by James Wake
“What’s to stop me from dragging your ass to the nearest APS station?”
“You’d have to kill me first,” Ortega said, calm and simple. Something hard appeared in his eyes, something she’d never seen there before. “You expect me to believe you have any love for the Domes?”
He wasn’t wrong. Jackson lowered the muzzle of the gun. Slightly. Pointed at his chest instead of right through his eye.
“Let’s talk about this job,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about this for a long time.”
“But you waited until I was backed into a corner,” she said, side-eyeing the window.
“You backed yourself into a corner. I told Cheshire to ease off, leave you alone. Sounded like you weren’t exactly open to his stuff.”
“And you were?”
“I’ve got lots to tell you, but I gotta ask you one question first. Am I wasting my time?”
Jackson wanted very badly to say yes, to cuff him and bring him in and book the sorry son of a bitch. And then what? They’d dump him beyond the walls, and she’d be taking the same trip the very next day.
“We have a front company set up, all official. You can keep this place,” he said, looking around with a wince, “Or, you know, get a real apartment?”
The gun drifted lower, her grip easing the slightest bit. She was a cop. A good one. She didn’t get in bed with terrorists, didn’t sell herself out to a bunch of…
Was. Was a cop. They’d even taken that away from her.
“Jackson,” he said, “I know this is hard. But the fuckers running this city? They need to go down. You gonna help us or what?”
They were fuckers. All of them. She’d wasted her whole life, gone from killing for a government to killing for a company. And for what?
“Alice, I’m gonna reach into my jacket. Don’t shoot me? Please?”
She nodded, pointing the gun at the floor. Carefully Ortega slipped his hand into a pocket, pulled out a small clear bag, and tossed it at her feet.
A black ski mask was rolled up inside, with a pair of rubber gloves. And a gun, identical to the one she was holding.
“I’m going on a little field trip tonight. What do you say? Partner?”
“No killing,” Jackson said.
“I wasn’t joking. That’s up to you.”
“Up to me,” she said, testing the words, turning them around in her head. It wasn’t like she’d never put on a mask and committed horrible crimes before.
Of course, at the time, they weren’t called horrible crimes. They were vital missions. Honorable. State sponsored. Worthy of praise.
Orders.
“Up to me,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, you know…I think I like the sound of that.”
* * *
Slap
Bamboo against hardened glass.
Slap slap slap.
Tess threw combo after combo, holding her silly fake sword in her silly fake arm. The hapless dummy still had a cut a few inches into its helmet, the glass smudged from all her practice.
Slap slap slap slap slap slap slap.
Was she actually making those motions? Nadia wondered. Or was it just a preprogrammed routine? “Activate: series of lightning-fast strikes.” Tess’s arm moved as a blur, ending with the fake blade resting snugly against the mannequin’s neck.
They had agreed she should practice in the lab area, not out here in the office. The lab area was Tess’s space; that was fair. Of course, Nadia realized, the office wasn’t even really her own anymore.
Brutus and Aleksa were standing over one of the workbenches, laying out rows of equipment and quietly arguing about…something. It didn’t matter. They were intruders, not entitled to raise their voices. They at least seemed to understand that much.
No one was watching Nadia at this particular moment. She was suited up, missing her mask but otherwise zipped up and ready. Her bag was in her hands. A concealed pocket waited inside, something she’d quietly added herself late one night, half dressed and smiling while Tess dozed on the futon, still naked from their—
No. Bad thought. Nadia scowled, shooting one last check around the room. Still unobserved. For the moment.
She rested her bag on a table, just so, her hand fast and precise. Jackson’s revolver fit nicely into the secret pocket, along with a few speedloaders full of those huge, ghastly bullets.
Not a moment too soon. Tess laid her practice weapon down and moved toward her co-conspirators. She was panting for breath, flushed and wiping sweat off her brow, looking oh-so becoming—
Another bad thought. Nadia grimaced again, gripping her bag tight until her gloves creaked.
“How you guys coming along?” Tess said.
Brutus and Aleksa both threw her a silent thumbs-up.
Tess returned it, her eyes glazing over as she typed at her sides. “Almost ready,” she said. She was wearing her purple hoodie, the one that said, “Depression Is My Waifu.”
Something happened as she typed. The color of the hoodie changed, darkening before Nadia’s eyes to jet black, the words blurring and shifting until they said, “No Gods, No Masters” in severe red letters.
Nadia’s jaw slowly dropped. “You have been wearing…” she managed to say, “the same garment, this entire time?”
“This is a very versatile hoodie,” Tess said matter-of-factly.
“Disgusting.”
“Yeah, I’d much rather have a closet full of fashionable clothes made in some sweatshop. Capitalist gods forbid I buy or make something and use it for the rest of my life.”
Nadia bit her tongue—she still missed her old closets sometimes, several full-size rooms that stretched on and on, temples of high fashion.
“Let’s run some tests,” Tess said, stepping up to her with pupils glazed over. “Suit seal looks good, batteries full…”
Brutus and Aleksa were leaning in close to each other, whispering. Private conversation. In Nadia’s office. They shouldn’t even have been here.
“Something I can help you both with?” Nadia said.
“The suit,” Brutus said. “It’s super cool.”
Aleksa shrugged and nodded.
Fine then. Lie about it. Those two could play at the quiet gossip game for all she cared.
“What did Brutus mean,” Nadia whispered to Tess, “about dying?”
“Brief cardiac arrest. He’s fine,” Tess said, not pausing her testing at all.
“How long have they known?”
“I brought you to that school because of them. Can you test the nanohook pads?”
Nadia reached out and plucked Tess’s glasses off her face, one finger sneaking through the empty frames. When she opened her hand, the glasses were stuck to her fingertips.
“Cute,” Tess said. “That’s a check.”
“I should have known,” Nadia said, staring at the glasses in her hand. “Fake. Like everything else about you.”
Tess snatched the glasses back—they had stuck at first, until Nadia released them, which was quite satisfying—and put them back on, calmly and quietly, no hint of sarcasm. “I had to wear these for years with lenses before I got the implants. You of all people have no right to call someone fake.”
“Do not even try that,” Nadia said. “I have hidden nothing from you.”
“Hey, what does your mom do?”
Nadia froze, the air in her lungs emptying out in a dizzying rush.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Tess said. “If I had thought for a second that I could have been open with you about all this, I would have. But no, it had to be your idea. It had to be all for fun. It had to be me enabling your petty little crusade against your mom.”
“I…” Nadia choked and shook. Nothing else came out.
“Because we both know if I’d asked you to sign up for a real cause, you would have turned up your nose and ran off in the other
direction. And you were so goddamn self-absorbed that you never even asked me why I was doing all this.”
That one hurt most of all.
“Did you really think I did these things just because I still had some sad crush on you? Like I would just forget the kind of person you are…er…were? The way you treated me? The way you treated everyone?”
“I’m sorry!” Nadia screamed, her eyes burning, threatening to spill over. “Is that what you want to hear? I. Am. Sorry. I apologize. All I’ve wanted…all I’ve ever wanted is to make it up to you. I tried!”
They had both, momentarily, forgotten they were not alone. Brutus and Aleksa were still watching, clinging to each other and doing their best to look inconspicuous.
“Hey, um…” Tess said toward them. “Sorry, can you give us some privacy real quick?”
Aleksa looked around, holding her hands up and shrugging.
“Ugh, wait by the car? Please?”
She and Brutus shuffled toward the elevator. The moment they were through the door, Tess started to speak. “Listen, I know you—”
Nadia cut her off with a hard slap across the face.
“Ow!” Tess said, rubbing her cheek. “Look—”
Nadia slapped her again.
“Okay, sure, I deserved that, but—” She caught Nadia’s wrist, stopping yet another slap. “Will you quit it? You’re wearing enhanced muscles. That hurt.”
“You lied to me!”
“Well, yeah, no shit, and you lied to—”
Yet another slap, with the other hand this time. “You knew Cheshire wasn’t there that night. I had to jump off a building to escape. I almost died!”
Tess blinked a few times as she adjusted her glasses. “Oh. That. Yeah. Uh…sorry. Really, I am sorry about that one. We didn’t know who was in there, and you were all gung ho to check it out anyway, so…”
“Convenient,” Nadia said, angrier at herself right now than anyone else.
“Listen.” Tess heaved a deep sigh. Less angry; in fact, there was no trace of it left in her voice at all. “I’m really sorry you found out this way. I saw you following me, and I figured we could roll with it. It would’ve been worse if I’d ghosted you out there, you know? I meant it when I said I was glad you showed up. Glad you were finally figuring it out.”
“How generous of you.”
“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Tess said. “I know you’re not a bad person, and…”
Nadia missed a few words after “not a bad person.” Her chin quivered, once; those tears threatening to spill out again. They did not. She fought it all back, swiftly and decisively.
“…we’re trying to do some good for this city. It’s our home, Nadia. You can help us fight for it. I want you to join us, not because you have to but because you want to help. Don’t you?”
Nadia took a few long, painful seconds before answering, swallowing hard and getting her emotions in check. “This is it,” she said. “You get one more from me, out of respect for our time together. But after tonight, this is finished. You and me, all of this.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word of it.”
Tess dropped her gaze. It hurt to watch. Not disappointed. Sad. “What are you going to do after?”
It didn’t matter. None of this mattered anymore. All of it would end tonight. One way or another.
“You’re mad right now. I get it,” Tess said, her voice tinged with melancholy. “We can talk about this later?”
“Finish your tests,” Nadia said.
“Fine.” Tess’s pupils lit up again. A second or two passed. “Whoa, your vitals are all over the place. And your gloves are…huh. Open your hands?”
Nadia hadn’t realized her fists were shaking, squeezed so tightly that her knuckles ached. She had to fight to open them, making a silent little gasp at the creaking pain, the pins and needles invading her fingers.
“There. Much better,” Tess said.
Chapter Eighteen: Beyond the Walls
“You are now leaving the Corporate Autonomy Zone,” a placid female voice told them, over and over. “We hope you have enjoyed your stay. Please remember to have all documentation ready at the checkpoint. You are now leaving…”
Grim concrete walls stretched up above them, simple barriers thrown down in haste. This was the inner boundary of the city, the high-water mark of the old floods, the spot from which reconstruction had begun.
“You’ve never been outside,” Tess said. Not a question.
Nadia said nothing. Still staring. Long lines of cars hemmed them in on all sides as they drew ever nearer to the checkpoint ahead.
“How long did it take you girls?” Brutus said, riding shotgun. Right in front of Nadia.
“What do you mean?” Tess said.
“To get inside,” Brutus said. “I was stuck out there for a few months before I could find a good coyote.”
“Three years,” Aleksa said, very flat and very, very quiet. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel.
Tess said nothing. Nadia knew Tess was born in the city, like herself. Or thought she knew. Perhaps that had been a lie as well.
No, that was years and years ago. High-school Tess never would have lied to her.
They were up next. The booth ahead of them was nothing but dark glass, indifferent to the cars passing under its gaze. Next to Nadia, in the backseat, Tess took a deep breath. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers typing at a frantic pace.
Faint lines of light pierced through the car ahead of them. After a few seconds, the gate opened, its solid metal pylons retracting down into the road.
“Tess?” Aleksa said.
“We’re good,” she said, fingers still flying. “Pull on in.”
Aleksa nudged them forward, parking under an arch cut into the solid concrete of the sea wall. Pylons snapped up behind the car. Trapped. The woman’s voice on the loudspeakers outside went on and on about documentation.
“What does that mean? Documentation?” Nadia said.
“You never had to carry papers?” Aleksa said.
“Not required any more. A leftover.” Tess said, “like these empty guard booths. It’s only one or two actual humans watching now, in a control center way up above.”
Scan lines pierced the air around them, red light moving down through the interior of the car. It reflected in Tess’s flickering pupils—red piercing eyes like in old photographs.
Nadia held her bag tightly in her lap, worried about the revolver hidden inside. She wore that same hated trench coat, which concealed the full suit this time, and her outdated boots. Jackson’s gun in her bag lay heavy in her lap, the secret pocket lined with layers of lead and composite and reflective foil.
“Are they listening?” Nadia said.
The pylons in front of the car retracted into the ground. Brutus let out a loud sigh. “Gonna have to say that’s a no, love,” he said.
“Wrong. We’re absolutely being recorded,” Tess said. “Everyone keep your mouth shut.”
Nadia continued to say nothing. She scarcely had said anything since they’d left the office, frowning in the backseat as they drove through frigid rain and gray, waning light. Past the booth she spotted a tunnel, lit with harsh caged fluorescent bars. The line of cars crept on, giving all of them ample time to stare.
APS troopers were everywhere, black-clad Domes scurrying to and fro along the edges of the tunnel. Off to either side, cars had been pulled over for searching, everything inside ripped out and dumped onto the damp asphalt as their occupants knelt nearby, hands cuffed and heads hooded.
“Try not to stop,” Tess said.
Aleksa stomped the brakes anyway, slapping the steering wheel and holding a hand up. A trio of guards crossed in front of them—one of them dragged along by a frothing, barking dog that lunged at every car nearby.
None of thi
s made any sense to Nadia. They were leaving the city. Surely there should be—
Her thoughts were interrupted as the dog pounced on one of the cuffed prisoners. The screams of a young man rose up from beneath the hood. The Dome holding the leash tried but failed to restrain the beast; eventually he resorted to kicking both dog and victim, along with several other guards, until the situation was under control.
With wide eyes, Nadia watched as the man was hauled off, blood running from his neck in great torrents.
“Almost out,” Aleksa said, nosing the car forward until Nadia thankfully could no longer see the dog. Its barks echoed down the tunnel, though, chasing them until they emerged into open, rain-soaked air.
The road ramped up, arching higher and higher until they were on an enormous elevated highway, every inch of its dozens of lanes lit up with chilled blue-white light.
Nadia cleared her throat. “That…was not so bad,” she said, not quite convincing herself.
“Getting back in is the hard part,” Tess said.
An archway above them doled out a message on a creaky old sign, black with orange letters made of dots: WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!
PLEASE BUCKLE UP! it added, as if the belts they were wearing didn’t fasten themselves.
They raced along, one in a sea of vehicles—everything from containers on trailers to fellow sedans with smoked-black windows—all coasting along on their own as the people inside worked or slept or who knew what.
It was still odd, watching Aleksa drive the car. Holding a steering wheel. Nadia, for all the time she’d spent racing along on hoverbikes, had never seen anything like it.
A pair of bikes above them caught her eye, white and blue, with officers dressed like Jackson riding them. They hovered along slowly, hunched low and squinting in the rain.
Something felt wrong. Something was…off about the whole scene. It took Nadia several long, quiet minutes before she could wrap her head around it.
No advertisements. She looked around, on either side of the highway. Nothing but gray sky and dark buildings stretching on beneath them, on and on toward the horizon, an endless mass.