by C. G. Hatton
I ducked low behind a table, dragging Genie down with me.
My hand, the one in the cast that I had pressed to my ribs, was wet. I didn’t want to look at it.
“Felix,” Genie hissed in my ear, “what the hell are we doing? My mother just got shot. We…”
The door behind us banged open. I moved fast, not relinquishing my grip on her hand, keeping in cover and heading for a side door that led into darkness, hoping it was a cellar and not a freaking cupboard. I stumbled and half fell down steep steps, only Genie grabbing my shoulder keeping us both upright, making it to the bottom and turning into a long narrow cellar lined with racks, faint and flickering lantern light illuminating rows and rows of bottles. Shouts were echoing down from the bar, police, other raised voices protesting, bangs and the crash of breaking glass. It wouldn’t take them long to realise where we’d gone but there was another door, locked with the kind of panel I could hack in seconds with a Senson. I leaned in close and pulled off the cover, running the kind of manual override I used to pull in the garrison, heart pounding and fingers slick with blood. If I screwed this up, we’d be sitting there, wide open…
It clicked. I eased the cover back onto the panel, hoping to hell no one would notice the bloody fingerprints, and pushed her through, struggling to lock it again from the other side and holding my breath until it gave a soft click.
Genie was staring at me like she wanted to say something. I was glad she didn’t. I had no idea what was going on. And the chances that McIntyre was here…?
I shrugged out of my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, and we waited there in the semi-darkness of a wine cellar lit by pinprick spotlights embedded in the ceiling, in a cool and eerie quiet with only distant sounds echoing through to us.
When I was fairly sure they’d gone, I whispered in her ear, “Your mother’s bodyguard… He’s the one who killed our driver and shot her. Didn’t you see it?”
She twisted round to look at me. “What? No. No, it can’t be…”
She looked horrified suddenly and reached a hand towards my chest, stopping just shy of touching me. “Fe, you’re bleeding…”
I made the mistake of glancing down. It looked worse than it was, a dark wet stain soaking my white dress shirt.
“It’s just a graze.” I’d been grazed by a bullet before. I knew what that felt like. And I’d been outright shot before. I knew this wasn’t that bad, as much as it was burning.
“Felix…?” Genie dropped her hand to mine, resting there gently as if she was scared to touch me. “What are we going to do?”
I was trying to think. I couldn’t get through to Sienna or Jensonn on the Senson. I knew my implant wasn’t working but I’d seen Jensonn’s vehicle burning. I had no idea if they were even still alive. I’d been using the implant for two years. Instant communication across phenomenal distances, tight wire, private, totally secure, just by thinking who you wanted to contact and what you wanted to send. Not having it and needing so desperately to be in touch was making my stomach cold.
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “We can’t go back. We don’t know who else is on their payroll. We need to lie low. Figure this out.”
There were guild assets in the undercity, deep cover agents. If we could reach them, they could contact my extraction team. A swirl of dizzy nausea made me sway as I tried to breathe through a panic. It was the first time since Redemption that I’d needed an extraction. A real, messed up in the field, code red, get me out of here extraction.
My heart was pounding in my throat.
I took hold of Genie’s hand, too aware that the sticky heat on my fingers was blood. “Someone just paid half your security detail to ambush us,” I said. “I’m not going to let them get hold of you.”
The look she gave me was hard. I could see how UM had held their grip on Wintran politics for so long.
“So what do we do?”
I bit my lip, still pressing one hand against the searing pain in my ribs. Guild deep covers are valuable. Not to be messed with. We’d had that well and truly ingrained into us before we’d been let loose from the Alsatia. There was something legendary about the deep covers that made me baulk at the idea of running to one now. But I didn’t know what else to do.
Genie was looking at me as if I had all the answers.
“We go down,” I said. “There’ll be a way.” All these cellars were interconnected, hidden entrances down to the levels below scattered throughout the city.
She didn’t ask me how I knew and she didn’t argue.
We managed to slip down to the undercity before the furore topside closed all the main routes. The lights of the central thoroughfare that cut through the mid level of the sub-Wintran sprawl were bright. Folks down there didn’t work to night and day. We stayed in the shadows of an overhead gantry and I kept Genie behind me as I edged forward to watch uniformed troops spill down and take over the main strip, flash store fronts, huge screens scrolling with a mix of music vids and live news feeds, music blaring from doorways as the militia moved through. The emergency services and law enforcement officials were moving fast, loud and officious, mobilising en masse to set up checkpoints and barriers, down in a domain they usually left well alone.
The newsfeed was reporting a terrorist attack on the eve of the trade conference, multiple casualties, several targets throughout the city bombed simultaneously. Video footage was blurred, shaky, a few overhead drone cameras that were zooming in for a close up of shocked crowds. No casualties were named and there was no mention that we were missing. I could feel Genie tensing behind me as the words were broadcast, cut by ad breaks with a promise to bring updates as they happened.
I was leaning heavily against the stanchion I was standing behind. Even though the arm brace was pumping pain meds into me, I could feel them wearing off, an edge of ragged pain flaring through the burning heat in my chest. It was getting harder to breathe. I needed to find somewhere to hole up before I crashed but not here, not the way they were closing the place down. The only plan I could come up with was to drop further down, into the powerplant beneath the undercity and figure out a way to either contact Sienna or make contact with a guild deep cover somehow.
I blinked as there was a sudden outcry, harsh voices protesting, as the militia raided a rowdy drinking establishment across the stretch from us, knocking over seats and tables out front, marching punters and staff out of the door, not being overly gentle in searching and questioning them. They stopped short of pushing them into stress positions against the wall, but flashes of Kheris burned behind my eyes as I watched the protests turn violent and the militia soldiers respond by shoving weapons into people’s faces, yells and screams in realtime competing with the noise and drama being replayed full volume on the vidscreens. I caught a glimpse of a limo exploding, Mrs K falling to the ground…
Someone had been filming us.
The armed troops started to set up a cordon and spread out, searching.
We couldn’t stay there. I backed away, nudging Genie behind me, and turning to bundle her into the shadows.
The undercity beneath Winter is a rabbit warren of sectors… Christ, the Bhenykhn probably don’t know half of what’s down there… all linked, a mass of ad hoc life support conduits and logistics tubes snaking between each sector, unsanctioned, unregulated tech that gave us the perfect place to crawl away into.
Genie didn’t say a word as she followed me, sometimes holding my hand, sometimes having to wait for me to help her through. I wasn’t doing well. Having one pretty much useless arm wasn’t helping and I was getting light-headed, the burning pain in my chest becoming all consuming. I had no idea if it was still bleeding. I’d given up caring. I had to bust through a few manual locks, using the lockpick from my wristband, all too aware that each time she was watching closely and storing the fact for later.
After what felt like forever, we fell more than climbed into a maintenance area that looked like it hadn’t seen a soul in eons. I staggere
d out, bumped into a table and grabbed an abandoned terminal, letting myself drop, pretty much fall to my knees, crawling in to settle my back against the wall. Genie eased her way in next to me and snuggled up, cautious, as if she still didn’t dare touch me.
The adrenaline that had been keeping me going drained as if someone had flicked a switch. I couldn’t help letting my arm fall, the terminal dropping to my side.
“Fe…?”
Her voice was soft and I almost let my eyes close.
I could feel her opening my jacket and pressing something soft against my ribs.
“This, Felix Dennison…” she said with enough clarity to make me blink open my eyes, “is not a graze.”
There was something about the way she spoke that made everything okay. Whatever was happening.
I couldn’t help smiling. “I know.”
She looked at me with a set to her jaw and a light in her eyes that, even in that dimly lit space, was hypnotising. She leaned close and murmured, “What are we doing, Felix?”
I closed my hand around the terminal.
There was a way out. I knew there was a way out of this.
I let her press her nose to mine.
I could have drowned in that moment, in that close, intimate…
“I need to contact my…” Holy shit, I almost said ET.
I caught myself, adrenaline flaring.
She moved back an inch. “Your what?”
Shit, shit.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t screw this up. You never gave away the guild. Not ever. We didn’t exist. It was a cover. It was fake. It was all fake.
This was why they didn’t trust me.
This was why I was screwing up the Paninskis.
Genie wrapped her arms around me. “Fe, you’re shivering.”
I was. I tried to breathe through it. I wanted to tell her everything.
The lump in my throat was threatening to close me down.
I glanced aside. The terminal in my hand was inert.
It would just take a stroke to reactivate it.
I didn’t know if I wanted to.
“Bodyguards,” I forced myself to say. “Sienna… she’ll come get us.”
And that made it okay.
Genie reached her hand to my cheek, gentle, eyes piercing into mine, and she nodded.
I breathed.
I was crap at all this.
You want to know how I made it to the top of the guild standings… how I got that amulet…
I focused. Deep. Powered up the terminal.
And hit a block that threw me straight out.
I blinked.
Genie was still there. Nose to nose.
“I trust you,” she murmured.
And that was all that mattered.
In the whole galaxy.
The whole universe.
I could do this. I wiped my hand on my leg and reached for the terminal again, determined to make it work. This time I slipped past the block and made it to the general comms channels, hacking through layers of encryption to get to the militia command structure. They’d shut down the entire undercity, enforced curfew, search teams sweeping through sector by sector hunting for the terrorists. There were arrest stats, casualty figures. Five dead. Dozens injured.
As I dug deeper, one name caught my eye and I paused, looking up at Genie. She squeezed my arm as she read it. Her mother was mentioned in a report as alive but in hospital, serious condition but expected to survive, that was something. There were no other names, and I was about to pull back when I caught an open comm, public broadcast…
A pulse of adrenaline made me sit up, hacking into a channel as fast as I could to find a way to send a tight wire encrypted beacon to Sienna, if she was there to hear it. I managed to send something, ran a quick check to pinpoint the current status and locations of the search and detain crews, and obliterated any evidence I’d been in there, heart racing.
I dropped the board and shifted my weight, bracing myself to move and muttering, “We have to go.”
Genie helped me up but pulled me back. “Felix, what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”
We didn’t have time to mess around but she needed to know.
“They’ve put out a reward for our safe return.” The word ‘safe’ stuck in my throat. “Fifty thousand. Each.”
First time I’d ever had a price on my head. And I was damned sure with McIntyre out there that ‘safe’ meant the exact opposite.
Chapter 18
I could see her frowning.
“Why is that so bad? My parents will want me back.”
I dragged her into a walk, whispering close, “Your own security staff were instructed to kill your mother and take you, Genie. A price on our heads means every sucker down here will be looking for us.”
I didn’t mention McIntyre or the disturbing thought that was making my stomach cold, that the kid they’d referred to could be me. That I could be the cause of all this. A terrorist attack hits the heart of Winter the week I turn up? Like I said, the guild does not believe in coincidence.
She let me push her ahead of me but whispered back, harsh, “We can’t run forever. Fe, you need medical attention.”
“We need to find Sienna.”
She didn’t argue.
We made it down another two levels before we started to hear deep rumblings reverberating through the substructure.
Genie froze, gripping my hand. “Is that…?”
They weren’t explosions. I know what underground blasts feel like and these didn’t have that knock-on cascade of devastation that’s triggered by explosives. These were distinct single booms, all around, one after the other.
“No,” I muttered, starting to run. “They’re closing blast doors.”
If they were evacuating the maintenance ways and sealing every door, it would just be a matter of time before the search parties would find us. I had kit I could use that would negate my life signs but that wouldn’t hide Genie. If we stayed where we were, we’d stand out on any scans. If we went into the undercity, we’d stand out in the clothes we were wearing.
There was no way out.
The gantry beneath our feet rumbled as a barrier behind us crashed closed. There was another up ahead, warning lights starting to flash as we got closer. We weren’t going to make it.
I slowed and stood there, chest heaving, watching as the barrier ahead sealed off that route.
Genie leaned close, her arm around my waist. “Felix…?”
There had to be another way.
“Find a way down,” I managed to breathe.
She let up and for a second I wavered there, about to fall on my face, but she came back and grabbed my arm.
“Suck it up, Dennison,” she hissed into my ear and dragged me forwards.
She would have made one hell of an extraction agent.
We staggered forwards until she said, “Here. Come on, Felix, don’t do this to me.” She had the exact same sharp, disparaging tone as her mother.
There was a ladder.
I closed my eyes. There was no way I could manage a ladder.
She shoved me in front of her and backed away, dragging me with her as she started to climb down, keeping hold of me every step of the way, as I managed to put one foot down and then another, having to lean my head against the ladder every now and then just trying to breathe.
When we reached the bottom, I half fell as her support vanished for a second, but she caught me and steadied me, leaning in close and murmuring, “What now, Fe? Help me here.”
“Down,” I breathed. I had stars flashing behind my eyes. “Just keep going down.”
Past that I had no plan.
I was trusting that Sienna would get my message and find us before McIntyre did.
Genie hugged me close, and I might have imagined it, but I’m sure she muttered, “Only you, Fe, only for you…”
I could only walk past that point, vision down to a narrow tunnel, a pounding darkness closi
ng in. There have been times out on tabs where I’ve been screwed, seriously, badly screwed, but it was only ever me at stake. That night beneath Winter… I had no idea if they were after me or Genie, but someone was prepared to pay to get their hands on us. And as much as I didn’t care about me, I did care about her. As much as I might have denied it. Telling myself she was a mark, that it was just a tab… that I was just a thief…
She held onto me, her arm around me, keeping me up and walking.
I wanted to tell her the truth.
Some insane part of my brain wanted to pull her back, tell her to stop and tell her everything.
Even though I had a horrible feeling that a public reward of fifty thousand meant a helluva lot more in the murky streets down here. Never mind that McIntyre was involved.
Dark shadows of Redemption and the drug-addled craziness of the training grounds beyond dragged at my senses as I tried desperately to stay where I was.
Me and Hil… we’d had two years at the guild since Redemption. Two years of training, playing in the Maze, running tabs, playing poker… don’t get me wrong, it hadn’t been easy. The other field-ops ribbed us relentlessly, the grunts laughed at us when they weren’t beating the crap out of us in combat training, everyone expected us to crash and burn and get thrown out, but we didn’t. We toughed it out. I know that Mendhel believed in us. And NG believed in us. Even if we didn’t believe in ourselves at times.
But they gave us food, gave us clothes, cutting edge tech, and we wanted for nothing.
Encountering that ledger at Westinghouse…
It was as if my past had caught up with me.
I didn’t belong at the guild. I was a screw-up kid who didn’t belong anywhere. Who shouldn’t have been born. The night of the bombings… the night of Rainfall… when the Earth Empire had dropped artillery shells on the heart of the resistance… it was as if that was my fault for having been born. As if, they knew, somehow, and that was what had given my family away…