Recombination

by Brendan Butts

  Zenigra had been taken away. The Snakes had failed to rescue him. Plex's bravado when he had told me the Snakes were going to help had convinced me beyond a doubt that Zenigra was going to be freed.

  That was just your guilt convincing you, Sev.

  It was my fault he'd been caught, hell, it was my fault he was in this mess at all.

  I heard Plex murmuring to himself. I realized that the cyberware the Snakes were using to communicate couldn't be very new if Plex had to actually vocalize what he was saying for the ware to pick it up. The high tech gear some outfits had these days, you just thought and it transmitted. Real whiz.

  At some point, I'd realized I was indeed still wearing my new clothes. This threw off my perception of time. How long had actually passed since I'd gone down?

  I decided I'd had enough of sitting around in the dark. My eyes were starting to hurt from the strain I was putting on them keeping my augmented vision online. It took a lot of concentration and every now and then I would let it slip and the world would return to darkness.

  I slid my legs over the side of the bed and carefully put both feet on the ground, testing my balance and muscle response. When I was satisfied I wasn’t going to collapse into a heap then moment I got up, I walked over to the TV but found no visible buttons to turn it on.

  "TV on," I said, hoping it was a voice recognition system like Zenigra had in his hut. Nothing happened. I checked that it was plugged into the wall, it was. I sighed and went to sit on the couch. I'd just sit here in the dark and give my eyes a break. I didn't want to strain them too much in case I needed them later. As I sat down, I felt something under me and reached down to grasp at it.

  It was the remote for the television. Laughing quietly to myself, I hit the power button. The TV flickered on reluctantly and I held the mute button down, hoping to catch the television before it made noise and alerted Plex. I wasn't ready to let the Snakes know I was awake. They had apparently expected me to be out much longer than I had because Plex hadn't been in to check on me and neither had anyone else.

  I caught the television in time, which was a very good thing, considering what appeared on the screen when it finished flickering. A low budget, mostly CGI horror film was playing and the scene on at the moment was the killer attacking two of the other characters. Plenty of screaming, groaning, and blood. It would have brought Plex in for sure.

  The TV bathed the room in a soft bluish glow. I looked around, searching for anything I had missed earlier. The door itself looked more sturdy in this light. It was a good bet I wouldn't be leaving this room without the Snakes blessing. That is unless I managed to jump Plex when he came in to check on me. If he came to check on me alone. If he didn't just kill me.

  Jumping a ganger wasn't my idea of a sure thing, especially without a weapon.

  I got up off the couch and began searching the room for something I could use as a weapon, just in case. The clothes I had been dressed in were of no help. Barely more than rags compared to the Du-Wear gear I’d had on me when I went into the ocean.

  Still, it paid to be prepared. It paid not to trust your life to anyone else. Zenigra had taught me that.

  Another wave of guilt ripped through my body. Zenigra had trusted me. We were in this together, and he had trusted me. I had left him and now he was gone, probably being tortured for information. I was once again glad I had muted the TV, hearing someone scream, fake as it might have been would have been too much for me to handle.

  Damn. What good would jumping Plex be? I didn't know where in the building I was. Plex would probably get a message off to warn the other Snakes before I managed to shut him up. If I managed. It would be pretty hard to get out of here even if the Snakes weren't looking for me, let alone if they were.

  Never mind the fact that I would need their help if I was going to free Zenigra.

  That might be the King Snake's plan already. To trade me for Zenigra.

  Would it work?

  Should I cooperate? It would most likely mean my death. I didn't want to die, but the thought of Zenigra captured by Lucas made my stomach churn. Lucas was a vindictive bastard, he would enjoy hurting Zenigra. He would make it last, take his time. At least I had time to try and free him. Though what condition he would be in, both mentally and physically, when he was freed, I didn't want to think about.

  Anger had me pacing around the room, my search for a weapon forgotten. The thought of Lucas enjoying his torture of Zenigra was threatening to push me over the edge of a pit I wasn't sure I would ever be able to climb out of.

  Just then, without warning, the door to my room opened and Plex stepped in. I stopped pacing and stared at him, taken completely by surprise. His face might have been a mirror of mine. He obviously hadn't expected to find me awake, let alone walking around. Was a resistance to tranqs another one of my abilities?

  Plex stared at me for a few moments, and I stared back. After a few seconds though, I let my gaze slide over his shoulder, taking in the room beyond. Then I knew why they called this the dungeon.

  My room was as well appointed as a modern hotel room, but the view over Plex's shoulder revealed something vastly different. The walls that I could see were dirty brick, pipes were running up and down the walls and ceiling. Chains hung from the pipes and from pegs set in the brick. Big metal chains. The kind used to hold people. There was a table with a variety of tools, weapons, and some other items whose origins I couldn't discern. I dialed up my vision for a closer look. All of the items seemed to be stained with blood.

  A shiver ran down my spine. Was the King Snake going to have me tortured for letting his brother be captured? I quickly reeled out my vision, the dungeon wasn't something I wanted burned into memory.

  "You're awake?" Plex said when he found his voice. He sounded a bit confused.

  I didn't reply to his question as the answer was obvious.

  "Didn't you get tranqed, like, real bad?"

  I just nodded. I wasn't going to give Plex or anyone else any more information than I had to until I knew where I stood with the gang.

  "You should be out for at least another five or six hours. When I heard sounds from in here, I thought you must be thrashing around in your sleep or something. How are you awake right now? Let alone able to move?" These questions didn't seem directed at me. Plex was just thinking out loud. I decided Plex thinking about how and why I was able to walk around after a face full of tranqs was a bad idea.

  Damage control.

  "I pulled the tranqs out real fast, not much of the drug got in me I guess."

  Plex looked skeptical but seemed to let it go. At least his face wasn't the mask of concentration it had been a few seconds before.

  "I'll let Boss know you're awake then, he wants a word."

  I held up a hand to prevent Plex from mumbling anything into his comm, "Wait. Before you do that, can you tell me what's going on?"

  Plex frowned and looked uncomfortable, the bravado I'd sensed from him in our first encounter had faded and all I got off him was a sense of unease.

  "We didn't manage to save Boss' brother. Those mercs got him. I saw you go down in the water and I comm'd one of the boyos and they ran and pulled you out of the water. Just in time too. You were starting to turn blue."

  "How long ago was that?" I asked.

  "Only three hours or so. You sure you don't got some anti-tranq ware or something? You shrugged that stuff off real quick."

  I shook my head in response and tried to pull his attention away from the tranq subject with another question.

  "Is there a plan to get Zenigra back?"

  Plex frowned, "Maybe."

  "Can you tell me what it is?"

  "Sure, if Boss says so."

  I sighed, “Can I at least have my clothes back?”

  “Sure,” Plex said and smiled, “if Boss says so.”

  This time I smiled, "Okay, I guess you'd better let him know I'm awake, I don't want you getting yelled at again."

  Plex grinned a
nd started to mumble something, then his face froze up and he looked at me with a searching gaze. As I looked back at him, I realized for the first time how intelligent his eyes were. He regarded me for another few seconds, then tilted his head as if listening to something. After a moment, he started mumbling again.

  I started to wonder what this searching look was all about and then I realized my mistake. I'd let on that I'd been awake a lot longer than he had guessed. Maybe I could have convinced him that I'd woken up only a few minutes ago but he was now aware that I'd been awake for almost three hours.

  Baka. This won't be the last you hear about this.

  I needed to stop underestimating the gangers. They might have been unorganized, but Plex, at least, wasn't the kind of mindless drug addict the NLM News would have you believe.

  "The boss is on his way down. He says to make yourself comfortable and he'll be here in a minute," Plex said, motioning to the couch.

  I had absolutely no trouble perceiving Plex's invitation to sit for what it was. An order. I also realized that Plex must have been paraphrasing. From what I'd overheard from Zenigra's brother earlier, he didn't seem the kind of person to trouble himself with niceties.

  Plex, on the other hand, seemed like a pretty decent guy. He was even looking marginally uncomfortable with his role as jailkeeper.

  I eased myself onto the couch and saw Plex relax.

  "What's the boss' name?" I asked. It would be a good thing to know. Hell, any information would be useful at this stage. Did Plex have orders not to reveal anything to me?

  "Malak," Plex said after a moment. The word seemed to stick in his throat. "But you better not call him that. He really hates it. Call him King, or King Snake, or just Boss."

  I nodded my understanding, "How long have you been in the Snakes?"

  "Since I was eight."

  "Wow," I said, surprised. You could join a gang before you hit puberty?

  "Yeah, that's most people’s reactions," Plex said, laughing, "It's not normal, in case you was wondering."

  "How old are most when they join?"

  Plex shrugged, "It depends. Usually around twelve or thirteen."

  "How come so young for you?" I asked.

  Plex sucked on his teeth for a minute before answering, "My parents abandoned me. I was all alone. The boss found me, this was before he was the boss, just a lieutenant. He brought me back here and taught me what I needed to survive." Plex's tone was matter of fact, but something in his face told me that he didn't enjoy talking about this. I didn't blame him.

  So Malak had probably saved Plex's life by bringing him to the Snakes and getting him into the gang. This knowledge stood in stark contrast with the devilish image of the Boss I had built up in my head. I hadn't expected the head of a gang to have anything close to a soft side. Could he have just been indoctrinating a kid so he would be loyal the rest of his life? Could be. That would be smart. It would be hard to turn on someone you had to thank for your very existence. This kind of forward thinking wasn't something I would have expected from Zenigra's brother.

  Zenigra wasn't stupid, far from it, but he wasn't one to look very far into the future either.

  Just then, the lights in the room came on and the door was flung open. A big man stepped into the room. He was about six foot eight and lacked the muscle grafts that Zenigra was equipped with, but I knew in an instant that this was Malak. His head was shaved to within a half inch of his scalp and his eyes were a dark brown, bordering on black. His nose looked like a mashed in plum and his face was heavily scarred. He wore baggy black pants, a tight black shirt, and the most amazing trench coat I had ever seen.

  The coat was large, but well fitted for his even larger frame. It hung down to his ankles and billowed out behind him slightly as he moved into the room. The fabric had a sheen to it, but it wasn't reflecting any of the light in the room. It seemed to be absorbing it. The color appeared almost black at first, but now that Malak was moving through the room, toward the sofa, it seemed to shift. It was growing lighter, almost white. The exact color of the walls, I now realized.

  I stared at it until Plex stood up and gave a soft cough. I stood up too, hoping to appear polite. No need to anger this Boss anymore than he must already be at the capture of his brother.

  Malak circled me once, then stopped next to Plex. I stared up at him and when I met his eyes, I could see barely contained murder.

  When Malak spoke, his voice had the same low rumbling quality that Zenigra's always had, but with an air of authority and brutality that made me shiver.

  "Punch him in the face."

  And Plex did.

  Chapter 23

  Malak's words had barely registered when Plex's fist caught me in the temple. Even if I had been given time to prepare for the attack, I wouldn't have expected such a powerful blow to come from Plex. He was my size, maybe a little bigger, and his punch sent my perception of him up several notches. With no time to react, I just went down, hoping there wouldn't be a follow-up blow.

  Even if I had managed to evade the hit, which would have been a miracle with the tranqs still rolling around in my system, I could only assume it would have ended up the same way eventually. With me on the ground. I wouldn’t have been able to evade Plex forever, not with Malak there.

  At least I wasn't bleeding.

  "Who has my brother?" Malak asked, his tone conversational. I could hear some of Zenigra in it. My stomach rolled at the thought. What was he going through right now? Part of me embraced the pain Plex’ punch had caused. If Zenigra was in pain, I should be too.

  I rolled onto my back with my arms up, hovering, protecting my face. It was instinct. If I’d had time to think about it, I wouldn’t have bothered. I would have left myself as open to attack as possible, inviting another hit.

  I let the pain roll over me, and subside, leaving something else in its wake.

  "Mercs," I said, not bothering to cover up the anger in my voice. Anger that had been waiting, bubbling just below the surface. Anger at myself for letting Zenigra be beaten and captured. Anger at Malak and his Snakes for being unable to prevent it.

  "Who hired the mercs?" Malak asked. He was now leaning with two meaty hands resting the back of the sofa.

  "A man named Lucas," I replied.

  "What's his last name?"

  "I don't know," I said, shaking my head. Malak probably couldn't see it. My hands were still protecting my face.

  There was a flicker of motion, a booted foot and then my stomach exploded in pain. My anger started to bubble over like water left to boil for much too long.

  I knew I had to contain the anger. If I let creep any further into my voice or mannerisms it would just invite more violence. They would think I was mocking them, or worse, that I was weak. Even if I felt I deserved a beating right now, I knew it wouldn’t get me any closer to saving Zenigra.

  "Where did they take him?" I had expected him to repeat his last question. Why else was I being kicked if it wasn't because they thought I was being dishonest?

  His question might have been different, but my answer was the same.

  "I don't know," I grunted.

  I had expected another kick and I wasn't disappointed.

  Malak gave Plex a nod.

  This time, I was prepared and managed to get through the pain in silence. Not that I could have made much in the way of protesting noises, with no air in my lungs.

  “Ya can't show weakness in front of these people, Sev, ya scan?” Zenigra's voice rolled around in my mind.

  I pushed it away, it sounded too much like Malak.

  "Why did they take him?"

  It took me some time to get enough air into my lungs for a response. Malak was still leaning on the Sofa, Plex stood over me, waiting. Plex looked uncomfortable with the interrogation. That was just fine with me. I didn't much care about his feelings right now.

  On the other hand, I was glad it was him doing the kicking. I didn't want to find out how many ribs Malak would brea
k with even a casual kick to my stomach.

  "They wanted me," I said, still breathless.

  I expected another kick when Malak realized I was the reason his brother had been taken, but none came.

  Malak straightened up and walked over to stand next to Plex, "How can I contact this Lucas?"

  "I don't know." Now there was another kick. This one was a bit weaker than the last. It didn't matter though. I felt something crack, and every breath was accompanied by its own short stab of pain.

  Malak glared down at me, his hands curled into fists, "Why does Lucas want you?"

  I had no idea how much of this Malak already knew. I scrunched up my face, feigning thought to buy time.

  I wanted to be honest with Malak, to tell him everything and trust his judgment. He was the leader of a gang and he didn't rise that high, let alone stay alive as long as he had, without being smart, right?

  On the other hand, if he realized that I told him everything I knew, he might just kill me and be done with it. Revenge for my part in his brother's capture.

  I thought back to when I was thirteen and Sasha and I had gone down into the basement of our building one night to explore. We had found a cooler with some beers in it, most likely left by building workers. We had guessed that it had been left, partially hidden, so the beers could be consumed while the workers were on break. We’d stolen six of them and ran, hiding the beers in a seldom-used storage room on the floor above my parents' apartment.

  A few days later we went back and split the beers. It was our first time drinking, and we had no idea how much it took. We drank three each and were pretty drunk. We were still drunk when both of us went home. I managed to hide it from my parents who were busy cooking dinner and watching the news when I’d gotten home. Sasha hadn’t been so lucky. Her parents had smelled the booze on her breath the moment she walked in the door. She’d had more trouble being drunk than I did, it had messed with her control over her cyber eyes, something we hadn’t planned for.