Chapter #25Three Escapes by: Seuzz   It's twenty minutes before the intersection is cleared and statements taken and you're free to go. No one gets taken in, of course, since the accident can be ascribed to the mechanical failure of the lights, which released all the cross-traffic once the bus was out of the intersection.
Classic Crazy Ivan, you think bitterly to yourself. Of course, you'd gotten word backstage even before the cops had arrived, and given them the bus number and route.
Knotts told you to go around the corner when you were free, and there you and Gallion find Liu and Patterson waiting. You slow up, and put your hands in the air. "We've been out of sight, boys, you wanna frisk us or something first?"
"You were never outta sight," Liu sneers. "Knotts had us tailing you."
"What? Why didn't you chase the bus?" Gallion exclaims.
"We saw you, we didn't see what you were chasing. Anyway, we got stuck behind you when the shit went down," says Liu. "Come on. Knotts'll be wanting to yell at us."
* * * * *
But Knotts doesn't yell, and she doesn't send anyone to Patterning. In fact, she seems eerily calm: not happy, exactly, but not visibly upset by the cock up. "Go have a drink," she tells you after you finish your own one-on-one debriefing in her office. "Patterson's been asking about when he gets to throw a dart at Greystoke's picture. I told him when you were done with me."
"Let him wait," you growl. "Let's wait till we get Greystoke in and out of that shadow mind, and then we can retire him from the wall. You got a test subject yet? I'll put myself in, if it means getting Greystoke mind-patterned and out of here and over to Nerio."
"Soon, sweetheart," Knotts coos. "I'm waiting for a payoff. But you need to keep Patterson happy. He and Liu don't know we've got a game going, and we can't have them thinking there's something afoot."
You turn in the doorway: "What do you mean they don't know there's a game going? Didn't you brief them on—?"
She shakes her head.
"But they would've seen Stoddard and Muniz coming out. Greystoke and Muniz, I mean. What would they have thought?"
"You're so high maintenance," she mutters, and signals you to close the door. "After your adventure this morning, Stoddard and Muniz drove Greystoke around in the police van with a Mavis unit, and after they copied him they brought him quietly back here and slipped him into the freezer without anyone else seeing. So Liu and Patterson think Stoddard and Muniz delivered Greystoke directly to Nerio, and that I sent you out front to watch for anything janky. So if they'd seen who you were following, they'd just think it was Greystoke, that he somehow got away from Nerio. Because, of course, Nerio hasn't got a Mavis unit like we do."
You try puzzling it through, then give up. "What's with all the double-blind trials recently?"
"I have my reasons," she says with a brittle smile. "Now, go show your face in the rec room, and don't let it slip that Greystoke is down in the freezer."
* * * * *
Patterson and Cox are knocking a ping-pong ball back and forth when you arrive in the lounge. "There you are," the former says, and catches the ball in mid-bounce. "They tell me that when you run into a celebrity, you get to take a shot at his picture." He nods at the Celebrity Wall.
"That's right, cowboy." You pour yourself a drink.
"And after what happened to me this afternoon—"
"What happened to you? I suppose you were the one who got kicked in the face and had his arm pulled from its socket."
He has the grace to look abashed. "I meant my demotion. It would take the sting out—"
"Your demotion?" You exchange an exasperated glance with Cox. "Listen, you fuck, you little fucking ex-jeep," you snarl at Patterson. "Knotts didn't hand you a fucking demotion. A fucking demotion is when you lose a rank. You lost a rating? Boo-fucking-hoo, everyone bounces up and down in the ratings, and if you're such a princess your fucking skin cracks open when you're busted from a jack to a deuce, then we'll put you back in the Chiyoko skin and set you to servicing real men until your pussy's got calluses the size of footballs. And speaking of which, you've been in a fucking game now, which means you're not an ex-jeep anymore, except when I fucking call you on your bullshit, which means you're fair game for Chiyoko japes! So I'll say it again! Grow a pair down here—" You point to your crotch. "Or grow a pair up here!" You point to your chest. "In which case, grow 'em now so I can slip my cock between them and give myself a happy ending to what has turned out to be a shitty. Fucking. Day!"
Patterson stares back at you for a moment, then looks down at the floor. Waves of crimson and chalk wash over his face. But when he looks up his eyes—though very cold—are clear. "Yes sir," he says quietly. "I understand."
"Good," you say, and clap him on the arm to show all is good. "Now let's go put a fucking dart in a fucking celebrity."
* * * * *
So starts one of the great benders of your career, for reasons you don't understand even as it unfolds. Three quick shots in the rec room loosen you up, and soon you're roaring shit at Cox. He lets you take a couple of swings at him, and you let him take some swings at you, and then it's Patterson's turn to try ducking the angry blows. Cox takes it calmly, and while you're pouring yourself a fourth shot and then a fifth he has some quiet words with Patterson. The result is that you and the new guy leave Diana to make a round of the clubs, just the two of you.
Pounding music and flashing lights assault your skull, so you muffle it with more shots, though Patterson—who contents himself with beers drained slowly—keeps you paced so that you don't overwhelm yourself too quickly. You shout at him inarticulately, and dance with a few girls, and your chaperone escorts you out of each club before you can get too hammered or too frisky, taking you to a second and then a third and then a fourth. You wind up in a back booth in a loud pub, weeping uncontrollably into the table; and then some fool has to touch your shoulder and you put his face into a wall. Patterson hustles you out.
You fall into an alley—Patterson holding you close—and talk. You don't know about what, for it's like a black hood has fallen over your head and invaded your brain, so that you feel your mouth move but can't make out the words. Air and exercise revive you when Patterson pulls you back into the street again. You slur some words at him—"Fucking Banks, s'all's fault" you think they are—as, with Patterson's support, you stumble back to your apartment. He puts you on the sofa and you sink back into that black stupor. Harsh lights flash in your head, like fireworks.
"Spoiler--6" 
* * * * *
You should feel like shit the next morning, and you do, but another shift of skin dulls the pain without eliminating it. "You remember anything from last night?" Patterson asks when you stir. The son of bitch is already showered and dressed.
"A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou," you retort. "If I was an asshole, deal with it."
"You were a perfect gentleman."
"I don't like sarcasm this early in the morning. Go away."
He lets you recover for thirty minutes before coming back in. "Knotts called to say you can come in or not, it's your choice, but I'm to stay with you."
"Oh, fuck. You shouldn't skip." You turn over, and your gullet shudders as something thin and foul rushes up and into the bucket Patterson had thoughtfully set out during the night. The goop you evacuate now doesn't improve the goop you put there during the night. Patterson helps you into the shower, and sends you in some coffee and some eggs while you're under the water. "God damn, how'd you learn to take care of people?" you wonderingly ask him after you're dressed.
"I was in a self-organized frat with a couple of guys for a few years before putting in an application with Diana. We spent the first few months getting hammered together. Then we learned to take turns. Made it easier on everyone."
"You didn't go to college," you remind him. "I've seen your file."
"I didn't say I went to college. I said I was in a frat, and I said it was a self-organized frat, and let me tell you about the kind of tail you can get when you don't have classes to blow off but the cunts think you do."
"Jesus." You belch and shudder. "No wonder we let you in."
* * * * *
"My God," Knotts says when she sees you. "You actually look human. Patterson joined the crew too late, if he's been taking this much care of you."
You pull Patterson to your hip. "It's kismet, Knotts, and we can't fight it anymore. Steve and I want to get married just the way we are. Will you be my best man?"
No one laughs, and Knotts brusquely sends Patterson away. "Okay, what's up?" you ask when she closes the door on the office.
"We're testing the shadow mind," she says. "Even as we speak."
"On Greystoke?"
"No, on Muniz. He came back early this morning. Alone. And I can't wait to see what the shadow mind tells us."  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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