Silhouette (18 page)

“Tap your index finger to take it out of standby.” Paul's voice said in my glasses. He was already puffing with exertion. I did as he had said, and the falcon immediately started to drop until I jerked the remote back up. “Your index finger is a mouse to select view and other options, middle finger squeeze twice to fire stopper rounds, ring finger for killers, and your pinkie for gas.” I moved my wrist forward and backward, like a motorcycle grip, and watched the falcon dive and ascend, then tilted my hands sideways each way for it to turn, then figured out for myself that the thumb controlled acceleration and reverse.

I sailed the bird in different directions above the street, then pointed it toward an empty section of wall high up on a building, depressed my pinkie twice, and watched a gas pellet streak to the wall and explode against it. Satisfied that I basically knew what I was doing, I minimized the falcon's view in my glasses by half, so that I could see in front of me, and immediately noticed that the crowd had parted from me in all directions, forming a circle from which they stared at me in shocked silence like I was some kind of alien invader. Taking this as my cue to move, I jogged off in the direction my two coworkers had gone, keeping my wrist and fingers stationary and pressing my thumb against the throttle so that the falcon stayed right above me.

As I progressed toward the corner that Kim and Paul had disappeared around, I practiced watching the street through the clear portion of the glasses and the falcon's view through the rest. The former was harder than the latter: I didn't have to worry much about the falcon as long as my hand was in the same position, because unless a BASS aero showed up at some point, there was nothing at that height that the bird could run into. Some of the ad holos were projected up there, and I couldn't see much when the falcon was inside them, but I knew that if I just held steady, I could fly straight through them and out the other side.

When I reached the next block, Paul told me which way he had gone and sent me in the other direction. I combed that length of street for Kim, sending the falcon ahead to look around the corners at the next intersection.

“This would be a lot easier with the Eye,” I said.

“Which we can't use, of course,” Paul replied. “Because it could be detected.”

“What if Saul already knows what we're doing?”

“I don't think it's likely with the blocks I'm using,” he said. “They'll keep Kim from diving too deep and keep us hidden at the same time. Hold on.” I kept combing my street and waited until he came back on. “According to the trace, he's diving right now, so look for someone standing still. I don't think he can move when he's in.”

“Right,” I said, remembering how the tech had gone rigid in the net room at the castle. “Can you tell what he's doing? Calling for help?”

“He's all over the place,” Paul said. “Trying avenues other than BASS, so that proves he found out something about the murder, and he thinks I'm in league with you … two big shots, so he's not expecting any help from the company. He also probably won't go in the stores, because he's figured out by now that my junk may be good enough to access their security systems.” As he paused, I studied all the stationary figures on two streets, and then a third as I turned the falcon around and sent it around another corner. Then Paul added, “But he's straining my ice, so we need to find him fast.”

As if on cue, through the falcon's view, I noticed a familiar male form flush against a pole. I zoomed closer and saw that it was indeed Kim.

“I've got him,” I said.

“I know,” Paul answered, and, guessing my question, added, “I'm plugged in to your glasses and falcon view, too. Only because I've practiced … I wouldn't try that many perspectives if I were you. What street is he on? Either find a street sign or bring up the GPS.” Not wanting to take my eyes off Kim, I moved my pointer finger until the falcon's location was at the top right of its screen, and told Paul where it was.

“I'm northwest on Mason,” he said. “My bird can be there in a minute, me in five.”

“We need to take him out now, while he's under,” I said, then paused for a moment, realizing I was in a kill mode by default from the adrenaline and anger inside me, but wondering if I should be.

“Suit yourself,” Paul said.

“If I gas him or use stoppers,” I said, my mind firing in all directions, “what would we do with him?”

“Lock him up somewhere, I suppose,” Paul said through heavy breaths, obviously running in my direction. “I just don't see how that's going to work with what we have to do tonight.” He then added, “Don't use gas … BASS sensors might pick it up.”

I tried to think harder, which didn't work too well, but then my reverie was broken as Kim came out of his dive and saw the menacing black bird floating near him. He instinctively leaped in the direction his body was facing and raced into the tangle of slow-moving cars on the street. I jerked the falcon forward in the direction of his receding back, and when I had closed the distance to a couple of car lengths, I tried to put the crosshairs on his zigzagging form as best I could, squeezed my second finger twice, then held it down. I was expecting to see a stream of X-shaped projectiles raining down on the man, but instead I could tell right away that they were regular bullets slamming into the cars and road surface all around him. When I realized this, I abruptly stopped firing and braked the bird, watching Kim continue through the gauntlet of cars and then people on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. I was amazed that he hadn't been killed, and wondered if he had been wounded. Either way, I knew he wouldn't stop running from us now.

“You said the middle finger was stoppers!” I yelled to Paul.

“No, I didn't,” he yelled back. “I said the middle finger was killers … think about it, Michael, it makes sense.” He chuckled. “Look at the control menu if you don't believe me.… Are you okay, man? Is the stress getting to you?”

Regardless of who was right about what had been said, the stress definitely was getting to me, to one degree or another. I realized that I had been leaning against an occupied car when the driver suddenly laid on his horn, startling me out of my reverie. After moving away from it, I said to Paul, “You tell me what to do.”

“Just keep him from doubling back,” my friend said. “I'm heading him off.”

I moved the falcon forward until I caught sight of Kim again, and then had to will my body to start moving forward itself, because it was much more natural to stand still when manipulating the flying machine and looking through its eyes.

“He's turning west on Sutter,” I told Paul a minute later.

“Perfect. I'm almost at the other end of the block.”

Both of our falcons turned their respective corners at about the same time, and then we ourselves arrived on each end of the street a little while later. When we did, I saw through my human eyes both falcons hovering in the air in the middle of the block, turning in every direction, seeking Kim from their bird's-eye view. I couldn't see Paul on the other end of the block because of the people, cars, trolleys, and ad holos, but I knew he was scanning his end of the street, like I was mine. None of this yielded any sign of Kim, however, even after a few minutes of searching.

“Did he get past you?” I asked.

“No way.”

“The subway?”

No answer initially … Paul was probably studying a map in his glasses. Then: “Nope. The nearest entrance is just beyond my position.”

“Bloody hell,” I said. “Where is he? He must have gone into a building.”

More pregnant silence as Paul's monster software checked all the businesses on the block. “Not that I can see.”

“Is he diving right now?”

“I don't think so.”

I moved against the corner of the corner building, filled the glasses with the falcon's view, and scanned the street again as thoroughly as I could, keeping some distance from Paul's bird so that we didn't overlap too much. After a few more minutes of this, I gave up and minimized the falcon's view again, only to be startled again by Paul, who was now standing right in front of me.

“Let's check back this way,” he said, gesturing behind me with his head.

“You think he got past me?” I asked.

“Well, you're not exactly in tiptop shape, buddy.” He patted me on the shoulder. “You go this way and I'll go that way, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, and he left, his falcon streaking through the air from the middle of the block and around the corner to the street he had entered. I stood in place for a few moments, staring back down the street we had been searching, a feeling of defeat now added to my anger. My falcon hovered between the high buildings, and the crowd seemed to have thinned out a bit … perhaps some people had been creeped out by the black birds and migrated away or into the stores along the street.

Thinking about the stores drew my attention to the ad holos, which I usually ignored because they were so ubiquitous in the city. But something splintered in the back of my mind, so I studied the fanciest one in my vicinity, which was on the other side of the street and a short distance up the block. It was a big one protruding from the second story of a building, above the entrance to a travel agency, and it alternated between a seascape with a water-ski boat spraying virtual water onto the sidewalk, tuxedos crowded around a spinning roulette wheel in Monte Carlo, and a dusty high-powered jeep filled with adventurers on safari in Nevada. The genetically engineered lions they were hunting leaped down dramatically to the edge of the street, then disappeared. After a few moments, the sequence repeated itself.

Next I looked on my side of the street at a seven-foot-tall hologram filling the air above an ad projector in the sidewalk, displaying real estate that was available for purchase or rental throughout the city. I moved out to the curb and farther so I could get a more unobstructed view of the holo, and saw that it was currently advertising a town home, presenting it in a lifelike yet shrunken three-dimensional reproduction. While I was staring at it, the image dissolved into another three-story for sale, and as it did, I might have seen the shape of a human figure inside the big ad, but thought that it was likely just my imagination. The holo did seem to be slightly distorted, however, so I glanced at the other big one across the street again for comparison.

Then I noticed a similar real estate ad farther down the block on that side, so I brought the falcon down next to it to see if it looked any different from the one closer to me. I couldn't tell in the falcon's camera, which was one step away from reality, so I walked toward the holo house near me and brought the falcon toward it from the other side. As I and the bird closed in on the big ad, people gave us a wide birth and watched from a distance. Soon the only objects on that stretch of sidewalk were me, the virtual building, and the falcon floating on the other side of it. I looked at it through my glasses and through the falcon's view, but couldn't tell for sure if it looked any different from the other. So I slowly stepped toward the holo and stretched my hand out. I moved my body forward gradually, and my hand and arm started disappearing into the ad.…

Kim exploded into me out of the holo with both arms extended, sending me sprawling to the sidewalk, and ran off in the direction I had come from. I instinctively rolled sideways and came off my back into a crouched position facing that direction, my knuckles resting on the cement. But before I could spring up to pursue him, a violent crash behind me ripped my eardrums and pelted me with hot gas and shards of metal, sending me sprawling again, this time onto my stomach. I looked back to see the glowing, smoking remains of the falcon, then realized what had happened. Being inexperienced with the remote, I had held on to it too long, first sending the bird upward with wrists flayed back to stop my fall, then bringing it crashing down when I rolled and pointed my hands down on the pavement. If I had just let go of the stick, presumably the bird would have been fine.

Now even more pissed and homicidal, I yanked out the killer boa and surged around the corner to pursue Kim.

“Paul, I found him, he's on…” I looked around for a street sign and had to crane my neck because the blank black window for the falcon was still showing in the right side of my glasses. I turned it off and could see much better, but then realized there were three ways the tech could have run from here, and I didn't know where he was. “I lost my falcon. Paul, he's somewhere near Bush and Taylor.” A few moments passed. “Paul?”

I continued running straight up Taylor, because that was the most direct route away from where I was, and after a block or so, I thought I heard some screams ahead and to the left. “Paul,” I said again.

“Yeah, buddy,” he finally said. “I'm on California, but don't come over here. Nobody knows who I am because of this getup, but someone will recognize you. I'm leaving the falcon for right now to keep the gawkers at bay. Catch me on Taylor, on the way back to the car.”

I slowed to a jog but kept moving up the street, now hearing Paul's voice modified through the falcon's megaphone, a way that we often cleared a crime scene. Almost immediately I saw him turn the corner, briskly moving toward me. He grabbed my arm and spun me around in the other direction, back to where we had come from.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“You won't believe it,” he said. “This is worse than I thought, and you don't want to see the results.”

Now I grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. I said, “I do,” and wrenched the falcon's remote out of his hand.

“Okay, hold on,” he said, and synced his bird to my glasses.

I felt the now-familiar rush of vertigo when the falcon's view filled mine, and heard its looped announcement telling people to move on, stay back, etc. With the remote, I pulled the bird out of its autopiloted orbit and took it toward what it was circling, which turned out to be a macabre scene, to say the least. One of the retro trolleys was stopped on an empty patch of street, and next to the tracks behind it was the bottom half of Kim's body. It took me only a moment to figure out that the top half was underneath the cable car.