Freedom TM

sipped his coffee. “So they let you in?”
    “You’re a dick. You know that?” Price didn’t look at him, but instead busied himself reading something in D-Space.
    “I needed to talk to Riley alone.”
    “So you ditched me in a truck stop. No, that’s fine. Never mind that I had virtually
nothing
to do with your identity death, and that I resuscitated you after your near execution—for which I never received so much as a thank-you. No, it’s fine. It’s no wonder the Daemon could make a bad guy out of you. You know why?
Because you’re a bad guy
.” Price ripped off a piece of toast with his teeth and resumed reading in virtual space.
    Sebeck didn’t feel like arguing, but then again, he didn’t feel like reading anymore either. He tossed the paper aside. It was a tribal rag that dealt more with school announcements and local council news. There was little mention of the vast construction project outside the window.
    He turned to look out the tall bank of windows along the outsidewall. The entire facility appeared to have been carved out of the solid rock face—and the crushed rock used to generate hydrogen, no doubt. The dining room had a broad view of the valley floor, and the extensive construction under way there.
    Just then he saw Riley approaching through the dining hall. Many people smiled and waved as they saw her, and she paused at several tables to exchange pleasantries. But she walked inexorably toward Sebeck. He wondered how she knew where to find him, but then he realized he could probably be pinpointed easily in the fabric of D-Space.
    Riley was dressed like the day before. As she stepped up to the table, she didn’t smile or greet Sebeck. “Are you ready? It’s seven thirty, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
    Sebeck gestured to Price. “Riley, this is Price. Price this is—”
    She interrupted him. “We’ve already met, Sergeant.”
    Price nodded as he kept eating. “She heard my tale of woe.”
    “You haven’t exactly been decent to Chunky, and the fact is that someone must handle logistics for your quest. At first level you barely have the darknet credits necessary to function. The darknet isn’t a commune, Sergeant. Things cost money. Chunky paid for your breakfast.”
    Price nodded while still reading. “Don’t thank me. Thank the quest fund.”
    It did occur to Sebeck that Price was always the one getting them new identities, new credit cards, and new cars.
    “If you want to get to the next stage of your quest, you’ll need to be certified. Let’s go.”
    He nodded. “Where are we doing this?”
    ______________
    A brief journey in a modern, climate-controlled elevator brought Sebeck and Riley twenty floors straight up through solid rockbefore the doors opened onto a solid stone corridor. It was amply lit by compact, warm-colored lights. Oddly, there were fire strobes and smoke alarms bolted into the solid rock walls. This was no ancient cliff-dweller ruin. It was modern construction—though it would take a volcano to set fire to the place. Apparently darknet communities had to follow real-world fire codes.
    Riley walked purposefully down the hall past several numbered doors and stopped at one that was already open. It led into a large conference room with a broad wooden table surrounded by a dozen modern office chairs. A grease board was bolted to the nearby wall. She motioned for Sebeck to take a seat and closed the door behind them.
    “Not exactly the environment I was expecting to learn magic in.”
    She sat on the edge of the table nearby and just looked at him for several moments.
    He gave her a questioning look. “What?”
    “I’ve read up on you. You’ve suffered, but you’re not the only one who has. Did you ever think to ask Price anything about
his
life? No. And I don’t see that you’ve taken any responsibility for the suffering you’ve caused others, either. Your wife and son, for starters.”
    “My family is none of your business. Yes, I lied to the people close to me—and to myself. I had a long time in prison to think about the person I was back then. I’ve got nothing
but
regrets, so back off.”
    Riley considered this. Her expression lost its hard edge. She stood up. “A few years ago, I was riding near El Morro. I saw a coyote on a ridgeline, trying to keep up with his pack. He was missing a leg. He looked thin. But he
was
keeping up. That always stuck with me. It’s something we can learn from animals. They don’t