Unhaunting The Hours

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Authors: Peter Sargent
pleasure, no
matter how often the panic attacks. Visions of my fears, like the
one I’d just experienced, were still better than the real thing.
And the Major could go to hell.
    Facing the apartments, a tall berm cut
the horizon. I could hear the water roaring on the other side. I
crossed the street and climbed the steps up the wall’s slanted
side. On top there was a path which people could walk, although no
one did, and there was a railing. I leaned against the railing and
stared down into river’s water. It looked black without the moon.
Half a mile down, there was a dam and several smoke stacks blocking
out the stars. The river’s constant hum was always there, but
people in this neighborhood learned to ignore it. From time to time
I went to meet it, because it gave me a certain solace.
    From the corner of my eye I saw
flashing in the street below. It was a red and blue cop light,
without the siren, and it was approaching. I wanted to run. That
was an instinct I’d never felt before. Yes, the Abderans were
likely after me. But what did I think? That they had a connection
with the police? But there I was, pressing my hand against my side
to keep my legs from moving. For Christ’s sake, what was wrong with
me?
    I backed away from the railing, and I
felt someone’s chest shoving me from behind. I turned and saw the
cop’s face, beneath the drizzle falling over the brim of his
cap.
    I said, “Charlie?”
    Charlie Healing had been in my Abdera
colony. I’d forgotten he was cop. He wasn’t a nice guy.
    “ How are you,
Osiris?”
    My name is George. He was calling me by
my colony name. I sure as hell wasn’t going to call him by his. I
kept my mouth shut.
    He said, “I haven’t seen you for a long
time.”
    I’d made up a story, in case I ran into
anyone from the colony. It involved a dying aunt who wanted to know
about the rumors of Abdera, about preserving her mind in graphene
wire after her death. I figured they’d buy the notion that I’d left
their cult so I could bring someone new in. I’d rehearsed it, but
now all I could do was resist the itch of the 9 millimeter I’d
taped to the inside of my jacket. I had to tell myself – not now,
not here. Then the Major whispered – now or never.
    I said, “Can I help you?”
    “ You know about that
murdered woman? We found her body about a mile downstream from
here; it was pressed up against a storm grate. Parts of her were
severed; a clean job. Her lungs were filled with
formaldehyde.”
    Charlie pointed his chin at me. It was
an open secret that my neighborhood, the Berm, was one of the few
left with formaldehyde in the walls. It was a component of paint
and varnishes that were now illegal.
    “ So.” He said. “She came
from around here.”
    “ I can’t help
you.”
    “ Sometimes, people repress
memories.” Here came the Abdera bullshit. “We can see if you’ve got
some memories that you’ve forgotten.”
    The vision came back: a face full of
blood. The mouth opened, but it wasn’t able to scream. I pushed it
down.
    Charlie said, “We can do it back at the
colony, with people you trust. We could just see.”
    “ There’s nothing to see,
Charlie.”
    He began to turn back to the steps and
his cruiser. “I’m just giving you options.”
    I left him there. I returned to my
apartment and flipped on the TV just to hear the noise. I went to
the bathroom, closing the door enough to reduce the voices to
mumbles. I stripped my wet clothes and stood at the mirror. I ran
my fingers through the damp hair behind my ear, pulling it away and
revealing a metal ring imbedded in my skin. There were scratches on
it from the many times I’d inserted a cable that had connected me
to the Abdera Cipher. Running my finger along the skin of my spine,
I felt the imbedded IV nub. To get the full effect from an Abdera
connection, you’ve got to take in a neuromuscular blocker that
paralyzes your muscles. I figured it was a good idea to put the IV
where it’s hard to

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