“Quite a lot,” said Pet.
“Grr. You’re supposed to be helpful.” She walked on. “Why would a criminal even help me?”
“Perhaps you can try invoking your powers of cuteness.”
Kiera glanced sideways at Pet, unsure if she should laugh or glare. Pet’s innocent whistling got her, and she grinned. “Where would I even find someone like that?”
“There are some areas inside the Citadel where encountering lawbreakers would be more likely.”
“Ugh.” She patted her satchel, squeezing the laser pistol through the canvas. “This is so a bad idea, but I got nothing else.”
Pet glided onward. “This way….”
35
Mark of the Beast
Kiera wandered around for a few hours, but no one appeared in the least bit criminal or even seedy looking. She felt like she’d jumped into a reality warp and landed on a starship exploring uncharted civilizations, sent by an advanced society where humans had evolved beyond crime and racism and all the bad stuff. Everyone appeared to be so nice… except for Anton.
“Where’s the uhh, ‘bad part of town?’”
Pet flickered. “You are going to be upset, but the closest thing I can find to that would be on the second floor at the north end.”
The map appeared again, displaying the second story floorplan. Huge streets spread out from the circular core like a giant plus sign cutting the level into four quadrants. Faint lines pointed out the official entrance at the middle of the east side one level down. Maintenance shaft 084 that she’d crawled in from was on the west. Pet added a red blob highlight around the end of the northern street, spreading about a half mile into both sides, close to the outer wall.
“All the way back downstairs.” She gazed at the ceiling. “Let me guess, if I use an elevator, they’ll know.”
“I assume they are running face-matching software on all the security cameras. While it is easy enough to keep out of sight on the street, the elevators are small.”
Kiera shook her head hard, covering her face with hair. “How about this? Are there a lot of redheads inside?”
“Perhaps nine percent of the population. If you consider only girls your age with long hair, likely so few that robots will investigate. I am sure they are bothering other children who resemble you as well.”
“Fine.” She huffed. “Where are the stairs?”
Pet zipped ahead. “We will take a different set, closer to the north.”
“Right….”
She followed her flying cube, which stuck to smaller streets and alleys, avoiding crowds. Whenever the cube stopped short, she waited for robots to walk by the intersections up ahead. A touch over a mile later, Pet raced backward without warning. Kiera sprinted, chasing it around a corner, down another alley, and north again. It stopped a few paces short of where the alley met a cross street.
“Robot?”
“Yes. We were not seen, but it walked directly at us.”
Kiera nodded, hand on her chest. “I’m okay.”
“We are clear.” Pet glided onward.
She followed across the street, hooked a right at the next alley, and ducked left around a row of fast food shops. The smell of hamburgers, grilling chicken, and spices got her stomach growling, but Pet didn’t slow down. At the end of the food court, it headed left. A familiar archway waited at the end of a short street. Kiera trotted up to it, glancing at a sign indicating the stairwell went up four more levels as well as down to the first floor. She groaned at the idea of more steps, but raced along, whirling around turns at each switchback, hand on the railing. At least down didn’t wear her out as much as going up did.
Soon after reaching the second floor, she wandered along a street larger than the ones Pet had been using before. Fearing cameras, she shrouded her face with her hair, but not so much she couldn’t see. The farther north she walked, the less pristine the area became. A few tribal people moved among the pedestrians, some with strong tans and bright yellow jumpsuits.
Kiera blinked at them and whispered, “Why are they in yellow? Are they prisoners?”
Pet shook side to side. “No. Tribals. They are not permitted into the Citadel to work without clothing. The yellow garments are issued temporarily. They leave them at the gate when they go back to their villages at night.”
“Oh.” Kiera shivered. “Who’d want to be naked in here anyway? It’s too cold.”
“I cannot say if they do or do not prefer it. They merely don’t have anything, or what they do have is not enough for the law. It is sparse outside.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I miss when my biggest problem was trying to find something to wear.”
Pet chuckled. “A problem feels like the end of the world right up until you solve it.”
Kiera waited with a pack of citizens and tribals at a light, crossing once it changed. “I didn’t solve it… Dad gave me the poncho. He solved that problem.”
“But you approached them and asked for help, did you not? So you took the first step that led to the problem being solved.”
“I guess.”
A familiar barefoot Japanese woman in a plain beige cloth dress with microchips and resistors decorating her neckline walked by going the other way. She carried a toolkit and appeared to be in a hurry. Kiera spun to watch her pass.
“That’s Mei’s mom… Risuka.” Kiera considered waving, but didn’t.
Three cross streets later, only a handful of blue-clothed citizens remained in sight. The surroundings grew dirtier, left untended or avoided by those who lived inside the Citadel. Large men with dog-fur hide skirts and bright yellow ‘temporary’ shirts gathered by the fronts of bars, standing under the baleful red glow of holographic signs. A few glanced at her, and not in friendly ways. She thought back to Pet’s warning not to wear modern clothing out among the villages, and thanked nothing in particular that she’d listened.
Kiera kept her head down and hurried forward. They don’t know I’m one of them… That dude with the shaved head looks like he wants to hit me. The street opened into a bazaar of sorts, filled with tribals and pushcart merchants trading everything from flashy trinkets to haircuts, tattoos, and other things they’d spent their credits on in hopes of trading to other tribals. “Why would they buy stuff only to sell it?”
Pet halted, hovering over her shoulder. “They buy up rare products like candy or drugs and sell them for a few credits more to others. In the end, they generate money.”
Kiera sighed. “This place is giving me the serious creeps. I don’t like it here. Did you see the way that one guy stared at me?”
“They believe you are an Exalted. The citizens of the Citadel are not too friendly to the tribes, so there is hostility and bad feelings.”
“You don’t think they’d hurt me?”
Pet bobbed, a shrug. “Since you are inside, they will most likely not harm you because of the police. Outside, you would not have that protection. I think you should still stay away from them. They’d be mean to you if they had the chance.”
Kiera wandered for a little while more before coming to a stop and staring in the open door of another bar that didn’t look quite as scary as the first. “Hmm. Bartenders know criminals, right?”
“I don’t know,” said Pet.
“Oh, why not? It works in movies….”
She crossed the courtyard and wandered into a dim room full of round tables and booth seats as well as an empty stage tucked up against the innermost wall with a small drum-pad kit and microphone stand. The woman behind the bar looked on the older end of teenage, with bright violet hair and a nose ring… but the same plain blue outfit as the rest of everyone who lived in the Citadel wore.
Kiera walked up to the bar. She looked side to side, grasped the edge, and leaned forward, whispering. “Hey. I need to find someone with a… certain skill set. Can you―?”
“Get outta here, kid.” The woman pointed at the door. “You’re way too little to be in this place.”
> “But I―”
“Move it, brat. I ain’t getting shut down over an underage drinking citation.”
“I’m not dri―”
“Another two seconds, and I’m going to physically drag you out the door.”
Kiera grumbled.
The woman took a step to the side, her attitude softening. “Look, kid. Get out of here before you wind up stabbed or worse. It ain’t safe here for you. Mostly tribals come in here.”
“All right…” Kiera raised her hands. “Geez.”
She hurried out the door. A few steps into the courtyard, she yawned. “What time is it?”
“It is 10:48 p.m.,” said Pet, gliding up to float beside her head.
“Wow. So many outsiders still here… don’t they kick them out at night?”
Pet followed as she roamed. “The buses leave at 7:00 p.m., but they do not forcibly remove anyone with a work-permit after dark. We’re in an area with hotel space. Some from faraway villages spend the entire week inside, working. Some go back on the weekends, and some live here all the time.”
“Oh.” Again, she yawned.
Kiera headed into a place that looked like a fast food restaurant. Booth seats lined the walls, bright yellow-cushioned benches facing red tables. The red tile floor triggered a faint memory of a hamburger place she’d been in before being frozen. Nervous, Kiera entered, stomach growling harder at the smell of fried potatoes and possibly chicken in the air. A woman in a dog-fur hide dress behind the counter gave her a surprised stare, but said nothing as Kiera went into the back hallway toward a bathroom. In the Citadel, she’d probably get in trouble for peeing in an alley. That the idea of doing so didn’t feel wrong anymore worried her. On the way to the bathroom, she thought about her fake life and being ‘civilized,’ but it only made her miss her new parents more.
After washing her hands, which also felt bizarre, she trudged back to the seating area and over to an empty booth, where she curled up on the bench, using her arm for a pillow.
Pet landed beside her.
Right as she felt herself slipping off to sleep, a hand on her sneaker jostled her.
Kiera lifted her head, squinting at the woman in the dog-hide dress and sandals made of tire rubber. “What?”
The woman, a year or so past twenty, offered a weak smile, but didn’t look her in the eye. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I have to ask you to buy some food or you can’t stay inside here. It’s policy. I’ll lose my job if I don’t follow it.”
“Ugh.” Kiera sat up and wiped her eyes. “Sorry. I’ll go. I don’t have any numbers.”
The woman blinked. “Your parents’ account is empty? That can’t be possible. I’ve never seen an Exalted who didn’t have numbers. Or an Exalted who called it ‘numbers.’”
“Uhh….”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you? Is something wrong at home?” The woman edged closer, still looking down.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
The tribal woman clasped her hands in front of herself. “You’re so nice for an Exalted. If you get angry with me, I could be in trouble.”
“Yes, something is wrong at home. My parents have been kidnapped.” She slid to her feet. “I need to find a hacker or something.”
“What?” The woman gawked. “You’re far too small for violence. No… you shouldn’t!”
Kiera looked up at her with half-closed eyes. “You don’t know what a hacker is, do you? It’s not an axe. Forget it… I’ll go.”
The woman gestured at the counter. “You’re hungry. Please try to pick something. I’m sure you have numbers. All Exalted do.”
Whatever. She won’t believe me until the computer tells her I’m broke. She stumbled over to the counter. When the woman took her position behind it, Kiera pointed at a fried chicken sandwich combo. The terminal beeped a few times, and a holographic arrow appeared bouncing above a black square on the counter.
“Surprised this isn’t all robotic.” Kiera held her hand out, expecting a buzz, but got a happy chirp.
“We don’t usually have Exalted in here.” The woman grabbed something out of a steel cabinet and dropped it in a fryer. “It’s really to be nice to us tribals, ya know? They let someone have a job a machine can do.”
“That’s cool.” Kiera smiled, rubbing her hand. Huh… Maybe Bio-Mom had a café account with her work that’s still in the system.
A few minutes later, the woman set a tray on the counter in front of her. “It’s hot. You should let it sit before you bite it.”
“Okay.” Too tired to argue. Kiera picked up the tray and returned to her booth to feast on her grilled chicken and fries.
Pet landed nearby on the table. “You should leave soon.”
“But I wanna sleep here,” she muttered.
“You scanned your chip. They know where you are.”
She scowled. “Crap. I’m so tired I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s all right.”
Kiera stared at her hand, trying to picture the chip inside. A flicker of memory where Bio-Dad called them the ‘Mark of the Beast’ surfaced. She didn’t remember what he meant by that, other than thinking the chips were somehow evil. Having killer robots start hunting her every time she used it did seem evil. The brief peek into what had been her life only made her maudlin, wondering how much else―happy moments―she’d lost. It doesn’t matter. That world’s gone. She stuffed fries into her mouth, chewing them into a mush while a black cloud gathered over her head. Pet twirled around on the table, chirping and twittering.
The little robot’s antics let a tiny smile creep out from under the gloom. She hurried the rest of her dinner, earned an astonished look from the girl behind the counter when she carried her tray back, and darted out the door.
Pet took off, so Kiera jogged up to a light run to keep pace down an alley leading away from the courtyard. After passing two crossing streets, Pet slowed to walking speed. Kiera held her gut and burped, groaning at having to run so soon after eating fast. They entered a small atrium with ivy-covered walls arranged beneath artificial sun lamps, currently off. On the right, large elevated panels contained swaths of grass, some with benches. Plants covered almost every inch of the space that attempted to be a ‘park.’ Despite the relative grunge, the air smelled clean. Pet drifted over to a capsule-shaped fountain that resembled an aboveground swimming pool, but it only came up to her thighs. The cube hovered by an access hatch between two benches.
Kiera crawled up to it, close to collapsing in the street, but stayed awake long enough to open the panel and tuck inside. Safe from hexagonal eyes among a nest of piping and small pumps, she surrendered to sleep.
36
Rock, Paper, Scissors
Kiera startled awake. A tangle of PVC pipes hovered over her head, the black curve of the fountain basin above them. She grumbled and tried to stretch, but the small chamber didn’t have enough room for her to straighten her legs. A yawn paralyzed her for a few seconds, and she set her foggy head back down on her arm and closed her eyes.
A slam outside accompanied a few whispered naughty words.
She leaned up to the slatted hatch and peered out. The ceiling lights had dimmed, making the area appear like the middle of the night. Motion and continued grumbling drew her attention to a narrow alley off the ‘park’ where a man slapped and kicked at a small metal box mounted on the wall. He paused, staring out at the open area full of plants, looking worried. After a few minutes of silence, he seemed relieved and resumed tinkering.
That guy’s trying to break in to some place. Kiera wiped her eyes and yawned before pushing the hatch open and crawling out. She tugged her satchel up onto her shoulder and walked, yawning every two steps, into the alley.
The man had the most disheveled blue shirt and pants she’d yet seen on any permanent resident of the Citadel as well as shaggy hair, an unshaven face, and a stink like beer. He looked younger than her Dad, and had a wiry, thin frame that―despite his probable status as a lawbreaker―
made him far from scary. A metal lunchbox-sized device hung from the man’s black nylon belt, one side open to expose electronics and a nest of wires. He kept attaching them to the component on the wall with tiny clamps, occasionally triggering zaps and burned fingers.
Kiera stopped a few paces away, her left arm rested on the satchel, gripping the strap, right arm lax at her side.
He kept working, oblivious to her.
“Excuse me,” said Kiera in a small voice. “Can I ask you something?”
The man practically jumped straight out of his clothes. He whirled to face her, yanking a handful of wires off the device on the wall in a flurry of sparks. After a momentary staredown, he drew a knife and pointed it at her.
Kiera stuffed her hand in the satchel and pulled the laser pistol, pointing it at him. “I think I’m gonna win this rock, paper, scissors, don’t you?”
The man twitched, shaking, staring at the weapon. “Damn, kid… what the hell?”
“Don’t be stupid. Calm down. I only wanna talk. I don’t care what you’re doing. I’m not gonna get the cops.”
“Cops? What?” He fidgeted, squeezing and relaxing his grip on the knife.
Kiera gave him a flat look. “Police?”
He shuddered, shaking his head. “How you get cops outta police?”
“Forget it. I’m not going to get you in trouble. Can we talk? Maybe put weapons away?”
A nervous laugh forced its way past the man’s clenched teeth. His random shakes became more of a nod, and he slid the knife back into its sheath on his belt. “Okay… strange kid. What do you want?”
Kiera tucked the laser in the satchel, but not too deep so she could grab it easily if need be. “Do you know any hackers? I need to break some people out of jail.”
“Heh.” The man covered his mouth and looked around, lost to a fit of giggles. “Where’s the camera? This is some kinda prank right? That’s not even a real stinger.”
Citadel: The Concordant Sequence Page 33