"I understand. But Golding is a resident of Haven Core, where we can't touch him. But if he's tied into anything on the outside, we can make life difficult for him. Maybe enough to draw him out. And you may have given me a valuable piece of information."
"Yeah?"
Arthur steepled his fingers, concentrating. "Yes. If Golding is distributing memories, it has to be a cover for something. We need to follow the money and flush out what he's up to."
Jett rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's get started then."
Arthur shook his head. "Jett."
"Yeah?"
"You need to rest. How much sleep are you getting?"
"Not much. Don't worry about it — I feel great."
"You barely survived an explosion only days ago. You might have escaped without critical injuries—"
"Thanks to the armor. It held up nicely."
"It barely held up. As it is, I had to scrap it for recycling. So, congrats: you get a new one."
He gestured to the nearest uniform case, where the new armor was displayed.
"Not only is it a bit more durable, it's also equipped with intuitive smart-tech. Based on your body movement and threat detection, it will automatically activate weapons and gear to shorten your selection time. Squeeze your thumb tightly to fire your gauntlet spanners, jerk your arm back to increase the power, stand on your toes to activate jet thrusters, etc. Proto will give you the full tutorial."
"Great. The g-spans have been great, but I like the improvements. Can we go darker with the helmet? The silver one is great visually, but makes stealth a bit harder."
"No problem. And since we're upgrading, might as well pick up some other toys while you're here." He gestured to the arms cabinet.
"Nice." Jett looked over the display with an experienced eye, pausing to select a selective-fire railgun from its rack. "The syndicates are actively setting up ambushes for me. I think more firepower is in order."
"More firepower means more lethal results. You've been careful so far, but this will change things. How the public sees you. How law enforcement will deal with you."
Jett focused on examining the rifle. "I know. Can't be helped. A soldier has to have the tools he needs, or his mission will fail."
"And you're prepared to deal with the consequences?"
"I don't have a choice, Arthur. The syndicates won't go away by punching them out one at a time. They've declared war on me. I have to respond sooner or later. I'll try to keep things contained, but the scales will tip one way or the other, and I don't want to be unprepared."
"You sure?"
Jett looked up, face somber. "I'm sure."
"Okay." Arthur hovered over. "Nice choice of weapon — a major improvement over your last railgun. Charon 3000—ambidextrous grip that also functions as the magazine well, X-ray and infrared targeting scope with smart aim and five-hundred-meter range. It fires conventional, stun, and inferno rounds interchangeably and is equipped with a breach-laser cannon under the barrel."
"Breach-laser?"
"Punches a nice-sized hole through nearly anything. Takes five seconds to charge and two minutes to recharge."
"I'll take it."
"I thought you might." Arthur glided over to the garage/hangar area. "Since your activities are becoming more complex, I figured personal transportation is in order. Take a look at the Stingray."
Jett walked over, staring at the all-black, gleaming ground-to-air vehicle. "You shouldn't have."
"Try not to wreck it the first week, and we're even."
Narrow and aerodynamic, the Stingray had a long hood, sleek cockpit, and streamlined fairing from the front to the sides that spread out like wings and housed the anti-grav thrusters. The turbine fusion engine was stored in the rear, purring like a giant mechanical tiger when it hummed to life.
Jett whistled. "This looks too sexy to take into the streets."
"Sexy is the new deadly, then. Because this baby is equipped with stinger missiles, gatling lasers, and sonic cannons, not to mention a few other surprises. Proto will give you the tutorial. She's built for speed and evasiveness — something I know you'll find handy. Defensively, she has built-in ECMs to counter surveillance, and temporary cloaking for stealth. The cockpit fits two people — the pilot seat slides forward if you're taking a passenger."
Jett ran his hand over the Stingray's gleaming surface. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. Maybe you have to rescue someone like that time with your police girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend."
Arthur lowered his voice. "Or maybe you take on a partner. Who knows?"
Jett glanced over as if Arthur had shouted. "Partner. Not the first time you mentioned that."
Arthur shrugged. "The notion isn't foreign, Jett."
"You were Vigil's partner."
Arthur shifted in his chair. "That's right. So was Qhawa."
"She's not here."
"Your point?"
Jett sighed. "Do you want me to say it?"
"You think my disability is a direct result of my being Vigil's partner. That had he never enlisted my help, I wouldn't be in this… position."
Jett leaned against the Stingray. "Look, I understand if you don't want to talk about it."
"No." Arthur took a deep breath, exhaled. Calmed his fluttering nerves. "No, I don't mind. I need to talk about it, I think."
"How did it happen?"
"Mortis happened."
"Some kind of syndicate enforcer, right? Skull helmet, armor, and gadgets like Vigil."
"Warped reflection, yes. But he was never an enforcer for the syndicates. He worked for someone else."
"Who?"
"We never found out. He and Vigil often clashed, neither getting much of an upper hand. It was almost like a competition at first. A rivalry. Eventually, things turned ugly. The wounds they inflicted were more severe, their battles became more violent. The rivalry became a bitter feud. It all came to a head one hot summer night. I was tailing one of Mortis' crew and got impatient. Decided to bust them by myself. Long story short, it was an ambush. Mortis was there, waiting for Vigil. Instead, he got me."
Arthur shuddered. "Even now, I can't remember all of it. The memory surfaces now and then like a corpse from the bottom of the river, murky and rotting."
Jett took a step forward, empathy on his face. "Hey, there's no need—"
Arthur raised a hand. "It's okay. Mortis beat me half to death, tortured me, and posted the video so Vigil could see it. Then he said he'd finish the job if Vigil didn't stop him. The only catch was that Vigil and Viper were dismantling a linked series of explosives that Mortis planted in the tunnels underneath the Warrens with enough timed explosives to level the entire neighborhood, killing thousands. Vigil had to make a choice: save them or save me. He chose the Warrens, leaving me to my fate."
He exhaled a shuddering sigh. "He saved them. He and Viper managed to disarm the explosives. When he came for me, I was as close to death as anyone could be, my entire spine smashed nearly to powder by the beating. The miracles of surgery brought me back from the brink, fixed my face, mended my other bones, but my spine was irrevocably damaged, leaving me as I am now."
Jett gazed at him with empathetic eyes. "I'm sorry, Arthur."
Arthur waved the apology away. "It's ancient history now. Wayne retired as Vigil, driven by the grief and guilt behind his choice. I was bitter at the time, of course. I felt betrayed. It took a long time for me to understand the impossible situation Vigil was put in. Eventually, I was able to forgive Wayne. In my heart, anyway. I only wish I had told him before he died."
"And what happened to Mortis?"
"He tried several attempts to draw Vigil out, but Wayne stuck to his guns. He let the RCE handle things and kept out of it. Soon after, Mortis vanished as well. It was as if one couldn't exist without the other."