The Cleanway: Clean Book 2 Page 10

  “You bet,” Rebecca said.

  I unfastened the holster and handed it to her. “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. You’re the one who’s gonna be carrying a gun now.”

  “You did it before.”

  “I know. But it never feels right. Not really.”

  She picked up the revolver, and then slipped it into the holster before replacing the whole thing on the coffee table. She sat down.

  “You could say I’m more comfortable with them.”

  “Because of the sort of work did you do for Yashelia before?”

  “Yes. Jeth.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to do those things again.”

  “Did you kill people?”

  “No,” she said, “Though I still don’t remember my last mission. It must be hidden deeper than the rest.”

  “Hidden?”

  “Yeah.” Rebecca breathed in deep. “Yashelia was hiding it from someone.”

  “Another aeon? Who else could get at her memories in the tree?”

  “Could be,” said Rebecca with a twitch of a smile. “Good thing I didn’t shoot her, I guess. We could still find out.”

  “Glad you see it my way,” I said.

  She patted my hand. “You can be convincing sometimes.”

  My mouth felt dry. I nodded. “That’s me. Convincing.”

  She smiled broadly this time. “Look, I need to go home. Shower. Change. You alright?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess I am.”

  “Good.” She took her hand from mine. “Dinner tonight?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Here?”

  “Probably for the best. Elizabeth and Thomas are going to want to talk to both of us.”

  I nodded. “See you later.”

  She turned and left the apartment.

  I reached out to Elizabeth.

  We connected vocally.

  “Hey, Jeth. It’s been a long weekend.”

  “You can say that again. Do we have anything scheduled tomorrow?”

  “In fact, we are meeting some of the news division. My hope is they can start within the week.”

  “The network is really happening.” I smiled.

  “Thanks to Sarah Harper, and us.” Even the intricate ice-sculpture of Elizabeth’s thoughts seemed warmer for a moment. “And we still need a name.”

  “Any ideas?” I asked. “I mean if we’re planning to start broadcasting so soon.”

  “Funny you should ask. What’s the opposite of dark?”

  “Light?”

  “And darkness?”

  “I’d say brightness.”

  “You ever heard that old expression about what’s done in the dark? It’s been on my mind, thanks to local events.”

  “You’re being coy.”

  “Do you know the expression?”

  “Sure. What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light.”

  “BrightNet, Jeth. We’re going to bring the dark to the light.”

  I smiled, though I knew she couldn’t see me. “I like it, Liz.”

  “Thought you might.”

  “The anticipation almost killed me, though.”

  “Oops, and after all the earlier danger. That would have been sad.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Dinner in the restaurant later?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Look forward to it, partner. Bye.”

  Secure Memory, Anonymous Identity, Animal Monitor Feed

  The three motorcycles formed a V-shape on the high street as they followed it toward the New York Islands. Through the eyes of the gulls winging their way over the rooftops near the shoreline, the team leader watched the bikers drive north. Surreptitiously, blanketed by layers of encryption and distraction drones, she relayed the feed in real-time to Sudhatho’s office.

  The only response was a steady flow of acceptance notes, telling her someone else had the feed in mind.

  If the renegades headed into the northern city, they could strike at the boss’ home garden. Good thing she was on their case. Her gulls kept the three under surveillance for the entire ride until they parked outside a small bar and went inside.

  Soldiers liked to drink, apparently. Too bad for them, stopping made them sitting ducks.

  The team leader was ready to request a purifier team, but then a message came down from the top.

  Let them be. For now, we need to observe.

  Reluctantly, the team leader canceled the request and went back to watching.

  Gulls circled the bar, squawking loud under the darkening gray of the cloudy sky.

  For now, the team leader thought. You three get a stay of execution.

  Unregistered Memory, Elizabeth Ashwood, BrightNet Building

  Elizabeth and Jeth arrived at their network building on Monday morning to meet with their first news-team and then go active. They needed to be there early to tighten things up, though Elizabeth had been conducting interviews all throughout the last two months and felt she already knew most of the people she would be meeting in person for the first time today.

  Management would be a welcome change to the violence and terror of the past weekend.

  She checked the list of people they were to meet with today.

  Dearborne.

  Seneski.

  Mortimer.

  Kander.

  Dubois.

  Huronosha.

  Her thoughts lingered on the last name. Huronosha was a young aeon sent from Harper’s group to ensure BrightNet had a steady supply of ichor. Odd, but soon an aeon, however minor, would be working for Elizabeth. She made a reminder under that name not to treat Huronosha differently. She knew she would need it, thanks to recent events. Aeons could be far too dangerous if they allowed themselves to go mad, yet many people would never know that truth.

  Even so, it would be unfair to punish Huronosha for the secrets all the aeons kept. And apart from fairness, it would be suspicious if Elizabeth went around making enemies of every aeon she met. She stopped shuffling the few papers in her office, then went downstairs to meet the team and set up the first broadcast.

  An ordinary scene unfolded before me, the kind I had hoped for prior to finding Rebecca in the clean market. A network start-up was the kind of ordinary I had aspired to since coming to the city. And there I stood.

  “This is Cindy Dearborne. She’s going to be our main news anchor.” Elizabeth motioned to the striking woman beside her.

  I smiled and shook hands with Cindy. “Good to meet you. I like what I’ve seen of your work.”

  She returned my smile. “Thank you, Mister Gall. I look forward to working with you.”

  What I’d said was true. I had been looking into potential employees here for over a year. Each one had some kind of credits in network broadcasting, news reporting, or administration. Most people might not have recognized these people on the street, but they were the kinds of news people I respected, far more than the overly-polished central broadcasters like Peter Harrison and Carl Willis on the big networks.

  And now they worked for me and Elizabeth.

  Once everyone introduced themselves, we went to the job we all assembled to do.

  What our newsroom lacked in size it made up for in energy. A half-dozen people all jostled verbally to bring the stories they had been following to the fore. I was in charge of picking the stories that first day, and among others, I decided to include one about the clean mobs in the city.

  It surprised me to learn there had been more than the two I personally encountered. Two more sprang up the night we chased Carol and Damien. Obviously, Alan and Miranda had not been idle.

  Everyone took their positions in the main broadcast room. Elizabeth directed the people, while I handled the mental programs and network tools necessary to make everything fit together. We were actually doing it, and I could barely contain my excitement.

  I activated the copy of the network anchor Elizabeth and I had s
pent countless hours building. A network anchor is the core of any broadcast system. The anchor dives deep into the network around it, hence the name, and when it does, it spreads ripples at all levels moving from it and into the wider area. Ripples might sound small, but the more powerful the anchor, the further they go.

  Our anchor was, by far, the strongest I’d ever seen.

  Cindy Dearborne reported for us on a dozen different stories that afternoon, and thanks to our set up, nearly the entire city would be able to tune in. Elizabeth had been handling publicity, so I was confident we’d get some viewers.

  While I maintained the anchor, I could still receive private messages and voice chat. As our first day’s broadcast wound down, Ryan got in touch with me by voice.

  “Jeth, congratulations on the broadcast.”

  “You’ve been watching? Thanks!”

  “Yeah,” he said, “but Rebecca contacted me halfway through. She asked what I learned from Carol after your newscaster reported one of the renegades was in custody.”

  “I’m curious about that myself.”

  “I figured as much. Look, when the broadcast wraps up, you can meet Rebecca and me in the train station south of Banary Park…”

  I met Rebecca and Ryan at the station between the BrightNet building and Lotdel Tower.

  Ryan’s face looked pale and his eyes hollow with dread. He sat beside her where people waited for the train. In the middle of the day, people swarmed around me to board the train as I disembarked.

  Rebecca stood and walked over as I stepped onto the platform. She looked far calmer than Ryan but delayed speaking. I guessed she had her own suspicions about what Ryan had found.

  He nodded to us as we approached him. Then, with apparent effort, he got to his feet. “Follow me,” he said. “We’ll go somewhere quiet.”

  He led us out of the station, and then down the street a few blocks to a laundromat.

  “I thought we were going somewhere quiet?” I said with a smirk.

  “Nobody will hear us in here. It’s pretty empty on Mondays.” He sounded cold, utterly serious.

  The smirk dissolved on my face. “Okay then.”

  Ryan opened the door, and we all went inside.

  “This is serious,” he said, “Carol wasn’t just a soldier for the city. She worked for Sudhatho as an information warrior, courier for sensitive information, and…” Ryan sighed. “She and the other three were involved with assassinations for him.”

  My brows furrowed. “Assassinations? They killed people?”

  “Her memories wouldn’t lie.” He tapped the side of his head. “And I have the sensitive ones, including the memories of murdering a city councilor.”

  Rebecca leaned in between me and Ryan. “This is bad, but we could use the evidence against Sudhatho.”

  “If we don’t, he might find out, and we could end up targeted,” I said.

  Ryan nodded. “The way I see it, the only way to get to safety is to take down Sudhatho.”

  I whistled. “He’s one of the most powerful aeons in the city.”

  “You’re telling me,” said Ryan. “We’re in real trouble. And the other three collapsed the light barrier, I saw it from the ship.”

  “It makes sense now,” Rebecca said. “They’re still working for Sudhatho. He called them back to set Yashelia free.”

  “Why does Sudhatho want Yashelia free?” I asked. “She’s a mad aeon.”

  “He probably guessed at what she’ll do,” said Ryan, “so he can exploit the chaos.”

  “No,” said Rebecca. “That’s not it.” She took a deep breath and glanced at me. “It’s love.”

  “Love?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Yashelia and Sudhatho were together,” she said. “Even in her madness, she still cared for him. I remember a little from her mind.”

  Ryan shook his head. “But we can’t prove anything without exposing ourselves to danger.”

  “I know,” said Rebecca. “Sudhatho won’t wait to kill someone who moves against him.”

  I scowled. “We need to wait, then see what the renegades are planning.”

  Ryan said, “I handed the original memory over to the authorities, but I stored a copy. These four weren’t just here to help Sudhatho. They resent working for him and are planning to take him down once they get the chance.”

  My eyes widened. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, but their double-cross is doomed now. He’ll know everything they’re trying to do as soon as one of his agents clues him in, and I’d bet all my credit he’s got people all over.”

  “So we need to be more careful,” I said. “Operate in the light, not the darkness, and we can expose him.”

  “That’s a long-term plan.” Rebecca folded her arms. “It could work if we all stay alive long enough and are ready for his reprisal.”

  “Stay alive?” I shook my head. “Sudhatho may be a corrupt aeon, but there are others who could help us. People with power.”

  “The Harpers,” said Rebecca. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “As a start.” I glanced behind me, along a row of quiet washing machines. “But we can get more, too. They aren’t all corrupt. They can’t be.”

  “Don’t be so sure about the numbers,” said Rebecca, “but I think you’re right that it’s not every aeon.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Ryan, “because I’m not so optimistic.”

  “Alright,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “One last thing,” said Ryan. “The renegades were out in the west, fighting something, another army. I don’t know what they are, but they aren’t human.”

  I glanced at Rebecca.

  “One problem at a time, Ryan. We need to protect ourselves, especially you, with the memories you have now.”

  “I’m going to bank them,” Ryan said. “Only I will know where, and they’ll be out of my head.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  “I’m going to get back to my team.” Ryan turned and walk for the door. “Good luck.”

  “Good hunting,” said Rebecca to his back. He went out the door and it banged shut behind him.

  She turned to me. “Congratulations on the broadcast, Jeth. It looked good.”

  “Thanks,” I said, unable to shake the cold feeling of dread from our conversation just seconds ago. “I hope we can keep doing it.”

  She put a hand on my shoulder, warm and sweet-smelling. I choked back any further words. We walked out like that.

  Unregistered Memory, Thomas Fenstein, The Icaria Building

  Thomas walked through the lobby of the long, squat Icaria Building. From the outside, the building resembled a giant curled into the fetal position. Used to Lotdel Tower, he wondered at why the whole structure seemed to have been constructed almost like a tall building lying on its side, though it still rose several stories vertically.

  He walked through the lobby until he spotted a pair of female cleans standing side by side. One of them held a paper sign, with his name, written on it. Thomas frowned. He hesitated an instant, before making his way over to the pair.

  “I’m here to talk to Celsanoggi,” he said.

  Both the cleans nodded. The one holding the sign smiled. “She is waiting for you in her suite on the fourth floor.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  The second clean pointed to a pair of doors by the lobby desk. “Her private elevator is that way.”

  He nodded, then clapped them each one shoulder. “Much appreciation,” he said. “You can sit down now.”

  They took his suggestion, as cleans tended to do when given the opportunity to be more comfortable. Thomas took their directions and went to the private elevator in a small room behind a set of double wooden doors. Another clean woman waited there.

  “Are you Thomas Fenstein?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  She turned and pushed a series of buttons to enter a pass-code into the elevator. The doors opened.
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  “The fourth floor,” she said.

  “I remember.” He brushed her hand gently as he walked by. All cleans appreciated physical contact. This was the best he could do to reward someone without memories.

  Thomas rode the elevator upward. At the fourth floor, the bell rang and the doors slid open. He took a deep breath and prepared mentally to meet the servant of Sudhatho. One second of second thoughts. What if she reads my mind? Will she kill me?

  He forced himself to step out of the elevator. One way to go from here. Toward the truth.

  Unregistered Memory, Thomas Fenstein, The Icaria Building

  Thomas took a seat in the dimly lit room within Celsanoggi’s Suite, across a table from the dark-haired aeon. Outside, storm clouds were visible through the slit of window not covered by the Venetian blinds. The city outside consisted of a series of looming square towers and countless smaller, pointed rooftops interspersed between them.

  In the shadows that hid any shabbiness of her clothes, Thomas understood the allure of an aeon. Most humans would never know the love of such a being. Usually, the gulf between humanity and its saviors would not sting, but her beauty made him wonder, and for once he regretted the nature of the division.

  Celsanoggi’s dark eyes moved to look at him, drawing Thomas’ attention. “You had some reason you wanted to meet with me?” she asked.

  He forced a cough into his fist to clear his throat. “Are you familiar with the lone sentry?”

  “In passing. She’s a vigilante who operates all over the city.”

  “I’ve had a few encounters, in passing, with her. Recently, at the train station near Lotdel Tower.” Thomas took a deep breath. “I’m trying to find her.”

  “Why would you want to do something dangerous like that?” Celsanoggi’s brows bent with apparent concern.

  Naturally, a sane aeon would not want to send a human into danger.

  Thomas leaned forward. “I want to repay her. She’s helped protect me and my friends.”

  “Is that so? Do you really think an aeon like her would appreciate such a gesture?”