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I was unsurprised to find Suede and Johnson waiting for me at the hospital’s reception.
I’d gone yet another night without sleep and this pair of idiots were just what I needed while I was so exhausted. And high from the medication.
“You look a mess,” said Johnson. There was no sign of her injured arm anymore; the bullet graze would be covered by her uniform and, probably, all healed up. The incident with the shooter outside Flare felt like it happened a long time ago.
“Not much different than I normally look then?” I said as I approached the pair.
“I was just about to say the same thing,” laughed Suede. He patted me on the shoulder, the injured one, and I wondered at the damaged he’d done to my numbed wound. “Though I will admit that you could do with a change of clothes. I don’t think I’ve seen you that... er...”
“You weren’t even that bad after that stuff last year,” said Johnson. She wore a look of concern, a juxtaposition to Suede’s damned grin. “And you were smashed up and shot to pieces. You’re drenched in blood.”
I nodded. “Don’t remind me; my leg still hurts from that bullet wound.” I pointed to the dirty fabric. “The blood... it’s... not mine.” If there’d been a bed in front of me in that moment, I’d have fallen into it and passed into the depths of Morpheus’ arms. “I need to get some sleep.” I pushed past the two cops and a hand took my arm, preventing me from moving any further. “What?”
“Fancy staying just a little longer?” said Suede. “There’s someone here who wants a word with you.”
“Aren’t I the popular one?” I rolled my eyes as I spoke with a clear sarcastic tone. “Who and why?” I asked.
“A friend.”
“I don’t have too many of those. Who’s claiming to have the honour?”
He cleared his throat. “Maybe ‘friend’ was the wrong word,” said the policeman. He gestured for me to move to the elevator. “It’s Dionne Bex.”
“Goddammit.” It seemed that every time she turned up, she always made me come to her. “Isn’t she in a coma?”
“Not anymore,” said Suede.
“What in hell does she want?”
“That was pretty much Johnson’s reaction when I told her.”
I glanced over at the female cop; she shrugged, a slight grin hiding on her face.
“She heard you were here,” said Suede. “I mean, of course she did.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, the uninjured one this time, and gently moved me closer to the elevator. “She hears about everything.”
“Ms Dionne Bex has her fingers in too many pies,” I said knowingly as the three of us entered the elevator. “And not all of those pies are legal.”
“Now, now, Mr Gemini,” said Johnson. She squeezed in next to me; the carriage was too small. This was Sector Eight after all. “You don’t have any proof.”
“You remember what happened with Subject B? Dionne Bex should’ve been jailed for letting something like that get so far.”
Suede pushed a button, one of the higher floors but not the topmost. He laughed. “You and I both know there is no way Ms Bex will ever get prosecuted for that.” The lift doors closed. “All that stuff with parallel worlds and end of everything explosions would be too much for anyone to take as truth, nevermind that a big company like Tribeca was behind it all.”
“It’s sounds like a crazy conspiracy theory when you put it like that.”
“Isn’t it though? Really?” said the cop. “I mean, Bex is powerful enough and rich enough to make you disappear if she wanted to. She hasn’t. So, she can’t be completely evil.”
“There’s a difference between being evil and committing evil acts,” I said. “And anyway, she’s probably damned holding out to see if I’ll be useful again; I’m not a threat to her right now.”
“I think your experiences with her are clouding your judgement.”
I snorted a laugh in response and the pair of cops gave me an amused glance; I needed to remember that the very fact that they worked in the police force made them the puppets of people like Bex, unintentionally or not.
The elevator doors opened, and my escorts barged out into the hallway.
“Come along,” said Johnson. They led me down a corridor and I could already see a familiar face outside; Tony, one of Bex’s security team, stood guard.
I stopped. “Hey,” I said. “You still haven’t told me how she’s out of her coma so quick? She almost died. And how come she’s come all the way over to a Sector Eight hospital?”
Suede and Johnson both shrugged, almost in unison.
“I guess you’ll have to see what she chooses to tell you,” said the female cop. “We’ve just been told to bring you to her. Maybe she’s still bed bound.”
“One can only hope.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” said Johnson as we headed for the door. She nodded to Tony who opened the door for us. “Best behaviour, Jack,” she whispered.
I dramatically rolled my eyes in response but neither cop was looking at me to see it.
Damn it.
“Jack Gemini,” said a familiar voice with barely a hint of sincerity; her voice was dry and monotone. Unfriendly. “It’s so good to see you again.” Dionne Bex sat in a chair near the window, in a prim and proper suit with her hair in bun.
“Can’t say I feel the same way.” I was surprised by the lack of hospital bed or life support equipment. We were in a lounge, a posh one. With comfy red sofas and plants. Plants. That was rarity for Space Station Delta, nevermind a rarity for Sector Eight. Dionne Bex must’ve had them brought in, just for herself, for ambience, luxury. Still, this wasn’t as opulent as she probably wanted; this wasn’t her home Sector.
“I apologise for delaying your recovery, but this couldn’t wait.” She stood, apparently uninjured with not even the slightest sign of anything being wrong; it wasn’t an act and I could see she moved with ease. “Have you found my son?” She nodded to the two cops who flashed me a look of concern before leaving me alone with the CEO of Tribeca. She gestured to a seat on the sofa. “Have you?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to be found?” I didn’t want to give up all my cards. Or tell her that I’d found him, or rather he’d found me, and then I’d lost him again.
“Are you not a detective?” She sat and folded her arms. I’d only just noticed there was a tea set with two cups on a table nearby; it was unusual for her to be so courteous. “Regan’s messing with things, dangerous things and you’re supposed to bringing him in.”
“Oh?” I said with a raised eyebrow. I moved a little closer and found a position on the sofa that kept some distance between me and... her. “What sort of dangerous things? A little birdie told me that he was looking into his mother’s business. Are you trying to tell me Tribeca is dangerous? If that’s the case I would be utterly shocked.” My sarcasm was not subtle.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to insinuate, Mr Gemini and I really don’t appreciate it. You were hired to do a job and you need to do it.”
“I was under the impression that I’d been hired by Detective Suede to find your estranged son?”
“Well... yes... you were.”
“Good. At least I can rely on him to pay me.”
“I’m certain my words were: ‘you were,’” said Ms Bex. A grin interrupted her face. “I’ve taken over; same deal as our mutual friend offered you.” Her grin widened, an alien expression for someone like her. “He shouldn’t have come to you, but to be honest, that’s my failing; I should’ve expected something like that from a Sector Six police officer. But no matter; now, it’s me in control.”
Goddammit. “I didn’t sign any contract with you.”
“I’m the person paying you to find my son.”
“And, if decline?”
“That’s up to you, Mr Gemini,” said the woman. “But it might be worth reminding you of your current financial situation.”
“Are you serious?! You screwed me over last year! I stopped Subject B and you barely paid me anything!”
“I didn’t have to pay you anything; you didn’t meet the terms of your contract. You were hired to find Professor Howard Lowe, not stop Subject B. You were lucky I was feeling so generous.”
“You can’t say you didn’t benefit from me stopping him; he almost destroyed Space Station Delta.”
“But you didn’t find Lowe.”
“It wasn’t my fault he was killed.”
“You didn’t find him.”
“And what exactly makes you think I’ll be able find your son?”
She cleared her throat. “I don’t think you’re entirely incompetent, Mr Gemini,” she said. “As you said yourself, you did stop Subject B.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Still, it is a pity he’s dead.” She picked up the teapot and poured some tea into one of the cups. She hadn’t asked if I’d wanted any, just assumed. “The other you.” She handed me the cup, which I took without realising, and gestured to the milk jug and sugar.
“Subject B was going to destroy the world.” I wasn’t a tea drinker, but I piled sugar cubes into the concoction to make it as sweet as possible. I wished it was whiskey instead. “I think you’re forgetting that he tried to open a portal to another dimension.”
“Say what you will but you can’t not admire his determination..”
“No. No, he was batshit crazy!” I added a dash of milk to the tea in my hand.
“Subject B could’ve been useful, had he survived.” She’d already made her own tea and took a sip from the cup. “Pity.”
“Yes, it’s a pity the almost mass murderer died.”
“He could’ve really advanced the technology he was playing with,” she said. “Even you could, if you’d ever consider submitting yourself to some tests.”
“What in goddamned hell are you thinking? Lowe’s research is dangerous. No-one should be messing with it! Ever!”
“All technology is dangerous, if not properly reigned in,” said Bex. “We need to take risks to progress.”
“What kind of damned hippy bullshit is that supposed to be? Reigned in?! Reigned in?! You couldn’t even reign in Subject B, nevermind the technology!” My recent injuries objected to my rant, but I persisted, ignored the agony and discomfort; the painkillers weren’t doing shit to stop the hurt. “I can’t believe you’d say something so stupid! Lowe told me himself that his own transdimensional conduit tech would put everything in danger! Goddamned everything! Are you so arrogant that you think it won’t happen if you mess with his work? What in hell is wrong with you?” I realised at some point, I’d stood, and my face felt hot. I sat, thankful to take the stress off my bruises, and took a sip of my tea; it was bitter despite the sugar. My body, specifically my torso and shoulder, ached. I raised my eyebrows at the woman opposite. “Well?”
She smirked, unfazed by my sudden outburst. “Have you noticed that there haven’t been quite so many power cuts in the last year? Some brownouts, yes, but power cuts?”
“What...?”
Ms Bex nodded. “My top scientists have been working on improving Lowe’s tech, especially after what happened last year with Subject B. There’s been multiple tests, and all have been a success, subjectively.”
“Subjectively?”
“Everything’s still here, isn’t it?” She finished her tea and placed the cup back onto the table. “No world ending cataclysms.”
“Yet,” I said. I sipped the acrid brew. My gut was screaming there was something here I wasn’t seeing. “Tell me, is there any relation between these experiments, and you being attacked? I mean, you don’t have green eyes, so it seems odd that you’d be attacked by the copycat killer. And just how did someone like that get so close to a heavily protected CEO of a multibillion credit company?”
“There is no connection, I assure you.” She was lying. Or at least she wasn’t telling me the whole truth about what was going on.
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s obvious,” said Bex.
“I was under the impression that you were heavily injured by the attack; you were at death’s door, and it was one of the reasons I was hired to find your son. You were in coma.”
The woman shrugged. “I recovered.”
“Multiple organ failures, transplants needed, massive blood loss. And look at you,” I gestured at the prim and proper woman. “Not even a scar or sign of any injury. Not a hair out of place.”
“The marvels of modern medicine.” Even as she spoke, I could tell by her tone that she wasn’t completely convinced by her own statement. “And I couldn’t leave my company run itself.”
“It’s out of control. So are you Ms Bex.” I shifted forward in my seat. “There’s something not right with all this. And meddling in that goddamned science project! Why?!” I sighed. “Know that I will get to the bottom of things.”
“And where will you find the time? You need to find my son... and haven’t you got a case to solve? A favour for Elizabeth Decker? You call her Queenie, right? You want to keep her happy, don’t you?”
Damn it; she was right. “You think you’re clever, think you’ve got something over me. But you haven’t. I love Queenie. I’d do anything for her. Nothing will get in the way of that... but I will find out what’s going on with you and this transdimensional nonsense.”
“You won’t,” said the Tribeca CEO. “And you know why? I’m not hiding anything. The power crisis has been public knowledge for a long time and it’s no secret that one of the biggest corporations in the Solar System has been working on new and ingenious ways to solve it.”
“What they don’t know is how dangerous it is.”
“Risk.” Her hands gesticulated a pair of scales, one hand down and one hand up. “Reward.”
“I’m sure the media would be interested in the events of last year.”
“You signed an NDA remember?” Dionne Bex laughed. “Besides, who do you think owns most of the media? And any I don’t, I have the power to quash. Do you really think I’d let something like that get out into the public domain?” She leant forward. “And who would believe you? Parallel dimensions, world-ending catastrophes and evil twins! Ha! You’d be treated like one of those nutters in the Church of the Third Encounter! A pariah.”
“You mean the same cult you donate credits to?”
“What?” There was an instant change in her demeanour; her grin faded and her skin paled.
“I’ve heard that that you’ve been providing them with some funding.”
“You can’t believe everything you hear.” She slid back in her seat and crossed her legs. “Rumours can be quite damaging.”
“Credible source.”
She snorted. “As you can probably surmise with your fantastic detective skills, Mr Gemini, Tribeca Systems is a massive company, and I can’t keep track of every charitable contribution. But I assure you that it’s something I’ll have looked into.”
“I’m sure you will.” Or rather, I thought to myself, she’d look into how I found out. She wouldn’t be shocked at the source, her son, considering how famously they did not get on.
“We’re done here,” said Bex.
“Hmm?”
“We’re done.” She pointed to the door. “Let those two fool cops know when you’ve found Regan.”
I shuffled out of the room and out into the corridor. Tony was there, he ignored me, and so were Suede and Johnson.
The pair offered to take me home, and no sooner than I had entered their autocar, Suede turned to me and spoke. “News from HQ,” he said. “I thought we’d wait until we were alone to tell you this, but your attacker has made a confession. He was hired online through the black web-market from a forum relating to the Delartes.“
My thoughts turned to The Victor.