The Sensation Read online

  PRAISE FOR AMANDA BRIDGEMAN

  “A compelling seat-of-the-pants murder mystery and a fascinating inquiry into good and evil and the possibility of redemption.”

  The Guardian

  “Part traditional police procedural, part exploration of redemption and the possibility of change.”

  Kaaron Warren, award-winning author of The Grief Hole and Tide of Stone

  “The Wire meets Blade Runner in this enthralling near-future crime thriller.”

  Nathan M Farrugia, USA Today bestseller

  “An old school whodunit set in a frighteningly near future.”

  Luke Preston, screenwriter and author of Out of Exile

  “Convincing near-future forecasting with great characters and a police-procedural murder mystery with some neat twists and turns.”

  Locus

  “This hard-boiled near-future SF thriller moves quickly and presents some thought-provoking ideas.”

  Kirkus Reviews

  “Bridgeman does not just build up her characters, but punishes them, and the thrills are all the more visceral for that.”

  Aurealis Magazine

  By the same author

  THE SALVATION SERIES

  The Subjugate

  THE AURORA SERIES

  Aurora: Darwin

  Aurora: Pegasus

  Aurora: Meridian

  Aurora: Centralis

  Aurora: Eden

  Aurora: Decima

  Aurora: Aurizun

  The Time of Stripes

  ANGRY ROBOT

  An imprint of Watkins Media Ltd

  Unit 11, Shepperton House

  89 Shepperton Road

  London N1 3DF

  UK

  angryrobotbooks.com

  twitter.com/angryrobotbooks

  Deeper underground

  An Angry Robot paperback original, 2020

  Copyright © Amanda Bridgeman 2020

  Cover by Kieryn Tyler

  Edited by Simon Spanton

  Set in Meridien

  All rights reserved. Amanda Bridgeman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Sales of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed” and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

  Angry Robot and the Angry Robot icon are registered trademarks of Watkins Media Ltd.

  ISBN 978 0 85766 856 1

  Ebook ISBN 978 0 85766 863 9

  Printed and bound in the United Kingdom by TJ International.

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  CONTENTS

  1: CLEARANCE

  2: ABSENT MINDS

  3: MOVING PICTURES

  4: TRIDENT

  5: CLUB LYFE

  6: ALTERNATIVES

  7: THE ‘MISSION

  8: GOLD ON THE CEILING

  9: DIABOLIQUE

  10: ABOUT LAST NIGHT

  11: COMPLEX REVISITATION

  12: FAR AND WIDE

  13: GHOSTED

  14: DEEPER UNDERGROUND

  15: MASTERSLAVE

  16: RISE ABOVE

  17: PERMANENT SCAR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  1: CLEARANCE

  Detective Salvi Brentt watched as the department’s designated psych reviewed her file. His face was hard to read; his eyes downcast, lips pursed in thought. Salvi saw the contents of her file through the glass data pane as he scrolled through it. There was a lot of data, more than she would’ve thought necessary. He did this every time they met, reviewed his notes to see where they should pick up from today. Except today was different. Today was the last session she was required to sit before being cleared back onto active duty. At least, she hoped so.

  For the past six weeks she’d been desk-bound, reviewing cases for the other detectives of hub 9, providing a human set of eyes to work alongside the department’s dedicated AI, Riverton. She’d been reviewing and lodging crime scene reports, canvassing reports, autopsy reports, suspect reports, interrogation reports, making calls, and basically anything the other detectives didn’t want to do. Mostly, though, she’d been answering a whole lot of questions about what went down on her last case in Bountiful and at the Solme Complex. That was the reason she was sitting there now on Doctor Marr’s couch. The department was doing their due diligence and making sure she was in the right state of mind to be let back onto the streets. She had, after all, killed a man. And he had almost killed her.

  Already this morning she’d been physically cleared for duty. The cast on her arm had finally been removed, and with one last set of painful injections to help strengthen the bone, she was good to go. All she had to do was clear this last hurdle, and it was one where x-rays couldn’t speak for her. They had, of course, scanned her brain to analyze it, giving two reasons why. The first was they had to ensure her submergence into the Bio-Lume gel at the Solme Complex hadn’t caused any lasting effects; that the bacteria hadn’t made its way inside her body. The second reason was to ensure no emotional scars had been left from the trauma of what went down. Of course, the latter was harder to prove. Regardless, they would analyze her brain anyway, comparing the new scans to those taken when she’d first joined the police force. It unnerved her. It made her feel like one of the Subjugates at the Solme Complex, being scrutinized to see what state her mind was in; to see whether it was safe to release her back onto the streets.

  Salvi felt she bore no emotional scars from what had happened. In fact she’d never felt better. She figured stopping a serial killer would do that to a person; knowing a brutal killer was off the street, knowing they couldn’t hurt anyone again, knowing she had been responsible for stopping them. Well, partially responsible. If Mitch hadn’t wounded the guy, she may not have been sitting here to tell the tale. Mitch’s gunshot had given her the seconds she’d needed to kick her attacker off. The killer had fallen back into the wall, and the crucifix that Salvi had stabbed into his back had pierced through his chest and killed him. The death was ruled as self-defense. Still, what she’d been through only made her want to get back out there and do her job even more. There were criminals to be caught. She was needed.

  “So…” Doctor Marr looked at her in earnest, examining her carefully with his thin, angular face. It always bore a look of deep concern, as though he was about to tell her bad news. “How have you been sleeping?”

  “Fine,” she said evenly.

  “No nightmares at all?”

  “No.”

  “No flashbacks of the attack?”

  “No.”

  “And your emotions? Have they been steady? No outbursts? No unexplained tears?”

  “No.”

  His eyes pierced hers in analysis but she held his stare evenly. “So you believe, in your gut, you’re ready to face whatever may come at you out there on the street?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re mentally prepared for someone to come at you with a gun? A knife? Their fists?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how do you think you will react when they do?”

  She eyed him carefully. “Well, it depends on the situation, but I will defer to my training and do what I need to do to ensure everyone’s safety.”

  “And if you can’t? Ensure everyone’s safety?”

  She stared at him. “Then I will do whatever I need to do to stop whoever is threatenin
g everyone’s safety. As is my job.”

  He continued to study her, as though she was a painting and he was trying to ascertain the artist’s meaning behind the work.

  “You’re very stoic, detective,” he said eventually. “I know it comes with wearing a badge, that need to be strong, to be invincible, but it takes a much stronger person to admit weakness. To admit they need help. So if you feel any–”

  “I don’t.”

  He stared at her.

  “I know that’s not what you want to hear,” she said, “but it’s the truth. My… my upbringing… I grew up fast and strength was required. Mental strength–”

  “You’re referring to your sister’s suicide?”

  Salvi paused. An image of Faith hanging from the ceiling fan flashed inside her mind. “Yes,” she said. “Among other things. I left home young, fended for myself. I learned resilience a long time ago. It’s a part of who I am now. I’m not a weepy little girl. If I was, I wouldn’t last a day in this job. You know that. You know it takes a certain type to do what I do. I like my job, Doctor Marr, and I would like to get back out there and do it. I want to keep people safe and take down the ones who threaten their safety.”

  “You faced a serial killer, detective. He almost killed you.”

  “Yes. Almost. But he didn’t. And you’re wrong.”

  “I’m wrong?” his thick brows furrowed. “About what?”

  “I didn’t face a serial killer, technically I faced two. And I am still standing to tell the tale.”

  “Yes, you did,” he nodded. “And one of them is still alive. Edward Moses, Subjugate-52. How does that make you feel?”

  “He’s locked up in the Solme Complex. I feel fine about that.”

  Marr nodded again. She could see his mind ticking over as he scrolled through the data once more.

  “Come on, Doctor,” Salvi smiled playfully. “I know you’re looking for a reason to find something wrong with me, but you won’t, and you know it.”

  He returned his analytical eyes to her.

  “I took down a serial killer,” she said. “There is nothing more cathartic than that.”

  She watched as his mind seemed to circle around some more, before he sighed and held the data pane out to her. “Sign at the bottom and you’re free to go.” She reached for the pane but he quickly pulled it away again. She looked back at him, curious. “But the second you feel any cracks in this stoic façade of yours, detective, you call me. Understand?”

  She contemplated his words for a moment, then nodded. “Of course.”

  It was mid-afternoon when Salvi entered the large, gray-walled and mirror-windowed building that was the home of the San Francisco Police Department’s hub 9 precinct. She gave a nod to those manning the reception desk behind blast-proof glass windows, flicking her eyes to the data screens behind them displaying all the alerts. Though the past few weeks had been busy, especially with her being desk-bound, nothing looked out of the ordinary on the list of current call-outs.

  She swiped the iPort strapped to her wrist over the console on the wall, to obtain the necessary clearance to access the back of house offices. Once her ID and badge number were confirmed, the door unlocked and she passed on through.

  She made her way down the corridor, passing digital screens displaying images of past department heroes, health and safety bulletins, the latest social news that celebrated all the recent hatches, matches and dispatches, and a call out for volunteers to assist in organizing the Christmas party, just several weeks away. When she arrived at the homicide bullpen, she saw it was empty and Ford’s office door was closed. She moved to her desk and shed her jacket, placed her gun in her drawer and studied her cast-free forearm.

  Sadie, the robo-cleaner, swished past on its way back to its containment cupboard, swiveling its head her way.

  “Good afternoon, Detective Brentt,” the computerized voice said.

  “Afternoon, Sadie,” she said, checking the time on her iPort screen as she sat down at her desk and logged into the SFPD hub 9 homicide portal.

  Riverton, the department’s dedicated AI, appeared on her screen, shimmering slightly in its golden androgynous form, pictured from the shoulders up.

  “Good afternoon Detective Brentt,” it said. “I see you’ve been cleared for active duty. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Riverton,” she said, then suddenly wondered whether Riverton had been tasked to watch her and report back to Doctor Marr. “Has Detective Beggs advised if we’re okay to close the Kelto’s Diner case yet?”

  “Yes, detective,” it answered. “I’ve completed the report and it is ready for your review and sign off.”

  “Great,” she said. “Please load it. End request.”

  As the file appeared in her portal on screen, Mitch entered the bullpen. Dressed in his usual black, with his long coat swishing behind him, he carried two coffees her way and held one out to her.

  “Detective Grenville,” she smiled, taking the coffee as the aroma of arabica beans filled the air around her. “What’s this?”

  “It’s celebratory, I hope,” he said, dark green eyes studying hers. “I’m assuming you got good news today?”

  “I did,” she said. “I’m back on active.” She raised her coffee to his and they tapped their cups together.

  “That’s good news,” he said. “And the arm?”

  “Fighting fit and ready to slug someone.”

  A smile curled the corner of his mouth. “You are back.”

  “Yeah. I am,” she said. The silence settled around them, as their eyes remained connected. It didn’t last long though, as Beggs and Caine soon entered.

  “Hey!” Beggs said. “What’s the story? Do I have a partner that can work yet or not?”

  Salvi looked at him. “I have been working these past weeks. You’ve enjoyed making me your desk bitch, remember?”

  Beggs gave a craggy laugh and Caine grinned his Hollywood smile. It was easy to see why the two had been dubbed ‘the mobster and the movie star’ by their fellow detectives.

  “But that ends today,” Salvi told Beggs. “You do your own shit from now on.”

  Now it was Caine’s turn to laugh. He slapped Beggs on the back. “Bet you’re wishing you still had me as a partner, huh?”

  Beggs gave him a distasteful look. “I don’t know which one of you is worse,” he muttered.

  Detective Lieutenant Ford’s door opened and she stood there with her hands on her hips.

  “Grenville, Caine,” she hiked her thumb inside her office.

  Mitch and Caine moved at her order, while Ford turned her eyes to Salvi.

  “You good?”

  “I’m good,” Salvi smiled.

  Ford gave a single nod, then moved back inside her office.

  Salvi turned her eyes to the mugshows on the wall. She scanned each face to see if any new ones had appeared since that morning, but they hadn’t. The same top ten faces displayed, turned about slowly to provide a 360 degree view of their features. She studied them carefully like she did every day, wanting to etch the faces into her memory so that if she passed them on the street she could take them down and put a new face on those mugshows.

  Hernandez and Bronte entered the bullpen then, deep in conversation as they made their way to their desks.

  “There was no B&E and the security footage was clean,” Bronte said with his deep voice. “I think this was a targeted hit.”

  “What case is this?” Salvi asked, curious.

  They looked over at her.

  “Randy’s Retrotech,” Hernandez told her, the gold chain around his neck shining in the office lights. “The store owner in the ‘Mission that took a bullet to the head. The place looks pretty clean and some hacker asshole wiped the footage. It doesn’t look like anything’s missing, but we’re getting the family to take a closer look.”

  “We’ve gotta stop these hackers from killing our evidence,” Beggs said. “Is it just me or does it seem like this is happeni
ng more often?”

  “It ain’t you, old man,” Bronte said, flashing a grin, which looked pearly against his dark skin. “These assholes are getting smarter.” Beggs gave him the finger and Bronte turned his smile to his console. “Riverton, check in with Cyber to see if they can trace who did the hack on the surveillance footage at Randy’s Retrotech. End request.”

  “Yes, Detective Bronte,” Riverton’s voice sounded.

  “Hey, so I take it you got your clearance?” Hernandez asked, walking toward Salvi with his empty coffee cup, smoothing back his jet-black hair.

  “Sure did,” she answered.

  “Alright,” he nodded, and continued out the door, heading for the coffee machine in the break room down the corridor.

  Ford’s office door opened again and Mitch and Caine poured out, both heading straight for the bullpen exit.

  “New case?” she asked them.

  Mitch shook his head. “Just a new lead on the Langford case.”

  “Brentt?” Ford called from her office. “A word?”

  Salvi stood and headed into Ford’s office. The Detective Lieutenant motioned for her to close the door.

  “What is it?” Salvi asked.

  “Sit,” Ford said, motioning to one of the guest chairs at her desk. Salvi obliged.

  “So you got your clearance,” Ford said, studying her. “That’s good. And you’re sure everything else is good? You’re happy to be back on the streets?”

  “Yeah,” Salvi said. “Let me guess, Doctor Marr put some note on my file to keep an eye on me?”

  “No,” Ford said frankly. “I’m asking for myself. If you screw up out there, it comes back on me. So, one more time, are you good?”

  Salvi stared at her boss; broad-shouldered, solid arms, hard blue eyes that had no time for bullshit.

  “Couldn’t be better,” Salvi said firmly.

  “Good. Now, I had a call from Attis Solme,” she said, leaning her elbows on the desk and hulking her shoulders.

  “Solme?” Salvi frowned. “What does he want?”

  “He heard you were back on active. He wants to speak.”

  Salvi frowned further. “I only just got cleared. How’d he hear that so soon?”

  Ford shrugged. “I don’t know. He probably called the front office to see when you were due back. Guess he had faith that you’d make your scheduled return.”