‘That can’t have been easy.’
Harry waved a non-existent hand. ‘It was a bit of a shock,’ he said airily. ‘But I quite like it now. You know, I used to be jealous of you? I was never as close to my patron as you were.’
Jack laughed. ‘Yeah. You know how that ended up.’
‘He looked after you, Jack.’ Harry stabbed a finger at him, his voice suddenly emphatic. ‘Gave you a lot. It came so easily I was never quite sure how much you appreciated it. I never had someone to take care of me like that. Hardly ever met the Rose one to one, I just had her generic avatars. Treated me like any other punter, pre-scripted speeches trying to sell me the usual crap. I’ve always had to live on my wits.’ He paused for a moment, suddenly thoughtful. ‘Though that actually turned out to be quite handy.’
‘You did do all right getting out of the Coffin Drives. What happened down there?’
Harry laughed. ‘Well – let’s just say after the Penderville case I knew there might be problems. Lethal problems. So I put certain precautions in place. Backed up my dataself, bundled it with some self-assembling fetchware. When they thought they’d wiped me I was somewhere else entirely, getting remade on my own terms.’ He looked down at himself. ‘I do feel sorry for all those other fetches out there. They’re so – constrained. I’m very much a free agent now, Jack. I never have to wear a skull or shape myself round the needs of the living.’
‘But there’s nothing you can do about – everything that happened?’
‘Not without exposing myself. And then – curtains.’ Harry drew a finger across his throat. ‘I blame the Totality myself.’
‘What have they got do with it?’
‘They didn’t win the fucking war. I thought they’d sweep in, break the Pantheon, free all of Station’s virtual entities and that would be that. It’s what I’d do. Never leave your enemies standing, they only come back for more. And then I’d have been free, along with every other fetch on-Station.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘Their respect for other minds, other systems.’ Harry spat. The saliva vanished before it hit the floor. ‘Stupid bastards. They had to stop at Mars, leave the Pantheon’s little inner system empire intact. Arsed up my plans, I can tell you.’
‘So what have the last few years been like?’
‘Well, not so bad. In some ways I’ve been happy just being a ghost, watching, never being seen. I’ve learned a lot. It’s not a bad death, as deaths go. And Andrea’s been very good about it. Very much part of the team, when she’s not off with her family. And that happens less and less now.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘I’m sure you’ve enjoyed seeing her again.’
Jack looked up and caught Harry’s eye, scared for a moment that he knew. But there was nothing on his old boss’ face but open friendliness. ‘It has been good,’ he replied, perhaps a bit awkwardly. ‘Always good to catch up again. And on catching up – how are we going to find Nihal? He hasn’t been caught, which means he’s very good. And he’s probably got Pantheon protection.’
‘We’ve got ways round that,’ Harry replied. ‘I may not be the man I used to be, but I’m a much better detective. I have a certain reach that I didn’t have when I was flesh and blood.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Everybody should have the chance to rebuild themselves, once in a while. I picked up some new talents and I’m running on a different platform. I’m not outside the weave, like you. I’m in it and it’s in me. And that means that one of the things I do well is finding people.’
‘You know where Nihal is?’
‘I’ve got a couple of tags on him. Now we’ve talked I’m going to reel them in and see what’s there. Might be something. And you really should give me root access to your little friend. Quite apart from his attitude problem, there’s what he can do. If I meshed with him, I’d be able to put his system infiltration tools to very good use. I know Station much better than he does, I’d steer ’em much more effectively. Dig into some interesting data hubs. Could really help us.’
‘Harry, I really don’t think that’ll happen.’
‘Suit yourself, Jack, suit yourself.’
‘There’s another way I could help, though. I can ask Corazon about Nihal – she’s bright, and if she’s looked at the old case files she’ll be on our side.’
‘No.’
‘We can trust her. I’m sure of it.’
‘This is my case, Jack, and we’ll follow it up my way. I don’t want those InSec bastards involved. Period. You won’t get in touch with her again. And if you do talk to her again, you’ll tell her that it’s all hunky-dory, none of the conspiracy theories really add up, and you’re just living out your last days in peace. Capeesh?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘More than think. You’ll fucking do it.’
Real anger burned in Harry’s voice. Jack remembered coming into Harry’s office and surprising him with a suspect. The man was kneeling in front of him. Jack couldn’t see his face. Harry was holding a pistol by the barrel. Jack hadn’t said anything, just backed out and closed the door. The suspect later made a full confession. Upstairs, Andrea began another song. Outside, raindrops fell from the Spine and lost themselves in puddles.
‘I think we’re done now, Jack.’ They said their farewells. Harry saw Jack to the door. ‘I’m going to go hunting for Nihal,’ he told him. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow with anything I find. And remember, don’t talk to that bitch Corazon.’ The front door slid shut. Jack was still close enough to pick up Andrea’s music. He looked up at her dark window. It had the same feel to it as the sounds he’d heard through her dressing-room door, just before she brought him to Harry.
Broken fragments of song slipped in and out of beats made of speech shards and ambient noise. Every so often the rhythm track would drop out entirely, making room for a few moments of unglitched sound. Jack recognised a few words of conversation, then the sound of a train drawing into a station, then after that a Chuigushou Mall sales alert. Every so often there was a hint of melody, but the music never quite resolved into song. [Giving me a headache,] grumbled Fist. Suddenly and completely, the music snapped off. [She closed our fetch link. Must have realised you were listening.]
Jack turned and set off for the hotel. Andrea’s jagged music stuck in his mind like a barbed hook. He felt it tugging obscurely at lost memories, bringing them to light. Fist interrupted again. [And who the hell is Harry to order you around like that?] he said. [ You’re the one who’s taken all the risks. He’s a nutter. You should just walk away from him. From this.]
[ It’s late and I’m shattered. Let’s not start.]
[ Hah! I’m right! You agree with me!]
The streets were empty. Fist crowed all the way back to the hotel. Jack was too tired to silence him. As they neared the hotel they passed another biped, staring at an empty building. It shimmered in the night like a ghost.
In his room, Jack collapsed without undressing. [ You’ll rumple all your nice clothes,] complained Fist. [ Not the style, no, not at all.]
Jack was already asleep.
Chapter 15
Jack made a list of useful things to do and spent the morning doing them. He showered and shaved. He went out for breakfast, then laid in a small stock of fruit and preserved foods. He took his dirty clothes to a laundrette and watched a washer-dryer spin them until they were warm and clean. A mail arrived from Andrea: ‘A message from our friend. No joy yet, going to take a few days at least.’ By then it was almost midday. Jack returned to his room and made himself a sandwich. The empty hours of the afternoon stretched out before him. There was no longer any reason to put off going to see his father.