Gen One

by Amy Bartelloni

  “I’m okay.” Delilah patted Gen’s hand as they sauntered to the booth. Zane had stopped in front of an older man with an eye patch who sold outdated electronics, many of which Delilah had never seen. He cycled through them faster than she could learn what they were for. Zane and Mac were old friends—of a sort. They played the same bartering game each time Zane came in, but Delilah suspected the old man overpaid him. He seemed like a softie at heart, and Zane was a child of the Banks. Another orphan.

  “How’s it hanging, Red?” the old man asked. He leaned back in his chair as Delilah ducked in and examined his wares. The noise from outside the tent quieted a little in the booth. She walked around two long tables covered in wares. Items from before the war covered every inch of the wall, most of which she couldn’t identify or explain.

  “Same old, same old,” she said.

  “And that high falutin’ job you got? They treating you well?”

  Delilah attempted a smile. Her job cleaning Authority boats wasn’t exactly high falutin’, but it was steady work. More than most people had. More than Zane. He pulled out the hoverdisk and Mac inspected it.

  “As respectful as the bots can be,” Delilah answered. “They pay me, at least.” She leaned back and cracked her back. Cleaning involved a lot of hours on her feet.

  “So, how much for this?” Zane interrupted. The flap swished when someone walked by, and Zane’s gaze darted to the entrance. Gen murmured a warning to Zane about the Authority bots getting closer. Rank was looking for someone.

  Mac turned it over and whistled low. “I ain’t seen one of these in a while. It work?”

  Zane tossed it up, and it wobbled about a foot in front of him before falling to the floor with a loud clang. He took a step and picked it up. “For all the good it does. People used to chase these things?”

  Mac leaned his head back and laughed. “For fun, boy,” he said. His laugh broke into a cough. “It’s a lost art.”

  He took out a small change purse from under his seat, but its size was deceptive. He could pull anything out of that thing. He deposited five silver coins in Zane’s hand.

  “Mac—” Zane tried to push his hand back but Mac pressed on.

  “This is your living, boy. Take it.” Delilah’s eyes misted when she saw the way they took care of him here. Then it turned to a snort when she thought of the potion in her pocket. Zane raised an eyebrow but there was no way she was telling him about it.

  “I told you, I won’t take it!” A voice echoed from outside and then the sounds of a scuffle. Not uncommon in the Banks. Most of the time the vendors regulated themselves, but with Rank’s cronies around anything could happen. Mac spit on the floor. “You shouldn’t stick around today,” he told Zane. “Something’s brewing. Rank’s looking for someone.” His milky gaze shot to Delilah before it dropped to the floor. It was no secret Rank took in more pretty girls for “questioning.” Delilah flushed and looked to the wall where a round, metal object hung.

  “What’s this?” She touched it.

  Mac stood, and using a cane for his bum leg, hobbled over to her. “Was called a hubcap,” he answered. “Used to be for cars. The ones with tires.”

  “What good is it now?” she asked.

  Mac gave her a look. “You’d be surprised. Some people value antiques. There are even some who want to bring back a piece of the past. I’ve seen a few actual cars, up and running.”

  “Build a car?” Zane cut in, laughing as he pocketed the silver pieces. “To run on what? Gasoline?” He spit the last word out.

  Mac shrugged. “Solar. Electric. Some people just want to build things the Authority doesn’t own.”

  Zane took a step closer to the old man and lowered his voice. “You’re talking about the Human Coalition? Mac, you know I—”

  Mac shushed him. “Not here, son. And not now.”

  “Zane—” Delilah warned. She knew how much he hated the bots’ rule, but they were so technologically superior there was no way to beat them. They’d had the argument a hundred times. Zane had a fascination with this shadow group who claimed to fight them.

  “I know.” He bit his lip as if he were about to say more, then the moment passed. “We have some chocolate to buy right now, anyway.” He offered Delilah an arm, and they walked to the door. Holding his arm was charged in a way holding Gen’s wasn’t. Strong. Steady. And full of…possibility.

  “Do your business quick, son,” Mac warned, hobbling back to his seat. “There’s a storm in the air, and I’m not talking about the weather.”

  In fact, the storm was right on top of them. A rumble of thunder shook the tent and gave Delilah a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She peeked out to see one of Rank’s men shoving his way into a neighboring stall. Zane took them out and headed the other way.

  “Maybe we should skip today,” she murmured as Gen followed them. Even the bot looked nervous, though she had no heartbeat to betray her.

  “One more stop,” Zane promised. He stepped back and looked down at her, trouble dancing in his brown irises. “You wouldn’t let a couple thugs keep you from chocolate, would you?”

  She looked back over her shoulder, trying to appear resolute as she tossed her long hair back. The men were gone. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. They had to wait until the shower was over, or leave Gen to catch up, anyway. “But let’s be quick.”

  The Banks gave her the willies on a good day, and while she knew how to navigate its tangled aisles, she was never really comfortable there. Today, though…something was off. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was the men going through stalls, but Delilah thought it went much deeper. A fight-or-flight instinct took over, and it told her to run.

  Zane slipped his arm through Delilah’s as if they were taking a casual stroll, a move he might have done a hundred times before. And sure enough, an Authority bot patrolled a side aisle. The newest Authority bots at least had the shape of humans, with round heads and human bodies, but their skin gleamed in silver, made to withstand any type of blow. It was over seven feet tall and indestructible. Delilah turned away before its red eyes focused on her, but it stopped at Mac’s stall before they turned the corner. Authority bots often took bribes, but it was more than that today. Another bot passed in front of them and she tucked her head down.

  “Try to relax,” Zane whispered in her ear. His breath pushed a curl off her shoulder and warmed the skin on her neck. She tried not to react, but her body had other ideas. This was Zane. Her partner in crime. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps breaking out on her arms, and clung to him.

  “Are you on another list?” Delilah asked him, casually stopping to check out a jewelry stall while the bot stopped at the next stall over. The bot argued with the stall’s wild-haired owned, Medusa, over a permit for the herbs and medicines she sold. Delilah slipped her hand in her pocket, remembering the vial in there. Anything goes in the Banks. There was an old expression—buyer beware. Zane reminded her of the phrase often.

  “I’m on more lists than I can keep track of.” Zane pulled his arm back and reached out to pick up a star-shaped ring. The rust on it was almost pretty. It had the appearance of something dated, but strong. A clear, opal stone with threads of blue was set in the middle—the kind of stone you could stare at for hours. The kind that made you think galaxies were trapped inside, and somewhere inside those galaxies they had a whole different life. One where they were free.

  He lifted her right hand and placed it on her finger. She wanted to argue, to tell him jewelry was for silly girls, and that it wasn’t practical. But when he slipped it on, she felt like it belonged there.

  “Looks good on there. One gold piece and it’ll be yours.” An overweight man in an apron got up from his stool and approached them. Delilah rushed to pull the ring off her finger. A gold piece was two weeks’ pay, not counting rent. They were stretched too thin for that.

&n
bsp; Zane stopped her and gave the man a long stare.

  “Oh. You,” the shop owner said with disdain, and spit on the floor. “Twenty silver pieces, kid. But that’s as low as I’ll go.”

  Zane dropped his hand. Delilah had managed to pull the ring off, and it rested in her palm. No one made a move to take it.

  “Crank, my friend.” Zane took the ring, and put an arm on Crank’s shoulder, pulling him a few steps into his stall. Delilah eyed the Authority bot nervously, but it was tied up at the next booth where Medusa swung her arms in righteous indignation. A risky move. Delilah almost admired her for it.

  “Have you forgotten the midnight raid?” Zane asked Crank. He turned and winked at Delilah. She had no knowledge of this midnight raid, but she knew when Zane turned the charm on. She tried to hide her smile and turn away, but heat rose in her cheeks.

  “Look, I’ve got a minimum to make, here,” Crank started to argue. In the next stall, the Authority bot turned on a bright spotlight to sweep through Medusa’s wares, and she howled. From the end of the row, more bots approached.

  “Zane—” Delilah warned.

  He turned and held out a finger for her to wait, then ducked his head with Crank’s. They conferred for another minute while Delilah bounced on her heels. Her heart beat through her chest, but she surely wasn’t alone in that. The Authority bots weren’t known for kindness. Medusa should have just paid the bribe. One of her vials flew across the stall and smashed in the hallway, attracting the attention of at least two other Authority bots, who came at them from both sides of the hallway. She screamed, and from inside her booth, a loud crack echoed that sounded like a bone being broken.

  “The quickest way out is through the hidden corridors in the west annex,” Gen snuck up and whispered in her ear.

  “Where have you been?” Delilah hissed. Gen’s usually neat hair was a ratty mess, as if she’d wrestled with someone, or made out with them. Blonde pieces stuck out here and there and Delilah pulled out a twig.

  “It’s no matter, but you should go. Zane is on the miscreant list.”

  Delilah rolled her eyes. Of course he was.

  “For?” she asked. Gen had access to the Authority mainframe. Strictly off the record, but her connection was good for snooping.

  Gen turned away. “Better you don’t ask.” The Authority bots dragged Medusa out, and Delilah called to Zane again.

  “Okay, I’m done.” Zane caught up with them and looked around. Authority bots cut off their escape to the right, and if Gen was right, Rank’s men were harassing people to the left. The west annex was off the beaten path though. The area was accessible through a series of complicated passages between stalls, unless you were bold enough to exit the Banks and circle around to its main entrance, which wasn’t an option at the moment. Besides, Zane knew the passages well. The annex housed even more suspicious stalls than the ones in the main area. Stalls where they wouldn’t care if Zane was an orphan, or a miscreant. Stalls which sold more than liquor and drugs.

  “Gen says through the west annex.” Delilah grit her teeth. She didn’t want to cause a stampede of people trying to get out, though even in this crowd, the amount of people who wanted to risk the west annex was low.

  “Well, I know my way there.” He was at least honest enough to appear guilty about it. He took a couple steps away from the Authority bots, turned left, and stopped to run his hand along a tent flap. The flood of people running down the aisles hid his actions from onlookers. She tucked closer to him, peering around to search for Gen. A sharp pain shot up her leg when someone stomped on her foot, and she shifted her weight to the other one.

  “We don’t really have time to stop,” Delilah said. She looked around nervously. She couldn’t see the Authority bots, but two of Rank’s men had turned the corner. Her hands trembled as all forms of Authority rained down on Medusa’s shop. Shop owners closed their tents, and patrons scurried through the aisles as if chased. None stopped to shop. None stopped to bargain. Something was going down.

  Zane surprised her by taking both her hands in his. People stopped to give him a dirty look as he blocked up the small aisle, but Delilah was too shocked to care.

  “What are you doing? We have to keep moving.”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish admonishing him. Someone shoved her from behind, and when she recovered she saw Zane had his palm out in front of her, the ring in hand.

  “I’ll have to pass on the ceremony,” he teased. His brown eyes searched hers as she focused on the tiny, clear stone in the middle, sitting there on his palm like a fallen star. Her jaw dropped. No one had bought her anything before, at least not of this worth. She took it in her thumb and finger, as precious as a bar of gold, which was what it was worth, at least. The background noise, including the sound of Medusa resisting arrest, fell back for a few seconds.

  “Zane—” She couldn’t finish the words before Gen shoved her hard, and she toppled into Zane. She had a good hold on the ring, though, and slipped it on her finger.

  “What?” She started to turn her head, but Gen had a hold on her shoulders.

  “Play along,” Zane stepped around Gen, who disappeared into the crowd. He was a head taller than Delilah so she had to crane her neck to look in his eyes. “Authority bots. Two o’clock.” She tried to turn her head, but Zane put a hand on her chin and somehow managed to make his grip both soft and final. “Don’t look. Honestly, you’d think this was your first escape attempt.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “The miscreant list, Zane?”

  He peered over her head. “Petty thievery.” He moved so he could see down the aisle and his face paled. “Shit. They’re coming this way. I’m sorry, Delilah, but I’m going to have to ask you to trust me.”

  And then, he kissed her.

  It wasn’t the heat of passion type of kiss. Chaste, really. Just a touching of lips, some pressure, nothing more, but something shifted.

  Her eyelids closed, and she forgot about the danger, the bots, and the surrounding market. His lips parted slightly, and she fell deeper into him. So many times she’d imagined kissing him, no matter how many times she told herself it was impossible. That it was a dream. They were only friends, and nothing more. This kiss washed all that away, and there was no more denying it. Maybe he was only getting away from Authority bots, but she was falling in love with him.

  No! She opened her eyes and pushed on his chest, but he had already turned away. He flushed, though. Surely he felt something? Something more than with all those other girls.

  “They’re gone.” He took her hand, and Gen pushed her again from behind. “Come on.”

  Delilah didn’t look forward to the west annex, but given a choice between being roughed up by Rank’s men, or taken in by Authority bots, it was the better alternative. Barely.

  “Is this really the best way?” Delilah mumbled. She rubbed her arm where Zane’s hand had been, not because it hurt, but because she still felt his touch burned into her skin. Because his hand was hot, she told herself. Zane’s blood ran hot. It always had, but that wasn’t the reason and she knew it. She dropped her hand to not look suspicious.

  “My sources say Rank hired extra security,” Gen replied in her usual monotone. She walked a step behind Delilah as they followed Zane through the hidden hallways flanked by tent flaps, the smell of the Banks all around them. At one point, the odor of rotten meat was so strong Delilah gagged. At other points, the path smelled like sweat and they walked over dirt. Once, the sweet aroma of the bakery was close, and she sighed, but Zane took lefts and rights and never paused. He knew the back way to the west annex, all right. He’d been there more than once. They passed a few people here and there and didn’t acknowledge any of them. Delilah stepped over someone passed out on the floor.

  Eventually, the corridor widened and stalls appeared, though to call them stalls was generous. Each ratty, tented of
f area hinted at sketchy or illegal business going on behind the flaps. The wares were even more questionable than the ‘potion’ in Delilah’s pocket, and the light was so dim she could hardly see. The top of the canvas dipped lower in this section of the Banks—added on later and without the clear sections where light could filter in. Instead, lanterns hung here and there but with no system in place. Broken edges shifted the light into patterns, and Delilah kicked glass out of their way as they walked through shadows.

  The bones of a small animal hung over a doorway, and as the hint of smoking potions wafted out, Delilah suppressed a shiver. Little straw dolls poked out of stalls, meant to be the bodies of your enemies. Half-dressed women peeked out behind curtains, giving Zane the once over. Some of them said hello or called to him. The smell of distilleries and vomit hovered in the air.

  “What are these sources of yours?” Delilah turned back to give Gen the once over, mostly to avoid the stares of passersby. Gen had access to Authority servers, but knowing about Rank’s movements? That was new. The bot patted down her hair, but it continued to stick up in places.

  “I don’t get all my information from the network,” she retorted. “Besides, I find human interaction… fun.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” Zane said. He paused at a brown tent flap. The pounding rain had ebbed, but it still tapped a beat on the canvas, and here and there streams poured through pinholes. Gen stepped around the puddles Delilah hoped were rainwater.

  “What’s this, then?” Delilah asked.

  Zane smiled, an award-winning grin meant to bend her to his will, but it didn’t work on her. It never had. “A shortcut,” he said.