He shook his head side-to-side, spewing foam and warbling nonsense from his lips.
With his lower arms useless thanks to the destroyed ‘street boost’ hydraulics, he proceeded to swing his entire arm at her like a club attached at the shoulder. Risa crouched low to let his attack pass over her head, then leapt up, thrusting her claws under his chin. Eight-inch transparent blades pierced with little resistance. A quick curl of her fingers pulled the blades through material too tough to be biological, likely the uppermost portion of spine, reinforced with metal. She yanked her hand back, leaving four tiny triangular holes in the front of his throat leaking a mixture of blood and milky white liquid, nutrient carrier for Myofiber muscles.
He shuddered on his feet, twitched, and collapsed over like a statue falling off its pedestal. Spasms conjured the image of a short-circuited android. Risa took three steps back and shut down her speedware. Threads of mild pain from hot wires in her arms and legs faded.
The MDF broke cover, except for the woman watching Kree, and ran up on him. Some diverted to check on the motionless officer lying on the ground near the restaurant wall.
One man approached Risa, laser pistol pointed at the aug, but his eyes on her hands. “What the hell did I just watch?”
Risa retracted her claws. “The spine felt like metal. His brain’s probably not dead yet, though I think it was more or less mush to begin with.”
“Who are you?”
“A concerned citizen who happened to have the right tools.” She smiled and strode to the car where she’d left Kree. “Excuse me, my daughter…”
The officer followed. “You can’t just walk into the middle of an active crime scene and… and… do that, and then walk away like you dropped off a cake.”
“Your people looked like they were in deep shit. The guy had diffusive armor and I didn’t see anyone whipping out a vibro-sword and going toe to toe with him. I have a soft spot for MDF officers, since I’m in love with one.” Risa reached for Kree. The girl squirmed in the female officer’s grip. “Thanks for keeping her safe. Do you mind letting her go now?”
No need to worry, said the voice of Raziel. If they run records, they will find your daughter.
She tensed.
“Not so fast, Miss.” The man who’d followed her held up his forearm and tapped at a holo-panel floating over it.
“Risa Tanais.” She tapped her foot. “I can’t answer your questions, officer. All I can say is I work for the government.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What branch?”
Risa winked. “Logistics.”
Understanding flashed in his eyes. He leaned back and waved at the other officer to let the girl go. “Thanks for the assist. That would’ve been a huge mess.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kree held her hands up like claws and shouted, “Speeware!”
“Cute,” said the female officer.
Risa held Kree’s hand and walked across the street to add distance from the crippled psycho.
“What was that, Barnes? You just let that woman walk?” asked the woman, evidently thinking Risa couldn’t hear.
“Don’t worry about it. She’s either Spec Ops or C-Branch. Nothing you want to stick your head into.”
“You got all that from fuckin’ ‘logistics?’ Seriously?” The woman sounded upset.
“Well that, plus military-grade reflex boosters, Nano claws, the surgical takedown. What’s your opinion? Extreme babysitter?”
“Fuck you, Barnes.”
“I thought you’d never ask, Gomez.”
A muted thud of armored fist striking armored body followed.
Risa laughed. They walked the last mile enjoying a beautiful day. When the building came into view, she turned her attention to the girl at her side. “See that tower up ahead? We’re going to live there for a while.”
“How long?” Kree kicked a small rock. “I don’t ever wanna go in the dark again.”
A lump formed in her throat. Risa squeezed her hand as she approached the main entrance. “Neither do I, kiddo. Neither do I.”
20
Nascent Normal
Bucking metal under Risa’s boots swayed from side to side. Distant explosions pounded shockwaves along the disintegrating strand spanning the Melas Chasma. A small one-man fighter craft hovered ten feet away, like some precarious platform from a video game. Without thinking, Risa leapt for it. Time froze, leaving her hanging in midair reaching for the arrowhead-shaped flying craft. The far-off buildings and spires of Bliss shone like a gathering of ice at the top of the ridge, lit blue by puffs of Cryomil flames blasting chunks out of the stone. Hundred-story buildings crumbled and fell like a mass culling of a plastisteel forest.
The crystal castle collapsed in slow motion.
Her refuge, the small aircraft, slid backward out from under her―of course, the pilot should have been able to avoid her with ease―and she fell into the open sky, windmilling her arms and screaming along an eleven-kilometer fall. Huge flaming metal chunks surrounded her on the way down. From her position far above the ground, the colony at the canyon’s bottom resembled a scattering of ice cubes on dirt.
I’m dreaming! Air refused to enter her lungs. Eyes closed, she tried to gain enough control of her spiraling fear to imagine herself winged. Dreams could do that. As soon as a person realized they dreamed, they could take control.
At least that’s what she’d read.
She opened her eyes to find a settlement of drop box buildings racing toward her, only seconds before she crashed into the crimson ground. Despite the tremendous boom of her body striking the canyon floor, it hurt no worse than if she’d fallen out of bed. Stunned relief lasted seconds before a massive hunk of debris smashed into the ground nearby. Risa curled into a ball on her side, screaming as pieces of the Strand came down like meteors on all sides. Buildings flattened like empty synthbeer canisters under the tires of a prowler. Shrieks from panicking citizens cut off to silence as they perished under a pelting rain of debris.
A gentle howl of wind broke the subsequent silence, accented by a fluttering of metal. She pushed herself up to sit and found herself at the base of a shallow crater. That she’d struck the ground with the force of a meteor and survived brought her mind to a stop. I’m still dreaming. Squinting at the sunlight glinting from the debris, she gazed around at utter ruin. The twisted remains of drop box pods lay scattered around, half-inch thick plastisteel ripped apart as though an enormous dog had shredded giant takeout food cartons.
Moans emanated from the wreckage. Flaps of Epoxil boards, metal plates, and cloth curtains parted as bodies crawled free from the site of their deaths. A thousand bloody, mangled people dragged themselves toward her. Risa leapt to her feet and started to run, but stalled in her tracks as forty or fifty small glops of gore slid out from under a piece of crushed building and recombined into an almost-human shape. The man’s right arm reached out, tipped with what had been his left hand.
Risa screamed, and backed away―into the grasping arms of the angry dead.
She snapped awake on the floor of her new bedroom. Cool air clung to a beige carpet shaded pale orange from the glow of the city outside. Heavy tint could only do so much. Covered in sweat, she shivered and wrapped her arms around her legs. Even with the windows as dark as they could go, years of living underground made Arcadia’s night seem bright as day.
After a few minutes, the inhuman sounds of shambling corpses faded into the recesses of her mind. She slid one hand down her shin and covered her numb toes. Her hair clung to her back, sticky with perspiration. Damn. She rested her head against her knees until the shaking stopped, and stood.
“Climate, seventy.”
A chirp sounded from nowhere in particular. Within a few seconds, the layer of cold over the carpet changed to a warmer breeze. For a while, she stared at the outer wall, composed of four window panels of half-inch-thick transparent aluminum between inch-wide plastisteel beams. Variable tint could make them as d
ark as sunglasses or so clear they almost vanished. Outside, Arcadia swam with advert bots, a smattering of hovercars, and millions of winking lights from windows, streetlamps, and holograms.
Do I belong in this place? She watched things fly around until the clammy wetness around her body became intolerable.
She peeled off her T-shirt and sweat-soaked panties on the way to the small, attached bathroom. Modern conveniences that even the lower end of middle class took for granted felt strange and extravagant, as if she’d stolen luxury from a world she’d disavowed. A boxy white appliance mounted to the wall left of the sink accepted her underthings via a hatch at the top. Soon, the scent of fabric softener filled the room as it cleaned them. She stepped into the autoshower tube to freshen up. A metal ring around the outside descended, spraying her with a hot water/soap mixture. She stood still, letting the machine work until the hot air dry cycle completed about fifteen minutes later.
The bottom end of the white box offered a clean, new, and plastic-wrapped set of panties, but she still hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of wearing them. A handful of purchases on the spur of the moment provided some necessities to the unlived-in space, one of which had been underpants. Garrison hadn’t even loaded the machine on the wall with briefs.
Risa headed back into the bedroom and claimed a knee-length black shirt from the dresser. After fluffing her hair out of the collar, she padded down the hall to Kree’s room. The girl sprawled over a full-size twin Comforgel pad in a pose more befitting a college student after a late-night drinking binge than a six-year-old. Mouth agape, one arm dangling over the edge, more sheet on the floor than the bed, Kree had elevated sleeping to an extreme sport.
Wow. The kid sleeps hard. Guess she’s making up for lost time.
Risa clung to the doorjamb, smiling. How many nights had she been unable to sleep out of fear? For the first few months after Garrison took her off the street, Risa slept in the ventilation duct connected to his room. Kree’s sanctuary of choice was a spot under the bed in their room on Death Row. Risa bit her lip, wondering if the child in front of her had found the streets as terrifying as she did. It had to be worse for her. At least I was two years older. Watching Kree sleep so soundly stirred a mixture of relief and guilt. They hadn’t been the apartment for long at all, yet the girl felt safe enough to truly rest.
The smiling face she first saw in the mine tunnel had been hiding so much fear. She knew the game. Act cute and happy and people feed you. Unease fluttered in her gut at the thought of being responsible for a small life. I hope you made the right choice picking me, kid. Risa crept over and lifted Kree off the edge, setting her on her back under the sheets. She planted a light kiss on her forehead before backing out.
Two weeks in this place and we’ve traded places. She sleeps like the dead and I’m up all night with horrible dreams. She chuckled without making noise on her way to the kitchen. Better me than her.
The reassembler produced a no-caffeine mint tea, which she carried to her bedroom. Risa reclined on a cushioned bench running the length of the massive window, back to the plastisteel wall on the left. She covered herself to the waist with a fuzzy maroon blanket, tucking it around and under her feet before cradling the tea.
Her mind couldn’t decide what to worry about most between a splinter faction of C-Branch hostile to the MLF, whatever Everett was gearing up to do, what Raziel would ask her to do, or if any of the hundreds of horrible things she’d done in the name of ‘freedom’ would come back to bite her on the ass. Not to mention, she still owed Heitzenroeder a favor … and had a feeling Raziel would expect her to continue doing whatever he demanded of her.
When the tea ran out, she leaned her head back against the wall and stared at the innocuous white box that had arrived via delivery bot her second day here. She hadn’t ordered anything, but when she went to refuse it―suspecting an attack―Raziel whispered in her mind, reassuring her that he had sent it.
Curiosity got the better of her. She set the empty mug down on a little glass table and clambered out of the blanket. The potato-sized box contained a block of black foam. She withdrew it and pulled it apart into unequal halves. Embedded within the larger chunk sat a black metal device about the size of her thumb, an aerodynamic style with a slight curve. A flat pad along one side and its general shape hinted that the device should sit above the right ear. The front end had five tiny lenses: two clear, one yellow, one red, and one opaque silver.
“How the hell is this thing supposed to stay on? It’ll fall off if I walk too fast.”
She pulled her hair back and tucked it where it felt natural. A strange tingle, not quite painful but also not exactly pleasant spread over the skin it touched. The word ‘calibrating’ appeared midair, followed two seconds later by ‘Charge: 18%.’ Whatever it did, the device appeared to have adhered to her and auto-linked to her headware. A test pull convinced her it would take skin with it before it let go, likely the same micro-hook tech that kept those impossible (and impossibly expensive) dresses on celebrities.
“Ow. Son of a bitch.”
Beep.
Text scrolled across her vision.
New component detected. Install?
“Sure, why not.” She thought ‘yes.’
Starpoint Corporation EVM-300 driver download complete.
All text vanished. A few seconds later, a large paragraph appeared, explaining the hardware was classified technology issued under license to authorized operators in the employ of various United Coalition Front agencies. Failure to secure the proprietary technology within would result in severe penalties… blah blah.
She thought-clicked the ‘acknowledge’ button.
IR Nightvision. After three seconds, Online appeared.
The mode, a short delay, and confirmation repeated four more times.
Metallurgical… Online.
Motion Sense… Online.
Optical Zoom… Online.
Thermal… Online.
Risa felt a twinge of excitement, then hated herself for it. Raziel had given her the means to return to full operational capacity, but she didn’t want to do that. A couple hundred-thousand credit component stuck to her head felt like a ten-pound leash chaining her to a violent, unpredictable death.
She closed her eyes and thought about the Wraith. Grey wispy shapes appeared in the endless darkness as she moved. Her old friend, the electronics that allowed her to see without any light, had returned.
I guess if I’m going to be threatened into working for him, I might as well stack the odds in my favor. She scratched at her stomach, worrying what would happen if she said no. Would he piss and moan, but leave? Would he be spiteful and rearrange records so the government took Kree away? Would he arrange an advert bot to fall from the sky and crush her? She’d put her life in his hands so many times, such total trust thinking he was of the divine, but he’d lied to her from the start.
A few virtual menus later, she located the release button. According to the help menu, thousands of nanofilament wires extended into her skin from the EVM-300, ensuring it would stay on even in the roughest battlefield conditions. A thought-click, followed by an ‘are you sure’ later, it shut down and detached. Risa rubbed the skin over her ear. Peeling it off didn’t hurt, but a few seconds after she removed it, mild soreness pervaded the spot.
After setting up the charging cradle, she flopped back on her bed. Maybe she could test the waters. She didn’t have to obey him slavishly anymore. If what he asked didn’t involve bombs or assassination, maybe she would humor him after all. Not like I’ve got any other real skills. She sighed. I hope he saves the risky shit for after Kree’s old enough to look after herself.
Risa moaned at the press of a hand on her back. Somehow, the wall had gone from dim orange to bright white. She remained face down on her Comforgel pad in the same pose she remembered flopping in, though it didn’t feel much like she’d slept.
“Rough night?” asked Pavo.
She smiled and rolled
onto her back. Pavo hovered over her, dressed in a Defense Force uniform that looked too clean to be duty wear. “Dress reds?”
“I’m due at the Arcadia Command Barracks in about an hour and a half. Nothing to worry about; local brass wants to sniff me out before deciding on my transfer request.”
Risa sat up and hugged him. “Maybe I’ll be able to sleep through the night once you’re here.”
He held her for a moment. “You sure everything’s okay? It’s not like you to be the girl who needs a man to protect her. If I remember things right, it’s usually you saving my ass.”
“Heh.” She slid to her feet and kissed him. “Nothing wrong with wanting to surrender for a little while. Hypervigilance is exhausting.”
“Nightmares?” He threaded his arms around her and kissed her again.
“Yeah. I think it’s all the stress. I’m dreading what’s coming.”
Pavo feigned hurt. “Well, if you don’t want me to move in…”
She jabbed him in the side. “I mean with Everett.”
“Well. Since you’re feeling like a damsel right now…” Pavo picked her up and carried her out into the hall.
Risa kicked her feet and overacted the rescued princess. He walked her to the kitchen and set her in a chair by the table. Kree beamed as they entered. The huge grin on her face, and seeing her barefoot made Risa choke up. She’d gotten over her thing with those moon boots. Back in the safehouse, the child had complained about having to take them off even long enough to shower. On their third day here, the girl seemed to lose interest in them entirely. She’d been stuck without shoes on the streets. Her possessiveness toward the boots had made total sense: she likely feared one of the other kids would steal them if she took them off. Perhaps the apartment had given her a sense of security.
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