Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  Her estimate was correct. The car landed almost in the center of the flat expanse, kicking up a large cloud of dust that came partly from the thrusters, and partly from the force of the impact. The instant that it touched down, the doors on both sides of the vehicle popped open and a pair of figures ran out, fleeing in opposite directions.

  “Fek!” Signysdaater exclaimed. “Now ve have to chase zem! I hate zis part!” She slowed the cruiser, and then they were landing. The instant that the aircar’s gear kissed the ground, the veteran kaaper jumped out and pelted after the driver.

  Not knowing what else she was expected to do, Maya went after the passenger. She broke into a run just as another police cruiser touched down next to her, its loudspeaker blaring, “Stop! Police! Get down on the ground and put your hands on your head!” The order worked as well as it always did; the suspect completely ignored it and kept right on going.

  A young kaaper got out of her vehicle and joined in the foot chase. Simultaneously, her partner lifted off, and flew out ahead of them, clearly intent on cutting off the suspect’s escape route with the vehicle.

  By that point, their quarry had reached a fence that bordered the playing field. It was more than twice her height, and she surprised Maya by leaping straight over it as if it were less than half a meter tall.

  To make such a jump, Maya knew that the glass runner had to be augmented in some way. She swore again as the woman landed on her feet and continued running with a burst of speed that only confirmed this. Normal women couldn’t run that quickly without artificial enhancements.

  She reached the fence herself a moment later, and easily duplicated the fugitive’s superhuman feat. The suspect meanwhile, was racing down a narrow alley towards a low wall at its far end.

  Maya decided that enough was enough. She drew her police-issue sidearm and brought it to bear. Like the other components of her uniform, the device had been recording the incident and was sending a steady data stream to the Metro’s Central AI. The system evaluated everything that it had seen and applied this to Departmental policy in attoseconds. It made a decision.

  The message “LETHAL FORCE IS NOT AUTHORIZED. UNDERTAKE NON-LETHAL MEASURES ONLY!” flashed across the upper corner of Maya’s vision and the weapon’s trigger immediately locked. She hadn’t been intending to shoot the fleeing criminal (although this option did have a certain appeal to her by this point), but she had wanted to stun her, using the weapon’s secondary “Tase” function. When she tried to fire the built-in Taser however, another equally frustrating message appeared “SUSPECT OUT OF RANGE.”

  This time a Hriss profanity came from Maya’s lips as she holstered the now-useless weapon and resumed running. She had a backup weapon strapped to her leg; a needlegun that Sarah had mysteriously allowed her to keep. Unlike her department weapon, it didn’t depend on some distant computer to decide whether or not she could use it, but she knew better than to resort to it.

  The last thing that she needed on top of everything else, was to attempt to appeal to Signysdaater’s good nature to get her out from under charges of a ‘bad shoot’ with an unauthorized weapon. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to keep up the chase, at least until she was close enough to use the Taser, and then she definitely planned to use it on the fugitive. Repeatedly.

  Up ahead, the glass runner soared over the alley wall. The cruiser had reached this spot, and cut across the fleeing figure, but its presence barely slowed her. She landed on its hood, and used its slippery metal surface to slide off and down the other side. The instant that her feet touched the ground, she was off again, and showed no sign of tiring.

  Despite the fact that her talents had already failed her once that day, Maya was willing to give them another try. It was that, or keep up the chase until she died of exhaustion, or old age.

  She ‘felt’ for the runner and sent out a burst of mental energy, directed at her inner ear. It was something that Lady Ananzi had taught her, and she knew from painful, personal experience, that the intense wave of nausea that this produced would drop the fleeing suspect like a meteor.

  Except that it didn’t. The woman kept right on running. She didn’t even stumble.

  “Mer de Fek!” Maya rasped. She couldn’t figure out what she was doing wrong, but whatever it was, she was clearly doing it. There was only one option left.

  She embraced her symbiote and the world went grey. More importantly, the glass runner stopped moving, right along with the rest of the universe. She had been in mid-leap, preparing to vault over yet another fence, but now she hung in space, utterly motionless.

  Smiling in anticipation, Maya trotted up to her, and grabbed ahold of her wrist. The flesh under her fingers reacted the same way that everything in the normal time-stream did; it vibrated wildly and threatened to break free of her grasp. She was experienced at dealing with this though, and held on tight. Bringing the woman’s arm up, back and slightly across the line of her spine, Maya felt the shoulder beginning to lock. Fully aware of what was about to happen next, she stepped back and dropped her hips at the same time that she released the symbiote.

  Normal time resumed just as the runner’s shoulder locked completely. Her own momentum did the rest. She flew backwards and hit the ground with a resounding impact. Maya didn’t allow her a chance to recover or resist. She leaned in and dealt her carotid artery a quick knife-edged strike.

  The sudden interruption of blood to her brain stunned the woman, and Maya pressed her advantage, quickly flipping her over to bring her arms up and behind her. She was in the process of fumbling with the handcuff case on her belt, when the young kaaper finally caught up and helped her to secure her.

  Which was fine as far as Maya was concerned. The runner had already begun to come to her senses by this point, and was attempting to kick at her with her heels. She replied to this assault by simply sitting on the flailing limbs, and when it continued, turning herself to lay across them as she applied her handcuffs to the woman’s ankles.

  Although the restraints weren’t expressly made for this purpose, they did the trick. In seconds, the suspect was completely restrained, and Maya was able to stand. She also took this as an opportunity to express her displeasure.

  “The next time, when someone tells you to stop,” she growled, “you fekking stop!” This was punctuated with a sharp kick to the runner’s ribs. “You hear me, bitch?!”

  The policewoman standing next to her paid no attention to the sharp grunt of pain that came from the thrashing figure. She was just getting what she deserved and they both knew it. Besides, she was far more interested in Maya’s amazing performance.

  “Girl, I don’t know what you just did,” she said, “or how you did it—but good work!”

  Maya blinked, and then grinned at her, suddenly appreciating the irony of the entire thing. In her entire criminal career, she had never imagined in her wildest dreams, that she would one day be arresting someone, and wearing a policewoman’s uniform. The universe was a fekking weird place, she decided, and the Goddess could have a very strange sense of humor.

  Momentarily, a cruiser joined them, and she saw that it was being driven by Signysdaater. In the back, in the special cage that the vehicle used for prisoner transport, was the other suspect.

  “Zey had two kilos of glass in zere trunk,” the kaaper told them as they pushed their captive inside the cruiser to join her hapless partner. “Good collar, N’Janna” she added.

  “Wasn’t me,” N’Janna replied, inclining her head towards Maya. “She caught her.”

  The Zommerlaandar’s eyes widened slightly, and then she nodded slowly with what looked suspiciously like grudging approval. “’Kay--come on, ve have to go n’book zem.”

  ***

  The precinct house had already received their preliminary data, and they had searched the prisoners in the field. Even so, a more thorough identification check was conducted in the Booking Area, and the two suspects were subjected to even deeper scans that ate up a half an hour o
f everyone’s life.

  By the time they were being led away to their cells, the process had not only satisfied the requirements of the Justice system, but it had also yielded some explanations for the failure of Maya’s talents.

  When they were scanned, both suspects were found to have wire meshes over their scalps, and hidden under their hair. The design was more primitive than the kind that Maya had encountered in the ETR, but it still served the same basic function. Thanks to the war, this technology had migrated into the Sisterhood and the criminal underworld was reaping the benefits.

  The reason for her suspect’s preternatural speed also came to light. Just as Maya had suspected, the runner had been augmented. Again, the quality was nothing like what she was used to, but it had still managed to create the problems it had. Augmentation wasn’t common among criminals, but this was steadily changing, and she learned that law enforcement would be encountering more and more of it in the future.

  The only bright point in all of this was that the augments, being poorly manufactured, and installed with equal clumsiness, had done their job but also shredded the runner’s ligaments in the process. In addition to the felony charges that the woman would face, she would also be spending a substantial time in the hospital unit of whatever correctional colony she was ultimately committed to. There was even a good chance that the injuries would be permanent.

  Encouraged by this tiny bit of good news, Maya returned with Signysdaater to their cruiser. There were several calls in the area that were holding. None of them promised the same kind of excitement the chase had provided however.

  One involved a shop owner complaining about a hovertruck parked illegally in her delivery space. Another was a case of minor vandalism to a residential stairwell, and the last was a drunk and disorderly disturbance at a local club.

  “Ve’ll have to take one of zem,” Signysdaater sighed, scrolling down the list and selecting the drunk call. “All za local units are busy vith othzer calls.” She addressed the Dispatcher, “PR 13-XE-80, rezponding to AI 253312.”

  While they lifted off, Maya groaned and finished the last sip of her stale kaafra, pitching the empty cup out the window, and earning her a scowl from Signysdaater.

  Club Jit-Jat was only a few kilometers away and when they arrived, they had very little trouble locating their suspect. She was standing right in front of the entrance to the nightspot, yelling profanities at the top of her lungs in the general direction of the door, and club security.

  “Don’t you know who I am?” she wailed indignantly. “How dare you tell me I can’t come back in!”

  Signysdaater parked in the flyway and they got out and approached the figure together. The woman was young, and even attractive, in an alcohol and drug-soaked way, and her bodysuit and cloak, which had both suffered some recent damage, was clearly expensive.

  “Jantildam,” Signysdaater began. “Vhat iz za problem here?”

  The woman whirled, or more accurately, wobbled on her axis, and nearly toppled over, to face them. “Those bitches won’t let me back in the club! My car won’t let me drive and they won’t fekking let me back in. I just want to call my mother. Do you know who my mother is?”

  By this point, Signysdaater had scanned her with her data-monocle and she did know. So did Maya. The inebriated figure before them was none other than Lady Janessa n’Daarla, daughter of Senatrix n’Daarla of the Prosperi party. Not that this changed the situation one nano.

  “Lady Janessa,” Signysdaater said. “Za club haz za right to not let you in. If you vill let us, ve will call a hovercab for you.”

  Driving home in her own hovercar, AI assisted steering or not, was out of the question. When a vehicle’s AI sensed that its owner was too intoxicated to pilot it, it would lock the controls to ensure their safety. It would also offer to drive them home itself, call a cab, or simply remain parked so that they could ‘sleep it off’. But if the owner refused these options, then the AI could summon the authorities to intervene.

  This is exactly what had occurred in this case. Unable to reason with its mistress, the aircar had called the Metros.

  “No! I don’t want a fekking cab!” Lady Janessa screamed. “I already told my car that! I just want those bitches to let me the fek back in!” She was not only becoming repetitive, she was starting to annoy Maya.

  “Jantildam,” Signysdaater warned her. “If you von’t let us get you a cab zen ve vill have to arrest you.”

  “For what?! You can’t arrest me!” the woman shouted, tottering unsteadily. “Do you know who I am!?”

  “Yeah,” Maya answered, stepping up to her. “We do. You’re a drunk, you’re disorderly, and you’re under arrest.” With that, she grabbed her by her arm. Lady Janessa was not about to submit to such treatment from a ‘mere underling’ though, and jerked away.

  “How dare you!! My mother will have your badge, you fekking bitch! Do you hear me?”

  Maya frowned. “You know, this seems to be a week when everyone is using that word. I don’t like it.”

  The memory of another highborn girl, whom she had had the misfortune of encountering on the Star of Aphrodite came to mind— the Lady Mellissy n’Dawaa. At the time, she had been unable to do anything about the girl’s snotty attitude, and had simply endured her insults.

  But not here and not now. Arresting her counterpart was going to be a true pleasure, Maya thought. Without warning, she spun her around, shoved her roughly against the wall, and slapped on the handcuffs.

  “What?!!” Lady Janessa howled in outrage. “What do you think you’re doing?! Let go of me! I’ll have you fired, you kunta!!!”

  Neither Maya, nor Signysdaater were terribly concerned by these threats however, and stuffed her unceremoniously into the cruiser. Then they drove her to the nearest precinct house, enduring alternating fits of rage, and tears, all the way there.

  The precinct Captain was standing at the Booking Desk when they arrived. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as they half-walked, half-dragged their prisoner up to the counter. Somewhere between the landing pad and the desk, their ‘gentlelady’ had finally vomited, spattering Maya’s left trouser leg and shoe with a liberal coating of filth.

  “You stink,” the Captain said, looking pointedly at Maya.

  “You think?” Maya retorted as she helped Signysdaater hold the woman erect long enough for the scanner to register her ID and snap an image. “I didn’t notice.”

  The Captain ignored her flippancy and addressed her partner. “N’Kaaryn has a special detail this evening. Can you spare her for the remainder of your shift?”

  “Yah, zure zhing, Cap,” the kaaper replied. “I can handle zis.”

  “Thank you very much, officer,” the woman returned.

  She turned to Maya, “A group of officers will be attending a concert tonight. Celina is giving it and we are providing some of the security. The detail needs some rookies to handle the shess-work. So, congratulations. You just volunteered. The event is at 07:50. Now, please--clean yourself.”

  At that, she turned and walked away from them.

  “You stink, Maya” Maya sneered in a rude imitation of her words. “Clean yourself, Maya!”

  Meanwhile their prisoner had slumped over the counter, and was groaning miserably.

  “Gaane an, prinzess,” the Zommerlaandar urged, hoisting the woman back up onto her unsteady feet. “Ve have a nice little zell vaiting for you, and zen in za morning after zome beauty zleep, you vill vake and zee za Judge, yah?”

  As she stepped in to help her, Maya learned something new. The word for ‘yes’ in drunk-speak, wasn’t actually a word at all. It was another bout of projectile vomiting, and this time, her uniform blouse received the entire message.

  Sharien Geallea Civic Auditorium, Agamede District, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1048.12|30|07:91:69

  The Sharien Geallea Civic Auditorium was filled to capacity. It was after all, the first concert Celina had given
since her return, and the public was hungry for any taste of her new material. Only the Geallea, which was one of the largest of its kind anywhere in the Sisterhood, could accommodate such a vast audience. As the opening notes of “The Lady of Illidian” began to play, and their psievers painted the stage with a beautiful garden filled with flowers, Angelique gripped Sarah’s hand.

  “This is my favorite song,” she whispered, and along with 204,000 other fans, the two of them waited together in hushed anticipation for the show to begin. But Celina paused, and the illusions around her stopped appearing.

  Sarah, who had been actively reading her the entire time, silently cursed the musician. She knew exactly what was about to happen. Despite corrupting her data files and using the Agency’s influence with SNN, Celina had not been dissuaded from her own foolishness. Unless something was done immediately, Celina was going to make a public statement to the crowd about the ETR. That could not be allowed to happen.

  A mere fraction of a second later, Celina began to speak “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t sing for you when there are people dying in the ETR--”

  Sarah had just begun to focus her talents, when the unexpected occurred.

  The performer staggered, and then collapsed into a heap. A collective cry of alarm went up from the crowd, and the policewomen working the detail around the stage rushed up to help her. The concert, and Celina’s abortive attempt to make a protest, were both over.

  Angelique looked to Sarah with a small moue of disappointment. “It must have been from exhaustion,” she said. “The ETR tour was simply too much for the poor thing.”

  Sarah realized that Angelique had beaten her to the draw. She also realized that whatever follow-up was to occur, was in Bel Thana’s hands. She pitied Celina.

  ***

  Cup in hand, Maya was doing what kaapers always did when they pulled a special detail; as she guarded the Performer’s Entrance to the auditorium, she talked shop as much as a rookie like herself was allowed to, gossiped, griped about Department policy, and listened to bad jokes. She even made a few of her own.