What about the dead man whom she could have saved? She felt a pang of guilt when she remembered the man in the kitchen she’d tranquilized. He was likely dead too once the droids had found him. Now she had two more deaths to add to her list.
Gatz had wrapped her shoulder in a tight bandage. She started to pull it off, but he slapped her hand away after sneaking up behind her.
She glared at him.
He crossed his arms. “I don’t owe you any answers after you abandoned me. If I recall, you also knocked me down and held me at gunpoint. I try to give you a job, and that’s the thanks I get. I might as well have been mugged.”
Ida couldn’t hide a tiny smile at the memory of knocking him down. “You led me into a trap. I should have left you.”
“What happened to you? Huh? What made you so mad at the world? Haven’t you ever had to ask anyone for help?”
She glanced away, trying her best to look nonchalant. “Nope. I take care of myself.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gatz. “I have no doubt. Let’s play a game. I tell you something and then I get to ask you a question.”
“Questions and answers? Or is this truth or dare?”
“No dares. Straight truth.”
She climbed slowly onto a seat at the bar. “Fine,” she muttered. “But I go first. What was your piece of info you told those men?”
“Very well. I told them I believe the mayor and his people are poisoning or programming returning soldiers to go berserk.”
She tensed. “How? Why would he do that?”
“You get one question and answer at a time. My turn.”
Her gloved hands curled into fists, and between clenched teeth she asked, “How do you know this?”
“Okay, your turn again. I have a wide network. In this city, information is like gold. A source told me.”
She hopped off her bar stool. “Hold on. You didn’t really answer.”
“I can’t reveal my source.”
She faced him with fierce eyes. “What did your source say exactly?”
Gatz crossed his arms. “My source said it may have to do with how the returning soldiers are discharged. Some are selected for a kind of experiment run by Vance’s office. It’s very secretive.”
“And? Any other details you care to share?”
“My source didn’t have many details, just that it might be poison.”
Ida paced the length of the bar, biting her nails. “What? How?”
“Do you get a supply of food or rations from the government?”
She considered. “No. I order my own protein packs, and other than that, go out for food.”
“What about other soldiers like you? Might they get food supplies shipped?”
“I don’t know any soldiers here in Spark City.”
Gatz paused, watching her. “If we’re going to get to the bottom of this, it’s time for you to make friends.”
Nineteen
Lucy traveled along the path from her apartment to Ida’s place the next day. The morning mist that often rolled in from the lake had wound its way among the grass and in between tall trees. She inhaled deeply. This was her favorite time of day, before the city came to life. She felt free in these early morning moments.
Ida’s motorcycle was covered by a large camouflage cloth and parked behind a bush.
The tin Lucy carried had cooled, becoming easier to handle. She knocked on the large wooden door. After a few moments, she banged again, then finally heard movement inside.
The door swung open. Ida’s crimson hair was a mess of tangles. She looked as though she’d just woken up and, judging by her red, puffy eyes, it’d been a rough night.
“Oh, hi. It’s me,” said Lucy.
Ida squinted at the outside brightness, then focused on Lucy. She pulled her inside, quickly closing the door.
Lucy took a few steps, surprised at not being brushed off this time.
Ida hurried over to stairs that led to a small window that faced the front. “Did anyone follow you?”
“Huh? Wha—? No,” said Lucy. She held out the tin. “My mom made these cookies for you. She wanted to say thanks. She’s really grateful for you saving her life.”
Ida continued staring outside, scanning the view before rejoining Lucy. She took the tin, shook it, then snagged two cookies, practically inhaling them.
Lucy glanced around. The place was a mess. Large packing crates remained unopened. An army green air mattress lay on the floor with a sleeping bag. From the looks of it, Ida wasn’t planning to entertain anytime soon.
Ida searched inside a backpack, ignoring Lucy. She retrieved a can of water and protein jerky.
“My mom’s really doing much better now,” Lucy said. “I guess she had a wakeup call, you know? She’s even started getting up in the mornings, and she’s been calling around to the city offices. She’s also applied for us to get financial assistance—you know, on account of her being unemployed and me being seventeen. She even started buying food again and cooking. She used to cook a lot before the…before she started using.”
Ida gulped down her water and reached for another. “Is that so? How do you know she’s not going to use again?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking. I went into her phone and deleted a ton of numbers I didn’t know. She didn’t seem to care. Or maybe she hasn’t noticed yet. I figure if I can keep her away from the people who were giving her drugs in the first place, that would be really good.”
Ida leaned against the wall. “It’s a start, but you’re going to have to watch her closely.”
“Yeah, I know.” Lucy shrugged. “Paul said he’d help look out for me if any jerks come to the apartment. He also helped me get the key changed.”
“Good. I’m glad things are looking up for you. I gotta tell you, I’m exhausted. I had a hell of a night last night.”
“What happened?” asked Lucy.
Ida narrowed her eyes, and Lucy got the hint there would be no recount of events.
“So, I need to sleep for a few hours before I can feel like a normal person again. Thank your mom for me.” Ida started for the door.
Lucy stood her ground. “I want to repay you for saving my mom.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“My offer still stands. Cleaning, food prep, gardening. I’m really good with all that stuff. I need to learn how to fight and to use a knife.”
“Why?” Ida asked sharply.
Lucy hesitated. “I want to be able to protect myself.” She balled her fists as she recalled the night her mom had overdosed. “In case one of my mom’s druggie creeps return and threaten me again, or try to hurt my mom.”
“Again? Someone threatened you?”
“Yes.”
Ida pulled the door open. “Tomorrow, same time. Your first lesson.”
Lucy grinned and thrust a thin, digital card at Ida, forcing her to take it. She waved goodbye as she ran home.
Shaking her head, Ida read the screen—a flyer for a student art exhibition—the one Lucy had mentioned a few days ago.
The event was tonight, near the river.
Twenty
“Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this act of violence against one of our city’s most prized landmarks.” Vance Drem paused and scanned the crowd of citizens gathered in front of him on an afternoon made frosty by a sudden cold front.
He gazed at Nancy, who stood in the front next to J-Man. “It’s not a coincidence the destruction of the planetarium happened last night. No,” he said, his voice strong. “My citizens, the group behind the attack is a known terrorist organization, and they had stolen information about my plans to rebuild the planetarium.”
He paused for dramatic effect. “Today was to be the unveiling of plans for a grand new imagining of the planetarium.” Vance balled his gloved hand into a fist, waving it. “Fellow citizens of Spark City, hear me when I say we will bring the terrorist faction to justice. For now, we must demolish what remains of the old planetarium. T
he structure is unsound, and I can’t risk endangering any lives. But I will finish what I started and build an incredible monument to take its place.”
He glanced at the crowd and journalists who had assembled. The press had long ago learned to stay quiet and never ask questions. Waving goodbye, Vance climbed into a waiting limo air cruiser.
Inside, he rested against a cushioned seat, his mouth twisted. Across from him, Nancy quietly wished for his mood to turn on someone else, anyone but her.
“Nancy, where is our next appointment?” asked J-Man.
She hastily grabbed her purse and brought out a small planner book. “221 Rock Ledge Avenue,” she said, loud enough for the driver to hear.
Vance removed his gloves, revealing his cybernetic hands. “With whom?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“A gentleman by the name of Cordon. Alex Cordon. He requested a private appointment with you. Said he had met you before and has a gift for you.”
Singlet piped up. “Cordon. I can vouch for that guy. He did work for you in the past.”
Vance grimaced. “Do you have those pain pills, J-Man?”
The man seated next to him reached into a pocket and pulled a small pill bottle out. Vance popped five at once.
Shortly, they arrived at their destination. In a dingy area, the address was no longer a building. Whatever it had once been, had burned down. Outside, a man waited. “That’s him,” said Singlet.
“This a good guy?” Vance asked, one of his metal thumbs pointing to Cordon.
Singlet shrugged. “Was when I knew him. Heard a while back he’d gotten deep into the jade. That’s why we stopped using him. He started showing up late or not at all. Unreliable, you could say.”
“Wait here, I’ll talk to him privately.” Vance popped open the cruiser door and climbed out. His long black coat swayed in the wind, and his figure was imposing even without his new steel exposed.
Cordon eyed him warily. “Hello, sir.” He coughed.
“Greetings. Mr. Cordon, I presume?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Cordon swayed side to side, trying to stay warm. He’d underdressed for the frigid morning.
“Well?” said Vance.
“I…I have information you’ll be interested in. I’m willing to part with it. For a price.”
With greater restraint than usual, Vance waited for him to continue. Be patient, there’s something here, he thought.
“Two days ago, I was with a lady. She OD’d. I saw it myself. Hell, I gave her the dose myself. Man, I was out of it, but having fun and wanted to see how far things could go.” A cruel smile crept across his face. “I wanted to see how much she could take, kinda like my own little experiment.”
Losing patience, Vance forced a thin smile.
“So I left, but I kept a small camera there to see what would happen with her daughter.” He coughed. “Her daughter was kind of hot, you know what I mean? I figured a camera left behind would be fun.”
Vance nodded and rocked back on his heels. A mental image of the men he had tortured to avenge his mother flashed through his mind—cruel men like this one.
Cordon continued, “So’s next thing I know this other lady comes in, and a boy—a teenager, same age as the girl. And you know, this time, the mom who OD’d, she’d been out for at least an hour. Weirdest thing I ever saw.” He paused. “You’re not going to believe me, but I have the video to prove it.”
“Prove what?” asked Vance, his icy breath snaking out in wispy tendrils.
“This lady—she healed her.” Cordon started swaying from side to side like he couldn’t control his excitement. “She brought her back to life somehow. Just by touching her.”
Vance squinted at Cordon. “This is an interesting story, Mr. Cordon. Interesting information after all. You’re sure the events are captured on your video?”
“Definitely. I thought about asking around to a few places, looking for a buyer, but you were my first choice, Mr., uh, Mayor Drem.”
Vance raised a hand. “Please, spare the formality. You say you have video proof of a woman with healing power who saved an overdosing woman from certain death.”
Cordon nodded.
“And where is this video? What’s your asking price?”
Cordon licked his lips. “Thirty grand.”
Vance tilted his head. “That seems reasonable. Where is it?”
“It’s hidden. I get the cash, you get the location.”
“Very strategic, Mr. Cordon. Since I don’t generally carry that kind of cash on me, won’t you accompany me as we complete the transaction?”
Cordon allowed himself a smile. “Certainly, happy to.”
Vance noted Cordon’s cold sweat, an obvious withdrawal symptom. Probably from the designer drug, jade, which had ravaged the city in the last year. An aging junkie who enjoys watching women overdose. It will be fun killing him with my bare steel hands, he thought as he climbed into the cruiser after Cordon got in.
Twenty-One
That night, Ida struggled with whether she should turn up at the art show or go see Gatz for information.
She’d watched the news coverage of the planetarium. After they’d escaped, the police droids had destroyed the landmark building by exploding multiple bombs. Worse, Drem had staged it as a terrorist attack and sworn to find the criminals and bring them to justice.
Ida had a decent idea what justice meant in Vance Drem’s terms. This was exactly what she had feared about getting involved with Gatz. The mayor was up to no good, and now their lives were in danger.
So much for flying under the radar.
Could Gatz’s conspiracy theory about Drem poisoning soldiers be true? On his advice, she’d gone to a bar frequented by former soldiers. She’d dropped in that afternoon and struck up a conversation with another patron—a guy who’d returned a week before she had. Ida quizzed him on whether he had received food, water, medicine—anything supplied by the military or the city. She made it sound like they hadn’t gotten their fair shake, that returning soldiers in other cities were receiving more support.
After an hour, she’d emerged with nothing. Ida didn’t see how soldiers were being poisoned or programmed to be dangerous. She’d finally asked the former soldier, Brandt, what had happened to their fellow soldiers to turn them so violent. He only shook his head and ordered another shot of whiskey.
Either Gatz’s source was wrong, lying, or she was missing information. Had he deceived her to distract her from something else?
She thought better of going to Dox. Best not to show how badly she needed info. Instead, she would check out the art show. It would be good for her to get out. She’d been home thinking and researching online, but being cooped up in her place wasn’t going to make things better. She was a sitting duck for Vance’s police.
After a quick shower, Ida glanced in the mirror and ran her hands through her wet hair. Her short bob would dry quickly, but she threw a black baseball cap on anyway. Red lipstick plus her usual outfit of tee, leather jacket, black pants, and boots completed her look.
The art expo was downtown, near the river, in an old city auditorium. Ida parked her motorcycle after finding an empty spot on Rochester street.
As she entered the hall, she took in the size and scope of the expo, surprised to find so many people there. Aisles of small tents housed artist displays of paintings and other artwork. She wound her way through rows upon rows of oil paintings, charcoal sketches, and photographs. Fascinated, she stopped at one artist’s booth to take in his paintings of Spark City. She couldn’t stop staring at one painting in particular. It showed the city’s riverscape in muted sienna shades. She studied it so long the man in the tent finally asked her what she thought.
“It’s, I…” Ida rarely found herself lost for words. “The city is beautiful.”
The artist smiled. “I’m glad I was able to capture that.”
She regained her senses, stuffed her hands into her pockets, and muttered, “Thanks.”
She traveled another circuit among the tents before finding Lucy’s booth which she shared with four other teenage artists. A few of her paintings hung on the side of the tent, while others were propped up on the table or positioned strategically on the ground.
Lucy’s face lit up. “Hey, Ida!” She emerged from behind the table. “I’m so glad you came. Can you believe the turnout? It’s amazing! I’ve already sold two pieces.”
“Wow, that’s great,” said Ida, taking in her artwork. “Your work…” she paused, “It’s wonderful. You have real talent.”
Lucy blushed. “Thanks. It means so much to me.”
Ida glanced around the large hall. “This is something. I had no idea so many people would be here.”
Lucy smiled. “Yeah, we’re thrilled. People need art in their lives, it turns out.”
They lingered for a moment before Lucy said she had something behind the table to show Ida. “It’s an unveiling. I’ve been waiting to show you. It wasn’t ready until today.” She stepped into the tent and emerged with a large painting wrapped in brown paper. Lucy slid it across the table to Ida. “A gift.”
“What?” Ida said. “Kid, I don’t need anything from you.”
“Please, open it.” Lucy’s eyes shone bright.
Ida slid a gloved finger underneath a piece of tape and removed the wrapping to reveal the backside of the painting. She carefully turned it over and frowned.
“You don’t like it?”
Ida struggled for words. “Is that supposed to be me?”
“Yes.”
The painting showed a gloved woman holding a gun pointing up in each hand. Complete with black leather jacket, brown pants, and combat boots, there was no mistaking it was Ida. Lucy had captured the details of her face and dark crimson hair.
Even more striking was the background. Lucy had painted Spark City’s skyline in the distance, and behind Ida, on one side, a line of android police gathered. On the other side, an army of citizens—humans and hybrid—held their ground.
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