25 – To Hunt a Ghost

When Tony returned to the lobby of the SOA office, he couldn’t help smiling at the way Addie beamed at him. She immediately jumped up and walked over to him, heedless of the other people waiting for service, and grabbed his arm, leaning in close. “Did you pass?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I take it you did, too?”

“Yes! They asked me about escalation of force and weapons laws!”

“Easy, huh?” Tony threw his arm over her shoulders and, together, they approached the guy behind the front desk.

“It was, yes, but that’s thanks to you.”

Tony shook his head. “Nah, you could find all the prep questions on the net. You’re good at studying.”

“Was there something you needed?” the clerk asked, tucking some of his thin, stringy hair behind an ear.

“How soon will our SOA credentials be updated?”

“Did you just pass an assessment?” When Tony nodded, the man shrugged and said, “Usually within an hour or so. It’s up to the assessor to upload the results. They don’t tend to sit on them.”

Tony rapped his knuckles on the counter. “All right. Thanks.” Then, arm still over Addie’s shoulders, he steered her toward the exit. “We'd better get moving. I’ve got another message from Torque.”

“How soon can we test for tier eight?” Addie asked as they waited for the elevator.

“Well, that’ll cost us another 750 each, so we want to make sure we pass. I’d say, we'd better get at least three decent jobs done as tier-nines. It’ll still be general questions until tier seven; that’s when they start to ask role-specific questions and sometimes make you do practicals.” The elevator dinged, and they stepped inside.

“Practicals?”

“Yeah, like, if you’re primary role is muscle, you might have to demonstrate some combat techniques.”

“Oh, got it.” Addie was quiet after that until they were outside, waiting for the van to come around. Then she asked, “But, like, what’s my role?”

“Hmm.” Tony looked at her and couldn’t resist reaching out to curl one of her thick strands of hair around his finger, twisting it idly as he replied. “You could say recon or, hell, a Dust specialist. I mean, you can already take a guy out with your lightning; that’s enough to qualify you as specialized muscle.”

“Oh, right. Okay, cool.” The van pulled up, and Addie climbed into the passenger seat. Tony shut the door for her, then went around and climbed in.

“Nora, get the van moving toward the Ninety-Nine.” As they pulled out into traffic, Tony looked at Addie, noting the pensive nature of her expression. “You’re not worried, are you? You’ll crush the exams. I’ll make sure of it.”

She smiled hastily, glancing at him. “No, um, not really. I guess I’m just thinking about how strange it all is—how much my life has changed and how fast it’s still changing. You know?”

Tony stretched, taking a deep breath as he shook his head. “Do I know what it’s like to have my life suddenly change? Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He flexed his mechanical hand, watching the black plasteel fingers click-clack open and closed.

“Yeah, I guess you’d be able to relate.” Addie pulled the lever to unlatch the swivel on her seat, turning to face him. “You seem a lot happier these days.”

Tony nodded. “I am. I mean, mostly thanks to you, but it’s cool to have…” He frowned, scratching his head. “Goals, I guess. Yeah, it’s nice to be working toward something. If I didn’t have you, though—I mean as a partner and…um, friend—I think I’d fixate on everything I’ve lost. Instead, I get to enjoy watching you make the climb for the first time.” He’d never put that feeling into words, but the sentiment seemed right when he said it. He was almost enjoying doing rookie work again, but mostly because he got to experience it vicariously through Addie. If he were alone…

“You like working with me, huh?” Addie’s smile was mischievous—one side higher than the other, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight reflected through the van’s windshield.

“Come on. You know I do.”

“Well, I think you’re

pretty great, Tony Baloney.” She stretched out one of her little canvas sneakers and tapped her toes against his knee. “Is that what we are, though? Partners? Friends?”

Tony decided it was time to reclaim some of his cool, so he smirked and shrugged. “At least.” Addie let her foot slide past his knee, probing along the inside of his thigh, and Tony grabbed her ankle. Her grin got even more wicked as he squeezed, and she continued to press against his grip. “You’re looking for trouble, aren’t you?”

“Why? You have some for me?”

Tony snorted, pushing her leg aside and turning to face the windshield again. “Too much, sister. Too much.”

“Oh, don’t get all serious now!” Addie pouted, folding her arms with a huff.

“Well, I have to be! I mean, seriously. There are things you don’t know. Things I…” He trailed off, and Addie stared at him for a minute. He thought she’d argue or press the issue—ask him to elaborate—but she got quiet again and turned away, leaning her head against the softly vibrating window.

Tony, for his part, didn’t know what to say. He’d decided he wanted to be with her but hadn’t figured out how. Sure, he knew he had to get out from under the specter of Jen and Eric, but that was a big damn can of worms. He let the silence between them loom for a few minutes, watching their steady progress toward the club on his mini-map. When their arrival was imminent and he couldn’t stand it any longer, he said, “I want to be with you, Ads. I do. I want things to work between us. I just need to figure some shit out. If… if your patience is running out, I get it. I’d understand if—”

“Oh, hush, Tony!” She spun her chair toward him again. “I can be patient. I already promised I would, right? I just, yeah, I get frustrated. I’m sorry. I know you’re dealing with a lot.” As the van pulled into an open spot—there were dozens at that time of day—Addie unbuckled and stepped into the space between the chairs, leaning over him. “That doesn’t mean I won’t try to steal a kiss here and there.” Then, she made good on the threat, leaning close and pressing her soft lips against his.

It was a sweet kiss, gentle and quick, and when she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked happy. “You can survive on a few kisses?” he teased.

“Mmhmm. As long as they're from you.”

Tony locked eyes with her for a long minute. He wasn’t sure who he thought he was fooling. What difference did it make if they kissed or did anything else? She was in his heart, burrowing in, planting roots. It would rip him to shreds if something happened to her—if Jen did what she’d done to Em… As he clenched his jaw and hot moisture gathered in his eyes, Tony cleared his throat and opened his door. “Let’s go see what Torque wants.”

Addie seemed to have missed his change in demeanor because she practically skipped along beside him as he strode toward the club doors. Tony pushed his darker thoughts and feelings aside, focusing on the moment. The bouncer ignored them, apparently unconcerned by what he saw, and, inside, the club was dark and quiet. The dancefloor was roped off at that time of day; the only people there were the kinds of folks who had something to regret or forget.

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Synth-pop played low, and men and women hunkered on barstools and in booths. Tony ignored them, walking straight to the stairs leading to the private lounges. Torque's bodyguard waved them forward as soon as they reached the long hallway at the top. “He’s expecting you.”

Inside, Cyan and Torque were mid-conversation, but when the fixer saw Tony and Addie, he cut his assistant off mid-sentence and said, “About damn time! We’re burning bonus money here, you two!”

“Huh?” Addie said.

“What’s the deadline for a bonus?” Tony asked.

“If you can catch the guy by ten tonight, we get double pay. I guess he’s got a pattern—three nights in a row, he’s killed someone in the stack, always between ten and midnight.”

“What guy?” Addie asked. “Can you start at the beginning?”

Torque frowned. “Didn’t Shep fill you in?”

“He said there’s a spark killing people in a Takumi stack. I hope you’ve got more info than that!”

Tony smiled, happy to let Addie take the lead. Torque didn’t seem to share in his amusement. “Takumi stack number four. Murders all happened on levels 145 and 146. I’ll forward the victims’ names and apartment numbers.”

“Why haven’t Takumi corpo-sec—” Addie started to ask, but Torque waved a hand, cutting her off.

“Hey, save the questions for the end. Cyan, give ’em the full rundown.”

Torque’s assistant cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, turning to face the three of them. She crossed one long leg over the other, straightened the lapel on her blue blazer, and spoke in her signature, sing-song tone, “The murders began three nights ago with a young woman named Leah Grey. She shared an apartment with her father, who was the one who found her in the morning. She was sitting at their kitchen table, eyes open, but dead. When the father called it in, Takumi corpo-sec arrived and, initially, thought it was a drug overdose. Post-mortem, however, determined that her, um, heart had been removed.”

“Surgically?” Tony asked.

Cyan shook her head. “No, there were no signs of incisions. The connective tissue and arteries were torn, like the heart had been, well, ripped

out. Forensics found traces of blood on the table and the flooring. Someone had wiped it up, but not thoroughly.”

“How could it be ripped out but not leave a mark…” Addie trailed off, and Tony could guess why: her imagination was probably answering the question for her. He could guess, too. Maybe it had something to do with fading. Could you pull someone’s heart into the—what did she call it? The space between dimensions?

Cyan shrugged. “That’s why they think it’s a spark. Well, that and the artifacts on the security footage.”

“What kind of artifacts?” Tony asked.

“I’ll send you footage, but basically, there are distortions in the air that match a pattern for a known Dust ability that masks a spark’s presence, folding the light or something like that. The artifacts are intermittent, so they couldn’t get a good trace of the killer’s passage through the building.”

Tony nodded, frowning. He hadn’t expected to be up against a spark with that kind of power. He rested a hand on Addie’s shoulder and looked at Torque. “Why do you think we can find this guy if their corpo-sec couldn’t?”

“What? You don’t think you can do better than some low-wage, overworked slugs who sold their souls for a corpo badge? C’mon, you’re both sharp. The payday’s worth giving it a shot, anyway.”

“How much?” Addie asked.

“Cyan.” Torque waved a hand to his assistant.

“Contract incoming.”

When Tony got the file, he glanced through it, looking for the terms. His eyes bulged out when he saw the payment amount. “Forty k?”

Torque nodded. “That’s right, and you can double that if you get the creep before ten.”

Tony nudged Addie with his elbow. “Any objections?”

She shook her head. “Let’s get started.”

Torque laughed. “Isn’t it funny how a big stack of bits makes all the concerns and questions disappear?”

Cyan smiled, exposing sharp, silver-plated canines that Tony hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll send you the footage and the information on the other murders. They all were killed the same way—hearts removed without any surgical evidence.”

“Thanks.” Tony nodded to her, then turned to the door. “Ready, Ember?”

Addie held up a finger. “One thing. Torque, you have a lot of runners in your contacts folder. Why us? We’re barely tier-9.”

“Why? ’Cause, lovely Ember, when you’re hunting a ghost, you need to hire someone who can walk on the other side—someone who can smell the Dust in the air before things get bloody.” He winked at her, and Addie closed her mouth with a click of her teeth. Torque’s meaning was clear: he’d seen the footage of her throwing lightning around.

“All right,” Tony said, opening the door. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Earn us that bonus, you two! I’m counting on you!” Torque called after them.

Tony was walking fast, suddenly feeling the pressure—forty k was a big deal, but eighty? If they could get that bonus, they could buy some of the more expensive upgrades on their list—maybe a better reactor for Addie, a decent combat drone, or a proper PAI chip for her. They needed better gear, too. He could use some armor and melee weapons—maybe a monofilament concealable for his cybernetic arm. “Consumables, too,” he said, visions of med packs, grenades, dummy drones, holographic decoys, and a hundred other things running through his mind.

“Tony!” Addie said, grabbing his jacket sleeve. He had a feeling it wasn’t the first time she’d called his name.

“Uh, what?”

“Did you hear that? He knows!”

“Yeah. It’s annoying, but it’s not the end of the world. You just became more valuable to him as an asset. As long as we’re working for him, I don’t think we need to worry about him trying to capitalize on it some other way.” As they stepped out into the sunlight, he squinted at his AUI, checking the time. “Only two. We might be able to pull this off.”

“What did he mean by someone who can smell

the Dust?”

“I don’t know how it works, but sparks can usually tell when another spark is about to do something. Didn’t you notice when what's-his-face was doing his thing?” She stopped in her tracks, and Tony slowed, turning to look at her. Her eyes were wide as she stood there on the blacktop. “What?”

“I can see it. When Zane was using his abilities, I could see the Dust, Tony!”

“Well, shit. Maybe this job just got easier. How long does it last?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I only saw him doing that a couple of times, and one of them wasn’t exactly a pleasant memory…”

“Oh, right. Well, come on. Get in the van. We can talk on the way.”

Tony waited until she started walking again, then turned and headed for the mismatched gray vehicle. As he slid into the driver’s seat, he leaned back, jaw tight, thinking through the job—and the gear he’d need to walk into a fight with a rogue spark. Speed mattered. So did lethality.

The vibroblade he’d kept from the bangers who jumped them would do. A sleek little snapblade from Luster Arms, way too clean for the Blast. Micro-serrated, ceramic-edged, and fast as hell. Tony liked that he could palm it without a trace, then pop the thing open with a subtle thumb-press. It buzzed like a hornet when it was out, but by then, secrecy wouldn’t matter. The blood would already be spilling.

He'd bring his .40 caliber, too, and, hell, he might as well sling the electro shotgun. Glancing at Addie, he said, “I want you to wear the vest.” He was talking about the ballistic vest they’d taken from the mercs who’d tried to kidnap her.

She pulled her door shut and shook her head. “How’s that going to help me against a spark? It’s too bulky, Tony!”

He started the van moving toward the address Cyan had forwarded to them. “I guess you’ve got a point. Your jacket will stop small arms anyway. I wish… Well, we need to get you some damn nanites.”

“Hah! Even low-end medical nanites are way outside our budget.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, but not for long.” He jerked his thumb toward the back of the van. “Humpty’s back there, right?”

“Yep.” She unbuckled and swiveled her chair. “What else do we need? I can start putting our stuff together.”

“Um, my shotgun—the electric one. Make sure the drum is full. I’ve got my pistol. Oh, the knife I kept when we sold the Cold Boys’ stuff. I guess grab us each a stim inhaler and a nanite pack for you.”

“I am not using one of those inhalers. I felt like my heart was going to fly out of my chest when you made me try it.”

Tony chuckled at the way her voice rose. They’d picked up a few “consumables” after selling Malik’s arms and most of the Cold Boys’ gear to the fence Beef had lined up. Nothing too fancy—just a few trauma injectors packed with nanites to speed up clotting and pump oxygen to vital organs, and the stim inhalers Addie apparently wanted nothing to do with. “You sure? They’re a poor man’s wire-job. Sometimes, a split second’s the difference between a cold stainless cart in the morgue and a celebratory beer with your crew.”

She sighed. “Oh, fine. I’ll keep one in my pocket. Anything else?”

“Yeah, please load the extra mags I have for my pistol with the armor-piercing rounds we bought.” As the van turned itself, following Nora's programmed route, he shook his head and swiveled his seat. “I can do that—just hand me the mags and the ammo box.”

“Should I bring my spider?”

“Why not? You’ve got enough Dust to let Humpty trail you, right? I think you should get used to having him out on a job. Extra eyes and ears, and if you don’t have to unpack him, you can use him in an emergency.”

“Like to distract people?”

“Sure, or chase someone, or scout out where a sniper is hiding. I could think of a million ways that thing could be useful.”

“That thing, Tony? You’re going to hurt Humpty’s feelings.”

Tony clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Only if you tell him I said it.”

“I won’t,” she said, smiling as she handed him two empty magazines and a box of polymer-coated, high-pressure rounds. As he took them, Tony grabbed her wrist, squeezing gently.

“You okay?” He knew her well enough to recognize her desire to keep busy as an attempt to take her mind off the upcoming job.

“I’m just nervous. If he can make himself invisible and pull people’s hearts out… I’m not ready for that kind of fight, Tony.”

“Well, that’s why you’ve got me. You just help me find him, all right?”

She nodded, and he saw her visibly force herself to relax her shoulders as she took a deep, slow breath. “Okay. When we celebrate, though, I want something other than beer. I’m thinking cake.”

Tony grinned. “I haven’t had a cake in a million years. Let’s do it.”