Chapter 29: The Weight of A Secret
In a tense boardroom confrontation, Murph faces accusations from Zeke, revealing the complexity of their past and the weight of choices made.
Omni watched Murph, trying to reconcile his image with Zeke’s accusations. Zeke’s bitterness and anger now painted a different story of their past friendship.
How could this be someone that Murph had known? How could this man have been a friend at all? And what did Murph do for the man to hate him so?
Her doubts gnawed at her, and she nibbled at the cuticle of her thumb, her gaze never leaving Murph’s face. The truth lay before her like a puzzle, and she sensed that Murph was hiding the full picture.
Omni needed to know if they could — if she could trust him. She’d been in his mind, in his memories. She wasn’t sure he knew what was real and what was not anymore. He stood for a moment in silence. Everyone in the boardroom turned to him. The guard with the gun still had it firmly at his temple. Would Zeke really order his murder right here? Did Murph believe that?
The once grand boardroom of Pantheon Capital was now a decaying shadow. Flickering lights illuminated worn chairs and a scarred table. A creak occasionally broke the heavy silence, amplifying the room’s tension.
“You can put the gun down,” Murph said, his voice steady. Omni could almost believe he was reading her mind. He turned to face the guard, even with the bag obscuring his vision. How he managed that was unnerving.
She looked to Zeke, and he hesitated, his eyes narrowing, then nodded.
“Can I sit?” Murph asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he looked back at where Zeke was standing in the room. “You’re going to have to speak up.”
“Yes,” Zeke snapped, his impatience showing. “Cut him loose too.”
The guards took off Murph’s hood and cut the cable ties at his wrists. Omni saw the relief on his face, quickly replaced by a calm mask, hiding his anger.
Murph and Zeke sat at opposite ends of the table, like old rivals. Omni felt a chill at the sight.
“Get on with it,” Zeke commanded, his voice cold as the others took their seats or milled around the room.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Zeke,” Murph replied, his eyes locked on Zeke’s.
“Start before the assassin.”
Assassin? Omni frowned, her mind racing. What were they talking about?
“Right. The night before we planned to strike on this building, we’d discussed our plan,” Murph said, his voice measured, his eyes never leaving Zeke. “A plan we’d all agreed to.”
“I’d objected to it more than once,” Zeke interjected, his tone defiant.
“But when we went to bed that night, we had agreed. We were all on board. We all wanted to exact some measure of revenge on the people who’d killed our loved ones.” Murph’s voice was soft now, almost reflective, and Omni could see that he was choosing his words carefully, aware of the weight they carried.
The mix of resistance soldiers and Number gangers reacted differently to what Murph was saying. Both groups were ready for violence, and the tension in the room ratcheted up with each exchange.
Zeke gestured for Murph to continue. “A little after midnight they attacked the Number, I assume,” he said, his eyes flicking to the men with guns in the room.
Zeke spoke then, “They sent an assassin, and I was injured. That should’ve been a sign, Murph. A warning to stop, to reconsider. But you pushed on, regardless of the risks.”
Omni felt the weight of Zeke’s words. The choices made that night had ripple effects, leading them all to this very moment. The tension, the mistrust, it all stemmed from decisions made under pressure, and perhaps, without full consideration of the consequences. Murph’s silence was telling. He looked down, seemingly grappling with the weight of his past choices.
She turned back to Murph, who’d carried on talking. “… fought her off, with minor injuries, and decided we’d continue with the mission.”
Zeke’s hand slammed onto the table, the sound echoing in the room. “Don’t lie! I was shot and bleeding out on the damn stairs! Vinn had a gun to her head, and only by some miracle that killer let her go.”
Murph leaned forward, his teeth bared, his voice dripping with contempt. “That miracle was me. I talked her down, I connected with her, and convinced her not to use a street orphan as a human shield. Because I could smell the same history on her.”
“Oh please, you got lucky,” Zeke scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Regardless, we decided to continue with the strike,” Murph shot back, his jaw set.
“We did no such thing — we were divided.”
“We voted, and the majority still chose to go ahead.”
“Vinn would have followed you into hell.”
“She did,” Murph murmured, his voice breaking. He sat back, the heat gone out of him for a moment, his eyes distant. “We landed on the roof, dropped off by some heavy lifters. My djinn had us all connected on a private network so we could speak using our implants.”
He paused, his face contorting as the memory battled across it. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he continued. “So because of that, I could see what Vinn saw. So when she got shot, I felt it.”
The room was quiet, the tension palpable. Everyone listened, their breath held, as Murph’s voice filled the silence.
“She had dropped into a control room, going via the ducts that only she could have fit within. We needed her to upload our software so we could crack their internal network. This place was, and still is, hardened. There are benefits to stealing a bank.” He paused, his eyes flicking around the room, as if seeing it anew. “Anyway, she got in, got our software uploaded, and if it wasn’t for that, the mission would have been pointless.”
He stopped, taking a deep breath, and looked up at Zeke. For a moment, a myriad of emotions played across Zeke’s face before it settled into a familiar anger. Murph gave a resigned nod and continued, “We’d gotten our timing wrong by mere seconds. Just as she was about to climb out, a guard walked in. There was a fight. I tried to help from a distance,” he gestured vaguely with his hands, “I watched her take on a man nearly twice her size. She didn’t hesitate, not for a second. They traded blows, and she ended it with a blade to his eye.”
“How old was she?” Zeke’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the weight of his question hung heavily in the room.
“She was fifteen,” Murph replied, his voice equally quiet.
Omni frowned deeply at Murph, her heart aching. God, that was so young. Escape wasn’t a city for children, and it hadn’t been for years. In some parts, it hadn’t been for decades, especially in the ganglands. But even there, fifteen was too young for such violence.
Murph’s voice broke the silence again. “She was making her way to the roof when a second guard came in. He didn’t hesitate or even try to capture her. Seeing his comrade on the ground, he simply fired. I felt that bullet hit her.”
“We all did,” said Zeke from across the table. “What happened next?”
“I charged in and got her out,” Murph began, his voice filled with a mix of pride and regret. “I rained holy hell on them, and with your limited help, managed to get her to the roof.”
Zeke’s face reddened, his voice rising in anger. “Limited help? I was in another building! But I tracked her autochopper, and I was the one who arrived at Magda’s. I saw the blood, saw how pale she was. I heard her asking after you, checking to see if you made it out. She was dying, Murph, and all she cared about was you.”
Murph’s gaze dropped to the table, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did make it out, in the end.”
“You went back in, leaving her in that autochopper. They could’ve hacked it, anything could’ve happened—”
“I had to go back. I was so close to getting the people responsible for Jess and Gabe, so close to the ones truly responsible. I thought I could end it all, once and for all. But then I got hit by an override. It took everything from me to beat that kid.”
Zeke’s eyes darted to the corner of the room, and as they did, a palpable weight seemed to lift from the atmosphere. The hooded figure, enigmatic and silent, acknowledged with a single nod.
“My djinn had it under control,” Murph interrupted, frustration evident in his voice. He paused, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Why can’t I remember his damn name?” “Zephyr,” Zeke supplied, his voice softer now. “He erased himself from your memory.”
Almost immediately, electronics scattered around the room transitioned, their indicators flickering from a warning red to a reassuring green. Omni felt a brief disorientation as her implant rebooted. Casting a quick look around, she saw mirrored reactions on the faces of the others, a blend of surprise and understanding as their own devices sprang back to life.
Omni caught her breath as Ada, glowing ethereally, and Zephyr, intense and commanding, materialized in front of her now that her implant was online.
“Speak of the devil,” Zeke remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Zephyr responded with a smirk, “And he shall appear.” He fixed his gaze, however, intently on Murph, a storm of emotions playing across his features. He positioned himself behind Zeke, while Ada gravitated towards Omni.
Omni met Ada’s eyes, and for a moment, a warm smile passed between them. But the joy of reunion was short-lived. A surge of anger welled up inside Omni, fueled by the revelations and her torn loyalties. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she faced Murph, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and heartbreak.
“You’re still lying, aren’t you?” she accused, her voice rough with a mix of anger and disappointment. “You expect us to believe your version of events, but nothing adds up. You left Vinn behind, Murph. How could you?” Her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes.
Murph met her gaze, his face a mask of resignation mixed with guilt. “I did what I thought was necessary,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could trust Zephyr with Vinn’s safety. That’s the truth.”
Zephyr sighed, a curiously human sound from a mental projection of code on a server somewhere, “After all this time, you’re still hiding things. You’re still not open, and you’re still not being honest. Clear the room.”
Zeke’s eyebrows knitted in a frown, taken aback by Zephyr’s audacity. The djinn, sensing the tension, shrugged apologetically. “Forgive me, old habits. Secrets are best kept within the family.”
Zeke nodded, and the guards left the room, as well as the hooded figure in the corner. Now all who remained we Omni, her father, Zeke and Murph. And the two djinns, their images projected into the minds via their implants. Except for Farook, without an implant or a handheld, he was blind to the djinn’s presence.
Murph hesitated, his gaze distant. “Well…”
Zephyr’s voice cut through the tension. “What of Ayanda?”
Omni watched as the mere mention of the name seemed to physically strike Murph. His face became a canvas of rapidly changing emotions: confusion, fear, and then a blazing anger.
“Don’t you dare speak of my sister!” Murph’s voice was a roar. He surged to his feet so abruptly that his chair toppled over with a crash. The door swung open, revealing a guard with his weapon drawn. Zeke, already standing, gave a subtle signal to stand down.
The guard hesitated, his frown deepening, but then he slowly retreated, letting the door click shut behind him. The room was once again enveloped in a tense silence. Zephyr, arms crossed, stared intently at Murph, as did everyone else, all waiting for what he would say next.