Remains by Mark W. Tiedemann

Author:Mark W. Tiedemann [Tiedemann, Mark W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Eleven – AEA, 2118

Day oozed through the semi-opaque window like liquefied ivory. Nemily lay on her side, staring at it as though she had never seen light before.

When she finally rolled over she found herself alone. Her clothes had been picked up, folded neatly, and placed on a chair by the window. She rummaged through them, looking for her augment case.

“Excuse me.”

The voice startled her. She spun around. A man dressed in a simple, neatly cut dark suit stood in the doorway, watching her. She did not know him and was about to ask if he was a friend of Mace’s when she noticed the bright yellow ID badge hanging from his lapel: Structural Authority security.

“Yes...?”

“Are you a guest of Mr. Preston’s?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Please get dressed and come downstairs.”

He left the doorway and she heard his tread descending the steps.

Nemily quickly put on the evening dress. She felt foolishly overdressed, but Mace was much too large for any of his clothes to fit—besides, she did not know where he kept them.

Downstairs, the floor of the turret seemed filled with security people. The man who had asked her to come down stood on the steps, waiting for her. He motioned for her to come to him. When she reached him, he grasped her arm, took her pouch and led her the rest of the way.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“What is your name?”

“Nemily Dollard.”

They reached the floor. Several faces turned to look at her; most of them looked away after a moment. She could not see Mace.

“What is your relationship with Mr. Preston?”

“A...friend. We—”

“Ms. Dollard.”

She looked around. Linder Koeln came toward them. He smiled briefly, then spoke to the SA man.

“I can take her. She works for PolyCarb.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Koeln fished a chit from his jacket and handed it to the man. He released Nemily’s arm long enough to pull a reader from his pocket and insert the chit. After a few moments he nodded and returned the chit to Koeln.

“Very well, sir, I give her into your charge.”

“Thank you. Ms. Dollard?”

“My augments,” she said.

“I’ll have to retain these for examination—”

“I need them. They’re my personal augments.”

“Do you have a warrant for anyone else’s property than Mr. Preston’s?” Koeln asked.

“The warrant covers what we find on the premises. Once we’ve examined them she can get them back.”

“How long?” Nemily asked.

“Agent”—Koeln leaned forward to read the man’s tag—”Rawls. You’ve remanded Ms. Dollard to my custody I’m sure such consideration covers her personal belongings as well.”

“No, sir, it does not. If you’d care to press the issue, I can retain both the augments and Ms. Dollard and request that you leave the scene.”

“I see. Very well. Thank you. Ms. Dollard, please come along.”

“But—”

“We’ll get them back quickly. Right now, please come with me.”

Reluctantly, she let Koeln lead her through the maze of impassive people. Her head swiveled. Finally she saw Mace, near his front door, sitting on the floor, arms behind him. He looked angry and bitter and did not look up at her as Koeln guided her outside and down the path to the pedistry.

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