"We're going someplace special, Eng, and could use some backup." She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek.
"For how many?" Eng asked.
"All three of us." Victoria grinned.
"I can offer you a discount on the first, but beyond that, I can't help you." He leaned back and crossed his legs.
"I'm not asking for anything lethal. Just stun guns. Don't be like this."
"Sister," he said. The word crushed into John's heart, and he wanted to know everything about this Eng guy. Who was he? How long had he known her? What business did he have with her? Were they ever together? He wanted the information now. Eng went on. "...stun guns are my most popular buy. From the looks of your friend here, I doubt he has ever been forced to..." Eng said.
"Hey buddy. You don't know me, so don't go assumin'." Neil said in his south Londun slur. If Eng thought he could stand against Neil, he would be dead. Turning the heat up on Neil was never a good idea.
"Victoria darling, would you mind getting this thing to shut up before it gets itself zeroed?" Eng pulled a copper square from his waistband and palmed it.
"Hey boys..." She poked Neil and put her forefinger to his lips. She blinked and spun on the ice. "So I need three screachers or a few better, a compass, and a current map of Londun from here to Labor's Park."
"If you go that way, you'll need a compass and a map."
"Kinda." She picked up a white carrot and fed it to a neo-monkey in a cage beside him. He smiled, bowed, and took the carrot from her before turning away and eating.
"With these two? You'll be robbed and zeroed in less than an hour."
"This little thing is cute, Eng. We'll be proper about it. So how much for your screachers?" Victoria asked.
"I got only one screacher left. They go quick. How long?" Eng asked.
"24 hours," John declared.
"Is it then? So Cadet, what do you hope to do in 24 hours in bloody Labor's Park?"
"We're going to have some fun, Eng." Victoria put her hands on her hips. "So let's get sorted. How much? Also, since you're out, we need something heavier."
"I'll do 50 E on the screacher and 200 E each on the Dockers. Take this map and compass with you. You'll owe me."
She tugged John's sleeve and they backed away.
Giving her a worried look, he peered over her shoulder at the merchant. "We only have 500 between us."
"I brought 100. You guys buy the Dockers, and I'll get the screacher. When we come back, we can sell them back to Eng. Give me your money so I can pay."
Pooling their money, they paid, and received a quick tutorial for their weapons. The Dockers were standard 7-round high-velocity pistols John had mastered in class. The screacher, an energy-powered sonic pistol, had a short range: ten meters, but it had several stun settings and a modded E-port to kill at point blank range.
Climbing over the outer wall, security was absent. They rollicked through a garparl grove and speed hiked through the Lakeside Forest on the north side of the Institute. Victoria told them to stay clear of camping and training sites and guided both of them along through the snow. She stopped and checked the map.
"Okay, when we go through here, you stay close behind me. John, you are on the lookout topside. Scan for rooftops, trees, anywhere where a person might be hiding to throw down an ambush. Neil, I need you on point. At no time should either of you stop moving. The op here is to move through the city, not get caught up in fighting."
"No way around these?" Neil pointed down at four intersections.
"I have been through here a few times. The key is to keep moving."
The streets were crammed with rusted wrecks, many of them in the middle of the street, and every building a skeleton of something long past. Many of them were melted, the Plasstien forming huge blobs of plastic like melted candle wax.
Looking for anything edible, packs of black neo rats scurried in front of them, and John fired off a shot. The sound echoed through the city. Off in the distance, someone shouted for help, and the rattle of automatic gunfire sounds quieted him.
"Okay, go!" Victoria pushed Neil forward, and he dashed to the corner. She maneuvered up to meet him while John covered them, looking to shoot anything that looked at them.
The wind kicked up. A light bulb burst across the street.
They bolted through the city listening to the sounds of survival in Olde Londun. "Help me!" Another victim. Sometimes someone would laugh, and sometimes those laughs were inhuman. Their legs burned from the running, and they tried to remain quiet while tempering their breath.
"How much further?" Neil asked. "I have to take a break. These roads are all uphill."
"No resting. Move out." He pushed Neil this time, shoving him so hard he almost fell over.
Blue neo-SLAT vines torn into the sides of buildings, tearing them down at the foundation, and the scattered rubble remains made the hike slow. Some of the barricades were too dangerous to approach, and John signaled them to follow his lead. Every few blocks Victoria referenced the map to get her bearings and directed Neil towards the next building, but his pace was slowing.
They continued on for another 20 minutes when Neil, still running point, shifted to a wrecked cafe. The sign had taken plenty of small arms fire, and the rest of the building was just P-1 material scattered about. Snow-covered sandbags protected tactical positions near the windows.
Something hard and sharp hit John in the back. He brought the Docker pistol around and pushed back, creating distance. A blow landed across his face and he fell down, hitting his chin on the Plassticrete. A boot stomped on his wrist, and he let go of the pistol. As he was scrambling back up to his feet, another hard blow landed on his eyebrow. His vision was still blurred when he caught another on the back of his head sending him nose diving to the ground. The next blow sent him into black.
15 Dating Rules
Domain of King Edward (D.K.E.)
Year 317
Day 206
"Rosie, Chief Constable Dove does not want you back here for some reason." Reginald said. His dark gray uniform stretched to him, barely holding him inside. Lucky genes, he liked to say.
"Reg, I must look someone up involving my son. The other data readers were nulled out. Do me favor and let me borrow your state card, please."
"Cannot do that. You know what will happen if I do."
Whisking her voice, almost begging him and playing to his weaknesses, and eyeing him for good measure, she opened her mouth ever so slightly. "Why would anyone ask? In fact, stay in the room with me. Keep me company."
"If anything happens, I will likely lose my job. Be quick, please. Sometimes you come in and take your time." Unlocking the door she smiled and entered first. Defeated once again.
Inside the room, private semi-closed E-Reader booths allowed high-ranking members of the E.I.D. to scroll through the E-Network undetected through quantum shielding. The building and the technology wasn't supposed to exist. None of it.
Hanging next to a map of the Kingdom and an old digi-print recruiting poster, a recent painting of King Edward hung, framed next to the tea pantry.
Reginald opened up the State Security Files and stacked the E-cards up, arranging them by date.
"If you need anything, Rosie, I will be outside."
"Thank you. I was thinking about making some tea. Would you like some?"
"That would be great. Remember, be fast. The very, very last thing I need is for Dove to see you with my card."
Collecting the data on Victoria Tesla took over an hour. They were spread about amongst dozens of files and didn't amount to much more than the previous data, maybe about what she had for lunch on Day 061, Year 317. Most of them had missing information or corrupted data nodes. The only complete E-Files would be kept at the Institute, and she didn't possess clearance to go into their file department and start data mining. Contacting the Institute and informing them about this was the only thing left to do.
Taking a break and brewing tea, she prayed
to St. George for good health. "Tea is done," she said, raising her voice just enough.
Reginald reentered and dressed his drink with cream and two cubes of sugar. "You said fast this time."
"I am done. Nothing in here except you and this delicious tea." Playing with him was becoming boring so she leveled up to flirting. His shape was amazing. Only Saxon men came built like that these days. But that nose of his...
"May I ask you something."
"Unload your burdensome questions on poor Rosie," she teased.
"Never mind." He stirred.
"I guess I will ask myself." She took 3 cat steps, swaying her hips closer to him. "Would you like to go out with me and grab a few drinks on the north side? My treat?"
"Are you outrageous? Of course! I have been meaning to ask you for such a long time but thought..."
"Reg, dear. You are cute as a button, but when you come to work, you stink like a Manchester. You cannot smell yourself?"
He bent his head. "Alright. Ten years ago, I was in pursuit of a traitor, and I did not see he was carrying a weapon. When I went to be brave, he blew my nose off. Severed all my nerves. I cannot taste either, I pretend."
"That came out rude." Her light brown hair shimmered under the glowcubes and when he rose his head, she met his glance and wished she'd not brought the subject up.
"No, please. I bet I do reek. The shower here has been broken for years, and the repair orders disappear when I put them in." He held his breath now between speaking.
"Is your shower zeroed?"
"Familiar with the south South Side down on Wax 1 Avenue past the Lionheart Lot?"
"Same place where I bought my autocraft! But... Where do you live?"
He shrugged. He raised his chin to hers. "I will take care of it. The public showers in my zone were attacked. If I could afford to move someplace, I would. Who else has been talking about me? Is that why no one says anything to me when they come in here?"
"You can shower at my place!" And maybe he would have data about Tesla. No risk of being recorded at her home either. "I will cook something, buy us some wine. You will be clean and you will not have to hold your breath to talk." Being so forward gave her an erotic thrill. Breaking taboos was fun. He was getting turned on, too, and she mashed her teeth and tried to pry her eyes away. The bulge was quite impressive.
"Showering at your place would make me nervous. Let me retrieve another uniform from supply and burn these clothes."
"Ha! Do not do that. Nothing a wash will not fix. Be advised, I am a social bore and you have missed nothing." She rolled her eyes and full-smiled at him. Her lips quivered. Oh, say something! "How about I take you to a hotel where you can get showered and cleaned up instead of my place. I could come pick you up in an hour. Afterward, we could have a few drinks at my place over dinner. Cooking is my specialty and we can talk. Sound fun?" She fidgeted and put her hands over her lap.
"Sounds wonderful." He put his hands into his pockets, fumbled and readjusted, and checked the digi-clock on the faded Oracle White wall. "Sorry. A bit nervous here. How about in a few hours? Why not meet outside the front gate at 20:00?"
"I will cook Birmingham sausages tonight. This is awfully ill-advised, but do you eat any Roman food? I have a great vanilla custard side dish that is too much to handle. They stole the recipe from us to be fair. The Romans never invent anything." They both laughed.
"I try to avoid meat; not that I have anything against it. Make me a small portion, please. You said there was something you wanted to talk about?"
"We can talk. Remember when people used to talk to you? I was thinking something similar." Rosie stood up, kept her chair in hand and sat opposite him. "Talk about your neo-cats if you want."
She left him no time to answer, kissed his cheek, and checked out to buy groceries.
Everything, was more expensive, especially at the food market. They wanted .56 E for a standard garparl now. Outrageous! The nasty discount stills on the South Side rose their prices to match. Whatever dripped down from the ceilings made buying from there a risk. But many did because they didn't have a choice—sometimes Rosie didn't have one either.
To make matters even worse, Clarice Hannibal, her usual supplier of nutmeg and cinnamon, had been arrested for prostitution a few days ago and would likely never be seen again in Londun. She lamented the loss. Cinnamon was hard to find and nutmeg harder. She spent the better part of an hour finding a black sugar supplier, but a promise was a promise and without it, the custard wouldn't taste right.
After dropping Reginald off at Irvulin's Inn for him to shower and clean up, she raced home and cooked like Chef Vincetico Lagazzi on her second favorite series, "The Chefs and Their Lovers." She sliced the sausages in perfect wedges and glazed them golden with melted cheddar and non-fat butter. Rosie grabbed a fork and took a few bites. Not bad. She ate the center until the cheddar was gone and remembered the date. No problem.
Taking her dresses down and deciding which one to wear lasted longer than four songs. Rosie decided on something simple: a pink, black, and blood red Ziza dress with a dropped neckline that screamed "Come at me!" Adding a necklace of sapphire pearls completed the outfit. She doubted he would notice or care. Amazing three-color heels matched her dress. She sped over to the hotel and when she arrived a few minutes early, he was already outside. His hair was still wet, combed straight back. Something had changed in his posture, a kind of hot confidence.
He jumped in.
"Before we drive off, I wanted to lay out the ground rules for the evening," she said. She looked straight ahead and inhaled.
"If you feel we need any?"
"Number one: kissing only if teeth are brushed and fresh."
"I had never even considered kissing you this evening. This is only our first date."
"Let me finish. Number two. Some talk of work permitted, but only a little. We should talk about other things, too. Three. No discussion about past loves or sexual experiences. If you had a girlfriend in the past, or a forlorn wife that hates your guts and wants to murder you, tell me later. Four, and this is important to me. Tell me about what you want to do in the future."
He frowned. "Rosie..."
"Five. Light sexual talk is permitted including likes and dislikes but not specifics. All talk must be done in general terms. Six. Do not ask what happened to dinner at my place. This last one is not a rule, but I am worried about my son, and if you can offer any help, I would appreciate it. Okay. Now you can talk."
"I will be on my best behavior whenever I am around you."
They took the Lionheart up to Tiaga's where they waited for over an hour before being seated. Rosie watched Reginald scan the room. She hadn't been here is a while, but obviously this place was new to him.
After looking at the menu, his face became pale. The hologram waiter pretended politeness, waiting to be was addressed. Murmurings and muted voices filled the room along with an ambient a cappella choir singing praises to St. George and the Military Coalition.
Rosie sang along in her head, glaring at Reginald.
He cleared his throat. "I would like to pay here, but I cannot. Is there someplace else we can go where I could pay for us both?"
"Not to worry, Reg. I picked the place so I will pick up the tab."
He pursed his lips in disagreement. "I would rather..."
"Please, Reg." she said showing her teeth. She shrugged. She ordered a Lime Oliver Twist and suggested he try one. He ordered himself a 50ml Londun Sky Ale with a neo-lemon twist instead. Rosie could taste the drink now in her mouth.
A woman wearing a tuxedo, top hat, and cane walked by, set a cube of purple Plasstien on the table and zapped it with the tip of her finger. She produced a bag of Tomato Saxo Pretzels from her food-belt and slipped a Plasstien-1 card on the table and tapped it four times with her forefinger.
Reginald went to grab it, but Rosie palmed it first and dragged it towards her.
"What is that?" He asked.
"That was
a sexual proposal to us both for 400 Edwards. Why, do you have the money? She did not seem too interested in us. Seems she was more about the money. I certainly am not going to pay the 400 Edwards for someone who does not even want to do me for real. What about you?"
"Excuse me." He got up and went to the toilet. Rosie shrugged and threw the card in the recycle bin next to her booth. Men are so simple, sometimes.
He walked easier when he came back, and his hair and face dripped with water. They drank for another two hours, and he was turning sheet white.
"Reg, what is really going on?" She made sure his drink was full and touched his hand. "Is there something you want to tell me? Something I can help you with? If you need help with something, I can help you." She massaged the outside rim of her whiskey glass with her other finger.
"I do not make much money. I do my best, but I would rather not discuss my personal financial problems with you. Okay? You are not supposed to know that about me."
She bobbed her head, agreeing. "Sure, Reg." She shrugged and leaned back. "I do not like seeing you so miserable. I could clean out John's old room. You could move in there. I would not expect you to pay half of everything, but you would be paying something. I could use you around the house. Believe me, Jake Backwater needs a lot of work. You would be earning your keep." She ran her forefinger along his hand, feeling his skin.
"I will think about it. I think I could be liking you, liking you if that makes sense. Wow, I have had a lot to drink. Are you okay to drive? We should call an autocraft to drive us home."
"I am fine. I think my drinks are being watered down." She downed hers in a swallow. "I wanted us to talk a little about some of the things you run across at work."
He shook his head. "Uh huh."
"Have you heard about Victoria Tesla? Remember the bank robberies?"
"No, not really. I think I'm done talking for now. I do not feel well."
She looked at the bartender and winked. He winked back and nodded. "Oh come now. Do not be such a little girl about it. I know you know things."
His face reddened. Rosie glanced at him, but then she gazed at him. He was ready to take her to bed and take her at that moment. Enjoying his gaze, his affections, was delightful. Never before did she feel so wanted and needed. His face was so masculine, and she wanted to be taken right there on the table by him, giving herself over to him. She didn't care, but he had to do it himself. If he would just do it.
The Arkhe Principle (Book Book 1) Page 11