Corazon sat down on the small bed in the corner of the cell. There was a look of deep sympathy on her face.
‘You’ve read what happened one way. And I really understand why you might be angry with the Pantheon, why you need to find reasons for Grey sending you away. But I’m sure that won’t be the only story that explains things.’
‘You’re not doing your job, Corazon. All of this is real and you can’t even see it, because you can’t imagine the Pantheon doing anything wrong.’
‘It’s a fantasy, Jack.’
‘It’s crime that needs investigation.’
‘Look, Jack, I understand how tough it was for you out there. I think even Lestak was shocked, once she had some time to think. I realise how little I know about the Soft War. I’ve started researching it. And I’m sorry that you have so little time left, that would make anyone bitter. But pretending that one of the Pantheon is out to get you – that’s just not what they do, Jack. They’re on our side, they work for us.’
‘I’ve fought their wars for them, Corazon. I know what makes them tick. They’re just like war machines. They want power and they want to hang on to it. If you get in their way, you’re fucked. And that’s it.’
‘Oh, Jack. You served the Pantheon well once – and now this.’
Jack felt exhausted. Limbs clacked at the back of his mind. Fist was beginning to stir.
‘Anyway,’ said Corazon, ‘I haven’t come here to argue about your past. Akhmatov’s not pressing charges. He knows your situation. He said he understands that it’s not easy for you.’
‘He’s not pressing charges because he’s been ordered not to. He went too far, and he’s been reined back in.’
‘Oh, for gods’ sake! For once in his life he’s showing some decency. Be thankful for that, at least.’
‘A known criminal does something completely out of character and you don’t even ask why? It’s like I said. They want Fist undamaged, so he’s had orders not to touch us.’
‘The Pantheon are watching Fist, Jack. Nobody will be able to seize him and use him.’
Jack sighed in defeat, suddenly feeling exhausted. ‘A god will,’ he said quietly.
Corazon stood up and moved towards the door. It opened at her touch. Jack expected her to just leave, but she turned back towards him.
‘I talked to Fist.’
‘When he was riding me?’
‘Yes. He can’t be an easy person to live with.’
‘He’s built to perform a specific role. That doesn’t make him very social.’
‘What’s it like – when he takes over? Where do you go?’
Jack sighed. ‘I wasn’t really there.’ He sat down on the bed, looking for words; wondering why he felt the need to answer Corazon’s question. Looking up, he saw deep concern on her face. It infuriated him. ‘But why are you worried about it? For gods’ sake look back over the evidence, you’ll see I’m right. You wanted to be a journalist once. Imagine you’ve found something that could be the biggest story of your life. Act like an investigator, not some fucking counsellor. Find out why they sent me away back then. Find out how they’re going to use Fist now.’
‘OK, Jack. I’ll take a look at the files. But remember that that means I’m helping you – and you don’t get to abuse me for that.’
The door hissed shut behind her.
Chapter 13
[So what’s next, genius detective?] asked Fist.
They were sitting on a train, rattling back to Docklands. Jack had turned down the offer of a lift in a flyer, which annoyed Fist. At first he subsided into an aggrieved silence but that soon bored him, so he started needling Jack.
[Are we going to try and track down some other shithole, and see if we can get ourselves tortured in exciting new ways? Do you want to go and stalk your dead girlfriend some more? Shall we go and wander round housing estates looking for pieces of the minds we spent years killing? Do you want to go and get shouted at by your dad for a bit? Or shall we just spend more time finding out how much everyone hates you when you’re offweave? You’ve really fucked your life up, I bet you’re actually glad I’m going to be taking over.]
[And how did you find the experience of being me, Fist? Looking forward to having a body of your own now you’ve taken it for a test drive?]
Fist didn’t answer.
[ We’re going to write a letter to Andrea,] said Jack. [She’s going to take us to Harry. He’s been investigating all this too. We need to pool resources.]
[ But Jack! You promised – after the Panther Czar, you’d let it all be.]
[ I said I would if we got the data I needed. We didn’t. And we found out that they want to use you as a weapon after I’m gone. I’m not going to let that happen.]
[ This isn’t fair! You’re going to get yourself attacked or shot or killed. And then where will I be?]
[ Wherever I am, Fist, just like always. And believe me, I wish that was different too. Now stop panicking and remember what Akhmatov said. For the moment, we’re safe.]
Jack returned to the hotel and tried to go onweave. Fist pretended there was a technical fault in the hotel weave-systems until Jack cuffed him and he opened them up.
Jack knew now that Andrea’s avatar was nothing more than a static relic, cast off by the dead past. He summoned a screen and keyboard and, as he’d done so many times in the Callisto prison’s small comms room, began to type a mail. He wasn’t sure who might be monitoring his communications, so he wrote as a lover looking back to a happier past rather than an investigator seeking to unpick it.
‘Andrea – I’ve been back to where things began. I thought that would help me get things straight, but it’s more than I can deal with alone. I need help to understand. Please.’
Jack always ended his mails to Andrea with ‘all my love’. Now, he wasn’t sure what to type. In the end, he sent the note unsigned. Then he waited. The reply came in a couple of hours. Her words hung before him, as for so long the only part of her he could see.
‘Jack. I told you I didn’t want you digging it all up again. If you just let it rest, it can’t hurt you. Back off.’
Normally she too signed off with endearments. There was nothing this time. Jack replied almost instantly.
‘I can’t step away from it now, Andrea. I need resolution. And it can’t hurt me, I know that for sure. I’ll tell you why when I see you. I’ve started looking ahead, too. I want to make sure Fist is looked after once I’m gone.’
Fist was reading over Jack’s shoulder. He snorted as Jack typed that last sentence.
[ I don’t need looking after, Jack. I just need you to walk away from all this. Like you promised.]
[ We don’t have any choice. They want to control you. They’ll come for you once you’ve taken over, be sure of it.]
[And I’ll knock ’em down like ninepins!]
[Like you put the zap on the Panther Czar?]
[ Fuck you.]
Fist was silent as Jack typed the rest of the note.
‘Please, Andrea, we’ve got to talk. All of us need to talk.’
He couldn’t mention Harry, but he knew that Andrea would understand that ‘all of us’ included him. And now Jack was at the end of the note, facing the sign off again. Writing as a lover had changed his sense of the situation. It was more than a moral or a practical problem. It was an emotional one too. Jack felt abandoned before a great darkness. He found in himself a deep need to lighten the pain by sharing it.
‘You helped me see my life clearly when I first met you in Homelands. You helped me face up to the truth on Phobos, too, when I found out how little time I had left. Please help me one last time, before the end.
With my love,
Jack’
This time, she agreed to see him.
That night she was playing a club in Prayer Heights. It was a little more upmarket than Ushi’s. Jack had to make a discreet personal payment to the door staff to get in. The audience was more engaged. There was quiet applause as Andrea came onstage, a noticeable hush as she started to sing. Her voice rang out across the room as clearly as before. She played a surprisingly conservative set, including only the cover versions that had first made her name. Jack did his best to enjoy them, but they lacked the depth and power of her later, more personal work. The audience seemed happy enough, applauding enthusiastically as each song reached its entirely predictable end.