Chapter 7
At ninety minutes after Charrascos had booted him out of her office, Renner’s percomp pinged with a summons to the first-floor security suite to meet Novo G’s Security Chief Devanesh, who’d been unavailable earlier in the day.
He had the feeling Charrascos was going to terminate their contract that evening. He should have been relieved, because the vigilance that security work required brought back post-traumatic stress memories and nightmares that fractured his sleep.
Instead, he was trying to marshal arguments as to why he should stay.
After overhearing some of Charrascos’s discussions with her colleagues, he’d begun to realize how many powerful enemies she’d made. Especially the CPS.
Part of Dixon Davidro’s job had been to neutralize or flatline troublesome people like Charrascos, and he’d sent enforcers like Renner to do it. She was in more danger than she knew.
Equally importantly, her stories exposing the CPS’s rotting black heart had galactic reach and inflicted consequential damage. Much better vengeance than sabotaging one sodding CPS base in one sodden city.
During his scouting of the building, he’d used his eyes and subtle talent to test Novo Granica’s physical security.
He was gratified to discover overlapping, multi-layered protections, both overt and disguised.
No single system failure would leave them deaf or blind, unless multiple people were corrupted and paid off.
The thick walls suggested armored denscrete, just like pharma labs and military bases.
It made sense. If Charrascos was any indication, Novo G’s cadre of investigative journalists generated ever-renewing legions of enemies.
At the security suite’s checkpoint, a uniformed guard pointed the way into an austere office.
Devanesh stood in the middle of the room, arms clasped behind her in a classic military at-rest pose.
The whippet-thin woman was dressed in a crisp black long coat and pants.
Because this was Ridderth, with a bodyshop on every block, she could be anywhere from thirty to one hundred sixty.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Brenner.” She nodded slightly. “I’ll cut to the core. Your public records are thin. How did Charrascos find you?”
He’d like to know the answer to that himself, but she annoyingly wouldn’t tell him what had happened in the missing days. The medics warned her that it could skew the natural recovery of his memories. “I don’t know.”
He cautiously sent his talent out to get a better feel for the bristling array of security monitoring equipment in her office. It was tempting to glitch the dozens of irritating little cameras, but he wasn’t that stupid. Some of the equipment signatures he didn’t recognize warranted research.
Devanesh’s mouth tightened. “You don’t carry any weapons, so you’re probably another one of her minder rescue projects.” Disdain colored her tone. “I’ll need your biometrics and authorization to check your real background.” She leaned over her desk to grab a reader and thrust it at him.
A spike of anger urged him to tell her to suck a flux tube. Instead, he lifted his wrist to access his percomp.
“What are you doing?” demanded Devanesh.
“Pinging my employer.” On the visible holographic interface, he selected the ping ref with Charrascos’s name.
Devanesh’s expression soured. “Fine.” She tossed the reader back onto her desk. “Did she tell you how she got her previous security team killed?”
Rage stirred. Devanesh reminded him of his former boss, who regularly needled his staff, probing for secrets and weaknesses to exploit. Devanesh wasn’t nearly as good at it.
He kept his face still as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Charrascos’s teasing remark about not zapping Devanesh had apparently been more serious than he’d given her credit for.
Devanesh waited long seconds, then shook her head with a look of disgust. “It’s your cremation.
” She grabbed a security clip and slapped it on the corner of her desk.
“Wear this everywhere in our perimeter. Leave your visitor clip with my assistant after she gets you in the system.” She waved open the door and gave him an icy glare. “Stay out of the restricted areas.”
After attaching the clip to his tunic, he walked out of the security suite, stopping only to hand off the visitor clip and let the assistant collect access biometrics.
He found the building’s stairs and started climbing, riding out the adrenaline flow that made him want to punch something or burn out all the security devices in the stairwell.
After two upward flights, he concluded Devanesh had been testing him. She was probably already reviewing the holos she’d recorded, looking for micro expressions and body-language indicators. It was the tech equivalent of using a sifter or a telepath to check for lies and motives.
He didn’t know what, if anything, he’d revealed. He hadn’t lied, and his personal agenda was his own fucking business. Devanesh was probably good at her job, but he hated ratshit games.
He climbed to the tenth floor and parked himself at one of the community tables to wait out the rest of his exile. Luckily, no one stopped to talk.
After examining the security clip with his talent to make sure he could neutralize it at will, he spent his time thinking about where to put the monitoring sensors in the gated complex that contained Charrascos’s townhouse.
In his old life, he used to consider it a victory when Davidro kicked him out of the room.
Being banished by Charrascos felt like he’d somehow failed her already.
When it was time to go back to her claimed space, he discovered it was instead occupied by one of the myriad interns he’d met that day. The intern barely glanced his way and pointed upward. “Roof.”
Renner frowned, remembering the landscaped roof wasn’t as protected as the building. She should have called him to go with her. Belatedly, he thought to check his messages and discovered a ping from her had arrived fifteen minutes ago.
He found her standing barely under the canopy’s extended edge, head tilted up toward the roiling clouds over the skyline. The Novo G building was the same height as the neighboring buildings, but taller buildings to the north towered over them like giant glass-and-novasteel cliffs.
A gust of wind whipped her scarf until she caught it and stuffed it into the hood of her raincoat. Her backpack hung from one shoulder.
He was surprised to see three people just vacating the mismatched chairs that dotted Novo G’s rooftop patio. In his eyes, the cold, wet roof was better than the melée below, but he wasn’t a journalist. Charrascos’s brief ping hadn’t explained why she’d gone to the roof.
He crossed to stand next to her. They were now alone with the wind.
Eleven stories above, a public sky skimmer glided past, full of people and bright and noisy, blaring a non-stop advertising track.
Air traffic was already picking up for the evening shift change.
He hoped she wanted to go back to the townhouse.
He’d reached the limit of his sociability for the day.
For once, she didn’t tease him, so he stood and waited.
Devanesh’s sharp questions had him examining his real reasons for agreeing to be Charrascos’s bodyguard, even though he’d sworn off that kind of work.
He’d spent nineteen years of his life avoiding looking inward because of the horrific bargains he’d made to stay alive, but it had destroyed his compassion.
Then Neirra had worked her magic. Surviving the townhouse assault had given him a new lease on life, but it hadn’t granted him better skills at knowing how to live it.
Neirra had told him to find out what made him happy so he’d have a positive goal to work for, but he didn’t know where to look. Maybe he wasn’t meant to find peace in his life. Peaceful people didn’t want to crush a galactic government agency that had used and discarded him like a cheap shockstick.
Except, against all odds, he now had friends.
Lunesti, whose real name was Haseem, and who had invited him to the anti-CPS group.
Big-hearted ex-Jumper Kooga at the soup kitchen.
Soleil Benoit, the instructor of the pay-what-you-can martial arts studio in the Canals with which he traded janitorial services for workout sessions.
He wondered what she thought of his request to bring Charrascos.
He stole a glance at her. Her stiff body and shuttered expression made him suddenly wary. Something must have happened while he’d been away from her.
Their agreement that he wouldn’t die for her didn’t mean he couldn’t treat her like a human being. However, he wouldn’t know the right thing to say if it jolted him in the ass.
A flash of memory surfaced, of the day five years ago when he’d learned he could still cry. It had hurt and made him angry, and yet the tears kept coming. Neirra had held him, his bald head against her bony shoulder, blood from his collared neck staining her canary yellow tunic.
That experience broke him. He’d never been the same rage machine after that. He’d been terrified Davidro would notice and figure out how to use it against him, but his former boss had stopped seeing Renner as a human the day he’d collared him.
He cleared his throat. “Do you want a hug?”
She glanced at him, startled. She wiped a tear away from her face. It was the first time he’d seen her cry.
Her expression softened into a tremulous smile. “Not exactly security protocol.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Neither is standing on the open roof.”
She wiped her face again. “Maybe later. Let’s go home.”