No Going Back (23 page)

I interrupted him. “Okay. How quickly can you get this to me, and how can we find him?”

“For the compound,” Lobo said, “four hours, maybe a little faster. It’ll take that long for me to run a counter-surveillance route and land us back in York. He lives in York, so right now, because he’s local help, he’s sleeping at his apartment. You’ll have to get it into his body, which means catching him while he’s out or breaking into his apartment.”

I disliked what I was about to do to this man, but I saw no other option. If Jennie might even possibly be at Schmidt’s, or if I could save Omani’s life with whatever was there, I was willing to make him sick and put him out of work for a few weeks. I’d pay him a great deal for his trouble, which would never give him back the time but would at least get him more money than the tour would have paid. I knew it was wrong to rank Jennie or Omani over him, but as much as I hated it, I couldn’t think of another way I could get onto Schmidt’s estate.

“Can you think of any other solution,” I said, “either to joining Passion’s road crew or to infiltrating Schmidt’s estate?”

“None that aren’t far riskier and far more destructive than this one,” Lobo said.

“Neither can I,” I said. “Make the serum, and take us to York.”

CHAPTER 29

Jon Moore

H
is name was Ramon Lee, and from what Lobo told me as he flew me to the public landing area nearest the man’s apartment, he was just another guy trying to make a living and follow some dreams. He’d inherited the ship when his father had moved on to a different line of work, so he’d drifted into providing transportation for anyone who would hire him. He worked mostly through the one agency, though as best Lobo could tell from maintenance records he found, the man also moonlighted a bit.

Music was his passion. He played multiple instruments, all of them old and non-electronic. He wrote songs. He submitted long, passionate commentaries to multiple feeds, and he’d developed a small but loyal following for those pieces. He adored Passion and her music. When he’d heard she’d be touring on Haven, he’d offered his transportation services both through the agency and directly.

I learned all this and more out of guilt. I knew that’s what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve provided safe courier services for packages and people at high prices and asked fewer questions, but I couldn’t get over the sense that I was doing the wrong thing here. I suppose part of me hoped that I’d find something that would make me feel better about what I was going to do, some bit of darkness in the man, something to justify the punishment I was about to mete out to him, but I didn’t.

I’d caused a lot of trouble for the caterer I’d set up on Studio, but I could barely remember his name. I wondered why this time was so very different. Maybe the sheer amount of time I’d be incapacitating Ramon Lee was what made this so hard, but that didn’t feel right either.

I’ve always questioned myself about my choices, turned them over and over in my mind, because I think that’s proper and fitting. Acting on instinct alone is more efficient, and I certainly do that in situations that demand it, but a big part of our humanity comes from our willingness to examine our actions. I didn’t want to lose that. When you don’t age and you can’t tell anyone anything important about yourself, when you can’t even conceive of a permanent relationship with another human, you start to question your own humanity. I needed to hold onto mine tightly.

“Touching down in two minutes,” Lobo said. “I’m coming in this time as a medical supply ship and you as a medtech, so keep that in mind in case someone talks to you. If this works out, we’re going to end up spending almost three weeks on a planet where two of the most powerful families in all the worlds are looking for you, so I don’t want to linger long enough on this run for anyone to notice me.”

I grabbed the serum, the comm, and a wallet set to another identity Lobo had built. This one wouldn’t last until the end of the day under close scrutiny, but all I needed from it was some money. “Ready.”

“Will you stay on comm this time,” Lobo said, “or do you and Ramon have some secrets I shouldn’t share?”

I chuckled. “You’re safe on that front,” I said. “I’ll be on the comm. Track me, and tell me where to go when I say I’m done.”

Lobo opened a hatch in his side.

I stepped out onto the permacrete. A group of four men and three women were walking together about twenty meters to my left, maybe heading to an early lunch. I angled to my right, away from them and toward the nearest exit in that direction. I wore another costume, a pair of gray work pants, a black shirt, and work boots I’d scuffed as I dressed. I couldn’t afford to be memorable, and I was heading into a working class area.

Ramon Lee lived four kilometers away. A taxi would get me there quicker, but if for any reason the police decided to investigate his illness, they’d check all transportation records for people in the neighborhood. It was risky enough that I had to get close to him; leaving a trail was out of the question. So I walked as quickly as I thought I could without attracting attention, a near running pace when I found myself alone on a block, and a quick walk the rest of the time.

When I was half a kilometer away, Lobo said over the comm, “He’s left his apartment.”

Crap. I couldn’t afford the time to chase him all over town. “Where should I head?”

“Slow down,” Lobo said. “He’s coming your way.”

Excellent. I slowed to a leisurely walk and looked around, a man with no cares in the world.

From what I saw when I looked closely, that might be the wrong attitude for this neighborhood.

The buildings were short and dirty, permacrete structures sunken into themselves like very old men after a long day of physical work. Warehouses stood side-by-side with residences. The first floors of a few buildings were bars; they all advertised food specials with signs that hadn’t changed in so long you could barely read them.

“Look up,” Lobo said. “He’s on the opposite side of the street from you.”

I recognized him from the few images Lobo had been able to find of him. With short, curly black hair, olive skin, and a wide, flat face, he wasn’t handsome, but his large, quick eyes made him memorable. I doubted the top of his head would reach my chin, but his shoulders were broader than mine.

About ten meters before we would have drawn parallel to one another, he turned into a bar, Hobbers, and vanished from view. I stopped for a second to consult my comm, as if something important that I had to read had just arrived. Two couples turned the corner nearest to Hobbers and followed Lee inside it. That was good. The more popular it was, the less likely it was that anyone would notice me.

“He must be going to eat,” I said. “I’m going in.”

“It’s less risky to wait,” Lobo said.

“Unless he stays a long time. We need him out of commission as soon as possible, so you can make sure his agency hears about it immediately, tells Passion’s crew, and they start searching for a replacement.”

“True,” Lobo said. “Once you’re inside, if you find that you six are the only people in the place—there’s too much heat radiating out of it for me to get a clear thermal image—get out and wait. Otherwise, it’s worth a shot. Remember, though, that once you administer it to him, you have only five minutes before he starts developing symptoms and feeling sick. I couldn’t delay the concoction any further.”

“Will do.”

I crossed the street, stepped through the open doorway, and walked inside Hobbers. The inside was a great deal dimmer and a little bit cooler than outside. Tables lined the right wall, with a small wall at the end of them creating a service space behind them. A bar ran the full length of the left wall. A huge aquarium ran the length of the wall behind the bar. It started at the height of the bar and extended upward a meter and a half. Smaller aquariums were built into the opposite wall as well, each starting at the same vertical position as the one behind the bar and also its height, but each of them was only a meter wide. The tables were positioned so each one was between a pair of the aquariums. A great many different creatures swam in the tanks. Most were fish of many different shapes and colors, some large and plain, others smaller and very brightly colored. Modified animals—cats and dogs with gills, eels with legs, and several varieties of rodents with both fins and feet—also occupied areas in the tanks.

I didn’t see Lee or any of the people who had entered after him.

Two men were working the bar, but both stood at the far end talking with a tall, thin, pale woman with brown hair that hung straight down her back almost to her knees. She was pointing at the tank. In front of her, a modified basset hound pulled itself up the tank’s glass by a set of long, fur-covered tentacles. Its long ears floated beside its head. Its large, brown eyes stared sorrowfully at her as it licked the glass.

“The octobasset is not for sale,” the farther bartender said.

“Nonsense,” the woman said. “Everything is for sale. It’s so beautifully...” she paused, “tentacular. I simply must have it.”

The nearer bartender noticed me and moved up the bar until he was standing opposite me. “First time?” he said.

I forced a smile and nodded.

“Do you want a drink, are you looking for the restaurant, or maybe,” he tilted his head toward the woman across from him, “are you also here to try to buy something from one of our tanks?”

“Restaurant,” I said.

He tilted his head toward the wall at the end of the bar. “Take a right after the little wall, go through the metal door you’ll see on your left, and you’ll be there.” He stared at me for a moment. “What brought you here?”

I’d noticed one of the never-changed special signs out front, but I’d stupidly forgotten to read it. “The special.”

It was his turn to nod. “Thought so. Word spreads. It’s good, don’t get me wrong, but if you want my opinion, go for the meat and beans. You never know what the meat will be, but it’s tasty every time, and the meal will stay with you all day.”

“Thanks,” I said. I walked toward the rear of the bar.

“Don’t tell ’em I said that,” he whispered as I walked past him. “I think they make a little more money on the special.”

“You bet,” I said.

A hinged thin metal door marked the entrance to the restaurant. I pushed it open and stepped in. Long, meter-wide metal strips covered all the walls. In a wide, open area in the corner opposite where I stood, a woman took orders, and two men served food. Three long bench-style tables ran in rows across the restaurant. There was enough room to walk between the benches when they were occupied, but just barely. The tables were already a quarter full.

As I stood staring, two more people entered behind me. Before they could cut around me, I stepped to the order window. The woman taking the orders was heavyset with short curly gray hair, muscular arms, and deep brown skin.

“You gonna order or just admire me all day?” she said.

“Meat and beans,” I said, “and a juice.”

“What size meat and beans,” she said, “what size juice, and what type?”

“I’m hungry,” I said, as I realized that I was and was getting more so, because the smells in here were incredible. “You tell me.”

She cocked her head for a moment, then jabbed something on the screen on the counter in front of her. I paid and stepped to my right.

A few seconds later, the man on her left handed me a large metal plate and a tall metal cup. He tilted his head toward a table that stood a meter more to my right. I collected silverware there and scanned the tables. Ramon Lee sat alone at the end of the table farthest from me. Less than a meter away on his left, two of the foursome I’d seen entering the place were already eating. The space opposite Lee was empty, so I walked over to it.

“Mind if I sit here?” I said.

Both he and the closest person on my right shook their heads.

I sat and for the first time checked out my plate’s contents. A huge pile of mixed black beans and chunks of meat, both in a thick dark sauce the same color as the beans, sat next to a large pile of some kind of cream-colored grain.

“Good choice,” Lee said.

He was eating the same thing, though a much smaller portion.

“First time here, right?” he said. “And Ashtok at the bar told you to order it?”

I smiled and nodded. “Right both times.” I took a bite with a few beans, a chunk of meat, and a bit of the grain. It was delicious, rich and strong with a more complex blend of flavors than I had expected. “Wow, that’s great.”

“It is, right?” he said. “I’m Ramon.”

“Balin,” I said. He’d be unconscious the whole time I was replacing him, but there was no point in leaving any name he could trace to me.

“Ashtok tell you to get the large?” he said.

I shook my head. “That was my fault. I told her I was hungry.”

He smiled and nodded his head. “She’ll do that if you let her. She owns the place, you know.”

“I did not,” I said around a mouthful of food.

“Tough as an armored hull,” he said. “She’ll be working here two weeks after she’s dead.”

I chuckled but kept eating. He was ahead of me, and I needed to be ready to leave when he did.

“You
were
hungry,” he said.

I nodded as I took another bite. When I finished chewing, I said, “Plus, it’s been a while since I ate anything this good.”

We ate in silence then, me rushing and him eating at a more reasonable pace.

I finished a few bites ahead of him, sat up straight, and stretched. I was so full my stomach was stretched tight. I put my arms down and leaned forward. “Not for now, but for next time, because you seem to know your way around here: If I had room for dessert, are there any worth having?” As I spoke, I pulled the serum from my right front pants pocket and palmed it. The injector would work through clothing, but he was going to feel it as a small prick; there was no way around that.

“All three of them,” he said. “You can’t go wrong.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said.

“Plates and cups go in the bins behind me,” he said.