Tears in Rain by Rosa Montero, Lilit Zekulin Thwaites Read Free Book Online Page B

person hiring her was the better their working relationship would be, because then the client would give the sleuth greater freedom and be more grateful for the smallest fact the detective might find. If truth be told, a private detective was a finder of certainties.
    “Why haven’t you been to the police?”
    Chi smiled sardonically.
    “You mean, to the
human
police? You want me to go and ask them why there’s someone out there killing reps? Do you think they’re going to be very interested?”
    “There are technohuman cops as well.”
    “Oh, right. Four wretched imbeciles playing the part for the sake of appearances. Come on, Husky, you know we’re totally discriminated against. We’re a secondary species and third-class citizens.”
    Yes, Bruna knew it. But she felt that the discrimination against reps encompassed a greater discrimination—that of the powerful against the wretched. Like that poor human in Oli’s bar, the Texaco-Repsol billboard-lady. The world was basically unjust. Perhaps reps had to put up with worse conditions than humans, but for some reason, feeling that she was part of a victims’ collective made the detective feel ill. She preferred to think that injustice was democratic and rained its formidable blows on everybody.
    “Moreover, I don’t trust the police, because it’s likely the enemy has infiltrators on the inside. I’m convinced there’s something much bigger behind this business of adulterated memories. Something political.”
    Come on
, thought Bruna, irritated.
Next she’ll say there’s a plot
. They were entering the paranoid zone typical of these radical movements.
    “Something that might even be a conspiracy.”
    “Well, Chi, allow me to question that. I don’t usually support conspiracy theories,” Bruna couldn’t avoid answering.
    “That’s fine by me, but conspiracies exist. Look at the recent revelations about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. We’ve finally managed to find out what happened.”
    “But at this stage, a century and a half after the assassination, the truth is of no interest to anyone. I’m not saying that conspiracies don’t exist; what I
am
saying is that there are far fewer than people imagine, and they tend to be improvised, one-off jobs rather than perfect Machiavellian constructions. People believe in conspiracies because it’s a way of believing that deep down, horror has some order and meaning, even if that meaning is evil. We don’t support chaos, but there’s no question that life is totally senseless. Pure sound and fury.”
    Myriam looked at her with some surprise.
    “Shakespeare...what an educated quotation for someone like you.”
    “And what am I like?”
    “A detective, a combat rep, a woman with a shaved head and a tattoo that splits her face.”
    “Right. Well, I’m equally surprised that a political leader would recognize Shakespeare’s words. I thought activists like you dedicated your lives to the cause, not to reading and painting your fingernails.”
    Myriam smiled crookedly and briefly lowered her head, pensive. When she raised it once more, her face again showedthat unexpected fragility that the detective thought she’d seen moments earlier.
    “Why don’t you like me, Husky?”
    The detective shifted uncomfortably in her seat. In reality, she was sorry she had said so much. She didn’t know why she was behaving in such an unusual way. Discussing chaos in life with a client? She must have lost her mind.
    “It’s not that. Let’s just say I find people with a victim mentality annoying.”
    She’d done it again! Bruna was astonished. She was continuing to argue with Chi, totally out of control.
    “You think, for example, that denouncing labs that don’t look for a cure for TTT is feeling victimized? I have the data: considerably less than one percent of the budget for medical research is spent on the search for a cure for Total Techno Tumor, even though we reps make up fifteen percent of