Reintegration

by Eden S. French

  Kade grimaced and steadied himself. “Open Hand is organized and sympathetic. They’ll shelter you while we figure out what to do next. And you can finally clue me in on what’s happening here.”

  There was no way Mineko could risk going somewhere as remote and forbidden as Urban District Four. Much as it hurt to acknowledge it, her adventure was over. “Callie, can you let me off near the University?”

  The van jerked to a sudden halt, and Callie twisted in her seat. “You aren’t coming with us?”

  For all that this hurt, Mineko managed to keep her voice level. “It’s time for me to go home. I’ve done all I can on the outside.”

  “You serious?” Zeke clutched her sleeve. “Your folks will wipe you.”

  “I’m sorry to say it, but she’s right,” said Kade. “Every Codist agency would hunt for her if she left. Lexi’s got enough heat as it is.”

  “So? Nobody says they have to hide together.” Callie thumped Lexi on the shoulder. “Lexi, for Christ’s sake, say something. Tell her to stay.”

  Lexi gave Mineko a thoughtful look. “You sure about this, Minnie?”

  “I don’t have any choice. The enclaves are my home.”

  “I’m not doing it,” said Callie, her voice tight with fury. “I’m not driving you there. You’ll be safer with us. We’ll look after you.”

  “She already made up her mind,” said Lexi. “Take her back.”

  “They’ll fucking wipe her!”

  Mineko met Callie’s stricken gaze. “I have to take the risk. I’m grateful for your support, but I’m sorry. This is as far as I go.”

  Callie bowed her head, took a breath and set the van in motion again. “If you change your mind, say so.”

  The journey resumed in silence. Callie brooded over the wheel, Zeke rocked on his heels, Kade seemed lost in thought, and Lexi slouched against the passenger window with her cheek cupped in her hand. Mineko shut her eyes and focused on the subtle motions of the vehicle. Humming, turning, shaking…

  The van gave a final jolt before settling.

  “We’re just a street away,” said Callie in a monotone. “So I guess this is it.”

  “Thank you.” Mineko rose and waited for Kade to open the van doors. Outside was a narrow lane, unoccupied. The high wall of the University was visible at its end.

  They assembled in the street, except for Kade. He remained standing inside the van’s open rear doors, his expression inscrutable.

  “Take care.” Zeke patted Mineko on the back. “You did good.”

  “Yeah, she did.” Callie gazed at Mineko, a hint of moisture in her eyes, before looking away. “Shit, Min.”

  “I’m sorry.” It felt as if there were a hand around Mineko’s throat and a boot on her rib cage. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “Is there any chance we’ll see each other again?”

  “I wish we could. But I can’t see how it’s possible.”

  “Well, just in case…” Callie took the tiny key from her pocket. “Keep it wound, okay?”

  “Careful with that,” said Lexi as the key exchanged hands. “It’s the key to her heart.”

  Her round cheeks crimson, Callie scowled at Lexi. “Shut up.”

  Mineko contemplated each face in turn. Zeke appeared miserable, his glittering eyebrows scrunched together. Lexi had regained her ironic smile. Kade still betrayed no emotion. And Callie—she was looking at Mineko with such intensity, such palpable regret, that the pressure on Mineko’s throat and chest became unbearable.

  “Maintain a level head in there,” Kade said. “If suspicion falls on you, keep denying. In a society like yours, truth is subordinate to power. You have powerful parents and that makes you powerful too. Never forget it.”

  “What he said.” Lexi rested a hand on Mineko’s shoulder. Her smile eased into something more affectionate than teasing, and an unexpected warmth flooded Mineko’s face and chest. “I owe you, Minnie-Min. See you around.”

  Every second she lingered would only make it more painful. “Goodbye.” Mineko turned and hurried down the sidewalk. No point looking back. It would only intensify the storm of dismay and apprehension building inside her.

  Today’s crimes were considerable. She had assaulted her father’s agents, handled a firearm, spent a day out of boundaries and revealed confidential information. There was only one possible outcome if she were caught. Though her parents loved her, the Code was clear. And unmerciful.

  CHAPTER 5

  Lexi ranked Urban District Four as one of the most depressing districts in the city, a neighborhood of ruined residential blocks, towers reduced to defiant steel bones and hollowed-out warehouses fronting silent streets. Not a single decent nightclub anywhere to be found.

  Amid the district’s copious graffiti appeared a recurring symbol, an open palm sprayed in vivid purple, which always came accompanied by an arrow. Directions to the Open Hand soup kitchen.

  Callie stopped the van. The street ahead was blocked by people waiting outside a large warehouse. A steady procession shuffled into an open door and exited by another, the ones escaping looking less miserable than the others. Most of the crowd wore little more than street grime, but quite a few were well-dressed. Misfortune spared nobody, and even the richest could find themselves ruined overnight. It was simply too easy to lose it all.

  “Well, here we are,” said Callie. “What now?”

  “I’ll call them.” Kade prodded his phone. “Hey. It’s Kade. Yes, I’ve heard already. I have Lexi Vale with me and some other friends. We’re in a van out on the street… Yes, I know the one. We’ll be there in a minute.” He returned the phone to his pocket. “There’s a garage around the back of the warehouse. They’re waiting to let us in.”

  Callie turned the van, and they cruised into a narrow alley that cut behind the warehouse. They drove until they reached a garage door rattling upward.

  Callie directed the van through the door and down the ramp, and they plunged into a large, well-lit underground garage. “Check out the wheels,” said Callie, perking up. “Looks like heaven.”

  Lexi had never seen so many intact vehicles in once place: trucks, vans, jeeps, even a trio of jet-black motorcycles, their sleek carapaces gleaming beneath the overhead lamps. A staircase in one corner ascended to the first floor of the warehouse—assuming, of course, that the building obeyed the usual laws of time and space.

  As Lexi undid her seatbelt, two people marched into the garage. A man and a woman. They wore black leather trench coats buttoned to the collar, complementing their military bearing.

  “Be nice to those two,” said Kade with wry self-awareness. “They’re my friends.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Lexi said, no less droll. “I’ll try not to hold it against them.”

  The group exited the van. “Good afternoon, comrades,” the man said. A mop of ginger hair flourished on his gaunt, freckled head, and his lips formed a skewed grin. “You must be Alexis Vale.”

  Now there was a name that didn’t see a lot of mileage. “It’s Lexi. Nobody calls me Alexis.”

  “But I rather like the name Alexis. It has a regality to it, don’t you think?” The man looked her up and down, and his smile widened. “Let me say two words to you: Project Sky.”

  Pompous bastard. “Here’s two more for you: so what?”

  “I’m correct though, aren’t I? That’s your augmentation.”

  “Before you start prying, why not introduce yourself? You don’t look like you’re here to give me soup and a blanket.”

  “Rest assured, we’re caretakers of the poor. But charity comes from a heart of indignation. I’m Nikolas, and this is Bunker One. Above, the poor are fed and treated. Below, plans are made to fight for their futures.”

  Lexi shifted her attention to the woman, a stern blonde with a high forehead, downturned lips, tanned skin, severe blue-green eyes and, in complete contrast with her other features, an adorable button nose. “Who’s your friend?”

  “My name
’s Amity.” Amity spoke with clipped impatience. “I’m second-in-command here. I hope you appreciate that secrecy is important to us.”

  “So I won’t be allowed to invite girls over?”

  “Be quiet for once,” said Callie. “This is serious.”

  “Ah!” Nikolas directed his enormous grin toward Callie. “Calandre Roux, the smuggling prodigy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. And you…” he pointed at Zeke “…are unknown to me. What’s your profession, sir?”

  “Uh.” Zeke shifted from foot to foot. “I’m a surgeon.”

  “He’s a body modder and tattooist,” said Kade. “Surgeon is pushing it.”

  “Hey, I do more than mods, jackoff. I do some pretty fucking delicate work. I mean, I put that aug right in Lexi’s brain.” Zeke tapped his skull for emphasis, though Lexi was yet to be convinced an actual brain was inside. “That’s brain surgery, motherfucker. You think you can just walk into any tattoo parlor and get that shit done?”

  Nikolas chuckled. “Well, I’m convinced. A doctor you are, and your surgical talents will certainly be useful. We’ll protect you from the Codists, and in return, you may use your talents to treat the sick. What do you say?”

  “Not much of a choice.” Zeke scratched behind one of his piercing-laden ears. “Yeah, sure. Heal the sick. I’ll be a regular angel of mercy, just watch.”

  “Very good.” Nikolas rubbed his long, knobbly hands—strangler’s hands. Of course, Lexi was too enlightened to judge someone just for having big, creepy strangler’s hands. “Alexis, you are in grave danger. You must allow us to provide you refuge.”

  A little too pushy for Lexi’s tastes. “Must? Don’t I have a say in this?”

  “Why would you say no?” said Amity, her eyes narrowing. “You’re just a common drug dealer. There’s nothing you can do against the Codists.”

  “I’m not a drug dealer. I’m a broker. Totally different things. Who told you I was a dealer?” Lexi adopted an exaggeratedly outraged stance, both hands on her hips. “Was it Kade? I bet it was Kade. I’ll kick his ass—”

  “I apologize,” said Nikolas. “My lieutenant has a habit for bluntness, even when her facts are not yet in order.” Amity’s scowl deepened. “And the inestimable Ms. Roux, would you accept our assistance as well?”

  Callie gave him a suspicious look. “What’s the cost?”

  “Your presence alone enriches us, be assured. Are you three hungry?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Lexi touched her empty stomach. “Now that you mention it.”

  “Allow us to feed you, then. The kitchens are upstairs—you can’t miss them. Kade, if you don’t mind, we’d appreciate you stay behind so that we might share information.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Zeke. “Revolutionary business, sure, don’t want people like us getting in the way. C’mon, guys.”

  After a short journey across the garage floor, Lexi, Callie, and Zeke reached the stairs and began climbing. The stairwell contained multiple landings, allowing the steps to wrap around all four walls of the shaft. On the third landing, Zeke stopped and peeked over his shoulder.

  “I gotta say, those people weirded me the hell out. Did you read anything from them, Lex? You know, with your magic.”

  “I didn’t try,” said Lexi. “That guy talks too much, though. And the woman looked like she wanted to eat my spleen, shit it out, and bury it.”

  Zeke rapidly bobbed his goofy little head. “Yeah, that military attitude. Like kids playing soldiers. I don’t want to be caught up in some suicide pact shit.”

  “Calm down,” said Callie. “If Kade trusts them, they can’t be too bad. It’s Min we should be worrying about.”

  Zeke nodded. “You think she’ll be okay?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so. Lexi, did you see her expression when she walked into my garage?”

  “Sure,” said Lexi. “I imagine it’s the way I look when I walk into a bar full of horny women.”

  “Everyone thinks I’m weird for collecting old things. Like that hunter-case watch. It was sealed up in a bunker along with some ammo, tinned food, the stuff people pay for.” Callie gave a wistful smile. “But for that watch, even though it was the most beautiful thing I’d seen in weeks, nobody would offer more than a couple of bucks. Nobody looked at it the way I did. I’ll never forget how her eyes lit up when she saw it working.”

  “She loved that fucking monster movie, I’ll tell you that,” said Zeke. “Jumped right out of her skin.”

  Cute stories. Kinda touching. But not a subject that Lexi cared to dwell upon. “She was a sweetheart, but we can’t do anything about it. Let’s go eat our slop.”

  * * *

  Lexi pushed the double doors open with both hands, never one to do things by halves, and a wave of heat met her. The kitchen was stuffed with industrial cooking equipment, the source of the warmth. A group of Open Hand lackeys stirred and seasoned immense pots of soup that were ladled into bowls then passed through windows into waiting hands beyond. Animated conversation, bubbling food, ventilation fans, and the chattering of the hungry queue combined to make an overwhelming din.

  Callie nudged Lexi. “Check her out.”

  Lexi checked. Standing over one of the pots, churning the soup with a long metal spoon, was a thin, olive-complexioned woman sporting a strawberry-pink Mohawk. Numerous gold sleepers and studs decorated her face, and her tight black jeans and crop top accentuated her narrow frame while showing off her stomach. Very intriguing.

  “Wait here,” said Lexi. “I’m going to get you two some soup.”

  “You don’t want any?” said Zeke.

  Lexi grinned. “I’m going straight for dessert.”

  She sauntered toward the woman, who remained focused on her work, so far oblivious to the queer divinity coming her way. She was maybe an inch shorter than Lexi, and her facial features mixed strength with delicacy—sensual lips and high cheekbones, a defined jaw and an aquiline nose. Despite her height and squared shoulders, her skinny build, slender neck and shaved scalp gave her an air of fragility.

  “Hi there.” Lexi stood with a hand on her hip and lowered her lashes to complement what she intended to be a sultry smile. “I’m Lexi.”

  The woman lifted her eyes—a melancholy blue-gray. “Pleased to meet you.” Her voice was husky, melodious. “I’m Riva Latour.”

  As she gazed into Riva’s eyes, Lexi found something reaching back. So Riva was one of those. Every now and then, Lexi met someone who was easily read, an emotional bleeder. Riva’s mind felt like gossamer, beautiful but vulnerable, streaked through with doubt, resolve, pride, loneliness…

  “Are you okay?” Riva rested her spoon against the pot. “You have the oddest look on your face.”

  Lexi blinked as the stolen impressions faded. It was as if she’d just immersed her mind in a pool of warm water. “Sorry. I was distracted by your eyes. They’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

  Riva gave a quiet, nervous laugh—the uncertain sound of someone who suspected a joke at their expense. “If you’re hungry, you only have to ask. There’s no need to charm me first.”

  “I can’t turn the charm off. It just happens.”

  “In that case, I no longer feel special. May I ask why you’re here?”

  “I’m a fugitive cyborg.” Lexi laughed as Riva’s expression became incredulous. “No, really. I’m a dangerous and wanted individual.”

  “And your friends?” Riva glanced at Callie and Zeke, who still loitered in the doorway. “Are they fugitive cyborgs as well?”

  “Just boring regular fugitives. Would you mind if we have some bowls of, uh…stuff?”

  Riva ladled a cream-colored liquid into three metal bowls. “This is a cauliflower soup with added soy protein. We play around with seasoning to improve the taste, but it’s warm and filling, and that’s what matters.”

  Lexi peered into a steaming bowl. “Looks hot. But I can handle it.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Their eyes met again, and Riva
’s subtle smile confirmed what Lexi already knew. All that Lexi had to do now was give this girl her opportunity.

  “Do you have a break coming up?” Lexi said. “Maybe you can join us.”

  The smile faded. “Sorry. It doesn’t stir itself.”

  Lexi waited a moment longer, but it appeared Riva wasn’t shifting. Lexi placed the bowls on a tray, added some spoons, and headed to a small table in the corner.

  Zeke and Callie seated themselves as Lexi laid out the feast. “Enjoy,” she said. “It’s cauliflowers.”

  “You mean cauliflower.” Callie puffed on a spoonful before tasting it. “It’s not bad. Better than the stolen military rations I live on.”

  Lexi tried the soup. It really wasn’t bad at all—warm, just as Riva had promised, with a thick texture and a hint of savory flavor beneath its rich saltiness.

  “So, did you get the girl?” said Zeke.

  “Not yet.” Lexi licked her lips. “If I’d known a babe like her was working for Open Hand, I’d have been queuing here every day.”

  Callie took a slurp from her soup—no manners, that kid. “Do you ever think about anything but sex?”

  “Nope. You got me. I’m just a drooling libido.”

  “I’m serious, though. Is it even possible for you to talk about a woman without being sleazy about it?”

  “Sure. I talk about you in non-sleazy ways all the time. Mostly to warn people that you’re a serious pain in the ass.”

  “I used to think you were so cool. That way you act like you’re doing the world a favor just by being in it. But it’s getting old, Lexi. Maybe it’s time to grow up a little.”

  It was hard to decide whether this was pathetic or amusing. “You’re the one wasting your life pining for your bitch of an ex-girlfriend. I mean, what’s the deal there? Are you really so insecure you don’t think you can land anyone else?”

  Indignation simmered to the surface of Callie’s thoughts. “Go to hell.”

  “I’m already there. You, Zeke, and Kade. It’s like a race to see which of you will be first to make me fall into a pit of existential despair. You’ve taken the lead, by the way.”