Finn's Golem (5 page)

The door to Claire Marsland’s hotel room stuck a little, as if the frame was slightly warped. The carpet wasn’t new, but it was clean in a hotel-room kind of way. There was a wardrobe rack near the door, across from another door that led into the bathroom. Small shower stall, nice and clean, extra towels, no gangsters lurking behind the toilet tank and yes, I checked.

We had gone to the hotel that she’d made a reservation at, which might have been careless, but there was no room in Bountiful above the level of dumpster or tar-paper shack that would have checked her in without scanning her Exchange Stick anyway. So if someone was looking, they’d have found her right enough,
and
there didn’t seem to be any way around it.

The place couldn’t possibly have been anything but a hotel room. There was a dark wood table that was meant to serve as a desk, and a hard wooden chair with thin padding on the seat that roughly matched the carpet. There was an end table with a lamp that didn’t work and a bed that dominated the centre of the room to which I tried to pay very little attention, as it led to a series of entirely unprofessional thoughts about my client. I pulled the curtains back to reveal a reasonably decent view of the downtown lights, made into a showy display by the driving rain against the window.

“Nice
,
” I said quietly.

“It’s the best hotel I could afford, I’m afraid.” She seemed embarrassed.

“You’re not in New Coast anymore, angel
,
” I said, considering the view another moment before drawing the curtains tight
.
“I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

I looked back at her on the other side of the room. She was smiling in a way I was completely unprepared for. Amused, I guess, but something more played about her eyes.

“What are you smiling at?”

She leaned back against the wall and seemed to press her shoulders into it, just a little. “You talk like a character in a gaudy novel
,
”
s
he said.

I nodded. “Does it annoy you?”

She shook her head
.
“No. It inspires confidence.”

“Well, that’s something anyway.”

She smiled
.
“What now?” she asked. I didn’
t get the feeling that she meant to imply anything untoward, which was a damned shame. It was my general impression that
she didn’
t entertain strange thugs in her hotel room often and it made me feel awk
ward in spite of myself. I wasn’
t thinking anything that ev
ery man that looked at her didn’
t think, I knew that much. But I was the one alone with her in her room, in a city in which she knew no one
,
in the middle of a situation that was more dangerous than she knew, and all of that made me feel a hot pang of guil
t for considering what I couldn’
t help but consider.

I pulled the hard wooden chair away from the desk and sat down. It felt more casual, or maybe just slightly less predatory.

“You tell me, kid. When you were rehearsing this speech on the shuttle, before you met me. What did you plan on saying to me right now?”

She shrugged and said
,
“Good night?”

“You want me to go?” I offered.

“No.” She didn’
t quite say it, but her lips moved, and there w
as a little whisper that couldn’
t have been any other word. We were on opposite sides of the room. But the air was suddenly thick with tension. Those eyes were locked on me and I realized with a strange dread that she wanted me to kiss her. Maybe almost as much as I wanted to.

The trouble with trying to be a decent guy was that it was profoundly not in my nature and I knew it. It is possible that I just did not like nice girls. If she were dirty, if she were a hellcat, a killer, a double-dealer or if I j
ust had the impression that she’
d been round t
he block a few times and wouldn’
t remember me longer than it would ta
ke for my aftershave to fade, I’
d have had her on t
he bed in a heartbeat. I wouldn’
t have even sto
pped to wonder if maybe it wasn’
t a great idea to get involved with a client, or let my guard down during a nasty piece of business like this, when I co
uldn’
t produce a piece of ID, have told you where my apartment was or if I had a middle name.

But then I suppose it wouldn’
t have been nearly as exciting.

She blushed and laughed and the moment was broken.

“I’
m sorry
,
” she said
,
“I think I’
m feeling a lit
tle over-dramatic.”

I shook my head
.
“My fault
,
” I said
.
“I let you knock back all that Pho back at the bar.”

She laughed and played with the necklace again. “Well, I appreciate your not wanting to take advantage of me in that condition.”

“I didn’
t say I
didn’
t want to
,
” I said seriously
.
“Let’s be very clear, that’
s not the case at all. But there are probably things to be considered first.”

“You’re a very blunt man, aren’
t you?”

“I promise you, Miss Marsland, this is me at my most subtle.”

I wasn’
t sure what that meant, but it sounded good, and I could tell that she thought so too.

“So there are things to be considered first, are there?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her left ear. “Would you enumerate them please?”

“I couldn’
t produce anything like a comprehensive list off the top of my head, beyond asking what you need me for.” I caught myself just before she laughed and blushed again
.
“Let me try that again. Why did you hire a detective, Miss Marsland?”

“Won’
t you call me Claire?”

“I will if you answer my question.”

“
It occurred to me that I couldn’
t do this alone
,
” she said seriously
.
“Bountiful City has a
reputation, and at any rate, I’
ve never been here before.
If I was right about my father’
s death... it struck me that I could use someone in my corner.”

I nodded
.
“That could be just about right. How long did you plan to string me along with the story about the little lost sister?”

She shrugged
.
“As long as I needed to.”
S
he looked down at her shoes.

“You think you’
re admitting something awful, angel,
but you’
re not. Everybody
lies to their detective. If you’d given me any other answer I’d have known I couldn’
t trust you any more than you were ready to trust me.”

A cloud passed over her eyes
.
“I can trust you, can’
t I
,
Mister Finn?”

I nodded. “You can,
but you shouldn’
t. Just on general principles.”

“I’
ll risk it.”

“Suit yourself. What’
s our next step?”

She sighed and pulled a portable Omnilink terminal out of her bag
.
“My father left
me a message before he died. He’
d destroyed every copy of E2-476 to keep it fr
om falling into this man Carter’
s hands. But there was a backup. He always had a backup, hidden somewhere, far from the prying eyes of his superiors. As a safety precaution, in case they came after him.”

“In case who came after him?”

“Omniframe Internal Security.”

I snorted in spite of myself
.
“Nice sort of playmates. So having created the ultimate weapon against what passes for reality these days, he put a copy in his pocket, just in case.”

She nodded
.
“Just in case. He never intended to use it. B
ut he couldn’
t lay hands on
it to destroy it, and he couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’
t...”
S
he trailed off and turned away.

“He couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’
t spill if the question were put a little rough.”

She nodded. “The letter was written the day
before he died. I didn’
t find it unt
il two days later. Since then I’
ve been struggling with what to do.”

“Why didn’
t you go to
’
Frame Internal?”

“I didn’
t trust them. Once my father died, his projects were
canceled. Which means they didn’
t exist and they never had.”

“So if a girl showed up at their door with news of a t
hreat that Omniframe says doesn’
t exist-”

“There’
s really no telling what might have happened.”

We let that hang in the air for a moment, but we both had a general idea of what probably would have happened. Claire Marsland would suddenly be found to have never existed, and the girl who was once her would disappear into a very dark hole.

“So you hired yourself a gumshoe long-distance, bought a shuttl
e ticket and came to save Daddy’
s legacy?”

“Something like that.”

“Something like that. So what happens now? What did his message say?”

She set the Interlink terminal on the table beside me. Her arm brushed up against mine and I could feel her jump a little at the contact.

“When I arrived in Bountiful, I was to transmit a code to a blind interlink address
,
” she said, looking for the plug in the wall.

“Then what?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No idea
,”
she said
.
“Perhaps it is delivered, perhaps I receive instructions-”

“Perhaps you should wait until morning
,”
I interrupted.

“Do you think so?” she asked
.
“Why?”

“There may be a human element on the other end of that address. And they may or may not be someone we can trust. Or they may or may not have already been compromised. If Cyrus the Locust is involved in this, the reception committee at the shuttle pad was almost c
ertainly working for him. If it’
s another player, we need to know that too.” I moved for the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

“We need some answers
,”
I said
,
“
and
we won’
t find them
sitting around here. If someone’s looking for you, they won’
t have much trouble
finding you. But as long as you’re in the hotel, there’
s security everywh
ere. And cameras. Locust wouldn’
t move on you here.”

“How can you be sure?” she said, a little desperate
.

“I can’
t. Put the chair under the doorknob. And take this.” I handed her the second key the clerk had given us when she checked in.

“Why don’
t you keep this?”

“So there’
s no chance I could give it up
,
” I said
,
“
i
f the question were put a little rough.”

She turned pale. “Don’
t leave me
,
” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry, angel. You’re never really alone if you’
ve got a Monitor-29.”
A
nd with that I produced Felco’
s little gun from my pocket and pressed it into her hand. “You know how to use one of these?” She nodded. I made her look at me
.
“Fir
e center mass, you hear me? Don’
t get fancy. Center mass. And then call the law, not the house dick. If someone got this far they either paid security off or put them out of the picture.”

She looked like she might fall down.

“If I thought it
was likely to happen, I wouldn’
t go anywhere
,
” I said seriously
.
“The smart play is to wait it out. Follow you. See what develops.”