Freedom Incorporated by Peter Tylee (me reader .txt) š
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- Author: Peter Tylee
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Book online Ā«Freedom Incorporated by Peter Tylee (me reader .txt) šĀ». Author Peter Tylee
āOkay, I got it.ā Adrian walked briskly in silence, past the reviving New York streets, toward the monolithic symbol of the commercial world.
āIf you so much as sneeze or wink Iāll blow your fucking head off. Understood?ā
Adrian nodded.
āAnd fix your face. You have blood everywhere.ā
He pinched his nose with a handkerchief until the bleeding stopped and used saliva to dab at the encrusted blood. Then he ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his tie. Heād ruined his jumper after all - half a dozen specks had soaked into the wool and he knew blood was difficult to remove.
Dan calmed his voice so it would pass as normal conversation. āSo, if you were telling the truth, why were you helping Jen to escape?ā
Adrian thought for nearly a minute before finding the right words to phrase his answer. āIām tired.ā
āPardon?ā Dan squinted through his frown.
āItās pretty simple, what part donāt you understand?ā Adrian asked, already wishing heād kept his sarcasm in check. āIām tired. I need a rest. Iām walking out of my job, Iām walking out of the Guild, and Iām tired of them abusing those women.ā
āWomen?ā Shock pinged through Danās brain. āThere are more?ā
āA few,ā Adrian admitted. He felt the shame returning. It sounds so bad when you put it to words. He didnāt share Estebanās philosophy - he didnāt believe the women were better off in the Guild rather than prison. Esteban mightāve been right, but Adrian was tired of witnessing the womenās repeated abuse.
The news stoked Danās already blazing fire and a distended vein on his temple began pulsing in tune with his throbbing heart. But their imminent arrival at PortaNet security severed any further progress in the conversation.
āYou again?ā They eyed Dan suspiciously. Now there were two: an even greater threat, practically a riot. But at least the second man was wearing expensive grey trousers, a collared shirt, a tie, and a well preened - if splotchy - jumper. He looked well enough presented to have worked there.
Adrian stepped forward and invited them to initiate a scan.
āAh, hello sir,ā said the senior guard after confirming Adrianās identity. āI presume youāre here for your meeting?ā
Time slurred while Dan waited for Adrianās response. If the PortaNet executive wanted to break for freedom, heād do it now, with a fistful of armed guards to protect him. Not that theyād react in time. Dan had already decided Adrian Miller would be the first to die, only then would he see about saving himself from the deadly rush of bullets that would surly follow.
āYes, add him to the day-visitor list would you?ā
The guard with the scanner brushed his wand past Danās spine and the device locked onto Tedman Kennedyās signal from Danās pocket. He then integrated the information with PortaNetās security database, granting Dan access to the buildingās internal portals.
āMessed up the times did you?ā The guard asked with a smile, wanting to engage in small talk.
Dan nodded, never moving his eyes from Adrian. āYeah, looks like I did.ā
āOkay, youāre free to enter, if you could just hand over any weapons you might be carrying.ā His eyes roamed over Danās thick coat as he wondered what mysteries it might conceal.
He unhooked the pulse-emitter and reversed the grip, handing it to the guard. It wasnāt every day the musclebound man saw a sonic weapon and he pored over the oddly shaped handgun, breaking off his inspection for long enough to sling a probing look at Dan. What sort of person carried a pulse-emitter?
Dan took advantage of the stir to slip past unquestioned.
One guard, a gaunt man in his early 30s, called after him in a weaselly voice, āDonāt forget to check back with us after the meeting.ā
Dan replied with a saluting gesture and nudged Adrian forward. āKeep moving,ā he muttered quietly. āDonāt look back.ā Dan herded him to the ground-floor portals. There were dozens of them, neatly lined against the far wall. The buildingās innards were a study in understatement. It wasnāt as flashy as Dan had expected for the richest company in the world. Their annual profit was several hundred times greater than the GDP of the United States, yet PortaNet hadnāt spruced up their headquarters the way many giga-corporations had. I guess when everybody knows youāre the richest you donāt need to remind people. But PortaNet reminded people several times a day. Whenever someone stepped inside the white PortaNet circle and jumped instantly somewhere else, he or she was reminded just how indispensable the corporation really was.
āTell me the code for your floor,ā Dan demanded. He wasnāt about to let Adrian place his mittens anywhere near the control panel.
āInternal 65.ā
Dan began pressing the buttons. āSame drill as before. Donāt dare do anything to piss me off.ā
Adrian had no intention of worsening his predicament. The last thing he wanted was an elite bounty hunter tracking him for the remainder of his - likely short - life. He was going to be careful with his disappearance, but Dan made a living out of hunting people whoād tried to vanish, and Adrian didnāt flatter himself into believing he could outwit a professional.
He vanished with a pop and Dan quickly followed, again prepared for anything. Going through the portal was the most dangerous part. For all he knew, Adrian couldāve been waiting to crush his skull with a fire extinguisher. But he wasnāt. He was waiting patiently again, doing nothing to startle his captor.
āItās this way.ā He waved Dan on and wound through the corridors to his office.
Dan entered and closed the door behind them. āMake it quick.ā
āHang on.ā Adrian eased himself into a black-leather, executive chair and pulled it close enough to reach his keyboard. His office was elegant, dominated by an enormous semicircular hardwood table that sported dozens of executive toys. He even had the obligatory set of perpetual motion gadgets. The biggest was still moving, its spoked metal wheels spinning due to a pair of strong magnets and clever engineering. Itād been going since heād started it, three months earlier, but Dan found it offensive and knocked the wheel to the floor.
He was in a destructive mood.
āI have to log in yet.ā Ten seconds felt like a terrible burden to endure. How long would it take the damn computer to boot? And Adrian mistyped his password on the first attempt. When he finally had access, he launched a custom PortaNet application and entered the data warehouse. Not that thisāll do him any good, he thought smugly. Heās screwed in the noggin if he thinks he can get in with the SAT.
āHere.ā He pointed at his 21-inch fractal-bacteria screen. āThatās what you wanted.ā
āCan you add me to the authorisation list for that portal?ā Dan asked while reading the plethora of other fields to check for anything unexpected. He was still suspicious that Adrian might be showing him a phoney SAT.
Adrian shook his head. āNo, not even the security team can do that - they can only reset the entire list. The clients are the only ones with access to maintain security records. And, to be blunt, I donāt have a fucking clue who that would be. Itād be one of the founding members I suppose, or someone computer-savvy in the inner sanctum, but Iām not privy to that kind of information.ā
Dan had no inkling what he was jabbering about. āWhat do you mean - founding members, inner sanctum? What kind of place is it?ā
āItās a club.ā Adrian blew his nose and it began bleeding again. He sounded nasal behind his handkerchief. āā¦after a fashion. Itās called the Guild.ā
āAnd thatās where you keep women against their will?ā
Adrian nodded, embarrassed when his stomach gurgled. Heād skipped lunch because he was so busy preparing for his new life.
āHow many members does this club have?ā Dan pressed, wondering whether heād need more firepower. He already knew heād need Simonās help. But maybe thatās not enoughā¦
āIt varies.ā Adrian shrugged. āItās busier on weekends. There are usually a dozen or so, but I doubt thereād be more than twenty.ā
Twenty? Danās hopes faded; heād relied on there being a maximum of seven or eight. He jotted the SAT on the same piece of paper that held Estebanās mobile number. Now whatām I gonna do? he wondered, referring to Adrian. It was a difficult question with no simple answer. Heād already been deliberating for an hour without progress. Two days ago, he wouldnāt have hesitated. Two hours ago, he wouldnāt have flinched. And now? This is a person, someone with a conscience if Iām to believe his intention to save Jen. But he couldnāt just forgive and forget, and he couldnāt let him go without punishment. So what will I do with you, Adrian Miller?
Adrian caught Danās pensive expression and incorrectly guessed what he was thinking. āThe SAT wonāt get you in. You need my helpā¦ Iām the only one with access.ā
āNo.ā Dan shook his head. āYou donāt have access, your chip does.ā
That sent a chill through Adrianās bones and he became acutely aware of the very valuable silicon wafer wedged next to his spine.
Seeing Adrianās complexion pale didnāt quench Danās thirst for torment, it only whetted his appetite for more. He was tempted to scare Adrian to the point where heād loose control of his bowels and defecate in his pants. But thereās time for that later. āI donāt need your filthy chip. You donāt know as much as you think about portal travel.ā He held up a finger to silence Adrianās rebuke. āBut neither do I need you. So perhaps you could tell me in 50 words or less why I shouldnāt blow your brains out.ā
Adrian stumbled over his seemingly swollen tongue and uttered nothing more intelligent than a slurred grunt. His second attempt was more effective: āBecause Iām an ally.ā
It was true - he seemed keen to help.
āAnd I want Jen to get out unscathed. Iām not a bad personā¦ā
But that can never make amends for killing Katherine. He wondered what his wife would think if he let one of her killers go free. Yes, but what would she think if I kill him in retribution? At these moments, he didnāt want to believe in an afterlife, a judgemental God, or the possibility of blackening his soul. If these things existed, then by killing Adrian heād go to the furnace of hell and never see Katherine again. On the other hand, if he wanted justice heād have to dole it out himself. He had no evidence with which to prosecute him, and even if he had, he knew a man of Adrian Millerās stature would never see the inside of a prison. He had people ready to pull strings for him. He was connected.
āDo you believe in God?ā
Adrian recoiled from the odd question. āNever gave it much thought.ā
āSo think now.ā Dan sat on a corner of Adrianās wrap-around desk and balanced his Colt in a two-hand grip, bracing himself to pull the trigger if the man said anything to warrant it.
But Adrian didnāt believe Dan would actually kill him. He believed his gesture of goodwill toward Jen had automatically transformed him into one of the āgood guysā. He believed his single act of humanity, which any half-decent person would have done long ago, would act as a buffer from Danās wrath. āThen no, I donāt think thereās a God.ā He was the same as everybody else, too busy to think about it and too lazy to commit energy to finding his spirituality. The rise of Xantex didnāt coincide
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