Laser lights flashed from her eyes as she looked at the world outside. “Let’s try not to overthink things, Mick. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. Discovering the truth is your specialty. You’ll find out on your own the way things operate. For now try to enjoy the moment. We came together and got some good work done.”
I slowly nodded. “Amen to that, sister. Way I see it, we should all be grateful just to have made it through in one piece.”
She offered a genuine smile then, one which made her natural beauty glow brighter than the city lights. “And we have you to thank for that, don’t we?”
I was caught off guard when she leaned forward and kissed me. The tang of blood and raspberries had just begun to dissolve on my tongue when she pulled back, a look of regret in her eyes.
“It’s too bad you’re not on the inside, Mick Trubble. We could use someone like you.”
The ride pulled over to the curb. “This is your stop. I still have farther to go.”
We were Bayside. Which meant she either meant to have me rubbed out, or she knew me better than I thought she did. I stepped out and watched as the ride switched modes from wheeler to floater and pulsed upward into the gleaming flow of air traffic.
Then I smiled. Because I knew I’d see her again.
I thought about her words an hour later when I sat at a little casino nightclub called the Pale Horse. It was high in the Uppers with a rotating view of the bay and surrounding city. New Haven glimmered like a handful of mixed jewels.
While the sax man poured out the blues, I sipped on a Casablanca. I should have felt up on my downers, but I didn’t. The Mean Ol’ Broad was melted to slag, and Maxine was submerged in Mr. Beck’s swimming pool. To top it off like grenadine, I was trapped in a Haven built on lies and the bones of folks like Dr. Faraday.
Everyone around me went about their business, their heads full of memory implants. Maybe they were the lucky ones. I figured I should’ve been grateful enough for being in one piece after all the bunk I’d been through.
But I still felt a nagging sensation, like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
“You’ve got a lot of guts to come here, Mick Trubble.” The dame’s rich voice was thick with Russian brogue.
“Madam Goryacheva.” I picked one of her Bayside casinos to introspect in. It was fitting, since my troubles with her were what got me tumbling down the rabbit hole in the first place.
She was an older dame, but still full-bosomed and graceful. Her face held a severe look which spoke of command. A few hulking brunos stood nearby, pretending to lounge.
“You did me a favor tonight, to warn me of the raid on my home. To think those mudaks would have the balls to take me on my own turf.” She trembled with rage.
“I take it they’re regretting that move?”
She drew her finger across her throat. “Scrap heap. Androids are predictable with their sweep patterns. My boys took care of those can openers. No satisfaction in that. I want to see blood, hear screams… ” Her eyes held a faraway look as if savoring the thought. “If I get my hands on that bratchnie Captain Graves I will peel him like bacon strips and feed him to my dogs.”
“No worries on that score, darling. I already took care of that bit of business. Consider it a bonus.”
She gave me an appraising look from the corner of her eye. We gazed at the lights of the city for a moment before she broke the silence in a low voice.
“I… suppose the debt between us is cancelled, Mick Trubble. You did good thing for me. We would never have known what was coming.” Her impressive cleavage heaved with her sigh of regret. “I should kill you for good measure, but one turn deserves another. I will call off Nimrods. Be more careful in the future. I will not be so gracious should there be a next time.”
She walked away with an air of regal satisfaction. Her brunos gave me a last hard look before shadowing her.
I sipped my drink.
“Anyone sitting here?”
I turned my head, and there was Detective Kennedy. She was dressed the part this time, in a flogger and even a Bogart like mine.
Cute.
“I’ve been thinking about you, Ms. Kennedy.”
“Really?” She smiled demurely. “Were they good thoughts?”
“Depends. Giggle juice?”
“Why not?”
I motioned to the barkeep to hit her up with a drink. She ordered a kir, which made the keep raise his eyebrows. I didn’t fault him. He was human, after all. Didn’t have every drink ever made categorized in his data banks like a synoid.
“Just add a little blackcurrant in some white wine for the lady.”
I watched her delicately sip after he served it up. I wasn’t fooled, though. Delicate wasn’t the word for Ms. Kennedy. “So, what gives me the pleasure of your company, Detective? Gonna slip the bracelets on me or ask for a dance?”
She set the drink on the counter and smiled. “I’d very much like a dance, thank you.” She doffed the flogger so I could check out her profile in her cop rags. I love a woman in uniform.
We strode over to the floor and floated slowly across the polished wood grain. The cat on the sax was good; one of those players you only find in smoke-filled joints crammed with sweat-beaded folks who lived like he played.
Kennedy was nimble on her feet despite the heels. My hands were at the point of her waist where the swell of her hips bloomed. Her arms were around my neck. She looked up with a pleased smile, allowing me a good look at her eyes. They were dark blue, like the night sky when the moon is brightest.
She smiled. “I understand Captain Graves won’t be occupying his office anymore.”
“Afraid not, darling. He met with an unfriendly piece on lead in the line of duty. Comes with the gig. You don’t exactly seem to be mourning.”
“Graves was corrupt and greedy. He won’t be missed. Someone else will be filling his shoes. Someone with more integrity.”
“Congratulations, Captain. Integrity isn’t too popular in New Haven, though. Graves may have bitten off more than he could chew in the end, but he knew the way things worked. I’d walk softly, if I were you.”
Her smile widened. “If you were me, you’d be a lot prettier. Forgive me if I find that advice a little conflicting coming from you, Mr. Trubble. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were worried about me.”
“You probably should. Know better, I mean. But for some reason I’m kinda taking a shine to you, Captain Kennedy.”
“How are your memories coming along?”
I blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. Of course she’d know all about me once she got access to Graves’ files. “Not much to ‘em. Had a couple of fuzzy flashbacks. Far as I know, the rest are lost with all of the Savant’s databanks.”
“You know why you’re still alive, don’t you? Why even the Gestalt are afraid to knock you off?”
“Let’s say I don’t.”
“No one wants to be responsible for the death of one of the Secret Service’s top agents. The Gestalt is waiting, Mick. Waiting to see how it plays out. How the SS will react. Whether they try to recover you… or leave you to the wolves.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Your future is riding on how they choose to play their hand.”
I smiled. Not a big surprise. If I didn’t have a heap of trouble on my head, I’d have to find a new line of work.
“I don’t mind when it rains, Ms. Kennedy. That’s why I carry an umbrella.” I tapped the Replacement Killer in its holster under my arm.
“None of which helps with the fact I still have a head full of memory implants. If what you’re saying is true, then I had a life before I came here. A life I don’t remember. A life I’m not even sure I want to remember.”