Read Online Deus Ex: Black Light by James Swallow - Free Book Online
Authors: James Swallow
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closer – and then suddenly Pritchard reached out and snatched a trailing hair from Jensen’s head. He backed away, producing a small handheld device, and stuffed the hair into a sample tray.
“A DNA check?” Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “You still think I’m not who I say I am?”
Pritchard didn’t answer, eyes flicking back and forth between Jensen and the device’s readout. After a moment, it gave a low chime, and the hacker relaxed slightly. “You could have been a surgically altered double, for all I know… Gene scan matches the samples from the company files, so now I believe you.” He looked Jensen over. “You seem well for a dead man.”
“Thank Sarif for that. Sentinel implants kept me alive in the water.”
“Yes, of course.” Pritchard nodded. His tone was mordant. “You’ve made survival against the odds your
raison d’être
. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a shock to me. I might have known you’d shake off drowning just like everything else.”
Stacks nudged Jensen in the ribs. “Man don’t seem happy to see you,” he said guardedly.
“Pritchard’s never happy,” Jensen noted.
“What did you expect?” snapped the hacker. “
A hug
? Wherever you go, trouble follows!”
“What’s he mean?” said Stacks.
Jensen raised a hand. “Not the time,
Francis
.” He put acid emphasis on the other man’s name. “Do you have what I asked you for?”
An older man in a heavy coat walked into the ticket hall and faltered on the steps, seeing the three of them and immediately suspecting something illegal going on – which in fact, was true. Irritably, Pritchard beckoned Stacks and Jensen over to a shadowed corner and the passer-by did his best to pretend he’d seen nothing, almost at a run as he went up the steps.
Pritchard produced two pocket secretaries and handed them to Jensen. “Snap covers,” he explained. “Identity passes encoded on there, nothing special, plus a faked credit account with Bank of Detroit. It won’t last long, though. There’s enough for a couple of meals and a bus ticket.”
“I don’t plan on leaving here any time soon,” Jensen shot back. “I came back to Detroit for a reason.”
Pritchard scowled at him. “I knew talking to you was a mistake. I should have scrubbed that infolink code after they said you were dead.” He shook his head. “Jensen, things are different now. If you thought it was bad before the incident, you have no idea. This city is the
last
place you should be. Your face is known here. And I’m risking my own safety just being in the same place as you.”
“Yeah.” Jensen nodded. “Gotta admit, seeing you out in the field is a new wrinkle. Since when did you get out from behind your desk?”
“I don’t even
have
a desk anymore!” he said hotly. Then his tone shifted, becoming sullen. “Let’s just say, I don’t have the reach that I once did.”
From above them, there was a low, throaty rumble as a ‘people mover’ train approached the platform, and Jensen heard an automated announcer calling off destinations. “I need to take a look,” he told Pritchard, unsure of where the impulse had really come from. “I have to see the city with my own eyes.”
“You’ll regret it,” Pritchard relented, and he turned toward the stairs. “I already do.”
“So we going with?” asked Stacks, with a shrug.
“We’re going,” Jensen told him, and followed the hacker up.
* * *
There were only a few travelers waiting for the train, and when they spotted Jensen and Stacks emerging on to the platform, they immediately put distance between them.
Jensen’s lips thinned. He’d experienced anti-aug sentiment directed at him more than once, from subtle prejudice like people crossing the street to stay away from him, to outright bigotry with cries of ‘hanzer’ and threats of physical violence – but now there was a new hostility he sensed in the people around him, a mix of fear and anger bubbling away just beneath the
“A DNA check?” Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “You still think I’m not who I say I am?”
Pritchard didn’t answer, eyes flicking back and forth between Jensen and the device’s readout. After a moment, it gave a low chime, and the hacker relaxed slightly. “You could have been a surgically altered double, for all I know… Gene scan matches the samples from the company files, so now I believe you.” He looked Jensen over. “You seem well for a dead man.”
“Thank Sarif for that. Sentinel implants kept me alive in the water.”
“Yes, of course.” Pritchard nodded. His tone was mordant. “You’ve made survival against the odds your
raison d’être
. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a shock to me. I might have known you’d shake off drowning just like everything else.”
Stacks nudged Jensen in the ribs. “Man don’t seem happy to see you,” he said guardedly.
“Pritchard’s never happy,” Jensen noted.
“What did you expect?” snapped the hacker. “
A hug
? Wherever you go, trouble follows!”
“What’s he mean?” said Stacks.
Jensen raised a hand. “Not the time,
Francis
.” He put acid emphasis on the other man’s name. “Do you have what I asked you for?”
An older man in a heavy coat walked into the ticket hall and faltered on the steps, seeing the three of them and immediately suspecting something illegal going on – which in fact, was true. Irritably, Pritchard beckoned Stacks and Jensen over to a shadowed corner and the passer-by did his best to pretend he’d seen nothing, almost at a run as he went up the steps.
Pritchard produced two pocket secretaries and handed them to Jensen. “Snap covers,” he explained. “Identity passes encoded on there, nothing special, plus a faked credit account with Bank of Detroit. It won’t last long, though. There’s enough for a couple of meals and a bus ticket.”
“I don’t plan on leaving here any time soon,” Jensen shot back. “I came back to Detroit for a reason.”
Pritchard scowled at him. “I knew talking to you was a mistake. I should have scrubbed that infolink code after they said you were dead.” He shook his head. “Jensen, things are different now. If you thought it was bad before the incident, you have no idea. This city is the
last
place you should be. Your face is known here. And I’m risking my own safety just being in the same place as you.”
“Yeah.” Jensen nodded. “Gotta admit, seeing you out in the field is a new wrinkle. Since when did you get out from behind your desk?”
“I don’t even
have
a desk anymore!” he said hotly. Then his tone shifted, becoming sullen. “Let’s just say, I don’t have the reach that I once did.”
From above them, there was a low, throaty rumble as a ‘people mover’ train approached the platform, and Jensen heard an automated announcer calling off destinations. “I need to take a look,” he told Pritchard, unsure of where the impulse had really come from. “I have to see the city with my own eyes.”
“You’ll regret it,” Pritchard relented, and he turned toward the stairs. “I already do.”
“So we going with?” asked Stacks, with a shrug.
“We’re going,” Jensen told him, and followed the hacker up.
* * *
There were only a few travelers waiting for the train, and when they spotted Jensen and Stacks emerging on to the platform, they immediately put distance between them.
Jensen’s lips thinned. He’d experienced anti-aug sentiment directed at him more than once, from subtle prejudice like people crossing the street to stay away from him, to outright bigotry with cries of ‘hanzer’ and threats of physical violence – but now there was a new hostility he sensed in the people around him, a mix of fear and anger bubbling away just beneath the
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