Zero Rogue

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Yes,” said Aaron.

  The car lurched into the road, pulling a one-eighty with squealing tires and racing off to the north. Aaron couldn’t help but notice her nervous shivering; the unforgiving plastic seat transferred it from ass to ass. Quiet lasted all of two minutes.

  “Who was that?”

  “One of my former superiors.”

  “Your captain?”

  “No.”

  “Lieutenant?”

  “No.”

  She looked at him. “Aaron.”

  “That was Mikhail Kovalev, Division 0 Regional Commander, West City.”

  A sound like a drop-kicked rat came out of her. She clamped her hands over her mouth.

  “He’s a friend. I was high profile when I came over from London, and he took me under his wing. I had some anger management issues to work on. Being forced into police work wasn’t my idea, but it did sort of grow on me eventually. Would you believe I was once a bit of a prima donna?”

  “You?” She blinked. “No.”

  “Now that sounds like sarcasm. So where are we going?”

  “The facility. You should meet the others.”

  “Guess the little one doesn’t want to play with the Awakened?” He shifted, searching for a way to sit that didn’t transmit every bump to his tailbone.

  “No, she’s a little cheesed off at us. Archon in particular.”

  “She’s awakened though, right? Accelerated Healing is a documented talent, though aside from her, it’s not known to be able to work on anyone other than the person using it.”

  “Aye. She is.”

  “So what’d your old man do to get her angry?”

  “Oh, nothing much… influenced some mercenaries to dart her in the ass, stuffed her in a box for a six-hour ride away from her family, and kept her locked in a room in a big, scary abandoned nuclear power station. She also got rather cross with me for ruining this pitiful skirt she had made of scraps. Bloody thing fell to bits when I tried to clean it. Gave ’er a clean, new dress, but you’d have thought I strangled her puppy.” Anna waved her hand around. “The man couldn’t see her as a person capable of making decisions. Treated her like a helpless little child that needed daddy to come in and save her from the cold, cruel world.”

  Aaron didn’t say it, but the look in his eyes did.

  Anna went florid crimson and glared at the window away from him. “It wasn’t like that at all. He didn’t force me to do anything. You know what it’s like in London, for people like us. Not everyone’s a bloody celebrity. I fell, Aaron. I fell hard.” She sniffled. “I don’t fancy talking about it.”

  “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”

  Anna softened.

  “He certainly seems to be the trusting sort.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?” She squinted.

  “No.” He smiled. “Just wondering how territorial he gets since we’ve been spending a rather lot of time together without adult supervision.”

  “He’s quite busy. Besides, he knows nothing could happen between me and an Arsenal wanker.” She folded her arms. “I’m not a cheat.”

  “Wanker? I thought I’d been promoted to twat.”

  She jabbed him in the side with a finger.

  “Ouch.” He laughed for a tick, before giving her a serious stare. “I’m not sure I quite trust him. I wasn’t a cop for all that long, but something seems off about the man. Whenever I mention him, you get that far off look in your eyes.”

  She leaned into him as the car pulled a hard right and plunged into a PubTran-only access tube with a loud whoompf. Rumbling shook the roof as the tiny top wheels made contact with plastic. He grunted at the near vertical ascent to The Highway and smiled at her lack of effort to avoid contact. Acceleration pinned them to the seat like a fighter aircraft in a hard climb. Two hundred feet of sealed tube blurred by with an eerie pneumatic whirring noise. Eight seconds later, the car reached the end. Speed imparted a few inches of air when ramp became flat road. Sparks flew as it settled into the half-width exclusive lane, barely big enough for the automatic taxi.

  “Bugger.” Aaron rubbed his backside. “For what they charge for these blasted things, you’d think they could afford cushions.”

  “Supplemental comfort enhancers are optional for an additional twenty credits,” said an electronic voice.

  “James is driven to save psionics from ignorant fools. He sometimes loses himself in his work and can come off a bit impolite.”

  “Aye. Abducting children is rather rude, isn’t it, and there you go again with the doe-eyed stare.”

  She punched him in the arm. “Come off it.”

  “I’m not getting the same sort of feeling from you, Anna.” He waved his NetMini at the center console, paying for the ‘supplemental comfort enhancer.’

  “Please stand a moment,” said the electronic voice.

  As soon as they got up, an eruption of thick, beige foam sprayed from nozzles on both sides, covering the seat with a glistening gelatinous mass. The glop hissed and bubbled, flooding the cabin with eye-watering fumes; dullness spread from the edges toward the center, and it puffed up.

  “Please sit,” chirped the cab.

  Anna gave him a ‘you first’ look. Aaron eased his weight down, finding the not-quite-sticky surface neither as nasty as he expected nor as comfortable as he hoped. Still, the mystery substance had formed enough padding to make the ride bearable. The lingering chemical odor, he could’ve done without. Anna sat at the edge, as if afraid to let her entire body touch the ‘cushion.’ Her expression reminded him of someone with an unpleasant task ahead of them they couldn’t avoid and didn’t want to do.

  “Something wrong?”

  She picked at her nails. “No. You just got me thinking about Althea. When we had her, it was the one time I remember really disagreeing with James. He focused entirely on what he wanted to accomplish, and that little girl was so pathetic and sad. I… I didn’t want to be mean to her. I tried to be nice, but she hated us.” Anna wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward. “I felt like such an ogre. She reminded me of someone I knew back in London.”

  “Younger sister?”

  “Something like that.”

  Aaron considered taking her hand, but decided against it. “Archon seems like a block of sour coated in a bit of sweet.”

  She flashed a wistful smile. “Perhaps.”

  An earnest smile spread across his lips. “You, I think, are the reverse.”

  nna refused to look at him for ten minutes. He pressed his fingers into the wonderful butt-preserving ooze between him and the infernal plastic bench. The ghost of his touch faded away as the foam eased back to its prior shape within seconds of his letting go. He pressed down again and watched the indentations fade. Amid the awkwardness in the taxi, it provided a welcome mindless distraction. Sway imparted to the little wheeled box from private cars blurring past at more than double their speed had gone from scary to relaxing.

  “Aaron?” she whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ve been wondering something.”

  He leaned closer, feeling a bit of a rush. “What’s that?”

  “When you went after that assassin”―he slouched, disappointed―“you had that girl shadowing you on the ’net, right?”

  “Aye. She’d gotten me through the locks, masked the security feeds. We’re clean.”

  Anna looked at him. “Why didn’t she disable the sleep gas or turn the lights back on?”

  He gawked at her as though she’d slapped him.

  “I―” Aaron took out his NetMini and tried to call Shimmer. It rang to vid mail. He ended the call and tried twice more. “Bollocks.”

  “Think she sold you out?”

  “I don’t think so…” He eyed the device in his hand, unable to shake a building sense of worry.

  Seconds before he tried to call her again, the NetMini chirped. The icon for a text message floated above it, a blue c
oin emblazoned with the image of an envelope. He gestured as if to grab it and the messaging terminal panel unfolded in midair. A bright green square contained a ‹1› in the top left corner by the word ‹new›. When he poked it, a black window appeared with green text.

  ‹Help. They found me. This is an automatic message sent via deadman program.›

  “What the devil…?” Anna leaned in.

  Aaron’s eyes roamed in circles. “Deadman switch… usually cuts off a machine if you let go of it. Program? Shit, she must’ve set up a distress call to send itself automatically if she didn’t hit a button every so often.”

  “Who? She?”

  Aaron didn’t have time to wonder if an almost-undertone of jealousy in her voice came from her or merely his hope. He looked at his NetMini, noting the time. “PubTran, change course. Go to Sector 10302, Happy Panda Noodle Bar.”

  “Course change to closer destination results in new, lesser trip fee of two hundred thirty-two credits. Do you accept?”

  “Yes, yes. Bloody fuck, yes. An extra hundred credits if you get there fast.”

  “PubTran Corporation does not authorize unlawful operation of―”

  “Five hundred.”

  The car shut up and managed to get up to a hundred and sixty. Rattles and taps emanated from everywhere, even parts of the roof that had nothing apparently to rattle or tap. Cars streaking by along the inside lanes had become distinct vehicles rather than blurs of color.

  Anna closed her eyes. “Shit, shit shit shit. What crazy bollocksed up thing are you doing now?”

  “The Syndicate’s got Shimmer. They’re going to kill her.” He punched the seat. “I… I’ve gotta do this. Stay with the cab, and go somewhere safe.”

  “The hell I will. Aaron, the last time you ran off on your own you got turned into Arsenal wanker sushi.”

  “How much do you care if a cop sees your face?”

  She lost what little color she had in her cheeks. “I…”

  “It’s fine. Stay with the PubTran.”

  Anna picked at the fabric of her leggings where it bunched at her knees.

  “Archon wouldn’t want you getting seen. This is my mess. Sons of bitches must have somehow followed me there.”

  “Aurora found her for you. It’s our mess too.” She put a hand on his arm. “I’m going with you.”

  Six minutes later, the little PubTran car slammed on its brakes amid a busy street full of cars and pedestrians. The architecture on both sides resembled thousand-year-ago-China carved out of a stage set and pasted to the lower four floors of skyscrapers. Above that, the usual plain silver high-rises continued. Wires strung across the road at the level of the second story held dangling round paper lanterns decorated with pictograms. Some pedestrians dove to the ground as a reflex to the sound of hard braking. Two corporate-looking men in long coats pulled pistols, aiming at the PubTran.

  Aaron and Anna wound up on all fours, barely avoiding a face-first meeting with the dashboard. The door popped open.

  “Thank you for using PubTran. Travel time: four minutes thirty-two seconds.”

  “Aye.” Bloody murderous machine. He crawled out and stood on wobbly legs.

  Anna followed.

  The two men lowered their weapons and walked off.

  “Last chance,” said Aaron.

  She gave him a stern look.

  He pointed. In front of a building faced with an orange and brown recreation of ancient pagoda construction, beneath the glow of a twelve-foot-tall dancing holographic panda, sat a Division 0 patrol craft. Half its armored bulk intruded upon the sidewalk, bottlenecking pedestrian traffic down to two bodies’ width. A middle-aged man in a panda costume stood with a sign at the street corner. Despite the smile molded into his panda-head hat, his real face had a ‘someone shoot me’ expression. He offered the pair an unenthused wave.

  “Every day around now, Ridge is here having dinner. He’s addicted to whatever they put in their ramen.”

  “Can you trust him?”

  “Probably. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Probably.”

  He wasted no more thought on it. A minute’s delay could kill a nineteen-year-old girl. Tactical Officer Vernon Ridge nearly choked on his food when Aaron tapped on the opaque armored panel where a window should be. On the inside, electronics made it a window. Aaron waved at the tiny hole containing a lens. The inch-thick armored panel motored its way into the door, letting the smell of hot soup waft out.

  “Fuck me…” Noodles hung off the bottom lip of a man who could stand to lose about ten pounds. “Pryce?”

  “No thanks, mate. I need a favor.”

  “Are you fucking nuts?” He slurped the danglers in and swallowed. “Half the goddamn city is trying to find your ass. You come walkin’ right up to me? You shouldn’t be able to walk with balls that big.”

  “Ridge, there’s a girl’s life at risk. I don’t have time to explain. You know me, Vern. You know it was compulsion.” He grasped the door in both hands, summoning his most convincing, pleading stare. “Oi, where’s your charming partner?”

  “Nuñez is flying a desk. Somethin’ about needing time to deal with whatever your little girlfriend did to her.”

  Anna folded her arms, smirking.

  “Not now, mate. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

  “Man…” Ridge stabbed his chopsticks into the bowl. “If I get busted down to TO1 for this, I’m gonna kick your ass. Whadda ya got?”

  “Nineteen-year-old, Lily Braddon.”

  “I know I’m psychic, but I need more than that. You got a picture for a Citycam sweep? PID? Address, anything?”

  Aaron paced, growling. “Dammit, no. Just an anonymous text, which I’m sure she bounced around a million relays.”

  Ridge slurped two mouthfuls of noodles while Aaron stewed in circles. “Hey, sorry man. You know how it is. Justice is only for the wealthy.”

  Aaron whirled on his ex-partner fast enough to make the man spray broth on the dashboard and reach for a sidearm. “Wealthy.”

  “I’m clean, bastard. I ain’t gonna take no bri―”

  “No. She was wealthy. Her father was an executive for Chrysalis Corporation. She’s gotta have a chip. Run Lily Braddon through the system.”

  Ridge slurped broth from the bowl balanced in his left hand while poking his way around the KidTrak database. “Yeah, you’re right. Good instinct. She got tagged sixteen years ago. Got a signal on it too, looks like Sector 10192, right by the wall.”

  “I need another fav―”

  “No fuckin’ way man. Just talkin’ to you without trying to bring you in could get my ass fired, or charged.”

  “Ridge, please trust me.”

  “Aaron, you know I―”

  “I could ‘steal’ your car.’”

  Officer Ridge whined. “That’s such an assload of reports to fill out.”

  “I could really steal it.”

  Ridge gave him the sort of look the wimpy kid gives the bully before the beating: faint hope that maybe today they’d get a pass.

  “Come on, Ridge. They’re going to kill her.”

  “Fine.” He shoveled great mouthfuls of noodles, broth, and shrimp into his face.

  Aaron ran around to the passenger side and hopped in. Anna slipped into the back.

  Ridge brought the car’s drive system online. “So, who’s the girl?”

  “You’ll live longer not knowing,” said Aaron, deadpan.

  Ridge turned white.

  “I’m kidding. Go!”

  The patrol craft leapt straight up, knocking at least twenty people to the ground amid sparking tendrils of ionic downblast. Anna slid across the bench seat in back and smacked into the window as Ridge pulled a stiff turn to face east. Within seconds, he’d gotten up past three hundred miles per hour.

  “No lights or sirens. They see that coming, they’ll kill her if she isn’t already dead.”

  Ridge nodded to the terminal pane.
“Vitals are still showing from the KidTrak.”

  “Those things transmit vitals?” Aaron looked at it. All it displayed was body temperature, which had a green icon by it. “Body temp. Doesn’t mean she’s still alive.”

  “Hey.” Ridge let go of the sticks long enough to shrug. “I’m just trying to be an optimist here.”

  Within three minutes, the eastern edge of the city came into view. The massive wall that dominated most of its length towered over the buildings in its shadow. Dusty brown scrubland stretched as far as they could see into the desert of what used to be called Nevada. Ridge steered a few blocks south and came in low. The desert vanished behind the wall as ground wheels extended with a low mechanical whirr, locking out with a heavy clunk that jolted the frame. The instant rubber touched plastisteel, Aaron shoved the gull wing door up and jumped out.

  “That one there.” Ridge pointed at a five-story cube of a building that appeared ready to collapse from wind force alone.

  “I owe you.” Aaron patted the roof twice.

  Ridge glared at him, shook his head, and pulled off into the sky. Aaron jogged up to the corner of the building, slowing to a creep as soon as he got close against the wall.

  No guards outside?

  Anna’s voice in his mind almost made him yell. He spun around to make eye contact. That would attract attention.

  He snuck to a twisted mass of aluminum that used to be the front door of some kind of professional building. Debris of walls, furniture, and forty-year-old medical equipment littered the otherwise empty hallway. Aaron stepped past the smashed entryway, buoyed on by the echo of voices from deeper inside. Anna followed, taking a little longer to get around the scrap metal in the foyer.

  “Was great doin’ business with ya, man.” Darwin’s voice echoed over the room.

  Aaron’s heart stopped for a moment. Anger and anxiety built in his hands, making them twitch. He lost some care, moving at a normal walk to where light leaked out of a rotting pair of wooden doors. Whoever used to own this office had money, the wood was real―and moldy. He stopped breathing to tolerate having his face against it and peered through an old shotgun hole.

  The room inside had been long-ago gutted, reduced to naked wall spurs and steel I-beams along the ceiling. A fat man with medium-dark skin stood behind a banged-up metal desk, wearing a black suit that oozed Syndicate. He shook hands with Darwin who grinned at something small in his grasp, no doubt a cred stick with more money on it than the man had ever seen in one place.