"You like this?"
"Been seeing more and more of them. I guess that means you're a Kicker."
"A fully dissimilated Kicker. You know what that means?"
"No, but I'm learning. I'm halfway through the book."
"No shit? Well, you're all right, then. A gamer and a Kicker—"
"Not yet."
He smiled. "Oh, you will be. You'll be dissimilated before you know it."
This was the second time someone had told him that. Not a comforting thought.
"But anyway—a gamer and a Kicker-to-be. Cool."
Jack couldn't resist: "What do you know about the author? Hank Thompson, isn't it? Ever hear of him before?"
Bolton's eyes narrowed. "Why you askin that?"
"Oh, just wondering. One minute nobody's ever heard of him, next he's on TV and his little Kicker Man is everywhere. Pretty amazing."
Bolton eased back. "Yeah. Pretty damn-fuck amazin."
Something in the tone… chagrin? A hint of animosity? Jack couldn't peg it.
He let it drop and they moved on to reminiscing about their favorite Atari games in the old days.
"My momma was poor, so I never had a console of my own, but I made sure I hung out with kids who did. Missile Command—I loooooved Missile Command."
Bolton was animated, lively, charming, easy to be with. If Jack hadn't known what he knew, he might have found himself liking the guy. Easy to see why Dawn had fallen under his spell.
He couldn't see this guy doing what had been done to Gerhard. Must have been somebody else. And given that, was it possible he'd been framed for the Atlanta murders as Thompson had said?
Perhaps… but his abduction of Levy hinted at what he might be capable of.
Jack needed to know more about this guy. Which was why he was here…
"And when I wasn't wearin out an Atari Two Thousand's joystick, I was plunking every quarter I could steal into the arcade."
That reminded Jack of something.
"Hey, there's a place in the city that has all the old arcade games. We could head in and—"
Bolton shook his head. "Maybe someday, but not for a while."
"Hey, if you're short—"
"Hell no, I ain't short. I just got other things to do. I'm what you call a man with a mission. Can't get sidetracked till I done what needs doin. Then I get to the fun stuff."
Jack couldn't help leaning forward. This was what he'd come for. He couldn't believe Bolton was going to tell him.
"What needs doing?"
Bolton got a faraway look. "Workin on a project. Real important. Got to concentrate on that. But when it's rollin, when I done my part, I can coast until the big day."
"What big day?"
He grinned, more to himself than Jack. "Why, the comin of the Key to the future, of course. A new world."
Jack was speechless for a moment, then managed a feeble, "Huh?"
Bolton shook himself. "Just kiddin."
Jack glanced again at the tattoo.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with Kickers, would it?"
Again the narrowed eyes. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, that author's always saying he's out to change the world."
Bolton smiled. "Yeah, he is, ain't he. Well, he's right about one thing: The world's gonna change like it's never changed before. What's up'll be down, and what's down'll be up."
He glanced at the Coors clock on the wall.
"Whoops. Gotta go." He rose and stuck out his hand. "Nice meetin'ya. Maybe we'll work out a two-player arrangement one of these days and see who's top dog."
"Yeah. Let's do that."
He watched him go but didn't follow. Couldn't. Had a date in Rathburg for his payoff. Bolton was most likely heading over to the diner to hook up with Dawn.
Jack stayed where he was, an uncomfortable mix ol feelings stewing around him.
A "key to the future"… what the hell was that?
But a changing world, up moving down and down moving up… it all reeked of the Otherness.
4
Jack pulled into the A&P parking lot half an hour early and set up watch from a shaded corner.
Around a quarter after he saw Levy's Infiniti enter, followed by a battered and dirty old Jetta. They parked in adjoining spaces, then Levy got out and spoke to the driver of the Jetta, a middle-aged woman. After a brief conversation, Levy returned to his car and the Jetta moved two lanes away where the driver had a clear view of the Infiniti.
A little research had revealed that Levy occupied the number two spot at Creighton, right below medical director Julia Vecca. Could the driver be Vecca? Seemed like a long shot. Hard to believe the medical director of a federal facility would drive around in a heap like that.
Whoever she was, what was she doing here?
Jack could think of a couple of ways to find out, but settled on the most direct.
He pulled on a pair of leather driving gloves, stepped out of his car, and walked the perimeter of the lot until he was behind the Jetta. Then he beelined for it.
She jumped and let out a short, sharp screech when he yanked open her door.
"You won't be able to hear a thing from here. Come and join the meeting. I don't want you to miss a word."
She stared up at him through thick lenses. Her gray-streaked brown hair managed to be simultaneously mousy and ratty. Her suit was wrinkled and her white blouse showed ring around the collar. She grabbed for her phone.
"I'm calling the police!"
He took her arm and gently pulled her from the car.
"No need, lady. We're just taking a short walk to your pal Levy's car over there, where we'll sit and get to know each other."
The fear in her eyes turned to annoyance as she allowed herself to be led across the lot.
Levy's eyes fairly bulged through the windshield when he saw Jack and his companion. He jumped out of the car and stepped toward them.
"Julia, I—"
Julia, ay? Thanks for the ID.
Jack waved him back inside. "Nothing's changed, doc. We've got a table for three now, that's all."
Jack opened the front passenger door and ushered Vecca into the seat, then climbed into the rear.
"Comfy," he said as he settled on the soft cushions. He shoved a gloved hand toward Levy. "Now, as they say at the Oscars: the envelope, please."
Without a word, Levy slapped it into his palm. Jack opened it and pretended to count, then stuffed it into a pocket.
"Okay. Now that that's out of the way, why are you here, Doctor Vecca?"
She jumped at the sound of her name, then turned in her seat and focused suspicious eyes on him.
"You know who I am? How? Have I been under surveillance?"
He winked at her. "I'll never tell. But you might consider washing your underwear between wearings."
That had been a guess but, considering her appearance, an easy one. She glared at him.
"I came here to get a look at the man who is blackmailing us. I must say, I'm not impressed."
"Then why didn't you simply arrive with the doc here?" When she didn't answer, he added, "Oh, I get it. You didn't want me to know you were involved. You need deniabilty so you can leave Levy in the lurch should this whole situation head south, right?"
Vecca reddened while Levy's neutral expression said he'd already figured that.
"And as for blackmail," Jack went on, "I didn't ask for this. I was offered."
"That's immaterial. Just make sure you do what you're being paid for—which is nothing."
"Or what? You'll sic Bolton on me like you sicced him on Gerhard?"
He was probing here, looking for a reaction.
"I've heard enough of this." She opened the car door. "Remember what I told you."
She slammed the door and stormed back to her car.