“So what now? We don’t have a way to harvest those memories, and the more I think about it, the less I’m inclined to want to. To be honest, I don’t much like you, Hunter.”
“That’s understandable. According to the data in my system, your dislike of self was the driving motivation behind your career and your actions.”
I funneled smoke through my nostrils. “Well, I guess it’s like Selene said. This is a place for new beginnings. No offense, Ace, but I think I’ll stick with what I got.”
“I have no control over your decision. I can tell you the Secret Service won’t just let you walk away a free man. You were… valuable to their operation.”
“Guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Question is, what do we do about you?”
“Dr Faraday programmed me with a primary directive. That directive is to keep you alive. The repercussions of these last couple of nights will spread across the entire Haven and beyond. You will have need of my knowledge and my abilities, more than likely sooner than you expect.”
He looked around. “In the meantime I suggest we make ourselves scarce, as you might say. Those bodies will wash up somewhere, and with them questions you and I will not want to answer.”
“Sounds good to me. I need some time to think this gonzo trip over, anyway.” I turned, but stopped after a couple of steps and looked back. “How do I find you if I need you?”
Hunter had never moved. He stared into the dark waters. “I will be around. This is only the beginning of a fruitful association, Mick Trubble.”
I walked away with the sun at my back. When I topped the stairs I looked down, but Hunter was nowhere in sight.
I took a zeppelin home, since I was out of a ride and all. The sun shone though the buildings, none of its splendor taken away by the fact that the invisible barrier of the Haven separated us from its direct rays. I processed the maddening flood of information as the rounded giant ghosted silently across the sky.
I took a glance around. The other passengers read tablets or listened to streaming tunes from their datacoms, oblivious to the fact that their lives were a cocktail of memory implants and mental suggestion. They were trapped in their everyday routines, blissful in the ignorance of their mentally adjusted lifestyles.
I envied them. Because I was a basic stew of conflicting emotions. Maybe Frankie Newman was right. I might be just the byproduct of Dr. Faraday’s imagination. After all, the only thing we have to establish our identities is knowledge of self. And what did I know about myself?
Then I thought about Hunter Valentino. His complete lack of personality. The ruthless void of emotion he displayed when he slapped Mayor Beck around and shot Frankie down. I’d have liked to imagine that his being a synoid had something to do with that, but I really suspected his claim to emulate me was probably right on point.
Then there was that flashback I’d seen. I didn’t know the man who spoke about killing people like it was a favorite pastime. He wore my face, but was a complete stranger to me.
And if that was the person I was, did I really want to go back to being him? The answer was obvious. I told Frankie the truth when I said I believed in New Haven. I had to. I needed to believe second chances existed.
It was like Poddar said: nothing mattered if your life wasn’t happy. Well, my life had never been a walk in the park, but it suited me a lot better than being a Secret Service gunman with bad fashion sense and a deficit in personality.
After I scoped the zones for evil eyes, I tapped a sequence on my holoband. A thin drive slid open, and I removed the miniscule chip which lay inside.
I had told no one about what I found near the fragments of the orb. No bigger than a fingernail, the thin data chip looked innocent enough. But I knew better. Inside of it was the mind of Dr. Faraday; the research and developing projects which had cost him his life. It was the Grimoire, the real one.
Something else was probably buried in the nanobytes of collected data. The memory transferring process he pioneered. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to use any of it. But better in my hands than anyone else in New Haven.
I placed it back in the drive shut it away.
After getting off the zeppelin, I managed to get back to my office without getting mugged. The first thing I noticed was Maxine parked beside the joint, shining like new. Seemed as though Mr. Beck had decided to clean out his swimming pool. I almost shed a tear.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Maxine.”
“Thank you Mr. Trubble. It’s good to be back.” I was so ecstatic that I almost missed the big change in my office as I entered.
“Good morning, Mick.” Angel sat at the desk my android secretary used to occupy, dressed smart and sexy as a cliché. “I started some java for you. You take it black, don’t you?”
“Angel? What are you doing here, sweetheart? And where’s Pris?”
“The android? She was a pile of scrap. Consider her retired. After this whole ordeal I didn’t see the point in the old gig. I’m starting to enjoy life on the wild side. So when I heard about this opportunity, I jumped right in.”
“Opportunity? What—?”
She tapped my dropped jaw. “An open mouth catches flies, sugar. The opportunity offered by the person who runs this place. You know — right inside.” She nodded toward my office.
I frowned as I pulled out the Replacement Killer. “Stay here, doll. I got some cleanup to do.”
“Mick, what are you—?”
I ignored her as I kicked in my door and swept the place over. It was worse than I expected.
The joint was… completely clean.
The desk was polished, the walls repainted and a new table was stationed in the middle of the room. Even the carpet looked new. The trash had been emptied, and the computers looked completely updated.
"Just getting back?” Ms. Kilby looked up from where she sat at the desk. My desk. Poddar lounged on the sofa with his leg in a cast. My sofa. Rob offered a bottle of brew from where he sat at the table. My table. My brew.
I gratefully took it.
"Yeah. Had to feed the fishes. I see you've made yourselves comfortable."
"Yes, well, if you're going to be working for me, I thought I'd set the standard for how things are going to be from now on. My employees won't be working in a pig sty."
"Wait." I sputtered. "Your employee? Sister, this is my joint!"
"Was. But you were in foreclosure, and I bought the lease. You didn't see the sign on the door?"
I took a peep. "Kilby's Troubleshooting and Investigation.”
Actually, it didn't sound half bad.
"Sounds awful," I said. “What’s with the ‘investigation’ part?”
“Come now, Mr. Trubble. There are a lot of unanswered questions hanging around this little caper of ours. We’ve all discussed it. And we won’t rest until we find out the truth.”
I shrugged. "Some stones are better left unturned, but hey — it's your place. Have a blast. Me? I’m a solo act."
"Aw, sit down," Rob said. "What's the point of trying to save face? And besides, you know you'll miss us the moment you walk out that door. Plus, Stinker's taken a shine to you now. Be a shame to let her down.”
She barked her agreement as he scratched between her ears.
Poddar nodded. "Some things can't be argued against. We're a team now. You might as well accept it."
Angel stepped in from her office. “I hope he does. I’d hate to think I’m out of a job already.”
“I’ll think about it.” I turned to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I’m about forty winks short of a nights’ sleep. Even a man like me needs a day off now and then.”