Vector's Memoirs; The Chaotix That Was (Part Six)
VECTOR'S MEMOIRS: THE CHAOTIX THAT WAS (PART SIX)
by Foxy Boy
*******************************************
The night had been a liberal slice of heaven, but one glimpse of our visitor ended it all. I was well past the edge of the privacy wall; no chance of turning back unseen. This, of course, was never supposed to happen, so my stupid ass had no plan in place to avoid it. In that light, it would seem I had it coming.
Not that I thought he was trying to land her. He had fifteen years under his belt; three too few for any woman with half a brain, let alone a savvy, self-made shadow-vixen. I didn't see Rouge as the type that would gravitate to a type-A personality. And if he was trying anyway, he had me to contend with, and the fist already itching to speed towards his skull.
I had no other option than to return to the table, so I'd know the interlude's purpose soon enough. The only problem was, I couldn't convince myself I wanted to. Unannounced meetings are usually the last step before bad news... Something of that nature would almost guarantee I'd be paying a tab to go home alone that night.
In the meantime, how many ground rules of investigation would I be crushing under my ass the second I took a seat in his presence?
My spit seemed to stick in my throat as my feet carried me stiffly forward, past tables of happier patrons. If they only knew, I thought, would they understand? Could any among them - the frigid, self-spoiled elite of our spectator culture - hold sympathy for a confused croc spiraling down through this surreal string of events? One who still held out hope he would emerge unscathed from the other end, with a growing business ready to hoist me up like a crowd of hands into the tax bracket stratosphere?
If nothing else, they could see the sweat condense on my forehead as I approached. Both caught sight of me at the same time; I could feel the silent and untimely hell of a panic attack quickly welling up. Before my mouth could even open, a familiar quote began looping through my mind.
"Point of advice, Vector... Some things are better left alone. At least, for now..."
My memory never surfaces at times of convenience.
"Uh... Hi," I muttered glumly, as I sat like a rock in the chair I'd been using. Rouge's attention seemed torn between the two of us; me, brooding over things she didn't even know, and our uninvited guest, standing awkwardly between us like a goofy teenage chaperone. I kept a poker face, like any half-professional... But unless things changed, and soon, the peace was on a timer.
"Well," she shot back in an expectant tone, "Aren't you the least bit curious as to why he's here?"
Hell no. "Oh, forgive me. So, what brings you here tonight, spikeball?"
She answered for him. "He's trying to find Amy. I feel kind of guilty I couldn't help him."
He'd been mum so far, but his superstar confidence erupted as he started to speak. "Yeah, she was acting all friendly to me this afternoon, but I had to fend her off. I think I hurt her feelings, and I wanted to see if I could find her and patch things up."
It was amusing to hear what I'd seen in secrecy narrated back to my face hours later. "She's a good kid," I returned flatly. "I'd hesitate to call her a 'girl', seeing how young she is. You're probably better off not taking any interest in her." I saw the waiter's shadow fall over the table, then two menus were laid in front of us. I took the opportunity to order another round of confidence for the two paying patrons, and started scanning the dinner selections once he had strolled off. Rouge silently followed suit a few moments later.
Surprisingly, the blue fury had the politeness to wait that long before defending himself. "I don't have an interest in her. I know as well as you do that she's twelve. But I also know what I mean to her." From anyone else, it would've sounded grossly egotistical; just one of many reasons for his eternal popularity.
"Don't flatter yourself," I chuckled through a true sinner's grin, which melted slowly as I continued. "I catch your meaning, though, I know you don't want to hurt her. Sorry I haven't seen her around, but I hope you two can meet up and set things straight. At least, before she starts making voodoo dolls."
His eyebrow raised. "You think she'd really do that?"
My God, man, give a virgin fan some credit. "No, no, no. Not unless you know something about her I don't."
"Tch," he finally got it, "Whatever. I gotta speed." His hand went up as his feet readied to blaze away. "Later, slowmo's!"
I started to tell him goodbye, but by then he'd long since started around the table. It took less than a second before he was out the door - No exaggeration - and not a moment too soon; I glanced up from the menu to see Rouge sending him a wave that seemed a little too friendly.
Time to resume control of the situation. "Do you know what you want to order yet, or are you too busy planning your next night of enchantment?"
I could feel the chill in the glare she shot me. "I was being polite. You weren't here when he showed up, so what else could I have done?"
Our drinks came just after she finished, so I held off my return to imbibe a good gulp. "You could've told him the truth; that neither of us has the time tonight, for him or his confidence problem."
"And what makes you so sure you're not the problem?", she rebutted. "Time or not, you wanted him gone. If your tone didn't give you away, your fidgeting would've."
Until that moment, I wasn't aware I'd even moved since reclaiming my seat. Now that it was revealed to me, I could feel the fingers on my left hand stop their tapping against the underside of the table. Clearly, I was a poor actor; but that alone was nothing to feel ashamed for. This rendezvous was ours, to have alone, without the company of a superstar or his petty problems. Cordiality had its time and place, and this was neither.
Pity, I was alone in that thinking.
"Well, you got your wish," she added dryly. "Now I'm going to feel bad for Amy, since she wanted the kind of time we're having. She may be young, but not too young to know desire."
Nothing waters down a good mood like sympathy pains. "He'll find her," I remarked after another generous sip, "And hopefully knock some sense into her. He has no reason to feel guilty for turning down jailbait like that."
She grunted playfully through a telling smile. "Wow, such a dirty mind. So to you, it goes without saying he'd be doing something with her that could land him in jail?" Her attention finally returned to her menu, but the commentary went unhindered. "I remember an age when dating didn't have to mean sex."
"Me too," I chuckled, "But I was alot younger than him." I'd almost finished the second glass, and my stomach was beginning to cry out for a buffer. "I'm going to hail our server next time he comes around. We should at least get some bread or something."
"Tell him to bring the check," she returned, setting her menu firmly on the table and closing it.
It was a miracle I didn't do a spit-take. "Are you serious? We could've had those same two glasses of wine five times cheaper somewhere else."
Her smile hardly wavered as she began running a finger gently around the rim of her glass. "That's exactly why we should cut out. It's been along day for both of us, and you're getting a little cranky. Don't think I don't know what that means, either."
Ooooo, she was good. With a few phrases, she'd taken me from surprise and anger to a calmer curiosity. "And just what does it mean?", I asked, eyebrow raised.
"It means," she replied with a captivating stare, "That you're too smart to invest so heavily in me if there's a chance of striking out. I've seen it with dozens of men, and it never gets old."
Even more surprising. "You like that?", I muttered, completely in the dark.
"Of course." With elbows planted on the table, she daintily rested her chin between her hands. "There are women that don't know the game, there are women who know how it's played... And there are women that play it themselves. Honestly, if it was love I'd been looking for, don't you think I would've come to you alot sooner?"
I was speechless, as the waiter passed right by us. Did I really deserve such a gift from the heavens? Or had Espio just been a lightning rod for the day's bad karma?
Her eyes were still glued to me as our server made another pass. I asked for the bill with so little interest, it could've been three hundred, and I'd never know the difference. Curiously, the couple she'd bamboozled never came back to set things straight; to me, it had to be either pride or fear. I picked up the tab with a modest tip, and we were out of there like yesterday's linguini.
The trip back to my place was done on foot, amid more relaxed banter. Whether the wine was to blame for how things unfolded, or just our own natural looseness, I couldn't really say. We were high on the moment, and each other. Very few chicks are as cool or modern-thinking as she was, but those that are can spell trouble, so I made sure the latex was handy. Contrary to my usual nature, I'll be a gentleman, and only say I didn't spend the night alone.
... Though I did wake up that way. We'd collapsed together under the sheets, but when my senses finally returned near daybreak, she was long gone. Groggy as I was, I smiled while scratching the back of my neck; I'd clearly been used, and loved every minute of it. My memory was fuzzy, but I hardly cared, as there was every indication she'd felt the same... A deep indention in my mattress and a pair of dislodged press-on nails told enough of the sordid tale. Every now and then, as I was getting ready, a pleasant image would rekindle in my mind, and reinforce the gratifying break she'd been for my nerves.
Thankfully, my state of mind wouldn't allow me to forget the camera, which hung safely around my neck as I stepped out. All the obstacles in my usual walk to work seemed more insignificant than ever before. Even with problems mounting, I was dancing a bit to my headphones every step... Until just before nine, when a more professional me unlocked the door to the office.
There he sat, alone at his desk, hunched over a stack of legal paper while brandishing a pen. The day-glo suit was back, just as bright and nauseating as the first time. My good mood quickly vanished, replaced by a hefty sum of questions... And I wasn't about to let him miss a single one.
"Espio?"
No response; not even a glance up in my direction. Before I'd even reached my desk that morning, I could see it would be another banner day.
"Why was the door locked?", I continued, hoping insistance could break through the wall he seemed to have built around himself.
I got my response, but it came still devoid of eye contact. "Because I didn't want Charmy to be in here before you."
I tossed the camera into the desk drawer and braved the calendar routine without removing my gaze from him. "And when does that ever happen?"
A faint flash of an ironic smirk, then back to his troubling concentration. "I don't know if I could face him right now. He knows as well as I do I'm the one that destroyed any chance of fulfilling his duties, to you or the company. And he's probably still mad about what happened to the boy."
Oh, so it was a personal guilt trip he'd embarked on. In all likelihood, he'd received no assurance from anyone, and a bit might do him good. "I saw Doones yesterday, after I left. According to him, the kid will be fine."
"Oh, he'll live," he concurred. "But from now on, the only thing he'll have to do to remember me, is glance at his left arm. It'll be a miracle if it comes out anything better than one big scar."
My heart seemed to stop for an instant. No man with any trace of morals would ever want to feel responsible for something like that. "Gee... I'm-I'm sorry, Espio. That's just terrible."
He nodded wistfully. "Oh, I know. Charmy made sure that was something I couldn't miss. You'll probably see it if they replay the footage from last night, when the camera crews came rolling up. He was blue in the face from screaming at me. I know most of it was just him trying to cope with the shock, but there's no way he'll never forgive, much less forget."
I shook my head at how personal he'd let it become. "Now, you know he won't be like that for long. These things just happen. It's why life isn't fair."
By then, curiosity was getting the better of me, and I'd decided to see what he'd been filling out. Slowly, I walked over to him, scanning detail on the page with every step. As my hands went down onto his desk, I could finally make out the gist of the material.
My jaw went for the floor in nothing flat. "Is... Is that the paperwork Doones promised me yesterday?"
He gave a shallow nod. "He was trying to tack it to the door when I got here. You had no hand in what happened, so I'm sparing you the headaches it's caused. I won't sit here and watch you suffer on my account."
My cheeks MUST have been red. "That's a damn stupid thing to do, and you know it!" With one swift motion, I snatched the paper from in front of him, making his first look at me one of startled confusion. "They could toss you to the feds for that kind of bullshit!"
I felt like a heel before my mouth could even close. Given the erratic way he seemed to be dealing, I expected to see him break down. But, like a true master of his life's creed, he surprised me.
It came emotionless, and painfully direct. "I can't make myself dread a punishment I know I deserve."
His words touched off a spark in my mind, and it wasn't long before I understood. The guilt that had followed my temper quickly left me; I could almost feel my heart harden again. "This is about honour, isn't it? You're not just broken up over the family. You can't stand the thought of being shamed."
He drew inward visibly, choosing to look away without a reply. I'd rarely felt more frustrated - or downright impotent - in my life, but no one really prepares for that kind of curve ball. The same nature that made him so valuable as my colleague, could also make him near-impossible to understand.
I decided it was time to get serious, about everything. A deep sigh began my proposition. "Are you sure you don't want me involved in this? Look, my case is going pretty well, enough that I can afford to put it on the back burner for a little while. When Charmy gets here, we could follow you out to your own investigation. Together, we'd easily have your end of things wrapped up by sunset. You don't have to prove yourself, to me or anyone else. It's not worth losing your mind, or your grip on reality."
At first, I saw no sign of a reaction, and he still seemed to have issues with looking me in the eye. What he said next, I'll never forget.
"I lost my grip on reality the second I started to go along with this."
My anger was much quicker to come than any coherent rebuttal. "Wh-y-you-but... Well who gave you the right to talk to me that way!?"
Slowly, he rose out of his chair, focused only on the door. "There's no sense in sitting around when my clients are waiting. I'll be back before you leave tonight."
And with that, he just walked right past me. Reaching the door, he opened it, and was gone.
I almost felt betrayed. What is there to say, when the best of your two employees walks out on you, with the excuse that sticking around would mean wasting time? Sure, there were other, clear reasons for him to leave, but I couldn't very well punish him for being responsible. Like all ninja, the bastard knew how to pull off a smooth exit.
Feeling defeated, I sulked back to my desk, just sort of falling into the seat. How unfair, that I couldn't even enjoy one night of carefree, adult-themed fun without having to come back to this. He had gotten his wish, and more, as Charmy hadn't shown up at all before he left. Naturally, the burden of keeping all of his crap secret from his younger contemporary would fall on my shoulders. Who in their right mind would add a feud between co-workers to something this volatile.
Rouge was right, I thought. Some things are better left...
... Mother of God. It had come to me in the restaurant, for two whole seconds. After that, my stupid, half-drunk ass forgot all about it, long after we'd passed out. Now, I would never rest until I could find her again, and rid myself of at least one mystery. I scratched the back of my neck nervously, trying to ignore the anxiety mounting within me. Of course, my mind would have none of that.
I felt well on my way to a panic attack. Nothing seemed as clear or harmless as it had when it was all just a short paragraph, and an address on Sadler. I'd now begun to question most every decision made up to that point; was it worth the grief, or Espio's incredible faux pas? Was the money enough to justify what had gone wrong as a direct result?
And what about Charmy, or the unfortunate family, or Espio's handwriting scribbled illegally over documents meant for me?
In short, what the hell had I done to myself?
Not that it mattered. What's done is done, and no amount of grief or soul-searching would get anything worthwhile accomplished. Before Espio made his untimely exit, he'd managed to answer some of my questions... But I still had no idea of how they'd handled the media, or even who they'd talked to. At least Charmy was on his way; assuming he wasn't in the kind of spirits we were, I would have my answers soon enough.
...Or so I thought. Conveniently, he never showed up. I wasted over forty-five minutes tapping my fingers on the desk, waiting to see him walk in. The wall clock told me my patience ran out just shy of ten o' clock.
I chuckled, perhaps to keep from screaming. I'd been let down for the last time; if I even saw him at all that day, I shudder to think of what I might've done. In order to forget, I took the camera out of the drawer, and started browsing through the stills I'd taken of Sonic and his discreet little bribe.
It was no use. No matter how many times I cycled through, it just couldn't make sense on its own. He was paying Tails for something, but the fact alone would be useless to me without the context to put it in. Money changes hands every day, every second. And in any case, once I was finally ready to consult the D.A., I would literally be up against the world. Whatever I found, even the smallest bit of evidence, would be run under a magnifying glass by every bureaucrat in the state. All of his adoring fans would rally behind him at the drop of a hat, like followers of some prophesying martyr. Too often, there's a thin line between heroism and public hatred. I would have to do it right, the first time.
Reviewing what I already had was no help; it was clear I'd have to search him out, again. Leaving an angry note on the door, in case Charmy showed up at all, I left the same way as the previous day, with the same equipment and headed for the same places.
This time around, he eluded me. No sign of him even near Emerald Coast; Twinkle Park was much of the same. All I found at the walking track, were an elderly couple, and a few of those over-40 fitness nuts... The kind that cover their George Hamilton bun-tans with biking shorts. Needless to say, I didn't stick around.
It was like he'd just disappeared overnight. There was no way he could be anywhere in the city. Between my trained eyes and his commanding presence, he'd be about as easy to miss as the Eiffel Tower. My worst fear, was that he'd somehow been tipped off, and had gone into hiding until it could all blow over. No one could fault me for effort; even after the beating my feet had taken the day before, I covered no less than half the streets in uptown looking for him.
I finally gave up around half past twelve, without a damn thing to show for all the time spent. I was sure that one way or another, he'd gotten wise of me, or his investigation in general. As it happened, I was across from a burger joint at the time I gave up, so I made another important decision: that lunch was long overdue.
It was tiny, like a mall Starbucks, with two-person tables and one-wide booths straddling the tacky brown walls. I strolled into the eclectic space, and up to the counter, where all good restaurants hang their huge LCD-lit menus. The selections were fast-food, but came with wait staff to bring your order to your table. Thanks to that, I didn't wonder why the burgers started at five. After ten whole seconds of deliberation, I settled on their "classic", which was closer to a BLT, and a large cup of water, which I took with me to the last empty booth near the windows.
At that point, I would've been glad to see anybody I knew, friend or foe. As dumb as it sounds, I was worried for Espio, the same way a mother would worry for her son if she saw him crying before school. For him to show fear, which was rare in itself, and to have it be for the single most unlikely stooge on the planet, something had to be up. Charmy couldn't've had any idea how much he'd avoided by laying low that day... At least, I hoped he didn't. God help him if I'd found out he was dodging me, for any reason.
My burger came reasonably fast, and the view out the front glass wasn't so bad. With my back to the gaudy interior, I could feel my mood slowly lift as my teeth met the first greasy bite. Having something on my stomach helped to take the edge off of the day, and the streetscape proved sort of entertaining. Soon, I even started naming the pedestrians as they passed, just by appearance.
Baby-boomer Hippie. Pinstriped Executive. Punk Skateboarder. Soccer Mom. Knuckles. Construction Wo-
... I bolted out like a shoplifter in Saks, using my hand to more quickly round the doorway. Half a block later, I caught up to him, just as he turned and shot me a look of recognition. I would've started talking right off, but I was out of breath to the point of bending down. He just stood there graciously with his arms crossed, until I'd regained enough of my wind to straighten back up.
"Training for a marathon?", he smirked, then faked looking behind himself. "There isn't a 'Kick Me' sign on my back, is there?"
I chuckled, maybe more than it was worth; I needed the contact. "No. This is probably gonna sound weird, so I'll just come right out and say it. You wanna join me for lunch?"
His eyebrow raised, but that was the extent of his resistance. "Uh, sure. But don't expect a kiss."
"I'm telling you, it's a conspiracy." I wiped ketchup from the sides of my mouth. "Someone, or something, out there is determined to break me any way they can."
"Sure sounds like it," he returned, as he stared out the window. "What makes you so sure it isn't connected?"
I polished off the first half of my sandwich with a giant-sized bite. "I'm not," I choked through the mouthful, then graciously swallowed it. "Of course, I might know, if Charmy hadn't ducked out today. I know one thing for sure; he's already up to his neck in shit, and it's only getting deeper every moment I don't hear from him."
He nodded slowly, as both of his gargantuan hands rested in front of him... Lucky bastard. "I just can't believe how hard it is to find Sonic today. You were right; he damn-near vanished into thin air."
"Oh, so I wasn't the only one looking for him," I replied slyly, starting on the second half.
"Yeah, guilty as charged.", he grinned. "He was supposed to guard the Emerald for me, so I could have a day to just fuck around and do whatever. It's lucky for him that Tikal happened by..." He knocked his fists together playfully. "... Or else, I might've had to crack a few skulls."
I couldn't help but smile. I'd always liked Knuckles; with his easygoing vibe and plentiful street savvy, he was the antidote to Sonic's fame-driven ego. We weren't best friends, or even good buddies, but he was definitely someone I could respect... In most ways, just one of the guys. We might've been inseperable, if not for the Master Emerald. It was his calling, and commanded his life day in and day out, above all else. There was little wonder why I would want him around, on such a rare relief from that duty.
"So, what's on your agenda for the rest of today?", I asked between sips of water.
As always, he didn't break his 'cool' facade. "Oh, just a few things. I promised Tails I would take a gander at his latest few projects. He said he's been working with cars, so I'm hoping I'll see some pretty tight shit."
Ohhh, what he would find out. "Yeah, don't get your hopes up. I've been by there, and it's not exactly what it sounds like."
"Oh... Well, it doesn't matter either way. A promise is a promise." His tone seemed to suitably change. "I am sorry about Espio. I heard all about it from Tikal. Can't imagine what it's like to be him right now."
So he thought I would appreciate sympathy. "Tch, try being me," I countered. "I'm the one who has to answer for that whole debacle. That is, if he'll even let me."
"... Say what?", he returned, clearly confused.
I let out a therapeutic sigh. "Never mind. It's just more bullshit I don't need to recall right now." With an oversized mouthful, I finished off what remained of my cheap meal. Of course, I expected him to continue the conversation. Instead, we soon sank into an awkward silence, as he drummed his fingers on the tablecloth in a slow hip-hop rhythm.
"You know, I really should get going," he finally blurted, rising slowly to his feet. "There's no telling how crowded the train to the Ruins will be this time of day."
"Not very," I replied flatly. "You'll be fine if you stick around a few more minutes. Besides, it's not like he runs a business with 'open' hours, or anything." I started to smirk. "Just take it easy. I know you hardly ever get this kind of break, and the day's still young."
"Heh, not for everybody. I doubt Tikal wants to hang out on the floating island past nightfall." He began walking slowly backwards. "Good luck with your case, though, and damage control. I'm sure you'll have it all figured out in no time."
"Yeah, I can only hope. And don't rush Tikal off when you get back, if you know what I mean. " I gave a redundant wink, just to make sure he followed.
It was clear that he did, though only by his face. "Well, anyway, feel free to stop by the shrine someday soon, if you get the urge." He raised one fist, then gave a gesture I can't say I knew. "Later, Vector."
My hand went up in a friendly wave, but I doubt I could've looked very happy. I've never been one to enjoy keeping secrets; between sitting down and leaving, he'd heard of the case, and could probably tell how important it was to me, but nothing besides. Not that I didn't trust him; but as long as he might even come near Sonic, the risk involved would be unacceptable. Why throw it all away, and maybe open the door for God-knows-what kind of consequences, just for the purpose of extending a visit?
If I appeared glum, it would only be because I was. There's something almost unnatural about feeling lonely amidst millions of people. My problems were most of the cause, and I knew that... But as anyone who's ever been depressed will tell you, the mind is never more closed and unreasoning than when it's loaded with stress. I felt I needed to somehow turn off the day, for a good while; I was past recuperating, in any traditional sense. Somewhere across town, Espio was buried in his own work, likely doing everything he could to restore what part of his spirit the fire seemed to have taken. Any other time, I would've thanked God to have someone as dutiful and motivated as him. Surely, less gifted detectives would give their right arm to have someone of his stock under their wing. But all good things come with a price; and his, I felt, would come back to bite me in the ass, if it hadn't started to already.
I tried to clear my mind as I downed the last few gulps of water. I'd been worrying nonstop since walking into the office at nine, and where had it gotten me? Not one bit closer to pinning the blame on Sonic, at any rate. In no more than two hours, N would be calling my desk, expecting some sort of progress. How would I break it to him that I'd lost track of our suspect entirely? Would he understand, or would he instead react like I might, if I'd been in his place?
With my only reprieve deep in my stomach, I slid out of the booth and headed for the door. The office was the last place I wanted to be, but without a way to find further leads, I had no choice. As I crossed a busy intersection, I scratched the back of my neck.
Only after I reached the other side, did it finally dawn on me.
I don't usually itch; I'm not a person who scratches while fidgeting, either. That made the third time in only a short while I'd felt irritation on the same exact spot. Safely out of the street, I reached up and behind, and began feeling around the nape of my neck.
I felt something immediately. A pronounced bump on my skin, definitely round in shape. And it was loose... So loose, in fact, that within moments of handling, it came off in my fingers.
I kept it safely in a closed fist, until I could bring it up to my face. Once I opened my hand, and was able to get a good look, you could've knocked me down with a feather.
In my palm rested a tiny remote transmitter. I could recognize GUN Inc.-technology anywhere, mostly due to Rouge's history of unfriendly run-ins with their security forces. And on top of that, I'd only felt the annoying thing since waking up that morning.
I crushed it into my fist as my jaw tightened. One way or another, the bitch was going to pay.
To be continued...