Dead Man on the Moon (19 page)

"Don't you let any drop," Mom had said. "You stay on the balcony to make sure they stay."

Linus took the heavy throw rugs to the balcony, already plotting how long it would be before he could beg off to play at Tim Napoli's apartment. Tim's dad drank and hit a lot, but felt guilty about it afterward. The latest slap-fest had resulted in a new sim-game suite. Tim had said Linus could try it out, and Linus was dying to see how many zombies he could kill in Death Spree IV. Outside, gray clouds hung low in the March sky, and the air carried a snip of winter yet. Linus lugged the heavy rugs out to the small wrought-iron balcony and carefully draped them over the rail, taking care to ensure more rug hung over the near side so it wouldn't slip over the far side. The tiny apartment Linus shared with his parents and sister was on the tenth floor, halfway up the building. He was long accustomed to the dizzying drop and scarcely gave it a glance.

A noise caught his attention and he glanced up. On the balcony above, Gina Belle, two years older than Linus, was setting out rugs of her own. He waved to her, but she didn't pay attention. She flung her rugs carelessly across the railing and vanished back inside.

Linus's last rug was scarcely in place when a shadow dropped down from above with a faint rushing sound. One of Gina's rugs had fallen. It rushed past Linus's carefully positioned rugs and swept one off the rail. Linus lunged, but he wasn't quick enough. Both rugs dropped away and fluttered to the concrete far below like a pair of wounded kites. They landed in a puddle of slush. Even as Linus watched, someone dashed over, snatched them up, and ran off. They hadn't been on the ground for more than a few seconds.

Dread clutched Linus's stomach. The rugs were all handmade, woven from old towels and old clothes. Mom had spent hours on each one. Now he had to go tell her what
had happened. He knew it wouldn't matter that Gina had been the careless one, that it was her fault. Mom would tell him he should have been paying closer attention, that it didn't matter what other people did. He could only control himself. Tears welled in eyes. He might be able to duck out and run up the hall to Tim's apartment. But what good would that do? Mom would find him soon enough, and he wouldn't be able to enjoy killing zombies with her hanging over his head like a hawk ready to dive on a field mouse. Swallowing hard, he trudged back inside to face the music.

The link chimed a third time. Linus forced himself to tap his desk and accept the call. Face the music. Mayor-President Ravi Pandey appeared on the display.

'T was preparing an update for you, Ms. Pandey," he said. "Though I'm afraid it doesn't say much more. I've sent copies of the victim's likeness to the vid-feeds, and we're hoping someone will call with an identification, but not much else has happened."

"So you haven t found either killer yet,"
Pandey said. She paused, clearly waiting for a response to her rhetorical statement. Linus gritted his teeth and gave it.

"We're still investigating."

"Tomorrow morning the next shuttle lands,"
Pandey said.
"On it will be the representatives of both entertainment companies. The ones we are desperately trying to court, Chief Pavlik. Talks and negotiations are scheduled to begin two days after that
—
plenty of time for them to learn that Luna City's famous low crime rate has climbed sharply."

"With all due respect, Mayor-President," Linus said, "it's only been a few hours since we last talked. It's unreasonable to expect results so—"

"It's unreasonable to expect China and the European Union to forgive us our debts,"
Pandey interrupted.
"It's unreasonable to expect our genetics people to modify fruit trees so they grow Euros instead of oranges. It's quite reasonable for me to expect my Security people to solve a crime once in a while. Or am I wrong?"

"We're still gathering evidence, madam," Linus said, masking his rising temper behind icy civility. "And the more time I spend at my desk, the less time I have to analyze it."

Pandey closed her eyes and took a deep breath, apparently trying to contain her own temper.
"We need those contract talks to go smoothly, Chief. We need that money, we need that housing, we need those facilities. If these companies back out, Luna City may well go bankrupt, and we'll all be Earthside. And I do mean
all
of us."

The veiled threat was not lost on Linus. He realized he was rubbing his chest, and he forced himself to stop. "We're doing everything possible. Is there anything else, Mayor-President?"

It was as close to dismissing a superior as Linus dared come. Pandey accepted the remark with a simple shake of her head and terminated the connection.

Linus sat back in his squeaky chair and realized he was suddenly exhausted. He checked the time and was startled to realize it was well after eleven o'clock. He had thought about going down to the lab and going over the vacuum victim's clothes, but now ... exhaustion and stubborn pride decided it was time to go home.

He was halfway there before he remembered he hadn't yet talked to Noah Skyler.

It was next morning. Linus set his face into a neutral expression before telling Noah to come in. The kid entered the office, carrying a lidded coffee mug and looking vaguely distracted. He sat down at Linus's invitation and put the mug on the floor. Coffee-scented steam wafted from under the lid of the mug.

"What's up, Chief?" Noah asked. "I barely had time to finish breakfast."

Linus gave a mental sigh. Times like this he really hated his job. His hands were even sweating, and he was forced to fold them carefully in his lap. The cold mountain stream continued its holographic burble on his office wall.

"A potential problem has come to my attention," he said, deciding to plunge right in. "It involves you, and I need to investigate."

Noah's face went rigid. "Okay. Should I have some kind of advocate here?"

'That's your right," Linus said. "Why don't I tell you what's going on and you can decide if you need someone here?"

"Fine." The kid's tone was flat, completely without inflection. Quickly and crisply, he told Noah what Gary New-burg had said about the footprint casting and Noah's attitude. Noah sat without movement or expression, and Linus found himself looking for a clue to his mood. He got nothing. Noah didn't blink, didn't twitch, didn't flush. Linus could have been talking to a rock.

"Do you have a response?" he asked when the story was over.

"Do I need one?" Noah said.

"You have three choices. You can either refuse to respond, wait until you have an advocate who can respond for you, or you can respond."

"And what will happen in each case?"

"If you respond or have an advocate respond for you," Linus said, TT1 weigh your word against Gary's. At worst, you would be given a verbal reprimand and I would put a note in your file."

"A verbal reprimand that got written down, in other words," Noah said. The sarcasm was the first hint of emotion Linus had seen in him.

"Yes. If you don't respond, or if your advocate tells you not to respond, then I will have to act on what Gary tells me and nothing else. I'll try to find out more from other sources as well, if I can find any." Linus paused. "What do you want to do?"

"I need to respond to tell you if I'm not responding," Noah said, the sarcasm rising again.

"Is that where you want to take this?" Linus asked.

"Not necessarily I just thought I'd point that out, along with the verbal reprimand that gets written down."

"I should probably tell you," Linus said slowly, "that your tone lends credence to Gary's version of events."

"How can it when I haven't told you what happened?"

"Do you want to tell me?"

"I want to tell you," Noah said, "but there's no way to do it without making me look bad."

Linus tried to inject a fatherly tone into his voice. It was a trick he'd often used with youthful offenders, and it worked surprisingly often. "What do you mean, son?"

"I mean that if I tell you what happened out there, it'll look like I'm covering my own ass instead of telling the truth." Noah continued to sit rigid in his chair, ignoring the coffee mug at his feet.

"Try me," Linus said. "Look, Noah, we aren't so formal up here. True, we have two advocates for situations like this, but most of the time we're able to clear this kind of stuff up without resorting to legal maneuvering. If you have something to say, just say it."

Noah paused for a long moment. Linus tried to read his expression, see if he was using the time to fabricate a lie or simply word the truth.

"Gary told the truth," Noah said at last, "except he traded around what happened.
I
noticed that
he
didn't get a holographic image of the footprint he was about to cast, and
I
stopped
him
from walking across the drag mark. I was perfectly polite to him about it—like you said, we all make mistakes—but he just snarled at me. Then he left the scene, and I had to take everything in."

"I don't suppose you recorded the conversation," Linus said slowly.

"Why should I have? Gary was a jerk to me, but he didn't threaten or anything."

Linus scratched his head. Mirror-image stories, and no way to tell which was the real one. Great. He-said, he-said.

He decided to try a shot in the dark, try to catch Noah off-guard. "So how'd that roommate problem go down yesterday?"

Noah waved a hand dismissively. "I cleaned up and talked to my other roommate about it. I decided it was no big deal after all, just like you said."

A carefully concocted response, or the simple truth? Linus found he still couldn't read Noah's expression or tone. If the kid was lying, he was a natural.

He was also a performer—an actor. Was all this an act? Linus found his mind running in circles and gave himself a mental shake. He was reading too much into the situation.

"All right," Linus said. "There isn't really enough information here for me to act on, so I think we'll just let this one drop unless more evidence comes up. Good?"

A flicker of relief spread over Noah's handsome features. "Good."

Linus got up. "Well, then—how about a nice, brisk bit of investigation to get the morning going?"

Noah bounded out of his chair and almost clocked his head on the ceiling. Linus guided him back to the ground, just missing the mug on the floor. The coffee smell continued to percolate through the room.

"Still getting the hang of this gravity," Noah said, flushing now.

"You'll still stumble," Linus said. "I gave myself a concussion once, even though I'd been here for almost three years at the time."

"Did Dr. Fang treat you?" Noah asked.

"It was how I met her." Linus grinned.

Noah bent to retrieve the coffee mug. He took a sip. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Silence slammed through the chilly room. Linus stared at the kid, and Noah, no dummy, realized he had made a mistake.

"Sorry," he said. "Geez, I—sorry. I really thought you two were—I mean—"

Linus realized his fists were clenched. He relaxed his hands and forced a laugh. "We're good friends, Kid," he said, deliberately using the nickname this time, "and I suppose to a newcomer we might sound like an old married couple, but we aren't seeing each other. Feel free, if you want to make a move."

"Not me." Noah backed away in mock horror. "She cleared me of the bone-breaking thing, but she could be my mother."

"More like your baby-sitter," he corrected just as the door opened and Karen Fang walked in. Linus froze and felt his face flush. Had she heard—?

"Why did the vampire give his girlfriend a blood test?" Noah asked without missing a beat.

"So he could see if she was his type," Karen replied instantly. "That's an
old
one, lad."

"Which is why you've heard of it?" Noah said, wide-eyed.

"Uh oh," Linus said, relieved at the distraction. "I think I'll just duck behind my desk here. Much safer."

"If that's the best material you can come up with, mate, your show is in deep kimchee," Karen shot back.

"I don't need material," Noah said. "I just read the news-feeds before I go on. Gives me everything I need." He paused. "There
is
freedom of speech up here, right? I don't want the Mayor-President cutting off my head or anything."