Freedom Incorporated - Peter Tylee (best biographies to read TXT) 📗

Let’s get this over with. When we reach security, you’re going to tell them we have a meeting and ask them to scan my chip into the authorised access list. Got it?”

“Okay, I got it.” Adrian walked briskly in silence, past the reviving New York streets, toward the monolithic symbol of the commercial world.

“If you so much as sneeze or wink I’ll blow your fucking head off. Understood?”

Adrian nodded.

“And fix your face. You have blood everywhere.”

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. He’d 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. “So, if you were telling the truth, why were you helping Jen to escape?”

Adrian thought for nearly a minute before finding the right words to phrase his answer. “I’m tired.”

“Pardon?” Dan squinted through his frown.

“It’s pretty simple, what part don’t you understand?” Adrian asked, already wishing he’d kept his sarcasm in check. “I’m tired. I need a rest. I’m walking out of my job, I’m walking out of the Guild, and I’m tired of them abusing those women.”

“Women?” Shock pinged through Dan’s brain. “There are more?”

“A few,” Adrian admitted. He felt the shame returning. It sounds so bad when you put it to words. He didn’t share Esteban’s philosophy - he didn’t believe the women were better off in the Guild rather than prison. Esteban might’ve been right, but Adrian was tired of witnessing the women’s repeated abuse.

The news stoked Dan’s 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.

“You again?” 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.

“Ah, hello sir,” said the senior guard after confirming Adrian’s identity. “I presume you’re here for your meeting?”

Time slurred while Dan waited for Adrian’s response. If the PortaNet executive wanted to break for freedom, he’d do it now, with a fistful of armed guards to protect him. Not that they’d 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.

“Yes, add him to the day-visitor list would you?”

The guard with the scanner brushed his wand past Dan’s spine and the device locked onto Tedman Kennedy’s signal from Dan’s pocket. He then integrated the information with PortaNet’s security database, granting Dan access to the building’s internal portals.

“Messed up the times did you?” The guard asked with a smile, wanting to engage in small talk.

Dan nodded, never moving his eyes from Adrian. “Yeah, looks like I did.”

“Okay, you’re free to enter, if you could just hand over any weapons you might be carrying.” His eyes roamed over Dan’s 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 wasn’t 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, “Don’t forget to check back with us after the meeting.”

Dan replied with a saluting gesture and nudged Adrian forward. “Keep moving,” he muttered quietly. “Don’t look back.” Dan herded him to the ground-floor portals. There were dozens of them, neatly lined against the far wall. The building’s innards were a study in understatement. It wasn’t 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 hadn’t spruced up their headquarters the way many giga-corporations had. I guess when everybody knows you’re the richest you don’t 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.

“Tell me the code for your floor,” Dan demanded. He wasn’t about to let Adrian place his mittens anywhere near the control panel.

“Internal 65.”

Dan began pressing the buttons. “Same drill as before. Don’t dare do anything to piss me off.”

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 who’d tried to vanish, and Adrian didn’t 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 could’ve been waiting to crush his skull with a fire extinguisher. But he wasn’t. He was waiting patiently again, doing nothing to startle his captor.

“It’s this way.” He waved Dan on and wound through the corridors to his office.

Dan entered and closed the door behind them. “Make it quick.”

“Hang on.” 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. It’d been going since he’d started it, three months earlier, but Dan found it offensive and knocked the wheel to the floor.

He was in a destructive mood.

“I have to log in yet.” 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 this’ll do him any good, he thought smugly. He’s screwed in the noggin if he thinks he can get in with the SAT.

“Here.” He pointed at his 21-inch fractal-bacteria screen. “That’s what you wanted.”

“Can you add me to the authorisation list for that portal?” 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. “No, 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 don’t have a fucking clue who that would be. It’d be one of the founding members I suppose, or someone computer-savvy in the inner sanctum, but I’m not privy to that kind of information.”

Dan had no inkling what he was jabbering about. “What do you mean - founding members, inner sanctum? What kind of place is it?”

“It’s a club.” Adrian blew his nose and it began bleeding again. He sounded nasal behind his handkerchief. “…after a fashion. It’s called the Guild.”

“And that’s where you keep women against their will?”

Adrian nodded, embarrassed when his stomach gurgled. He’d skipped lunch because he was so busy preparing for his new life.

“How many members does this club have?” Dan pressed, wondering whether he’d need more firepower. He already knew he’d need Simon’s help. But maybe that’s not enough…

“It varies.” Adrian shrugged. “It’s busier on weekends. There are usually a dozen or so, but I doubt there’d be more than twenty.”

Twenty? Dan’s hopes faded; he’d relied on there being a maximum of seven or eight. He jotted the SAT on the same piece of paper that held Esteban’s mobile number. Now what’m I gonna do? he wondered, referring to Adrian. It was a difficult question with no simple answer. He’d already been deliberating for an hour without progress. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Two hours ago, he wouldn’t have flinched. And now? This is a person, someone with a conscience if I’m to believe his intention to save Jen. But he couldn’t just forgive and forget, and he couldn’t let him go without punishment. So what will I do with you, Adrian Miller?

Adrian caught Dan’s pensive expression and incorrectly guessed what he was thinking. “The SAT won’t get you in. You need my help… I’m the only one with access.”

“No.” Dan shook his head. “You don’t have access, your chip does.”

That sent a chill through Adrian’s bones and he became acutely aware of the very valuable silicon wafer wedged next to his spine.

Seeing Adrian’s complexion pale didn’t quench Dan’s thirst for torment, it only whetted his appetite for more. He was tempted to scare Adrian to the point where he’d loose control of his bowels and defecate in his pants. But there’s time for that later. “I don’t need your filthy chip. You don’t know as much as you think about portal travel.” He held up a finger to silence Adrian’s rebuke. “But neither do I need you. So perhaps you could tell me in 50 words or less why I shouldn’t blow your brains out.”

Adrian stumbled over his seemingly swollen tongue and uttered nothing more intelligent than a slurred grunt. His second attempt was more effective: “Because I’m an ally.”

It was true - he seemed keen to help.

“And I want Jen to get out unscathed. I’m not a bad person…”

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 didn’t want to believe in an afterlife, a judgemental God, or the possibility of blackening his soul. If these things existed, then by killing Adrian he’d go to the furnace of hell and never see Katherine again. On the other hand, if he wanted justice he’d 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 Miller’s stature would never see the inside of a prison. He had people ready to pull strings for him. He was connected.

“Do you believe in God?”

Adrian recoiled from the odd question. “Never gave it much thought.”

“So think now.” Dan sat on a corner of Adrian’s 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 didn’t believe Dan would actually kill him. He believed his gesture of goodwill toward Jen had automatically transformed him into one of the ‘good guys’. He believed his single act of humanity, which any half-decent person would have done long ago, would act as a buffer from Dan’s wrath. “Then no, I don’t think there’s a God.” 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 didn’t coincide