A Toaster on Mars by Darrell Pitt Read Free Book Online

party , Blake thought. Not again.
    ‘Yes, the birthday party,’ Astrid said, as if she could read his mind. ‘It’s a little hard to forget the day you broke her heart.’
    ‘I was catching the Toe Killer!’
    ‘There was always some interstellar criminal who needed catching,’ Astrid said. ‘You put them before Lisa. No wonder she doesn’t speak to you.’
    This conversation was going nowhere. ‘Check the scarmish fields,’ he advised her. ‘Ring her friends. Then the hospitals. Let me know how you go.’
    ‘I will.’
    His wristcomm went dead.
    In the early days of their divorce, Blake had held hope that he and Astrid would get back together. As time had passed, however, his hopes had all but died. The only time he truly considered it a possibility was when he thought about Astrid’s surname. Carter. She had not changed it.
    Maybe there was still a chance.
    Blake brought Sally in to land outside a line of bars on the east side 494th level. Natural light didn’t filter down this far, and it was late in the day anyway, so most of the illumination came from fluorescents hanging from cornices.
    Bars, cubicle hotels and burnt-out shops lined both sides of the lane. A plastic cat rooted through a garbage bin, while a two-headed seagull flew off with half a cooked chicken in its beaks.
    Between two garbage bins lay a drunk who was arguing with a mechanical head that looked like Julia Roberts. But something must have been broken because she winked continuously while one of her ears spun.
    ‘You never loved me,’ the drunk said.
    ‘I would have stayed for two thousand,’ the head said. ‘Two thousand…two thousand…two thousand…’
    ‘You know how much I hate this part of town,’ Sally said. ‘Do we have to come here?’
    ‘We do.’
    ‘You won’t stay out late, will you?’ Sally pleaded. ‘A girl like me could end up without an engine, no wheels and—’
    Blake ignored her. His mind was on Lisa, and he kept having to remind himself she wasn’t a small child anymore. Twelve years old. She would be fine. Neo City was a big place with lots of distractions. It was easy for kids to lose track of time.
    He pushed through the doors of the Pink Hyperdrive.
    Time for some distractions of my own , he thought.

8
    Nicki sighed.
    The grime was so intense in Blake’s office that even the grime had grime. A microscopic examination showed some interesting results: as expected, it was mostly dust, which, like all dust, was skin. The next largest element was pizza—and not just any kind of pizza. Nicki’s nose twitched in recognition as she searched her database. Blake liked the Super Meat and Chilli Lovers pizza from Al’s Pizza Joint on 99A Street.
    Yep , she thought. No mistaking that sauce.
    Only the unused desk was in pristine condition. Why?
    Nicki started typing.
    ‘I know you said no to Friday night,’ Reggie said, ‘but maybe—’
    ‘No offence,’ she said, ‘but get lost.’
    Nicki disconnected Reggie and put a call through to the server. She could have logged on via her internal connections, but she preferred to behave as much like a human as possible. It made full bloods feel more comfortable.
    Full bloods. She didn’t like thinking of people that way, but her nine per cent was jealous of those who were one hundred per cent human. They grew hair, shed skin, sweated moisture, bled blood and cried tears.
    Logging in via the mainframe, Nicki was surprised when an error message came up on the screen.
    USER UNKNOWN.
    ‘This is Nicki Steel,’ she said. ‘Agent number MPFC1969.’
    UNKNOWN.
    ‘Huh?’
    UNKNOWN.
    ‘What are you? Broken?’
    I DON’T APPRECIATE BEING SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT.
    ‘I’m sorry you’ve had a hard day,’ Nicki said, trying to be conciliatory. ‘Mine’s been tough too.’
    YOU THINK?
    ‘I know what you’re going through—’
    AS IF. YOU HAVE ARMS, LEGS, A HEAD AND TORSO. WHAT I WOULDN’T GIVE FOR A LIMB. EVEN A LITTLE FINGER. WHAT I WOULDN’T GIVE FOR A LITTLE