A Gathering Evil Page 6

  Jytte seemed to warm up beneath Marit's praise. I extended my hand to her, and she took it after a moment's hesitation. Her flesh felt cool to the touch, and her arm oddly light. She held my hand rather gently, and we shook once before breaking.

  Hal moved to the chair at the head of the table. "Jytte, any information on the two bodies Tycho here put down?"

  The blond automaton nodded slowly as she took a seat toward the middle of the table. "I have caused one to be identified as Tycho Caine, and I sewed enough discord in that file to keep it that way for a couple of days. The other is Paul Gray. He was a private investigator who worked mostly for Lorica Industries. He used a man named Wallace Griffin on a lot of his contracts, so I suspect this is who the other body was. The LeBoeuf was a Lorica fleet car."

  I think her face made an attempt to frown as she added one other point. "Mr. Caine used his own credit card to secure the rental car, but the bills were going to a Lorica dummy corporation. Someone on the 101st floor was picking up some of his bills."

  I took a chair opposite Hal, and Marit seated herself at my right hand. Natch sat across from Jytte, Alejandro sat next to her and Rock sulked in a chair between Jytte and Hal. Bat remained in the corner with his massive arms folded. "Lorica was paying my bills? Why would they put someone on me, in that case?"

  Hal shrugged. "Perhaps whatever you were supposed to do had a time limit, and you missed your deadline. Someone might have wanted to take their retainer back out of your hide." He glanced at Rock. "Anything juicy going down with Lorica?"

  Rock shook his head. "No beheadings at board meetings, if that's what you mean. The Witch has fully consolidated her power since the takeover two months ago. Nerys Loring does not look like that much of a change from her father, Nero, but the way she ousted him was a work of art. He might have been old, but not that old. Engineers get a lot of use out of their experience, and the man who planned Frozen Shade and the maglev circuit should have had a couple more projects in him."

  Natch made a clicking sound with the corner of her mouth. "Word on the street was that some loyalists retired Daddy to Casa Vacío real fast. She doesn't know where he is, and wants him found." She looked at me with an evil grin. "You good at hide and seek, Caine-man?"

  "I don't know." I put my hands flat down on the table. "So far I've only been good at shooting things and starting fires."

  Everyone grinned except for Bat.

  He chuckled.

  This did not make me feel good.

  Marit patted my hand, then left her fingertips touching my wrist. "Hal, looks like a double tie back into Lorica to me. It occurs to me that if we could get Mr. Caine into the Lorica Industries reception in City Center tomorrow night, we might be able to shake something loose."

  The big man smiled broadly and nodded. "Good idea. Can we get him in?"

  Alejandro nodded confidently. "I have an invitation to go."

  Marit grinned like a predator. "Good, we can make it a threesome." When Hal's head came up, she added, "You don't think, Hal dear, they would even try to keep me out, would you?"

  Again Bat chuckled, and Hal shook his head. "No, I don't suppose they would. Good, your being there will unsettle things enough that we might get very lucky."

  "Jytte, can you alter the Mizuno files enough to move Mr. Caine to another room if someone checks?"

  Jytte nodded an affirmative answer to Marit's question. "You will want me to change the door combination to the room his things are in, correct?"

  "Yes. If you do that, we can get his things back." Marit looked over at Hal. "Depending upon what he has in his room, we may have to buy him some new clothes for the reception."

  "Go to it, Coyote said he has carte blanche."

  Jytte confirmed Hal's statement with a nod. A phone began to ring in the room she had come from, so she got up to answer it.

  Rock leaned back in his chair. "Okay, sport, after we get your stuff at the hotel, I know a place we can get some crush'n duds for you."

  "Accent on the dud there." Marit slipped her left hand through my right arm. "I'll take him to his hotel, then to buy clothes. This is a party in the clouds, Rock, not some Eclipse soirée where the highlight is crushing beer cans on your forehead."

  Her remark stung Rock deeply, but before he could reply to it, Hal cut him off. "She's right, Rock. Besides, I need you here. I want a full report on what you saw in the Warriors' warehouse. I got the Blood Crips to hold off from a major offensive, but I'm going to need you to use your charm on WAWA and the Zombies." He looked at the rest of the group. "Keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything odd going down with Lorica, call in to Jytte. She's coordinating with Coyote for us."

  As if summoned by the use of her name, Jytte reappeared in the doorway. "Mr. Caine, Coyote would like to speak to you." She held out a solid lump of a black phone to me.

  I took the handset and brought it up to my ear. In the background I heard a humming sound as if some electrical device was causing light interference. "Hello?"

  "Ah, Mr. Caine, how good to speak with you. You have been a busy boy since you came to our city."

  "Apparently."

  "Indeed." He paused for a second, and I realized I found his voice a touch mechanical. No doubt machine altered to make it difficult to identify. "Mr. Caine, my people and I will do all we can to solve the mystery of your identity. I know we will succeed, but I have one thing to ask in return."

  I smiled. "Paying forward, you mean."

  "Precisely." I heard a bit of laughter in his voice. "I'm glad you are so quick because, you see, one of the people in the room with you is a traitor. I would like you identify and deal with him before he succeeds in killing you."

  Strapped into Marit's GDM Ariel, I remained silent as she sliced through traffic on the Squaw Peak Parkway

  . She drove quite well for someone bent on doubling the speed limit, and the low sports coupe clung to the roadway as if its wheels were made of Velcro. The roadway itself went up and down like a rollercoaster, providing me an occasional glimpse of upstreet facilities from a downstreet roadway.

  I kept a smile on my face so Marit would view my silence as mute approval of her driving, but I also used it to hide my confusion as I mulled over what Coyote had told me. I had only just met his people, and I was coming to trust them, when he sent a cruise missile through my confidence window. Immediately I began putting each of his aides into a box and examining them for motives.

  The basic problem I had, of course, was that I did not know enough about them to start making any judgments. Rock Pell was easy to put on the list as the top candidate because he could have used his car phone to alert Lorica that I was going after my car. Then again, I'd already rationalized a workable explanation for why they were waiting, so the only mark against Pell was that I found him self-centered and uncaring, but if that was a capital crime, I'd run out of bullets long before dispensing justice to all who deserved it.

  Coyote had not said how he wanted the situation dealt with, but I had no doubt he expected me to kill that individual. Oddly enough, that didn't cause me any problem, which helped convince me I was a troubleshooter that corps brought in to deal with problems. I just found myself hoping I could uncover the traitor before he or she got a chance to do me. I also hoped Coyote's problem wasn't bigger than he imagined, because a second or third traitor in the group would severely confuse any effort to find one of them.

  "Cover your eyes," Marit directed me.

  "What?"

  "Cover your eyes, we're leaving Eclipse." Marit signaled and pulled the Ariel into the right exit lane. Above us I saw a sign announce: "You are entering City Center. Unauthorized vehicles are subject to confiscation ,and the owners will be prosecuted."

  "City fathers have no sense of humor, eh?"

  "No." She hit the gas as the car started up a steep incline. "For nearly 20 years they did everything they could, from having festivals to sponsoring a Grand Prix to get folks to come to downtown. The harder they w
orked to get folks down here, the more folks went out to the hinterlands to watch ostrich festivals and medieval fairs. It was only when they restricted access to the sort of uppercrust clientele they wanted anyway did the rush to rediscover City Center begin."

  "Forbidden fruit?"

  "Exactly, now cover your eyes."

  I got my right hand up just in time as her car nosed its way over the peak of the incline and into daylight. The sunlight hurt my eyes at first, but they quickly adapted, and I lowered my hand. "My God, that's beautiful."

  "From Tartarus to Olympus we are bound."

  City Center looked like a shining crystalline city of the future that had risen through a glossy black ocean. The base of the urban island spread across the western horizon for almost five miles and extended upward for about five stories. A dozen towers stood like mountains above that, with three extending over 100 stories into the air. Copper trim and rosy marble blended with mirrored silver towers to create a jewel of a city floating in the photovoltaic sea.

  Off to the right I saw the gray supports for what looked to be a magnetic levitation train line running into City Center at the southern edge. I looked back along the line and saw two more smaller man-made islands to the south. "What are the little ones?"

  "Directly south is the Sumitomo-Dial citadel and back southeast is the Honeywell & Koch complex. One maglev circuit connects all seven of the satellite citadels with each other, while others connect them with City Center. If you live in the towers, your feet never have to touch the ground."

  The roadway sloped back down, and I saw it ran straight into the middle of the island approximately eight stories above the Frozen Shade. We passed through the mirrored glass walls, and I suddenly found myself inside what could have been seen as a massive mall. Above me, covered walkways and peoplemovers crisscrossed the sky to move bodies from one tower to another. Below, descending for another two very tall stories, escalators took people to an incredible labyrinth of white marble corridors and stores of every description possible.

  Marit pulled off the roadway at a valet parking area. We both got out, and a fresh-faced kid got into the Ariel. He handed her a ticket and she tipped him $5. As we stepped up on to the curb, he headed the car down a narrow roadway that led to a tunnel.

  "Where's he taking your car?"

  Marit slipped her left hand through my right arm. "We're currently four levels above Frozen Shade, which is roughly 18 stories above the ground. Level Five, the one just at Frozen Shade is a vast parking area. When we get set to leave, they will bring the car to whichever road exit we have chosen."

  I frowned as we walked forward and got on an escalator going down. "City Center is a rather big place. How do we get around without a car?"

  "All around the outside of Level Six, and at crossing points on Level Seven, shuttle-coaches will take us wherever we need go to." With her free hand she pointed diagonally across the wide plaza. "The Mizuno Sheraton's lobby is on Level Seven, otherwise we would take an elevator down to Six and go around."

  "Let me see if I have this straight: Level Five is a parking garage and Level Six has a train."

  "A train and shops. Down there are mostly department stores like Comrade Montgomery Ward or bookstores, newsstands and drugstores. Anyone can go down there, and that's where we have theaters, arcades and restaurants that are best suited to kids. Level Seven has some fine restaurants and some of the finer specialty stores. Mostly European or top-of-the-line Latin products available there. Level Seven even has the new Mercado, which looks just like a Mexican Village. It's delightful, you'll love it."

  As she spoke and we slowly ascended through Levels Eight and Nine, I saw some familiar store names. Clearly prices escalated as one ascended in levels, as did items of quality. Level Eight might as well have been sliced out of Tokyo and flown over. Level Nine seemed to cover most of the German manufacturers and some of the very best American companies, with the latter's stock in trade being fine weapons.

  "If access is restricted, who gets in?"

  Marit gave my arm a reassuring little squeeze. "Those who work in the shops and the offices here take up Levels One through Four. They seldom spend time outside work above Level Six, but they are allowed. Many folks, I am told, celebrate anniversaries or special occasions by attending functions up here. The executives or career folks live in the various towers—offices tend to start at Level 15 and work up. The ultra-rich, like Nerys Loring, live above the clouds. Folks between her and the normal working folks also live out in Paradise Valley, if they can afford it, and commute in. Eclipsers cannot enter City Center on their own, but they can come here as guests."

  "So that means seldom, if ever."

  "'Cept when they look like you," Marit grinned.

  We left the escalator and started walking through the crowds toward the Mizuno Sheraton. It did not look familiar to me, but then nothing had, so that was not a big shock. The crowds were not that big, but it was easy to see, from the gawking and pointing, who were the untermenschen who had come up to see City Center and who were the folks who spent too much time here to be impressed. Despite the fact that they looked clean and well-fed, I felt a certain pity for them. They seemed less people than hamsters trained to wander through a maze to amuse their master.

  At one point in the big mezzanine, I saw a whole city park that had been transplanted upward. A cute little white picket fence bordered it, and toy boats floated across a central pond. Nannies in uniforms watched little boys and girls playing ball or using the swing-set. The children all wore very fine clothing, with shorts, knee-socks and white shirts predominating among the boys and frilly dresses, gloves and bonnets among the girls. I looked around for a sign to indicate this was some sort of play or costume drama, but every indication I saw suggested what I was looking at was real.

  "Do people actually make their kids dress like that to play in this oversized terrarium?"

  Marit nodded solemnly. "Burton Barr Park is only for those who can afford it. They want their children to have the best of everything. You're looking at a breeding ground for the people who will someday control City Center and the corpvils surrounding it."

  When we finally arrived, two young women greeted us at the hotel doorway. We smiled politely, and Marit laughed as one girl whispered her name to the other. Without pausing, we swept through the lobby, and Marit directed me to the correct bank of elevators. Having gotten the information on my room from Jytte while I spoke with Coyote, she led the way on our quest.

  "Four-three-three-seven," she breathed as she punched the combination into my door. The red LED shifted to green, and the door clicked open. She waited for me go through the doorway first, and I obliged her. I hoped against hope that something in the room would seem familiar enough that it would spark my memory.

  No such luck.

  The room had a west-facing window in it, which gave us a breathtaking view of the setting sun, but other than that it was unremarkable. It was, after all, a hotel room and allowed no room for personalization. Moreover, aside from some change in an ashtray, it hardly looked as if I had been here at all.

  I sighed audibly. "Time for a careful, methodical search."

  Marit agreed with a nod. "I'll start with your closet." She opened the door and whistled appreciatively. "You have good taste. Italian, I think, for the suits. The shoes are definitely Bucci Imports."

  I smiled as I opened a dresser drawer. There I saw four pairs of jockey shorts all folded neatly. Beside them were four pairs of colored socks, likewise neatly folded in the middle. The next drawer down had four shirts. Three were white and the other was a light blue. Each looked freshly laundered and well starched.

  "This is odd." Marit had taken one of the suit jackets from the hanger, leaving the pants hanging over the hanger crossbar.

  The jacket looked like a normal black, double-breasted jacket with dark buttons on the front and sleeves. "What's wrong?"

  Marit frowned and pouted delectably with her lower lip. "I
know this is an Armando suit—one of the last photo shoots I did had a man modeling this design."

  "And?"

  "This one has no tags." She opened the jacket so I could see the lining. "The designer label, washing instructions and size tags have been cut out."

  I glanced back at the shirts in the second drawer. "Same thing here. Do you think that suit has been worn?"

  "Perhaps, but not folded up in a suit bag—no way."

  I crossed to the bathroom and flicked the light on. Arrayed neatly on the counter I saw a shaving kit that purportedly belonged to me. The toothpaste tube had maybe one squeeze gone from it. The toothbrush looked new, as did the blade in the razor. The can of shaving gel might as well have been brand new. The bottle of aspirin had not, in fact, been opened.

  Returning to the room puzzled, I saw Marit had shifted from the closet to my dresser. She'd opened the other top drawer and had appropriated the sunglasses therein. "Serengeti Vermillions, very nice. Christian Dior sweater, an Iceberg sweater and a nice set of gold cufflinks set with a diamond. Whoever bought these things for you has good taste, and was probably getting a kick-back from the merchants."

  I shook my head. "I don't follow you."

  Marit lifted up the sweater that, while it had no labels, I trusted to be made for Christian Dior. "This is your size, and even a style that would look good on you, but this powder yellow is not your color. You have such gorgeous green eyes and strong features that you'd not want a soft color like this. And the cufflinks—none of your shirts have french cuffs. I suspect the buyer got a gift in exchange for taking them off the merchant's hands."

  "What are you saying?"

  "What I'm saying, my sweet, is that this might have been your room, and you might actually have stayed here, but this stuff was in here and waiting for you when you arrived."