2
10:00 am
I went up on the roof first thing this morning to figure out how our cat burglar dropped in on us. God, do I hate heights! My foray was worth it though. I found the lead I needed in the form of a black, nylon rope snaking down the side of the building beside us, anchored to the roof ten storeys up. She must have jumped from there and used the rope to arc over here. Unbelievable! She really did drop out of the sky.
The guard next door was happy to hand over yesterday’s surveillance video for a little cash. And there she was in full color, our cat, courtesy of Jam Pony Messenger Services. It’s the perfect cover for a cat burglar, legitimate access to innumerable locations, unlimited opportunities for reconnaissance. She probably cased out the apartment yesterday afternoon after delivering her package. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were still a few well placed pieces of tape here or there, keeping a few key doors unlocked for future forays.
Peter caught me staring at her. What did he expect? She has the most breathtaking face I have ever seen. But it’s more than just a beautiful face. It’s those eyes, those forever eyes. There is a depth in those eyes I’ve never seen before. What is she hiding in those depths? I could have searched those eyes for hours.
4:00 pm
Her name is Max.
With a little more cash and a few well-placed questions at Jam Pony, I got her name and her address. The building is only ten years old, but crumbling from disrepair. It was never finished, partially studded floors, unfinished drywall, roughed in fixtures, no appliances. I remember the ads for this development. "Downtown Living at its Finest". Then the Pulse hit and everything stopped. Now just a skeleton remains, all hints of potential glory worn away by neglect. Yet dozens of buildings like this have been taken over by squatters desperate for housing. In this world, it is the lap of luxury compared to the buses and cars so many people live in. Max’s place is better than most. She has running water, cold of course, and she even has a hot plate in the kitchen. She is obviously siphoning power from the city power grid. Probably rigged up the connection herself. It was a typical single girl’s apartment, makeshift furniture, junkyard finds, clothes everywhere, a little food in the kitchen. Typical except for the bottle of Tryptophan in the bathroom.
I just finished going through the Manticore file with a fine tooth comb. My hunch about the genetics lab is probably correct. I specifically remember the mention of Tryptophan in that file. There were a couple dozen of the kids. They used recombinant DNA to design them. Then after the in-vitro work, they recruited surrogate mothers to carry them to term. It appears they were designed to become advanced infantry solders, officers even. They have their design flaws, not the least of which is the inability of their brains to produce sufficient seratonin. The medication of choice is Tryptophan. They were working on a gene therapy for the condition, but at the time of the report, their results were unsuccessful. I wonder how Max has been dealing with the seizures all these years.
A dozen of these kids escaped in ’09. They must have been about ten years old then. It’s almost incomprehensible to think that a few ten-year-olds escaped a heavily guarded military facility. What did they build into these kids? Is Max one of them? They have tattoos on their necks, an identifying barcode. I wonder if I will be able to get close enough to see Max’s.
10:00 pm
I tracked Max down at Crash this evening. She is even more beautiful in person than she is on video. I barely know her, yet there is an inexplicable attraction and crackling tension between us. I’ve never felt this way with another woman before. She is so different from anyone I’ve ever known. I’ve spent the whole day tracking her down and I still can’t get her off my mind.
I love her sassy attitude, even her cynicism. She had a sarcastic comment for everything I said. "Rich people decorating their houses to match the cat. Those good old days?" What a comeback! She claims she doesn’t have a social conscience, that she doesn’t care about anything but going fast on her bike. I don’t believe that, not with the depths in those eyes. When I see her tonight, I’m going to call her on it.
We talked for all of five minutes outside Crash before she pulled another fast exit. This is becoming a habit with her. But I know I’ll be seeing her soon. When she discovers the little gift I left her back at her apartment, she will be back. Maybe I can convince her to stay for dinner. The food is cooked and the table is set. She’ll be here any time now. This little game we’re playing is the most fun I’ve had in ages.
11:00 pm
My cat dropped in for dinner, but she didn’t stay.
It was easier catching a glimpse of her barcode than I thought. No girl is immune to some well-directed flattery, not even Max. And it’s so easy to give when you are at least partially sincere. Just tell them the truth, but blow it up a little, add a little spice. Then give them a look like you might not mean it, that you know you are feeding them a line. Then at the last moment, look away, like they caught you saying too much, that maybe you did mean it after all.
It worked with Max. The lines came out perfectly. "The singularly most beautiful face I have ever seen." "I can’t get you off my mind." "I need to know everything about you." The only problem was that there was more truth to them than even I intended. I’m not immune to Max either. When I leaned in to find her barcode, I would rather have kissed that beautiful neck of hers. Maybe I should have. But then Eyes Only took over. The barcode was there, as I knew it would be. I should have just ignored it, but I didn’t. I backed away and went straight to business. Of course, the mission has to take priority. It always takes precedence over anything else, as it very well should.
It seems Max’s conscience is not quite as developed as I’d hoped. Even the offer to find the others like her wasn’t enough to bring her along. She may not be working with us tomorrow, but I’m not going to let her off the hook so easily. This game is far from over.