by Andre Pisco
"Does anyone else know?” I asked her.
"No, I never told anyone. I couldn't."
"Let's keep this between us for now. Ashen and Gordon have no idea and right now they're waiting for us to do our job. That is what we are going to do. Understood? Then we'll sort it out between us."
"How am I supposed to work with someone I don't trust?" Maggie asked and I could see from her look that she was sadder than upset. A few wrinkles in the corner of her eyes and her teeth grinding as soon as she finished talking.
Before I or Kendra could answer, Lipa told us to hurry. Behind the wooden door a narrow corridor, torches on both sides providing the only light that existed there, stretching endlessly. In the corridor, we could only hear our footsteps, almost like a stone thrown into a well. There was an echo, but we didn't know how deep it was.
I was in the middle of them. They refused to talk and, to replace the silence, Lipa nearly had an orgasm as she told us how beautiful the black market was.
She spoke of the cobblestone streets filled with all kinds of stands, selling everything from weapons to shields, of the neon blue lights that bounced off the floor and reflected on the medieval walls. She told us how beautiful the dark cloud scenery was together with the broad streets, the piss smell and the songs that came from the tavern. She ended by describing it as "a poor city for the rich".
The tunnel came to an end. An open round space, with several small corridors around it, where fine rays of sunlight entered through the cracks in the degraded and oval roof. Dozens of people, ranging from ones wearing stained and torn clothes to others wearing new T-shirts, visible in the way the fabric was not creased along the arm and shoulder, were in queue. There were still more people coming from all the little hallways. Most of them seemed to know each other or, at least, were polite enough to say hello when walking past someone. A row of 6 security guards, 3 on each side, led to a grey door, with two more checking the people in the queue.
One by one, the people stopped, looking at Lipa with a certain disdain, raised nose, and half-closed eyes, but also fear, paving the way for her to pass.
"Follow me." She said, giving us time to get close to her, "I never like to come here. People always look suspicious, expecting something from someone. It's strange." She added, sticking to a straight line, avoiding contact with anyone.
"What is this place?” I asked, looking around, noticing the decaying skin of two ladies who were a few meters from us limping, as well as the grandeur of the roof, reminding me of a few churches with their large-scale works, containing lines carved into the material itself.
"The entrance. Do you see these different paths? They all lead to a different place. Some of us, like me, have an entrance for ourselves, but most of them use the ones in the major cities." She explained as we passed the guards. None of them asked us for identity, as they were asking the rest of the people, and in no instance did they show fear or any suspicion of our presence there.
One of them left the formation, walked up to us and whispered in Lipa's ear. She frowned and arched her eyebrow before thanking him. The same man opened the main door and wished us a good afternoon. The contrast between the dim light of the quasi-cave and the flowering circus lights on the other side was immediate, as was the icy current that flowed from there and made most of the people rub their arms. I was fascinated even though I already had an idea of what to expect. We, Hunters, heard about that place, but no one ever set foot in it. It's almost an unreachable myth. I've never met anyone who did. Much less entering the crime's holy grail through the front door.
"Stay close. You don't want to get lost here." Lipa said.
Chapter VIII
The place matched her description. The blue lights wandering between the place, traces of them on the 19th-century walls, and, in the background, above all buildings, a clock tower, the top of it tapping into the sky, which Lipa quickly explained to us, was produced by a cloud-making machine. That way they could remain in the sky, lightening the atmosphere, cooling it down and make it reminiscent of dark alleyways during the coldest nights.
People there were different. Their steps were measured and there was no one running, as well as the long, old-fashioned clothes that seemed to hide something underneath. There were some men with black robes, symbolic lapels hanging over a front pocket and metallic chains from the shoulders to the chest and from the belt to the knees. Others wore light brown robes and concealed their faces behind same colored hoods.
"Look." Maggie said, having elbowed me on the shoulder, "That woman there."
So, I did. Behind a mob of people who rumbled through police weapons, a woman wandered with long black hair matching her tight trousers and a transparent shirt that made no secret of the metallic prosthesis in her arm.
"Don't look too much. It's a recurring theme here. Technology-enhancing changes to the body." Lipa started, "Is there really that much difference between that and that glove you wear?" She asked Maggie.
"Oh...No. Not much. But why isn't this known? I've never heard of experiences like this before."
"They're not experiences. It's a job. You know, there's a world behind the normality curtain. In the neighborhoods where the police avoid setting foot, in places like this, which are forbidden to them and to Hunters. Technology proliferates but in different ways. Some do it for pleasure, others to be stronger or to become an expert. There's everything. It's not very much in my interest. I just have these piercings and that's enough for me." She said, diverting the hair from the ear and showing a row of 4 piercings.
"You've been here before, haven't you?" I asked Kendra, who had her lips clenched, and her brown eyes hidden behind a layer of dark circles.
"Our father used to bring us here when we were younger. She followed his path and I walked away. I followed the opposite path much to his disappointment. I don't think he ever forgave me." She answered, a few words getting lost amidst the frantic vendors' screams and the heated arguments between customers who wanted the same gun.
"You're wrong, you know? Dad was proud of you. Not that he was ever going to show it, but he followed your progress and never took that picture of you on a swing from his desk." Lipa said, intruding, "We're near. Let me talk and don't touch anything."
The watch pointer hit 4 pm. The sound flew from one end of the market to the other; shrill, being heard everywhere. However, no one stopped. There were no casualties. They were already expecting it and continued to place weapons on their shoulders, experimenting them, handling knives between their fingers, moving diagonally, juggling with them. Lipa's two security guards were still following us, at a considerable distance, one ahead and one behind.
We made a detour to a narrow alley that ended a few meters in front of us, where a wall, three times my size, blocked the passage. Besides a few metal bars windows, the place contained only a full trash can, bits of leftover food all over the dusty floor, and a dark-blue door, which had some graffiti and a lock with an adn identification pad. Lipa slammed her finger against the sensor box and waited until a green light appeared. She opened the door and asked us to wait there. The security guards covered the entrance to the alley while we stood there, between babbling and sighs, waiting for her.
I wanted to say something, but I didn't think it was the right time. My mother had taught me that there are moments for everything and that sometimes silence had more impact than any word spoken in such a time of reflection. The trust between the three of us had suffered a blow and it would take time before it was restored. Even the physical relationship would suffer its changes. We would have time to talk about it. At that moment I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. We were on our own, in a place surrounded by unpredictable madmen, lacking support, on a secret mission. If something happened to us, we wouldn't even be remembered, maybe someone would release a "James Crusher. Must be the name" referring to me and that would be the last time Crusher's name would be spoken anywhere near the main building.
Fo
rtunately, people didn't even notice us, we weren't anyone there, and our clothes didn't stand out.
"Are you sure your sister can be trusted? I don't know anything anymore." Maggie asked, hurt in her voice.
"I wouldn't let you come here if I didn't trust her too. I know I made a mistake, but now you're just being an idiot."
"I am worried about our survival. I'm sorry if I'm the only one." Maggie struck back again, firing splinter after splinter, still irritated by what had happened.
"Gee, okay, I'm sick of you. This is why I don't join groups." Kendra finished and started slamming on the door, "But can we go now or not?"
After a few seconds, a guy in there answered yes. A thick, hoarse voice, the voice of someone who had been smoking cigarettes since his childhood, grew higher by the minute, saying that we could go in but to wipe our shoes on the carpet at the entrance. We waited until the man opened the door for us and so we did. We only saw his shadow entering a door and that's where we'd go if it wasn't for Lipa showing up at the opposite door and calling us. Her security guards were still outside, aware of all the danger.
"Come on, come on. Doctor Asa is here." She said and left the door open.
It was a long clean white-walled corridor with at least 4 doors and at the end some stairs leading to a second floor.
We entered the small room, a spinning blue lamp lighted the only table that was in the middle, full of objects such as safety goggles, drills, screwdrivers, among others. There was also a metallic arm where he had drilled some holes around it to attach an iron glove that was on the right. It still reeked of burnt metal, which was scorched but molded by the measurements that were written on a paper at the edge of the table.
"Is that Dr. Asa?" Maggie asked me quietly, "I was expecting someone more...fearful, you know?"
I didn't answer her. I heard her, but before agreeing with her, I got distracted by the way the scrawny man in front of us, with his cheekbones in a straight line, a nose ring and spiky hair still glistening from the gel, ignored our presence, typing on his computer, making it impossible for anybody to follow his fingers.
"He looks like an old rock star," Kendra commented, sitting on one of the chairs and putting her foot on another.
"Asa, ASA!" Lipa screamed until he noticed her.
"Oh, yes. I'm easily distracted. You said you got buyers for some of my cameras. Didn't you?" He asked, not even noticing us. He scratched his chin goatee with sharp fingernails until he nearly bruised, and then straightened his metal-rod round glasses.
"Yes, they are here. They have a few concerns." She said and sat on one of the chairs, stretching her feet.
The doctor looked at me and Maggie and shrugged her upper lip. He invited us to sit down and said he would do his best to answer our questions. He removed a box from under his desk, where he had the cutting-edge computer, and from there he took three cameras.
"So... Hm..." I started, taking long pauses to quickly think about what I could say, "We know you also sold it to the Reapers. And if we know that, how can we prevent anyone from knowing that we made a deal? We'd like to keep this just between us, you know?" I asked, lightening my voice to sound more eloquent.
"Don't worry. It's all just between us. As for the Reapers, I sold them over 100 cameras. It's normal for one camera or another to end up in someone's hands. It' still not illegal to sell to good people, you know? Even if they investigate, they will only find cameras bought and paid by Hunters, there's not much more to dig into." He said, speaking as he keyed.
"That's a good idea. I'm not a big fan of Hunter's. They can't be trusted, you know?" Maggie said, her dress gluing to her body thanks to the subtle breeze that slid under the jammed window glass.
"I've worked with them before. There are good people and there are bad, very bad people. Not that the Reapers are better, to be honest. There are no good or bad people in this society, you know? Only desire to destroy and the need for sustenance. Each one bets on the one that gives them the most goose. I, for example, am good at building things. What they are used for is not my business. As long as I can continue to do so, to push technology's limits, that is fine."
"Even if thousands of people die?” Kendra asked him, biting her lower lip.
"People are still going to die, aren't they? Sacrifices have to be made." He replied, unflinchingly, without even blinking. There was no empathy left in him.
"Just hurry up. I have places to be." Lipa called out.
She got up, went to the window and stood on her toes so she could peek. It was so dirty that she still had to blow and wipe with her sleeve. Maggie was talking to Dr. Asa, she made up the idea that we needed two cameras to hide in our house. She told him it wasn't the first time someone had stolen something from us, and we wanted to know who, at all costs. I was impressed with her, but perhaps it was also a real situation and she was just seizing it. Kendra kept leaning against the chair, her buttocks almost spilling out while she yawned.
"EVERYONE HI..." Lipa started but her words were engulfed by a huge explosion that threw us against the walls.
Chapter IX
I woke up with Kendra punching me in the shoulder. My head was stinging in pain and my vision was still a little distorted, as well as hearing a constant buzz, a drum set that kept the same rhythm in my mind, and yet still distant. My mouth was dry and as soon as I tried to talk, I coughed until she handed me a bottle of water.
"We have to get out of here. Quickly." She said, and only then did I notice that she was bleeding from her forehead.
"What happened?!" I asked, still confused, my eyes searching the room for Maggie and Lipa.
I couldn't find them. Only Professor Asa, leaning against the wall, one of the metallic fingers stuck in his heart. His white coat was stained with red and his brown eyes were still open but lifeless.
"Ironic, isn't it?" Kendra said, not waiting for an answer, "We have to run away!".
"We can't. We have to look for Maggie and your sister." I told her, holding and caressing her, "We can’t leave them."
"They're probably dead already!" Kendra answered me, sobbing while sniffling.
I struggled to get up. My head was still spinning, it was hard to see anything beyond the smoke and there was already screaming and pleading from the outside. People were distressed; a rule had been broken and now it was every man for himself. Small-scale brawls started everywhere. Minor explosions, the sound of metal clashing, all came together in a quick and bloody outcome. I used my cloak sleeve to cover my mouth and part of my nose and told Kendra to do the same as we roamed the room, guided through by tact, hands on what was left of the walls. It took us a long time, or at least that's what we thought, to find Lipa, lying on the floor, blood dripping down her shoulder, pebbles all over her chest and a rock trapping her arm. She wasn't moving. She had a heartbeat, but she had passed out.
"You have to stay here while I look for Maggie," I said, the rush controlling my body.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this...but I'm scared, James." She said, looking me in the eye, her eyes popping out on her dusty face.
I took her hand, brought her close to me, until our bodies touched, and kissed her. Our lips intertwined and, for a moment, both the smoke and the sound violence were just a distant nightmare.
"Everything will be alright. I won't take long." I said, as soon as our lips moved away, "Give me one end of your whip, then it will be easier for me to come back. If someone shows up, give it a couple of pulls and I'll run back, okay?"
She nodded and got to work lifting the rock from her sister's arm, keeping the whip between her fingers, and removing it. It was the last thing I saw before I ventured into the fog. It dissipated gradually, but it was still difficult to see much more than what was ahead of me.
I found Maggie leaning against a wall. The protective foil weighed more than she did, and I had to detach it. Her eyes were closed, and her heartbeat was uneven and slow. I grabbed her by her head and feet, being careful not to hurt her
more than she was already, with her shoulders skinned and part of her dress torn and showing a sliver of wood that had penetrated the right side of her stomach. Using the whip, it didn't take me more than a few seconds, or maybe minutes, to reach Kendra. Lipa already had her eyes open. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"Don't talk, don't talk. We're getting out of here." Kendra repeated, "James, what now?"
My head still hurt, but they relied on me. I breathed deeply and took control of the situation, "We have to get out of here. It doesn't matter if we have to use force for that. If we get to the main gate, we should be safe. Your sister's security guards must already know what happened and must be looking for her." I said and noticed that Maggie struggled to open her eyes, her long eyelashes almost rubbing against her eyebrows, "It's okay. You can open them, Maggie. Kendra, we need a bottle of water. Quickly."
"I think I saw one around here," Kendra said and stretched her hand until she grabbed a bottle whose identification paper was browned, and the words were fading.
She took a sip, I drank another, and I opened Lipa and Maggie's mouth, tilting their heads, while Kendra poured a thread of water down their lips and throats. Finally, with the rest of it, we cleaned our faces. We saved the rest to use on the way.
After a mild shaking, they both woke up. Eyes twirling, chests lifting, holding on to what they could, nailing their nails into my skin, still trying to figure out what had happened.
"I saw it, I saw it! Someone on a rooftop with a bazooka pointing this way. They wanted to kill us. The rest was by accretion. What the hell are you guys into?" Lipa asked and paused for a long time, taking a deep breath, before continuing, "I thought you were trying to catch some reapers, climb the career ladder, but this is serious. If the Reapers are willing to break the black-market rules it's because they're scared, which means they won't stop. The council will not want to get involved. There is nothing I can do. You have to run away and hide."
"The council?” I asked, helping her to get up, while Kendra helped Maggie, who in the end thanked her. Nothing like a deadly experience to put dramas aside.