Metal Fatigue (51 page)

"Wouldn't dream of it." Roads met her intensity with a smile, admiring her bravado and accepting her feelings on the matter without questioning them, even though he was certain they weren't quite so clear-cut. His own weren't, especially about pressing the Mayor for favours.

"Besides," she added, "I haven't said I'm going to, yet."

"At least you're interested," he said, with genuine feeling.

"Just don't wait too long. Martin leaves in five days."

"So soon?" Roads raised an eyebrow. "I thought he'd stick around to make sure the Reassimilation goes smoothly."

"Why? It's not
his
problem. He came here to deal with the Head, and that's all. The paperwork can be left to the politicians."

"True," said Roads. Although he felt slightly guilty about abandoning the city in such a mess, it wasn't his job, either, to midwife Kennedy through its difficult rebirth. It had to do it itself, or fail trying.

He had only himself to worry about. His indenture to the city was over.

"Martin's missing his son, I think," Barney said. She stepped away from the rail and looked pointedly back to the shore. The wind had stiffened as evening fell around them. "And he's probably wondering where his jeep has got to."

Roads nodded, taking the hint. It was time to head back. There remained, however, one final issue to deal with before he could cut free of the previous week's events.

"You go on ahead," he said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'll catch you up in a minute."

"You're sure? I don't mind waiting."

"No. I just need some time alone."

She hesitated, then nodded once. "I'll meet you at the jeep, then," she said. "Don't be long."

"I won't." He watched as she turned and walked unhurriedly along the pitted road. The wind tugged at the hem of her new coat, making it flap with every step. The material was much lighter than he was used to seeing in Kennedy, but clearly no less wind-resistant. The exchange between the RUSA and Kennedy Polis had already begun, it seemed.

When she had passed beyond the range of unamplified eyesight, he turned back to the rail and reached into his pocket.

Leaning forward with his good hand clenched into a fist on the rail, he peered down at the surface of the river. The grey water churned sluggishly, becoming darker by the second as night fell. What secrets it kept in its unfathomable depths would remain hidden forever. And perhaps, Roads wondered, that was a good thing, ultimately.

The doctors in the RSD medical unit had said that he had been pulled unconscious from the river and revived ashore. If he had been out cold at the time, he should have felt nothing. But he remembered a hand on his shoulder pulling him up through the water, the hand letting go, and a sinking sensation as though he had begun to descend again. And then he had blacked out. As far as he could tell, he must have been rescued sometime after that point — although on the surface of it that made little sense.

The only person who could shed some light on the situation was Katiya. If she had been rescued as well.

Wherever she was now, she was out of his reach forever.

He opened his fist where it rested on the rail and stared at its contents. Some questions required no answers, or were better left unasked. He was still alive, and that was what counted.

With a grunt of effort, he raised his good arm behind his head and aimed for the stars. A glint of reddish sunset reflected off silver as the object in his hand flew free — upward, far above him, turning as it rose — then fell down over the guard-rail and toward the water.

Roads turned away and headed back to the shore, to where Barney waited for him.

With barely a splash, the river below Patriot Bridge hid Cati's dog-tag from sight, as though it had never existed.