Nylon Angel

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Nylon Angel Page 13

by Marianne de Pierres


  As soon as I'd pitched the second Wizard I bolted down the stairs. If there were any left awake out there I'd have to take them myself; one moment longer and the north and west attack'd be all over my back.

  I hit the driveway at three-quarter pace and accelerated into a full sprint as soon as I reached the lawn. The charm had done its job and the body count seemed right, so I flattened into a dead run over the final stretch.

  Armageddon's mother broke loose around the back of the house. The two other 'copters had lifted off after me, leaving their groundies to follow up.

  A heartbeat away from the south 'copter, a shot grazed my kneecap. I rolled the last distance in agony. If I'd been wearing my overalls instead of the jellyfish it would have deflected.

  Frigging dresses!

  I let off a return shot from my sniper and with difficulty hauled myself up over the pilot. His leg was caught in the safety harness, his unconscious body hanging out the door.

  Inside the 'copter's comm band was crazy with orders. A sliver of satisfaction wedged in amongst my fear and pain. I was giving them some grief.

  I stared at the panel of LEDs and touch-pads and panicked.

  I couldn't fly this thing. I couldn't fly any damn thing!

  The pain above my knee made it hard to breathe, let alone think. Yet the prospect of a life sentence in a Viva jail sent my fingers galloping over the panel of their own free will.

  The machine can fly itself. All you have to do is tell it to.

  The thought came through clear and strident inside my head like a voice—but not. Any other time I would have balked at hearing voices but right now I'd take any advice, sensory delusion or not.

  " 'Copter, take off!" The 'copter bucked and lifted about two meters off the ground before landing again. Shots were beginning to rock the cabin.

  You've confused it. It only follows a set pattern of commands and your voice isn't recognizable. It's not sure what to do.

  Is it sentient? I asked my inner voice.

  Of course it isn't, snapped the voice, it's just a machine, not even a very smart one.

  Angel? I ventured tentatively.

  It didn't bother to reply.

  The pilot stirred and hope flared within me. Maybe I could force him to fly me out of here. I hauled him upright and screamed threats in his ear. But he went limp again.

  Drop the pilot.

  What?

  Drop the pilot. You can't fly with him hanging from the door. Drop the creature!

  Blind obedience isn't my strong point these days—especially to foreign voices in my head—but I could see its point. I flicked the pilot's belt clasp and he cartwheeled to the ground.

  Now find the takeoff protocol.

  I furiously scrolled through help screens, maintenance checks, configuration parameters—

  "Got it!" I shouted and initiated the sequence.

  I took a deep breath. " 'Copter, fly!"

  Nothing.

  Call it by its name!

  What do you mean its name? I keyed for the startup menu and searched. "Model Wasp, Keanu Class, Seventy-three A… Fly!"

  Begrudgingly it lifted and nosed south, flying too low over the congestion of agitated 'pedes.

  You need altitude, or one of those legged creatures will finish you. Get it up!

  Get it up yourself, I hissed at my unseen copilot. The last thing I wanted was to be farther from the ground.

  Two more are closing. A general alert is out. Deploy the incendiary weapons.

  Incendiary? How?

  With immense difficulty I forced my eyes away from the scene of my doom and feverishly scrolled through the manual pages.

  I think it's—

  You think… ?

  The harder I concentrated on the words, the more unreadable they became. Panic had me. What happened to the cool, calm anger?

  I took a deep, shaky breath and tried again. "It's got to be these."

  Terror had paralyzed my mind, but my hands moved of their own volition, pressing in codes.

  Four missiles deployed from the rear shoots. They went way wide of the pursuing 'copters, but it bothered my tailgaters enough that they dropped back and veered off. At least that was what I thought with a split second of relief.

  ESCAPE! NOW!

  A deafening explosion.

  My top blades shot forward off the lid of the cabin, lasered neatly from the body like a hot knife through cheese. I bailed as the 'copter dropped like a stone into the moat.

  How I survived the fall and the wreck is a total mystery. But I surfaced gulping and choking, caftan billowing like a parachute and burning debris scattered everywhere.

  Engine noise.

  Shouts.

  I tried to tear my sodden dress off but it was bunched and twisted around my legs, and then there was the small matter of the speedboat powered up and heading straight toward me.

  For a minute I thought it was trying to run me over and I gulped in air, ready to dive. But at the last second it slowed and swerved.

  A figure stretched over the side, hands trailing like a scoop in the water. I recognized the outline of the figure.

  Loyl Daac!

  Our hands connected in a watery slap, and as the boat started to move I was dragged like a fish thrashing on a hook as he gradually reeled me in.

  Together we collapsed in the bottom of the boat.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I spluttered. My body felt numb from the fall and the buffeting of the water. My knee hurt. I coughed up water ungratefully. "I don't need rescuing."

  "You didn't have to take my hand!" he muttered, extricating his legs from mine.

  I watched as he slid away from me across the deck and slithered down the cabin steps.

  The boat accelerated dangerously, slamming around the moat in a wild dash. I slid from one side to the other and cracked my head before I wised up and grabbed a rope hitch.

  Ibis was in the driver bubble up to my left, his plump body molded like putty around the steering wheel. Daac had said he could get me anywhere in Viva. But could they get me out?

  Why would they get me out?

  I closed my eyes and gripped the handhold with all my strength. If I survived, I'd have plenty of time to ask questions.

  The next thing I knew Daac was shouting at me. He slid what looked like a deflated octopus across the deck and barked, "Suit up."

  I caught it awkwardly between my legs and then loosed one hand to grab it. My bad knee shrieked with pain. Holding on with the other hand I managed to hook my left foot in, then the right. I wriggled like crazy to get it up to my waist.

  That's as far as I'd got when the first torpedo detonated near the bow.

  A warning? Or a missed hit? Ibis slewed the boat in a radical sideways move, without slowing, and I vaguely registered houses looming on both sides. We were heading into the M'Grey Island canals.

  Comprehension eased my dismay. The 'copters had to be careful what kind of artillery they employed in the canals. Wouldn't do to damage some toff's holiday pad.

  From my position, spread-eagled across the bottom of the boat, I watched the 'copters descend on us like a swarm of wasps, squirting sprays of fire.

  But Ibis was ready. The whole topside glimmered with the net of a security field. I recognized it immediately. This boat belonged to Razz Retribution.

  Instinctively I ducked my head as the field crackled. The boat rocked dangerously.

  "Parrish, get the suit on," shouted Daac. "The hood will seal and oxygenate. It hums when it's working. When I tell you, fasten it."

  "What then?" I shouted louder, so he could hear me over the noise of the artillery.

  He spared me a grin. "Hope you can swim."

  I felt the boat slow marginally, then twist and turn. I tried to catch a glimpse of Ibis but I was being tossed around like a ball.

  Suddenly the engine noise cut out.

  So did the 'copters' fire.

  We glided along silently on momentum.
r />   Daac whispered, "Now," and crawled toward me. I scrabbled like crazy to get my arms in and press the seams together.

  Ibis climbed down from his perch, wearing an identical suit. They each grabbed one of my arms and hauled me up onto the side of the boat. The security field crackled excitedly just millimeters from my head. Daac stooped so as not to contact it.

  Ibis pointed over the side, and then indicated with three fingers that he was going count us in. From the pocket of his suit he produced a small object. He released me, balancing the remote in one hand and holding the fingers of his other hand aloft.

  We jumped on cue.

  Correction. They jumped. I did a dead body impersonation.

  By the way! No, I can't swim.

  It crossed my mind as the water claimed me, and panic strangled my breath for the hundredth time in a few days, that for a bodyguard I wasn't much of a thrill seeker. Maybe I needed to visit Doll for some neuroprogramming.

  Or at least a swimming chip.

  Daac dragged me downward into the blue depths with him. When I thought I would finally pass out from oxygen dep, I took a breath. Just as he'd said, the suit was cycling breathable air and hummed steadily in my ear.

  As my vision slowly cleared I attempted to stroke with one arm and kick, to help him.

  Down this far, the water seemed crowded with distorted shapes and the dull tug of pressure.

  At the bottom Ibis forced a salt-encrusted grating off a pipe inlet. He waved us to hurry, swiveling his head anxiously.

  Checking for water 'pedes?

  In the supercities canal living was not unusual for the very rich. The water 'pedes discouraged little escapades like ours.

  Suddenly I wanted to get into the safety of that pipe as urgently as I'd wanted to jump out of the 'copter.

  Daac went through it first, followed by me, then Ibis. He didn't wait for Ibis to pull the cover back but wriggled straight on down the pipe like a giant worm.

  I knew if Daac's shoulders fitted then so would mine, but now I was inside the pipe…

  Add claustrophobia to my desensitization list!

  We squirmed along for an eternity. Daac's feet flapped in front of my face. I supposed Ibis had the same angle of me, but it was too cramped to turn and look.

  Several times we jackknifed at pipe junctions, changing direction. I tried to estimate the elapse of time and the possible limits to my suit's air supply.

  Neither calculation made me feel good. I had to trust that Daac and Ibis knew what they were doing.

  Trust! What a shitty word!

  I was so busy whining to myself that I head-butted Daac's feet.

  He'd stopped. Something was wrong.

  A moment later Ibis whacked into me.

  I waited between them, not knowing why.

  The water grew colder and colder. The chill penetrated my suit. It started at the tip of my nose and spread across my body. The only sound was of my own teeth chattering. Even the suit's transparent mask clouded with ice particles. A cold shadow appeared at the edge of my mind, spreading. Conscious thoughts began to fade.

  Then a jolt of adrenaline stirred the faintest warmth inside me. I had a vision of my Angel melting ice with a torch.

  Warming my body, especially my feet. Tapping them warm… Tapping the soles of my feet…

  My feet? It was Ibis!

  I scrubbed at my faceplate and looked for Daac's feet, but the water above me was empty. How long had I been immobile?

  I lurched forward, frantic that we'd lost Daac. Ibis must have been thinking the same thing, nudging me along every time I slowed down.

  After a few minutes we reached a T junction. No sign of Daac. I cursed him for not noticing we'd dropped off the chain, and myself, for losing us.

  If only I could ask Ibis the way, but the width of the pipe didn't allow for friendly chinwags. In desperation I wedged my knees up as close to my chest as I could, reached down with my hands and began making frantic hand signals.

  Eventually Ibis responded by tugging my left hand. I had no idea if he understood what I was trying to say. My own senses told me we'd been moving steadily west and the junction lay north-south. His guess or nonguess would have to be better than mine.

  The left junction led south so I slithered into it with the small comforting thought that The Tert lay in that direction. The idea of getting back to Torley's and my own tiny room seemed like the best I'd ever had.

  I slithered and crawled along so desperately that in the end I almost missed the way out. A shaft of light in the water, enough to make me look up.

  Where the smooth top of the pipe should have been was more water. Carefully I reached through. Another, wider pipe, ran vertically from the one we were in. A rung jutted out of one side, and the whole diameter felt rough in texture like it had been made from a different substance.

  Something inside said, Here.

  I thought about doing my Kamasutra act and trying to explain what I'd found to Ibis, but I knew it was the right place.

  I climbed steadily for about twenty meters hoping that Ibis would either follow me or wait below at the junction.

  My legs shook with the effort of climbing and I could hear my own breath rattling, ragged and un-even. The last week had begun to take its toll. So had dropping eight meters from a 'copter into a moat, and being tossed around like popcorn in the bottom of a boat.

  Suddenly my head burst free of the water. I blinked as water dripped off the faceplate. Daac peered anxiously down into the mouth of the pipe.

  He smiled a force fifty at me. Then he reached down and hauled me out. My feet barely touched the last few rungs.

  He dumped me on the floor of a well-lit basement.

  I stumbled and turned back anxiously for Ibis, but the plump figure emerged seconds behind me.

  Not bothering to hide my trembling hands, I tore off the suit and gulped in some real air. For a moment I thought Daac was going to kiss me again, but he settled for a bone-crunching squeeze. I sagged heavily against him.

  "What happened to you?" he demanded.

  "Th-the c-cold. I c-couldn't move. Then I Host you."

  Daac nodded. "It's a freeze organism. Designed to kill anything living in the pipes. The suit is enough to protect you if you know what to expect. I thought if you were between us it would be all right."

  Ibis stood beside us, grinning. His plump face seemed none the worse for the last hour or so.

  "You gave me a moment, pet. Back there. My fantasy of being alone with you wasn't in a water pipe!"

  I couldn't help but warm to him. The man had saved my life. Impulsively I hugged him.

  "I don't know why you did it, Ibis, but thanks. Thanks a lot."

  He tutted. "Don't let Pat catch you doing that."

  Daac shoved a tube of sweet liquid into my hand. "Here. We have to keep moving. This will help. Did you get them?"

  "What?"

  "Her files?"

  "You knew?"

  "Not exactly… call it a guess."

  Questions clamored over each other in my mind. Too many people knew what I was doing before I even did it. "Is that how you found me? A guess?"

  "I never really lost you."

  "You mean you followed me the whole time?"

  "Not exactly followed." He got cagey.

  "How then?"

  "Did you get them?" he repeated impatiently.

  "Why should I tell you?"

  "Call it a trade. How I found you, for proof you've got Razz's files."

  Something told me I'd regret it, but I had to know how he was able to follow me.

  "Yes, I got them." I fished inside the cheesecloth to my leather tank and pulled out the wiper Lang had given me—the Zip disk lay snugly in another place. No point in giving away all my secrets!

  The wiper lay small, wet and black in my hand like an oyster shell.

  He restrained himself from snatching it—just.

  I closed my fingers over it deliberately. "And you… ?" I tra
iled off.

  He paused before answering. "My comm spike has a locator."

  "Your comm spike!" I felt inside the tank again, this time for the spike. I had it close to my heart. Too close.

  My hand trembled with cold and anger. Mainly anger.

  I threw it into his outstretched hand in disgust. "How did you get onto M'Grey?"

  "I have a permit." Daac shrugged. "If you'd told me where you were going…"

  He had a permit! My head reeled with possibilities. "You mean I could have walked… What about the boat?" I demanded.

  Ibis chipped in. "We… er… camped on it last night."

  I shook my head in amazement. They'd been in it while I'd spent a miserable night between two concrete pylons a few meters away.

  Life sucked!

  "Let's go." Daac plucked a kit bag from the corner and threw it over his shoulder.

  I thought mournfully of my own bag scattered on the bottom of the moat somewhere. Now I had nothing left but my pins and the garrotting wire in my G-string. It would take me a year to save enough for another sniper rifle, let alone the worm. And I'd used all my charms—the explosive ones, that is.

  I glanced around at the basement. "Where are we?"

  "Later," said Daac. "We move."

  Ibis placed an arm around my shoulders, steering me to a narrow set of stairs. "How did you know which vertical to take?" he whispered.

  I stared at him for a moment. "What do you mean? There was only one."

  He shook his head slowly. "No. We must have passed at least a dozen after we lost Loyl."

  Something tightened my chest. I remembered the Angel's voice in my head when I was in the 'copter. Then the image of it warming my frozen body. And the sense of urgency forcing me upward.

  What was happening to me?

  I smiled brightly at Ibis. "Just damn lucky, I guess!"

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ibis let us into a tiny, sparsely furnished condo unit in the medium gyro of the city shortly after nightfall. There'd been no Intimate in the lobby. Just some vandal-proof tissue recognition samplers and lots of deadlocked doors. The sorta place you never see your neighbors.

  With a few muttered excuses that Pat would be worried to death, and a stern warning for us not to harm each other, he left us to it.

 

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