by Peter Tylee
*
The Raven irritably paced, incapable of ordering himself to stand still. The swish of his cloak and the squeak of hard leather boots complemented the sound of rubber squealing on an overly waxed floor whenever he pivoted on his heels.
He froze.
Was this it?He listened with his mind, feeling a slight vibration in his temples that meant something important was about to happen. The vibration rapidly spread to his back teeth and he knew he was about to receive the omen he so desperately desired. It shivered in front of his vision, a gelatinous eye, staring back at him with cold hatred in its piercing gaze. The Raven waited, obediently. He dared not ask questions, all he could do was wait for the signal. He risked flicking his gaze to the girls below. The innocent one was walking away, leaving the Cameron girl alone. Perfect timing.He wired his mouth shut lest he start beggingfor his omen.
The other patrons in the mall ignored him. To them, he was just another drunk lunatic staring into space, drooling at something his eyes alone could see. The Raven was fine with that; he cared nothing for the cattle around him. Hewas the hunter and theywere the prey – things for him to use and toss aside as need dictated. They were certainly not worthy of human compassion, if he were still capable of such a feat.
He quivered slightly, feeling a sudden chill as the eye puffed up larger than he remembered it ever swelling before. It was football sized now and still growing. Finally, it spoke into his mind with a volume that made his knees tremble.
“I give thee sanction.”
The Raven bowed in respect and started backing away, irritating the cattle nearby and eliciting more than one oath.
He said merely, “It shall be done in your honour.”
*
Jen was absently tapping a rhythm on the seat cushions, lost in thought when the commotion began. It all happened so quickly her mind couldn’t untangle the blur of activity. She first noticed something was wrong, very wrong, when a brute of a man slammed into her at chest height and she thumped her head on the unyielding tile floor. She reeled from the shock and her vision faded briefly to white before recovering to a dull semblance of its former clarity. A distant, disengaged part of her mind warned that she was concussed. What was that?She heard something that sounded like shattering glass. An earthquake?Her mind hesitantly offered the answer but she quickly rejected it. Elustra giga-malls were earthquake proof.
What then?She brought her head off the chilly floor to find the man pressing her down. “What?”
“Shut up.” He snapped roughly and thrust her down more forcefully. His voice rasped like a chainsaw badly in need of oil. But what else?Jen wondered. There was an important piece of information she knew she couldn’t grasp in her stunned state.
I’m being robbed.It was the next most logical conclusion, though at that moment she didn’t realise he’d demanded nothing of her except silence. She tried reaching for her wallet but couldn’t move her arms, he’d pinned them to the ground behind the bench.
She turned her head and saw the bench: a solid block of old-growth wood, carved with seats and padded with cushions. It was a corpse. It had been alive for centuries until someone had attacked it with a chainsaw. Such details were lost on most mall patrons. But if someone hadn’t forced Jen into such a supine position, she wouldn’t have noticed either.
Is that it? She wondered with dread whether he was going to use the solid frame of the bench as cover for rape. Her head was starting to clear. No, it’s too visible from the medical centre.It frustrated her not to know what was going on.What then?
As suddenly as he’d knocked her to the ground, he yanked her up, nearly wrenching her arm from its socket. He certainly wasn’t a weakling; he could toss her around like a rag doll.
Like a leopard carrying its prey, the man thrust her into the corner and shoved her against a mock-stone pillar. She got her first look at him. He was 30-something and quite good looking with a cleft in his chin that she’d always admired in her father. He looked neatly groomed, though his choice in clothing spoke volumes about his disdain for modern fashion. He reminded her of a thug, except he couldn’t possibly be one. Thuggery was dead, forgotten to everyone except Hollywood producers. But his bulky clothing couldn’t conceal the vitality of his frame and it alarmed her to think about his willingness to handle her so roughly. What else might he be capable of?
His eyes were feral. She recognised something viciously animalistic burningdeep within him and fretted that he might aim it at her. He appeared to be searching for something in the crowd. Nobody’s noticed.The truth shocked her. How could he do this without anyone lifting a finger?Her stunned silence gave way to anger and she squirmed under his vice-like grip only to have his fingers bite harder on her flesh.
“What the fuck do you think-” Jen’s voice was shrill with fury but she didn’t get any further.
“I told you to shut up.” He spoke with such calm authority that disobedience didn’t occur to her. His voice was different now, cold, detached. It retained none of the raw energy that’d perforated his words before. Businesslike?She couldn’t be sure, but neither could she fathom how he remained calm after doing something so anti-social.
Jen’s head was pounding with a latent headache from the knock.She tried to move an arm to feel where her scalp was stinging,but couldn’t budge under his control. “Ouch.” Her whisper was barely more than a wince but it instantly transformed her captor. He lessened his grip and permitted her to trance a finger along the bruise at the back of her head. It was already swelling into a lump but there wasn’t any blood.
“Where the fuck do you get off pushing me around like this?” Jen kept her voice low and it was nearly cracking on every word. She didn’t really feel in danger, not with so many people and cameras around. Elustra security would be there soon. Won’t they?But that brought perils too. They’d be sure to discover she was unchipped and hand her to the resident chipping squad for surgery. That though brought primal fear to her eyes and she froze. What if he isa chipping officer?The idea revolted her. How could I have been so careless?She cursed herself for coming to Elustraand fervently hoped Samantha would escape a similar fate.
“Let me go.” She wriggled with all the strength she could muster but it was useless in his grasp. He squeezed harder on her wrist until she was sure the ligaments were about to separate. His other hand was pinning her right shoulder to the column and she may as well have been struggling against a thousand tonnes.
He thrust her harder against the pillar and the jolt freshened the bruise on the back of her head, ending her struggle.
“What part of ‘shut-up’ don’t you understand?” His frustration felt rushed and he only took his eyes off the crowd for long enough to scowl quickly at her.“Do you want to die?”
The question caught her by surprise and she stammered, “N-no, of course not.”
“Then relax and listen very carefully.” He let go of her shoulder and pulled an oversized handgun from a holster concealed by his jacket. Jen stared at the black carbon-steel barrel, fascinated by the fact that he felt the need to draw a weapon on her. It didn’t register in her dazed mind that he wasn’t aiming it at her. “There’s a bounty-hunter over there, and he’s coming this way.” Dan waited a few seconds, allowing time for his words to sink in. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Jen nodded, mute. She thought she did.
“He’s coming over here to kill you.” Dan emphasised it with a piercing look, then his eyes roved the crowd again, looking for signs of his nemesis. He knew he was there, he’d seen him. He was close – close enough to fire those damned glass pellets. Three of them would’ve struck Jen in the chest if he hadn’t knocked her from the bench. “You’ve been targeted for apprehension by the WEF,” Dan said. “They’ve authorised him to kill you if you don’t co-operate, but he’s not the sort to ask politely. Do you understand?” He needed to be sure she comprehended everything he was saying. If she struggled when he made his move, the Raven would ki
ll her and it would place him in jeopardy.
“Yes.” She was too stunned to say anything else. She stared at him with wide-eyed suspicion, wondering whether hewas the real hunter. At least that would explain the gun.But then another possibility crossed her mind: What if he’s an activist?The thought of an altruistic activist saving her from a bounty hunter appealed to her romantically,but reality quickly shattered the struts that held those thoughts aloft. How would he know? And why choose to help now?
“You don’t believe me,” Dan said, reading her expression.
“I don’t know.” At least she was honest.
Dan grunted. “Well make up your mind.” He released her and she nearly collapsed on unsteady knees. “He’s coming this way and I’m not staying here to argue with him. You can follow me if you want, but if you head that way,” – he nodded in the direction of the thinning crowd – “it’s your funeral.”
Jen scanned the throng, trying to find something that would corroborate his story. Nothing. Bloody nothing.She either had to trust him on faith alone or not at all. She searched his face. There was no fear in his copper-green eyes. There was something seasoned about them, something that spoke of routine and repetition. Maybe he’s deliberately luring me away. Maybe he has something devious or perverted in mind.The seconds dragged by and he expected an answer. And Jen didn’t know how much longer he’d wait for one.
“Okay, what do you want me to do?” The cautious part of her mind screamed for her to reverse the decision. It’s a trap. Surely it’s a trap. And not a very original one either.But another part, a more trusting and naïve part that believed people were essentially good-natured, overruled it.
Dan nodded once and said, “Wise decision.” The impish smile that flirted briefly across his lips didn’t help reassure Jen that she’d made the right choice. “He’s close. I don’t know where and that makes me nervous. But he’s fired at you already so he probably has a clear line of sight.” He waved at the glass that was glistening on the bench and the floor. Sticky black fluid – nanotoxin – was oozing down the cushions.
Jen eyed it warily, remembering the sound of shattering glass but having no idea what it meant. It wasn’t the solid confirmation she was looking for, this strange man could’ve planted the shards himself.
“On my word I want you to run for the clinic,” Dan said, raising the barrel of his pistol. The automatic doors were a tantalising seven metres away, but it was across open ground so he wanted to wait until someone came out. That way they wouldn’t have to wait for the slow-action motors to open the sheets of glass.
She nodded, mutely.
Dan scouted the crowd, willing the Raven to show himself so he could to fire a shot. He was a good shot and he blessed the weekly firearm practice that’d permitted him to retain his sharpshooter status. He felt confident he could hit a human head at 20 metres. Of course, that didn’t mean he actually could, he just felt confident. One of Zyclone’s side effects was to elevate the patient’s confidence in his or her abilities. He’d read the documentation that came with the packet but felt sure he was compensating for the medicine-induced error in his judgement. That’s what they all think, he reminded himself.
A pregnant woman waddled out of the clinic and Dan tensed. He didn’t want to risk harming her if the Raven fired. As soon as she’d cleared the probable line of fire, he shoved Jen roughly in the back and shouted, “Go, go!”
She staggered, her legs obeying slowly at first. But after a few unsteady paces, she was sprinting for the already-closing doors. She risked a flirting look over her shoulder but couldn’t see anything atypical. The adrenaline flowing through her arteries helped, it made her fast and allowed her to ignorethe otherwise incapacitating ringing in her ears.
Dan followed, urging her on and keeping his pistol in on offensive position, ready to fire the instant he spotted the Raven. He stopped briefly at the glass-littered bench and inwardly swore. Somebody might sit there.He hated the Raven’s reckless disregard for public safety. What if that pregnant woman hadn’t been wearing shoes?He looked down;the sticky shards were burying into the rubber soles of his new boots. Oh shit.He knew he’d have to dispose of them, if a shard wove its way into his carpet and he placed a heel on it a year later, he’d die in a gooey pile of puss wondering how it’dhappened.
Titanium poles fixed the bench to the ground and he held no illusions that he was capable of uprooting them. But the cushions were loose and he risked precious seconds in the open by tearing them from the bench and flipping them upside-down on the ground. Then all he could do was hope the cleaners were careful. He darted into the medical centre where the receptionist was prompting Jenfor her name and appointment time.
Dan commanded all attention in the room when he said, “We’re not here for a check-up.” He cast an anxious glance over his shoulder to ensure the Raven wasn’t creeping up on his blind spot.
“What can I do for you then?” the receptionist asked, doing well to keep her voice calm. She was tall, at least six feet tall, and she’d wound her blond hair into a neat bun at the back of her head. Her rich red lipstick and overdone eye-shadow looked wrong against her pale skin but Dan only gave her a perfunctory look.
Elustra had built the medical centre to giga-mall specifications. Every surface shined, scouredwith a hospital-grade cleanser that made Dranolook like a toy solvent. The mandatory theme was blue and white and even the receptionist wore a uniform. She looks like an evil nurse, Dan thought. But he also knew Elustra’s giga-mall specifications meant there had to be a backdoor to guard against the loss of human life – and therefore an expensive lawsuit – in the unlikely event that any of the metallic surfaces caught fire.
“Have you got an exit out back?” Dan asked, his voice returning to its original rusty-chainsaw timbre.
She looked defiant. “Only employees are allowed back there.” She frowned in annoyance. “If you don’t intend to make an appointment then can you please leave.” It wasn’t a question.
Dan shook his head. “No, sadly.” When he’d entered the clinic, he’d hid his 1911 pistol inside the folds of his coat where it wouldn’t cause undue alarm but was easy to access if needed. He chose that moment to pull it free and added, “And I don’t have time to argue.”
“Security’s on its way,” she replied defensively while backing away from him.
“Good for them.” Dan smiled, genuinely amused. “You can tell them we escaped out back if you like.” He felt the building pressure of lost time. Soon the Raven would arrive and the conversation would grind to an abrupt halt.
“Come on.” He gripped Jen by the forearm; she was wide-eyed and dazed. “We’ll find it ourselves.”
He led her down the sterile corridor, past doors that read ‘radiology’, ‘pharmacology’, ‘blood work’ and ‘staffroom’. Private offices and consultation rooms were next, all with doctors’ names stencilled on the doors. Dan took an educated guess and burst rudely into the office at the end of the hall.
“What is this?” The doctor peered over the rim of his heavy-framed glasses, outraged by the intrusion.
The old man Jen had seen shuffle inside not ten minutes earlier lay on a white sheeted bed, naked from the waist up.The doctor was feeding data from dozens of the man’s organs into his diagnosis computer. It seemed incongruous that he was also listening to the man’s wheezy breath with a cold stethoscope.He couldn’t get anything from the stethoscope that the computer wouldn’t tell him, but old habits died hard in the medical community.Anotherclump of monitors displayed the elderly man’s vitals and Jen saw the glitch their interruption had caused. They had affected his heart the most.The green tracer sped up, blipping at an alarming pace for such an old man.
“Do you have a portal we can use?” Jen asked gently, afraid her un-named companion might shock the patient to death if he spoke.
The doctor, spying Dan’s gun and deciding not to argue, pointed. Jen took two steps before Dan held her back and shook his head. “No, no portal
s. It doesn’t matter where you go. If you use a portal the bounty hunter will find you.”
Jen looked sceptical and thought, I doubt it – I’m unchipped.But she didn’t want to tell him that. It was easy for her; she could press a button and get a new identity. Dan, perceptive as usual, understood what she was thinking by the look in her eyes. He rebuffed her unspoken protest, saying, “I know you’re unchipped and it doesn’t matter a damn. He can track you, he has ways.”
She frowned. “How did-”
Dan silenced her with a curt flick of his fingers and turned back to the doctor, who hadn’t moved. “Elustra builds service shafts into every mall. There should be an entrance here somewhere. Where is it?”
The doctor was a short, stout man. He looked like a human potato regardless of how many degrees he’d earned. All he could muster was a brief point to one wall.
Dan didn’t hesitate.He strode to it and ripped away the covering plate, exposing the entrance to a dark metallic shaft that spanned the height of the 125-storey structure. Aside from escaping fires, the shafts were useful for accessing the maintenance spaces between floors. An out-rush of stale air hissed from the shaft, engulfing them in a cold squall that swirled around the room, snatching loose papers and jostling the laminated charts of human anatomy.
He peered inside, unsure what to expect. It was long and dark and he had no clue where the lights would be. He slapped a hand pessimistically around the shaft’s metallic innards, groping for a switch but not really expecting to find one. There was nothing. Looking up he saw a dim halo of light filtering from the roof. Below he could see only darkness. He shivered at the thought of falling in the shaft, but realistically knew their choices were slim – too slim to argue with the hand of fate.
“Ladies first.” He waved Jen toward the shaft.