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Stories Of An Awkward Size. A Slipstream And Hard SF Anthology
  • Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 11:15

Текст книги "Stories Of An Awkward Size. A Slipstream And Hard SF Anthology"


Автор книги: Jonathan Swords-Holdsworth



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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 3 страниц)

Henri laughed. “Must’ve gotten carried away on a freak warm night! And on the cobblestones t…”

Both of them froze. Henri felt an icy coldness creep down his neck and into his lungs; Erik felt the same chill.

They had just unmistakeably seen a thrown punch. Then another. Another.

They looked at each other.

Erik said “You know, there was a really bad rape in this alley about a year ago …”

“Yeah,” Henri replied, “she was a tourist. They never got the bastard, either.”

The précis looped. Henri reached out and stopped it.

“Rufus. Push to storage.”

The movie dropped down and Rufus performed his shunting duty. When the movie reached the edge of the Graf, it took him noticeably longer to push it through.

“Bigger file,” said Erik, without emotion.

Henri took the tablet off him and swapped to the storage drive. A different LFV file was there – the dancing girl video was gone. He copied the video to the tablet and pressed play, as the boy stood next to him and looked on. It occurred to Henri that this wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t really deny Erik’s right to know what they had found.

The video started with a blank view of the alley, just as the dancer’s had. As the next minute played, they saw a well dressed woman walking past the camera, then a man walked in the opposite direction. They passed each other, but then the man called from off-screen. The two came back together in the centre of the frame. At first the exchange was conversational – the woman had a noticeable European accent – but the man quickly became more aggressive. They watched him grab her and put his hand over her mouth …

Erik was the first to speak.

“Um, I’m not comfortable watching this …”

Henri felt empty. “Me neither. But … let me just check something …”

He stopped the video and muted the sound, then he grabbed the position slider and began scrubbing the video forward. All too soon the figures were on the ground, and the attack was in progress.

Erik swallowed. “What are you looking for?” he asked.

“I’ll know it if I see it …” said Henri, concentrating.

He was rewarded after a moment with a glimpse of his target, and scrubbed the video back and forth across it. The slider didn’t have the necessary resolution to home in on the precise point in time, so he let the video play for a second.

“There!” he exclaimed, and paused the player. “Got you …”

He angled the tablet so Erik could see.

The man had looked at the camera. His face was clearly visible in the streetlight.

“A crime of opportunity,” Henri thought aloud, “no mask.”

Erik reached over and touched the image, rocking and dragging the Light Field back and forth. The attacker’s features were clearly discernible from a variety of angles. If he had stepped into the alley at this moment, either of them would have recognised him almost instantly.

“But why did he look at the wall?” asked Erik, “He was raping a …”

Henri thought for a moment.

“Guess.”

Erik pondered, his face serious. Then his eyes opened wide.

“Rufus must have appeared!” he exclaimed.

“Yup,” said Henri, “and think about it – when does Rufus show himself?”

“… if he knows you …” Erik had begun to pace in a circle, his hands on his head.

“You got it,” said Henri, looking back at the screen, “this bastard was local, at least at the time. He must have not seen Rufus before, and just assumed it was a cat’s shadow. He was … otherwise occupied, as you said.”

Erik paused his revolutions.

“Could it have been the woman?”

Henri shook his head. “No, from memory she was a Dutch tourist. She wasn’t here very long, and this —” He chopped at the screen. “– was her gift from our wonderful city.”

“Holy crap …” said Erik, and resumed circling.

Grim though their find was, Henri had been feeling a certain satisfaction. But now … his thoughts were stalling, and he could feel hints of a growing depression. For a moment he mistook it for a reaction, to the act Rufus had caught. That wasn’t it.

“Oh crap,” he said, “we have a moral dilemma.”

Erik stopped and looked at him, startled.

“No way, we have to take this to the cops right now!”

Henri sighed.

“We do, indeed. But – think this through. How will this play out?” He pointed at the attacker, frozen in mug-shot. “If they manage to nail this guy with this, there’ll be a trial. Both sides of the courtroom will insist on original sources being verified.” He pointed at Rufus, seated again, tail swishing. “Some court reporter, or somebody anyway, will let out … well it will just get out. Rufus will be in the press. He’ll be famous. And then, it’s only a matter of time before …”

Erik finished, “… before some idiot with a mini-torch thinks it’s funny to burn their crappy little tag into the wall. Or goes hunting for the control box.” He swore and resumed walking in a circle, but after only a few steps he halted.

“Dude, we have no choice, we have to take this to the police.”

Henri turned and disconnected the cable, the rows of icons disappearing as he did. Rufus stood up and stretched.

“Yes, we do,” said Henri, looping the cable under his arm. “Let’s go talk to your parents.”

* * *

Inside the house, Henri waited while Erik brought his parents to the kitchen, then asked him to leave them alone for a moment. Erik looked disappointed, but Henri’s demeanour was sufficiently serious that he didn’t argue. After he had gone, Sonya spoke.

“Did Erik do something wrong?”

“No, no, quite the opposite, he’s been enormously helpful. But now we have a situation – can we sit down?”

With the three of them at the table, Henri explained the night’s discoveries. He skipped over most of the technical details: he didn’t want to put off the unpleasant part any longer than necessary. When he arrived at it, he played them the video.

They watched in silence for nearly a minute, then Viktor swore.

“Gutless prick …” he hissed at the screen, and Sonya turned away.

“Henri, could you turn that off please,” she said, looking at the floor, and Henri did so. He was worried she was going to be sick, then realised that wasn’t it – she was suppressing rage.

Viktor, looking pale, spoke directly to Henri. “We need to take this to the police as soon as possible.”

“Absolutely,” said Henri, “but – hear me out – there is one more aspect.”

He outlined what he and Erik feared would be the consequences of the video’s discovery, for Rufus, unless something were done.

Viktor shrugged. “Surely it’s just a piece of graffiti? This is a woman’s wrecked life.”

“I completely agree,” said Sonya.

Henri didn’t want to start an argument with these people, so he pulled the only card he had.

“Obviously this has to go to the police,” he said, “and really it should go tonight. But there may be some way to protect Rufus, without compromising this as evidence. Viktor, I believe your sister is a senior police officer? Do you think she could help?”

Viktor perked up, then looked at the kitchen clock.

“I’ll call her right now,” he said, and grabbed his pok from the bench.

When he got through to his sister he hurried through the small-talk, then dove straight into the matter. While he talked, Henri quietly asked Sonya if she would go and get Erik – he might be needed, and his aunt would probably want to talk to him. Sonya left to fetch him.

Erik was no doubt checking the dancing girl’s compression artifacts, Henri brooded; at least something fun had come out of this evening.

End of this sample Kindle book.


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