Hex (2 page)

“Thanks for the directions,” he told Kez. “Catch you around.”

“I could wait for you while you do business,” the boy suggested, and Wraith gave him a sharp look. He didn't delude himself that Kez had become attached to him after a ten-minute conversation. After the rate he had been handing out credits it was no surprise that the boy was unwilling to see the source of supply dry up. Usually he would have made it clear straight off that their association was terminated. But here, in a city he didn't know, he didn't make any objections.

“You can wait here if you want.” He shrugged. “But I'll be some time. You can watch the flitter for me.”

“Sure thing,” Kez agreed, leaning back against the small craft as Wraith began to walk away.

The only obvious approach to the building Kez had identified as belonging to the Countess's operation was along a narrow spur of walkway which still seemed in relatively good repair. But as Wraith headed toward it a figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of him to bar the way. It was a big man, dressed in combat gear and holding a heavy assault rifle menacingly. Muscle, Wraith realized, hired to guard the building.

“You lost, friend?” the man asked, tightening his grip on the rifle.

“I'm looking to do some business,” Wraith told him, his own stance carefully nonthreatening. He had weapons if he chose to use them, but this was a formality, not a genuine confrontation.

“The Countess know you're coming?” the guard asked.

“Not yet, I'm from out of town.”

“A ganger?”

“Not anymore.”

“OK, go on in,” the guard said eventually. “But no trouble.”

“Thank you,” Wraith acknowledged and stepped out onto the walkway. It was only a short distance to the main door of the building, which stood open. The windows were metal-shielded all the way up to the next level, giving the building the appearance of a fortress. Apparently the Countess was good enough to maintain considerable security precautions and Wraith was favorably impressed.

The inside of the building was dark and when he stepped inside the door he stood still for a moment, blinking to adjust to the dim lighting. He was standing in a wide empty hall, obviously designed as the foyer of a corporation building or hotel. There were about eight doors leading off in various directions but all except one were shielded and blocked up with rubble. The only empty door was protected by two guards, a man and a woman, both dressed similarly to the man outside. They stood at ease as Wraith approached, but they held their weapons with a cool confidence.

“State your name and business into the vidcom,” the woman told him, stepping aside to reveal a screen set into the wall. “The Countess will decide whether to see you.” The screen was dark, not revealing the person on the other end, either the Countess herself or someone working for her. The unit itself was a recent design, probably programmed to scan as well as transmit.

“Wraith,” he said levelly. “I need to find some people for a deal.” There was a pause before a dry voice spoke out of the vidcom.

“What kind of deal?”

“An investigation,” he said into the unit. “I can't say any more here.”

“All right,” the voice said, after waiting for a few moments. “You can come up, but leave your weapons behind.” Wraith hesitated. But from the look on the guards' faces this issue was not open for discussion. Reaching into his jacket he brought out his laser pistol, then he removed the blade from the sheath on his back and handed both weapons to the female guard.

“What's in the bag?” the woman asked.

“Clothes, computer disks,” Wraith told her, and the woman nodded in confirmation after glancing at a readout beside the screen. Obviously he had been right about the vidcom scanning him.

“OK, you can go now,” the male guard told him, and Wraith nodded. Their system was not infallible; it had failed to scan the extra knife he had not given up, but there were probably more guards further up.

The main hall had been dilapidated and dark but as Wraith walked past the two guards everything changed. He found himself at the foot of a wide staircase, the floor, walls, and ceiling covered in a brilliantly reflective shielding. He couldn't see the light source but the stairway was brightly lit. He could see his own figure reflected disorientingly into infinity and found it difficult to balance with any sureness. That was undoubtedly intentional, he thought as he made his way up the stairs. They curved gradually and he couldn't be sure in what direction he was heading. However, he must have climbed up at least two floors by the time the stairs came to an end and he found himself standing on a narrow landing, staring at his own reflection in a blank, mirrored wall. His face gleamed eerily from the metal surface like a ghost: gray eyes set in a narrow, chalk-white face, framed by wild white hair.

Part of the wall slid away silently to reveal the Countess's center of operations. Terminals and screens covered the walls, connecting her to her information network. Cases of equipment were stacked around the room, all flawlessly new. In the center of the room stood the woman he had come to see. She was thin and above-average height, dressed plainly in black. Her dark hair had been cropped close to her head and the effect was one of unconcern with her appearance. She wore multiple armbands, ten on each arm, set with mini-screens and remote control buttons for the different kinds of terminals around the room. Sharp, brown eyes regarded him from a fierce, birdlike face.

“Come in,” she ordered. “Tell me what you want.”

“Are you the Countess?” Wraith asked.

“I am.”

“I need your help.”

“So you said.” The Countess frowned impatiently. “What is it you want?”

“I'm trying to find someone in the city,” Wraith said quickly. “A girl, about eleven years old. She hasn't shown up on any of the computer nets yet.”

“How do you know?” the fixer asked sharply, her eyes sweeping over him appraisingly. “You're no hacker.”

“I'm here with my sister,” Wraith admitted. “She's the hacker.”

“A physical search will take time,” the Countess told him. “But I can use some contacts if you can give me some more info on the girl.” She crossed to one of her terminals.

“Her name's Rachel,” Wraith told her. “She's my younger sister. I haven't seen her for two years. Rachel was living with adoptive parents when they took off with her. They haven't contacted us since but I heard news they were in London.”

“Are you planning a retrieval operation?” the Countess asked. “To get the girl back?”

“No.” Wraith shook his head. “I just want to know if she's OK.”

“All right.” The fixer nodded. “I'll need all the information you have on her and on the couple who adopted her. Names, pictures, bio details, the works.”

“Right.” Wraith pulled out an unmarked computer disk from his bag and passed it to the fixer. She slotted it into the machine and Wraith watched as a blur of details flickered across the screen. When the transfer of information had been completed the fixer tapped a few keys to bring up Rachel's image.

“I'll have this sent out to some contacts,” she told him. “That way we should find out something. But it's strange that the girl doesn't appear on the net. There should at least be school records.”

“Yeah,” Wraith agreed. His gaze was fixed on the picture. Rachel looked like any other kid: brown hair in a neat bob, big shining brown eyes, and a crooked grin. But Wraith knew it was crucial that he find her, and not just because she was his sister.

“When I've had some initial reports in we can decide whether or not to hire some people to search more actively,” the Countess told him. “That should be in a few days. But I'll need a basic fee now.”

“How much?”

“Five hundred,” the fixer told him and Wraith nodded. The price might be a little high, but he needed the Countess's support more than he needed to haggle over money.

“OK,” he agreed and reached for a cred card.

•  •  •

It had taken Kez two minutes to get into the flitter. He hadn't been able to catch sight of the owner's code but the flitter was an old model and it was easy to force the hatch open. It was done before the guard further down the walkway had noticed anything untoward—and there was nothing suspicious about Kez getting into the flitter when he had arrived in it. Once inside the boy cast a practiced eye over the controls. The white-haired guy had operated it clumsily but Kez had driven this kind of craft many times before. He powered up the main drive and watched with satisfaction as the control panel lit up. Then he frowned. The console's view screen was fizzing strangely although it had been working normally on the way to the fixer's building. He punched a few buttons to get an image but nothing worked. Shrugging, he decided to take the flitter up without the screen; the front window showed enough without it. He reached for the controls and froze as a voice rang out of the speakers.

“If you're serious about stealing this flitter, prepare for the ride of your life.”

“What?” Kez looked around quickly but there was no room for anyone to hide in the tiny craft. “Who is that?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”
the voice came back at him. It was a girl's voice and she was laughing. Kez sneered.

“Whoever you are, you ain't gonna do nothing on the other side of a com channel,” he told it and grabbed the controls. The flitter lifted off the bridge smoothly and then Kez was thrown back in his seat as it leaped forward into the air. He was no longer holding the controls but the flitter swept easily past the buildings, faster than he'd ever seen one move before. Laughter was ringing in his ears and the voice spoke through it.

“But I'm not on the other side of a com channel,”
it said and the flitter went into a wild spin. Kez clung to the sides of his seat, clutching for the safety harness as he was whipped around by the gyrations of the craft. Once he had the clasps snapped in place he grabbed the controls again, but the entire panel was dead. He let go, recognizing the futility of the attempt, as the flitter came out of its spin and streaked upward through the city's levels. It was the fastest ride Kez had ever taken and to his surprise he found himself enjoying it. He whooped in delight as he sped past the hazards of the metropolis.

Then a siren went off, and, looking back, Kez saw two flitters start in pursuit.

“Seccies,” he warned automatically.

“I see them,”
the voice told him and the flitter dived. The screen sprang into life to display the back view from the craft and Kez watched as within seconds the Security Services vehicles were left behind. As soon as they were out of sight the flitter assumed a more usual speed as it coasted through the city.

“That was wild.” The boy grinned. “I ain't never seen driving like that.”

“Thank you,”
his companion replied, and suddenly a girl's face appeared on the screen. She was older than him, about fifteen, with a fierce grin. She bent her head in a mocking bow as Kez stared.

“You really are something,” Kez said, impressed.

“Of course,”
she replied.

“But if you're controlling this hunk of junk, where are you?” he asked suspiciously. “It's impossible. No one can do that. It's like magic.” Then he tensed. “You're not some kind of freak, are you?” The screen fizzed and the image disappeared abruptly. The flitter touched down on one of the walkways and the driver's door hissed open, obviously a sign for him to leave.

Kez realized he had made a mistake. He looked out into the night. He wasn't far from his usual patch and it wouldn't take him long to get back there. But something about the mysterious ghostlike stranger and now this other ghost in the machine had caught his imagination. He stayed firmly in his seat.

“Hey, calm down,” he told the fizzing screen, hoping no one would pass and see him talking to a flitter. “I didn't mean to offend you, but I never met a Hex before.”

“Are you intending to broadcast the information to the entire neighborhood?”
the girl's voice asked coldly, her words a confirmation of his suspicions.

“You opened the door, not me,” Kez reminded her. The door stayed open and he looked hopefully at the screen. “Why don't we start this whole thing again?” he offered. “I'm Kez,” he said leaning toward the screen hopefully. The door slid shut and after a moment the screen came to life again.

“I'm Raven,”
the girl told him, as the flitter took off.
“The guy you were about to steal this flitter from is my brother, Wraith.”

“I wouldn't have got much for it.” Kez shrugged. “It's a real old model.”

“Wraith won't be too pleased about you trying to steal it at all,”
Raven said.
“Especially after he gave you nearly a hundred credits.”

“Could you maybe not tell him?” the boy suggested.

“Maybe.”
Raven grinned.
“Since you survived the ride.”
She winked at him.
“But don't try to cheat him again, OK?”

“Sure thing,” Kez agreed as the flitter touched down in the same spot it had occupied before. “Hey, Raven, when do I get to meet you in person?”

“Tonight, if you can find Wraith a safe place to stay,”
she told him as the door opened again. Kez got ready to get out, but Raven's voice called him back.
“And, Kez, don't tell him anything about this. That I spoke to you, or that you know what I am, OK?”

“I scan.” Kez saluted the screen and Raven winked again before her image dissolved. Kez sat grinning back at the screen until he realized he had better get out of the flitter before Wraith got back.