by Hal Archer
"It's taken nearly the whole floor," he said.
The driver straightened his rear-view mirror. "What'd you do?"
How could he survive that?
Jake looked at the cabbie in the mirror, but said nothing.
He noticed the driver reach into a compartment between the two front seats before looking at him again in the mirror.
Jake stared back at him, trying to decide whether to play dumb or just stay quiet. He was still thinking about the blast. No way he meant for it to cause so much damage. Maybe he's dead. But how?
"You with me?" the driver asked.
"Huh?" Jake said. "Yeah."
"Sorry about that. Didn't really mean you had anything to do with it. Any idea what happened?"
Jake shook his head. He glanced out the car window. "Think he made it?"
"Are you kidding me?"
The cabbie flew the car a few blocks away from Urgru Tower before coming down closer to the street. "Any place in particular you want me to drop you?"
"Anywhere close to where you picked me up is fine."
"You got it." The driver turned the wheel and brought the car around, flying toward the street where Jake phoned him from. "None of my business," he said, "but how'd you know the Professor?"
"I didn't," Jake said. "Someone told me he might help me out, that's all."
The cabbie picked up a small plastic purple alien figure from between the front seats and placed it back onto the dashboard where it had been before the explosion.
"Most likely that Baron character did this, or somebody trying to do him a favor," the driver said. "You're lucky you left when you did."
"Yeah, lucky."
The sky cab flew to the drop-off site and settled down into a hover a couple of feet off the ground. The cabbie turned in his seat to face Jake, then he glanced at the meter. "If you don't mind. For the return trip. I can't hit you up for the damage to the car. Not your fault." He nodded at the meter. "But I'd appreciate anything extra you can throw in."
"Right." Jake pulled out his credit chip and pressed the button on it to set it for a little extra for the cabbie's trouble. He swiped it over the meter.
He opened the door and glanced back at the driver. "Sorry about the damage to your car. Nice flying up there, by the way."
"Just doin' my job."
"Well, thanks."
"Hey," the driver looked Jake in the eyes, "steer clear of Baron if you know what's good for you."
Jake nodded.
Yeah, like that’s gonna stop me.
CHAPTER 10
T iffin jolted from the sound of an explosion in the distance. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall under the Erith poster, her legs stretched out, boots on. She fumbled the pieces she was assembling in her lap, parts to her latest invention. The tiny gears she had spent the last minute lining up slipped and fell into a loose pile onto her green shorts.
"Oh, no." She looked in dismay at the fifteen or so pieces now jumbled in a small heap—gears, tension bands, servo motors, a receiver chip, and all the other requisite bits.
She looked at the window in the direction of the explosion, but couldn't see anything except the tops of a few buildings and the sky.
She scooped the collection of materials she'd been tinkering with up from her lap and put them on the floor beside her.
"Squeakers," she glanced to the folded carpet scrap a few feet away, "you'll have to wait a while longer for me to finish your friend."
She got up and went to the window to investigate the explosion. The city scene was busy, as usual. She saw hundreds of people on the streets far below. Many of them seemed to be reacting to the noise too. They were looking skyward and pointed away from her building. She gazed between the four glass towers across the street, trying to see what she could beyond them. After looking for several seconds, she saw faint billows of smoke. Knowing the city well, she figured the explosion was in the general area of Urgru Tower, ten blocks away.
Squeakers made a noise. Tiffin looked at him, then at the closed door of her only closet.
"No, I can't use the flyer. It's not ready. Besides, the checkered hats will have the sky on lockdown for a while, until they figure out what happened."
She stepped over to her bed and grabbed a pair of homemade binoculars. Returning to the window, she took another look.
"You don't think it came from the Professor's place, do you Squeakers?"
She turned around and looked at the pink nose and whiskers protruding from the hole made by the folded carpet. She waited for Squeakers’ response, but the mouse only twitched its nose.
"Yeah, how would you know?" She shrugged. "I just hope the explosion has nothing to do with the man I helped."
The mouse squeaked.
"Yes," Tiffin said, "I know his name is Jake. I'm the one who told you."
She looked out the window with her binoculars again. The smoke in the distance was dissipating. "Maybe I should see what happened."
She left the window, stuck the small binoculars into one of the large cargo pockets on her shorts, and walked over to Squeaker's carpet roll. She took a broken cheese cube from her pocket, knelt, and placed it into the opening where the mouse was hiding. "You'd better stay here. Keep an eye on the place."
She glanced across the room at her drone on the floor, nodding her chin up toward it. "Birdy will keep you company. Too risky to get her in the air with the checkered hats on alert."
She grabbed a patchwork backpack from the couch—a bag she made from old clothes she'd outgrown. The hand stitching wasn't even, but sewing had never been her strong suit. She opened the top of it and peered in to check the contents.
"Might pack a few more things." She dangled the bag at her side as she turned to Squeakers. "You should always prepare for what you don't expect. Remember that. OK?" She paused for a second, staring at the mouse whose head was jutting out from the carpet now. She gave a single exaggerated nod to the mouse, as if to emphasize her advice.
Squeakers backed into the dark of the fold in the carpet.
Tiffin took her backpack over to the sprawling pile of miscellaneous junk beside her beloved ragged couch. "OK. Going on a street run. Let's see." She knelt in front of the pile which was nearly as big as her couch. After rummaging through the parts, tools, and gizmos, she pulled out several items and shoved them into her bag. "That should do it."
She cinched up the top of the backpack and slung it over her shoulders. Before leaving, she stopped in front of Squeakers’ carpet. "If Henry comes around asking to borrow anything, tell him I said no. He still hasn't given back my other soldering iron."
She paused before opening the door to exit, turning back to glance around the room. "Not crazy about hitting the open streets. But I need to know what happened. The timing is too crazy."
She opened the door and glanced back once more. "Wish me luck." She shut the door and headed for the streets.
CHAPTER 11
A s Jake turned the corner at the end of the street where he was dropped off by the sky cab driver, he pulled his comm device from his belt and called Sarah.
"Jake," Sarah said, sounding anxious, "I'm glad you called. I tried you, but couldn't get through."
Jake let the comfort of her voice melt into him.
He turned his shoulders to let an old man pass him. The street teemed with people and it was all Jake could do to get some elbow room while he walked.
"I told you my comm would be off."
"You did. I know. It's just… something's going on and I thought…"
"What do you mean, going on?"
"I've been scanning the open channels at this port and everyone's talking about some incident. Some place got attacked."
"Oh, that." Jake glanced at the people walking nearby to see if anyone was paying attention to his talk with Sarah. No one seemed interested, so he continued. "I might know something about it."
"Of course, you do."
"It's not what you thi
nk." Jake glanced around again to check for eavesdroppers. He noticed an alley a few feet ahead and took it. It was empty. He kept walking down it. "The guy blew up his own place."
"Who? Why would anyone do that?"
Jake noticed a shadow moving a little way down the alley. "I'll explain later." He took a few more steps and the shadow in the distance split into three shadows. "Can't talk. I'll update you later. I'm fine."
He switched off the comm link before Sarah could respond.
Clipping the comm device onto his belt, he undid the leather strap on his blaster's holster.
He glanced quickly behind him. Nothing but empty alley all the way back to the street.
He thought about turning around, but the idea of pushing through the crowds on the street was as unappealing to him as facing the three shadowy figures ahead.
The alley in front of him widened into a courtyard, the backs of five buildings met around its perimeter. There were two dumpsters, each beside the back door of one of the buildings. Puddles and scattered trash littered the uneven grimy pavement.
He glanced at the three lamps, one attached to each of three of the buildings. Each of the lights were out, the glass casing and bulbs shattered. He noticed there wasn't any broken glass on the ground below them. They'd been that way for a while, he figured.
Perfect place for an ambush.
Jake felt restless and a little on edge after the explosion at the Professor's. He kept walking toward the shadows.
When he got within twenty feet of the shadows, which were crouched on either side of the two dumpsters, the three figures came out of hiding—two men at his three o'clock and a woman at his nine.
One of them had a long scar across his face, from forehead to chin, skirting the inside of his left eye. All three of the assailants wore black clothes which Jake noted as an obvious decision, given their career choice. He figured they preyed on unsuspecting people who unwisely meandered off the beaten path. None of the three were physically impressive. They were slender and smaller than average, if anything. Jake guessed they relied on stealth, surprise, and three-to-one odds. Maybe speed too. Better be on my toes.
He saw their knives, each with a curved three-inch blade. No other weapons, holstered or otherwise. He closed the strap across the top of his blaster, committing to the imminent recreation.
He stopped in the middle of the courtyard, giving himself room to maneuver. He said nothing, but showed no signs of fear.
The scar-faced man picked up a broken bottle from the ground and glanced at the man beside him. "He's got a weapon. Move now!" He threw the bottle at Jake.
Jake leaned out of the way at the haphazard assault. The bottle shattered somewhere behind Jake.
The other man rushed him, leading with his curved blade.
Jake crouched and held his hands out ready to face off against him.
The man thrust his knife in a swooping curve. Jake stepped back and struck the man's wrist as the blade narrowly missed. The knife flew out of the man's hand. Jake stepped in with his opposite leg and forced his open hand against the man's throat. He heard the pop before the man dropped, reaching for his neck.
The two remaining ambushers had repositioned and now came at him from opposite sides. Jake made a quick call and went for the other man, moving into the man's charge. Before the man's blade came within striking distance, Jake lunged his heel out, plunging it into the man's stomach. The attacker crunched over from the blow, but his unguided blade managed to slice Jake's leg just above the knee. The man fell and Jake swiveled as soon as his kicking leg was on the ground.
The woman's blade came down at his face, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping the blade's descent. The woman's face was only a foot from his own. He pushed her arm aside and headbutted her. His left cheek was nicked by her weapon as he hit her. She dropped her knife and it clanged upon hitting the ground. Jake watched her stumble as her legs buckled. She dropped to her knees and then to her side.
Jake glanced at the other two men to make sure they were still down. They were, one of them out cold. The other man was moving slightly, but Jake knew he wouldn't be trouble anytime soon.
He felt a little guilty about headbutting the woman. He nudged her shoulder with his boot. "You gonna make it?"
She groaned, still lying on the ground. She moved her head around, clearly not able to focus her vision yet.
"You know, I could've shot all three of you," he said. "You really need to find something better to do with your life."
The woman moved her head unsteadily and then looked up at Jake. "What do you know?"
Jake shook his head before answering. "I know I'm not the one on the ground after failing to take down an innocent man."
Ok, innocent might be a bit much.
She scowled at him, then spit on his boot.
"You're a real charmer, aren't you?" Jake said.
"Drop dead."
Jake tooled his tongue across the front of his teeth, then pursed his lips up as if thinking about her suggestion. "Not today, lady. I've got work to do."
He walked away from her, satisfied she had nothing more than a mild concussion at worse.
As he got to the edge of the courtyard, he looked back at her. "You can walk away from it, you know. Start over."
She lifted her head off the ground and stared at him for a moment. "No, you can't."
Her words and seeing her on the ground where he'd put her made Jake uncomfortable.
"Maybe you're right," he said then headed down the alley away from the courtyard.
CHAPTER 12
T iffin took the back stairwell to the exit on the alley side of her building, her normal routine to avoid notice. She'd learned long ago to keep a low profile and part of that meant not advertising where she lived. She'd had a few insistent offers the last couple of years to work for one of the back-alley hustlers. Out of sight, out of mind—the strategy that kept her from the attentions of the flesh-peddlers, needle-pushers, and the not-so-black-and-white checkered hat authorities.
She cracked the heavy metal door open and peered out into the alley. Empty as usual. She stepped outside and shut the door with a heave of her shoulder—it tended to stick.
Hoisting her backpack higher, she pulled the front strap snugly and headed down the alley. She cleared three buildings before taking a side alley to the main street. Street smarts was second nature.
She pulled loose a tan scarf which was tucked into the top of her backpack and drew it around the lower half of her face, tucking both ends into the back of her shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail which rested on the top of her bag.
She stopped midway down the alley, the busy street ahead. She saw dozens of people pass by the alley and a parked sky car on the far side of the street.
She huffed, then unslung her backpack and opened it. She knelt, placing the bag on the ground, and dug through it. She pulled out a hand-held rectangular device.
"Just in case." She held it in front of her, pointing the end with two protruding metal points outward and gave the device a squeeze. A blazing white spark arced out in a two-foot loop, coming from the metal points. "That'll teach 'em."
She stuck the stinger, as she called it, in the right cargo pocket of her green shorts. Both sides of her shorts bulged like she had man legs, she thought. Her left pocket still held her binoculars.
She cinched up her backpack and put it on before fixing her scarf again. "OK. Let's see what's going on."
She walked out of the alley, weaving herself into the foot traffic which filled the street. She caught herself grunting a few times as passers-by got too close. It was much noisier on the main streets than the alleys. She hated that. It wasn't because she had anything against the people walking around, at least not generally. Years of seeking out secret places to bed down for the night when she was younger predisposed her against crowds.
Stepping into the middle of the street, she got a breather from the stream of people. She looked both ways dow
n the street. There were a dozen parked sky cars. Even the cabs were grounded. She glanced at the tops of the towers nearby. The red beacons on each of them were flashing. "Yep, everyone's grounded."
She saw a couple of checkered hats moving her way. They didn't have eyes on her, but she instinctively touched the pocket with her stinger device in it. Then she realized how odd it must look her standing in the middle of the street, even if the sky cars which normally used the space for take-off and landing were grounded. She crossed to the other side and filed back into the crowd moving down the street.
Up ahead a checkered hat waved a glowing wand, directing a red sky car to land on a spot in the street. Several people rushed out of the way of the descending vehicle.
Tiffin thought about the old days, before all the cars moved to the air. Then she recalled how seeing the first sky car when she was eight gave her the idea to make something of her own that flew. The idea of getting high above the rest of the city seemed magical to her.
Still walking along the side of the street, she was faced with a crowd of thirty or forty people. They were barely moving. She saw another glowing wand waving on the other side of the crowd and another sky car coming in to land.
"Argh." She looked to the alley at the corner of the building next to her. Patting her pocket with the stinger device, she nodded. "Probably faster."
She pushed through the edge of the crowd until she reached the alley, then took it.
When she got to the turn at the end of the feeder alley which led to the long stretch between the backs of the buildings, she sighed in relief. She walked undisturbed for a couple of blocks. The buildings there were much taller than the others she'd passed. The alley grew darker ahead. Long aware of the hidden dangers of the shadowy corridors behind the bustling streets, she paused to dig in her backpack again.
A few moments later she put her pack on, adjusted her scarf, and fastened a metal band around her head. It fit snugly and curved around three quarters of her head, extending a piece of light amber glass in front of her eyes, an inch away from her face. She tapped a button on the side of the band, activating the lens which was her own creation.