day’s hard toil. It was a long ride. Plenty of time for silent deliberation.
What was I? A replica, a zombie, a ghost, the real Martin Robinson? Did I come from a pod, a lab or beyond the grave? Was I on my way back to reality or was this all a dream? Had killing Dee merely been my warped mind’s way of separating me from reality forever?
I shut my eyes and let the crazy thoughts slip from my mind. It didn’t matter. I’d be in the city soon, where all answers—or death—would come. Thinking was redundant. I let myself relax and nabbed a few hours’ sleep.
Nobody was waiting for me at the station. I stood on the platform and breathed the fumes of this orifice of the city, much as I had a year ago. But when I’d come before, it had been to start a new life. Now I was here to finish one.
A hand fell on my shoulder. With a sense of destiny I turned to face my captor, only to find—surprising me once again—the ever-grinning Paucar Wami. “I wasn’t expecting you for some time yet,” he said.
“What are you doing here?” I frowned. “You told me you were getting out.”
He shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“We will discuss it on the way,” he said, sliding in front of me and heading for the nearest exit. “The Cardinal has revoked the call for your head, but that might only be a way of snaring you. I don’t think anyone is watching but who can say for sure. There could be a dozen guns trained on us right now.”
It was a convincing argument. I followed him quickly, reserving my questions. His scooter was parked outside. He didn’t ask where I wanted to go, just hopped on and kicked it into life as I climbed on behind.
“I take it The Cardinal didn’t send you to fetch me,” I said as we cut through the traffic around the station.
“Hardly,” Wami snorted. “I killed one of his men. He doesn’t take lightly to his pawns turning on one another without permission.”
“Then how did you know I was coming?”
“Our blind friends of course. They told me you’d return. They didn’t know the exact day but they knew the place. They said it would be worth my while staying to ensure your safe passage through the city.” He turned down an alley. “Damned if I know how they found me.”
“Why didn’t you ask them?”
“I didn’t speak with them directly. They sent a couple of messengers who knew nothing. I tortured both of them, to be positive, but neither could tell me anything.”
“Where are you taking me?” I asked as we turned down another narrow alley.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” he grunted.
Wami dropped me at the front door of Party Central. Reaching inside his jacket, he handed me a tiny transmitter. “Wear this. I want to hear what he says. I haven’t gone to all this trouble only to be excluded from the final revelations.”
“What makes you think there’ll be any?”
“The blind men’s messengers said that through you I would learn the truth.”
I pinned the transmitter to my shirt, just beneath the collar. I didn’t look upon Paucar Wami as an ally—he’d rip my heart out if it served his purpose, and not think twice about it—but he’d saved my life a few times now. I owed him.
“Enjoy your meeting.” Wami grinned and peeled away.
Shocked faces greeted me in the lobby. I smiled at a startled receptionist and requested a meeting with The Cardinal. She buzzed up and stared with disbelief as I slipped off my shoes and handed them over. Moments later Ford Tasso appeared, face dark, eyes black, fists clenched. “You came back,” he growled.
“I was homesick.” I shrugged.
He smiled viciously. “You’ve got balls, kid. I like you, even though you killed Vincent and led me on a wild-goose chase. I think we could have been friends under different circumstances. I’ll miss you.”
“I’m not dead yet,” I told him.
“Aren’t you?” he said.
We boarded the elevator and ascended to the fifteenth. Everybody we passed in the corridor shot us darting, curious glances. They were stunned to see me. Ford left me at the door to The Cardinal’s office. “See you later,” he said.
“You think so?”
“Of course. I always clear up the bodies around here.”
I entered.
The Cardinal’s face was scarred and puffy, proof that our fight hadn’t been a figment of my imagination, that my healing was real, that my year in the city hadn’t been a