Offspring (21 page)

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Authors: Steven Harper

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Offspring
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Amateurs
, Lucia thought with scorn.
I’d never leave this kind of evidence in my own house
.

The house’s sour smell was stronger in this room—much stronger. She expected bowel smells in a bathroom, but Lucia had been in the house for quite some time and the odor was noticeably fresh. Lucia’s eye fell on the shower curtain. It was drawn shut. A terrible suspicion crawled over her skin like a thousand spiders. Lucia swallowed, then reached out with a gloved hand and snapped the shower curtain aside.

Helen Day’s corpse lay face-up in the bottom of the tub. She stared upward with blank, filmy eyes, and her skin was gray. Brown hair was plastered to her skull in wet clumps. A bright burn mark the size of a fist lay between her flaccid breasts. Lucia pressed a hand to her mouth.

Serene must you ever remain. Serene must you ever remain. Serene, serene, serene
.

Bile pressed the back of her throat in a harsh lump. Lucia slid the curtain shut, snatched up the money sack, and dashed upstairs. She paused at the entrance to Finn’s room, the one with the light on. After a split-second’s hesitation, she poked her head inside.

The walls in Finn’s bedroom were covered with color prints of abstract art. Eye-twisting designs swooped, spiraled, and spun across paper and canvas. Sprawled on the floor lay the form of a brown-haired man. Lucia ran inside just long enough to touch his neck. Her shaking fingers found no pulse. The body was still warm.

Lucia’s mind raced, and the clues she had been too stupid to see snapped into a complete picture. The deactivated alarm. The sour smell. The warm chair. The missing file. The alarm had been deactivated because the Days were home. The killer had probably knocked at the door, or had perhaps even simply walked into the house uninvited. He or she had killed Helen in the shower—the burn mark reminded Lucia of a neuro-pistol discharge—and had then gone upstairs to wreak the same fate on Finn in his bedroom. Once the Finns were out of the way, the killer had sat at the computer and deleted the file on Ben’s siblings. Unfortunately, Lucia had broken in at that point, and the killer had been forced to flee. Lucia swallowed, remembering the body heat left in the chair, the heat of a murderer. And she hadn’t even realized it.

Lucia had to get out of the house. If she were caught now, the charge would be far worse than simple breaking-and-entering. She ran into Helen’s darkened bedroom, tossed the sack out onto the roof, and pressed her gloved palm to the pane of glass on the floor. It stuck to her hand. Her heart was pounding and every instinct screamed at her to run far and fast, but she climbed out the window backwards and with great care, fitting the glass back into the hole behind her. Once it was back in place, she took a stylus from her belt and ran it around the edge of the pane. The stylus secreted an epoxy that heated the glass and melded it back together. A close look would reveal something wasn’t quite right, but only if someone looked. Lucia wondered if anyone would. Once the bodies were discovered and the police called in, the house would become a crime scene crawling with technicians. Thanks be to Irfan she'd worn her camouflage suit and prevented herself from leaving any telltale traces of DN”.

She ran across the rooftop on shaky legs and dropped to the balcony behind it. Then she eased over the rail and dropped straight down. There was a dreadful moment when she was falling, then the stretchy polymer netting caught her. Lucia scuttled like a spider along the safety net, staying in the shadows and out of sight beneath the walkways until she judged she was far enough away from the Day house. Footsteps sounded overhead, and for a horrible moment Lucia was sure someone—the killer?—was following her. She froze, and the footsteps continued along the walkway. When she was sure the coast was clear, she hauled herself back onto the wooden path, stripped off gloves and mask, and changed her jumpsuit into a nondescript blue. She jogged a little further along the dark and swaying walkways.

Treetown had become a frightening place at night, dark and eerie. Most residents rented their home fusion generators from Treetown Energy, and the rent was determined by the amount of power each plant produced—more power meant more upkeep, or so Treetown Energy claimed. In times of privation people used fewer lights. Treetown itself had cut back on the number of lamps it left burning. Lucia walked the dark paths and long balconies, trying not to feel threatened. A dinosaur roared far below, and she jumped, heart pounding. She passed dark houses that stared at her with Helen Day’s glassy eyes, and every time she turned a corner, she wondered if anyone would be—

“Spare a freemark, lady?”

Lucia leaped back, her hand already going for the knife she kept in her belt. The human who had accosted her stood in a shadowy stairwell. The moonlight revealed scruffy hair and a dirty coat. Her upturned palm was grubby, and she smelled of old sweat. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen.

Heart still pounding, Lucia flipped the girl a coin. She caught it with a quick snapping motion. Lucia said, “Have you tried the Church of Irfan? There’s a mission not far from here. They can give you good a meal and a place to sleep.”

“They’re full up tonight,” the girl said. “They’re always full up. You got somewhere I can sleep?”

Lucia’s heart wrenched. She wanted to take this young woman home with her, clean her up, feed her, give her hope. But Lucia knew that would be foolish in the extreme. She had no idea who this girl was or what she might do once Lucia got her home. It was this way all over Bellerophon, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it, except continue to volunteer at the Church. She made a mental note to put in extra hours this week.

“Sorry,” Lucia said, and flipped the girl another freemark coin. Then she turned and trotted away before she could respond. The girl’s image stuck with her, though. What would it be like to spend your nights on the walkways, worried you could be mugged or raped or murdered for your shoes? Lucia, at least, had places to go. Despite Ben and Kendi’s advance on her detective services, Lucia had decided to continue living with her family and pay them the rent she would have put toward an apartment. Mom and Dad had at first refused her offer, then had given in after minimal persuasion. In addition to her family, Lucia knew she could go to Ben and Kendi for help. Lucia had many resources. That girl had none. There had to be a way to help her and others like her. She couldn’t—

Pain exploded across the back of her head. With a small cry, Lucia slumped to walkway.

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“It’s narrow thinking to see the customs and manners of other people as ridiculous and extravagant when they don’t resemble our own “

—Daniel Vik

 

 

“The newsfeeds are already calling us
Tapers
,” Kendi said with a laugh. “It’s become a nickname for the Unionist party.”

“What does Grandma think of that?” Ben asked.

“Dunno. I left the party before she could explode again. It was all over the feeds on the ride home, though.” Kendi picked up his data pad, the one he had left home by accident, and fiddled with it idly. “Grandma gets seriously scary when she’s pissed off.”

Ben shifted on the living room sofa. His posture held him inward and upright, as if he were balanced on the head of pin. Kendi wondered if he should ask what was wrong or let Ben come around to telling him.

“Grandma didn’t always used to be like that,” Ben said. “But then there was the Despair, and Mom’s...death. I don’t think she’s taking it well—being Silenced, I mean. She never wanted anything to do with politics before the Despair, and then she sort of threw herself into it.”

“Coping mechanism?” Kendi asked, setting down the pad.

“Maybe.” Ben shifted again and glanced toward the door. Kendi decided to go for it.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You’re nervous about something.”

“What makes you think I’m nervous?”

“Just say it, Ben,” Kendi said. “It’s been a long night, and I don’t think I can—”

“Attention! Attention!” boomed the computer. “Emergency message for Ben Rymar. Playing now.”

“What the hell?” Kendi said.

“Shush!” Ben snapped.


Ben! Help me! I can’t...stand up. I’m about...about fifty meters from the house. Southwest, I think. Can you...can you come?

Ben and Kendi were out the door before the message finished. Kendi almost crashed into Lars the bodyguard, who was on patrol outside the house for the night. The drawbridges on both walkways and staircases were up, further blocking their path.

“Come with us!” Kendi ordered Lars. “Friend in trouble.”

“Lucia!” Ben shouted. He slapped the scanner set into the balcony rail. “Lucia, can you hear us? Dammit, open sesame!”

The drawbridge ahead of him lowered itself. Ben sprinted across before it was completely level. Kendi and Lars followed, also shouting Lucia’s name. The darkness swallowed their voices, and dark houses glared accusingly at the way they shattered the peaceful night. Kendi’s nerves hummed like high-tension wires. His active imagination foresaw a dozen terrible things that could have happened to her. Ben ran beside him, his footsteps thudding on wood. Bulky Lars brought up the rear.

They found her struggling to stand in a puddle of moonlight. Ben sprinted ahead of Kendi and picked her up as if her lush body weighed nothing at all.

“Lie still,” he instructed. “We’ll get you home and call the rescue squad.”

“What happened?” Kendi asked. “Can you talk?’

“I’ll be all right,” Lucia said, though her speech was slurred. “Don’t call the squad. Please. I’ll have to explain my outfit.”

Belatedly Kendi realized she was wearing her camouflage jumpsuit. He tapped his earpiece. “I’ll call Harenn, then.”

“And no Guardians!” Ben said to Lars before the bodyguard could speak. “Let’s get back.”

He carried Lucia back to the house with Lars and Kendi trailing behind. Lucia held on as best she could, but it was clear she was in pain. Kendi looked for blood as they ran, but the moonlight made it impossible to see clearly. When they got back home, Ben laid her down on the couch. Harenn arrived moments later in a breathless swirl of billowing cloth. She had her medical scanner out and in motion before anyone could speak to her.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“I was hit from behind,” Lucia said. “A mugger, I think. Mother Irfan, my head hurts.”

“You have a concussion.” Harenn removed a dermospray from her kit, racked in an ampule, and thumped it against Lucia’s arm. “This will ease the pain and the dizziness. You should remain quiet for the rest of the evening and for tomorrow. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed the night here.”

“Lars,” Kendi said suddenly, “this is private business. Go back outside, please.”

Lars drew down bushy blond eyebrows and looked ready to argue. Kendi, however, leveled him a hard look he had learned from Ara and the younger man retreated without further discussion.

“Details, Lucia,” Kendi said. “Start from the beginning.”

“I—I’m not sure if—” she stammered.

“It’s okay, Lucia,” Ben said. “Go ahead and tell them.”

Kendi glared at him. “You’ve been up to something behind my back.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Ben said. “Tell him, Lucia.”

Lucia did. Kendi listened, open-mouthed, as she described breaking into the Day house, finding the file, discovering two dead bodies, and getting hit on the head.

“Everything becomes disjointed after that,” she finished. “I remember trying to send an emergency message to Ben. The next thing I knew he was picking me up off the walkway.”

“What if the Guardians do a DN” sweep?” Kendi asked. “Won’t they find out you were there?”

“The suit and mask prevent DN” leavings,” Lucia said. “Besides, DN” sweeps are ungodly expensive. The Guardians only use them in truly high-powered cases.”

“Speaking of expensive,” Harenn said, “where is the money sack? You said you found it.”

Lucia looked around, as if she expected to find it on the floor beside the couch. “I don’t know. I must have dropped it. Or the mugger took it.”

“I’ll go look for it,” Ben said, heading for the door.

“Take Lars with you,” Kendi called after him.

“So someone broke into the Days’ house just before you did,” Kendi said. “Whoever it was killed the Days, found the file about Ben, and started to delete it, but you showed up before they could finish the job. Do you think the killer was the person who mugged you?”

“I don’t see how it could be,” Lucia said. “I traveled quite a ways on the safety net before I came back up, and I didn’t see anyone following me. I’m trained at spotting a tail, even at night, and I’m sure I would’ve noticed something. Besides, if the killer
did
mug me, why just hit me instead of kill me?”

Kendi rubbed his temples. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s the disk?” Harenn asked.

Lucia fumbled in one pocket. A frightened look came over her face and she quickly checked her other pockets. “It’s gone,” she said.

“Oh, shit,” Kendi groaned. “Why didn’t you wipe the disk when you released the file?”

“Ben wanted the file,” Lucia said. “He thought he could take them to the Guardians as proof.”

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