Realms of Light

Chapter Thirteen

We came out in a maintenance shaft-it wasn’t streetlevel, but it was open to the sky and a cab could get in. I beepedfor one. Then I looked at the HG-2 and checked the read-outs to seeif it had a fix on the invisible floater.

It did. I lifted the gun, pointed it in theright general direction, and fired.

The recoil knocked me back against the shaftwall, so I didn’t get a good view of the explosion, but what I sawwas pretty damned satisfying. Scraps of hot metal and meltedplastic rattled off the walls and floor, and sparking bits ofelectronics spattered in all directions.

“What the hell…?” Singh said,turning around fast. He dropped my father on the way.

“Spy-eye,” I said. “The Ginza cops set it onus.”

“And you killed it?”

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t say anything morethan that aloud, but I was thinking that I really hoped it hadn’tbeen sentient. I had quite enough to explain to my ancestors whenthe time came without adding another murder.

“That blast is going to get the citycops after us!”

“Pfui,” I said. “When was the lasttime you saw city cops do anything down here?”

“You’ve sure as hell pissed off theGinza!”

I shrugged. “I’ve been on their gritlist foryears.”

A weird hissing noise interrupted us, and weboth turned to see where it was coming from.

My father was lying sprawled on the floor ofthe shaft, laughing at us.

“My Carlie,” he said. “Look at you!”

“I look a hell of a lot better than you do,”I retorted.

“You… you’re living like one of my dreams,”he said. “How did that happen?”

“My parents did the dump on me when I wasfifteen,” I said, and I knew I sounded bitter and sarcastic, and Ididn’t care. “I learned to do whatever I had to do to survive.”

“You’re… what, an assassin?”

“A private detective,” I said.

“And you’re taking me to Prometheus?”

“Shut up,” I replied. Something was movingoverhead, and I wanted to be sure it was our cab, and not a Ginzaenforcer.

Then it was sinking down the shaft with theheadlights blazing, a cloud of stardust forming the Midnight Cab amp; Limo logo on its taxi-yellow belly. “Our ride’s here,” Isaid.

“So are those,” Singh said, pointing.

I looked where his finger indicated, andspotted two glossy black floaters-not stealthed, but not lit,either. They were big ones, probably weighed more inert than I did,and were heading directly toward us. I didn’t see a logo-not theGinza’s, not the city cops’ insignia, nothing but gleaming black.They didn’t look like newsies; there were no visible lenses orantennas.

I looked at my gun and thought about it, butthere were two of them, and they might be armed. I could maybe takeout one before they could react, but there was no way I could getthem both, and I didn’t know what the survivor would be capableof.

They weren’t shooting at us, and they weren’tshouting, so I decided we could ignore them for the moment.

Well, partially ignore them, anyway. They didforce me to change my plans. I had originally hoped to call ’Chan,get him to the casino door, then grab him, maybe drug him, and haulhim along to the ship. That would have gotten everyone together,one happy family, and we could have just taken off for AmericanCity before the cops could stop us.

With those floaters there watching us, thatprobably wasn’t going to work.

“Someone called for a cab?” the Midnight cabcalled, its door sliding open as it hung a few centimeters off thedeck.

“Get him in,” I told Singh, pointing at myfather. While he loaded Dad into the cab I watched the blackfloaters, but they had slowed to a stop. They were hoveringsilently at the top of the shaft, noses toward us.

“You coming?” Singh called. He and Dad weresitting in the cab, the door open.

I holstered the HG-2 and climbed in afterthem. The door was closing behind me when a Ginza floater, exactlylike the one that had accompanied the cops-in fact, it probablywas the one that had accompanied the cops-came dropping downtoward us.

“Transparency,” I told the cab. “I want tosee this.”

The roof seemed to vanish, and there was theGinza floater, swooping down toward us-and then the black floaterswere moving again, as well.

But they weren’t moving toward the cab; theywere diving in to cut off the Ginza’s floater.

“Get us out of here,” I said.

“I don’t want any trouble with the casino,”the cab protested.

“Neither do we,” I said, “but it looks as ifsomeone else does.” The black floaters had blocked the cop’sapproach.

I couldn’t see the Ginza floater anymore,since the black floaters were easily twice its size and there weretwo of them between us, but the cab had its external audio on, so Icould hear it. “Hu Xiao!” the Ginza floater called. “You arecharged with the destruction of casino property!”

“I don’t want any trouble with the casino,”the cab repeated.

“And I told you, we don’t either,” I said.“None of us is this Hu Xiao person. See for yourself.” I slid mycard in the slot.

“Thank you, Mis’ Hsing,” it said. “And theseothers?”

Singh threw me a glance, then fished out hisown card and tabbed it in.

“Thank you. And the last of you?”

“That’s my father, Guohan Hsing,” I said. “Hedoesn’t have his card with him, but if you’re set up for a DNAcheck you can verify it.”

“I’m Guohan Hsing,” Dad agreed. “You cancheck my voiceprint if you can’t do a genetic scan.”

I wasn’t any too sure his scratchy whisperwould match any old voiceprints the cab might have access to, butapparently the cab was convinced somehow; it began rising.

“I notice the elder Mis’ Hsing is naked anddoes not appear entirely well,” it said, as it cleared the lip ofthe shaft. “Is medical attention desired?”

I was watching the floaters and almost didn’thear it; the Ginza floater was still trying to get at us, and theblack floaters were blocking it, forcing it back. “Who arethose things?” I asked.

Then the cab’s question registered, and Iquickly added, “Thank you, but no medical attention is needed. Justget us to the port asap.”

“The blue floater is a security unit owned bythe Ginza Casino Hotel,” the cab said, answering my question. “Theother two are refusing all requests for identification, but thespecifications match descriptions of high-level units owned by theNew York Townhouse Hotel and Gambling Hall.”

“Carlisle Hsing!” the Ginza floater called.“You are charged with destruction of casino property and giving afalse name to security personnel!”

They’d ID’ed me. I was a bit surprised it hadtaken that long, but I wasn’t really thinking about that. I wasthinking about the black floaters. They belonged to the NewYork?

That meant they belonged to the Nakadas. HadGrandfather Nakada sent them to protect me? It didn’t seem likely.It didn’t seem like his style, and besides, everyone on Epimetheusthought he was dead. He couldn’t just give orders and expect themto be carried out without any explanation of his reporteddemise.

But who else could have sent them? Obviously,someone who’d been listening in-maybe through my gun, maybe throughdatafeed from Seventh Heaven or the casino cops-but who would havecared enough to send this pair?

I didn’t understand what was happening, and Ididn’t like that. I wasn’t going to take any more big risks until Ihad a better idea what was running.

“The port,” I told the cab. “Hurry!”

“But the Ginza…”

“We aren’t in their jurisdiction,” I said.“Go!”

“I’m going.”

It was; we soared up out of the shaft, and upSixth Street, then diagonally over the rooftops toward theport.

“Oh, gods!” my father said.

I turned, thinking something was wrong,thinking maybe his heart was giving out without the steady streamof meds and fluids he’d had in the tank, but no, if anything he waslooking better than ever. He was sitting up and staring out at thecity.

Specifically, he was staring at the westernwall of the crater, where the morning sun was gradually creepingdownward from the rim, and at the higher towers, where sunlight wasgleaming from their top few floors..

“It’s the dawn,” he said. “It is, isn’tit?”

“Not yet,” Singh told him.

“Soon, though,” I said. “That’s why I’mgetting you out. I expect Seventh Heaven to declare bankruptcy theminute that light hits the streets of Trap Over. Maybe they won’tjust leave all the dreamers to rot in their tanks, but I didn’twant to take the risk.”

“How long was I in there?” Dad asked.

I glared at him. “I was sixteen, almostseventeen, when you went in,” I said. “Look at me now.”

“It’s horrible,” he said. “Sobright!”

I almost laughed. I’d spent a year onPrometheus. I’d even been stranded on the Epimethean dayside once.To me, Nightside City was still an island of comforting darkness,even if the sky was no longer black. “What, none of your dreamswere out in the sun?” I asked.

“Some of them were, yes, but those weren’treal. I always knew that. And they weren’t in NightsideCity, in my home.”

“Your home is about to get hit with hardultraviolet,” I said. “The temperature’s already climbed at leastten degrees, and it hasn’t rained since you bought your dream. Youknew that was coming.”

“I… I knew it, but I didn’t believeit.”

I snorted. “So you ran and hid in adreamworld where you wouldn’t have to see it,” I said. “You know,when I pulled you out, I wasn’t sure whether you would wake up ornot, but I’m glad you did, so you could see this.”

“I don’t like it,” he said. “I want to goback.”

“Too late for that,” Singh muttered.

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “I could drop the twoof you, you could tell the authorities I had you at gunpoint thewhole time and you never wanted to cooperate, and you could takeMis’ Hsing here back to his happy fantasy life in the tank.”

Singh looked at me. “And what do youdo?”

“I get back to the port and head forPrometheus, and hope my rich friends there can buy my way out ofthis mess.”

“And what about those?” He pointed.

I followed his finger to where the two bigblack floaters were following us at a frighteningly small distance,maybe ten meters behind our cab. “Oh,” I said.

I didn’t know who sent those two, which meantI didn’t know what they would or wouldn’t interfere with. Theymight not let me dump anyone, or flee anywhere.

There was no sign of the Ginza cop floater,though. That was something. I wondered whether the black ones haddisabled it somehow, or whether it had realized it was outmatchedand backed down, or whether it had been called back by the casinomanagement.

Any of those was possible.

Who had sent the black floaters? Werethey helping me, or just keeping me for themselves?

I didn’t think Yoshio had sent them. If hehad, wouldn’t they have told me? But if he hadn’t, who had? Wassomeone from the New York tracking me? If so, was it at Vo’sdirection, or without his knowledge?

Or was someone keeping an eye on the SeventhHeaven dreamtanks?

Nakada floaters, according to the cab. And itwas presumably a Nakada who had used the back door into SeventhHeaven’s data. If someone was keeping an eye on them, it wasa Nakada, or at any rate someone with access to the clan’s innerworkings.

And someone with access to the clan’s innerworkings had tried to kill Grandfather Nakada. Someone had madecopies of the old man’s ITEOD files, including back-ups of a dozenhigh-ranking Nakadas.

I didn’t think Vo had anything to do withit.

It might all be coincidence. It might beunrelated intrigues or corporate espionage. I didn’t think that wasthe way to bet it. It looked to me as if it was all part of thesame conspiracy, and the only coincidence-if it was acoincidence, and not somehow connected-was that the dream companyinvolved happened to be the same one that had my father tucked awayin their tanks.

Dreams-someone was monitoring the top dreamcompany on Epimetheus, and someone had tried to kill Yoshio Nakadaby tampering with his dream enhancer. Another link.

But it wasn’t about me or my father at all,then, and I could still try to grab my brother.

“Wait a minute,” I told the cab. “Can you getback to the Ginza without attracting any unwanted attention?”

“What?” Singh said. “I thought we wereheading for this ship of yours, to get the hell offEpimetheus!”

“There’s another passenger,” I said. “Someoneelse I want to bring.”

“Where are you planning to put her?”Singh demanded. “This thing’s full!”

It didn’t look that full to me; yes, therewere three of us on the main seat, but there was a luggagecompartment in the rear, and I suspected a second seat could befolded up. “Cab, how many passengers are you licensed for?”

“Six, mis’.”

“Then can you get back to the Ginza?”

“I don’t know, mis’,” it said. “Those twofloaters are following me, and I’m on the navigation grid; ifanyone wants to find us, they can.”

“I thought you were in a hurry!” Singhprotested.

“My brother’s in the Ginza,” I said.

“Sebastian?” Dad croaked. He was slumpedagainst the side of the passenger compartment, staring out throughthe transparent bubble at the glittering ads that filled thestreets of Trap Over.

“Yes, Sebastian,” I told him. “He’s acroupier.”

Dad lifted his head from the plastic. “I’dlike to see him,” he said.

Just then Singh’s com buzzed. He tapped itfor speaker.

“Minish Singh,” he said.

“Singh,” it replied, in a woman’s voice,“what the hell is going on?”

“Damned if I know,” Singh said.

“That woman you’re with has been identifiedas a private investigator named Carlisle Hsing, except Hsing issupposed to be off-planet, on Prometheus. Do you have any idea whoshe really is?”

“She gave her name as Hu Xiao,” Singh said,throwing me a questioning look.

“She’s not Hu Xiao-at least, not the courtofficer Hu Xiao.”

“Then I don’t know any more than you do.”

“She’s listening to this, isn’t she?”

“Yes, mis’.”

For a moment no one spoke; then the cabasked, “Am I supposed to be going to the port or the Ginza?”

“The Ginza,” I told it. Then I told Singh’scom, “I’m Carlisle Hsing. My brother Sebastian can identify me.He’s a croupier at the Ginza.”

“I’m assistant director of security for theGinza, Mis’. I know Sebastian Hsing.”

“Then you can arrange for him to talk tome.”

“I could, yes, but why should I?”

“Because I asked nicely?”

She sighed. “Mis’ Hsing, what do you thinkyou’re doing? According to the records you’ve occasionally cut afew corners, but you’ve basically stayed clean. Now you’ve shot afloater and kidnaped an attendant and someone from a dreamtank, notto mention trespassing, avoiding arrest, impersonating anofficer-what is this?”

“It’s a misunderstanding.”

“It’s one hell of a misunderstanding.”

“Let me talk to my brother, face to face, andI’ll explain. We’re on our way back to straighten this out.”

She didn’t answer right away. Then she said,“I’ll need to check with the floor manager.”

“You do that,” I said. “Oh, but one questionfirst.”

“What?”

“That floater I shot, the stealthed one-whatkind was it?”

“What do you mean, what kind?”

“Was it sentient?”

“Not really. Semi-autonomous.”

“Thank you.” I leaned back on the seat, andonly when I did that did I realize I’d been hunched forward. Now Icould relax a little. “You go ask whoever you need to ask.”

I had assumed it was just a dumb tracker whenI first shot it, but then I’d had second thoughts. It was good toknow I had been right the first time. Legally it probably didn’tmake any difference, but it mattered to me whether I’dkilled something self-aware.

For the most part I was making this up as Iwent, as I usually did, but I decided it was time to do a littleadvance planning, for once. I ran my fingers over my wrist and senta little message to the Ukiba-four words, “add a hot lunch.”I was fairly certain Yoshio-kun would punctuate thatproperly, even if Perkins didn’t-add “a” to “hot lunch,” and have ahot launch ready to go when we got back to the ship.

“Privacy,” I told the cab, once the messageshowed as sent and received.

The view of the surrounding city vanishedinstantly as the cab went opaque, and my symbiote flashed an alarmthat all external input and net access had been cut off.

“Thanks,” I said. “Tab yourself a fat tip forthis-double the fare, if you want.” I might as well enjoy myexpense account while I could.

“Thank you, mis’,” it replied. “It’s veryexciting!”

“I thought you didn’t want any trouble,” Isaid, amused.

“It seems as if I have it whether I want itor not, so I might as well enjoy it.”

I grimaced. I wished that attitude was morecommon.

Then I turned my attention to Singh and myfather. “Listen,” I said, “they think I kidnaped you two, but Ireally am going to kidnap my brother ’Chan. He’s got animplant that’ll shut down his legs if he leaves the Ginza, so we’llneed to carry him. Once he’s off-planet we can get the implant out,but first we need to get him onto the ship. Dad, I know you’re inno shape to do anything, but Singh, can you help me with this?”

Singh cocked his head. “How big is yourbrother?” he asked.

“Bigger then me,” I said. “Bigger than myfather. But not really big.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Besides a ride to Prometheus?”

“Yes, besides that.”

I glared at him, then shrugged. “Akilocredit.”

“Five.”

“Two-five.”

“Three.”

“Done.”

We shook hands, and then loaded my fatherinto the luggage compartment, where he would be safely out of theway.

“Everything hurts,” he complained. “I feelevery little bump, and my legs and hands are all stiff.”

“That’s how you know you’re alive,” Isaid.

“They didn’t hurt in the dream.”

“It wouldn’t be much of a dream if they did,”Singh said, as he straightened Dad’s limbs to make him morecomfortable.

“We’re approaching the Ginza,” the cabsaid.

“Let me see,” I said, and as the bubbleturned transparent and the city reappeared around us, I pulled mygun from its holster and tapped the power switch to on.