Titans

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘No. Joe commented on it. We both spent a moment to worry that the NYA is a dry state.’

  Mercy shuddered. ‘While not one for excessive drinking, I don’t think I could take that. I could do with a drink right now. I disintegrate things, Nick. I make them not exist right down to the fundamental level.’

  ‘In a fascinating way.’

  ‘Don’t you start.’

  Nick grinned but remained silent for a second or two. ‘The glow from your eyes and skin suggests that you are one of the stronger Titans. It’s not a certainty, but that was the impression I got from what Noah was saying. I believe it’s unlikely that the beam is your only ability. There will be more, and you may discover something wonderful given time. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make those abilities emerge aside from, as has previously happened, manifestation at need.’

  ‘Huh. So, what you’re saying is “jam tomorrow.”’

  ‘Potential jam tomorrow. And it may be truly amazing jam. Physics-shattering jam. It’s the best I can offer.’

  ‘I guess it’ll have to be enough.’

  29th April.

  ‘You’ve been an utter misery for days,’ Sophia said. ‘We are going shopping. Retail therapy, that is the term, right?’

  ‘I’ve never been big on shopping,’ Mercy replied.

  ‘Even for clothes?’

  ‘Especially for clothes. I can never figure out what to buy. My wardrobe contained about ten pairs of jeans, mostly black.’

  ‘I was not aware that you were into exhibitionism.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘No shirts?’

  ‘Well, of course. I mean that I didn’t have a lot of variety.’

  They had arrived on the street in Greenwich Village where the clothing shops were supposed to be, and Sophia looked along it with a frown. ‘Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Variety is not something I’m seeing.’

  There were shops. Some of them even had mannequins in their windows wearing various items of clothing. But the variety did seem to be lacking. Everything looked like it was hard-wearing and largely manufactured from the same kinds of fabric. Mercy was not sure whether she was looking at cotton weaves or something else, but it all looked to be moderately heavy duty and workmanlike. There were things you could describe as jeans, though maybe not made of denim.

  ‘Well,’ Sophia said, ‘it is what it is. Let’s see if we can find something to wear. Underwear, I think, should be a priority.’

  ‘Lead on. I’ll trail behind like the boyfriend you drag out to shop for dresses.’

  ‘Well, try to look like a boyfriend dragged out to look for sexy dresses.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ~~~

  Ninety minutes later, they had had some success. They both had a few pairs of panties, which was a major upgrade. Someone was growing flax and turning it into linen. It was not exactly the best underwear in the world, but it was better than the few items they had available. They were going to be stuck with the bras they had arrived in for a while; no one had anything in stock right now, though everyone claimed they would have after the next trader convoy came into town.

  Toward the end of the street, Mercy stopped outside one shop with a mannequin in the window, looking up at it with interest. The featured outfit consisted of leather slacks – leather was quite a prominent material; someone was going out hunting, as best they could tell – and a simple linen shirt which did not quite meet the waistband of the slacks. Some sort of harness had been placed over the shirt, and the shirt itself was closed by a linen thong rather than buttons. Over it all was a coat made of a woollen material with leather shoulder patches and trim and an interesting brocade-like pattern of darker grey around the bottom of the tails.

  ‘Now that,’ Mercy said, ‘I like.’

  ‘I think it would suit you,’ Sophia said quickly. ‘Let’s go in and see if it fits.’

  The inside of the shop looked like any other dress shop from before the Wave, except with fewer items. There were, in fact, no racks or shelves. Mannequins had been put up with a few other outfits on them. More slacks and tops, a couple of linen dresses. There was a pile of shoe boxes in one corner with a pair of serviceable army boots on top, presumably to indicate the contents of the boxes.

  There was also a counter with a girl sitting behind it. She was sewing as she waited for customers. Mercy considered it a good sign that the shop assistant seemed to help manufacture the clothes. The girl was beautiful. Her skin was smooth and dark. Her body appeared to be fit, slim, and equipped with quite a substantial bust. She had dark eyes and a thick mass of black hair cut short but refusing to lie down so that it formed a sort of crown atop her head. There was a slight roundness about her features which suggested youth. Her nose was pert and quite petite; her lips were full and tended toward pouting. This was a very attractive girl in a thin, white tank top and a skirt which maybe covered her behind if she was careful getting off her stool.

  ‘Welcome to my shop,’ the girl said, smiling at her potential customers. Well, not the shop assistant then. ‘I’m Zuri. Can I help, or are you just browsing?’

  ‘I’m browsing,’ Sophia said.

  ‘I’ll take the help,’ Mercy continued. ‘The outfit in the window. Could I try–’

  ‘That won’t fit you,’ Zuri said. ‘You’re too tall for that set. Luckily for you, I made the same outfit in a longer leg. Just give me a minute.’ Hopping off her stool, she turned and vanished through a curtain at the back.

  ‘That is a very pretty girl,’ Sophia said.

  ‘Certainly is. Seems young to be running this place.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Zuri re-emerged carrying a box. ‘I’m nineteen,’ she said. ‘Twenty in a few months. I was too young when I started running this place, but I’ve grown into it.’

  ‘Sorry, I–’ Mercy began.

  ‘No need to be sorry. I took over when my grandmother died. In this world, you make do with the hand you’re dealt. Now, this is the set and I think I made it just right for you, but I can make adjustments if needed. You can try it on in the storeroom.’ The seamstress frowned at Mercy. ‘I must say, that’s not an outfit I’ve seen before. Is that your name? Garner.’

  Mercy glanced down at the name printed over her left breast. ‘Yeah, but you can call me Mercy.’ Picking up the box, she went through behind the counter as Zuri directed. She had only got as far as sloughing the upper part of her jumpsuit to the waist when Sophia followed her into the storeroom holding a linen dress. ‘That looks nice,’ Mercy commented, ‘if a bit thin.’

  ‘Well, it’s warm,’ Sophia replied as she began to strip. ‘It doesn’t seem that the climate has reverted much. Given the reduction in population and the lack of fossil fuels, I was hoping…’

  Mercy shrugged. ‘Some climatologists did think we’d passed a tipping point. I don’t suppose there are any of them left to study what’s happening. And most of the sensors will be gone. Maybe we could task Theia with an infrared survey. It might give an indication of any changes.’

  ‘Well, she’s in a fairly high orbit and there’s still fuel for corrections. If we’re lucky, she could be up there and functioning for around fifty years.’

  ‘Yeah. May as well make use of her. I’ll take a trip to Pallas later and set things up. How does this look?’ Mercy had the slacks and shirt on by this point. She posed a little for Sophia, feeling self-conscious.

  ‘I think it’ll look better with the straps and coat, and you should see if any of those boots fit. But you look good. I didn’t see you in an outfit like that, but it suits you.’

  ‘What kind of outfit did you see me in?’

  A buzzer sounded, presumably indicating that a customer had entered the shop. From the front, Zuri could be heard through the curtain. ‘Oh, Mister De Santis. Now isn’t really a convenient time. I have customers in.’

  ‘Well,’ Sophia said, ‘you said you had a lot of jeans. I figure–’

&
nbsp; A male voice came through the curtain. ‘You know how this works, Zuri. You pay up when we say or there are consequences.’

  ‘Yes, but–’ Zuri began.

  ‘And you know how we like to get paid. Get rid of the customers.’

  Sophia glanced at Mercy. Mercy started for the curtain.

  ‘Be reasonable, Mister De Santis. They’ll only be another–’

  ‘I am being reasonable. Now–’

  ‘How about you leave,’ Mercy said as she pushed through into the shop, ‘like the lady asked.’ She took in the man, De Santis, who was threatening Zuri and decided she knew which organisation he worked for.

  He was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscled. His hair was well groomed and short, but that still did not take away from a heavy-set face which gave off a strong impression of thug. ‘How about you mind your own– Oh shit!’

  Mercy was not initially sure why the man recoiled from her, but he backed quickly away, bumping into a mannequin. Then it occurred to her that she was angry… ‘Careful,’ Mercy said. ‘If you damage anything, it’s you who’ll be paying for it.’

  De Santis turned, grabbed the mannequin, and righted it carefully. Then he headed for the door as fast as he could manage at a walk. The buzzer sounded once again, and he was gone.

  ‘He’s going to come back,’ Zuri said.

  ‘Yeah… Sorry about that. We’ve had a run-in with his type before and I didn’t want to let him… What kind of extortion does the Organisation get from the shops here anyway?’

  Zuri blushed. ‘We all barter. In my case, they extort a particular personal service. Uh, anyway, I didn’t know you were a Titan. Sorry.’

  ‘What’s to be sorry about? I wasn’t exactly flashing it around.’ Even if Faith had said she would get better deals that way. ‘How could you know?’

  ‘Because… Uh, that’s a valid point. I’m used to Titans making themselves known. Are you new in town?’

  ‘Did you hear about the spaceship that landed in the Battery on Wednesday?’

  ‘Everyone heard about that. You were on it? Wow. That explains the jumpsuit.’ Zuri’s blush deepened. ‘That looks really good on you. Put the rest on and we’ll talk deals. I’m inclined to make a good one for you.’

  ‘I, uh, don’t want anything special for being a Titan.’

  ‘Huh. You really are new here. How about something special for scaring De Santis off?’

  Mercy shook her head. ‘Like you said, he’ll be back. I just bought you some time. We’ll haggle.’

  ‘Okay. I can do haggling.’

  ~~~

  ‘She was more than happy with the meal packs,’ Sophia said as they walked back to what was, they supposed, their new home.

  ‘I still think she accepted less than she should have,’ Mercy replied.

  ‘Maybe. It’s not like we have much idea what things are worth in a barter system.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘And I think she was a little infatuated.’

  Mercy laughed. ‘Well, you are a–’

  ‘No! With you.’

  ‘You think?’ Mercy felt her face heating and Sophia did not help matters.

  ‘Your eyes are lighting up again. You put on quite the show for that thug.’

  ‘I suppose so, given he ran like a scared rabbit. He’ll go back. He may take it out on Zuri too.’

  ‘Hm. Someone needs to do something about that lot.’

  Mercy shrugged. ‘That’s up to Faith’s security people. Not much we can do about it aside from keeping them off you.’

  ‘Yes. I suppose you’re right…’

  ~~~

  On the whole, the shopping trip’s results were well received by the men. ‘Though, I’m not sure about the boots,’ Joe said, pointing at Sophia’s feet.

  ‘I may get some heels, if I can find some that are suitable,’ she replied. ‘They are being made, but I wasn’t sure of the quality. Frankly, army boots are far more practical with the state of the roads and sidewalks, so I can understand why few people are making them.’

  ‘I’m surprised they’re making boots like that,’ Nick said. ‘The soles are synthetic.’

  ‘They’re scrounged,’ Mercy told him. ‘They call them traders, but it seems like they’re more like scavengers. They do carry goods between enclaves, but they also spend a lot of time hunting out treasure in the old cities.’ She pointed at her own feet. ‘These, according to Zuri and the trader who sold her them, came from an army surplus store on the outskirts of Chicago. Word is it’s getting harder and harder to find major caches like that.’

  ‘I’m just glad of the beer,’ Joe said, ‘though Sophia in a vaguely transparent dress is a nice addition.’

  The dress in question was quite thin, especially around the skirt. It was quite formal, in a way. It looked like the kind of thing someone might wear to an office in summer, if the dress code was a little lax. It had lapels and short, puffy sleeves. There was a short ruffle around the waist and hips and a flouncy sort of skirt. It did not go especially well with army boots. ‘Frenchmen are clearly easy to please,’ Sophia said.

  ‘Well, Mercy looks good in her ensemble too. It’s not what I would have expected. You look… badass and feminine, boss.’

  ‘I’m the boss now?’ Mercy asked. ‘Anyway, thank you, I think. The harness is good for hanging my pistol from, and the coat hides it.’ The thong Zuri had supplied and Mercy was using to hang her pistol under her armpit did not exactly make for fast draws, but it served a purpose. It would do.

  ‘I’m a little surprised the government here condones alcohol production,’ Nick said, shifting the conversation back to his track.

  ‘There are, apparently, two solid reasons for it,’ Mercy said. ‘I asked the shopkeeper when we bought the bottles. The main one is fuel. They don’t have too many vehicles running on pure ethanol, but they do have diesel engines converted to run on vegetable oil, and you need ethanol to fuel a heater. Otherwise, the stuff turns into sludge and clogs the engine. Or so I’m told. So, they make alcohol to fuel various things, and they allow some of it to be sold for drinking because it’s good for morale. Most people can’t afford to drink to excess, so it works out okay.’

  ‘So, these were expensive?’

  ‘Yes, but we’re rich. Those meal packs we’ve been bitching about for months on Theia are highly valued here. Zuri took two for both of our outfits, though I think she wasn’t doing her best bargaining. We got a crate of beer for one pack and we have credit with that shop for more.’

  ‘I suppose I should make the time to get some clothes for myself.’

  ‘Yes,’ Joe said. ‘I’m starting to think this suit may be growing onto me.’

  ‘It is,’ Sophia told him, ‘but we didn’t want to say anything.’

  ~~~

  There was little to do in the evening in a world without broadcast television never mind streaming services. They were in bed by ten p.m., but Mercy lay awake for some time after the lights were turned off.

  The whole business with the disintegration beam was still bothering her. She figured it should not. She had been a marine pilot. She had flown one of the most expensive killing machines in the world on a regular basis. At the touch of a button, she had had the capability to kill dozens of people at once. But she had never had to look at them while she did it, and she had moved into the space programme rather than sticking with life as a combat pilot. It was not like she was averse to killing, but if killing was all she could do… It was not what she wanted from life.

  A sound brought her eyes open. Had that been a footfall in the lounge? Reaching out, she put her hand on her pistol, which she had put beside her sleeping bag before the lights went out, and sat up. Investigate, or stay where she was?

  The decision was made for her as the door crashed open and a flashlight was shone in her eyes. Not a flashlight, a tactical light! The roar of a shotgun was loud in the confined space of the bedroom. Mercy’s ears started ringing immediately, but that was entirely
ignored at the sight of a 12-gauge shotgun slug slowing to a stop two inches from her chest and then dropping to land in her lap. Apparently, that was as much a surprise to the shooter as it was to her. He said ‘Fuck!’ and pulled his weapon to his shoulder to fire again.

  Two rounds blasted out. One got a bit closer before stopping in its tracks; the second blew a hole in the wall behind Mercy, and she was not going to let him try again. She raised her pistol and fired off three rounds. All three emerged from the barrel as glowing pulses of blue light which hit the gunman in the chest. He let out a scream and fell backward out of the doorway.

  Mercy pushed out of her sleeping bag and got to her feet. There were two more of them, and she was wondering how she knew that when she became aware that she was aware of just about everything within around a hundred yards of her. The image in her head lacked detail, but she could make out the shapes of walls, floors, ceilings, people, weapons…

  ‘What’s happening?’ Sophia shouted. It was still a muffled sound over the ringing in Mercy’s ears.

  ‘Not sure,’ Mercy replied, ‘but there are more of them in the lounge. Stay there.’ She started for the door and then stopped. The others had positioned themselves to either side of the bedroom door. They would attack from both sides as soon as she came through. Okay, so she had this thing where the bullets stopped before hitting her, but could she rely on it? If she could get behind them… But that was impossible, right? She could not just teleport to the other end of the apartment.

  No sooner thought than done. She found herself on the other side of the lounge, looking across at the gunmen who had not noticed she was there yet in the darkness of the apartment. Time slowed as she raised her pistol to fire. Time literally slowed down around her. This was not the adrenaline-fuelled feeling she had experienced before where your perceptions seemed to accelerate. Either time had slowed around her, or her own time had speeded up. She took aim at the right-hand thug’s head and squeezed off a round. Again, the bullet emerged as a pulse of light which hit its target, ploughing through the man’s skull.

  She saw the instant when the third of the trio realised what was happening and began to turn toward her, but he seemed to be moving in slow motion and she took her time, aiming at firing right where his heart should be. He went down. Mercy watched the pulse of energy crossing the space to his chest and tearing through his skin. She watched him dropping his shotgun and reaching up to clutch his chest over the cauterised wound. She watched him crumple onto the carpet, his expression of agony captured in an instant of light from his bouncing tactical light.