“I still care about you, Jazz. You were my best friend for years. I don’t regret falling in love with Tyler, but I know I did wrong.”
“Thanks,” I said. “When I can’t sleep at night because I know you’re nailing the only man I ever loved, I’ll just remember that you feel guilty. All better.”
“It’s been a year. When does your victimhood expire?”
“Fuck you.”
He leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “Jazz, give me a reason not to call the EVA posse. Anything.”
I forced some logic through the swirling vortex of anger in my brain. I had to be a big girl—just for a minute. I didn’t have to like it, but I had to do it.
“I’ll give you a hundred thousand slugs.” I didn’t have 100,000?. But I’d get it if I could trash that last harvester.
He raised his brow. “Okay, that’s a pretty good reason. What the hell is going on?”
I shook my head. “No questions.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“That’s a question.”
“Fine, fine.” He folded his arms. “What about the posse?”
“Do they know it’s me?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t have to do anything. Just forget you saw me here.”
“Jazz, there are only forty people in the whole city who have EVA suits. It’s a small pool to investigate. And the EVA masters will definitely investigate. Not to mention Rudy.”
“I have contingencies for that. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut.”
He mulled it over. Then he flashed a smile. “Keep your hundred thousand. I want something else: I want to be friends again.”
“A hundred and fifty thousand,” I countered.
“One evening a week. You and me at Hartnell’s. Just like the old days.”
“No,” I said. “Either take my money or feed me to the EVA mob.”
“Jazz, I’m trying to play ball, here, but you don’t get to jerk me around. I don’t want money. I want to reconnect. Take it or leave it.”
“Fff—” I began, but I suppressed the “uck you” in my throat. I found a limit to my pride somewhere in there. He could destroy my life with a Gizmo call. I had no choice.
“—fffine,” I finished. “Once a week. Doesn’t mean we’re friends, though.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I didn’t want to ruin you.”
“You already ruined me.”
He winced at the barb. Good.
He pulled out his Gizmo and dialed. “Bob? You still out there?…Okay, I’m just checking in. I’m at the Visitor Center and just suiting up now….Yeah, I got the first train in. I searched the whole center. No one’s here but me and a couple of workers starting their day.”
He listened on the Gizmo for some time, then said, “All right. I’ll be outside in fifteen minutes…okay, I’ll radio when I’m outside.”
He hung up. “Well, I’m off to search for the mysterious saboteur.”
“Have fun with that,” I said.
“Tuesday, eight p.m. at Hartnell’s.”
“All right,” I mumbled.
I finished getting out of my suit with Dale’s assistance. Then I helped Dale into his.
—
When I got home, I flopped onto my back. Good God I was exhausted. Even my shitty coffin seemed comfortable. I pulled my Gizmo out of the alibi-o-mat. I checked the web and email history. The device had done its job.
I sighed in relief. I’d gotten away with it. Sort of. I could expect some questions from Rudy and the guild, but I had my story straight.
There was a message on the Gizmo from Trond: “That last delivery you made was missing an item.”
I messaged back: “Apologies for the delay. I’m working on how to get that last package to you now.”
“Understood.”
I needed a plan for that last harvester before I talked to Trond again. But what the hell could I do? Time for another scheme. No idea what form it would take, but I had to think of something.
Next thing I knew I woke up from an unscheduled nap. I still had my shoes on and the Gizmo in my hand. The day’s exhaustion and previous night’s shitty sleep had caught up with me, I guess. I checked the time and discovered I’d been asleep four hours.
Well, at least I was rested.
—
I walked laps around Conrad Ground for almost an hour. It wasn’t for my health. I needed to get into the Conrad airlock’s antechamber without being spotted.
The HIB was still in a locker in that antechamber. I’d promised Zsóka I’d return it to her within two days, and that deadline was fast approaching. But every time I passed the damn airlock, someone was nearby. So I just kept walking.
I also wanted to steer clear of the EVA Guild for a bit. They’d given up the search after five hours. Right about now they’d be investigating anyone who had access to an EVA suit. I had my Gizmo activity as an alibi, but I preferred not to answer questions at all. Best not to interact with the folks near the airlock.
After four entire laps, I finally caught a window where no one was around. I darted in, waved my Gizmo to open the locker, grabbed the HIB and its remote, then got the hell out of there.
I had a smug little smile on my face as I headed out of the antechamber. The perfect crime. Then I walked right into Rudy.
It was like walking into a brick wall. Well, not quite. If you get going fast enough, you might actually damage a brick wall. I dropped the HIB case because I’m a clumsy oaf.
Rudy watched it fall for a moment then casually plucked it out of the air.
“Good afternoon, Jazz,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You’ll never take me alive, copper,” I said.
He looked at the case. “Is this a hull-inspection bot? Why would you need one of these?”
“Feminine hygiene. You wouldn’t understand.”
He handed it back to me. “We need to talk.”
I put Hibby under my arm. “Ever heard of Gizmos? You can talk to people from anywhere.”
“I suspect you wouldn’t answer if I called.”
“Oh, you know how it is,” I said. “I get all flustered when a handsome boy calls. Anyway, nice talking to you.”
I walked on. I expected him to grab my arm or something, but he just kept pace beside me.
“You know why I’m here, right?”
“No idea,” I said. “Is it something Canadian? Do you need to apologize for shit that isn’t your fault? Or hold a door open for someone twenty meters away?”
“I assume you heard about the Sanchez harvesters?”
“You mean that top news story on every local website? Yeah, I heard about it.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “Did you do it?”
I put on my best shocked expression. “Why would I do something like that?”
“That was going to be my follow-up question,” he said.
“Has someone accused me?”
He shook his head. “No, but I pay attention to what’s going on in my city. You have an EVA suit and you’re a criminal. Seemed like a good place to start my investigation.”
“I was in my coffin all night,” I said. “Check my Gizmo activity if you don’t believe me. I hereby give you permission to check that out—just to save you the trouble of getting Administrator Ngugi to authorize it.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “I’ve also had a request from Bob Lewis of the EVA Guild. He wants last night’s location info for everyone who owns an EVA suit. Do you give permission for me to give him your data?”
“Yes. Go ahead. That should put things to rest.”
“Maybe for Bob,” he said. “But I’m something of a suspicious soul. Just because your Gizmo was in your coffin all night, that doesn’t mean you were. Have you got any witnesses?”
“No. Contrary to popular belief, I usually sleep alone.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sanchez Aluminum is angry. The EVA Guild is upset too.”
“Not my problem.” I rounded a corner without warning to throw him off, but he kept up. He must have known I was going to do that.
Dick.
“Tell you what”—he pulled out his Gizmo—“I’ll pay you one hundred slugs to tell me the truth.”
“Whu…huh?” I stopped walking.
He typed on his Gizmo. “One hundred slugs. Direct transfer from my personal account to yours.”
My Gizmo beeped. I pulled it out of my pocket:
ACCOUNT TRANSFER FROM RUDY DUBOIS: 100?. ACCEPT?
“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.
“Paying for the truth. Let’s have it.”