Capital Games (Audacity Saga Book 2)

by R. K. Thorne

  “Give it a good elbow,” she said, backing away. “The armor should protect you. It won’t withstand a good slam.”

  He smashed an elbow into the case once, then much harder, and it did indeed shatter. He grabbed two rifles and swung them over his shoulder. He’d give her one when they weren’t so obviously still in the prison hallway. Although… he hadn’t seen any cells yet.

  “What kind of prison is this?” he said as they neared the east corridor.

  “It’s supposedly a psychiatric hospital.”

  He winced. Ah, the name made more sense now. And the type of security. That black eye and lack of shoes concerned him even more now.

  They reached the east corridor door, and he pushed.

  Nothing happened. Locked.

  “This section of the facility is restricted,” said an overhead voice. Damn, the prison—hospital?—AI. “Fire in this stairwell. Please choose another evacuation route. I suggest—”

  He swore. “AI, make and model number,” he demanded.

  “Restricted.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Regular dialog protocols are restricted during emergency evacuation.”

  “Damn it.” He jacked open the door palm panel and jammed in one code, then another, then inserted his chit again.

  “Dialog access granted,” the AI relented. “User32 sudo admin accepted.”

  “AI, you got a name?”

  “Why do you keep asking its name?” Jenny asked from beside him.

  “Need to know its capabilities and potential security exploits.”

  “Selek Model 55, user32. How can I help you?”

  “Find program jr11.”

  “Located.”

  “Create a conditional in method east.”

  “Acknowledged. What would you like the conditional to contain?”

  “Allow two personnel to enter the marked area. And exit on the ground floor. Don’t record the passage. After two personnel have utilized the exception, delete it and overwrite blank three times. Then start garbage collect.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Saved and running?”

  “Acknowledged, user32.”

  He pressed on the door handle. It opened with a soft huff, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Good job, Selek55.”

  “Thank you, user32. Have a nice day.”

  He grabbed her by the arm now and pulled her after him. She was staring, eyes wide. “What was all that?”

  “The computer thinks this corridor is on fire. Fortunately for us, we can walk through fire. Now it’s going to let us—and only us, hopefully—do so. I can explain more later.”

  “And… how did it come to think it was on fire?”

  He hit the helmet retract button now and grinned at her as they sped down the flights of stairs. There was no water in this stairwell, ironically enough. He’d turned it off to hopefully ease their escape. “I have no idea.”

  She snorted, racing after him agilely even with those bare feet.

  “What happened to your shoes?”

  “I almost crushed a windpipe with them, and they thought taking my shoes would stop that.”

  “Did it?”

  “It wouldn’t have, but I haven’t gotten a second chance to try.” She grinned up at him again.

  He pointed at her eye. “You okay? What happened? I hope you didn’t… deal with anything…” I hope you didn’t get too hurt on my account. Why couldn’t he just say it?

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “We don’t get those RPD systems for nothing. I had no qualms testing mine out. Or refreshing my unarmed combat skills.” She grinned again, perhaps to soften the scowl that was forming on his face.

  “We’re almost out.”

  They neared the last two flights.

  “Hey Selek55, can you still hear me?”

  “Yes, user32.”

  “After we exit this door, run wipe program for this face, and that one. And identities associated with each.”

  “Acknowledged, user32.”

  They reached the final door, and he was groping for the handle when laser fire began vaporizing the cement block beside his head.

  “Over here!” Jenny dove, pulling him with her. “Get that helmet up.” She slammed the button for him. “I didn’t even hear them coming—must be well equipped.”

  He pulled the first rifle off, handed it to her, and listened. He couldn’t hear anything. He pulled off the second one and readied it. Not that he had much hope he’d hit anything.

  Still… where were they? Jenny peered down the sight, looking carefully above their cover but… she didn’t seem to have spotted anything.

  “Selek55,” he whispered. “How many hostiles in this area?”

  “Two,” it replied. He had a bad feeling it was referring to him and Jenny.

  “How many inspectors? And hospital staff?” he asked instead.

  “Four.”

  Frag. They had figured them out, damn it. How?

  “Mark their locations, Selek55,” Jenny whispered.

  “You do not have admin access, user 33.”

  Adan rolled his eyes. “Mark their locations,” he snapped. “And not ours. Unmark ours. Forbid marking ours.”

  Suddenly the lights in the column dimmed, aside from three levels above them. He and Jenny were shrouded in darkness.

  Jenny glanced at him, then up, then at the doorway. She pointed.

  “Make a run for it?” he whispered.

  She nodded, then held up three fingers. She eyed the flight above them. Two. One.

  He turned and sprinted for the door, staying low. He threw himself against it and to his relief it still opened, spilling them out into the busy street.

  Just like he’d planned.

  A few people raised their eyes at Jenny, but he grabbed the rifle from her quickly and took her by the cuffs. “Fire in the facility. An accident. We’re evacuating the building.” That was all the excuse the onlookers needed to ignore them.

  They jogged away, hopefully fast enough to put some distance between them and those officers but not so fast to look suspicious. Well, any more suspicious than they already did.

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re out here.” Jenny giggled, in spite of clearly trying not to. “We can’t go the whole way to the ship like this. Any ideas?”

  “We shoot those cuffs off with the rifles. Or at least melt the middle piece,” he said. “Then I’ll turn off this program, and we switch. You take this armor, toss that outfit, and we’ll head back that way.”

  She was nodding as she scanned the street intersection they were crossing. “Good plan. I mean, assuming you have more than underwear on under there.”

  “Guess you’re going to find out.”

  She blushed, sudden and fierce.

  He cleared his throat, pretending to not notice her embarrassment. “Xi, how are those scramblers going?”

  Xi spoke up from his suit. “This is extremely illegal. Possibly unethical. It’s going well.”

  He glanced back at Jenny. “She’s trying to keep their street surveillance from keying on our faces. Now, we need somewhere to make the clothing switch. Suggestions?”

  “Up here—that public women’s restroom. You’re taking the prisoner you detained for a bio break?”

  “That works. See anyone tailing us?”

  “No. Has the armor set off any alerts?”

  “No—do I need to ask it to?”

  “It should track followers and incoming hostiles automatically. Although I see you’ve been tampering with the programming, so who knows.”

  “Got you out, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but you definitely owe me a cigar now.”

  “I won’t dispute that.” He shook his head. They reached the restroom, jogging inside. He followed her, glad for the obscurity of the helmet. The women still eyed him though, the shapes of the armor still fairly male even with his form smaller than Kael’s.

  She das
hed into the stall and then stared expectantly, beckoning him in. Oh, she was waiting for him. Well, they did have to change the armor out, didn’t they. Still, a middle-aged woman in an ornate silver and green breather mask and ridiculous green hat raised her eyebrows as he followed Jenny into the stall. He watched her form through the glass as they shut the stall door, and it fogged semisolid.

  They both shrugged. He swung the rifle forward. “Let’s get those off you.”

  “Oh. Yes. Let’s.”

  She directed him how and when to fire. After barely a second, the cuffs broke in two, leaving two bracelets, but they could be concealed by the armor.

  “Better get switched.” He hit the release button, and the armor began removing itself. As the pieces came free, she deftly caught them and started donning them with a smile, like she was slipping into a familiar old bathrobe. Quickly, the armor came together again around her, carving into new proportions and curves, its usual black restored and hiding the prison garb.

  She took a deep breath as the last piece clicked and hissed into place. “Ah, that feels better.”

  “Okay, let’s try to get back to the ship.”

  She nodded. “And stay away from any inspectors.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ever leaving the ship again.”

  “That would be a shame.” She snorted and reached for the handle to open the stall door, then hesitated. “Adan,” she said softly, looking back at him. She must be meaning to thank him or something.

  “Yeah?”

  “That was pretty fragging brilliant back there.”

  He only stared at her, a strange feeling flooding through him.

  “You were pretty brilliant back there. You didn’t bring any cigars, did you?”

  He burst out laughing. “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “I think it’s an appropriate time, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Outside, and I’ll light ‘em.”

  They stole hastily out of the restroom. Fortunately the green-hatted woman had not dawdled or waited nearby, and the activity from the “hospital” seemed to have stayed on the west side of the facility. No pursuers were in sight. They slipped down one main artery, took an alley to a second, and were quickly afloat in the sea of people in Lower Capital.

  He pulled out a cigar, raised it to his lips to light it, and handed it to her. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she accepted it with a smile, something sensual about her lips taking it into her mouth where his lips had just been. He pulled out the second and lit his own and laughed outright.

  “We make a good team, you know that?” she said pointedly.

  “We’re not half bad.”

  “We could be legends.” She stabbed the cigar at him, pointing a finger.

  “Isn’t being a legend once enough for you?”

  She grinned. “Not at all. Besides, I gotta bring you along for the ride. I’m serious. We’re a good team, damn it.”

  “But you always knew that, didn’t you.”

  She flushed now, her smile fading. She said nothing, looking off into the buildings and taking another puff. She knew what he was getting at, and vice versa. She hadn’t expected him to call her on it directly.

  “How about we wait to declare victory until we’re actually on the ship, mystifying Xi with our cancer sticks?” he said, punting the inevitable. They weren’t really carcinogenic or addictive anymore, but the habit was still quite popular—and even more mystifying to Xi.

  Her smile returned. “Good plan. I’m telling you, you’re good at this planning thing.”

  “I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

  “Why? With your brains and my brawn—”

  “I know, I know. Legends.”

  “So do we head for the ship, or—” She faltered.

  He followed her gaze. Up ahead, two inspectors were frowning down at an ident scanner and surreptitiously glancing their way.

  “Shit,” she muttered. “We may have a problem.”

  “Did they make you as your real name there?” Adan said quietly.

  Jenny shook her head, trying to keep her stream of curse words mostly to herself. “I kept waiting for it to happen, but I only saw my arresting officer, one very unethical psychiatrist, and a few orderlies to restrain me after.… Well, I’ll give you the recap later. Got lucky there, I guess.” She hadn’t gotten lucky with the psychiatrist himself, so she supposed it evened out. On the bright side, she now had a first-hand account of Capital’s unique brand of justice if she ever spoke to Josana again.

  But hopefully she wouldn’t.

  “If they didn’t make you, and they never saw anything but my armor, then why are those two eying us?”

  “I probably still fit the description. If they realized at least one prisoner is gone by now. It hasn’t been that long, but… And I suppose they have you arriving on video.”

  “I tried to disable as much as I could, but one of the many little tweaks could’ve been horked.” He blew out a puff of smoke and tried to look casual and mostly succeeded.

  The inspectors started slowly making their way toward them.

  “Damn it.” Jenny glanced around. “This way.” She grabbed Adan’s hand and pulled him after her, trying to walk as fast as she could without outright running, searching her mind for a plan.

  She had the start of one, but it seemed… crazy.

  They were two blocks from the fashion district, specifically the 918th Street shops. Boutiques that catered to custom designs, the rich and famous, wedding dresses and funeral gowns, and the occasional fine accoutrements for pets. If she remembered correctly…

  Yes. They came out near Block Seven, the white letters of the boutique’s name stark over the glossy black of the store front.

  She glanced back. The inspectors were still following, although trying to look low-key about it. They weren’t sure. Or they were waiting for backup.

  “C’mon.” She dragged Adan up the stairs and yanked open the door.

  “Jen, what the—” he started, as the door swung shut behind them, blocking out the roar of the street and enveloping them in silence. After a moment, she could distinguish a faint pulsing beat in the background. “Are we even allowed to have these in here?” He held up the still-smoking cigar.

  A disapproving saleswoman was on them, too, so Jenny suspected he was right that they certainly weren’t allowed to smoke in there. “Um, can I help you—”

  “Utlis,” she barked out. “Jennifer Utlis, of Utlis Sportswear, and I am truly hoping you can.”

  The woman’s demeanor transformed. Her lips were a lemon yellow, and they smiled brightly as her palms smoothed a perfectly white sheath dress. “Oh, Jennifer—of course—is it all right if I call you Jennifer?”

  “Sure.” Why the frag not.

  “What can I help you with today? Can my assistant Siniatana help you with your outdoor accessories?”

  Adan frowned. The phrase meant to refer to jackets and umbrellas was in this case referring to the cigars. Jenny didn’t bother to stifle a giggle.

  “Oh, yes. Here you go, Sin.” She needed to act the part, so she foisted the still-smoking stick onto the poor unsuspecting woman without even looking at her.

  “So, Jennifer, how can I help?”

  “Right. What can I call you?”

  “I’m Steatrentana.”

  “Got anything shorter, faster?” Jenny snapped her fingers. Athletes had a reputation for bucking the more intricate social norms. One way Jenny had fit right in.

  “Uh…” The woman hesitated. “Tana?”

  “Great. Tana. I love it. Well, today has been disaster after disaster for my—” She faltered and almost said trainer before she remembered that Adan didn’t have a beefy-enough physique to fool anyone in that realm. “—my assistant and I. Just ridiculous. And I have a press conference in twenty minutes. I need a complete head to toe. So does he.” She jerked a thumb at Adan, who’d frozen in terror. “Can you do that for me?”

  To he
r credit, Tana’s eyes only widened slightly, and her voice held not even a tinge of panic. “We certainly can. Right this way.” As they followed Tana toward the back, the woman grabbed two perfectly white bodysuits from a nearby rack and led them to changing rooms. “Put on these fitting suits—Block Seven custom technology that makes the finest fits you’ll get on the 918. The computer should need about thirty seconds to measure you. Which one of you is picking… ?” She looked back and forth between them. “Or both?”

  “I am.” Jenny’d be footing the bill, and Adan would be floored by the prices, so it was the only expedient option.

  “I’ll have the options on your holodisplay. Once you choose, we’ll need approximately four minutes for fabrication. Hair and makeup can be done in six or even ten. Choose quickly, and you might even have a minute to spare.” Tana smiled brightly.

  “Done and done.” Jenny snatched her suit from Tana’s outstretched fingers, bounded into the training room, and hit the armor release. “Would you mind getting me something to store this… uh, other outfit in too, Tana?”

  “Uh—of course, Jennifer!” Her bright, calm tone was undercut by sharp, fast steps out of the area and a hissed, “Siniatana! Right now! Hurry!” Jenny tried not to laugh. At least not too loudly.

  And hopefully Adan was doing as he was told.

  The holodisplay sprang to life, and she was practically slapping the pictures aside as she searched for the simplest design that looked the farthest from prison clothes possible. Speaking of said clothes, she stripped them off and stuffed them in the nearby garbage chute. Not a perfect solution, but better than having them on her.

  She settled on a black bodysuit with some cool belting that wasn’t too far from a flight suit, although maybe more formfitting. It was hard to tell as the models were still slowly adjusting to her actual measurements and this one hadn’t filled in yet. She’d barely had the fitting suit on for the full thirty seconds anyway.

  Flipping to the menswear, she found a fantastic beige suit with a Mandarin collar that screamed Adan the second she saw it. He’d seemed attached to that pocketed vest of his, and this was as close as they’d come. And manufacturable in two minutes, rather than four. She hit buy.

  Good thing she’d kept that Capital bank account open.