The Arx (27 page)

Several doors dotted the alley. He staggered down it frantically trying them as he went. He found one open and stumbled inside.

To his shock, he was in an upscale office building: clean, bright, modern. His feet and pants up to his knees were covered with filth and mud, as was his jacket from crawling up the bank. He was leaving foul-smelling footprints wherever he stepped. He spotted a restroom sign and rushed inside.

He stuffed his jacket and socks in the garbage, and rinsed and dried the soles of his shoes. He took off his pants, washed the bottoms in the sink, wrung them out and held them with shaking hands under the blow dryer. They didn’t have to be dry as long as they didn’t leave a trail of drips that could be followed.

The restroom door opened and Frank jumped back, expecting one of his black-suited pursuers. He relaxed when a middle-aged man in a suit and tie stepped in. The man, seeing Frank standing in his underwear, stared at him wide-eyed.

“Spilled something on them,” Frank said, laughing. The man bought his excuse, laughed with him, and headed for a stall.

Frank got dressed and opened the restroom door a crack. The hallway was clear. With a huge lump in his throat he stepped out and crept down the hall, expecting at any second to come face-to-face with the Arx.

There was a landmark he’d noticed earlier that might save his life. He checked the lobby, rushed in, confirmed what he’d seen – a bus stop, right in front of the main doors. He moved close enough to see down the street, praying that a bus was coming. There was one a block away, but he couldn’t be sure if it would stop.

He stood shaking, forcing a smile at the people entering and leaving the building, scanning for the black-clad figure that would spell his doom.

The bus arrived and stopped in front of the doors. Frank’s plan was to wait until the two people at the stop had boarded, but not so long that the bus would leave. The two, a man and a woman, climbed on and paid.

Frank rushed out to jump on at the last minute. Just as he reached the door a woman carrying a load of packages squeezed in front of him.

“How much?” she asked the driver.

“Two seventy-five.”

“Oh…” she said. “I’m not sure if I have the correct change.”

She fiddled with her purse, trying to find her change with one hand on her packages.

Frank glanced frantically up the street. The Arx driver was rushing in and out of doorways searching, but hadn’t yet spotted him. Frank ducked low behind the woman, who eyed him suspiciously.

She finally found the change and began to climb on board, juggling her packages. Frank checked down the street. The driver had emerged from a doorway and was headed towards him. He was in the open now. All the driver would have to do was look in his direction.

Finally, the woman moved down the aisle and the way was clear. Frank flew up the steps and crouched as he paid. The bus was crowded; he wedged himself between two tall men and hunched down. As the bus pulled away he saw the two Arx pursuers meet up with the driver and they continued down the street. He was safe – for now.

By an infinitely circuitous route that would have made Lawrence Retigo proud, Frank made his way back to the scummiest part of the Downtown Eastside. He booked a room in yet another decrepit hotel under an assumed name. He washed all of his clothes in the sink using the complementary hotel shampoo, then flopped down on the lumpy bed. He had to think.

A few hours later Frank’s hands were still shaking as he hunkered down in the rear seat of a city bus headed for Mountain View Hospital. He’d bought a cheap replacement jacket and some socks from a thrift shop near his hotel. He didn’t dare go home for clothes or his car. The irony struck him that even though the police believed him guilty of murdering a fellow officer, that wasn’t his biggest problem.

As he guessed Lawrence Retigo must have done before him, he scanned the street for any sign that he was being followed. A car staying with them for too long or unexpectedly changing lanes, a glance from a driver beside them – each jacked up his pulse rate. His stomach churned and his palms were slippery with sweat. He understood what the hapless reporter must have gone through: the endless waiting, the crippling terror.

But he had to talk to Ricky again. The quadriplegic was his only link to the Arx. Beyond that, Frank had a gut feeling that the Arx posed a danger to society at large; he had to find out more of what Ricky knew.

Since his previous visit had gone without a hitch, the staff showed no resistance when he asked again if he could take Ricky outside. Again they headed to the gazebo and hid behind the rosebush. Ricky gulped and fought for breath as he tried to force enough air out of his lungs to produce an audible sound.

“You okay?” Frank asked. “Are you comfortable?”

Ricky nodded faintly.

“Tell me about the Arx,” Frank said.

“N…Never met anyone but Mother,” Ricky said. “Know only w…what she told me. Arx – new and b…better version of h…humanity. Will r…replace humans on earth.”

Frank was stunned, but he pushed on. “There’s some connection with Kaffir Pharma and Olmerol.”

“D…Deformities – not like other deformities. B…Beneficial. H…High intelligence, especially m…mathematics and science. Eidetic m…memories.”

“But a deformity like that must be pretty obvious. How come nobody’s caught on?”

“Only affects b…brain – personality. Not v…visible to outside. Arx – m…mature earlier. Learn to behave l…like Monkeys.”

“Monkeys?”

“What they c…call you, non-Arx. An a…annoyance to be r…removed whenever p…possible.”

“I read a description of a fight between two Arx men,” Frank said. “One of them killed the other like it was nothing.”

“Arx are p…psychopaths. N…No empathy for others. W…What you call conscience, A…Arx call ‘the weakness’. W…Weakness almost non-existent in Arx m…males. R…Rare in females. Arx with weakness are k…killed. Arx care about p…power, and c…continuation of species.”

“The ones I heard about lived in a mansion in Point Grey. A few of the women had their own apartments.”

“L…Live together. L…Large houses c…called Strongholds. Some work. O…Others rear children. Outsiders r…rarely allowed in. F…Females who i…interact with Monkey world l…live outside for c…cover. One male c…commands, with a f…few others. U…Ultimate authority is the M…Matriarch.”

“Matriarch?” Frank said. A queasy sensation that had begun in his stomach moved into his throat.

“F…First of our kind. F…Founded first Stronghold. Arx t…track drug distribution, medical r…records. D…Deformed babies taken – assigned to a S…Stronghold. Monkeys d…don’t know to test, don’t f…find effects.”

“I wish you’d quit calling us that,” Frank said. “So they kidnap the kids before anybody can work out that they have a deformity. Can’t the Arx have their own kids?”

“Arx interbreeding p…produces Monkey children. Devastating m…mutations when Arx women t…take Olmerol.”

“How do you fit in?”

“Mother said I was p…product of experiment – for Arx to p…procreate without Monkeys. M…Mother chosen to test new version.

“Results – as y…you see.” With effort, Ricky motioned his head down at his broken, misshapen body. “Ten born. Three s…survived. All s…severely deformed. Mothers ordered to t…terminate. Others c…complied. Mother had the w…weakness. They d…didn’t know. Showed c…compassion for me. Told them she t…terminated. Kept me hidden for years.”

“Lived in c…closet. N…Never went outside Mother’s room. Taught me, l…looked after me. My c…condition worsened. She w…worried they’d find me. P…Put me here. Arx not a…aware of my existence – until now.”

Ricky took a deep breath. Speaking was obviously tiring for him.

Frank waited a few seconds before continuing. “So they’re trying to come up with a version of the drug that works on – ‘Arx’?” he finally said.

“T…They were.”

“What do you mean, ‘were’? They stopped?”

“May no longer be n…necessary. W…Were working to i…introduce Olmerol into f…fertilized Monkey egg. T…Then implant into A…Arx women.”

Goosebumps rose on Frank’s skin.

“They can do that?”

“N…Not when I left, b…but maybe now.”

Ricky bowed his head, beginning to tire.

“What happened to your mother?”

“Never s…saw her again. A…Assume she died.”

“So are you like the others?”

“Mother said I was i…intelligent as others, but I have the w…weakness.”

Ricky stopped and took what for him were several deep breaths.

“You okay?” Frank asked.

After a few seconds Ricky nodded.

“You said your mother snuck you out of the Stronghold. That must have been tough with somebody in your condition.”

“T…Tunnel. C…Connects Stronghold to outside. Arx f…fear detection by Monkey world. R…Rarely used. Not guarded. Mother c…carried me to waiting car.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “Who drove the car?”

“N…Never saw f…face.”

“Do you know where the place is where you grew up?”

“Never w…went outside. C…Called Genesis. Original, f…founded by Matriarch, where she lived.”

Ricky talked for another twenty minutes in his halting, breathless voice. What Frank learned made his hair stand on end. Ricky began to tire and stopped speaking. He seemed almost in a hypnotic state. Frank waited a few minutes to allow the quadriplegic to get his breath.

“When we talked before,” Frank finally said, “you said my death was assured…”

“One c…chance for you,” Ricky said. “E…Expose them. Once s…secret is out, no longer any r…reason to kill you. Not like h…humanity. No pity, no compassion. Kill without s…slightest care – but only for a r…reason. No hate, no revenge.

“If you carry s…secret, death is g…guaranteed. Once e…exposed, k…killing you no longer s…serve a purpose. Not evil, not good – c…concepts alien to them. Do not take life for p…pleasure, do not spare life out of c…compassion. S…Simply do what's n…necessary.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t these your people?”

“H…Have developed a certain a…affection for humanity. Completely u…unaware of the danger.”

“You understand that if their secret is revealed it will mean the end of the Arx.”

“You b…believe that?”

“Well, yeah – don’t you?”

Ricky said nothing. Frank felt a lump in his throat.

“Well, if I have any say in it you’re not going anywhere – at least not for a while.”

“T…Tired,” Ricky whispered.

Frank sat on a bench opposite Ricky's wheelchair with a clear view of the pathway. “Just a few more minutes,” he said. “You said a man came to visit you. Do you remember what he looked like? Do you think you’d recognize his picture?”

“Yes,” Ricky said.

Frank brought out the photocopied article with Richard Carson’s picture. He unfolded it and held it in front of Ricky. Ricky squinted and stared at the picture.

“That’s h…him,” he said.

“You sound pretty certain.”

“Like others… r…remember everything.”

Frank pulled back and stared at him. “Everything?”

Ricky nodded.

“Wow. So what else can you remember about this guy? Anything that would help me find him?”

“Brown suit, w…white dress shirt, no tie. G…Glasses. 1.7 meters t…tall, 90 k…kilos, Endomorphic b…body type, approximately 28% body fat.”

“Approximately?”

“Liked to e…eat fried food… hamburgers.”

“Come on,” Frank said. “How could you possibly know that?”

“S…Smell.”

“Jesus Christ. Was he carrying anything?”

Ricky shook his head.

“Is there anything else that might help me identify this guy?”

“Paper,” Ricky said, almost in a whisper. He stopped and his head dipped, like he’d fallen asleep.

“Ricky?” Frank put his hand on the quadriplegic’s shoulder.

“Tired,” Ricky said.

“We’re almost done. Just tell me – what paper?”

“S…Shirt pocket.” Ricky closed his eyes. “Words in r…red letters.”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “You can read what it said?”

“U…Upside down,” Ricky said, his eyes still closed. “Paper u…upside down. Says: “‘See R…Reverse Side of T…Ticket’.”

“So it’s some kind of ticket. Can you read anything else?”

“N…Numbers, vertical l…lines, ‘L…Lane 13’.”

“Lane 13?” Frank said. “What the hell? Anything else?”

“‘Change Due – $2.57’. ‘U…Undersized Vehicle’.”

Frank stared at the floor. “The ferry!” he said, looking up. “It’s a ferry ticket stub. Read down. Somewhere on it should say which terminals.”

“‘Auth Only’, Ricky said, a wheeze entering his voice. “Rest c…covered up by pocket.”

“Shit,” Frank said to himself. “What was that about vertical lines?”

“P…Pattern, narrow and w…wide.”

Frank thought for a second. “A UPC code,” he said. “The numbers – can you read them?”