James Knapp - The Silent Army

A gust of wind blew mist against the side of my face, and made the umbrella roll in a circle.

“They’re monitoring us,” Bhadra said. “Security will be here soon. Let me go, please. You don’t have to do this.”

He met my eye when he said that last part. He was trying to tell me something.

“No?”

“They wouldn’t send someone out here that they thought knew any specifics about Heinser or Concrete Falls,” he said. “If there was information that would be useful to you, it couldn’t come from me.”

I put the gun away and let go of him. He straightened his shirt and picked up the umbrella.

“I found several revivors at Rescue Mission,” I said. “Their signatures were different. The components were different too.”

“Technology changes, Agent.”

“It was a new model of revivor, then?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

“Was that technology at the Concrete Falls facility for some reason? Was that their interest in it?”

“If it was,” he said evenly, “it didn’t turn up in the wreckage after the blast.”

It was the closest to a confirmation I was going to get. Something of Heinlein’s had been stolen, and the blast covered it up. It was taken to the Rescue Mission Clinic, and probably the others that had been raided as well.

“And Heinser?” I asked.

“If some new technology had been developed, it would be highly valuable. To obtain it, someone would need an inside contact.”

“Why not turn him over to us, then?”

“This is a highly sensitive situation, Agent. In the end, Heinlein Industries is a military contractor. This isn’t just a matter of industrial espionage. It’s a matter of national security, and it goes far over your head.”

“Then why see me at all?” I asked.

“To make an official statement. To stonewall you, as you said, and send you away.”

“Then why not do that?”

“Honestly? I’m afraid. I’ve heard you are a man to be trusted. You were very helpful in uncovering the breach into our company two years ago. Thanks to you, the Zhang’s Syndrome study has been designated classified, and we’ve been appropriately distanced from Samuel Fawkes.”

“I wouldn’t thank me for that.”

“You are also known, by us at any rate, to have had a government-issue revivor illegally transported and revived from stasis. Since then, that revivor is also known to have fallen into the hands of established terrorists.”

“Is that some kind of threat?”

“I’m just laying out the facts as I see them.” He closed the umbrella and wrapped the tie around it. “A security force will be here very shortly, Agent. I’d advise you to be on your way out when that happens.”

He held out his hand, and his eyes looked nervous.

“One last thing: I saw something at Rescue Mission I couldn’t explain,” I said. “You want to take a crack at it?”

“If I can.”

“The revivors were being monitored while a machine cycled them between active and inactive. Why would someone do that?”

“For the same reason we do it here,” he said. “To try to streamline the revival process.”

“Why?”

“A time may come when you need them in a hurry.”

He signaled to the remaining revivor, and it climbed back into the jeep. Behind it, two more vehicles were approaching.

He held out his hand again, and this time I shook it. When I did, I felt something against my palm. He looked me in the eye and held the handshake a few extra seconds.

“I’m sorry I’m not permitted to help you more,” he said.

“Thank you for seeing me,” I told him. “Sorry about the revivor.”

He let my hand go and I palmed the object, slipping it into my pocket.

I got back into my car and watched him walk back to the jeep. The look in his eye as he turned away said he wasn’t just worried about security breaches and law-suits. He was worried that the thing he had implied was stolen had ended up in the wrong hands, and that the consequences of that might turn out to be dire.

After I left the Federal Building, I kind of lost track of what happened. I stopped at a bar and had a few drinks; then at some point I remembered stopping at a convenience store and getting a bottle. I was wet now, and the bottle was almost empty. The paper bag it was in was almost soaked through, and the sky had gotten dark.

I stepped off the curb and into a puddle as tires squealed and the grill of a car rocked to a stop a few inches from me. A horn blared, and I stumbled back the way I came while someone cursed out the window. I sat back against a fire hydrant and took a swig from the bottle while people trudged by behind me.

I was still sitting there when a slick black car with tinted windows pulled up next to me. I thought maybe it was Nico, tracking me down after what happened with the interrogation, and it made me mad that I caught myself really hoping it was him. It wasn’t his car, though; it looked way too expensive. Its engine hummed, sounding like a jet plane over the rain.

The window on my side rolled down and I could hear music coming from inside, a loud, thumping bass. I started to walk away when I saw Penny lean across the passenger’s seat and wave.

“Yo!”

“What?”

“What’s up?” she asked.

I held out my hands, liquid sloshing in the bottle. “You’re looking at it.”

“You want a ride somewhere?”

I didn’t really feel like dealing with her, but I was wet and cold. The rain had gotten worse, and I wasn’t completely sure where I even was.

I shook my head, letting my wet hair fall in front of my face.

“Come on,” she said. “You’ll get pneumonia. Get in.”

Warm air was coming out of the open window; I could feel it when I leaned in. The seats looked like real leather.

“I’ll wreck your seats.”

“Don’t worry about the seats.”

I opened the door and got into the car, feeling the bass vibrating through the seat under me. The windows slid back up as the engine hummed and she zipped out into traffic.

“Rough day?” she asked. I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“That why you’re walking in the rain?”

“I guess.”

“What happened?”

“He slapped me.” I meant to say more, but that’s all that came out. It was the only thing that seemed relevant. She looked over at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Who?”

“Nico. He slapped me in the face.”

“What the hell did he do that for?” she asked.

“I don’t know why he did it,” I said. “I had this guy under—I mean, way under. He was totally …”

I was going to say “at my mercy,” but I didn’t like the way that sounded.

“What guy?” she asked.

“I can’t say.”

“If it was going so good, why’d he hit you?”

“Well …he slapped me.”

“Slapping is hitting.”

“I …”

I was confused. I couldn’t think straight. The first thing that came in my mind was that Nico wasn’t like that. He wanted me to stop for some reason, but I was so mad, and it was hard to explain, but taking it out on that guy made me feel a little better. Nico was trying to get me to stop, and I didn’t listen. I thought that might be what happened.

I wanted to tell Penny that, but the words didn’t come out. Saying that it was really my fault I got hit sounded like the kind of thing Karen would have said.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just relax. We’ll be there soon.”

“Be where soon?”

“Your new place,” she said. Not “your place,” but “your new place.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Remember this morning? I said we wanted to set you up in a new place, and you said okay? It’s a done deal.”