Short Story Fiction Contest May 2014 | Page 209

Lux had enjoyed the trip, though he had enjoyed more than that the half hour alone in the NeuroSys park before the corporate guards had rousted him. It was a rare treat in the congestion of the urban center to have quiet seclusion outdoors.

“It’s not a trip I make much,” said Lux. “Don’t have enough friends in high places, I guess.”

Hansson squinted at him from across his desk, as if assessing how much of this was bluster. Then he laughed.

“High places,” he repeated. He slid an old-fashioned paper envelope across to Lux. “Open it. You’ll find documents and photographs related to the disappearance of my brother, Horace.”

Lux paged through them, making sure to surreptitiously capture whatever images he could using his implanted heads-up gear. The less he had to rely on this paper the better.

“Horace was not well loved,” said Nels.

“You think that has something to do with the disappearance?”

“It might. His politics were radical. He couldn’t hold down a job.”

“And he was an addict,” Lux said, seeing a couple of arrest documents and the address of a treatment center in Seven Corners.

“You picked up on that?” said Nels. “That’s right. Adagio.”

“Common enough addiction.”