Episode 20, “Something About Clocks”

 

[image error]“I’m going out, Daddy,” said Annika.

“Where?” said Peyton. “It’s late.”

“Hongkongtown,” Annika said, as if this explained everything. “We need more proteins for the printer. I’ll get some. You should try to sleep.”

Peyton looked at her carefully. “All right,” he said. “Be careful. Screen me if there’s any trouble.”

“You’re becoming very modern, Daddy,” she said, smiling. Twice now, she had relayed messages to him from her forearm tab — which she always wore — to the wall screen in their flat. She now took for granted this method of communicating with him. She hugged his leg, waved, and was out the door before he could say anything else.

He counted to one hundred.

When he was finished, he went to the bedroom. On the top shelf in the closet was the pasteboard box in which he kept Marachuck’s cut-down shotgun. He had added to this a plastic sack of shells. Briefly he considered taking the weapon with him.

No, he thought. It isn’t that bad. She’s too smart.

He put the gun back in its hiding spot.

Go or stay? He was running out of time. He did not argue with himself much longer. It took him only minutes to catch up with her, using the traffic between them to screen himself as he paced her from the opposite side of the street. His height worked for him and against him. It enabled him to watch her while she could not see him, but threatened to expose him whenever the traffic cleared.

When it became obvious that she was heading to the amusement park, Peyton circled the block, jogging past pedestrians and pedicab pilots who were quick to give him a wide berth. He came up behind the park. The Tiltrotor, Annika’s favorite ride, was at the rear of the fenced space, placing its maintenance channels against the wall. This meant a deep, wide pit, of sorts, backed the ride and separated it from the fence.

He saw neither drones nor mounted cameras. The slats of the fence bent easily. They were much worse for wear after he bent them back, trying to conceal his breach. The Tiltrotor was very loud, groaning and wheezing as its hydraulics spun alloy carriages at high speeds.

Peyton spotted the man almost immediately. He was squat and round and waiting near the ride’s entrance, standing against a light post. Peyton thought he looked familiar.

He saw Annika approaching before the man did. Placing his hands against the lip of the maintenance pit, he prepared to hoist himself up.

 

* * *

Temken shifted his weight. His left foot was asleep. He forgot this when he saw the little blonde girl. Annika Peyton was approaching, just as they’d agreed. He braced himself against the light pole.

She would be looking for a boy her age, not a grown man. They had arranged to meet at this ride. When she saw no boy, she would circle around the ride, wondering if he was nearby. Once she did, once she got close enough, he could grab her. His fingers found the bottle of anesthetic spray in his pocket. Any moment now.

She did not look at him when she walked past, but she was too far away. He did not dare tip his hand too early; she was faster than he was. If she bolted, he would never catch her. He had not dared deploy a backup team. He feared the presence of so many police had tipped the Peytons before. He was alone. It should not take more than one operative to scoop up a single twelve-year-old girl.

He moved farther from the light pole, into the center of the walkway. She would reach the dead end behind the Tiltrotor and then come back. When she did, no matter which side she took, he would be within reach. He waited.

She did not appear.

Five minutes passed. Ten. At fifteen, his nerves were shot. Had she found some other exit? Was there a path behind the ride, something small enough for a child? If he had missed her, she might not fall for his lure again.

There! In the recessed area behind the ride. He saw her blonde hair, even in the darkness. There were alone here. She was cornered. There was no more need for caution. He ran for her–

A hand, twice the size of his head, stopped him.

Lightning bolts fired in his vision. He tasted blood. The blow from Peyton’s open palm had driven the breath from his body. He had run into a wall once. This was worse.

He gasped, rolled, tried to gain his feet. Someone drove a hot iron through his back. He collapsed to the pavement on his stomach. From the side of his eye he saw Ian Peyton pinning him to the ground with a single finger. Peyton’s finger flexed. Something, a rib, cracked in Temken’s chest.

“Please,” gasped Temken. “Please! I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”

“Annika,” said Peyton. His voice was almost a whisper. The girl appeared from the shadows next to him. “Go home. Go right home, no stopping. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” she said. “All you all right, Daddy? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine,” said Peyton. “But you and I will have to talk about this.”

“Because of that man?” said Annika. “He’s bad, isn’t he? He’s a bad person and you’re going to fix him.”

“I’m going to make him go to sleep,” said Peyton. “Because he’s bad, yes.”

“Okay, Daddy,” said Annika. “I’m going home now.”

Temken tried to speak. Blood poured from his mouth. He could feel broken ribs grating together. The stabbing pain in his side was unbearable. He could not breathe.

The girl left. She was skipping. Singing a song. Something about clocks.

The government operative managed to drag the contact circuit from his pocket. It fell to the ground. Temken’s fingers were numb. Peyton took the chip.

“She’s mine,” said the big man. “She’s not for you. How many like her have you taken?”

Temken tried to speak. Air hissed from between his lips. “Help,” he said.

“There are so many of you,” said Peyton. “I’ll never be able to get you all. Never be able to make the world safe for her.” He placed the palm of his hand against Temken’s skull. “That’s why I’ll never stop.” He began to push.

Oh God, thought Temken. He’s crushing my skull.

“I shouldn’t enjoy this,” said Peyton. “It’s wrong to enjoy it.” He pushed harder.

He’s crushing my skull! Stop! STOP!

“But I’m going to,” said Peyton.

It hurts so much and he’s going to crack it open please God it hurts please I’m sorry–