Chapter #37Treacherous Others by: Seuzz   "When would the Stellae have found Prescott and the girl?" Joe asks. "Me and Frank didn't know about them, and five years is hardly enough time--"
"You're the expert on Stellae training, and I can only speculate. But would it be too far-fetched to believe that they investigated Saratoga Falls shortly after we captured you and Frank, and there they found Prescott, and broke through his amnesia? Found out what he was, and started training him?"
Joe's face is very tight, and he scratches his eyebrow. "Rick," he mutters.
"Yes, from what you've told us, he would be the one to investigate your disappearance, and notice that Prescott had had some kind of 'cover story' draped over him. There's also the very unlikely coincidence, as you've pointed out, that he and the girl were so close to each other. What was his relationship with her?"
"She's his brother's girlfriend."
"There you go."
"I still don't see why we should have anticipated this cock up," he hotly insists.
"We can review that evidence later. The fact is, the evidence now suggests we are dealing with two Stellae who are now inside our most important facility. Where's the girl?"
"Disassembled."
"Then he will be looking for her."
"He was with you. We saw him get in the elevator with number one. He didn't get out again."
You manage not to flinch, because you expected him to say something like that. "So that's why you were searching the apartment and wishing for cameras. I didn't see anything, before or after making another number two."
"You wouldn't have." His eyes narrow. "Prescott would have seen number one making you," he says in a very thoughtful tone.
"So he'd have seen it."
"Repeat after me, sir--"
"Let's not waste time, Joseph. Your interrogation technique only works on real little boys, not on Pinocchios like me. You don't have to worry about Prescott getting into the machinery. There are safety protocols built in."
"Can you show me?"
"Certainly." I can bluff this asshole, you tell yourself as you press the elevator button. Deep down, you're very glad that Dey is a first-class poker player, because you'd be sweating hard otherwise. "Prescott would have had to follow me close to get inside the apartment," you point out as the elevator descends. "I should have felt him. And this elevator goes to other floors. Has Frank checked them out?"
Joe grimaces, and takes out his phone again. He hands you another one--number two's phone--as he asks Frank to check the recordings on the other floors.
Inside the apartment, you lead him back to the console in the duplication bay, and press a sequence of keys that will do nothing. "See? And he wouldn't know how to operate it."
"He might have watched over the boss's shoulder. Come on, easiest way is for you take my test."
"And I said there are safety protocols. There's a physical key."
"What?" he sighs.
The corner tightens about you. "It needs one of Dey's P3s," you lie. "And they're in the vault." You nod at that weird wooden structure built into the wall behind Joe.
"How does it open?"
"That's 'need to know' only, Joseph."
"I need to know. Or you need to take my test." His eyes are turning very bright with suspicion.
"The apartment lock requires Dey's P1. The vault requires his P3. Double security, so that only number one can get into it. Well, now that you're inside--against our own security arrangements--you can also get inside, since you and Frank and number one share the same P3. Even I can't open the vault."
Joe goes to the door. "How do you operate the lock?"
"What do you need in for? That's definitely not--"
"I want to use his P3 to reassemble the girl. Put her on our side and use her to catch Prescott." He looks you up and down over his shoulder. "Prescott wouldn't like to see that happen," he adds softly.
No, you definitely don't want to see that. Aside from turning Verity into another one of Dey's pawns--like Frank and Joe--you would not be able to dodge her lie detecting abilities like you've dodged Joe's.
And from the way he's looking at you, you know he's intentionally putting you in this excruciating dilemma. He's almost certain that you're not the real "number two," and your refusal to let him into the vault will convince him you're a fake. The only thing to do is play for time and hope you find a way out.
So you shrug. "You'll have to take it up with number one afterward. He was saving his last two P3 discs to use on other Stellae."
"We can take her apart again," Joe says. "It's just temporary. Or maybe not, if she really is Stellae. We'd need her on our side anyway, since she's very hard to fool." His tone turns very dangerous.
"Just lay your palm on the door. It's heat activated."
A light of triumph plays in his eyes, and he touches the door. Above him, a panel opens in the ceiling and a mechanical arm tipped with something that looks like a glass spike descends. It pierces the crown of his head, and hums softly for a few seconds. It pulls out of him and retreats to the ceiling.
Then, to your utter astonishment, Joe collapses to the floor.
You gape, then hurry to bend over him. His eyes are glassy and unseeing, and his breath, though regular, is labored. You examine his head. Of course, there is no wound in the crown: the P3 drill only pierces substrata, not the P1 layer that drapes over people. But Joe only lays in your arms, and the door to the vault remains shut.
You stare hard at the prone figure. It doesn't take much to read the signs: it's the catatonia associated with people whose P3 has been paralyzed or removed. But that shouldn't be. It's another of Dey's fail-safes: the drill tests for P3, and if it doesn't match Dey's, it removes it, leaving the victim helpless and easy to imprison or dispose of. The real Dey, you know from your own memories, has been able to get in and out of the vault any number of times safely. Joe and Frank should also be able to get in and out, since they and number one share the same P3. That was the other fail-safe that Dey had put on these agents: to guard against their ever going "rogue" against him, he had revived them using what vulgar speech would call "a little bit of his own soul." So what is going on that Joe's P3 didn't match Dey's?
That's speculation for later. At the moment you only see the advantage you've gained. Not only have you saved yourself from Joe's questions, and his plan to turn Verity into a Fane agent like himself, but you've disabled him completely. If you can do the same thing to Frank ...
* * * * *
"I shouldn't be here," Frank says as he steps uneasily into the apartment. Even with Dey's P3, the brothers retain a lot of their original personality, and Frank dislikes going against protocol.
"This is a crisis situation," you tell him. "I need you to open the vault."
He rears back. "Only number one is supposed to--"
"I know. But Joseph convinced me that we need to reassemble Verity Walker with Julian Dey's P3."
"Where is Joe?"
Hidden in the bathroom. "Doing a time-dilation search of the facility, in case Prescott is visible at that speed. We need to move quickly, Frank," you say as he still hesitates. "I'll take full responsibility. But number one would concur. I know."
"We should call."
"Then open the vault while I do that," you say as you take out your phone. "Put your palm against the door."
He flinches, but does so, while still watching you darkly. The panel opens and the arm slides down and inserts itself into Frank's crown.
"We need to get into the apartment vault, sir," you tell number one when he answers. "We would like to reassemble the female prisoner with your P3, and use her to trap the escaped prisoner."
"I'll be there in thirty minutes," your boss says.
You thank him, and smile as Frank falls to the floor. You pull him into the bathroom and lay him next to Joe.
* * * * *
"In the meantime, what are you doing to catch Prescott," number one asks as the drill lowers itself into his head.
"Searching and reviewing the monitors," you say. "But our current theory is that Prescott is also a Stellae. A Trojan horse we were supposed to bring back here.
"Damn," he mutters as the door opens. "If that's true, and he gets out--"
"We've got the doors sealed," you assure him. "Sealed and under hard observation."
As he steps into the vault, you draw the stun pistol you'd tucked under your shirt. You take careful aim at his back and pull the trigger. He arches, writhes, and collapses against the cabinet inside the vault. His limbs twitch, and then he's still. He'll be out for hours. Plenty of time to get him to the operating theater and disassemble him.
And then?
You step into the vault, and blink in surprise. In the middle of the space something small and round and white is dangling from a string.
Why is a golf ball hanging in the middle of--?
Inside your mind, chains uncoil, and suppressed memories spill out. You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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