3) Nanune’s desecrated head and the stealing of Mal’s display pointed to either Blue Lights or his accomplice being behind the facial damage homicides—as did the tie-ins to Vinaldi. In that case, why were the NRPD files security locked? Blue Lights wasn’t a cop, I’d lay money on that—so how did he rate protection? The shooter I’d killed outside Mal’s apartment had no rap sheet, and I’d a hunch Blue Lights wouldn’t have either. Which meant either that all the trouble was coming from out of town or that someone was going to a lot of trouble to make it look that way.
Fine thinking as far as it went, but it didn’t go far enough. Instead of making me feel like I was getting somewhere, it made me unsettled and nervous. The downside of Suej being the key was that it meant that the other spares were probably expendable, and none of it got me much closer to understanding what was going on or how I could rescue them. There was at least one part of the puzzle still missing, and until I knew what it was I couldn’t go after the spares, or even ensure that Suej was safe. I couldn’t do anything.
I looked up to see Suej’s eyes on me.
“Are you okay, Jack?” she asked; I stopped drumming my fingers on the tabletop and smiled.
“Sure,” I said. “How was the burger?”
“Good.” She grinned. “Nicer than Ratchet’s.” Ratchet had been a droid out of the top drawer, but, as discussed, cooking hadn’t been one of his key skills—and especially not short-order stuff. On the other hand, it wasn’t supposed to have been, and it was surprising he’d been able to cook at all. For the first time since leaving the Farm I experienced my recurrent curiosity as to what exactly Ratchet had been. I also felt a sudden twinge of loneliness and melancholy on realizing that the machine which had saved my life was probably unrecognizable now. Trashed or reprogrammed by the company, his mind dead forever as punishment for exceeding his role. There ought to be a warning on my forehead, I thought: Think carefully before entering this man’s life, because very few people make it back out alive. Then I thought it was time to can the self-pity before I started boring even myself.
“Can we go there?” Suej asked, and I turned to follow her finger. One of the monitors was showing a news report about some mountain, huge and covered with snow. Suej probably thought the mountain was somewhere just outside New Richmond, back near the way we’d come down from the hills.
“Maybe,” I said. I was about to make it sound more convincing when suddenly I stopped.
Mount Everest.
“You’re not okay,” Suej said, immediately. “I see it in your face. What’s wrong?”
I’d realized what Nearly had inadvertently reminded me of the night before: the report I’d already seen about someone discovering a mountain higher than Everest. Presumably I was now seeing it again.
But that was bullshit. Mount Everest was the highest mountain on Earth. Of course it fucking was.
And now the gates were opening, I realized something else: Wall-diving. Jumping out of windows with nothing but some weird fiberglass rod for company. How likely was that? Did that make any sense at all?
“Jack, what’s wrong?”
Ignoring her, I looked toward the ladies’ room. A sudden influx had turned the area round the bar into a crush of people. Nearly was a way back from the counter, talking to some guy. From her body language I could tell the conversation wasn’t especially welcome, but no more than that.
“I’m sorry, Suej, but we’re going to have to go,” I said. Suej pouted, but she knew something was wrong. She stood up with me and I waited while she gathered her bags, and then she let me lead her down into the throng.
When we got to Nearly, she was alone. “We have to leave,” I said. “We have to leave right now.”
Nearly looked at Suej, then back at me. “Says who? I’m thirsty.” I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away, aware that I was appearing a Neanderthal. She yanked it back again. “What is your problem?”
“What’s the highest mountain in the world?” I asked, fighting to stay patient. Nearly just stared at me, buffeted by the people around us. “Quickly.”
“Well, Mount Fyi, of course. They just found out. Do I win a prize?”
“No. That’s why we have to go.” I looked around the crowd. The man Nearly’d been talking to had disappeared, “Who was that guy?”
Nearly looked confused, then realized whom I was talking about. “Said he was a John of mine from a couple of years back; wanted to play tonight. I told him to go away. Why?”
“Didn’t you recognize him?”
“No, but—how can I put this?—it’s not like I keep a lock of each one’s hair.”
“Nearly, trust me. We really have to go.”
She stood her ground for a moment longer, then rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you’re no fun at all,” she grumbled, and allowed me to pull her toward the door.
Too late.
I suddenly sensed time rushing toward me again, without really knowing what I was reacting to. Maybe it was some sound from deep in the crowd. Or perhaps I felt the crush of people parting. Some sixth sense from long ago, stirring sluggishly. I instinctively put myself between Suej and the rest of the bar, shoving Nearly toward the door. As I surreptitiously pulled my gun out I felt Suej move behind me and glanced to see that Nearly had taken her hand and was taking her with her. I didn’t know whether she’d started to believe me or was just doing what she was told for once. Either way, I was grateful.
I quickly slipped a few yards to the right through the crowd, keeping my gun hidden and low. Scanned the faces, and kept moving in unpredictable directions six feet at a time, turning my head as far round as I could, trying to feel where he’d be. It was like moving through grasping and twisted trees. I used to be good at that. But he was obviously better than me.
“Shutdown,” a voice whispered an inch behind my ear.
With a whole-body spasm I crunched my heel backward and felt it connect solidly with his shin. Whirling on my other foot I brought the gun up, cracking it against people in the crowd. Surprised mouths opened in front of me. The man had gone but at least people were getting the fuck out of my way. I searched the crowd, saw no one, then my head snapped toward the door. He’d twisted behind me and was ten feet away, carving his way through the throng toward Suej. But it wasn’t Blue Lights: It was someone new.
I could see Nearly’s head just outside but she didn’t catch my desperate signals. Suej was looking somewhere else entirely, staring at the wooden frame of the door, I forgot the secret of slipping through people and threw myself forward, fighting the crowd as if it was a thicket of undergrowth. A mass of arms and legs and red angry faces. Hard elbows, jabbing into me.
He was getting to the door much more quickly than I, slipping through the crowd as if it wasn’t there. There was something in the way he moved, a murderous grace, which told me he’d been trained for this. I had been, too; and once upon a time maybe could have caught him. But not now. It was far too long ago.
When I started going backward, I knew I was going to have to do something unusual. I changed course and headed for the bar like a lumbering missile, slamming people out of the way with both hands. I made it to the counter and hoisted myself up, sending rows of glasses flying. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on spillage, and whirled to face the crowd.
“Stay there or I’m going to blow your head off,” I shouted at him. Not very original, but there you go. Some phrases are hard-wired into the male psyche. When the need arises, out they come. The guy knew this, and gave it about as much heed as it deserved, continuing toward the door. The crowd were less sanguine, and dived to get out of the way; opening a channel to the exit, exactly what I didn’t want.