A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle) by Michael G. Munz Page A
Authors: Michael G. Munz
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count."
"Think you can do me a favor and get a message to him if he comes in?"
He scowled. "I ain't a bulletin board here, kid."
Michael scowled back this time. "Kid?"
Marc slid some more cash across the bar at the man. "It's just a message."
The bartender sucked his teeth, watching them a moment, and then took the money. "A short message."
Michael wrote his number down on a napkin and gave it to him. "Just tell him his old roommate is looking for him."
He pocketed the number without looking at it. "He'll get it. If he comes in. Bounty on 'im, so who's to say?"
"I appreciate it. You sure you haven't seen him? You don't know where we'd find him?"
"'S'all I know, kid. Yer the one that lived with him. 'Scuse me." The man across the bar was waving for him. With a nod, he left Marc and Michael to their drinks.
Michael took his first swallow of the beer. "Well, it's a start."
"Yeah. " Marc looked around. "Think he'll get the message?"
"I don't know. He's right; Diomedes is wanted, maybe he'll lie low. But I think he was wanted before this started. I guess it might depend on how much heat he thinks is on him."
Marc nodded and then held up his glass. "You know I don't even like beer?"
A short while later, Lars picked the half-empty glasses off the bar and wiped it down as he watched the two men leave. No one was trying to get his attention. He wiped his hands and picked up the phone. The number was dialed and ringing a moment later.
Someone picked up, answering only with silence.
"Hey, it's Lars."
" Yeah? "
"Two guys just came askin' for ya. One said he used to be yer roommate."
" Was he? "
"Could be. Been a while since I seen him, but yeah, think so."
" And the other? "
"Didn't recognize him. Data visor, kinda scrawny. Didn't say much. If he was a freelancer, I'm a damn nun."
" Anything else? "
"Just a message. Roommate left a number. Want it?"
Silence.
"You want it?"
" No. "
T he line clicked dead.
Chapter 13
Diomedes set his phone down on the passenger's seat. The car's engine rumbled. Idled. Traffic moved slowly, when it moved at all. He gripped the wheel and squeezed, waiting.
Paying off Lars had been smart. Diomedes needed assets. Eyes. Ears. He'd been betrayed. He was wanted. Lars would likely betray him sooner or later too, unless he took revenge on the one who'd sold him out. Only the woman who hired him knew. Only she could have placed the camera. She'd regret it.
Michael was looking for him. Why was Michael looking for him?
The voice came, deep and large like always, to guide him. The same reason everyone else is looking for you, it told him. Just like the others, come to find you for the same reason: there's a reward. He betrayed you before. Pulled a gun on you, after all you did for him. Now he's coming back to do it again and cash in.
Of course that was it. Diomedes nodded to himself, to the voice. He'd learned to trust it, so much so that when the second voice came, it was barely a whisper.
Michael let you go before, it said.
What?
He let you go. He could have shot you. He let you go.
Michael betrayed you! shot the large voice.
But he let you go. He's a friend. You need a friend.
That's what y ou said the last time. Protected him, taught him, and he betrayed you. Friends die. Friends betray. Friends invite weakness. Trust is weakness! You trusted the woman who hired you, and look what happened. You'll take care of her, find out what she knows. Then you'll take care of Michael, like you should have done already.
The traffic moved. Diomedes pushed the car forward.
No, came the small voice. Not Michael.
Why not?
No.
The voices drifted away to argue. The Marquand building was ahead. He'd seen her enter there, days ago. He'd guessed, he'd looked, and she was there. He couldn't take her in the Corporate District. Too many eyes. But he could watch. He could wait until she left it. Today, he waited.
Up the street, a delivery truck had crashed. Traffic oozed its way around it. He
"Think you can do me a favor and get a message to him if he comes in?"
He scowled. "I ain't a bulletin board here, kid."
Michael scowled back this time. "Kid?"
Marc slid some more cash across the bar at the man. "It's just a message."
The bartender sucked his teeth, watching them a moment, and then took the money. "A short message."
Michael wrote his number down on a napkin and gave it to him. "Just tell him his old roommate is looking for him."
He pocketed the number without looking at it. "He'll get it. If he comes in. Bounty on 'im, so who's to say?"
"I appreciate it. You sure you haven't seen him? You don't know where we'd find him?"
"'S'all I know, kid. Yer the one that lived with him. 'Scuse me." The man across the bar was waving for him. With a nod, he left Marc and Michael to their drinks.
Michael took his first swallow of the beer. "Well, it's a start."
"Yeah. " Marc looked around. "Think he'll get the message?"
"I don't know. He's right; Diomedes is wanted, maybe he'll lie low. But I think he was wanted before this started. I guess it might depend on how much heat he thinks is on him."
Marc nodded and then held up his glass. "You know I don't even like beer?"
A short while later, Lars picked the half-empty glasses off the bar and wiped it down as he watched the two men leave. No one was trying to get his attention. He wiped his hands and picked up the phone. The number was dialed and ringing a moment later.
Someone picked up, answering only with silence.
"Hey, it's Lars."
" Yeah? "
"Two guys just came askin' for ya. One said he used to be yer roommate."
" Was he? "
"Could be. Been a while since I seen him, but yeah, think so."
" And the other? "
"Didn't recognize him. Data visor, kinda scrawny. Didn't say much. If he was a freelancer, I'm a damn nun."
" Anything else? "
"Just a message. Roommate left a number. Want it?"
Silence.
"You want it?"
" No. "
T he line clicked dead.
Chapter 13
Diomedes set his phone down on the passenger's seat. The car's engine rumbled. Idled. Traffic moved slowly, when it moved at all. He gripped the wheel and squeezed, waiting.
Paying off Lars had been smart. Diomedes needed assets. Eyes. Ears. He'd been betrayed. He was wanted. Lars would likely betray him sooner or later too, unless he took revenge on the one who'd sold him out. Only the woman who hired him knew. Only she could have placed the camera. She'd regret it.
Michael was looking for him. Why was Michael looking for him?
The voice came, deep and large like always, to guide him. The same reason everyone else is looking for you, it told him. Just like the others, come to find you for the same reason: there's a reward. He betrayed you before. Pulled a gun on you, after all you did for him. Now he's coming back to do it again and cash in.
Of course that was it. Diomedes nodded to himself, to the voice. He'd learned to trust it, so much so that when the second voice came, it was barely a whisper.
Michael let you go before, it said.
What?
He let you go. He could have shot you. He let you go.
Michael betrayed you! shot the large voice.
But he let you go. He's a friend. You need a friend.
That's what y ou said the last time. Protected him, taught him, and he betrayed you. Friends die. Friends betray. Friends invite weakness. Trust is weakness! You trusted the woman who hired you, and look what happened. You'll take care of her, find out what she knows. Then you'll take care of Michael, like you should have done already.
The traffic moved. Diomedes pushed the car forward.
No, came the small voice. Not Michael.
Why not?
No.
The voices drifted away to argue. The Marquand building was ahead. He'd seen her enter there, days ago. He'd guessed, he'd looked, and she was there. He couldn't take her in the Corporate District. Too many eyes. But he could watch. He could wait until she left it. Today, he waited.
Up the street, a delivery truck had crashed. Traffic oozed its way around it. He
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