us, and there's still a chance we can.”
“But what will happen to Ian?”
“It's too late for him,” Maggie said. “He's beyond saving.”
Michelle's eyes began to cloud over. “I don't know where he is.”
“You can call him. We'll run a trace.”
“He won't answer. You can't track him if he doesn't answer.”
“That's why we need you to call. He'll answer for you.”
“No. I can't do it.”
“They're going to kill Adela,” Maggie insisted. “Ian and Horst. They sold her execution to the highest bidder. That's what they do. Don't you understand? They smuggle death row inmates out of the Zoo, and they sell them.”
“So? Those people deserve to die.”
“Not Adela. Adela's innocent. Your brother framed her. He killed her parents and set her up to take the fall. Some rich offworlder is going to torture her, and then he's going to kill her. He could be torturing her right now, Liz. She's already lost her parents. She's been through enough.”
Liz stopped with the curlers, although she'd missed two. They were both on the same side of her head, making her hair look as unbalanced as her mental state. She was staring off again with blank, vacant eyes that said nobody was home. “You can't make me betray my brother,” she stated unconvincingly.
“You already have,” I said. “You called Maggie. You knew then that it might come to this, and you still made the call.”
She kept her eyes aimed up and out, like she was talking to somebody floating in the air. “I knew Hector Juarez,” she whispered. “He was a pervert. Yuri and Horst used the Libre studios to film my… my movies. Hector would let us in late at night, when nobody else was there. He liked to watch. He'd always be there during filming. I had a hard time performing when he was there, always staring at me with these hungry eyes. I asked Horst to make him leave, but he was afraid he'd lose the studio space. There aren't any other quality studios on Lagarto. I eventually learned to pretend he wasn't there. I'd come in for my scene, and I wouldn't look at him. When he'd stand by the camera to get the best view, I would keep my eyes on my partner, or sometimes I'd just close them. If I didn't look at him, I could tell myself he wasn't there.”
“Tell us about that night, the night he and his wife were killed.”
“Ian came to me that night. He had bloody clothes, and he had burns on his wrists. I wanted to clean him up, but he wanted to… to
…” Her mouth was still open, but the words just stopped coming out of her, like she was a windup toy that had run out.
I gave the turnkey a twist. “He wanted to have sex, didn't he?”
She nodded-just barely. “He was passionate. He told me he had just broken up a robbery. He said they had lase-blades, and the burns he'd gotten were defensive. He said he could've died. That's what I thought it was about. I thought he'd just had a near death experience and he wanted to, you know, celebrate. I didn't know about Hector then. I heard about it the next day, but I didn't make the connection. All they said on the news was that Hector and Margarita were murdered in their own home. To be honest, I didn't really care that much at the time. When the news said the daughter confessed, I believed it. I had no reason not to. I figured that with a father like that, it was no wonder the daughter was so screwed up.
“But then I saw a news report about the trial. It had to be a month later, maybe more. And they mentioned the lase-whip. They'd never said that before. Up 'til then, they'd just say ‘brutally murdered’ or ‘senselessly slaughtered.’ They never said anything about a lase-whip until it came up in that trial. That's when I knew he did it. He did it, and then he came to be with me right after.”
Liz looked like a ghost. Maggie looked like she was about to shiver.
“And then you called Maggie,” I said.
“I don't care about Hector. He was a pervert. But why did Ian have to kill his wife, too? And the girl, she never did anything wrong. How come he has to be so cruel?”
“He's not that little boy you used to take care of, anymore,” I said. “He's changed. The brother you knew is already dead.”
“But that can't be. He's still in there somewhere. He has to be.”
I shook my head. “You really think Ian could do the things he does if the brother you knew was still in there?”
“Horst did this to him, you know. Ian was a good boy until he met Horst.”
I said, “We don't have much time, Liz.”
She looked at me, her eyes begging for mercy, begging me to tell her she didn't need to do this, that there was some other way.
“Call him,” I said.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Try it again,” I said.
“He's not going to answer.”
“One more time,” I said for the third time.
She did it, and a second later, Ian's holo blinked into existence. Gotcha, asshole. Maggie was already up, holding out her digital pad, showing me the map with the blinking red dot.
“What's wrong?” said Holo-Ian with a hint of panic in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“I–I'm okay,” Liz responded with a stammer. “I just needed to talk to you.”
“Don't scare me like that. You called me six times.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that your partner was here. She came with Juno, and they started asking all kinds of questions. I thought you'd want to know.”
“Did you tell them anything?”
“No.”
“Good. Listen, when I'm done here, I'll come by. Okay?”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Liz didn't say anything.
“I'll be by soon, okay?”
Again she didn't speak, her eyes getting glassy.
“Okay?” he repeated.
“Okay,” she said.
Holo-Ian vanished. Liz kept looking at the place where he'd stood. I opened my mouth to say something, but didn't. Maggie was at the door. She had it opened, with one foot standing in the hall. I followed her out.
I hustled down the steps to the pier, almost slipping twice but not slowing down. Maggie was already at the bottom, waiting for me. We split the cache of weapons. Maggie took two lase-pistols in addition to her standard issue. She had one in hand, one in holster and one strapped to her ankle.
I kept the broad-beam. It had a limited range, but it didn't require much accuracy. I checked my three blades, waistband, ass pocket, and ankle. I slung the lase-rifle over my shoulder and carried the broad-beam lefty.
We jogged across the quay, sticking to the shadows and keeping our bodies hunched over, making ourselves smaller targets. A fence separated us from the gangway, which ran diagonally up from bow to stern of the Jungle Pride. The gate was hitched but not locked, and in an attempt to make as little noise as possible, Maggie opened it in super slo-mo.
We stepped onto the gangway. I took the lead and crept slowly up the steep slope. I kept my eyes peeled on the top of the gangway, ready to fry the whole fucking area with my broad-beam. I let my hip rub against the railing, using it as a guide so I wouldn't have to look where I was stepping. It wasn't raining, but the air was soggy, and the railings were sweating giant-sized drops that soaked through my pants and ran down my leg. The gangway
