Fantasy in Death

22

Eve sat in the conference room with the team, her commander, Mira, and Cher Reo.

She watched, with the others, while her recording played on-screen, and tried to ignore the fact that on it she fought for her life wearing a black skin-suit and copper breastplate.

If she couldn’t still feel the memory of Roarke’s blood on her hands, and the aches and burns in her own body, it would’ve been ridiculous.

Again, she watched Roarke block her from attack while she fired at holo-images. Why hadn’t she hit the controls sooner, she thought? Why hadn’t she found them sooner? Seconds sooner and he wouldn’t have taken the knife. Only seconds.

She saw it happen again, the pivot and block to save her, the fierceness of his face. And the slide of the knife into his vulnerable side.

Then the scene changed-like a flipped channel-and they stood in a room ruined by her blasts and streams, smoke thick, the controls crackling flame, and Roarke’s blood staining the floor.

“It’s bizarre,” Reo murmured. “I’ve watched it twice now, listened to your report, and I still have a hard time believing it.”

“We’ll need to keep as many of the details as possible out of the media.” Whitney scanned the faces in the room. “As many as possible inside this room. All of his records and equipment were confiscated?”

“Everything in the place,” Eve confirmed. “He may have another hole, but I believe that’s unlikely. He kept it all close to home. We’ll take him into Interview shortly.” She turned to Mira. “Ego, competition, pride of accomplishment?”

“Yes, all those areas are vulnerable points. He’s become not only addicted to the game, but may have lived inside it for some time. It’s a more exciting reality, one where he controls all-but stands aloof. He didn’t engage in play with you.”

“He’s a coward.”

“Yes, but one who believes himself superior. You only won because you cheated. He believes that, too.”

“The game was the weapon, he controlled the game. Can we charge him with First Degree on Minnock?” Eve asked Reo.

“Tricky. It could be argued he only intended Minnock to play, and that the victim could have won. And we have no proof Minnock wasn’t fully aware of the technology when he himself started the game.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I agree, but I can’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt in court. We go for Man One-just hear me out,” she said before Eve could object. “Man One on Minnock, Reckless Endangerment on Allen, the same on both you and Roarke, adding Assault on a police officer, and the stack of Cyber Crimes, the unregistered equipment, false statements, and so on. We wrap him up, Dallas, make the deal, avoid the trial that could drag on for months-and sensationalize the technology and the crimes in the media. He’ll do a solid fifty or more in a cage. A cage, due to the cyber-charges, without access to the e-toys he knows and loves. It’s harsh, and it’s apt.”

“I want Attempted Murder on Cill and Roarke. I want him charged, goddamn it.” She pulled herself back, pulled it in. “I’m going in on Murder One on Bart Minnock. If you deal it down later, I’ll accept that, but I want him charged, and I want to start the deal at the high mark.”

Reo studied Eve’s face. Whatever she saw there had her easing back. “Let’s see what happens in Interview, and go from there.”

“Then let’s get started.”

Whitney pulled her aside. “He can sweat until morning. Until you’ve had a little more recovery time.”

“I’m fine, sir.” Going now, she thought, and going hot. “He’s already had a couple hours to regroup. I don’t want to give him any more.”

“Your choice. Dallas? Don’t make it personal.”

“No, sir.”

But it was. It was, she thought as she walked over to Roarke.

He wore a shirt copped from Baxter’s locker, and under it, she knew his wound was still fresh, still raw. His color was back, his eyes clear. Not pale, so pale, as he’d been when his blood had seeped through her fingers.

“I know you want to see this through,” she began. “I get it. But I’ll arrange for you to view the record. You need to go home, take those damn drugs you refused, and let Summerset hover over you.”

“I will if you will.”

“Roarke.”

“Eve. We understand each other, don’t we? Let’s finish this.”

“There’s going to be a chair in Observation. Use it.”

She walked away, found Mira. “I’m going to ask you for a favor. I need you to keep your eye on Roarke. If he looks like he needs it, jab him with a damn pressure syringe full of tranqs. I’ll take the rap.”

“Don’t worry.” Mira slipped her arm around Eve’s waist, just for a moment. “We’ll have him outnumbered.”

She nodded, then ordered herself to shake it off. Just shake it off and do the job. “Peabody.” She paused, pushed a hand through her hair. “You’re sympathetic, even a little impressed. Not too soft, nobody would buy it. But you’re younger than he is, and he’ll read that as naive. If he’s done any digging, and he would have, he knows you’re cohabbed with an e-man.”

“Got it. Suggestion? I’d lose the jacket you got out of your locker. Go in bare-armed so he can see the hits you took. It’ll give him a little rush.”

“That’s good.” She tugged it off, setting her teeth when her arm twinged. She tossed the jacket to McNab. “Hang onto it.”

Then she nodded to Peabody and opened the door of Interview A.

He sat at the table, hands folded, head down. He lifted it as they entered, gave Eve a sorrowful look. “I don’t know what hap pened. I-”

“Quiet,” she snapped. “Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, entering Interview with Hoyt, Levar. Mr. Hoyt, have you been read your rights?”

“Yeah, when they-”

“Do you understand your rights and obligations?”

“Okay, yeah, but the thing is-”

“Look, asshole, I’m not wasting time on your lame explanations and bullshit. I was there, remember? Had a ringside seat to your sick game.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” His shackles clattered when he lifted his hands. “The whole thing got away from me. Some sort of glitch, and I was trying to fix it when-”

She slammed both hands on the table, made him jump. But she saw his gaze slide over, and up to the wound on her arm. “You stood there, you bastard, watching that vicious world you created go for us. You stood there.”

“I was trying to make it stop, but-”

“Stood there, observing. Too much of a coward to actually play.” She reached out, grabbed his shirtfront. “Too weak to take me on?”

“Easy, Dallas. Easy.” Peabody laid a hand on Eve’s shoulder in warning. “The guy created something pretty amazing. He’s a scientist. He probably doesn’t do much combat.”

“I can hold my own.”

Eve snorted in disgust, paced away.

“Well, sure.” Peabody sat now. “But I’m just saying, up against somebody trained like Dallas, or in the shape Roarke’s in, you’d be at a disadvantage. Physically. When it comes to e? You’re off the scale.”

“Maybe you two would like a moment alone,” Eve said coolly.

“Come on, Dallas, credit where it’s due. How long did it take you to develop the program? The tech’s beyond the ult. I can’t get my head around it.”

“It’s an entirely new level. It took years, but I could only put so much time into it. It’ll open up a whole new world, not just for gaming, but, well, for training you guys, and military. That kind of thing.” Eager now, he leaned forward. “I wanted to create something, to give something to society. I tried dozens of theories, applications, programs, before I was able to refine it. The realism offers the player true risk and reward. And that’s…” He drew back, as if realizing he was digging a hole.

“I never expected it would cause actual harm. That’s why I’ve been working to retool, to offer that same realism but without the potential to cause injury.”

“You knew it could harm, could even kill,” Peabody said, still wide-eyed. “So you’ve been trying to fix it.”

“Yes, yes. I’d never want anyone to be hurt.”

“Then why didn’t you tell Bart? Why didn’t you tell him the program was fatally flawed?”

“I… didn’t know he was going to take the disc. He didn’t log it out, he didn’t say anything.”

“But what was it doing there, at U-Play, if you were working on it outside the office?”

“I wanted to run it for him, to brainstorm with him, but he must’ve taken the disc to try it for himself.” Var lowered his head into his hands again. “I don’t know why he did that. Why he took a chance like that.”

“You’re stating that you told Bart about your work, about the program, and the risks?”

“Absolutely.”

“Just Bart?”

“That’s right. I didn’t realize he’d taken the experimental disc until-”

“Then why is Cill in the hospital?” Peabody persisted. “How did she get her hands on a second program disc if you only took one in to Bart?”

“After Bart I told her about it.” He widened his eyes, all sorrowful innocence. “I had to tell someone.”

“And she just got some wild hair and repeated Bart’s mistake?”

He sat back, set his jaw. “She must have. She didn’t say a thing about it. You can ask Benny.”

“We’ll be asking her. She’s out of the coma,” Eve lied and turned back. “The doctors said she’s going to make a full recovery, and she’ll be able to talk to us tomorrow.” She glanced at her watch. “Make that later today.”

“Thank God. Thank God for that. But you have to understand, she’s really pissed. She’s really wrecked and totally pissed at me about Bart. She blames me.”

“Imagine that. And imagine, Var, who we’re going to believe when she tells us you gave her that disc, told her to work on it.”

“I never did any such thing. You’ll never be able to prove that. My word against Cill’s, and she’s right out of brain surgery. Maybe I should get a lawyer. I bet a lawyer would tell you the same thing.”

“You want a lawyer? Fine. We’ll end the interview now while you make those arrangements. And while you are, the e-team will be dissecting your precious program, your logs and records, your unregistered, and destroying same.”

“Wait! Wait!” His restraints rattled again as he came halfway out of his chair. “You can’t do that. That’s my work. My property. You’ve got no right to do that.”

“Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Let’s just hold off. Let’s just wait.”

“Are you saying you don’t want legal representation at this time?”

“Yes. Let’s just talk this through.” He folded his hands again, but this time, Eve noted, his knuckles had whitened. “That work is valuable and complex. Your e-people aren’t going to get it. It’s years in the making. It’s mine.”

“Yours? Not U-Play’s? You have a contract, Var. Share and share alike. Any of you develops something, it goes in the kitty.”

“That doesn’t seem altogether fair,” Peabody added. “Not when you did this on your own. Something this brilliant.”

“I would’ve shared it, but Bart… Look, I discussed all this with Bart and he didn’t want any part of it. So it’s mine. Exclusively.”

“You told Bart about the work, the concept for the program?”

“He’s the marketing genius. We could’ve revolutionized the market.”

“But he was shortsighted.”

“Games are games, that was Bart’s line. He couldn’t see expanding beyond that, couldn’t see the possibilities. He was all about the risks. So it’s mine. I did all the work, put in all the time-my own time.”

“And melded it with the concept and technology in Fantastical,” Eve finished. “Not yours exclusively.” She pointed a finger. “You cheated.”

“I did not!” Color rose, hot and bright, on his cheeks. “Look, he had a choice, and he made it. It’s all about choices, isn’t it? Every gamer decides what action to take, then plays it out.”

“And Bart was a better gamer than you.”

“Bullshit.”

“He had a better focus, and looked at long-range strategy. You’re the detail man, and you tend to miss the big picture.”

“He’s the one who’s dead,” Var snapped back.

“Yeah, got me there. You set him up, and you took him out.”

“Facts.” Var punched a finger on the table. “Bart took the disc. Bart plugged it. Bart played the game. I wasn’t there. Nobody forced him to play. He had a bad game, a terrible accident, but I’m not responsible. I created the program, worked the tech, but that’s like saying the guy who built that weapon you’re carrying is responsible when you zap somebody.”

“He’s got a point.” Peabody nodded. “You’re just the brains behind it.”

“That’s right.”

“I guess you’re the smartest one of the four, too. None of them came up with anything close to what you did.”

“They never think outside their box.” He drew four connecting lines in the air. “Four square.”

“Frustrating for you, to be able to see so much more than they could.” Peabody sighed a little in sympathy. “Why didn’t you ever cut loose, just go out on your own? You didn’t need them.”

He shrugged.

“Or maybe you did,” Peabody continued. “I mean, a smart man knows he needs to use other people, pick their brains, let them handle some of the work so he can focus on what’s most important. You’ve known them a long time, worked with them, so you know their strengths and weaknesses, and how to use them for, you know, that big picture.”

“You’ve got to make a living so you can do the work.”

“Right. They supplied that. I get it. So when you gave Bart the disc, it was really just an experiment. You needed to see what would happen. To test it out with an actual human player.”

“That’s right. He gives good game. I thought he’d last longer than… I couldn’t know,” he said, backtracking. “I wasn’t there.”

“You couldn’t know when you gave Cill the disc either,” Peabody agreed. “You couldn’t know she’d fall. Plus, their weapons were as lethal as their opponents’. It wasn’t like you sent them in unarmed.”

“It had to be fair.” Var leaned forward, focusing on Peabody. “Look, Bart played that scenario a million times. If he hadn’t figured out how to take out the Black Knight, it’s not my fault.”

“How could it be? And if you’d told them they were plugging in your program, your new technology, it wouldn’t have been a valid experiment. A true gamer is supposed to believe it’s real, right?”

“Exactly.” He gave the table a quick slap. “There’s no point otherwise.”

“You had no responsibility to tell them about the program when you gave them the discs.”

“No, I didn’t. What happened after that was on them.”

Eve started to speak, then hooked her thumbs in her pockets to let Peabody play him out.

“But those can’t have been your first experiments. Not for a scientist as meticulous and involved as you. You must have played the game yourself.”

“I used droids, once I figured out the tech, and what was possible, I used droids against the holos. It’s all in my logs. I documented everything. I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not my fault anyone got hurt.”

“Droids and holos.” On a low whistle, Peabody shook her head in admiration. “Man, I’d love to watch that play out.”

“Holos took it eighty-nine-point-two percent of the time. But they could run it for hours. Wicked frosty.”

“You knew they weren’t coming out,” Eve murmured. “When you sent your friends, your partners into those holo-rooms, you knew they had almost no chance of surviving the game.”

“I couldn’t know.” He folded his arms, smiled a little.

“You’ve got us there.” Eve nodded. “They walked in on their own. You weren’t there. It’s not like you forced them to play.”

He shot out a finger. “Bingo.”

“Wanting Bart gone, that’s not a crime either. And you did want him gone, didn’t you, Var? You’d done with them. You had what you’d worked for, and here’s Bart, who’s not nearly as smart, as inventive, as visionary as you are, refusing to play. All the resources of the business, all the tools available-that you’d helped build. And he said no, no dice, not going there. What gave him the right to deny you?”

“He didn’t have the right. I’m just as much a part of U-Play as he was. Just as important. But if Bart said no, everybody went along.”

“That’s a pisser. But if Bart’s not around, you go up a level. You have more control, more power, more say.”

“Like you said, wanting him gone’s not a crime.”

“And you had a way, where you wouldn’t be responsible, and he’d be gone. It’s brilliant.”

“It’s what I do. I build the scenario, create the tech, and the player decides. Win some, lose some.”

“He loses, you win.” Eve studied his smug, satisfied face as she rocked slowly back and forth on her heels. “And you’ve tied our hands on it. You always knew we couldn’t come at you for murder, even if we figured it out.”

“I have to say, I didn’t think you’d figure it out. Not for a while, not at least until I had the program on the market. Going military and security with that, by the way. It’s not for the kiddies. You can see right in my logs and notes that I never intended the tech for the open market. You just can’t come at me on this.”

“You gave them the discs, and didn’t tell them about the augmentation.”

“Yeah, I gave them the discs. So what? And Bart should’ve figured out the augmentation after five minutes if he was paying attention. It’s not like I forced him to play the game.”

“Cill didn’t know about the new tech. She knew nothing about it.”

He shrugged. “Okay, so what? She should’ve figured it, too. She’s so freaking smart. Benny’s already making noises about having her take Bart’s meetings, the interviews.”

“Pushing her in front of you.” Eve nodded. “Too bad she fell, instead of getting a knife in the heart.”

“The program shuts down if the player’s unconscious. I didn’t realize that until it happened. That’s the problem with droids. Now, I know, so I can adjust. Oh, and I wanted to say, you held up good out there. You and Roarke really showed some skill. But you can’t bring in alternate weapons-that’s not play. And, like I said, I was trying to shut it down, but hit some glitch. These things happen.” He smiled again. “I saw Roarke took a hard one. I hope he’s okay.”

She leaned in. “Fuck you.”

“There’s no need to get steamed.” He smiled broadly. “You happened to come in, and I was in the middle of an experimental game-and that’s not against the law either. Listen, you can get me on the unregistered. I’ll pay the fine, do the community service, whatever. I won’t even sue you for zapping me-in my own place. Now I should really get to the hospital and see Cill. I can’t even imagine how scrambled her brain is after what she went through. So, can I go now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Var, you can go. To hell, via a cage. You’re under arrest.”

“Arrest?” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, come on, we’ve been through this.”

“That’s right, and you’ve admitted to creating the program, to giving both Bart and Cilla the discs without informing them of the augmentation or the risks.”

“I didn’t make them play. I didn’t-”

“You keep going down that road,” Eve advised. “It’s going to dead-end on you. The PA’s going to have a field day on charges. We’ll say Murder One on Bart, then the Assault with Intent on a police officer and a duly authorized expert consultant, civilian, Attempted Murder on Cilla, various and sundry cyber crimes.”

“I didn’t kill anybody!” he shouted. “They lost the game.”

“Your game,” Eve said. “Your rules. Your play. You’re going to be a very, very old man if and when you get out of that cage, Var-a cage where you’ll be banned from the use of any electronics. No more games for you, you fucker.”

“This is whack.” He looked at Peabody. “You know this is whack. You get it.”

“Yeah, I get it. So let me put it this way, just to play the same theme as my partner. Game over, fucker. You lose.”

Face cold, eyes flat, Peabody got to her feet. “I’ll take him through, Dallas. McNab and I will take him through.”

“Okay.” She sat now, suddenly and completely exhausted. “Okay. Peabody? Good work.”

“This isn’t fair,” Var protested. “It’s just another cheat. You can’t put me away for this,” he continued as Peabody hauled him up. “I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t there. It’s their own fault.”

Eve closed her eyes as his voice, and the tears in it, faded away.

He believed it, she thought, at least in some small part of his mind. He’d done nothing more than provide, so couldn’t be held responsible for the results. And maybe his lawyers, when he got them, would play that one, but she had faith in Reo, and the system.

She had to.

She opened her eyes when Roarke came in and closed the door. He sat across from her, kept those wild blue eyes on hers.

“Been a while since I’ve been in the box with a cop.”

“Do you want me to read you your rights?”

“I’ll waive that. You let Peabody lead him along. She did well.”

“He believes some of that bullshit, enough of it to convince himself it’s Bart’s own fault he’s dead, Cill’s problem she’s in a coma.” Her heart squeezed, hard, before she finished the thought. “If that knife had gone into you a couple inches over, it’d be your own fault.”

“Going by that logic, it would be my own agility and skill that has me sitting here now, looking at you. You’re tired, Lieutenant, and you’re sad, and a bit beaten up as well.”

“I want to be pissed, and satisfied. I’ll get around to it. They thought he was their friend, and they were his. He used them, sucked what he wanted from them, and gave back only what he wanted to spare, that was-in turn-useful to him. They never really meant anything to him, in all those years they worked together, spent together.”

She drew a breath, let it out. “No, worse, they were just a means to an end, just levels to get through to the win. It made me think about what’s involved in friendships and partnerships. Relationships. I could try to be a better friend, a better partner, but I’ll probably forget.”

“From where I sit you do quite well enough, but I’m happy to remind you if you like.”

“Roarke.” She reached over the table, took his hands. “I thought I understood, when Coltraine went down, I thought I understood what you deal with because of what I do. What I am. But I was wrong. And tonight… It was so fast. Blasting that damn room to pieces trying to find the controls. And I did. I did, but seconds too late. In seconds I saw that knife go into you, and the world just stopped. It just ended.”

“But it didn’t.” He squeezed her hands. “And here we are.”

“I did okay before you-without you. I was doing just fine. Christ knows you were doing just fine before me.”

“I don’t want just fine. Do you?”

She shook her head. “I mean, it was okay. When you don’t know what you can have, you do okay with what you’ve got. But now I know, and I don’t think I can get through without you. I wouldn’t be just fine, or okay, or anywhere close to it. I don’t know how people get through. All the people left behind, the ones I have to look in the eye and say he’s gone or she’s gone. I don’t know how they take the next breath.”

“Isn’t that why, in a very real sense, you do what you do? You are what you are?”

“Maybe. You can’t think about it or it makes you crazy. Or sad and tired.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look straight into his. “When we were in there, and it looked like we wouldn’t walk out again, I could deal with it. Because… I know it’s stupid.”

“We’d die together,” he finished.

She let out a half-laugh at the beauty, and the oddity, of being understood so well. “Which is probably sick and selfish, and a bunch of other neurotic shit Mira could pick at. But, yeah. Going down together’s one thing. Taking the next breath without you? That’s not possible. But you have that… possibility to cope with every day. Roarke, I wish-”

“Don’t.” His fingers tightened on hers, and his tone sharpened. “Don’t sit there and tell me you wish it could be different. That you could be. I don’t want different. I fell for a cop, didn’t I? I married a cop, though she discouraged me. We’re not easy people, either of us.”

“Really not.”

His arched his eyebrow. “Do you want easy?”

“No. Hell, no. I want you.”

“Well, aren’t we the lucky ones to have exactly what we want?”

“Yeah. We should go home.” She let out a long breath. “Get a little sleep,” she added as she rose. She saw Roarke’s body stiffen, saw the wince as he got to his feet. “After Summerset takes a look at your side.”

“I don’t need him fussing over me. It’ll do.”

It might be small, it might be petty, she thought, but it was both a relief and just a little satisfying to reverse their usual routine.

“The MTs said you could use a follow-up at the hospital,” she reminded him. “So it’s that or Summerset.”

“It’s literally a flesh wound as the knife didn’t get anything but meat.”

“It’s your meat, pal, which makes it mine. In this case, I’ll go with Summerset, a soother, and some sleep. And before you argue, think back to the number of times you’ve hauled my ass to a hospital when I didn’t want to go, or poured a tranq down my throat. Being you’re just a consultant, I outrank you. You were injured on my watch.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe a little. Probably more when we get home and Summerset gives you grief. But for right now?” She looked up at him as she guided his arm around her waist. “Lean on me. I know it hurts.”

“It bloody well does,” he admitted, and leaned on her, a little, as they walked out together.