Heir Ascendant

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Hi.” Sarah smiled. A small brown pouch on her left hip rattled with metal clicks and clanks as she sat. “Heard Genna took in someone new.”

  “Yeah.” Maya filled her lungs, held the air for a second, and let it out her nose. The urge to shrink away from another child felt strange for a girl who’d thought nothing of prancing about in front of a boardroom and even changing clothes surrounded by a film crew, makeup people, and Vanessa’s entourage. The Maya of a few days ago adored attention wherever she could get any. How intimidating could children be? What’s wrong with me? She looked up, trying to think of something to say. “I am not used to being around other kids. Uhh. How old are you?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I’m nine. Parents?”

  “Dad.” Sarah pointed over her shoulder with her left thumb. “He’s down the end. Mum disappeared. You?”

  “Sorry.” Maya ground her toes into the rug. “Mine didn’t want me, but it’s okay because Genna’s my mom now.”

  “She’s nice.” Sarah smiled. “A little scary, but nice.”

  Maya bit her lip at the memory of her first impression of the woman. Her contempt at the other child’s slovenly attire faded when she remembered she wore only a spaghetti-strap nightdress. Worse still, the thin garment was all she even owned. “It’s bad to meet someone and lie to them right away, so I don’t want to do that. If we’re going to be friends… I’m guessing you want to be friends since you came to see me. Can you keep a secret?”

  Sarah’s eyes widened with excitement. “Ooh. Okay.”

  “You gotta promise or people could get hurt.” She made a finger gun. “Serious hurt.”

  “‘Kay.”

  “My name isn’t really Lisa. It’s Maya.”

  Sarah covered her mouth and gasped.

  She cringed, whispering, “Yes. That Maya.”

  “Ooh.” Sarah eyed the door before leaning close and muttering in a low voice. “I thought you looked just like that girl on the ads. Oh crap… is the Authority looking for you?”

  “I don’t think so. Genna and some people kidnapped me, but Vanessa didn’t want to pay. She told them to kill me. When Genna saw that, she felt bad for me. She’s my mom now.”

  “Oh…” Sarah grabbed her in a hug. “That’s awful!” After a moment, she let go. “I won’t tell anyone, uhh, Lisa.”

  Maya giggled.

  Doctor Chang reentered, waving at Sarah as he approached. “Maya, your mother is going to be out for a while. I gave her a nutrient shot, so she won’t need to worry about eating today. It will probably be six to ten hours before she wakes up. If she needs any help getting to the bathroom, come find me or my wife in apartment 112. That’s one floor down on the sixth.”

  “Okay,” said Maya.

  “I’ve also taken her weapon.” He patted his bag. “I don’t feel right leaving it lying out and about with you here alone.”

  Maya shrugged. “I understand. I wouldn’t have touched it, but you’re right.”

  “How’s that eye of yours, Faerie?” He stooped close to Sarah. “Hmm. Don’t see any trace of bruise.”

  “It’s fine now, Doc. Thanks.” For a few seconds, her sparkle seemed to fade and she studied her lap.

  He nodded and walked out.

  “Your father?” asked Maya.

  “No. Dad would never…” Sarah glanced at the door, waited a moment, and lowered her voice near a whisper. “There’s a man living on the ground floor. Mr. Mason. It was him. He’s mean and he lies. Stay away from him. He’ll try to hurt you. Even Emily doesn’t like him, and she likes everyone.”

  “Who’s Emily?” Maya tilted her head.

  Sarah took a deep breath. “Okay. There’s only a couple of people in this building. Doc and Zoe are Emily’s parents. She’s seven. Book lives on the ninth floor with Anton and Marcus, they’re both ten… twins. Book’s old though, like older than the building. He’s not their dad; he took ‘em in like Genna and you.”

  Maya’s stomach growled. “Book’s a strange name.”

  “He always tells us stories. They’re all in his head, so he’s like a book.” Sarah held up her hands, counting on her fingers as she spoke. “Arlene and Brian live on the third floor. Arlene’s gonna have a baby. Pick, he’s six, lives with his big sister also on the third floor. That new guy Weber is on the fifth. Mr. Barnes is across the hall, and me an’ my Dad are at the end.” She thought for a moment. “Umm. Don’t talk about Fade around Anton and Marcus. Both their parents, uhh, died to it.”

  Maya clenched her fists in her lap. “Okay.”

  Sarah rubbed her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. Hey, did you eat anything?”

  “No.” She stared at the empty kitchen counter. There isn’t even a Hydra.

  “C’mon.” Sarah stood and grabbed Maya’s hand. “I’ll get you some food. It’s kinda random here, but you get used to it. Where us kids eat rotates based on who’s got food to spare.”

  She glanced at the passage to the bedroom where Genna still slept. As uneasy as she felt about being around new people, the woman would be out cold for hours and the apartment contained nothing to eat. Maya got up, followed the other girl out into the hallway, and walked down to the last door before the corridor turned left, near the fire stairs in the corner. Sarah pushed it open and went in.

  The layout appeared similar to Genna’s apartment, though the patio attached to the living room instead of a bedroom, and the kitchen looked much cleaner. A ginger-haired man in his later thirties, wearing a tank top and shorts, sat on the couch, attention glued to some sports thing on the TV involving armored men colliding with each other. Coppery fuzz covered the exposed parts of his pale legs. Maya stared at him as Sarah pulled her to the side and into the kitchen. Something happened on the screen, a change in the pitch of the crowd roar, and the man raised his right arm―a crude metal prosthetic from shoulder to fist. Far removed from what Moth had, it bore no resemblance to the normal silhouette of a human arm. An inch-thick strut with slender hydraulics on the outside and gears that whirred in the three-fingered grippy claw at the end offered the most basic of function.

  Maya gasped and covered her mouth.

  “Dad got lucky,” said Sarah, as she stood on tiptoe to reach into a cabinet over the counter. “He was in the hospital away from his outpost when an enemy missile strike hit.” She slid a plastic plate from the cabinet and walked it to the table. “If he hadn’t lost his arm and been sent to the rear, he’d have been killed.”

  Maya offered an apologetic expression.

  Sarah crouched and opened a cabinet under the sink, from which she took a plastic-wrapped white square. A faint crunch came from it when she squeezed, followed by a weak hiss. Maya stared at the too-white material expanding inside like inflating foam. Sarah peeled the wrapper off and set a sandwich on the plate. The eerie scent of fresh-baked bread wafted from it.

  A quarter-inch-thick slab of some dark yellow substance sat between the two pieces of ‘bread.’ She poked it with one finger.

  “It’s a cheese sandwich.” Sarah slid into the chair catty-corner to Maya. “Dad gets boxes of them from the VA once a month.”

  After a sniff that didn’t smell like anything but bread, Maya lifted the sandwich to her mouth, and hesitated. “This is cheese?”

  “Useless bastard,” yelled The Dad. He lapsed into a coughing fit and threw an empty bottle at the wall. It missed the TV by a few inches and bounced away. “Couldn’t gain yards with a fuckin’ armed escort.” At a buzzer from the TV, he growled and pounded his flesh fist into the seat several times. “Sons ah bitches! Open yer damn eyes!”

  Maya shivered.

  “He’s harmless,” whispered Sarah. “He makes a lot of noise, but he won’t hurt you… unless you’re a piece of furniture or an empty beer.”

  A test nibble of her sandwich confirmed bland but not awful. Sarah remained quiet while Maya ate, idle save for when the man in the living room yelled again.

  “Oi, girl. Grab me another brew
, what?”

  Sarah stood. “‘Kay, Dad.”

  He grunted. “‘Ang on. Belay that. Gotta let the last one out.”

  Maya glanced to her right as he threw his weight forward in an effort to pull himself out of a well-indented spot on the sofa. The spindly metal arm glinted in a thin stream of sunlight coming in from the sliding glass patio doors. Light coppery hair had gone white above his ears, and the stubble around his cheeks resembled cinnamon sugar. He wobbled for a few seconds, managed to pause the TV, and ambled off after smiling at Sarah.

  Something about the man unnerved her. She couldn’t peel her stare from the mechanical arm until he’d moved out of sight behind the wall. Maya took another bite of the cheap cheese and forced it down. Sarah lowered herself onto the seat again, still smiling. Drunk plus cybernetic arm seemed like a dangerous mixture. She ate faster, devouring the last half of the sandwich in three huge bites that gave her hamster cheeks.

  “Come on.” Sarah bounced to her feet. “I’ll show you around.”

  Maya, mouth still full, slid to the edge of her chair and jumped down. Having to deal with other children frightened her less than being around a drunken guy with a metal arm.

  Sarah paused a step past the archway connecting kitchen to living room and leaned to her left. “Goin’ upstairs, Dad.”

  The sound of a stream of liquid hitting water got louder as an unseen door opened. “Be careful.”

  “Will,” yelled Sarah.

  The red-haired girl went out into the hall and to the fire door at the corner. “We always use the fire stairs ‘cause the main stairs stink like a million babies all threw up bad milk at once.”

  Maya cringed.

  She descended one flight to the sixth floor and strolled through an opening missing a door. Junk littered the hallway straight ahead, while to the right it looked abandoned. Thirty or so feet away, the carpet ended at a small rolled-up bit; from there, exposed concrete stretched along below smashed fluorescent bulbs dangling on wires.

  “Don’t go that way.” Sarah pointed right. “It’s not safe. This building was damaged during the war… it’s why there aren’t too many people in it even with cheap rent.” She took three steps forward and paused. “Watch your step. I stepped on a screw once here. It hurt.”

  “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” asked Maya.

  Sarah smiled. “Why aren’t you?”

  “I was kidnapped out of my bed in the middle of the night.” Maya blinked. “But all I have are heels.”

  “Heels?” asked Sarah. “Everyone has heels.”

  “High-heeled shoes.”

  “Huh?” asked Sarah.

  Maya explained.

  “Oh. Those sound annoying.” Sarah’s continuous smile weakened briefly. “Sorry. Umm. Well. His VA pension doesn’t pay much. After rent, his money goes to food and beer. I can get by without shoes, but he can’t get by without his beer.”

  Maya thought back to a dozen pairs of fancy high-heeled shoes on her closet floor. She blinked. “You can’t afford shoes? They can’t cost that much.”

  “‘Bout eight NuCoin… or fifty cans of beer. Rent’s like sixty-five.”

  The girls stepped among old pipes, machine parts, wires, and boxes of circuit boards and unidentifiable metal scraps.

  “They might get stolen too.”

  “Really? By other kids?” Maya hopped over a minefield of nuts, bolts, and screws.

  Sarah shook her head and came to a halt at a door. “No, their parents. Or some doser who wants money for drugs, or someone who just wants to be mean. I was out with Anton and Marcus a couple of weeks ago scavving, and we got robbed. I used to have green camo army pants with all sorts of pockets, but they took everything we found and all of our clothes too.”

  “Why would they steal clothes?” Maya gasped. “You didn’t run?”

  “They had guns, and they’ll take everything they can to sell. Bet they got at least six NuCoin for my pants. That’s enough to get a couple hits of Fume.” Sarah pulled at the fabric of the pitiful garment wrapped around her. “Only a real desperate doser would take this. I made it out of an old curtain I found on the tenth floor. You should be safe too.” She regarded Maya’s nightie. “They won’t steal that rag.”

  Before Maya could decide if she wanted to be terrified or offended her $400 designer nightdress had been dubbed a rag, the door opened. A girl about her size with shoulder-length black hair, green eyes, and pale skin waved at Sarah. Her bone-colored dress looked like something out of a previous century, frilly and with a giant bow tied at the small of her back. She too lacked shoes, though was far cleaner than Sarah and still smelled faintly of soap. The child had an exotic look Maya couldn’t quite place until a Caucasian woman with brown hair in a pixie cut came up behind her.

  “Hi, Sarah. Who’s this?” asked the woman.

  “Lisa. She’s new. Genna’s taken her in.” Sarah looked at Maya. “This is Mrs. Chang and Emily.”

  Emily flashed a huge smile and blurred her right arm back and forth in a wave. “Hi.”

  “Sarah, please call me Zoe.” The woman smiled. “Mrs. Chang makes me feel old.”

  Maya lifted her right hand and offered a weak excuse for a wave. “Hi.”

  Beyond them, the apartment appeared to be a combination workshop/clinic. Their living room held several large folding tables littered with tools and parts on one side. Farther from the kitchen sat a wheeled hospital-style bed and several metal carts with trays as well as a medical computer. All of the equipment looked old and well used.

  “Zoe fixes stuff,” said Sarah. “Mostly the building.

  Why’s she stuck out here if she’s a tech? Maya nodded.

  “Can I play?” asked Emily.

  Zoe squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “Okay. I don’t want you going out of the building, understand?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to change first? That dress is―”

  “No.” Emily pranced into the hall.

  Zoe gave Sarah a meaningful look. “Okay, you girls be careful.”

  “We will,” chimed Sarah and Emily at once.

  As soon as the door closed, Emily looked at Maya. “You don’t talk much.”

  “You talk a lot,” said Maya.

  Sarah laughed and headed for the fire stairs.

  Emily rambled on and on as they walked, explaining how faeries lived in the walls and they talked to her. According to Emily, if the faeries liked you, they’d bring good dreams and ask the rats not to crawl on you at night. “Sarah’s not a faerie, but they’re not mad at her ‘cause people call her that.”

  “Em’s the only one who calls me Sarah.” The older girl picked Emily up to carry her past the minefield of sharp things.

  “Well you’re not a faerie.” Emily folded her arms. “They told me.”

  Maya regarded the girl with confusion. Sarah noticed the expression and gave her a ‘what?’ look. Maya pointed at Emily and twirled a finger at her head. Sarah giggled. She set Emily down at the entrance to the stairs, and the little one zoomed up.

  As the pat of her feet on the concrete steps faded, Sarah leaned over with a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s seven. She makes stuff up. Kids do that.”

  Maya squinted with suspicion. “Why?”

  Sarah seemed sad, a strange reaction as far as Maya was concerned. “Oh, damn. No wonder you aren’t trying to go home.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Maya.

  “You’ve never made up imaginary friends or pretended anything?”

  “No.” Maya thought of the little white dog. It didn’t make much sense how ephemeral the memory of him was. Could she have imagined him? “I don’t think so. How does it work and what’s the point?”

  “You coming?” yelled Emily from overhead.

  Sarah exhaled through fluttering lips. “We have a lot of work to do.” She took Maya by the hand and led her upstairs. “Sounds like you need to learn how to have fun.”

/>   “I used to play video games.”

  “That’s cool. I had a system, but it broke. Zoe’s trying to fix it, but she needs some part she doesn’t have.” Sarah sighed. “I never played it much so I don’t miss it.”

  Maya shrugged.

  Emily waited for them at the landing on the ninth floor, toes hooked over the top step, dress flaring as she spun side to side in an exaggerated display of impatience. They exited the stairwell and walked into a mass of damp air laced with the smell of outside and mold that brought a hand to Maya’s mouth. The carpet squished underfoot, cold and clammy. She went stiff at the sensation like walking over used tissues. Emily held her arm up as if to let a songbird land, though nothing did, and she spoke to thin air about an upcoming party.

  “There’s a big hole in the wall,” said Sarah. “Zoe said if it happened two floors down, the building might’ve fallen over sideways. Since it’s only a ten story, it’s okay.”

  Sarah turned right at the corner, her gait natural as though the ground wasn’t nasty. Emily moved like a rabbit, jumping in short hops and reveling in the squish her feet made on impact. Maya crept after them, disgusted at the clammy, slimy carpet. A little less than halfway down the length of the corridor, the walls ceased existing. Perhaps a third of the floor had been reduced to a single wide-open space interspersed with metal support beams, exposed pipes, and a handful of broken toilets and sinks where apartments had once been. Numerous piles of plaster rubble gathered at regular intervals along the interior wall like swept-up leaves. A stretch of sixty or seventy feet on the right yawned out into the wide open air, except where three thick pipes stood welded in place as emergency supports. About at the middle of the huge open room sat a shallow but wide metal bowl, blackened by fire.

  Maya’s brain replayed her upside down view while tethered to a bed, of Headcrash teetering over and falling off a similar ledge. She clamped onto Sarah without thinking.

  Emily let off a shout of “Hiiiii” as she ran ahead, leaving wet footprints on dusty concrete.