Chapter 5 - Panic
00:15, Blue Sky Hostel, East District
A full moon shone down on the deserted street, its light mixing with the dull glow of the streetlamps. As usual, Damos stuck to the shadows, despite the fact that there was no one around. He glanced up at the sign which hung outside his destination, Blue Sky Hostel, before entering. Inside he found a man reclining in an office chair, sleeping behind the welcome desk.
Typical, he thought as he silently strode across the room to the stairs. Thanks to a quick hack of the hostel’s systems, Owen had managed to find out the target’s room number.
First floor, room seven, Damos repeated to himself. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, he found himself in a long corridor.
One… Two… Three…, he counted the rooms off as he went past.
Five… Six…
Seven.
He carefully knelt beside the door and held his gloved hand up to the lock, a simple card swipe.
When will they learn? Pulse. Invisible to the naked eye, a pulse of mana flashed from his glove, frying the lock’s internal circuitry. He moved his hand to beside the lock and thought grab, then slowly slid it across the door frame. Behind the plaster, a metal lock bolt slid back.
Standing up and grabbing the door handle with his other, regularly gloved hand, he thought blade and slipped inside. He pushed the door back until the broken lock brushed against the frame then left it. Bringing up his other hand, he held the translucent blue dagger in front of him and calmly crept across the room. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he began to make out the objects in the room. Opposite him was an empty bed.
Something sharp slammed down onto Damos’s back. He stifled a grunt as he fell forwards, recovering before he hit the floor. He turned and grabbed but found himself grasping at thin air. He was suddenly bathed in light as the target threw the door open and fled into the corridor. Damos leapt to his feet. Pain shot through his back but he grit his teeth and forced himself to follow. He was not going to fail again.
* * * *
Lily’s mind whirled.
Who was that man? Why was he breaking into my room with a knife? she thought, unwilling to face the obvious truth.
She reached the end of the corridor and threw herself down the stairs, leaping almost all of them with only the banister for support. She landed hard, her ankle flaring with pain. The man at reception sat up with a start, a bewildered look on his face. Lily ignored him and charged for the door. A second later she heard her assailant land behind her. Without looking back, she ran out onto the street.
* * * *
Matt’s voice crackled in Damos’s ear.
“What’s the ruckus?”
“The target wasn’t asleep. She took me from behind,” Damos replied, ramming the hostel door open with his shoulder.
“Shit,” Matt swore as Damos burst out onto the road. “Where is she now?”
Damos looked up to see the target’s blonde curls disappear around a corner.
“Fleeing the hostel. I’m in pursuit.”
“Good, I’ll aim to intercept. Which way is she headed?”
“Chakram Street.”
“Got it, on my way.”
Damos heard the hum of a jet bike engine, then the line went quiet. He banked and turned onto Chakram street. The thunder of his boots echoed round the street as he gave chase. The target was only a few paces ahead, and she was running with a limp.
How is she still getting away? Damos thought in frustration. If only I could throw my knife.
The target swerved left onto another street, and Damos did the same, throwing himself around the corner. He overshot slightly, losing him precious distance.
What I would give for a gun.
A deep hum began to echo round the buildings. In the distance a silver jet bike appeared, heading straight towards them. Damos saw the target look up at it and begin waving for help.
Fool, Damos thought, recognising the bike instantly as Matt’s. Matt jerked on the handlebars and the bike swerved sideways, landing right in front of the target.
“Help, this man attacked-” she began, but before she could finish Matt leapt off the bike and put his arm around her throat, covering her mouth with his other hand.
Just like I taught him, Damos thought. He skidded to a halt and stood in front of the pair. He slowly brought his knife up, savouring the moment.
Matt suddenly cried out in pain and recoiled. The target brought her leg back down and kicked forwards, striking at Damos’s gut. He stepped back, swiping out with his knife on instinct. The target ducked and the blade flew over her head. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she pushed Matt aside and leapt onto the jet bike. Damos lunged for her, grabbing her jacket. He was suddenly blown back by the force of the jets. Feeling the tug, the woman let go of the bike and held her arms back. Damos was thrown away as her jacket slipped free and the bike shot off. He struggled to his feet and yelled in frustration. The target was gone.
* * * *
00:22, City Suburbs, East District
Lily felt the wind tug at her hair as she shot through the night. The bike rocked and tipped, its self-correcting balance struggling against Lily’s inexperience. More than once she felt it swerve towards a building and had to heave on the handlebars to avoid crashing.
After a few seconds, she chanced a look around. The street, both at ground level and in the air, was devoid of people.
God that was close, she thought. Thank goodness I couldn’t sleep.
Lily hauled on the handlebars and forced the bike around a corner.
Where do I go now? I can’t go back to the hostel, they know I’m staying there. And who exactly are ‘they’? The people Ethan meant?
She thought back, struggling to remember anything about the man who’d chased her. Everything had happened so fast, it was all a blur. Something did stick in her mind, however: a blue dagger.
The same as the one Ethan was killed with. They must be the people he was worried about.
Lily shivered. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she realised how cold she was, especially without her jacket.
No, the disc!
Calm down, worry about that later. Where do you go? The Knights would be the obvious choice, but you saw what they were like. What if they found out you were a Gifted? There’s only one place you can go: back to Nexus. Their whole mandate is to stop violence against people like you. They’ll have to help.
She looked down, trying to get an idea of where she was. A couple of blocks later she got her bearings, realising she was near the park where they had left Ethan. She swerved and headed towards the seemingly innocuous building which served as a Nexus outpost.
After briefly scanning the myriad buttons which lined the jet bike’s handlebars, she found one with a picture of what looked like a landing bike. She pressed it and immediately began to drop in altitude. The bike slowed to a halt, hovering just above the pavement, before cutting out entirely and dropping onto the concrete.
She carefully stepped off the bike and walked up to the door which Jackal had led her through the previous night.
Now what? She waited a couple of seconds, then tentatively reached up and knocked on the door.
What if they’re not awake? she suddenly thought. Her fears were quickly waylaid as a slot opened up in the door and a pair of eyes looked down on her.
“What?” a man said. He peered down at her for a couple of seconds, then a look of realisation overcame his face and the slot shut. The door opened to reveal Jackal.
“Sorry miss, I didn’t recognise you for a second. What are you doing here? And so late?”
Lily opened her mouth to speak, but she was suddenly overcome by the night’s events. She buried her head in Jackal’s vest, grasping him tightly.
“Come on, in you come,” Jackal said, taking her in his arms. He slowly stepped back, coaching her inside, and shut the door.
“What-” Weasel began, then he realised wh
at was happening and went quiet. He slowly made his way over and stood awkwardly as Lily cried.
The three remained that way for quite a while as Jackal and Weasel waited for Lily to calm down. Once she felt ready, Lily moved back and wiped her face.
“What’s the matter, miss?” Jackal said.
“Give her a second,” Weasel replied, but Lily shook her head.
“It’s okay. Thank you, I… I don’t know where else to go. Someone just tried to murder me.”
For a pair of experienced criminals, Jackal and Weasel seemed surprisingly shocked.
“Murder you? Why on earth would they do that?” Weasel asked.
“I don’t know. They broke into my hostel room with a holographic knife. If I hadn’t been awake…”
“That sounds planned to me,” Jackal said. “Not some simple Gifted hate crime.”
Weasel nodded in agreement but said nothing.
“What did the attacker look like?” Jackal asked.
“I’m not sure. He was big, well-built. There was another too, with a jet bike. I stole it to get away. It’s parked outside.”
“Might be worth a look,” Weasel said. “I’ll stay here, you bring it in.”
Jackal nodded. He turned and left while Weasel moved over and put his arm on Lily’s back, rubbing gently.
“Come sit down,” he said, gesturing to the pair of chairs which were sitting in the corner. Lily slowly trudged over and took a seat. She felt herself sink as she sat, the chair’s cushions having clearly seen better days. A moment later there was a clatter as Jackal dragged the jet bike in through the door. Weasel moved to help, leaving Lily alone with the chairs. The pair picked up the bike and moved it to the centre of the room before bending down to take a look.
“Seems pretty nondescript to me. Could be anyone’s,” Jackal said.
“You’re right, I can’t see-” Weasel began, before going suddenly quiet. His eyes fixed on a point near the engine, he lay down alongside the bike and shuffled under until he was looking up into the bikes inner workings. “That’s not good.”
“What?” Jackal asked. Lily sat up and looked across the room, trying to work out what it was. Panic gripped her, a feeling stolen from Weasel but rapidly becoming her own.
Weasel took a breath, then replied, “The exterior seems normal, but there’s a pretty heavy modification which has been made to the ManaNet receiver.”
“And?” Jackal asked.
“It’s not a simply jockey mod. I’m no expert, but it seems to me that not only have they bypassed the Mana-filter, but also disabled the tracker and limiter. This is a professional job, and I only know of one group who could do it so well.”
“Who?” Lily asked, any attempt to hide the shake in her voice utterly failing.
“They don’t have a name. No one’s even sure how many of them there are. They’re an elite group of contract killers. We currently only know one of their members, their primary assassin, a man named Damos.
“That’s not his real name,” Weasel continued, “but it’s what everyone in the business calls him. Rumour has it he was orphaned at a young age and grew up on the streets. When the going got tough, he turned to contract killing and discovered his natural talent. He’s been getting better and better at it ever since. I’m amazed you managed to escape. He’s supposed to be ruthless and unrelenting. And he hates Gifteds. Supposedly it was a Gifted who murdered his parents and he’s been searching them out ever since."
“What should I do?” Lily asked.
“Get out of the city,” Jackal replied. “Go back to the Colonies and stay there. It’s your best bet for them not coming after you. You can stay here overnight. They’ll be unlikely to strike during the day so you’ll have some time to leave.”
“We’ll stay here as well, to make sure everything’s okay,” Weasel added.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Lily replied. She curled up on the seat, letting its cushions swallow her up. Fear still gripped her, but for the first time that night she also felt calm. She was safe for the time being, and that was what mattered.
* * * *
00:35, Nexus Outpost, East District
Unnoticed by all three, a tiny camera in the corner of the room turned and zoomed in on Lily’s face. On the floor above, the woman known as Yakshi stared at the camera feed. After a couple of moments, she swiped the image away and began rapidly typing on her holographic display. As soon as she’d finished, she tapped a small mail icon and the message disappeared.
Problem solved, she thought. Now only the data disc remains…
Chapter 6 - Anguish
00:52, Apartment Building, West District
No sooner had they landed than Matt let go of Damos’s waist and jumped off the back of the bike.
As if having to sharing a bike wasn’t bad enough, Matt thought. He wasted no time in heading for the fire escape entrance to the building, glad to be able to put some distance between himself and the irate hitman. He was already at the door when he heard the engine shut off and Damos’s boots clunk onto the concrete. By the time Damos reached the entrance, Matt was on his way downstairs. He already had the key ready when he reached their apartment. He waited for the familiar series of clicks before turning the handle and pushing the door open.
“You incompetent fools!” Victoria yelled before Matt’s foot had even crossed the threshold.
“Nice to see you too.”
“Don’t you dare joke with me. We received a message while you were out. Owen?”
“I am disappointed by the ineptitude your group has displayed,” Owen’s voice came from a neighbouring room. “I paid you to get the job done, and yet one of my men reports that my target is not only still alive, but actually survived her encounter with your man.”
“One of their men? Who exactly are we working for?” Matt interrupted.
“Shut it,” Victoria snapped, shooting him a look. Matt felt her bionic eye bore into him. He leant back to find Damos stood directly behind him.
“Never in all my years have I been witness to such incompetence,” Owen continued. “My men inform me the target’s currently at twenty-three Pike Street. Don’t mess it up this time.”
Without a word, Damos turned for the door.
“Should I-” Matt began.
“No,” Damos interrupted, throwing the door to the stairwell open and disappearing.
Matt closed the door and turned back into the flat. Victoria tutted and turned to leave. Matt ignored her, heading for his room. He suddenly felt something bang against his leg from inside one of his knee side pockets.
“Oh, wait,” he called. Victoria turned, her flaccid tendrils swinging back and forth.
“Yes?”
“The girl dropped her coat when she, uh, eluded us, and we found a data disc in the pocket.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s got a ManaCorp stamp on it. Didn’t Izzy say this girl was from the Colonies? What’s she doing with a ManaCorp data disc?”
“As long as she’s dead within an hour, I don’t particularly care.”
“Bring it in here, I’ll take a look,” Owen called.
Matt leant sideways and reached into his pocket, retrieving the disc as he headed to Owen’s room. As usual, Owen was sat in his reclining chair, rapidly typing on a holographic keyboard projected from his pair of technomancer’s bracelets. Matt tip-toed over the numerous cables and wires which littered the floor before reaching round to hold the disc in front of Owen. After several more keystrokes, Owen reached up and took the disc, his lean fingers gently pinching either side of the plastic casing. He stared at it for a couple of seconds.
“Looks pretty standard to me, but that doesn’t mean anything. The stamp’s certainly authentic. Let’s see what’s on it. Slide it in that box over there,” Owen said, handing the disc back to Matt and pointing to the far corner. Matt took the disc and crept over to the computer, again being careful not to tread on anything delicate. He knelt down and inspect
ed the front, looking for some kind of disc drive.
“Near the top,” Owen said. Matt looked up and saw a thin, dark strip, almost invisible amongst the black casing. He opened the disc’s container and delicately plucked it from its resting place, making sure he only touched the edges. As he slid the disc into the slot, he felt the machine grab and pull it from his grip.
“Right, let’s have a look”, Owen said as Matt stood and returned to standing behind Owen’s chair.
“Which screen?” Matt asked.
“None yet, have patience.”
Owen began typing on his keyboard once again. His fingers were a blur over the translucent hologram. How he hit the right ones Matt had no idea.
“It’s encrypted, but that’s hardly a surprise. No reason to store anything on a disc unless it’s sensitive these days.”
“Can you break it?”
“Can I break it?” Owen scoffed. “Of course I can break it. What do you take me for?”
“How long?”
“Seconds, knowing the usual amateurs who do this sort of thing. I just have to fool it into thinking my computer is on ManaCorp’s network.”
Owen continued to type, occasionally swiping something from one monitor to another. Seconds passed and slowly became minutes. All the time Matt stood and watched, however, his eyelids grew heavier with each tick of the clock. Now he was back and inactive, he realised just how late it was.
“Seconds?” he said eventually, when he felt like he could fall asleep on the back of Owen’s chair.
“Yes, well, it appears as though this person actually had an idea of what they were doing. Still, I’m nearly there.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just can, okay?”
Several more minutes passed. Matt crossed his arms on top of the chair and rested his head on them. Without even realising it, his eyes closed. When he woke up some time later, he decided enough was enough.
“I’m going to-”
“Got it,” Owen exclaimed, violently throwing his arms in the air. His chair tipped back and Matt was thrown to his senses as his arm rest fell out from under him.
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