Heir Ascendant (Faded Skies Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Well.” Barnes ran a hand over his hair. “That is a wrinkle no one was expecting.”

  “Can I go to Genna now or are you going to keep me locked up?” She bit back anger and acted ready to burst into tears. Not that they were too far away―one thought of Moth pointing a gun at her head and out they’d come.

  He mulled for a few more annoying minutes.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it won’t work.” She scratched the fork in figure-eights around the empty plate, drawing lines in the grease. “Vanessa doesn’t care.”

  “Would you be willing to record some videos to counteract Ascendant propaganda?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I forgot you’re like what, eight? Videos to―”

  “Nine, and I know what propaganda is. I had nothing to do at home but run e-learns and play games, and even a kid my age will eventually get bored with games.” She pulled her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. “If they believe it’s really me, they’ll want to kill me to shut me up. But, that would cost too much, so they’ll probably just accuse the Brigade of being desperate and using doctored video. I think it will backfire after the ransom demand.”

  He stared at her, lip twitching, but words seemed to elude the grasp of his brain.

  Maya buried her face in both hands and cried for real. “I don’t mind if you think it will help. I guess having her want me dead isn’t going to be worse than her not caring if I die.”

  Barnes leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head down. He mumbled a few nonsense things and wiped a hand over his mouth. A moment later, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “So you don’t want to go home?”

  She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Does Genna live here?”

  He nodded.

  “Then I am home. I don’t want to go back to that place. Everyone is sad there all the time. People only smile when they want to sell something. Vanessa threw me away and Genna almost died to protect me from that guy with metal arms. I want to stay with my mom.” She slid off the cot to her feet. “Please let me see her.”

  Eye contact lingered another few seconds before he shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, damn. This is going to ruffle some feathers on up the flagpole.”

  He offered a hand, which she took. When he pulled the door open, Weber startled. The white-haired man held a small assault rifle as well as wore one over his shoulder. He gave Barnes a confused look when Maya followed him into the hall.

  “Change of plans.” Barnes took the rifle from Weber’s hands and slung it over his back on a strap. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Kid’s not a guest. She’s moving in.”

  “I thought she believed she’d found Sam again.” Weber blinked. “You’re sayin’ Gen wasn’t delirious?”

  “Apparently not,” muttered Barnes.

  Barnes led her out of the short hallway that connected the holding cell to the elevator lobby and around a corner to a door she hadn’t noticed before. Beyond that, another hallway stretched past three doors on the left and a large box on the right that contained a folded-up firehose behind a transparent panel. At the end of the corridor, a set of glass double-doors offered a view of a parking lot full of trash, surrounded by a fence. About ten paces past the fire cabinet, Barnes pushed open another red-painted door, which led to a bare concrete stairwell.

  Dusty child-sized footprints inside made her feel a little safer, and she followed him up the switchback stairs. On the fourth floor, a stylized black spray-paint rendition of an Authority helmet peered out of a circle above the caption ‘We are watching.’ Maya felt an odd urge to shy away from it, despite thinking of the officers as fools or annoyances before. Vanessa certainly had no respect for the blueberries. On paper, the Authority had the power and Ascendant was only a company―though at least in Baltimore, they did whatever Vanessa wanted.

  She kept her gaze down, mindful of stepping on painful things, though the floor here looked better kept than she’d expected. On the seventh story, Barnes went left to a door instead of right to the next flight of stairs. He pushed it open and entered a blue-carpeted hallway. Bare patches of concrete peeked out from random tears in the rug among numerous stains. Maya put her free hand over her nose at the scent of moldering sweat socks hanging in the air. Six steps down the corridor, her foot mushed into a patch of cold wetness; she cringed, barely managing not to shriek.

  The stairwell door closed with a whump behind them. Seconds later, a pale, freckled, redheaded girl a little older than Maya stuck her head out of a doorway at the farthest apartment on the left. Her hair dangled well past her waist, and a dirty once-white garment draped loose around her, hanging in several tiers as though someone had wrapped the girl up in a curtain.

  Maya’s breaths shortened. She couldn’t remember ever having other children around her, and a sudden spate of nervousness pinned her gaze to the floor. She’d grown used to being surrounded by adults who either treated her like a short grown-up or ran away from her in fear of saying the wrong thing and invoking Vanessa’s wrath.

  Barnes stopped at the fifth door on the right side, tapped it twice in a rudimentary version of a knock, and walked into a living room containing a simple rectangular table with fake wood grain in front of a couch covered in sand-brown cloth. Like the hallway carpet, it bore numerous stains. At the far left corner, a short passage appeared to lead to a bedroom. Nearer on the left sat a tiny kitchenette stuffed with debris. Maya hesitated at the door, peering down the hall at the other girl who had continued staring at her. The redhead raised a hand to wave hello, but Barnes tugged Maya into the apartment.

  “Genna?” asked Barnes.

  A fatigued moan emanated from the inner corridor.

  Maya broke away from his grip on her hand and darted across the room. A bathroom shot by on the right, and she two-palmed the bedroom door out of her way. A desk sat straight ahead, littered with papers, old books, and a trio of brown plastic pill bottles. Genna lay on her side facing the entrance on a bed all the way against the left wall. Gauze and bandages covered her injured eye, and blue plastic lattice surrounded her right arm, a 3D-printed cast. Her loose-fitting black shirt bared one shoulder, the rest of her covered by a sheet.

  “Mom!” yelled Maya. She raced to the bed, climbed on top of it, and flopped on Genna.

  The woman hissed and gasped, abandoning her attempt to sit up. “Maya…”

  Barnes appeared in the doorway. “Hon, don’t squeeze her so hard. She’s in a lot of pain.”

  Maya sat back on her heels, kneeling next to her on the thin mattress. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well shit. If you’re acting, you’re damn good at it.” Barnes set his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Just in case you are, I wouldn’t go running off. It ain’t safe out there for a kid alone.”

  “She ain’t fakin’,” said Genna, sounding half-awake. “‘Cendant shits on everything it touches.”

  “I’m two rooms down on the other side. Number 137. If you need anything, come get me.” Barnes hovered in the doorway. “Oh, Gen… Don’t worry about gettin’ down to see Mason. I dealt with your rent this month.”

  Maya blinked. “Wait… you have to pay rent to live in this place? It’s falling apart.”

  “Probably a pittance to what you’re used to seeing for rent,” said Barnes. “What’s your mo―I mean Vanessa pay for the place they found you?”

  She stared at him. “I’m nine. I don’t know. Didn’t you just take this place over? These are ruins.”

  Barnes laughed. “Naw. It’s not quite as feral as they tell you inside the Sanc. There’s still civilization in the Hab. You’re thinking of the Dead Space. We have some Authority patrols, but not the tons of armed drones like inside the wall. Landlord will eventually kick people out who don’t pay.” He smiled at Genna. “You’ve been busy with us past couple weeks, so we figured you hadn’t been doing much else. Harlowe’s got you covered.”

  A doped-up grin formed on her lips. “Brigade’s good to its people.”

/>   “Whatever you’re paying for this place, it’s too much.” Maya frowned.

  “Beats a plastiboard box.” Genna cringed, gasping.

  Barnes saluted her and left.

  “Does it hurt?” asked Maya.

  She smiled when Genna reached up with her good arm and took her hand.

  “I’ma be okay. Little loopy for a couple days. Doc fixed the bone, but it’ll take a while for the fusion to harden.” She cringed and rolled flat on her back. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Maya eased herself against Genna’s left side. Human contact still felt strange―comforting and frightening at the same time.

  Genna coughed and stifled a groan of pain. “Not scared?”

  “A little. I had a bad dream.”

  Fingers stroked through her hair. Though not tired at all, Maya closed her eyes.

  “What did you dream about?”

  Maya gulped. “Moth.”

  “Yeah.” Genna made a wheeze that seemed like an attempt not to laugh. “I think I’ma have nightmares ‘bout his ass too.”

  She fidgeted. “I’m not afraid of his ass. I’m afraid of his robot arms.”

  “Ow. Stop making me laugh.” Genna wheezed.

  Maya grinned and snuggled closer.

  he whine of drone fans tugged Maya out of sleep. Disorientation left her thinking she woke up back in her old room. She clambered out of bed and rushed the five steps to the sliding patio door on autopilot, standing at attention with one eye closed. A trio of small lights, two red and one green, drifted across the predawn sky. She stared past a haze of eye crumbs at the unmanned craft slipping among the forest of near-identical skyscrapers.

  Unable to hold it in, she let out a yawn. Her former life, and new reality, faded back into memory. The flyer had no markings other than the lights. Relief let her breathe again. It didn’t make sense for the Authority to send a patrol unit out this far. Authority drones never swooped in on people and scanned them the way the Ascendant units did―they responded to active crimes or hung overhead as deterrents. The machine glided along in a gradual leftward turn, gleaming as it entered a patch of moonlight. Six long wires with tiny pods every few feet, three per wing, trailed after it.

  It’s testing the air.

  Maya yawned again and stretched. The room had nothing resembling a clock, but signs of blue lightened the sky between the buildings across the street. She backed away from the patio door and approached the desk, idly kicking at flimsy plastic bowls littering the floor. Stacks of old papers lay strewn around a long-dead computer terminal. Despite the battered condition of the electronics, she prodded the power button anyway. As expected, it did nothing.

  She sighed. The AuthNet had been her lifeline for so long that the idea of being cut off from it got her heart to beat faster. Technology had been her teacher, babysitter, friend, and timekill for as long as she could remember. A frown started to form, but dissipated when she glanced left to the bed, where Genna remained in a medicated slumber. Maybe she could give this ‘other people’ thing a chance. She thought back to that red-haired girl watching her and shivered. How was she supposed to react to other children? What if that girl didn’t like her? Maybe she could hide in here and avoid her. Ascendant executives had nothing on the intimidation factor of having to deal with kids. No article she’d ever read on the AuthNet prepared her for social interaction with peers.

  Her gaze settled on a handgun at the left corner of the desk once the spike of worry faded. The same weapon that might’ve shot Headcrash, though Moth had finished him. It fascinated as much as horrified her. She leaned close, keeping her hands behind her back since she didn’t trust herself touching a firearm. Children shouldn’t handle guns, and despite being smart, she remained nine years old. Besides, in case Genna woke up, she didn’t want her to freak out and hurt herself pouncing to take the gun away. Safely away from touching it, but still fascinated, Maya studied all the little buttons and moving parts.

  With nothing else of interest aside from a closet with a few pairs of black military pants, some woman’s shirts, and another set of combat boots, Maya crept into the hall. A short distance from the bedroom, the bathroom on the left offered welcome relief. Black stuff smeared on the white tile walls near the ceiling made her feel like she’d slipped into a horror movie. The tub at least looked clean and even had a few bottles of peach, white, and pink hair care products that looked as out of place as she felt. Alas, it didn’t have a machine in the wall to do her hair.

  A short while later, Maya hopped off the toilet, flushed, and grinned at the tub. This place didn’t have an annoying computer in the walls that would shut off net access and make alarm noises if she tried to skip bath time. Of course, it’s not like she had net access anymore anyway. Her smile faded to a smirk and she trudged out to the dark living room. Based on the condition of the terminal, she didn’t even try the TV. The flat panel hung on the wall to the right of an open archway leading to a kitchen. She wandered in, rounded a small table with four chairs, and headed for the fridge.

  Opening it required both hands and a couple of tries flinging all her weight into pulling. The door peeled away with the crackle of failing rubber, exposing a room-temperature chamber filled with a stink so pungent it drew bile into the back of her throat before her brain consciously processed the foul stench. Gagging and coughing, Maya stumbled back and kicked it closed. Whatever had once been in the bottles and boxes behind that door had ceased being food and counted as weaponized.

  She hurried up to the sink and hung her face over it, heaving. Nausea passed in a few minutes, with little more than a tendril of drool coming up. Faint scratching from within a tiny vent fan by the two-burner stove caught her attention. Maya froze, staring at the grease-stained slats and the short length of pull chain. It’s a vent. The wind is blowing something around.

  Maya took a step closer, leaning forward, trying to peer into the darkness of the air duct.

  A tiny pink paw gripped a slat a split second before the nose and whiskers of a curious rat emerged.

  She screamed and ran to the living room, jumped on the couch, and pulled her feet up off the floor. Without being surrounded by people eager to kill her, she didn’t need to swallow her disgust at rats. Her fear of ick (roaches and rats among them) had paled to the terror of Moth, so she hadn’t even twitched when the roach walked over her foot. Feeling relatively safe and calm in here, if anything shiny, black, and a few inches long moved across the rug now, she’d scream.

  Genna moaned from the back room.

  At a knock, she twisted to look at the door. It opened, and a Chinese man entered. His expression of concern eased to a smile when he spotted her. He lacked the voluminous grey poncho-coat that everyone out here seemed to own, instead wearing a plain white tee and blue BDU-style pants. He set a small case on the coffee table and approached.

  “Hello, little one. I’m Doctor Chang.” He smiled. “You must be the new arrival Barnes was talking about. Are you all right? I heard a scream.”

  Maya sat straight. The man seemed friendly enough, and if he was the same person who helped Genna, she owed him at least being pleasant. “I saw a giant rat.”

  “Ahh. Alas, this building has some furry neighbors. You should avoid touching them, but they are not aggressive. He’s more afraid of you than you are of him.”

  She fidgeted. “I’m not afraid of it. I don’t want it touching me.”

  Doctor Chang took a knee and gave her a brief once-over, peering into her eyes, holding her wrist, and looking over visible bruises. He grasped her left calf and lifted her leg, tracing his thumb back and forth over a discoloration on her shin. “What happened here?”

  “I hit a pipe or something.”

  He let her leg drop against the cushion. “You don’t know?”

  Maya shrugged. “I was tied up in a bag at the time. I couldn’t see.”

  “What?” He gasped. A second later, the surprise left him. “Oh. Right. Wow. I can’t imagine what things mu
st’ve been like for you to decide to stay here. Guess the grass isn’t always greener. If… you ever need to talk about anything, I’m a good listener.”

  “There isn’t much grass there.” Her serious expression lasted another five seconds before she smiled.

  He chuckled and stood. “I’m going to check on Genna.”

  “How long is she going to sleep?” Maya slid forward on the cushion until her feet touched rug.

  “Well, it’s not like we get the latest meds out here. The best thing I’ve got on hand for pain is Dendritin.”

  She scrunched her eyebrows together. “That’s a surgical anesthetic. It’s not for pain.”

  He laughed. “You’re right, but it’s the best I’ve got. That’s why she’s so sleepy, and also why I’m stopping in three times a day. Dose management is critical.”

  Guilt settled in her gut, displacing her forming appetite. Good medicine was for Citizens. Not that Ascendant refused it, but Nons could rarely afford it. Jobs with decent pay seldom went to those without Citizen credentials.

  Doctor Chang patted her on the head and walked off toward the bedroom.

  A squeak emanated from her left. Maya startled and whipped her head around. The porcelain-skinned redhead she’d seen the other day brushed the door out of her way, still wearing the same dingy off-white wrap of cloth. Without her half hiding in a doorway, it looked like a gauzy shirt made for a massively fat adult wrapped several times around her into a multilayered sorta-dress. Here and there, the glint of safety pins stuck out, proving the garment had been made of a single strand of fabric wound about her. Grime covered her feet, caked in around her toenails. The only part of her even close to clean was her face. Up close, she seemed definitely older than Maya, but had to be under twelve. Her stark blue eyes widened with curiosity.

  “Hi,” said the girl. “I’m Sarah, but everyone ‘round here calls me Faerie on account o’ me bein’ Irish. Can I come in?”