Equal Part 1: The Confrontation

  Outside the front door now. Two racing figures on the moonlit streets.

  Then Orcus was on him.

  Orcus throwing the guy to the pavement with such force he bounced on his side and landed on his back. Orcus straddling him now, sitting on his chest, grinning down at him, bringing the gleaming knife to the rat’s face, putting the tip of the blade in his nose, having some fun with him, scaring him a little.

  So easy.

  Runner trembling, begging for his life, surrendering.

  Oh, is that right? You surrender, huh?

  Guy must have seen the look in Orcus’s eyes, that hardened glare, the one with an edge of menace. Yeah, he saw it. You could tell because he was saying, Oh, please, please, you can capture me and bring me in without all the violence.

  Listen to this guy trying to tell the Sheriff how to do his job. What an arrogant Physician. Who does he think he is?

  Orcus flashed back to his childhood, remembering that Physician treating him like a moron . . .

  Coming out of his reverie now, Orcus was moving the tip of his tongue back and forth on his lower lip, staring down at his catch. He began to trace the outline of the guy’s mouth with the tip of the blade. Eyes looking up at him, pleading for mercy. Orcus thinking, Who’s the moron now, uh?

  He brought the blade away from the Physician’s face. Then he winked at him and said, “Had you worried, huh?” Orcus smiling now, mocking, enjoying the moment.

  The Physician, lying there on his back, stared up. Smile of relief beginning to form. Hope in his eyes.

  Just then Orcus grinned. He moved his eyebrows up and down twice. He gripped the knife with both hands and raised it up and brought it down into the heart. Again and again.

  After, Orcus wiped the blade clean, blood smearing on the dead guy’s white tunic. Then he slipped the knife into its sheath and grunted to his feet.

  Standing here, his hair matted with drying sweat, Orcus inspected his handiwork. Man, look at that. Nice.

  Now he raised his boot over the dead guy’s face. He stomped down hard. Again and again. Crushing the face.

  Then he walked away. Whistling.

  CHAPTER 5

  SHERIFF JANUS GESTURED to the bartender. The man nodded and brought him another glass of vodka. It was Janus’s third drink.

  He was thinking about the painting, the one that looked just like him, an amazing resemblance. How was Diana able to paint it? Had she seen him somewhere? Must have. How else could she have known what he looked like?

  Janus frowning now. Thinking about it. Sipping his vodka.

  Where could she have seen him? At the black market? At work? Could have been anywhere. The real question was, how come she painted that picture? To mock him? Janus couldn’t figure it out.

  Now he sipped his vodka, staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, a man coming to the realization that his perfect capture record was at risk. Janus knew Diana was a different kind of Runner. She was clever and bold. There were only two days left to capture her. And Janus was running out of ideas.

  Now he raised his glass to the reflection in the mirror. Frowning, he said, “Here’s to you, the best Sheriff ever,” knowing the words were empty. He took a mouthful of the vodka and tipped his head back and closed his eyes as the warmth slid down his throat.

  When he opened his eyes he saw the bartender looking at him. Janus gave the man a nod—the universal signal for ordering another drink. Then he took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder at the other customers. Who knew the black market bar would be like this? The place was packed.

  Drinking was something Janus usually preferred to do alone. It led to less trouble. But it was good to finally see what the black market bar was like.

  As his eyes scanned the scene he wondered if Diana was here. Maybe spying on him again. He studied each face. He didn’t see her. He didn’t see anyone he knew. Except for the man in the mirror.

  Now Janus watched as a young woman got up from a table and came up to him, giving him a seductive look, Janus appreciating the way her eyes were half-closed. She sat down on the stool next to his. She crossed her legs. She said, “Hey.” One simple word. But the way she said it? Janus just knew she was a prostitute. So when she asked him his name he said, “Beat it.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “You heard me.”

  Her eyes weren’t half-closed anymore. Now they were wide open, staring right at him. “You’re an ass.”

  “That’d be me.”

  Something occurred to Janus after the prostitute left. It was something he remembered reading in Diana’s file. What he remembered, Diana used to be a Cook. Janus thought it might not be a bad idea to check it out, her last place of employment, see what her coworkers had to say. It might provide clues as to her current whereabouts.

  Now another idea came to him, something else he could investigate. Diana’s art supplies. She’d bought them from someone. But who? It’d have to be someone she knew pretty well.

  More leads. More clues. Janus was on a roll.

  He drank his fourth glass of vodka. He yawned and stretched. It was late. It was time for him to get back home. He needed to get a good night’s sleep so he could wake up refreshed and ready to work his plan.

  He was about to slide off the stool when he spotted the prostitute again. She was with another man, dancing slow and grinding her hips, teasing her potential john. The man was drunk and loud. His speech was slurring. He was slushing his s’s, saying wasss instead of what’s.

  Janus kept watching the man and the prostitute. He wondered why anyone would have to pay for sex in this day and age. Sex was easy to come by now. Not like it used to be. Sex used to be complicated before the founding of Equal. You could get a woman pregnant, she could give birth to your child, and you both could raise it together. But Scientists had changed all that. Now pregnancy was impossible, so sex was uncomplicated, easy to come by.

  Now Janus slid off the stool. He wobbled and then steadied, his hand going to the stool. The room was spinning round and round. Everything was a blur. He staggered a little, weaving, as he walked out of the black market bar and into the night.

  * * *

  WHISTLING. SHERIFF JANUS was sure he’d heard it. He cocked his head now and stood listening. Nothing. Dead quiet. He looked at his horse, dark in the dead of night, rolling white eyes staring back at him. The animal’s ears were moving, pointing in different directions. It confirmed Janus’s suspicion, so he kept listening. About a minute later he heard the whistling again. Who’d be awake now, in the middle of the night, whistling?

  Janus stood still, quiet for a moment, deciding what to do. He gripped the bridle and led the horse into the stable. He left the stable and headed down the slope toward the creek behind the back of the building. When he got to the creek he bent and scooped a handful of frigid water at his face. He gasped against the cold. He knew he shouldn’t have had that fourth glass of vodka at the black market bar.

  Now he moved through the woods to a rise of ground above the creek. From here he could see all the windows running the length of the building. His eyes were drawn to the third floor. His floor. The one where his lodging was located. He saw the flickering light of candles coming from one of the windows . . .

  Wait a minute.

  Was that his window? He counted the windows across the third floor. One, two, three. Yep, it was his window all right. Candles were burning in his lodging. Had he left candles burning? Nope, he was always careful about that. Then, what? A burglar? It’d have to be a burglar stupid enough to steal from a Sheriff—a qualification that wouldn’t necessarily narrow the field of suspects.

  Now Janus made his way through the woods toward the building. When he reached it he drew his sword. He took a moment to curse himself for getting too drunk. He thought, It’s okay for a drunkard to draw his sword so long as he’s cautious not to cut off his own head.

  Janus moved along the wall of the building till he got to the c
orner. Peering around the edge, he surveyed the front of the building. No accomplices in sight. Good. He headed toward the front door, his hand sliding along the brick wall, adding support to unsteady legs.

  Inside the building he moved faster. Up the stairs, across the landing, up more stairs. He paused on the third floor to catch his breath. Then he crouched low and looked down the length of the hall. He could see a sliver of light showing beneath his door.

  He was about to go down the hall when the door creaked open and light spilled out into the hall. Janus froze. The open door no more than ten feet away. Was someone about to leave?

  After waiting a few moments Janus finally decided it was time to make his move. It was now or never. He could do this one of two ways. One, he could do it slow and quiet. Or, two, he could do it fast and loud. Neither option offered the element of surprise, so Janus chose a third option. He decided to put a ladder up to the window, sneak in from behind, surprise the intruder.

  Now Janus started back down the stairs. He was about to slip out the front door when he heard a woman’s voice calling from upstairs. The voice saying, “What are you afraid of?”

  Afraid?

  Janus started back up the stairs. His bootsteps, heavy on the stairs, ascended like the hoofs of a Clydesdale. All pretense of stealth had vanished.

  When he got to the third floor he recognized the woman right away. It was Diana. She was standing in the open doorway, her face glowing in the flickering candlelight, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes. Her tunic was sparkling like bits of colored glass shifting in a kaleidoscope. It was unlike any tunic Janus had ever seen. Diana was unlike any woman he’d ever seen.

  He stood staring at her, unable to pull his eyes away, seeing now why her Equalizer had been rendered powerless against her stunning beauty. All the Equalizers in the world could never cloak such beauty.

  There was something about the way she was looking at him, something he could feel deep down inside, something that felt like an intense rush of warmth.

  She said something now. She told him to come inside. She waved him to come inside, never taking her eyes from him, smiling eyes that were filled with life.

  It took Janus a moment to react. When he finally came back to reality he put his sword back in its sheath. It took him two tries.

  Now he started toward Diana. His eyes followed her as she drifted back inside. He was wondering how to handle this situation. Should he apprehend her right away? Or should he wait to see what she had to say? He still hadn’t made up his mind when he crossed the threshold.

  Inside the room he watched her sit at the round table and cross her legs. He went to the table and pulled a chair around and put his foot up on it and rested his forearms on his knee and looked at her. He raised his eyebrows and waited. It was her move.

  Diana smiled at him. She said, “You any good with that?” nodding to his sheathed sword.

  Janus didn’t say anything. Just shrugged.

  “Bet you are,” she said. “When you’re sober.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.”

  “You sure seem to know a lot about me.”

  Diana reached into her pocket. Right away Janus began to pull out his knife. He stopped as soon as she held up her free hand. She produced from her pocket a wanted poster that bore her image. It was the same one Janus had pinned to the oak tree at the black market.

  Holding the wanted poster up now, Diana said, “And you sure seem to know a lot about me.”

  Janus had to smile at that. He liked the way she handled herself. She was smooth.

  He sat down, straddling the chair backward, resting his forearms on the back. “Those other Sheriffs,” he said. “The ones who ran out of time before capturing you? You do the same thing to them? Follow them around town. Paint pictures of ‘em. Show up at their lodging.”

  Diana was shaking her head. “They weren’t like you.”

  Janus rubbed his hand over his mouth and looked away. After a few moments his eyes came back to her. “And what am I like?”

  “You have a warm heart,” she said, touching his arm.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “By Fama?”

  Janus pictured Fama with her gold tunic and aged face and incredible body. “Fama told you about my visit?”

  Diana patted his hand. “I am Fama.”

  Frowning, Janus thought, What? You are Fama?

  After a moment he said, “What?”

  “I am Fama. Well, I was. It was a disguise. A mask. Made out of rubber. And painted gray. I am an artist, after all.”

  Janus couldn’t believe it. A disguise. A mask. He felt a little embarrassed now. As he rubbed the back of his neck he thought about how Diana had played him for a fool. He should have known better.

  After clearing his throat he said, “And the tunic? The gold tunic?”

  Diana smiled at him. “Got it years ago. Back when I was working as a Clothier. I ran across it at work one day and thought, Hmmm, that might come in handy. And sure enough it did.”

  Never would it have occurred to Janus that Fama had really been Diana in disguise. Now he understood his attraction to Fama. The woman had been a little too sensual for someone who was supposed to be almost fifty.

  Now Janus smiled at Diana. He said to her in a low voice, “When you were disguised as Fama you sure had some terrific things to say about yourself.”

  Diana laughed. “Shameless, I know.”

  You’re not kidding, Janus thought. He remembered Fama bragging on Diana, telling him that Diana was a magical and enchanting woman, that Diana never thought she was better than anyone else. Now Janus pictured his conversation with Fama, seeing it in his mind’s eye. It reminded him of something.

  All of a sudden he snapped his fingers. Said to Diana, “You were wearing an Equalizer when you were disguised as Fama.”

  “Part of my disguise.”

  “How’d the electronic signals change your appearance?”

  “They didn’t.”

  “Oh.”

  When Diana said, “The Equalizer was deactivated,” Janus raised his eyebrows and said, “You know how to do that, deactivate an Equalizer?”

  “Sure. Used to do it all the time. Growing up, you know?”

  Janus was impressed.

  He thought, She knows how to manipulate an Equalizer.

  That thought led to another.

  He thought, She knows how to manipulate you.

  That thought made him angry. He resented having been played for a fool.

  His next thought, Okay, you listened to what she had to say. Now it’s time for you to do your job. You need to capture the Runner, bring her in, and let justice take its course.

  Diana spoke before Janus could do anything. “Are you happy?”

  Was he happy? Meaning what?

  He asked her.

  And she said, “Your life. The way it is. Are you happy?”

  Janus frowned. Thought about it. Thought about his life. The way it was. Happy? He’d never thought about it before. He’d never had to because happiness was axiomatic. Equality was happiness . . . and everyone was Equal . . . so everyone was happy. Simple logic.

  “Of course I’m happy,” he said. “Everyone’s happy.”

  The way Diana was looking at him made him wonder if he was slurring his words. He felt sober. It didn’t seem like he was slurring his words.

  “Janus,” she said. “You only think you’re happy. Truth is, you’re not.” She said, “See, all your life—and mine too—we’ve been conditioned by society. Conditioned to love Equality. To associate it with happiness.”

  Janus was listening to her voice in the way you might listen to gentle rain. He was watching her lips as they formed the words. He was mesmerized by those lips, those curved lips, soft and full. Now those lips spoke again.

  “What do the citizens of Equal value above everything else?”

  Now those lips stopped speaking. Janus came out of his trance. It
took him a moment to register her question. He repeated it aloud. “What do the citizens of Equal value above everything else?” Then he answered it. “Equality.”

  “And how about you, Janus? What do you value above everything else?”

  Janus took his time. He said, “Equality.”

  Diana nodded. She seemed calm, showing no concern about being a Runner, no concern about being near a Sheriff. Even though her life was in jeopardy.

  Janus spoke again before Diana could say anything. “And you?” he said. “What do you value above everything else?”

  His question was rewarded with a smile that showed white teeth against the gray of her skin. Even her eyes were smiling at him. He looked into those eyes. Eyes so stunning they seemed of another world. Eyes in which the flickering candlelight was dancing.

  “Freedom,” Diana said. “That’s what I value most.”

  “And what about Equality?” Janus said.

  “Equality is the opposite of freedom. You can’t have both.”

  He gave her a blank look.

  She leaned closer. She said in her nice tone of voice, “Do you want to spend your life being like everyone else, having nothing to distinguish you from your neighbor, or from your neighbor’s neighbor?” She said, “Because that’s what Equality means. It means existing as the image of everyone else, sharing the same inescapable social destiny, relinquishing the freedom to be an individual.” She said, “Freedom or Equality. Only one can make you happy. For me it’s freedom.”

  Janus found it ironic that a woman who valued her freedom above all else was about to lose all of it. It reminded him he had a job to do. He said to himself, You have a perfect capture record to maintain. Do your job. Do it now. Stop putting it off. Capture the Runner, bring her in, and let justice take its course.

  Now he stood up out of the chair and took a rope from his pocket and told Diana to turn around with her hands behind her back. She stared at him. When he took hold of her arm she wrenched free and fell to the ground. He glared down at her. She was sitting on her heels, trying to smile up at him, but then her face twisted and broke. She buried her eyes in the crook of her arm and sobbed.

  Janus didn’t know what to do. He stood watching her. She was sniffling, hugging herself tight, rocking back and forth. Was she playing him for a fool again? More mind games? Janus had no idea.

  What he did, he stooped, putting his hand on her shoulder. “There, there,” he said, patting her.