Thelimousinewasstate-of-the-art,apowerridepaidforbyoneoftheUnion’scountlessmegacorpsorgovernmentbureaucracies.Plushleatherseatsranforabouthalfofitsconsiderablelength.Therewereotherseatsadjacentandtotherearofthevehicle.Thelightingwasbluehalogenfromanornateflatchandelierinthecar’sroof,punctuatedbytheglowofadozenputerandtelevisionscreensandfiltereddaylightfromoutside.Belowthescreensarowofconsolesofvariousshapesandsizes.Caldwellwasfamiliarwithnoneofthem.TheylookedlikecustomJapaneseandChinesedecks.
Whatthehelldidthesepeoplewantwithhim?ThroughthehugetintedwindowsoftheelectrichesawthegrayDocklandsstreetsglidingbysilently.Caldwellfelthisfingersclutchtheknapsack,holdingtheconsoletightlytohistensebody.Sinceithadarrivedinthepost,hiswholelifehadbeenturnedupsidedown.First,therewasKenzoYamamoto’savatarthathadvanishedintothinair,thenthemessagefromGlyph,whowasnowverymuchdead.NexttherewastheappearanceofthetwoJapaneseandnowthesetwoUnionheaviesintheirexpensivePariscutsandthedeckedoutlimofulloffancyputerequipment.Allthiswithinthespaceofhours.
Thetwomenwhohadsavedhislife,ifyoucouldputitlikethat,satatrightanglestohim.Theirbroadheavilymuscledbackswereinclinedagainstthedriver’spartment.Theydidn’tlooklikethetalkingkindsoidlebanterwasoutofthequestion.Theireyeswerefocusedonthedarkunlitpartatthefarbackofthelimoasthoughtheyexpectedsomethingtoeleapingoutofthereatanymoment.Caldwellcouldnotmakeoutadriverinthefrontofthelimo.
Oneofthemuscle-boundmenwasCaucasianwithflamingredhairandablondebeard.Theotherlookedlikehistwin,excepthewasblack.Theybothlookedliketheyspentadisproportionateamountoftheirtimepumpingputerizediron.Therewassomethingsubliminallyabsurdaboutthewaytheyseemedliketheywereabouttoburstoutoftheirblackmacroporesuits.Thetwomenlookedlikeprivatesectorbodyguardsforhirebuttherewasanairaboutthemthatsuggestedsomethingaltogethermoresinister.Theysatthereinscrutable,hidingbehindtheirwraparoundmirrorshades.
“SoMr.Caldwell,aren’tyougoingtothankmeforsavingyourlife?”
Avoicelikeitsownerhadhadironfilingsforbreakfastcamefloatingthroughfromthebackofthelimo.Caldwellwassurethatitwasenhancedbysomekindofvocalimplant.Therewasadecidedlynon-humanedgetoit.Itwasavoicethatsentshiversdownhisspine.Instantly,amaelstromofimagesflashedbeforehiseyes.Fierydragons,papermoneyburningonapyre,sleekpalegirlswithdarksloeeyeslikeavatarsinanancientmassivelymultiplayeronlinegame.Thespeededupcranialslideshowsubsidedjustasquicklyasithadappeared.Init’swakeasplittingheadache.Caldwellgroundhisteethandattemptedtoignorethepain.
Thevoicesoundedlikeitcamefromamanwhocouldsingle-handedlymakeorbreaklifetimecareerswithasnapofhisfingers.Yet,itheldastrangefamiliarity.Caldwellpeeredinthedirectionofthevoicebutcouldseenothing.Hecouldimaginehowthiskindoftheatricscouldrattlesomeoneinhisposition.AndCaldwellwasalittlerattled.Rattledthatwhoeverthiswasknewhisname.
Aclick,asasidelightwasswitchedon,revealingathinhighlystrungmaninablackpinstripedcitysuitandatanfedora.Caldwellfiguredhewashighlystrungbecausepalegreenveinsprotrudedfromhishandsandwristsandpulsatedlikeminiaturefirehoses.Inthesubduedlightingofthelimousine,alongclean-shavenslopingjawlineandopaquegrayreptilianeyesstaredathim.Themanlookedvaguelyfamiliar,thehumanfleshrepresentationofsomecyberspaceimage.Whoeverhewas,itseemedthattimeortechnologyhadbeenkindtohim.Orwasitthekindnessofmedicine?Hecouldhavebeenfiftyoreightyyearsoldbutthemanlookedlikehewouldfighttheeffectsofageingallthewaytograve.Hehadthatdrawnlookofsomeonewhohadundergoneonecosmeticsurgeryoperationtoomany.Helookedfake.
“Thankyou.CanIgetoffnow?”Thetwoidentikitheaviesstaredathimlikehe’djustsuggestedadim-wittedalternativetoEinstein’stheoryofrelativity.Theylookedliketheywantedtogetintimate.Caldwell’smindwasasemptyasablanksheetofpaper.Thingsdidn’tmakesense.Everythingseemedtobespiralingoutofcontrol.Backinthecapsule,lyingdownonthefuton,readytoimbibethecontentsoftheSlav’smysteriousvialofnanopoison,hehadfelttotallyincontrolofhisowndestiny.Now,thiscar,thesepeople,theJapanese,Glyph’sdeath,meantthathewastotallyoutofcontrol,apawninadangerousgamewhoseruleshedidnotknowandhadnowayofknowing.Yet,somehowhefeltthattheoccupantofthisbigcar,thissurgicallyreconstructedsuit,lookedlikeheheldthekeytosomeofthequestions,issuesthatwentbackfurtherthantheday’sevents.
Questionsofidentity.WhoamI?Thissuit,whoreferredtohimbythesurnameonhisIDchip,anamehehadneverusedanywhereinthesystem,notevenincyberspace.Unlessofcourse,theguywasreadingthechipinhispocketwithsomeportablescanner.Caldwellhadafeelinghewouldn’tbesittinginthiscarunlessthismanneededhim.Andwhenpowerfulmenneededyou,youtendedtostayalive,atleastforawhile.
ThedrylaughagainthatremindedCaldwellofaprogramhe’dseenonoldarchivesofthenowdefunctNationalGeographic.Itwasthesoundofacobramovingthroughdriedleaves.Thecobra,thatparticularlygregariousspeciesofpoisonoussnake,hehadlearnthadsincegonethewayofthepopularnaturechannel.Extinct.
“IfinditveryhardtobelievethatyouarenotintheleastbitinterestedinhowIknowyourname.CadCaldwell.”Hisnamepronouncedlikeitwasalessoninelocution.
“Whydon’tyoutellmeandjustdropmeoffsomewhere?We’llcallitquits.”
“Wouldn’tbethefirsttime,Cad.MynameisBruceFouler.Iamthemanwhoinventedyourcareer.Iamthekeytoyourfuture,ifyoucareaboutitatall.Iamheretogiveyouanotherleaseonlife.Youburnedoutwaytooearly.Yourstarburnedbrightfortooshortawhile.Youlackedlongevity.”Allthisingoutinrapid-firestaccato,occasionalinflectionsofcockneypeekingoutfromthemonotonoushumoftheprivilegedaccent.Caldwell’sinstinctshadbeenright.Thesuitknewmoreabouthimthanhehimselfdid.Muchmore.Unless,ofcoursehewasbluffingbutsomethingtoldhimsomeonelikeFoulerdidn’tbluff.Hedidn’thaveto.
“LongevityisrelativeMr.Fouler.AslongasIamstillbreathing,IfigureI’vegotashotatit.”
“Stillthesmartass,eh?”Fouleraskedwithfeignedbemusement.
Caldwellsaidnothing.Hewasthinkingaboutwhetherthismanreallyknewanythingabouthispast.Thiswasthefirstpersonwhohadevermentioneditoutofthebluelikethis.AndcallitpsychologyorpartialrecallbuthewasbeginningtofindthisFoulercharacter’sfacevaguelyfamiliar.Andtherewasthemountingfeelingthathewasnotgoingtolikewhatthismanhadtotellhim.
“Whydon’tyoutellmewhythosemenweretryingtokillyou?”Foulercontinued.
“Youseemtohavealltheanswers.Shouldn’tyoubetellingme?Whatdoyouwantwithme?”
“OK,let’scuttothechase.You,Mr.Caldwell,usedtobeoneofus.Nevermindwhoweareforthemoment.We’llgettothatinajiffy.Butthecruxofthematteristhatsomewherewithinthesystem,we’vedecidedthatweneedtoavailourselvesofyourskillsonceagain.Onastrictlyfreelancebasisofcourse.Bewarnedthoughthatoncewewantsomeoneback,wegetthembacknoquestionsasked.Inyourcase,I’llmakeanexceptionandinreturnforyourserviceswe’llgiveyousomethingbackthatyou’vebeensearchingforaverylongtime.Thinkofyourselfastheprodigalsoningbacktothefold.”
ThetwoagentskepttheirmirroredeyestrainedonCaldwellandproducedthedeepheavysoundsthatservedthemaslaughter.
****
ThelimousinecutthroughlightLondontraffic.HeavyrainpummeledtherooflikeitwastryingtorewritetheentireworksofShakespeareinMorseCodeinamatterofminutes.Caldwellhadetotheconclusionthatthelimousinewasinfactdriverless.Therewasacertainprecisiontothedrivingthatsuggestedtheabsenceofahumanhandintheprocess.Hecouldseetheraindropletsmakingsplashpatternsontheskylightabove.Therewassomethingmathematicalaboutthewaythedropletsdispersedthemselvesoverthetransparentsurface.Caldwellhadlonglosttrackofwheretheywere.Nondescriptbuildingsandderelictindustrialfacilitieswhizzedbysilently.Flashesoflightningstrobedthroughtheinteriorofthelimointermittently,makinggarishsnapshotsofthetwoheavieswhowerenowplayingsomekindofvideogameononeofthelimo’sconsoles.
Fouler,themysterymanwiththeslopingjaw,wassittinginthebackraptinthought,asthoughhewasmakinguphismindwhethertotellCaldwellsomething,ornot.Caldwellwasstillreelingandtryingnottoletitshow.Hehadbeenoneofthem,whoevertheywere,andtheywerethekindofoutfitthatcouldafforddriverlesslimousinesandcouldusegovernmentapprovedsoundguns.Fromthelookofthebankofconsolesblinkingsporadicallyinthedarkinterior,thiswasanoutfitthathadatitsdisposalanincredibleamountofputingpower.IftheycouldhavethishugearrayofexpensiveequipmentinFouler’slimo,imaginewhattheyhadatwherevertheykeptoffices,iftheyhadofficesatall.Bigunionconcernsalwayshadoffices.Itwastheirwayofstampingauthorityonanincreasinglyfluidmarketwithahugeandrapidlyexplodingpopulationoffreelancerskeptincheckonlywiththeadvancesofidentificationandlocationtechnologies.
Caldwellhadalwayssuspectedthathe’dpreviouslyhadalifethathecurrentlyrememberednothingabout.Withthishunchconfirmed,hisheartquickenedinanticipationofwhatFoulerwasabouttotellhim.Thisstuffwastooimportanttointerruptsohesatpatientlygettingacquaintedwiththeinnardsofthecar,waitingforFoulertospillthebeans.ThelastthinghewantedwasforFoulertochangehismind.
Thebankofconsolesblinkedrandomly,linesofputercodescrollingdownindifferentmonitorsanddisappearingintotheether.Caldwell’sfingersitchedtogetacquaintedwiththeiroperatingsystems.Vastplainsofdataexpandedbeforehiseyesandhefelttheadrenalinrushofjackingintosomenewterritoryincyberspace.Foulercoughed,moretogetCaldwell’sattentionthanforanybiologicalreason.Thetwoheaviesstoppedstabbingattheconsolesandstaredattheirmasterforamoment.Thentheycontinuedplayingagain.
Foulerseemedtohavemadeuphismindaboutsomething.Hepulledastackofcardsfromhisinsidejacketpocketandshuffledthroughthemlikeacroupieratathirdratecasino.Caldwellwonderedwhatthehellwasgoingon.Thetwogoonsputdowntheircontrolsandedgedforwardinanticipation.Caldwelltappedlistlesslyonthepseudoleatherskinofhisknapsack.
“Iwantyoutotakealookatthis,”Foulersaidatlength.
“DoIhaveto?”Caldwellretortedwithjusttherightamountofsarcasmtogetontheman’snerves.Hewantedtofindoutaboutthepastnotindulgetheguyinsomeoccultfetish.ThemanwhocalledhimselfFoulernarrowedhiseyesintodangerousslitsandscruncheduphissmoothplasticface.
“Youdon’thaveanyideadoyou,whatIamofferingyou?”hehissedbetweenclenchedteeth.
“Allrightthen,”Caldwellsaidandgrabbedoneofthecardsfromhisthinwell-manicuredfingers.Foulerblanchedwithragebutsaidnothing.
Caldwelllookedatthecard.Itwasaphotographofacoupleintheirforties.ThemanlookedlikehewasofMiddleEasternorprobablyevenItalianorigin.YettherewassomethingdistinctlyCaucasianabouthisfeatures.Hazeleyeslookedoutfromrimmedglassesonasquareface.Hewasgood-lookinginthatdark-skinnedLatinway.Thewomanthough,abrunette,hadfeistyorientaleyesthatburnedwithpassion.Therewassomethingwildsmolderingbehindthoseeyes,somethingdisturbingbutatthesametimefamiliar.Caldwellhadneverseenthiscoupleinhislifebutsomethinginthewoman’seyesstirredsomethingwithinhim.TherewasobviouslyareasonwhyFoulerwasshowinghimthisphotobuthehadn’tthefoggiestideawhy.Ordidhe?
Caldwellflippedthephotographover.Therewasnoinscriptionontheback.HehandedthephotobacktoFoulerwhodeftlyplaceditatthebottomofhispileofcards.
“AmIsupposedtoknowthem?”heasked,deliberatelytryingtosoundoffhand.Anideawasbeginningtoforminhismindandhedidn’tthinkthathecoulddealwithitsimplicationsatthatprecisemoment.
“Idon’texpectyouto,”Foulersaidwithaslysmile.
“Heretakealookatthisone.”FoulerpulledanotherphotofacedownfromthepileandhandedittoCaldwell.
“LookFouler,orwhateveryournameis,thisisgettingtedious.Eithertellmewhatyouknowaboutmypast,dropmeofforkillme,”Caldwellscreamed.Hewasbeginningtoloseitwiththeguy.Thelastoptionwasbeginningtosoundaspromisingasithadbeeninthemorning.Thiswasgettingoutrageous.Foulerwastakenabackbyhisoutburst.
“Justlookatthefuckingphoto.Yourfuturedependsonit,”heseethed.
“Okay,okay,don’tgetyourY-frontsinatwist,”Caldwellsaid.Fouler’sskinnyhandsballedintofists.Theengorgedveinsthrobbedevenmoreviolently.Hisjugularlookedlikeitwasabouttopop.HesimmeredasCaldwelldidarotatehorizontalonthephotoandstaredatit.Hisheartskippedseveralbeats.
Itwasaphotoofaninfantwithamischievousgrin.Hehadthesamesmolderingbrowneyesasthebrunetteinthecheongsam,thesameOrientaltilttotheeyes.Caldwellfelthimselfbreakintoacoldsweat.Itstartedasafaintdewypatinaandthenstartedgushingoutofhispores.Therewasnomistakingtheeyes.Theywerehiseyes.Hehadjustspentthemorningstaringintothem.Ashadeofbrownsolightthatitwasalmostamber.Theywerealmostidenticaltothewoman’seyes.Thatmadeherhismother?Andtheacademic-lookingmanwashisfather?
AmigrainecameoutofnowhereandstartedpoundingCaldwell’sconfusedbrain.Hepulledhislastcanisterofpainkillerfromhisbreastpocketandjabbeditintohisarm.Reliefcameinslowbutdeliberatewaves.
“Thosethingswillkillyou,”Foulersuggested.
“Arethosemyparents?Youknowthem?”Caldwellgasped.Hewasstillbreathingheavilyfromthesuddenmigraineepisode.Stillsweatinglikeadogonheat.Allpretencehadgoneoutofthewindow.Thiswastoobig,toofar-reachingtoplaygames.
“Yes.Iknowmorethanyoucanpossiblyimagine.”
“Tryme,”Caldwellsaidfightingoffawaveofnauseaandstillreeling.
“Iholdthekeytoyougettingyourmemoryback,”Foulersaid,observinghismanicuredfingernailslikehewasjustgettingacquaintedwiththem.Hiseyeshadnarrowedtorivets.Caldwellstaredathimwithhismouthwideopeninsurprise.Abeadofsweatdribbleddownhisforehead.Hewasposedbutonlyoutwardly.Hismindwasbeingbombardedwithallkindsofthoughts.AsteelyresolvekickedinasherealizedtheimplicationsofwhatFoulerwassaying.ThemanwasimplyingthatCaldwell’smindhadinfactbeenerased.Thatwouldexplainhistotallackoflongtermmemories.IfFoulerhadanythingtodowithhismemorylosshesworehewouldgethisownback.Buthewasn’tgoingtolettheguyknowthat.Hehadtoplayitcool.
“Mymemory?Proveit,”Caldwellsaidcasually.Thiswasinsane.IfFoulerwasn’tbullshitting,hewanteditallback.ButheknewFoulerwasgoingtouseitassomekindofbargainingchip,whichmeanthe’dhavetodowhateverFouleraskedhimtodo.
“Youaskedforit.Askandyeshallreceive,”Foulersaidprophetically.Theman’sskeletalhandsreturnedthephotostohisbreastpocket.Caldwellmadeamentalnotethatthosebelongedtohimandthathe’dtakethembackonewayoranother.Foulerstillhadadeckofcardsinhisrighthand.Heflippedoneofthemover.ItwasawhitecardwithwhatlookedlikearedChinesecharacteronit.ItmeantnothingtoCaldwell.HewasgoingtoletFoulerknowthathedidn’treadChinesewhenithappened.
***
Anacceleratedslideshowofhispastflashedbeforehiseyes.Athousanddejavusrolledintoonetightpackageandstrobedthroughanancientcinemaprojectorpletewithfilmscratchesandcacklingsound.Interspersedwiththeimagesweresnippetsofconversations,discordantvoicesandmusicracingthroughCaldwell’smind.
Aroastedsucklingpigonabanquettablefestoonedwithredandgold.ThebackgroundnoiseisacacophonyofMahjongtilesandtheclangoforientalweddingmusic.Skateboardingdownasteeproadintosomeofthetallestskyscrapershehaseverseen.Hecanalmosttouchthemasheracespast.Gleamingcorporatebuildingsthatchangecolorinthesunlightasthesuncatchesglassandsteelfromadifferentangle.Athousandcorporatelogoslightupthenightskyturningitintoanartificialday.
AwailingwomanburnsapaperRollsRoyceoutsideaChinesetemple.Kungfumovies,spedupandblurred,rushpasttheblankfabricofhismind.AmillionlanternsbobinapollutedStyrofoam-infestedharbor.Kidsrunandscreamindelight,hurlingredmeltingwaxattrees.AbrunettewithsmolderingAsianeyesswoopsdownfromabove.Theeyeszoominonhimandbreakintoasmile.Agirlinalibrarywithasoulsotranslucentithurtstolookather.AChinesejunkcatchesthefadinglightofablood-redsunset.Pinkdolphinsjumpandsqueakinadankblacksea.
Oldmenmovetheirarmsasthoughtryingtograbobjectsoutofthinair.Anightmarket,crowdsofgirlschatteringinasquarethatisatoncestrangeandvaguelyfamiliar.Aheavilymade-upandrogynousface,sharplyangled,movesviolentlytogarishmusic.Agirlbendsbackwardsandpicksupaswordwithherteeth.Anotherdoesaperfectdiveintoapoolofblood.AChinesecharacterinanunusualshadeofredmaterializesonawhitepieceofpaper.
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