“I’m old enough,” she says. It’s a feeble comeback, but it’s hard to think of anything better while she’s in irons.
“What’s a girl like you doing so far from home?”
“Checking up on a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends here, girl.”
“How about you skip to the part where you say what you want.”
“I don’t want anything. I’d have killed you the moment Hitter brought you in, but I wanted to know more about how you came to be here first.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious. Hitter ditched me in Haiti so I was trying to pick up his trail. Then the bastard ambushed me with a dart.”
“You didn’t come here on your own. What are your little friends up to?”
“I don’t have any friends. Not anymore.”
The bastard sucker punches her in the stomach. She can’t even double over, not chained up like this. All she can do is groan and then spit at his feet. This only prompts him to punch her again. “Mind that mouth of yours, girl.”
“I told you: I don’t have any friends.”
“Not even General Amis and her merry band?”
“Especially not her. Not after what she did to Diane.”
This time it’s Hitter who punches her, though she relieved that it’s not quite as hard. “I told you there’s no Diane,” he growls.
“Maybe you should get on Google. There have to be about a billion pictures of us when we saved the world. You jerks do get the Internet out here, don’t you?”
Hitter punches her again. She really needs to work on her people skills. That probably won’t matter in a few minutes when they kill her.
The big man steps closer to her. “Start talking or I’ll put a bullet in your stomach and you can stay up here until you bleed out.”
“I didn’t come here with that lying cunt Melanie Amis,” Tonya says. “I came here on my own. That’s the truth.”
The big man takes a pistol from its holster. She knows it’s an optical illusion that the barrel looks as big around as her head. She wishes she had her armor, or at least her ion rifle, the one that Hitter stole.
The big man jams the gun into Tonya’s stomach. She can feel him tightening on the trigger, but then Hitter grabs his arm. “Hold up, mate. I got a better idea. This kid is a wizard with machines. You could use someone like that in the factory.”
“I’d rather kill her.”
“Come on, mate. A few days in that place and she’ll tell you anything you want. Plus she can increase your efficiency. Get us out of this sweltering hellhole that much quicker, yeah?”
“Good thinking,” the big man says. To Tonya’s relief he pulls the gun back and then holsters it. He cups her chin in one grimy hand. “The guards would probably like some white meat anyhow.”
“There you go.”
As they laugh, Tonya wonders if it might be better for them to kill her now rather than drag it out. She wishes she had one of those cyanide capsules like in the movies. Melanie can probably hook her up with one of those, providing she gets out of this, which seems unlikely.
“Take her over to her new home,” the big man says.
“Sure thing, mate,” Hitter says. He tosses a mock salute as the man walks away. Once the man is gone, Hitter’s eyes narrow. “You’re damned lucky to still be alive.”
“I’m not sure about that, but thanks for saving me.”
“I’m not saving you. I want out of this place and you can make that happen quicker.”
“It could happen a lot quicker if you’d let me use a radio. I’m sure if I tell them how you saved me, they’ll go easier on you.”
“Don’t start with me, girl.” He brushes his jacket aside so she can see his gun holster. “Much more of that mouth and I’ll shoot you myself.”
Tonya knows this is one of those times when it’s better to say nothing, as difficult as that is for her. She lets Hitter unlock the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. She falls off the wall, but he catches her enough to keep her on her feet. For a moment she’s pressed close to him. As different as his body might be right now, she still feels the same comforting warmth of Diane’s body when they slept together.
The moment ends quickly, as he shoves her forward. “Get moving, kid.”
She staggers forward, but looking back over her shoulder, she sees a faint hint of Diane in the man’s eyes. Maybe she’s still in there somewhere. If so, Tonya needs to find a way to unlock those memories before it’s too late.
***
It takes Kila only two hours to get across the Atlantic in her magic bubble. She meets Melanie at the entrance to the Peacekeeper office in Kolwezi. Melanie shakes the Peacekeeper’s purple hand and then shows her into Dward’s office. Kila barely shows any reaction upon seeing the body. “This is most unfortunate,” she says.
“Any idea who could do this?”
Kila says nothing. Instead she takes out her black metal staff. This she waves over the puddle of goo that remains of Dward. Melanie hadn’t realized the staff could work like a tricorder on Star Trek; it’s a fact to file away for later.
“It does not appear he was killed by anything magic.”
“So that rules out a Peacekeeper staff?”
“Yes.”
“How about an imitation Peacekeeper staff?”
Kila considers this for a moment. “I cannot be certain about that. I would need to examine such a weapon first.”
“It seems like a plausible scenario,” Melanie says. “There aren’t any bullet holes in the walls. No sign of anything bigger like a rocket launcher. And since that thing didn’t have a neck, I doubt it could have been strangled.”
Kila nods. “A Bogterian is not easy to kill. It is part of the reason Dward was assigned to this unstable region.”
“Any chance of suicide?”
“That seems very unlikely.”
“I know, but it would make things simpler.”
“You believe Commander Dward was conspiring to create Peacekeeper weapons for humans?”
“It’s possible. Diane disappeared in this region and he was in charge of it.”
“That seems a tenuous connection.”
“Someone was trying to make imitation Peacekeeper weapons in the Outback. Whoever did that would need a Peacekeeper’s help, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes. I see your point, General Amis. If it were Dward, why would their laboratory be on another continent?”
“Maybe to hide the connection from anyone who might notice.”
“An interesting theory. We will need some proof before I can contact my superiors.”
“There’s not much proof here. I’ve checked for any DNA, fingerprints, or anything else. There’s nothing.”
Kila nods again. She holds up her staff to begin a search. Melanie isn’t sure what to do, so she stands back by the door and waits. As she waits, she notices a glint of light in a vent. It’s too high up for her to reach without a chair, which apparently Dward didn’t think he needed.
“There’s something up there,” she tells Kila, pointing excitedly like a toddler.
The Peacekeeper lifts herself off the ground about two feet so she can reach the gate. The staff spews a bolt of lightning to blast the screws holding the grate to the wall. Once it’s shoved aside, Melanie sees they hit the jackpot: a video camera.
There are no computers in Dward’s office that could have been used to monitor the camera. “Could he have linked it to his staff?”
“No, not to such primitive technology.” Kila grimaces slightly. “My apologies.”
“It’s all right. We must seem like cavemen to you guys.”
“There are many who think that way, but I have seen the heroism of your people. Your technology might not be sufficiently advanced yet, but your spirit is equal to many races.”
“Noble savages, then.”
“Perhaps.”
Melanie looks around the room. “If it wasn’t feeding to here, then it must be r
eporting to a remote site.” Kila takes the camera down so Melanie can examine it. As she expected, it has a wifi transmitter.
She reaches into her belt for her miniature toolkit. This would probably be easier for Tonya, but they haven’t heard back from her yet. For now she’ll have to try this on her own.
With the tools Melanie manages to open the camera up. She hooks up one of Robin’s gizmos to the wiring inside the camera. This lets her tap into its diagnostics. Among the stream of information is the IP address for the wifi the camera is feeding to. “Gotcha,” she mumbles.
In this part of Africa there aren’t that many wifi hotspots around, not at all like in America with a Starbucks on every corner. It doesn’t take her long then to track the source of the camera: the Church of the Restoration in Kolwezi.
Chapter 18
Hunched over her broom, Dr. Pierce moves like she’s an old woman again. Every muscle and bone and her body still aches from the beating she took. A sharp pain accompanies every breath. She wonders if before long she’ll start to cough up blood. That or her internal organs might begin to shut down one-by-one until she’s dead.
If she doesn’t start to move faster, she might not have to wait for her organs to shut down. A guard seems to know where to hurt her most, jabbing her injured ribs with his baton. “Move it, kaffer,” he growls.
From the curse word and his accent, she knows he’s South African. Not a Mandela supporter, clearly. He’s just the sort who would love a chance to push a bunch of blacks around as repayment for repealing apartheid. She doesn’t say anything to him; she shuffles forward as fast as she can to continue her work.
The blood from the dead worker is already gone; she’s glad she didn’t have to be the one to remove that stain. It is sad to realize how impermanent the woman was, how easily any of them could be erased from this place. She might easily be the next one.
“Get your hands off me!” a girl screams in English. Dr. Pierce looks up to see a young girl with blue hair and suntanned skin that’s much too light to make her a native of this place.
One of the guards gives her an introduction to the rules of this prison, clubbing the girl over the back. The girl drops to her knees. Dr. Pierce knows enough to stay back. There’s nothing she can do to help the poor child, not now. She can only continue to sweep or else she’ll be the one getting beaten.
The girl continues to scream at the guards long after Dr. Pierce would have. Eventually her cries fade away; they’ve probably beaten her unconscious. She would ask how they could do such a thing to a teenage girl, but she’s already seen their disregard for human life; apparently that extends to all skin colors.
***
The blue-haired girl is shoved roughly into their pen. “I asked for the honeymoon suite,” she calls back to the guards, but they pretend not to hear.
Dr. Pierce watches the girl settle into a corner, hugging her knees to her chest. Though it’s still painful to move—especially after hours spent cleaning the factory—Dr. Pierce makes her way over to the girl. “Hello, young lady. My name is Khala Pierce.”
The girl looks up, her eyes rimmed with tears. “You’re English, aren’t you?”
“I was born in this region, but yes I emigrated to England as a child. You’re an American, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The girl holds out her hand. “Tonya Kinney.”
“That name seems familiar for some reason.”
“I also go by Ion Girl. I helped save the world a year ago.”
“Oh, yes. We’re all very grateful. Or I suppose we would be if we weren’t in this prison.”
“Yeah, about that. How did you end up here?”
Dr. Pierce starts to tell her. When she gets to meeting Diane, Tonya stops her. The girl actually seizes her by the shoulders, prompting a new wave of pain. “You saw Diane?”
“Yes. I met her in the ruins of my village. We went through the jungle, until we saw a hill. My people were there, taken captive by some soldiers. Diane thought she could negotiate with them—”
“Negotiate? That doesn’t sound like Diane.”
“You know Diane?”
“She’s my…friend.”
“Oh, I see.” Dr. Pierce suspects they’re more than friends. Such a lifestyle is not something she approves of, but she understands that it’s become far more common after that alien weapon turned all the men into women for that brief time. “Diane asked me to go back to contact a General Amis. But as you can see, I ended up here.”
“What did Diane want you to tell Melanie?”
“What I told you, more or less. Can this General Amis help?”
“She could, if we could get out of here to tell her.”
“That is the sticky wicket.”
“These people Diane went to talk to, did you get a look at them?”
“No, they were too far for me to see. Diane said she knew one of them. She thought he might be amenable to a diplomatic solution.”
“I guess he wasn’t.”
“No. I waited for her to come back. When she didn’t, I took off through the jungle. Eventually some nasty men found me and brought me here. Do you know what became of Diane?”
“Diane is back to being Darrien now.”
“You mean she’s a man?”
“Yes. She used to be an assassin called Hitter. Now she is again. Those people she talked to did something to her. They took away his memories of being a girl. I don’t know how, but unless we can find a way to reverse it, he’ll end up in prison at best.”
“Oh dear. I don’t imagine there’s much we can do here. We’ve all tried to find a way out of this terrible place. The only way so far seems to be as part of the trash.”
The girl puts a hand on her shoulder. In the girl’s eyes Dr. Pierce sees some of Diane’s confidence. “We’re going to find a way out of here. I promise.”
“That’s kind of you to say, young lady, but I fear it is only a fool’s hope. No one knows where we are. There’s no way for them to find us.”
“Then we have to find them.”
“Yes, quite. I should go lie down. We both need our strength for the morning.”
“You do that.” Before Dr. Pierce can crawl off, Tonya says, “And thanks for telling me about Diane.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” Then Dr. Pierce curls up on the floor, soon dropping into sleep.
***
The entrance to the Church of the Restoration is barred by a solid metal gate that would require a tank to open. That is unless you have a Neanderthal and a Peacekeeper. Then it only requires a burst of lightning and a couple of punches to knock the gate down.
“Goodness. Should we really be barging into a church like this?” Mom asks.
“It’s not a real church, Mom. It’s more like a cult.”
“I see.”
“While we’re here, you could ask about membership for you and Jasmine.”
“No, I don’t think so. One church is enough for me.”
If nothing else, Mom’s presence at least helps ease the tension of storming an enemy compound. Melanie does make sure to stay in front of Mom to shield her from any bullets. She should have thought to bring a bulletproof vest at least for Mom to wear. If they make it back, maybe Melanie can talk to Mom about a proper outfit for this sort of thing. But then since she’s wearing a powder blue-and-white catsuit she doesn’t have much room to talk. At least the material of her catsuit is made with Kevlar fibers to lessen a bullet’s impact.
She’s not surprised when armed guards rush out into the courtyard of the church. “Stay right there!” one shouts. The guards are armed with standard .38 pistols. Not heavy firepower, but enough to stop her and Mom and perhaps Garlak if they’re lucky.
Garlak roars back at the guards, ready to charge. Melanie puts a hand on her arm. “Not yet. Let’s try to talk first.”
“No like talk.”
“I know.” Melanie clears her throat. “I am General Melanie Amis, Global Autonomous Intelligence Agency
. These are my agents and Lieutenant Kila of the Galactic Peacekeepers. I need to speak with someone in charge concerning a murder investigation we are conducting.”
“You want to speak to someone, make an appointment in the morning, kid,” one guard says.
“Until then, get lost.”
“All right, we tried talking,” Melanie says. She hurls a shuriken before the guards can fire their guns. Her shuriken hits one in the gun hand while Kila zaps the other with a burst from her staff.
Garlak snuffles like an angry bull. “Me wanted to bash them.”
“I’m sure there are plenty more.”
“Me hope.”
Melanie lets Garlak bull her way into the church. It appears the church used to be an actual church. At least it still has the crosses and stained glass by the altar. At that altar is a woman who looks like a darker-haired version of Mom. She’s clad in a pink robe that looks like a nightgown with the CotR’s logo sewn onto the chest.
“Stay back!” the woman shouts. “This is private property. You have no right to be here.”
“We’re here about the murder of Peacekeeper Commander Dward.” Melanie takes her badge out to hold up. Kila doesn’t have a badge, but her appearance and staff are more than enough proof of her authority.
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“No, I suppose you don’t have to,” Melanie says. She gestures to Garlak. “But my associate will be unhappy if you refuse to cooperate.”
“You can’t torture me. That’s illegal!”
“I’m afraid it’s pretty hard to stop Garlak when she gets in a bad mood.”
Mom brushes past Melanie to take the terrified woman by the arm. Apparently she’s decided to play good cop. “It’s all right, dear. My daughter won’t hurt you. You know how impetuous young people can be.”
“You’re one of us?”
“No, but I am in a similar situation thanks to that weapon. All we need is for you to tell us what happened to that poor alien and then we can be on our way.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything.”
“Then maybe you can show us,” Melanie says. “We know you had a camera planted in his office. It’s been sending video back here. Give us the footage and we can be out of your hair.”
GAIA: Rogue State (A Girl Power Novella) Page 11