The Second Sphere

It was a few minutes after nine in the evening when I knocked on Cody’s door, having formulated a plan to extract what I wanted from him. The sheer velocity of the past fifteen hours had me on edge. Over a thousand were dead in New Mumbai.

There were briefings and meetings and decisions and more meetings; transcripts and satellite images and the creation of data sets. The work itself was overwhelming, but not as much as the promise that I would lose my job if I didn’t come up with information that would impress Quincy Laslow.

The auditors were genial enough and we were cooperative. They made copies of all the information related to the Lunar Capitol bombing case and took it back to their home office. They would return an assessment within the next month.

Cody opened the door and, before he could get a word out, I delivered a fist to his solar plexus. He collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. I stepped through the doorway, slammed the door, and walked into the main room. A strong smell of transfer—oily, greasy flesh wafted in the air. There were fewer throwaways then there had been that morning. They were scattered about on the couches, on the floor, and on the bed in the corner. Their eyes were open, intimating life, but their faces were blank canvasses.

“The fuck?” Cody huffed as he dragged himself along the floor and into the light of the living room. He pushed himself against the wall and massaged his chest, his face pained.

“The fuck is that shitty word you gave me about an attack on the Lunar Capitol,” I said as I swept a plate covered in a dried red substance from the counter on to the floor for dramatic effect. It fell with a clatter. “Third fucking time, asshole.”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked. Cody stood and leaned against the wall to my right. He wore loose fitting white pants and the same GR t-shirt from that morning. There were grooves on his face, as though he aged tens of years in the past few seconds.

“Everyone thinks this Lunar Capitol plot was a diversion for what happened in New Mumbai,” I said.

Cody shrugged. “And how am I supposed to know anything about that?” he asked.

“Maybe you don’t remember being the one to tell me about this Lunar Capitol plot,” I said.

“I remember,” Cody said. “But I’m not sure how this has anything to do with me.” His hand covered the front of his chest as I stepped toward him.

“It has everything to do with you.”

“Looks to me like you folks got a piece of information and followed it. What else do you want? I thought that was exactly what this was.” Playing the role of the ignorant middleman was his only way. I knew that. Still, I didn’t want him to believe that I found it acceptable.

“Did you know anything about New Mumbai?” I asked. I puffed my chest and a shadow fell over his face.

“I’m not privy to shit. Whatever I pass on to you? I get that from up above.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that’s why I’m sitting here? I want to know who gave you the Lunar Capitol.”

Cody lifted himself from the wall, slid from the shadow, and shuffled around in a full circle like he didn’t know where he wanted to go. When his gaze returned to me, his eyes were saucer-wide, and he began to shake his head. “Can’t do it. Nope.” He folded his arms.

My right hand suddenly grasped his throat and the left hand pulled out a pulse pistol from the holster around my shoulders. I put the pistol next to Cody’s right eye and pushed him back toward where he stood before. He struggled. But he wasn’t about to break my grip.

“I’m not so much asking you as I’m telling you. If I can’t get something to help me out of this mess? If I get the boot from the Laslow Corporation? Not only are you getting named, but I’ll personally make sure that you get shipped to Mars,” I said. There was more truth in that little speech then I’d spoken in quite some time.

Cody struggled for breath. His hands gripped my wrist. “You think you’re the only one with sway?” he said. “What do you think will happen if I give a name? Someone will come down on me, man!”

“Life is hard,” I said. “Sometimes you make choices.” My fingers tightened around his throat. I jabbed the pistol into Cody’s neck and felt him shudder.

“Victor Newberry,” Cody said. I let go of his throat and he slid down the wall. He panted and his eyes swam in his head. I thought that I heard him wrong.

“Victor Newberry,” I repeated.

“Yeah,” Cody said, his fingers carefully examining the damage I inflicted. I dropped into a seat and began tapping my foot.

“Victor Newberry.”

“All I know is that whenever he comes Lunar, I hook him up with what I’ve got. Comes here for work. Got a place in some fancy condo building. Sometimes he slips me a bit of info that might be useful. I pass that shit along,” Cody said.

“Victor Newberry. Lunar Capitol,” I said the words again, just to make sure that I had them right.

“Dude knows shit,” Cody said. There were long purple splotches traced just above his collarbone.

I’d been waiting for an opportunity like this for the past fifty years. Connecting the Green Revolution to a public figure would certainly take the imminent pressure off of me, not to mention provide links to other well known GR sympathizers. I had to make a play.

“Can you get us together?” I asked.

Cody looked up at the ceiling, as though the answer were above his head.

“Cody!”

“I don’t know.” He put his head in his hands.

“The guy knows that you’re passing this information along?” I asked.

“He knows,” Cody said.

“Then put us together,” I said. “The fuck’s the big deal?”

I caught a glimmer of uncertainty in Cody’s eye. I presented the most intimidating appearance I could. Within a moment, he realized the inevitability of his position.

“Okay,” Cody said. “I can get at him. He’s supposed to be coming today or tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t give a shit what you’ve got to do to make it happen,” I said. “Just get it done.”

For a moment, I felt liberation from Quincy Laslow’s threats. And that liberation led me to an intense felling of joy. But that feeling of joy scared me. I trusted Cody as much as a man could trust a drug-dealing pimp. So I couldn’t count on his word alone. I needed to confirm that what Cody told me was bona fide. I couldn’t go back to the office and give this good news without corroboration. There was someone I needed to see.