Read Bad For Business Page 14

convenience store and sold me some tobacco, taking my last cred stick. The tram flew me along the rail to my apartment building and I entered the lift to reach it. The box of illegal data cores was still where I had left it, taped to the frame under my couch. I dumped them into my garbage chute and turned on the disposal, the metal teeth grinding the tiny black specks into powder.

  I plugged Tara's cred sticks into my mobile and transferred the balance to Devin's account. It only took half a minute for him to call on the encrypted line, “Why did you send me twelve hundred credits? I thought this was the favor I owed you?”

  “This way you can owe me a little longer,” I found the micro data core that I had taken from Tara's ear on the counter.

  “You're a bastard.” Devin hung up on me.

  I put my mobile into the pocket of my trench coat, returning my gun to its usual pocket as well. I took the data core off the counter and held it between the thumb and forefinger of my left hand. It was nearly invisible in the black fingers.

  Contained in the tiny core was proof that an Agent had killed a citizen. I could collect the other evidence I had and broadcast it over the network, doing some heavy damage to the Agency. But I doubted it would be worth the cost. I couldn't know what would happen when the data was released, but I had an idea. I had seen military regimes older than the LEA dismantled with data like this, data that showed the monster behind the mask. I figured Connolly's name deserved the punishment, but Tara's didn't. Besides, a scandal like that would have shock waves. The lower levels could be consumed by riots—martial law could be declared. Reiko's shop is on level ten. I imagined the door torn wide—tongues of flame and belches of smoke consuming her tools. A pale-skinned body laying on the dusty floor. The data would start a war.

  I'd seen enough war.

  I squeezed the data core between the fingers of the cybernetic hand, rubbing the fingertips together until it was nothing more than shards of plastic. I took my mobile from my pocket and used the network to find a current number for Ashley. I dialed the number and pressed the handset to my face.

  “This is Miss Rowan, how can I help you,” In the background, a voice came over a loud speaker that crackled and rendered it inaudible.

  “It's me. How are you?” I hadn't been sure what I would say to her, but I had planned on saying something else.

  There was silence on the line for a long minute, “Adrian.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you realize you're calling me on Mars—while I'm at work?” Her tone had become sharp and she spoke through gritted teeth, “There must be a hundred satellites and relay stations between us. What was so important?”

  My lips curled in and I bit them, feeling my breath hold in my chest. I couldn't say anything.

  “Well, what was it?”

  “I wanted to hear your voice, I guess,” I hadn't meant to say that either.

  Her voice came out short, like a little laugh to herself, “You waited fifteen years to say that?”

  “I guess so,” My fingers found the back of my head and I scratched under my hair, “How's Joshua?”

  “He was transferred out of my district months ago. I have no idea what cell block he's in now,” Her voice had softened and for a few moments the only sound on the line was her breathing, “Look, I have to go. Work's been piling up.”

  “I understand, sorry to bother you,” I ended the call and put the mobile back in pocket.

  I opened my window and sat on the sill, rolling a cigarette on my leg. When it was done, I let it dangle from my mouth as I filled my glass with grain alcohol. I flicked the stainless steel lid of my lighter and struck the gear. Before I could take a drag, my mobile rang. The caller ID showed it was Reiko.

  “You still working?” The bass beat of loud music thumped in the background, a distorted voice singing over the speaker.

  “Nope,” I inhaled deeply on the cigarette and felt the smoke linger in my lungs before letting it out, “Taking a little break.”

  “Take me to a movie.”

  “I'm broke,” I took a swig of the grain alcohol and figured I could use it to thin paint in a pinch.

  “Thought you just did a job? Did you get ripped off again?” The volume of the music in the background lowered, a sound like a jingling set of keys near the receiver.

  “Client couldn't pay,” I drew in on the cigarette and let the smoke of the cheap tobacco out through my nose, “It's fine though.”

  The sound of the shop door rolling up filled the speaker, “How you gonna make rent?”

  “I'll figure something out.”

  “I'll take you to the movie, my treat—then dinner?”

  We met at Cinetrak and watched some archived two-dimensional classic about a man who turned into a wolf under the light of the full moon. Reiko threw popcorn at the screen as I laughed at the rubbery makeup. We made a stop at Yoshi's and sat on the rooftop of her shop, eating noodles and watching the sunrise over the buildings on the horizon.