Page 13 of Girl, Fractured

‘Do my eyes deceive me?Ella Dark?Somebody piss-test me, quick.’

‘Right here in the flesh.’

Roadrunner’s beard had grown sentient since the last time she’d seen him.Either he was going for the terrorist look or he was hiding a nest of squirrels in there.

‘What are you doing down here?Is it 2021 already?’he asked.

‘More like 1991 with that shirt.’

‘This is a classic.I got married in this.’Roadrunner placed two energy drinks on the mess that was his desk.There were trinkets, action figures and what looked like a duck wearing tactical gear.

‘You look like Ace Ventura.’

‘He couldn’t do what I do.You get off at the wrong floor or something?’

‘Maybe.What makes you think I don’t miss this place?’

Roadrunner smashed his keyboard with his palm and jolted his three monitors to life.Two of them displayed lines of code.The third was a children’s cartoon on pause.‘Because you never come back here.I mean, if I got promoted, I wouldn’t either, but you know what I mean.’

‘You can graduate the basement, but the basement never graduates you.’Ella nodded at his third monitor.‘Why are you watching cartoons?’

‘Why aren’t you watching cartoons?That’s a better question.’

‘Speaking of better questions, I’ve got a good one for you.Remember when I came down here a few months ago?’

‘Barely.Give me specifics.’

‘It was around October.I’d lost my cell phone.I came hunting for it down here.’

‘Hmm.Vaguely.Why?’

‘Well, I thought you might remember the exact date.I need to figure out what I was doing that day.’

Roadrunner chuckled.‘First, the old Ella would already have those details backed up in her brain.Second, ifyoudon’t remember the date, then I sure as hell don’t.’

It was a long shot, but worth a try.Ella conceded defeat.‘Figured.I just thought you might have a reference point or something.’

‘Hold up.I might not remember it, but someone else down here might.’

Ella’s heart rate picked up.She glanced around the room.She didn’t remember talking to anyone else last time she was down here.

‘Really?Who?’

Roadrunner pointed at the tactical duck watching over his workstation.‘Herbert.He sees all.’

Ella cocked a brow.‘Uh.That’s a wooden duck.’

‘Herbert’s my new pal, and he’s not just your average wooden duck in riot gear.’Roadrunner grabbed him and presented its backside to Ella.There was a USB stuck in there.‘See this?Herbert records every conversation I have at this desk.120 hours per week of pure, inane drivel.Well, most of it.Some of it turns out to be useful.’

Ella took the novelty item and turned it over in her hands.Of course Roadrunner had a surveillance duck.If there was a Bureau award for eccentric genius, Roady would take it by a mile.‘First question’s first, why do you have a duck that records everything?That must violate several codes of conduct.’

‘Three, but Herbert pays for himself.Marshall came down here back in spring, demanded I make some headway on this terrorist cell situation by May.He came back in the first week of March, asking me where his report was.I told him he’d said May, not March.Marshall disagreed.’

Ella inspected the duck’s butt.There was a hundred gigabytes of detachable data lodged where the sun didn’t shine.‘And Herbert proved him wrong?’

Roadrunner patted Herbert’s wooden head.‘Yup.This duck’s my insurance against selective memory.You know how bad that is around here.’

‘Fair point.Then what do you do with the files?Is he recording right now?’

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