He turned and left, immediately oppressed from the outside heat. He felt just as hot inside, furious from the casual violation of his personal moments.
It's not just you. They have thousands, maybe millions of memories, all being laundered and distributed like the latest narcotic. You can't take it out on one Haze joint. You have to get to the source of the problem. Find out how Golding has been doing it and shut it down.
He didn't even notice the android courier until it glided to a stop directly in front of him. The slim, humanoid robot gave him a friendly wave. "Mr. Jett Wolfe?"
Jett gave it a wary glance. "Yeah."
The courier handed him a small package. "Delivery for you."
It rolled away, leaving Jett staring at the box. He glanced around, but no one paid him any attention. Opening the package, he was surprised by what lay inside. It was a cell phone similar to the type he used in the pre-Cataclysm years. It immediately vibrated from an incoming call. He tapped to accept, raising the phone to his ear.
"Who is this?"
"Hello, Vigil," a garbled voice said over the line.
Jett's heart nearly exploded. He ducked, colliding with a pair of men passing by. Ignoring their angry shouts, he backed into a nearby alley, frantically checking the rooftops and windows.
The voice tsked through the phone. "Looking for assassins? Snipers? If I wanted you dead, you would be. And I'm not going to expose you, if that's what you're worried about. Why would I? We're just becoming friends."
"Who the hell are you?" He looked around again but couldn't spot anything out of place. People strolled by, oblivious to his predicament. He backed against the alley wall, eyes scanning the windows on the opposite side. The cameras. The drones.
"Call me Dolos."
Jett squinted, still scanning the nearby buildings. "Well, Dolos — I'm not in the mood for games. Either you tell me what you want, or I break this phone."
"How did it feel to experience your memories, slivers of your very being stolen and distributed like cheap drugs to the masses? I can only imagine the helpless rage you must be feeling right now."
"You were there?"
"In Limbo? Yes, I was there. Just like I'm here right now. In a way, I'm omnipresent. You know… like God. And just like the Divine Being, I want to help you."
"Help me? With what?"
"Navigating hell."
"I don't believe in hell."
"This city is hell, Vigil. Haven't you noticed? It's inhabited by monsters and other beasts that prey on the helpless. You've seen it, witnessed the city's true face. Unlike most people, you know what real evil is."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The voice changed in pitch, betraying excitement. "Oh, but you do. Tell me something, Vigil. What did you feel when you saw it?"
"Saw what?"
"The mouth the Abyss. The all-seeing Eye when the sky tore itself open and revealed what lay beyond our pale and ashen world. You were there, at the end."
Jett's mind flashed back to the day of the Cataclysm. The terrible day when he lost everyone in a manner of minutes…
A mouth ripped the stratosphere open, and a torrent of liquid fire roiled out like discharged blood. Everything altered and distorted in ripples of heat and blinding light. The sound that followed was an alien toll, like some ancient god falling to the earth with a dying roar.
He repressed a shudder. "Yeah. I was there."
"So was I. I saw the end of the world through your eyes, experienced that terrifying, awe-inspiring moment as if I lived it. It grants you a certain amount of clarity, doesn't it? When you see the world end, you realize how much people take for granted, how quickly it can all be dissolved by fire. We share that, Vigil. We're connected."
His fists clenched. "You're the one behind the memory theft?"
"No, not me. You can thank your friend Willian Golding for that. I just benefitted from his Machiavellian designs. Your memory files are… captivating. I know about you: Jett Wolfe, brother of Imperial legend Marcus Wolfe, but a hero in your own right. A man who fought the gods and lived to tell the story."
"So, you watched some of my memories. That doesn't mean you know me."
"I experienced your memories, Vigil. Immersed in them as if I were you. And now, so have thousands of other people. Hundreds of thousands."
Jett's muscles quivered from the sudden surge of adrenaline. "What's your point?"
"I've watched you for a while, you know. You might say that surveillance is my gift and my curse. Experiencing your memories in Immersion compelled me to watch you closely, see what you would do. And so, I witnessed your transition from depressed Defrost to protector of the city. You might say that I'm a fan, Vigil. When everyone else did nothing, you chose to put on your armor and fight the demons from the abyss. But do you know something else about hell?"
"No, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."
"It's concentric. Goes in circles. Just like you've been doing: spinning your wheels. Getting nowhere."
Jett's hand tightened on the phone. "Says the phantom voice on the line. Why talk to me?"
"Because I want to apologize."
"What?"
"I was wrong to experience your memories. It's a theft, an invasion. A violation. You're a good man and didn't deserve half of what happened to you. I contacted you because I think we can work together to topple the people who did this to you in the first place."
"No way."
"You need allies in this war, Vigil. It's not just you; it's millions of others. There is a cancer in this city, eating at everything it can be. You thought the Beasts were terrible? You don’t know the half. Diabolis makes them look like petty criminals. Their mind harvesting is just the latest in an operation that stretches from the Underbelly to City Hall."
"Then go to the RCE and hand over all this surveillance you say you have. Problem solved."
"Don't insult me, Vigil. You know the RCE is toothless, crippled by corruption and inefficiency. If they were doing their jobs, you wouldn't be doing yours."
"Let's say I buy this whole cloak-and-dagger act, Dolos. Why should I trust you?"
"My enemies are your enemies."
"You're my enemy for all I know."
"I know who's behind Diabolis."
Jett hesitated. "Who?"
"Janus."
"That's a mythological name."
"Mythology is what we leave behind, Vigil. It's a legacy that long outlasts the civilizations that created it. Small wonder Janus chose his name from the hallowed records. He obviously has dreams of living beyond his time. We all do. One day, you might even become a myth yourself."
"Poetic, but flattery will get you nowhere. I'm no fool — if Diabolis falls, then you ascend. If you think I'm going to be manipulated into getting rid of your enemies for you, think again. What's to stop you from betraying me and inheriting the entire criminal empire Janus leaves behind? It's hardly an original tactic."
"His empire is nothing to me. A sacrificial lamb that I invite you to dine upon."
"Prove it. Give me something I can work with."
"Moneta."
"What's that?"
"An offering. Take it or leave it."
Jett's jaw clenched. "I'm through playing games. Don't stay in touch."
Dropping the phone, he crushed it with his heel. Then with another quick look, he ducked out of the alley and headed back to the air-bus station, mind racing. The memories flickered through his mind, phantom faces staring at him from across the canyon of time. It was near evening, but the heat beat down regardless, relentless in its intensity. Dolos' words echoed in his mind.
This city is hell, Vigil. Haven't you noticed?
The summer warmth oppressed with every walking step, melting faces into waxy frowns, rippling with fever-dream intensity. Dripping with sweat, Jett headed back toward the airbus station, trying to shake the sensation of being watched by oppressive eyes.