you should take your jacket back. I’m going to get in the Metro, and then I’ll be into my little underground railroad setup, and I won’t need it. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He took the jacket from her, put it on, put the hand axe back in its pocket. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll contact you as soon as I can,” she said. “We’ll set up a system.”

“But—”

“I’ll let you know! Just let me go—I have to go!”

“Okay!” Frank said, frustrated.

Then she was off. Watching her turn the corner and disappear he felt a sudden stab of fear. God
damn
this guy, he thought.

He walked north to Delhi Dhaba and passed it, glanced into the laundromat next door. It was almost empty, only a couple of young women folding clothes together at the tables, no doubt UDC undergrads. Caroline’s black ski jacket was already there, hanging from the open door of a dryer. No sight of Zeno or any of the rest of the bros. Frank walked down to the corner and stood at the bus stop, then sat on the bench in its little shelter, consciously working to slow his breathing and pulse.

Ten minutes passed. Then three men in black leather jackets approached the laundromat, hands in their pockets. One, a tall, heavyset blond man, appeared to be checking a very heavy watch. He looked at the other men, gestured inside the laundromat. One turned and settled at the door, looking up and down Connecticut. The others went in. Frank sat there looking across the street away from them. The man guarding the door registered him along with the three others waiting at the bus stop, then he turned his attention to the various people walking up and down the sidewalks.

The two men reappeared in the doorway, the blond man holding Caroline’s jacket. That was him, then. Frank’s teeth clenched. The three men conferred. They all surveyed the street, and the blond man appeared to check his watch again. He looked up, toward Frank; said something to the others. They began to walk down the sidewalk toward him.

Shocked at this turn of events, Frank got up and hustled around the corner of Davenport. As soon as the buildings at the corner blocked their view of him he bolted, running hard east toward the park. Looking back once, he saw that they were there on Davenport, also running; chasing him down. The blond man ran with his right hand in his jacket pocket.

Frank turned on Linnaean, running harder. East again on Brandywine, a real burst of speed, unsustainable, but he wanted to get into the trees again as soon as he could. As he pounded along, gasping, he thought about the man spotting him by way of his wrist device, and decided that his down jacket must be compromised now too. Caroline had worn it, she had been chipped with a tick, these ticks were probably not used alone but in little swarms; she could have had some in her hair, who knew, but if one or more had fallen or migrated from say her hair onto his jacket, he would be chipped himself. That had to be it.

Or maybe he had just been chipped all along.

He flew down the slope to site 21, found it empty, the neglected fire still flickering. Off with his jacket, off with his shirt. The frigid air hit him and he growled. He took the hand axe out of the jacket and put it into his pants pocket.

He ran up into the mass of trees west of the site, stopped and rubbed his hands over his neck, gently and then roughly; felt nothing. He ran his hands through his hair again, leaning forward and down, pulling at his locks and shaking his head like a wet dog. Tearing at his scalp. Best he could do. Now he had to move again, just in case; he circled around the site and ducked behind one of the big flood windrows, crouched and got a view of the picnic table, between two branches.