Analog Science Fiction And Fact - June 2014 (21 page)

Mira patted his scarred hand reassuringly. "Even if you did, aren't you grateful you can't remember? Wouldn't carrying around memories of whatever you did be even more painful than these guilty feelings? Trust me, you are a better person for not knowing."

"I can't accept that! My memories made me what I am, Mira. How can I be the same person if I've forgotten so many of the events and experiences that formed me?" He looked into the distance, as if searching for an answer. "We are what we remember, Mira. Whatever I was went away with my lost memories and now...
now
I'm someone else."

Mira shook her head. "No, that's not true, Tony. Everybody says the Amnesty treatments just erase selected memories and losing those about the war can't change who you really were. You can't become someone different than what you were. You just can't!"

"But why am I a machine operator? Was I one before, or did they put those false memories in my mind?" He held his head in his hands. "Jesus, why did I ask for Amnesty? Was it so bad that I couldn't live with it? Is all this worry about the unknown worth it?"

"I'm sure you didn't want to recall the war's horrors. Besides, don't you remember how you learned to operate a shredder?"

"Well, I remember working in a factory before the war, but nothing specific. It's more like a half remembered dream. I'm sure other vets feel the same."

"Not Pete," she answered. "He had an off ice job in the war, he says. He swears he didn't get treated."

Tony chuckled. "
That
could be a false memory, just like mine. None of us know the truth. He could have been a soldier, too."

Mira shook her head. "I doubt that. Pete's not a big guy, like you, and he complains all the time about how he couldn't pass the physicals."

"Sounds like you know him pretty well."

That was an understatement. "Yeah, I know him better than most." She and Pete had gotten together when she got the job at the diner. They had two years before she finally gave it up.

Not once had he shown her any strong emotion or said he loved her like he really meant it. He wasn't a cold fish, but neither was he completely open. She suspected it was his simmering resentment about his minor, administrative role in the war. Becoming the sheriff might have been his way of compensating. Even if he was too small for combat, she knew he could certainly be mean enough.

Pete wasn't shy about telling anyone about his job of processing clearances, vetting difficult and necessary jobs, and processing those for sending those to the line. "Nothing more than pushing paper," she recalled him saying as if the job had shamed him. "Said I was too puny to be in combat—me!" he'd often complain when he had a bit too much to drink.

The first sign of trouble was an altercation between Tony and two of the local toughs. Jack Wise was sent to the hospital with a broken arm, but Josh Applecorn, the other man, sported only minor cuts and bruises when the police arrived to break up the fight.

Applecorn immediately accused Tony. "He came out of the alley sudden-like," he was quoted in the local paper. "He jumped us before we could defend ourselves." If Tony disagreed, it didn't make the article, and the knives and clubs taken from the pair went unexplained.

"I'm holding both of them in custody until we get this cleared up," the paper reported the sheriff saying.

Tony and Josh were released when no reliable witnesses stepped forward to say who had initiated the fight. Both were fined for disturbing the peace.

"I don't like you hanging around with that damned rehab," Pete declared when he came in for his coffee a few days later. "I told you he was trouble. The way he beat up those boys shows how dangerous he is. This is the sort of thing that happens when those treatments aren't successful and they revert."

"Why are you so sure that it was Tony's fault?" Mira demanded. "It could have been those other jerks that started it. They aren't exactly upstanding citizens."

Pete ignored her. "I've half a mind to call those guys who go after war criminals. Who knows what he did, what they made him forget? It was a mistake for the God-damned Amnesty to let war criminals go unpunished."

This had become a running argument. Mira knew a lot of the things done by both sides during the war had been brutal and horrible, but if they didn't help the people who fought, who committed those acts, to forget, what else could they do with them?

"We had to stop the cycle of revenge and retribution somewhere," she protested. "It was the only way."

Pete disagreed. "I still say we should have locked him away, treatments or no. Not pat him on the head and let him walk around all innocent. It's dangerous. He's like a ticking bomb!" Pete was suddenly talking specifically about Tony.

Mira wasn't about to let it go. "What good would it do to punish Tony if he's forgotten his crimes, Pete? The Amnesty is as much an act of forgiveness as forgetfulness. If Tony and the other veterans can't remember, why should they be forced to carry the blame?" She momentarily wondered if they all, like Tony, walked around with this residual guilt?

"Just the same, there's no telling what he might do. I know the types they chose to be soldiers. The conditioning they gave them went deep. Who knows how that training warped their minds? I don't for a minute believe that any amount of treatment could ever erase it. Hell, look at how bad he beat them boys!"

"I don't think the fight was Tony's fault," Mira answered. "He's too nice a guy. And why would he attack perfect strangers?"

Pete acted as if he hadn't heard her, which wasn't unusual. "Like you're a good judge of character," he scoffed. "Look, I don't want you being friends with him. He's nothing but trouble. He might snap again, for all you know. Look, Mira, I don't want you to get mixed up with one of those rehab bastards."

"But the Amnesty..."

Pete didn't let her finish. "Amnesty, my ass! Painting over somebody's memories doesn't wipe away what they did." He slammed the counter. "Listen to me, damn it; he's a killer and doesn't deserve a second chance."

Mira was surprised at the outburst. She'd never seen Pete get so incensed. Was this really about Tony's potential danger or a resurgence of Pete's jealousy?

"Pete, you need to calm down. There's nothing serious going on between Tony and me."
At least not yet,
she added to herself.

"I worry about you, Mira; that's all. It would be safer if you stayed away from him, sweetheart." Turning solicitous was Pete's usual reaction when anger didn't work. It was something she'd heard him do so many times before when he wanted to manipulate her. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Again?" No sooner than the words left her mouth than Mira regretted them, no matter that they were a completely honest expression of how she had felt the night she ended their relationship.

Pete looked really pissed. He threw a few bills on the bar to cover his coffee and Danish and left without another word.

Josh Applecorn's body was found stuffed in a dumpster near the salvage yard where Tony worked. He'd been beaten pretty badly before his neck had been snapped.

"I'm keeping that damned animal in jail until we get the autopsy report," Pete explained when Mira showed up at the station. "Maybe he left evidence on the body, something we can use to put him down."

"Tony was with me," Mira protested, hesitated, and then added: "All night."

"Yeah, you'd say that, wouldn't you?" She rocked back at the rage in Pete's expression. "Everybody knows there's been bad blood between him and Applecorn ever since that fight. This murder was about getting even. Hell, look at where the body was found; near where your good friend Tony works, Mira. Who else would dump a body there?"

"He was with me," Mira pleaded. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I know my girl isn't a fucking whore," Pete shouted as he came to his feet and put knuckles on the desktop. "Because I won't have you making up some God-damned lie just to protect that murderer."

Mira stepped back. From the way Pete's face suffused with anger, she knew he was but a step away from exploding. "I'm not lying," she answered, but knew it would do no good.

Tony would have languished in jail as Pete waited for the forensics reports had it not been for the coincidental disappearance of Josh's car, along with Jack Wise and Sherri, Josh's girlfriend.

The state patrol picked them up at a motel fifty miles away, trying to use Josh's missing credit cards. They noted that Jack Wise looked like he'd been in a hellacious fight that had left him with bruised knuckles, a black eye, and splotches of what might have been Applecorn's blood on his cast. He was also wearing Josh's gold watch.

By the time the patrol brought them in for questioning, Sherri was already pleading that she had nothing to do with the fight between Jack and Josh. "He forced me to come with him," she declared, which was at odds with her carefully packed suitcases containing her collection of jewelry and stuffed animals.

Tony was quickly released.

"If it wasn't this time, it'll be another," Pete grumbled over his coffee the morning after the judge booked the pair and released Tony. "That killer instinct always comes out with these war criminals. Next time I'm not going to let you alibi him."

Mira had another girl take his order.

Mira heard about the guns when Chuck, the motel clerk, came in for his afternoon beer. "These guys put their guns on the beds," he said, keeping his voice low. "Probably got grease on the bedspread, the slobs." Mira nodded to show she was paying attention. "I got out of there as fast as I could when I saw that. I wasn't about to stick around. No sir!"

"You'd better let Pete know about the weapons," Mira advised. "Have the sheriff check them out."

"Check out who?" Pete asked as he took the next stool and signaled for a coffee. "The two hunters? Yeah, they stopped by the station to register their permits."

"They didn't look like hunters to me. Why did they stop here?" Chuck countered. "And their stuff didn't look like hunting gear, either. More like military stuff—all green, rugged."

"Lots of hunters use surplus military weapons." Pete shrugged. "They have permits. All I needed to know." He accepted the hot cup of coffee and blew on it instead of cooling it with too much cream. "Long as they have permits, there's nothing I can do about it."

"They were asking about veterans, too," Chuck continued. "I told them about the new guy at the scrap yard. Why would they want to know about him, I ask you? Could they be those Caper-something guys?"

"Or maybe they're having a veterans' reunion party," Pete said calmly. "How the hell would I know?" He took another sip. "Or give a rat's ass."

Mira didn't say anything, but she certainly planned to mention the conversation to Tony.

It was such a balmy day that they had lunch on the Square across from the diner. Mira brought a club on rye for herself and a bologna on wheat with mustard and sauerkraut for Tony.

She didn't waste any time getting to the point. "Military weapons, that's what Chuck said. He said they were big men and sure didn't look like bible salesmen. Said one of them had that haunted look, just like yours."

Tony nodded. "You could say that about most of those who've been in the war."

"They were asking about vets." When Tony didn't react, she added. "Chuck said he mentioned you and the others."

Tony looked up. "Did they say they were looking for me in particular?"

"No, but why would they be asking about ex-military, and why the guns? I don't think they're hunters at all. Chuck thought they might be
Cazadores
searching for escaped war criminals."

"Did they say they were?"

Mira punched his arm. "No, they didn't
say
they were, but it's funny they should ask about vets if they're just hunters. What the hell else do you need to know?" She hesitated, not sure she wanted to hear the next answer. "Could they," she stopped. "Could they be looking for
you?
"

Tony's smile disappeared. "I deserve whatever comes if I did something so terrible the
Cazadores
want me. I'm not going to worry about it."

"You're a damn fool if you don't worry." Mira hesitated, "Listen; I don't want anything to happen to you, Tony. You've become a good..." she paused, "... friend."

Tony took another bite of his sandwich and washed it down. "I appreciate your concern, Mira, but if anyone wants to find me, they will. It's not as if I was hiding. Besides, I agree with what the
Cazadores
are doing: people should pay for their crimes."

"Maybe it would be best if you were to leave, just like she says." Mira jumped when Pete suddenly appeared behind them. "I don't like troublemakers hanging around my woman."

His woman?
Before Mira could correct Pete, Tony looked up. "I don't see where Mira is any concern of yours, sheriff."

"Don't pay any attention to him." Mira glared at Pete. "He's just jealous."

Pete hadn't taken his eyes off of Tony. "I'm warning you," he hissed and leaned forward. "Stay away from her."

Mira knew that look, that intense stare of Pete's that usually foreshadowed something worse. It was another thing that made her leave him.

Tony stood abruptly, making Pete stagger back. Before she realized it, Pete tore into Tony. There was a quick succession of blows that left blood streaming from Tony's nose and a nasty cut under Pete's eye. Pete's hand hovered near his gun. "You keep away from her," he shouted. "You keep your filthy Goddamned hands off of her."

A small crowd quickly gathered, including Mike who had run from the diner, and Pete suddenly began acting officious. "Nothing to see here, folks. It's just a little
personal
disagreement, nothing more." He glared at Mira and turned toward Tony. "Later," he muttered as he stalked away.

"The tip was pretty confident that it's Adler," Mira overheard the shorter man whisper as he hunched over his lunch. He had that same haunted look she'd noticed on some other veterans, but somehow meaner, more intense.

She brought them two fresh drinks and lingered a moment more as they looked at a small image one of them brought up on his handheld.