"He's in very bad condition," the doctor told Max as
he walked through the halls. "It's amazing he's held
on this long. Maybe he was waiting for you to come."
The words were like a knife, because she wasn't
actually the man's wife. And maybe there was someone
at home who didn't know. Someone the man was actually
clinging to life in order to see again, one last
time. "What's wrong with him?" Max asked.
The doctor stopped outside a door marked "No Entry."
Max noted the security lock on the door, frowning at
it. "You need to prepare yourself," he told her.
"Why?" Max asked, then remembered she was supposed to
be playing the grieving, worried wife rather than the
revved up soldier girl. "What did they do to him?"
"Your husband has been badly beaten. Beyond
badly...The bones of his face are shattered. And the
other things they did..." The doctor trailed off as
though it was difficult to find the words. "I
ordinarily wouldn't let you go in there, except I
think he has been waiting for you. Waiting to see you
again, before he dies. And he should die." The doctor
found her eyes again. "I'm sorry, but it would be the
most merciful thing."
Max felt sick. There was no mercy in death.
After a moment, the doctor looked away from her,
clearing his throat and then speaking detachedly.
"Both his eyes are gone, one of his legs was severed.
His chest is an open wound, part of his lungs have
been destroyed --" He paused and looked at her,
taking in the shock on her face, and closed his
mouth. "I'll let you say goodbye."
He pressed the code into the security pad on the door
and Max instantly memorized the tones before she
stepped inside.
The room smelled like death. She glanced behind and
saw the doctor standing in the hall. He nodded, and
closed the door. She was alone with the man. The
doctor hadn't been kidding; the guy was already dead
even as he struggled for breath. Max frowned,
wondering who would have done such a horrible thing.
His face was a mass of pulp. Blunt force trauma, Max
thought, but that wouldn't account for what the doc
had said about his eyes being gone. There was too
much swelling for her to tell for sure. Something
wasn't right about this.
She moved closer and the man startled, choking
slightly. Coming into what must have been a painful
and terrible consciousness. "It's okay, I'm here,"
she said, knowing it wasn't her voice he'd been
hoping to hear. She touched him lightly, turning him
so she could see the mark at the back of his neck.
Something about it didn't look right. Didn't look
Manticore. Although what did she know, she hadn't
exactly spent a lot of time recently checking out the
back of her own neck in the mirror. She memorized the
sequence of numbers and the bar pattern. Manticore
was the only thing that made sense, considering what
had been done to this guy. Obviously someone wanted
what Lydecker referred to as "the technology" so
badly they were willing to steal it, piece by piece.
Sickened, Max began to turn away, but the dying man
reached for her, like a child asking for comfort. Her
heart hardened and she stopped, touching his hand. He
might have been one of her siblings, and if he was
one of her siblings it might have just as easily been
her lying in that bed with pieces of her missing.
When he reached for her blindly, she took his hand
and stood there until the last gasping breath faded
from his body.
_ _ _
"What are you talking about?" Logan asked, finally
finding words through his stunned fog. No one knew
about his secret life as Eyes Only. No one except
Max. Not even Bling. And it had to be that way, or he
was going to end up with more than a blasted-out
spine to worry about.
Gretchen looked at him, her expression almost amused.
"Come on, Logan. You know I never forget a face."
He just looked at her, feeling the pounding pulse of
his heart in his chest. He should be making excuses,
he thought.
"Did you really think these were enough to hide your
identity?" she continued, her voice turning soft. He
looked at her curiously, recognizing the cadence of
her voice across the years, as she reached out with
one gentle hand and removed the glasses resting
against the bridge of his nose.
He blinked to bring her now-softened image into
focus. He really was nearsighted - it wasn't all fun
and disguises.
"The only question really," Gretchen continued
softly, setting his glasses on a nearby table, "is
why."
Why was definitely the question, Logan thought, as
Gretchen did what she'd always done after removing
his glasses, which was press her lips against his.
"Hey Logan, you were right, something weird is
definitely going on with -- oh."
Max's voice. Max. Damn, Logan thought, fumbling to
bring himself back to his senses, one hand flailing
out for his glasses, the other moving to give
Gretchen a not-so-subtle push away. Of course in his
flustered state, his hand landed directly on her
breast, which wasn't exactly the encouragement to
leave him alone that he'd intended it to be.
"Um, sorry," Gretchen said, her tone flat as she
yanked down the hem of her shirt, moving to sit
further back on the couch. She looked as perplexed as
he felt.
"Max -" Logan said, turning, but all he saw was the
door being pulled closed.
"I shouldn't have done that," Gretchen admitted, and
Logan was surprised to see her eyes were wide with
something like nervousness or fear. That would be a
new personality addition, he thought. "Aren't you
going to go after her?"
Logan gave it a moment's thought, knowing the express
elevator would already be spiriting Max down to the
ground floor, where he would be unable to catch up
with her. "No," he said. "I'll take care of it
later." He returned his attention to Gretchen. "Why
are you here?"
"I've come into some information about a secret
government project," she said. "The kind of
information that is generally life-threatening in
this day and age. It's also something the public
needs to know about. You're the one who can tell
them."
"Are you sure you want to put yourself on the line
like this?" he asked her. "It's perfectly acceptable
to walk away." He'd watched plenty of people do it,
put their safety first.
"Not to me, it isn't," she said and he felt himself
relax. Same old Gretchen.
_ _ _
"You're late," Normal said without looking up the
very second Max crossed the threshold.
She said nothing, continuing on a straight line to
her locker as she continued to puzzle over what she'd
seen at Logan's.
"And you didn't answer your pager," Normal added.
Max resisted the urge to show him a display of her
upraised middle finger and leaned against the cool
metal of the lockers, spinning the dial and listening
to the clicks as the tumblers fell into place before
yanking it open.
"Max," Normal continued.
She turned and glared at him. "On call," she said.
"On call means ready, willing and able to make
deliveries should the need arise. The need arose.
These have less than thirty minutes to make their
destination. Which is why you were on call."
"No sweat," Max said, slamming shut her locker and
putting on her baseball cap, backward as fashion
dictated. "Not like it's a matter of life and
death," she informed Normal as she paused at the
dispatch desk to shove the boxes piled there into her
backpack. They were cold to the touch. She glanced
at their labels. They were going to Metro Hospital.
"Thirty minutes," Normal repeated. Max rolled her
eyes and walked her bike out of the shop.
"Psst!" The sound came from the alley around the
corner. Max stopped and turned, breaking into a
smile at the sight of her friends kickin' it in the
alley. Break time came early today from the looks of
it.
"Normal mad you're late?" Sketchy asked as Original
Cindy broke off a piece of the sandwich she was
eating to share it with Max.
"Yeah, thanks for covering for me," Max responded.
"You're a real pal." She pushed the food into her
mouth. Not bad. She glanced at the stack of backpacks
tossed against the wall. "I thought we were all
working on some super-rush emergency dealio."
"Hunger emergency," Sketchy replied.
"And these fine things just happened to fall off the
lunch truck while it be stopped at the side o' the
road by the sector police," Herbal added, handing Max
another sandwich, this one wrapped in plastic.
"New client," Original Cindy explained to Max. "Lots
of money. Course none of it goes to us, so who really
cares if it gets there now or later? It'll get
there."
Max nodded.
"You look upset, Boo, what's wrong?" Original Cindy
asked.
Max shook her head.
"Man," Cindy diagnosed, saying the word as though it
was the very description of evil. She slung her arm
around Max's shoulders. "A girl would never break
your heart, sugar."
"Are you two gonna do it? Cause that would be cool to
watch --" Sketchy began, but Max shot him a look that
silenced him. He shrugged and moved off toward his
backpack, food finished and with no promise of
immediate entertainment. Then his face wrinkled and
he held the bag at arm's length. "Phew," he
commented, waving the air in front of his nose.
Max's pager went off. She made no move to look at it,
just continued chewing her food until the beeping
stopped.
"Mmm-hmm," Original Cindy commented. Max glanced at
her, waiting for the rest of the lecture. Thankfully,
it didn't follow.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Augh!" Max cried, ready to throw her pager on the
ground and stomp on it. Logan obviously had better
things to do, so why couldn't he just leave her
alone?
"Relax, it's mine," Sketchy said.
"When'd you get a pager?" Original Cindy demanded.
"Natalie likes knowing where I am," Sketchy said
proudly.
"Only cause she's not so sure 'bout where you been,"
Original Cindy retorted disgustedly.
"Gotta blaze," Sketchy said, climbing onto his bike.
"You'll cover for me, Max?" he called before he
rounded the corner and disappeared into traffic.
"Yeah, like he covered for me this morning. Jerk,"
Max said. She sighed and stretched. "Well, gainful
employment beckons." She rolled her eyes as she
shouldered her backpack, the contents of which were
still radiating cold through the material. She got on
her bike, as did Cindy and Herbal. The three of them
parted ways at the first intersection.
_ _ _
"Your safety will be assured," Logan promised
Gretchen, businesslike now. "I just need names and
dates, verifiable details."
Gretchen nodded and leaned over to withdraw a folder
from her bag, which she handed to Logan. He couldn't
help noticing the way her hair fell forward. He must
have looked a moment too long because she caught him
and smiled.
"Why did we break up, anyway?" she asked, sounding as
though she was feeling the same wistful yearning for
days gone by that he was at that moment.
"Wanted different things from life," he reminded her,
glancing through her notes. Everything seemed to be
on the up and up, documents interweaving bits of fact
to tell a story. "This is big," he said, looking at
a photo of the chief of staff at City Hospital.
Gretchen nodded distractedly in response.
"I'll need some time to check this out. Do you have a
safe place to stay?"
"My apartment." Gretchen stopped herself and let out
a strangled laugh. "I guess that's not really safe,
though, is it, once this hits the air. They're going
to know it was me. I was the only one with access to
the files."
Logan nodded calmly. "There's still some time before
that happens. Why don't you go home. Gather up your
things. You can stay here tonight."
Gretchen looked grateful and he wondered why that
made him feel ashamed.
"Is there anyone who'll be worried about you?
Boyfriend, husband...?"
"No," Gretchen answered softly, looking away. A
moment later she confirmed it, her voice stronger.
"No, there's just me."
"Why don't you meet me here around 8 o'clock? That
will give me time to do what I need to do."
Gretchen nodded and got up from the couch, slinging
her bag over her shoulder. "Thank you," she said.
"Don't mention it." They shared a look for another
long moment, and then she left. Logan paged through
the file and reached for the phone to call Max.
_ _ _
Max's pager went off while she was standing on the
delivery dock at Metro Medical, waiting for someone
to sign for her packages. She sighed and didn't look
at it, figuring it was Logan, but she really didn't
feel like talking to him. Jumping every time he
called.
Sounds like jealousy, girlfriend. Max scrunched her
nose. Since when had the warning voice in her head
taken on Original Cindy's tone? But good advice was
good advice.
She stared down at the boxes she held in her hands.
They were still cold to the touch, although warmer
now. Wrapped in brown paper, marked with a bar code.
She traced the ones and zeroes, wondering what was so
important it would be coded before sent by a bike
messenger like herself. She wondered if they knew
what they were dealing with when they contracted with
Jam Pony. Wouldn't something so important be sent by
car courier? Less chance of being dropped or falling
off a bike.
"Can I help you?"
"Jam Pony messenger. Sign here." Max held out the
delivery documents she needed to have signed and the
worker in the white lab coat scrawled a signature
before picking up the boxes. Max started to walk
away, but then paused, curiosity getting the best of
her. "What's in there?" she asked.
"Nothing," the hospital worker snapped, turning away
and slamming the door. But Max saw how protectively
he held that box before the door slammed.
_ _ _
Logan was working the system, digging for
information. Sometimes it wasn't so forthcoming. He
could really use Max's help, but she wasn't calling
him back. Wasn't like her, even if she had seen that
momentary whatever it was with Gretchen, even if he
and Max had some similar undefinable whatever between
them.
Undefinable whatever. Great. He was regressing back
to childhood. Next he'd be asking Bling for his
cootie shot.
Meanwhile, he'd found no pattern of bribery
concerning the chief of staff at City Hospital. He
had, however, found large amounts of supplies that
were unaccounted for, and the chief of staff had
links to a bank account in Switzerland. Always a good
idea, Logan thought. Switzerland had been unaffected
by the Pulse in '09 - all those criminals remained
rich while the regular hardworking folk lost
everything.
Did it add up to the picture Gretchen painted? Logan
wasn't sure. A call back from Max would have helped,
but he couldn't count on that. Was the information
urgent enough to take it to the airwaves without
absolute verification?
Logan flipped through the file, which included the
mortality rates at City Hospital. They'd risen in the
months since the supplies had begun to be
interrupted, which made sense. No supplies, no
survival. Taking it to the airwaves could save
somebody's life. And when it came down to it, that
was the only thing Logan cared about.
He clicked open the programs and booted up the
equipment he used for his video hack, rolling up his
sleeves to get started.
_ _ _
Max leaned against the brick facade of the delivery
area once the door had closed, looking at the display
on her pager. Logan. Course now he'd given up, since
she had a couple minutes. Typical, she thought,
putting it out of her mind and looking back up at the
hospital.
It'd be an easy walk up the bricks, and she could see
the file room was unattended up on the fourth floor.
Why they'd chose to have a window in a confidential
file room, Max didn't know. Maybe they didn't expect
any supersoldiers with keen eyesight to go looking in
them.
She wanted to know more about the man who'd died that
morning, with organs missing and a bar code stamped
on his neck. She had to know. And there was only one
good starting place to find out. Max looked right and
left, but the alley was deserted.
It would have been better if she'd had a safety rope,
but hey, she was the kind of girl who liked to live
dangerously. They'd even left the window open for
her...wasn't that sweet of them. Max pulled herself
through the opening and stepped into the file room.
She looked around, wondering how she'd find the
information on the dead guy. Under "d" for dead guy,
perhaps? But then she saw an avalanche of folders on
top of the cabinet nearest the door. Where a harried
nurse or clerk could easily dump the day's work
without having to even step inside. Bulls' eye.
Max only had to flip through a couple of files before
she found the one she wanted. She was mesmerized for
a second, looking at the police photographs of the
man's fatal injuries. Maybe Logan's detective friend
would know something, but probably not. Cops were too
busy harassing innocent citizens and keeping the
world safe for the well to do.
Max heard a sound and turned. It was coming from the
street...where she'd left her bike. She frowned and
leaned out through the window. A couple of street
thugs were down there and she could see the intent to
steal was on their minds. "Hey! What're you doing
down there?!" Max yelled.
The thugs looked up at her, but seeing a woman four
stories up wasn't enough to keep them from taking
transportation they could fence for at least $50 on
the black market. And Max didn't want to go combing
the marketplace and paying $50 for her own damn bike.
One of them split the lock and the other grinned up
at her, and that's when she jumped out the window.
Max landed on her feet, of course - cats always do.
"Hey boys," she said seductively, waving at one while
she introduced the other to the bottom of her foot in
his face. As he tumbled backward, the other one stood
there blinking and stunned. Max punched him and sent
him careening back into the wall of the hospital. Her
bike free and clear, she shook off the snapped lock
cable and hopped on, pedaling away.
She looked over her shoulder and saw the two guys
picking themselves up, trying to figure out what had
hit them and from what direction. She waved back at
them and smiled as she pedaled harder back toward Jam
Pony.
_ _ _
A man wandered into the bike messenger shop, looking
confused, gingerly holding a package between his
hands. The look on his face was sour, confused.
Normal noticed him. "May I help you, sir?" he asked,
a sarcastic edge to his voice. This was not the kind
of guy who belonged in his place of business.
The man set the box on the counter in front of
Normal. Only half a second passed before Normal
inhaled and then jumped back in horror at the stench
emanating from the box, which was leaving a wet spot
on his counter. The man looked at him. "I think this
is one of your packages," he said.
Normal's face fell, because he hoped not, except
there it was, the tracking sticker, right there on
top. Worse, this was one of the rush packages that
was supposed to have been delivered for their new
client more than two hours ago. The man just looked
at him. "What do you want? A medal?" Normal demanded
and shooed him away.
Max sailed in on her bike at that moment, dismounting
and then waving her hands in front of her face. "You
forget to shower or something, Normal?" she inquired.
"Maybe the men's toilet's backed up again," Original
Cindy suggested. The stench was drawing a crowd of
messengers.
Normal looked upset, like it was all too much for him
and he was going to cry. "Sketchy!" he yelled. "Where
the hell is that doofus?"
He wasn't in the crowd. Max and Original Cindy each
shrugged. Last time they'd seen him, he'd been headed
for home. And dumped his backpack in the alley.
"This was supposed to be delivered two hours ago!"
Normal yelled, and the messengers began to wander
away from the desk. None of them wanted to be
assigned to deliver the stinky package.
"Whatever be in that package, mon, it be evilness.
That why the new client offer you such money to be
delivering --"
"Shut up, Herbal," Normal said, pulling an antiquated
can of Lysol from behind the counter and spraying it
liberally toward the package. It didn't help.
Herbal just looked at him, and at the box.
"None of your business," Normal informed him.
Herbal shrugged and moved away. Quickly.
"Max!" Normal bellowed, but the entire space around
him was still and empty.
"...is an Eyes Only information bulletin...cannot be
bought or threatened."
All the messengers were predictably glued to the
television in the back, as they always were when this
Eyes Only jerk came on. "On the clock people!"
Normal scurried over there to remind them, but no one
moved. He didn't head back to his desk because the
stinky package was there.
"More than 100 people have died in the last month at
City Hospital," Eyes Only reported.
Max tried not to look too interested. At the same
time, she tried not to look too disinterested. Why
couldn't anyone else guess it was Logan? Maybe
because they weren't able to separate his voice from
the tones added by the disguiser, much the same way
they couldn't identify the numbers on a tone-dialing
telephone. Maybe no one had ever looked closely
enough to recognize those eyes.
"In the same period of time, a large amount of
bandages, pain killers, surgical anesthesia and other
medical accoutrements have disappeared inexplicably
from the stock at City Hospital."
"Hey, Normal, what's 'accoutrements' mean?"
There was no reply. Max almost snickered to herself.
Normal didn't know either.
"And this man - Roger Salter, chief of staff at City
Hospital -" The man's picture flashed on the screen,
joining a small picture of bandages and rubbing
alcohol and another picture of City Hospital, just to
make a point. Too bad the entertainment industry had
been replaced by government-run news channels; Logan
might've had a career as a music video director. "Has
made considerable investments in his private Swiss
bank account. If this man is stealing lives and
trading them for money, he must be stopped..."
If? Max thought, wondering if anyone else had noticed
it. no one had, they were all glued to the screen.
She would have to remember to ask Logan if he put
some kind of subliminal marker in his broadcasts that
made them so impossible not to watch. Even though she
knew it wasn't his style, he might get a kick out of
the backhanded compliment.
A crackle of static, and a new picture overtook the
screen. A rustle of surprise went through the
messengers gathered in front of the TV. A stern,
deeply computerized voice announced, "Eyes Only is
lying to you."
_ _ _
Back in his apartment, Logan realized his feed had
gone dead. Feeling surprise and panic, he adjusted
everything, but he couldn't get it back. He'd been
cut off - bumped off - hacked himself.
"Hey, Logan, you've got to come see this," Bling's
voice came from the other room, where the television
was.
Logan wheeled out and saw Bling standing in front of
the TV, a cleaning apron fastened around his hips,
plastic gloves on his hands. Logan turned and looked
at the television, shocked by what he saw.
A figure in shadow, ungendered, with no identifying
features except for the dark black mask over the
person's eyes. The voice coming from the speakers was
equally neutral, computerized, featureless. And it
was calling him a liar.
"Eyes Only has been wrong about several things. His
actions have lead to the deaths of several prominent
Seattle citizens. While he accuses Roger Salter of
murdering his patients by stealing from them,
consider a snowstorm in the Midwest, delaying a train
bound for Seattle. On this train? Medical supplies.
Salter's bank account records."
The document flashed on the screen. Logan cringed to
see it.
"One large lump-sum deposit. The source? A wealthy
client thanking Salter for saving his life."
The black mask turned to the camera, which zoomed in
on the cloth covering the hacker's eyes. "Do not
trust the eyes. Trust the Outlaw!"
With a flourish and a snap of static, the state-run
news resumed as the cable hack ended.
_ _ _
"So Eyes Only was on the take. Just like everybody
else," Original Cindy said to Max. "Should have
known, so why do I feel so disappointed?"
Max shrugged. She felt strange and light-headed.
Logan, a liar? Responsible for deaths...she knew
about those deaths. She'd had a hand in some of them
herself. Now she didn't know...
"You okay, Boo?" Cindy asked.
"Yeah. I think the stench is getting to me," Max said
woodenly, returning to Normal's desk. There was a
box knife in his supply tray and she flicked the
blade up. Normal saw her from across the room but was
moving too slowly to stop her as she leaned up over
the counter and stabbed the putrid box, dragging the
knife until the box split, exposing the contents.
Nestled inside dry ice that was quickly evaporating
was a big, purple, human heart.
"Is that what I think it is?" Original Cindy asked,
turning away.
"Gross!" Sketchy arrived to say, in a way that
indicated he thought what he was looking at was
completely gnarly.
Max just looked at Normal, waiting for an
explanation. Normal didn't have one. He fainted
instead.
_ _ _
he walked through the halls. "It's amazing he's held
on this long. Maybe he was waiting for you to come."
The words were like a knife, because she wasn't
actually the man's wife. And maybe there was someone
at home who didn't know. Someone the man was actually
clinging to life in order to see again, one last
time. "What's wrong with him?" Max asked.
The doctor stopped outside a door marked "No Entry."
Max noted the security lock on the door, frowning at
it. "You need to prepare yourself," he told her.
"Why?" Max asked, then remembered she was supposed to
be playing the grieving, worried wife rather than the
revved up soldier girl. "What did they do to him?"
"Your husband has been badly beaten. Beyond
badly...The bones of his face are shattered. And the
other things they did..." The doctor trailed off as
though it was difficult to find the words. "I
ordinarily wouldn't let you go in there, except I
think he has been waiting for you. Waiting to see you
again, before he dies. And he should die." The doctor
found her eyes again. "I'm sorry, but it would be the
most merciful thing."
Max felt sick. There was no mercy in death.
After a moment, the doctor looked away from her,
clearing his throat and then speaking detachedly.
"Both his eyes are gone, one of his legs was severed.
His chest is an open wound, part of his lungs have
been destroyed --" He paused and looked at her,
taking in the shock on her face, and closed his
mouth. "I'll let you say goodbye."
He pressed the code into the security pad on the door
and Max instantly memorized the tones before she
stepped inside.
The room smelled like death. She glanced behind and
saw the doctor standing in the hall. He nodded, and
closed the door. She was alone with the man. The
doctor hadn't been kidding; the guy was already dead
even as he struggled for breath. Max frowned,
wondering who would have done such a horrible thing.
His face was a mass of pulp. Blunt force trauma, Max
thought, but that wouldn't account for what the doc
had said about his eyes being gone. There was too
much swelling for her to tell for sure. Something
wasn't right about this.
She moved closer and the man startled, choking
slightly. Coming into what must have been a painful
and terrible consciousness. "It's okay, I'm here,"
she said, knowing it wasn't her voice he'd been
hoping to hear. She touched him lightly, turning him
so she could see the mark at the back of his neck.
Something about it didn't look right. Didn't look
Manticore. Although what did she know, she hadn't
exactly spent a lot of time recently checking out the
back of her own neck in the mirror. She memorized the
sequence of numbers and the bar pattern. Manticore
was the only thing that made sense, considering what
had been done to this guy. Obviously someone wanted
what Lydecker referred to as "the technology" so
badly they were willing to steal it, piece by piece.
Sickened, Max began to turn away, but the dying man
reached for her, like a child asking for comfort. Her
heart hardened and she stopped, touching his hand. He
might have been one of her siblings, and if he was
one of her siblings it might have just as easily been
her lying in that bed with pieces of her missing.
When he reached for her blindly, she took his hand
and stood there until the last gasping breath faded
from his body.
_ _ _
"What are you talking about?" Logan asked, finally
finding words through his stunned fog. No one knew
about his secret life as Eyes Only. No one except
Max. Not even Bling. And it had to be that way, or he
was going to end up with more than a blasted-out
spine to worry about.
Gretchen looked at him, her expression almost amused.
"Come on, Logan. You know I never forget a face."
He just looked at her, feeling the pounding pulse of
his heart in his chest. He should be making excuses,
he thought.
"Did you really think these were enough to hide your
identity?" she continued, her voice turning soft. He
looked at her curiously, recognizing the cadence of
her voice across the years, as she reached out with
one gentle hand and removed the glasses resting
against the bridge of his nose.
He blinked to bring her now-softened image into
focus. He really was nearsighted - it wasn't all fun
and disguises.
"The only question really," Gretchen continued
softly, setting his glasses on a nearby table, "is
why."
Why was definitely the question, Logan thought, as
Gretchen did what she'd always done after removing
his glasses, which was press her lips against his.
"Hey Logan, you were right, something weird is
definitely going on with -- oh."
Max's voice. Max. Damn, Logan thought, fumbling to
bring himself back to his senses, one hand flailing
out for his glasses, the other moving to give
Gretchen a not-so-subtle push away. Of course in his
flustered state, his hand landed directly on her
breast, which wasn't exactly the encouragement to
leave him alone that he'd intended it to be.
"Um, sorry," Gretchen said, her tone flat as she
yanked down the hem of her shirt, moving to sit
further back on the couch. She looked as perplexed as
he felt.
"Max -" Logan said, turning, but all he saw was the
door being pulled closed.
"I shouldn't have done that," Gretchen admitted, and
Logan was surprised to see her eyes were wide with
something like nervousness or fear. That would be a
new personality addition, he thought. "Aren't you
going to go after her?"
Logan gave it a moment's thought, knowing the express
elevator would already be spiriting Max down to the
ground floor, where he would be unable to catch up
with her. "No," he said. "I'll take care of it
later." He returned his attention to Gretchen. "Why
are you here?"
"I've come into some information about a secret
government project," she said. "The kind of
information that is generally life-threatening in
this day and age. It's also something the public
needs to know about. You're the one who can tell
them."
"Are you sure you want to put yourself on the line
like this?" he asked her. "It's perfectly acceptable
to walk away." He'd watched plenty of people do it,
put their safety first.
"Not to me, it isn't," she said and he felt himself
relax. Same old Gretchen.
_ _ _
"You're late," Normal said without looking up the
very second Max crossed the threshold.
She said nothing, continuing on a straight line to
her locker as she continued to puzzle over what she'd
seen at Logan's.
"And you didn't answer your pager," Normal added.
Max resisted the urge to show him a display of her
upraised middle finger and leaned against the cool
metal of the lockers, spinning the dial and listening
to the clicks as the tumblers fell into place before
yanking it open.
"Max," Normal continued.
She turned and glared at him. "On call," she said.
"On call means ready, willing and able to make
deliveries should the need arise. The need arose.
These have less than thirty minutes to make their
destination. Which is why you were on call."
"No sweat," Max said, slamming shut her locker and
putting on her baseball cap, backward as fashion
dictated. "Not like it's a matter of life and
death," she informed Normal as she paused at the
dispatch desk to shove the boxes piled there into her
backpack. They were cold to the touch. She glanced
at their labels. They were going to Metro Hospital.
"Thirty minutes," Normal repeated. Max rolled her
eyes and walked her bike out of the shop.
"Psst!" The sound came from the alley around the
corner. Max stopped and turned, breaking into a
smile at the sight of her friends kickin' it in the
alley. Break time came early today from the looks of
it.
"Normal mad you're late?" Sketchy asked as Original
Cindy broke off a piece of the sandwich she was
eating to share it with Max.
"Yeah, thanks for covering for me," Max responded.
"You're a real pal." She pushed the food into her
mouth. Not bad. She glanced at the stack of backpacks
tossed against the wall. "I thought we were all
working on some super-rush emergency dealio."
"Hunger emergency," Sketchy replied.
"And these fine things just happened to fall off the
lunch truck while it be stopped at the side o' the
road by the sector police," Herbal added, handing Max
another sandwich, this one wrapped in plastic.
"New client," Original Cindy explained to Max. "Lots
of money. Course none of it goes to us, so who really
cares if it gets there now or later? It'll get
there."
Max nodded.
"You look upset, Boo, what's wrong?" Original Cindy
asked.
Max shook her head.
"Man," Cindy diagnosed, saying the word as though it
was the very description of evil. She slung her arm
around Max's shoulders. "A girl would never break
your heart, sugar."
"Are you two gonna do it? Cause that would be cool to
watch --" Sketchy began, but Max shot him a look that
silenced him. He shrugged and moved off toward his
backpack, food finished and with no promise of
immediate entertainment. Then his face wrinkled and
he held the bag at arm's length. "Phew," he
commented, waving the air in front of his nose.
Max's pager went off. She made no move to look at it,
just continued chewing her food until the beeping
stopped.
"Mmm-hmm," Original Cindy commented. Max glanced at
her, waiting for the rest of the lecture. Thankfully,
it didn't follow.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Augh!" Max cried, ready to throw her pager on the
ground and stomp on it. Logan obviously had better
things to do, so why couldn't he just leave her
alone?
"Relax, it's mine," Sketchy said.
"When'd you get a pager?" Original Cindy demanded.
"Natalie likes knowing where I am," Sketchy said
proudly.
"Only cause she's not so sure 'bout where you been,"
Original Cindy retorted disgustedly.
"Gotta blaze," Sketchy said, climbing onto his bike.
"You'll cover for me, Max?" he called before he
rounded the corner and disappeared into traffic.
"Yeah, like he covered for me this morning. Jerk,"
Max said. She sighed and stretched. "Well, gainful
employment beckons." She rolled her eyes as she
shouldered her backpack, the contents of which were
still radiating cold through the material. She got on
her bike, as did Cindy and Herbal. The three of them
parted ways at the first intersection.
_ _ _
"Your safety will be assured," Logan promised
Gretchen, businesslike now. "I just need names and
dates, verifiable details."
Gretchen nodded and leaned over to withdraw a folder
from her bag, which she handed to Logan. He couldn't
help noticing the way her hair fell forward. He must
have looked a moment too long because she caught him
and smiled.
"Why did we break up, anyway?" she asked, sounding as
though she was feeling the same wistful yearning for
days gone by that he was at that moment.
"Wanted different things from life," he reminded her,
glancing through her notes. Everything seemed to be
on the up and up, documents interweaving bits of fact
to tell a story. "This is big," he said, looking at
a photo of the chief of staff at City Hospital.
Gretchen nodded distractedly in response.
"I'll need some time to check this out. Do you have a
safe place to stay?"
"My apartment." Gretchen stopped herself and let out
a strangled laugh. "I guess that's not really safe,
though, is it, once this hits the air. They're going
to know it was me. I was the only one with access to
the files."
Logan nodded calmly. "There's still some time before
that happens. Why don't you go home. Gather up your
things. You can stay here tonight."
Gretchen looked grateful and he wondered why that
made him feel ashamed.
"Is there anyone who'll be worried about you?
Boyfriend, husband...?"
"No," Gretchen answered softly, looking away. A
moment later she confirmed it, her voice stronger.
"No, there's just me."
"Why don't you meet me here around 8 o'clock? That
will give me time to do what I need to do."
Gretchen nodded and got up from the couch, slinging
her bag over her shoulder. "Thank you," she said.
"Don't mention it." They shared a look for another
long moment, and then she left. Logan paged through
the file and reached for the phone to call Max.
_ _ _
Max's pager went off while she was standing on the
delivery dock at Metro Medical, waiting for someone
to sign for her packages. She sighed and didn't look
at it, figuring it was Logan, but she really didn't
feel like talking to him. Jumping every time he
called.
Sounds like jealousy, girlfriend. Max scrunched her
nose. Since when had the warning voice in her head
taken on Original Cindy's tone? But good advice was
good advice.
She stared down at the boxes she held in her hands.
They were still cold to the touch, although warmer
now. Wrapped in brown paper, marked with a bar code.
She traced the ones and zeroes, wondering what was so
important it would be coded before sent by a bike
messenger like herself. She wondered if they knew
what they were dealing with when they contracted with
Jam Pony. Wouldn't something so important be sent by
car courier? Less chance of being dropped or falling
off a bike.
"Can I help you?"
"Jam Pony messenger. Sign here." Max held out the
delivery documents she needed to have signed and the
worker in the white lab coat scrawled a signature
before picking up the boxes. Max started to walk
away, but then paused, curiosity getting the best of
her. "What's in there?" she asked.
"Nothing," the hospital worker snapped, turning away
and slamming the door. But Max saw how protectively
he held that box before the door slammed.
_ _ _
Logan was working the system, digging for
information. Sometimes it wasn't so forthcoming. He
could really use Max's help, but she wasn't calling
him back. Wasn't like her, even if she had seen that
momentary whatever it was with Gretchen, even if he
and Max had some similar undefinable whatever between
them.
Undefinable whatever. Great. He was regressing back
to childhood. Next he'd be asking Bling for his
cootie shot.
Meanwhile, he'd found no pattern of bribery
concerning the chief of staff at City Hospital. He
had, however, found large amounts of supplies that
were unaccounted for, and the chief of staff had
links to a bank account in Switzerland. Always a good
idea, Logan thought. Switzerland had been unaffected
by the Pulse in '09 - all those criminals remained
rich while the regular hardworking folk lost
everything.
Did it add up to the picture Gretchen painted? Logan
wasn't sure. A call back from Max would have helped,
but he couldn't count on that. Was the information
urgent enough to take it to the airwaves without
absolute verification?
Logan flipped through the file, which included the
mortality rates at City Hospital. They'd risen in the
months since the supplies had begun to be
interrupted, which made sense. No supplies, no
survival. Taking it to the airwaves could save
somebody's life. And when it came down to it, that
was the only thing Logan cared about.
He clicked open the programs and booted up the
equipment he used for his video hack, rolling up his
sleeves to get started.
_ _ _
Max leaned against the brick facade of the delivery
area once the door had closed, looking at the display
on her pager. Logan. Course now he'd given up, since
she had a couple minutes. Typical, she thought,
putting it out of her mind and looking back up at the
hospital.
It'd be an easy walk up the bricks, and she could see
the file room was unattended up on the fourth floor.
Why they'd chose to have a window in a confidential
file room, Max didn't know. Maybe they didn't expect
any supersoldiers with keen eyesight to go looking in
them.
She wanted to know more about the man who'd died that
morning, with organs missing and a bar code stamped
on his neck. She had to know. And there was only one
good starting place to find out. Max looked right and
left, but the alley was deserted.
It would have been better if she'd had a safety rope,
but hey, she was the kind of girl who liked to live
dangerously. They'd even left the window open for
her...wasn't that sweet of them. Max pulled herself
through the opening and stepped into the file room.
She looked around, wondering how she'd find the
information on the dead guy. Under "d" for dead guy,
perhaps? But then she saw an avalanche of folders on
top of the cabinet nearest the door. Where a harried
nurse or clerk could easily dump the day's work
without having to even step inside. Bulls' eye.
Max only had to flip through a couple of files before
she found the one she wanted. She was mesmerized for
a second, looking at the police photographs of the
man's fatal injuries. Maybe Logan's detective friend
would know something, but probably not. Cops were too
busy harassing innocent citizens and keeping the
world safe for the well to do.
Max heard a sound and turned. It was coming from the
street...where she'd left her bike. She frowned and
leaned out through the window. A couple of street
thugs were down there and she could see the intent to
steal was on their minds. "Hey! What're you doing
down there?!" Max yelled.
The thugs looked up at her, but seeing a woman four
stories up wasn't enough to keep them from taking
transportation they could fence for at least $50 on
the black market. And Max didn't want to go combing
the marketplace and paying $50 for her own damn bike.
One of them split the lock and the other grinned up
at her, and that's when she jumped out the window.
Max landed on her feet, of course - cats always do.
"Hey boys," she said seductively, waving at one while
she introduced the other to the bottom of her foot in
his face. As he tumbled backward, the other one stood
there blinking and stunned. Max punched him and sent
him careening back into the wall of the hospital. Her
bike free and clear, she shook off the snapped lock
cable and hopped on, pedaling away.
She looked over her shoulder and saw the two guys
picking themselves up, trying to figure out what had
hit them and from what direction. She waved back at
them and smiled as she pedaled harder back toward Jam
Pony.
_ _ _
A man wandered into the bike messenger shop, looking
confused, gingerly holding a package between his
hands. The look on his face was sour, confused.
Normal noticed him. "May I help you, sir?" he asked,
a sarcastic edge to his voice. This was not the kind
of guy who belonged in his place of business.
The man set the box on the counter in front of
Normal. Only half a second passed before Normal
inhaled and then jumped back in horror at the stench
emanating from the box, which was leaving a wet spot
on his counter. The man looked at him. "I think this
is one of your packages," he said.
Normal's face fell, because he hoped not, except
there it was, the tracking sticker, right there on
top. Worse, this was one of the rush packages that
was supposed to have been delivered for their new
client more than two hours ago. The man just looked
at him. "What do you want? A medal?" Normal demanded
and shooed him away.
Max sailed in on her bike at that moment, dismounting
and then waving her hands in front of her face. "You
forget to shower or something, Normal?" she inquired.
"Maybe the men's toilet's backed up again," Original
Cindy suggested. The stench was drawing a crowd of
messengers.
Normal looked upset, like it was all too much for him
and he was going to cry. "Sketchy!" he yelled. "Where
the hell is that doofus?"
He wasn't in the crowd. Max and Original Cindy each
shrugged. Last time they'd seen him, he'd been headed
for home. And dumped his backpack in the alley.
"This was supposed to be delivered two hours ago!"
Normal yelled, and the messengers began to wander
away from the desk. None of them wanted to be
assigned to deliver the stinky package.
"Whatever be in that package, mon, it be evilness.
That why the new client offer you such money to be
delivering --"
"Shut up, Herbal," Normal said, pulling an antiquated
can of Lysol from behind the counter and spraying it
liberally toward the package. It didn't help.
Herbal just looked at him, and at the box.
"None of your business," Normal informed him.
Herbal shrugged and moved away. Quickly.
"Max!" Normal bellowed, but the entire space around
him was still and empty.
"...is an Eyes Only information bulletin...cannot be
bought or threatened."
All the messengers were predictably glued to the
television in the back, as they always were when this
Eyes Only jerk came on. "On the clock people!"
Normal scurried over there to remind them, but no one
moved. He didn't head back to his desk because the
stinky package was there.
"More than 100 people have died in the last month at
City Hospital," Eyes Only reported.
Max tried not to look too interested. At the same
time, she tried not to look too disinterested. Why
couldn't anyone else guess it was Logan? Maybe
because they weren't able to separate his voice from
the tones added by the disguiser, much the same way
they couldn't identify the numbers on a tone-dialing
telephone. Maybe no one had ever looked closely
enough to recognize those eyes.
"In the same period of time, a large amount of
bandages, pain killers, surgical anesthesia and other
medical accoutrements have disappeared inexplicably
from the stock at City Hospital."
"Hey, Normal, what's 'accoutrements' mean?"
There was no reply. Max almost snickered to herself.
Normal didn't know either.
"And this man - Roger Salter, chief of staff at City
Hospital -" The man's picture flashed on the screen,
joining a small picture of bandages and rubbing
alcohol and another picture of City Hospital, just to
make a point. Too bad the entertainment industry had
been replaced by government-run news channels; Logan
might've had a career as a music video director. "Has
made considerable investments in his private Swiss
bank account. If this man is stealing lives and
trading them for money, he must be stopped..."
If? Max thought, wondering if anyone else had noticed
it. no one had, they were all glued to the screen.
She would have to remember to ask Logan if he put
some kind of subliminal marker in his broadcasts that
made them so impossible not to watch. Even though she
knew it wasn't his style, he might get a kick out of
the backhanded compliment.
A crackle of static, and a new picture overtook the
screen. A rustle of surprise went through the
messengers gathered in front of the TV. A stern,
deeply computerized voice announced, "Eyes Only is
lying to you."
_ _ _
Back in his apartment, Logan realized his feed had
gone dead. Feeling surprise and panic, he adjusted
everything, but he couldn't get it back. He'd been
cut off - bumped off - hacked himself.
"Hey, Logan, you've got to come see this," Bling's
voice came from the other room, where the television
was.
Logan wheeled out and saw Bling standing in front of
the TV, a cleaning apron fastened around his hips,
plastic gloves on his hands. Logan turned and looked
at the television, shocked by what he saw.
A figure in shadow, ungendered, with no identifying
features except for the dark black mask over the
person's eyes. The voice coming from the speakers was
equally neutral, computerized, featureless. And it
was calling him a liar.
"Eyes Only has been wrong about several things. His
actions have lead to the deaths of several prominent
Seattle citizens. While he accuses Roger Salter of
murdering his patients by stealing from them,
consider a snowstorm in the Midwest, delaying a train
bound for Seattle. On this train? Medical supplies.
Salter's bank account records."
The document flashed on the screen. Logan cringed to
see it.
"One large lump-sum deposit. The source? A wealthy
client thanking Salter for saving his life."
The black mask turned to the camera, which zoomed in
on the cloth covering the hacker's eyes. "Do not
trust the eyes. Trust the Outlaw!"
With a flourish and a snap of static, the state-run
news resumed as the cable hack ended.
_ _ _
"So Eyes Only was on the take. Just like everybody
else," Original Cindy said to Max. "Should have
known, so why do I feel so disappointed?"
Max shrugged. She felt strange and light-headed.
Logan, a liar? Responsible for deaths...she knew
about those deaths. She'd had a hand in some of them
herself. Now she didn't know...
"You okay, Boo?" Cindy asked.
"Yeah. I think the stench is getting to me," Max said
woodenly, returning to Normal's desk. There was a
box knife in his supply tray and she flicked the
blade up. Normal saw her from across the room but was
moving too slowly to stop her as she leaned up over
the counter and stabbed the putrid box, dragging the
knife until the box split, exposing the contents.
Nestled inside dry ice that was quickly evaporating
was a big, purple, human heart.
"Is that what I think it is?" Original Cindy asked,
turning away.
"Gross!" Sketchy arrived to say, in a way that
indicated he thought what he was looking at was
completely gnarly.
Max just looked at Normal, waiting for an
explanation. Normal didn't have one. He fainted
instead.
_ _ _