by Michael Rigg
Sixty feet below, the boarders all watched and pointed as they saw the man touch the Network. Women screamed and children cried out as Frederick Denk burst into flames and exploded in a rippling torrent of sparks, parts of his body glowing as they shot along the Network, burning as they flew hundreds of miles per hour in all directions.
~~~~~~~
When the sparks and explosions started, Pandora held her breath and squeezed the trigger. Instead of a roaring blast from the .44, a wavy 'WHOOP' sounded, accompanied by a bright white muzzle flash. Moving her arms a fraction to the left, the WHOOP repeated. She didn't take the time to see if her bullets met their targets. Instead, she dropped the pistol on the deck and ran toward the platform where people were screaming.
"I'm coming, daddy!"
CHAPTER 9, “Tomatoes”
The first item of familiarity that came to me was the ham and tomato croissant sandwich. It was the first food I'd had since waking up here and something in the taste of it began to open memories for me.
I think I hate tomatoes.
The next item was being mugged, or what I thought was a mugging.
I had a brief memory flash of being approached at gunpoint, or maybe I was the one with the gun. Oh, maybe I am a sleeper agent! I didn't have time to center myself and concentrate on the image because Lucien and I were ushered outside, one of us to our death.
I led the way onto the alley landing and stood with my hands at my sides as Lucien and the gunman stepped out behind me. I only slowly raised my right hand to tuck a long strand of hair behind my ear when a gust blew it across my face. There were lamp posts at either end of the grated walkway, but only a dim yellow bulb above the door of the Spoilery out here above the suspended alleyway. For the next several stories below us I could make out grated walkways or landings, some better lit than others. And, hundreds of feet below that, the dank and vacant midnight streets of Philadelphia.
"Over there," the man nudged us deeper into the shadows.
Lucien said, "There's no need for murder, my good man, I happen to be the Man for—"
"Lord Landry, I know."
I heard a dull thump and pictured the man's fisted hand coming down hard on Lucien's shoulder blade, the weight of the pistol driving into him. I spun around. "Don't touch him!"
The man stopped, and I could make out the silver shine of the .38's muzzle as it leveled on my face, a glint off a glass tube of some kind attached to the barrel. Lucien staggered to the edge of the walkway and slumped against the iron railing. He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned.
The gunman kept his distance, but I was acutely aware of a few things all at once without realizing what they meant or where they came from. I could feel the muscles in my legs tensing as if preparing to kick. My mind automatically calculated distance, sized up the man's attire and figured his status—even in this world—as no better than middle class, maybe lower. But his shave lines were clean, obviously done with great care and probably by a professional. My eyes noted how his own eyes shifted with indecision and how his hand trembled slightly as if he hadn't thought past this point, and I realized there would be an additional point five seconds on the gunshot because the revolver wasn't cocked. Despite the darkness, I could also make out the tips of the bullets in the handgun's cylinder. They were hollow and a dark burnished color, probably copper, a deadly weapon not used to wound or maim. Whoever loaded this weapon planned to kill their target at close range with as few shots as possible. Revolvers can't be silenced, either, and if this man was wanting to commit a murder under cover of darkness, he picked the wrong weapon. The echo at this altitude among the tall buildings would bring police or soldiers for blocks. This wasn't his gun. He had taken it from someone else, probably a soldier, guard or police officer.
Keeping the gun trained on me, only stealing a glance to Lucien as the portly butler continued rubbing the lump on his head, the man shot out his left arm to force his sleeve up and expose a thick metal device. He thumbed a switch with his chin. "This is Grubbs. Come in."
"Willis here, Mr. Grubbs," came a distant tinny voice.
"Grubbs," Lucien muttered. The glance he gave me showed familiarity with the name at least.
"I have the Property and the valet. What do you have?"
"No sign of the others, Mr. Grubbs. We're moving into place at the platform now."
"If you see Landry, arrest him."
"Yessir." A brief crackle of static as the man cleared his throat. "What shall we charge him with?"
"Corporate espionage and illegal possession of Property without a transport license." He grinned at both of us, “And murder.”
Mr. Grubbs snapped off the wrist radio with his chin and smirked. "But you ain't really Property, are you, doll?"
My mind continued to race, parts of it coming alive I didn't know where there, instructions to myself to act weaker and more frail than the coiled wire within my gut. Where these sudden clouded memories came from I had no idea. I looked down shyly, batting my eyelashes a bit as I pushed another long strand of hair back over my ear.
Lucien started to right himself against the hand rail. He turned to face our assailant. "Grubbs, I knew this was—"
Grubbs swung the pistol toward Lucien and I saw the hammer twitch. "No!" I shouted. Then, as Grubbs swung the weapon back toward my face, I winced and blurted, "I'm not Property, you're right. We lied!"
"Alice, no."
I glanced at Lucien, but took a half step toward Grubbs to keep the butler safe, forcing Grubbs to keep the weapon on me. I needed just eight more inches... for what, I didn't know.
I nodded as I took another half step. "Bryce and Lucien rescued me from an Imperial genetics lab."
"A gene lab?" Grubbs sneered, disbelieving. "You expect me to believe you're a Manufacture? A witch?"
In my periphery, I could see Lucien rapidly shaking his head, probably sensing that I was doing something with the lie to draw Grubbs' attention and save his life. "No. No, Alice, He'll kill—" he started.
That was all I needed.
Even in the shadowy dark I saw Grubbs' jaw clench and his arm straighten. The bill of his riding cap dipped forward as he creased his brow, swinging the .38 toward Lucien.
I found myself moving, my left leg kicking up to give my right leg enough leverage to kick higher. My canvas clad foot connected with the spot on Grubbs' wrist to keep his finger from tensing on the trigger while loosening his grip. My foot shot high, my leg effortlessly stretching as though I were doing the splits vertically. Grubbs cried out as the pistol flew into the darkness. When my leg came down I was within reach of Grubbs. I spun an insane pirouette. My right elbow shot back and connected with his nose. Following the wet crunch, I swung under with my left, the ball of my palm impacting with his sternum as I barked out a, "Whuh!"
He collapsed at my feet unconscious, his nose and two ribs broken. One second later the pistol clattered on the grated walkway near his head. Lucien rushed to pick it up.
"Dear God, Alice, how did you—?"
My eyes were wide as I slowly shook my head, staring down at Grubbs. "I don't know," I offered weakly.
Lucien pocketed the pistol before moving to the man to check his pulse. "He's still alive."
"I know," I said. "I would have hit him higher and to the right if I was going to drive his ribs into his heart."
Lucien only stared at me, the distant lamplight illuminating his fearful eyes like twin moons. "Alice... You... You remember... something?"
I nodded slightly. "I think I'm starting to."
“You moved like some kind of ...assassin.” I could see that his dim face was wary, even scared. I held up a hand to show I was nothing of the sort, though I didn't believe it myself.
“No, Lucien, I...
I just defended myself, that's all.”
“What you did was not the act of self defense. You were blazing!” His jowls twitched.
My shoulders slumped. “Lucien, I am no witch and I'm no killer. I honestly don't know how I did that. I would never do anything to hurt you or Bryce, I swear.”
I wished I could believe that, but I couldn't be sure. I looked down at the man on the grate. He might have the answers. Someone had obviously sent him. I nodded with my chin. “You know him?”
Lucien studied Grubbs' beaten form as he stood. He nodded as she glanced between Grubbs and me, his movements still betraying his wariness. "Well, this is an... interesting development... to say the least."
I shrugged shaking my head slightly. "Who is he?"
"Perek Grubbs." Lucien scoffed. "He works for Thorne & Wolfe in New Yorke, a ruthless slug of an Acquisitions Officer as I recall."
Things were starting to piece together in my mind a little at a time. Bryce Landry and Lucien thought, or suggested, that I was somehow an agent of this Thorne & Wolfe, and here was a man who had tried to kill us who believed I was the "Property" of the Landry's. I knew this much: I wasn't the "Property" of either of them. I was caught in the middle of something that may very well turn out to be international. What's more, if this Grubbs was an officer of that company I couldn't possibly be a sleeper agent for them.
So, the question now was, if I'm not a sleeper agent of this Thorne & Wolfe, who was I a sleeper agent for? I looked at Lucien. "What do you suppose he wanted with us?"
"Not us, Alice. You." I noticed he was holding the gun pointed loosely in my direction. The barrel was pointed at my feet, but he was keeping his distance and I knew he could easily lift his hand and shoot me any time he wanted.
"But I'm not—"
"Yes," Lucien glanced over his shoulder. Distant clanking footsteps moved quickly this way. "I know that, my dear, but apparently the corporation does not. Come." He stepped forward and took me by the elbow. I noticed the gun lift and point to my side. "Deeper into the shadows. Someone's coming."
I let him lead me into the darkness, though the adrenaline was still surging through my body. Not that I was anxious to test my apparent martial arts skill on someone else, but if Lucien took this opportunity to finish me and be done with the mystery that plagued him—you and I both, Lucien—I knew I'd be able to bring him down as easily as I did this Perek Grubbs guy.
Grubbs, for his part, remained motionless in the darkness near the railing. Someone walking by wasn't likely to see him, but if he roused before they came by, or if the stranger tripped on him and plummeted over the rail, I couldn't live with myself.
"Lucien, they'll find him," I whispered harshly, as much out of fear of discovery as trying to take his mind off possibly shooting me.
He held me back. "Wait. Let's see who it is, or if they'll stop."
I sought his round silhouette in the darkness. “Lucien, I'm not going to do anything to—”
“Hush!”
We watched as someone stepped in front of us, facing down the alleyway.
It was Bryce. His tall shadowy form was murky in the distant dim gas lights, but I recognized him by his gate and height, and the long flow of the coat that was mine up until an hour ago or so. "Bryce!" I called out.
Lucien tried to hold me back, not seeing what I could see—or at least not identifying his master's son as easily as I could. Could this be another clue as to who or what I was that I could see things so clearly? "Bryce!" I pulled free and ran toward him as Lucien pointed the pistol and followed me at a cautious distance with the weapon, I sensed, trained on my back.
“Stop! Alice, I'll shoo—”
Bryce turned toward me, his face grim. "Alice? Lucien?"
I'm not sure why, but I ran to his arms and wrapped him in a hug of relief. It wasn't that I felt helpless or that I was in love with him or anything, but Bryce Landry was the most knowledgeable—and well-equipped—person I knew in this world. He was my only anchor to sanity. He held me tightly against him as he spoke over my head to Lucien.
"What happened? Where'd that weapon come from, and why are you pointing it at—?"
"Perek Grubbs," the butler said, pointing with the pistol toward the heap behind Bryce and I.
"Grubbs?" Releasing me, Bryce turned and knelt down next to the man. As Grubbs began to stir, Bryce rifled through the pockets of his jacket. "I'm surprised Thorne would send a lieutenant to do the job of a lackey."
"Agreed," Lucien huffed. He looked around to make sure we were still alone, still holding the pistol on Grubbs. Well, mostly on Grubbs. He was sure to have it ready to defend himself should I make a move. "If they were simply tailing us."
"Perek!" Bryce barked at the man after removing some folded papers and wallet from his inner jacket pocket. "Grubbs!" Bryce lightly smacked the man's cheek to bring him around.
Grubbs' eyes opened and he winced, then his eyes widened and he caught a glimpse of me over Bryce's shoulder. He coughed and winced painfully. "K-Keep her away! What the hell you got goin' on—?"
"Easy," Bryce cautioned, hefting the man to his feet amongst muffled, strained and painful protests, but holding tight to his collar. He turned Grubbs so his back was to the rail and bent him backwards over it as though he meant to drop the man to his death.
“Ow!” Grubbs whined and winced as his ribs were stretched, pressed by Bryce's big hands.
"Bryce, no!" I reached out, but Lucien took my arm. I glanced back at the butler and caught a slight shake of the head as he held me back with one hand and turned the pistol toward my side. I widened my eyes at him.
"He won't hurt the blighter," Lucien said in a low voice. “You just mind yourself, young lady.”
Grubbs held Bryce's wrists as the Captain leaned him over the railing. The man's hat fell off and floated like a heavy leaf about thirty stories down before it landed on a walkway below, still countless stories above the dark Philadelphia streets. He stammered, his eyes wide, twin streams of blood drying darkly under his nostrils. He kept his gaze on me as he spoke to Bryce. "Jus... Just keep her away... She's an animal witch."
"Animal?" Bryce glanced over his shoulder at Lucien and I.
"She almost killed me!" As Grubbs spoke, his voice started to get stuffy, no doubt from the swelling in his nose and face. It came out as, "She albose gilled bee!"
Lucien smiled and tipped an invisible hat in my direction. "Seems our little Alice is quite the stick of dynamite." His smile faded, his tiny eyes accusatory as he looked at me with a wary glance.
Turning back to Grubbs, Bryce said, "No kiddin'... Is that why Thorne & Wolfe is after her, Grubbs? Ain't it enough that I allowed a default on the contracts? Now Bradford Thorne is sendin' goons after us? Why? Because o' her?"
Grubbs finally met Bryce's gaze. His eyes steeled. "I don't know what yer talkin' 'bout, Landry."
"Hells you don't. Why would they send you of all the worms in their employ?"
"I'm alone."
Bryce tipped his head in the direction of the SkyTrain. "What's your interest in the Tesla Bridge, Mr. Grubbs?"
Lucien chimed in. "He has a wrist wireless, captain. He spoke orders to man named Willis to arrest you on sight."
Bryce glanced at Lucien and I. I nodded the truth to what Lucien just reported.
Despite his precarious entanglement, and the fact that the slightest shift in weight from Bryce would send him over the edge, Grubbs' voice hardened against the Captain and when he spoke I could catch small sparks of spittle illuminated by the distant lights. "Thorne sent me, yeah, but only 'cause you high tailed it out of the Center of Trade. He wanna to know why." Grubbs's beady eyes shifted to me. "An' her."
"What about her?" Bryce cinched up on the collar.
/> "Thorne wanted to know whasso special about her that you'd piss on your whole family."
"So she truly ain't part of all this, has nothin' to do with Thorne and the sea property?"
Flinching against the threat of the drop, Grubbs rapidly shook his head. No.
I glanced at Lucien and saw him blanch slightly, even in the dim. He lowered the pistol and bit his fat lower lip. I was also beginning to realize that my presence did something horrible, that my rescue meant trouble to the Landry family somehow. Lucien's anger over it earlier, and Grubbs' words now, were further evidence that me simply being here was causing trouble.
I reached toward Bryce. "Bryce, I—"
He spun his head toward me. "It's all right, Alice. No matter the cause or effect, I would not have changed what I'd done." Turning back to Grubbs: "You sure you don't know who she is?"
When Grubbs didn't answer, Bryce lifted him off his feet, leaning him back further over the railing.
That loosened him up. Grubbs held tighter to Bryce's arms so he wouldn't fall, his center of gravity now over the rail. He breathed heavily, wheezing against the pain in his chest. "No! Don't! I swear! I swear, we dinna know! Thorne wann uh know! Thass all! I swear!"
Pulling him back to his feet, Bryce cocked his arm back. He glanced to me and said, "Sorry you have to see this, my dear," and punched Perek Grubbs solidly in the face, snapping the man's head back and rendering him unconscious yet again.
"Good work, Captain," Lucien smiled, stepping forward and handing the pistol to Bryce.
Bryce took the gun and tucked it into a deep pocket of his coat. "I guess this creates still more questions."
I looked at him, "I'm sorry, Bryce. My being here has caused—"
"A mystery to unfold," he finished with a tender smile. "Nothin' more. And I love a good mystery," he winked.
"What of this bloody oaf?" Lucien said, pointing to Grubbs.
Bryce took the papers he'd removed from the man's pocket and crumpled them into a tight ball before throwing them over the rail into the street far below. They were followed by his wallet.