by Lyz Russo
30 March 2116, 6:05 am
Loud banging on the white-painted door that was splintering with age. Louder banging. And an impatient grip on the door handle, forcing it.
The old lock gave way. The door swung inwards. The uniformed crew entered, with guns lifted high. Not stun guns; real fire. The little house was quiet. Too quiet.
They made their cautious way through the rooms, first the tight living-cum-dining room, the ridiculously short passage where three bedrooms and a bathroom connected; pushed the only closed door open, lifted their firearms -
“Check the other rooms! Check the bathroom! All the windows!” The young charge-sergeant personally looked under the bed. There was nothing; as opposed to what was on the bed.
So she was dead. He checked the pulse of the woman lying there drenched in her own blood. Accurate. Then where were the three?
“They’re not here, sir.”
Damn.
6:50 am
“They’re gone!”
The man in grey faced his equally grey officer’s wrath.
“How did you let them get away? They are dangerous!”
“We don’t know, Captain-Major. Technically there should have been no opportunity for them to escape. We were watching them this whole past week.”
“Find them!”
“Yes, Captain-Major!”
30 March 2116, 9:59 am
Tights. Toothbrush. Transmitter. Tarot deck.
The girl smoothed down her sleek black hair and threw a sidelong look at herself in the narrow hallway mirror as she left the apartment. Check. Still myself. No parsley between teeth. No beauty. No big deal. She glanced back at the empty flat she left behind; all traces of her erased, as though the only thing that had dwelt here between the last tenant and now had been time. Home? No. No such a thing. Wherever she was sent, there she went.
This assignment had her excited. She had never worked on a ship before. She almost smiled as she slunk down to the harbour.