Neon Revenge

by Graeme J Greenan

  “Has there been official word on the identity of the suspect? Were there any casualties?”

  “Luckily, no one was seriously injured; a few police investigators and two officers suffered minor contusions. As to the identity of the suspect, we still don’t know whether it was a man or a woman, as the suspect had been wearing a full-body suit, presumably to conceal their identity.”

  “Has there been an official statement from the Proxy or lead investigators in charge of the operation?”

  “Not at the moment. The authorities are using all their manpower on the task behind me… As you can hear, the curfew klaxon has sounded. This is Hanna Ves, signing off.”

  “Yes, thank you, Hanna. And with that, we shall also sign off. We advise citizens to return to their homes immediately. Any developments on proceedings will be announced over the NewHaven broadcasts. Goodnight. Sanctum stands as one.”

  XVII

  Below the metres of cordon tape, the blare of the blue and red lights, and the cacophony resounding from the mass of SPD investigation crews – scurrying from one end of the Freedom Bridge to the other, like a swarm of flies around a corpse – the river snaked through the park; flanked on either side by trees and walking trails. Nocturnal animals gave out sporadic cries and calls, which gave Sanctum-One’s only slice of nature an almost tranquil setting.

  A mile, or so, downriver, Lex dragged herself up onto the bank, heaving her tired body up the steep incline. She could hear the muted screams of the sirens in the distance, as she clawed her way through the wet mud, grunting from the exertion, her muscles throbbing from the struggle. Her limbs felt like they were lined with lead, reluctantly obeying her commands.

  After the initial shock of the cold that had enveloped her body, and the terrifying disorientation of being temporarily unable to tell up from down, she’d let the current take her into the Metropark. She then fought her way to the edge of the river when she was sure she was far enough away from the bridge to stop and rest.

  She was glad she had chosen to wear her combat suit underneath the overalls. It had kept most of the cold out. Though it could have been worse, she was still freezing; her teeth chattered uncontrollably and she could see her breath in the night air. She tugged at the remnants of the forensic overalls that still clung to her body. It tore easily; the material not suitable for combat, flights off bridges, and midnight dips in a fast-flowing river.

  Midnight dip was putting it lightly, Lex.

  She rolled onto her back and stared up at the stars. The view was somewhat spoiled by a couple of Zeps. She had no doubt the powers-that-be would be using their onboard cameras – usually used for collating screen-views from citizens on the ground – to search for her whereabouts. She wasn’t overly concerned; the park was massive, and the section in which she lay was devoid of any lighting or paths.

  She lay on the wet grass, simmering with rage. She was furious her plans had gone awry – ruined by Reid’s overcurious partner, as well as her own recklessness. What made matters worse was the shard of glass with her blood on it, which was now in the hands of the SPD – or more accurately, the Inner-Sanctum. Lex had gone to great lengths to change her identity, but that would mean nothing if the evidence was tested; inevitably leading to her past-self rearing its head for all to see.

  The sanctuary of her apartment was now a definite no-go. The moment her face was plastered across every view-screen in the city, it wouldn’t be long before someone came forward.

  I need to find Reid’s partner.

  She didn’t know whether this inquisitive cop was part of the Inner-Sanctum or not. If she was, the evidence would be made to disappear. If she wasn’t and refused to give the evidence up, or saw too much before one of the Proxy’s creatures confiscated it, she could be in danger.

  From their brief encounter, Lex had the feeling she was the latter. From the way she’d handled their standoff, she looked fresh out of the academy; her hands shaking; voice trembling with fear.

  Probably the first time the kid had pointed a gun at a person… But if she is part of it, she’ll be dealt with…

  The sudden noise of twigs and bracken, breaking under heavy footfalls, above her head, snapped her out of her reverie. She tensed, slowly reaching down for her sidearm. It wasn’t there; her belt was missing.

  Fuck! I must have lost it in the river!

  She reached over to her thigh and slowly slid her knife from its sheath, thankful it hadn’t joined her belt at the bottom of the river.

  “I know you’re quick, ‘Woman’, but I don’t think you could take all three of us. Maybe one or two, but not three,” a gruff voice chuckled. “Throw the blade, we only came to talk.”

  Lex closed her eyes, shutting out the sound of the river and the distant hubbub of carnage she’d left on the bridge. There was three of them, alright; two on either side of where she lay; the one who had spoken, directly above her – maybe ten feet away.

  I’m not being taken. I know where that leads – I’ve got the scars to prove it. If it has to end here, so be it. But it’ll be on my terms.

  She sprang to her feet using her legs and arching her back. She threw the knife at the one who had spoken; her reflexes unencumbered in spite of her current fatigue. She expected her throw to be reciprocated by gunshots, or at least the muted zip of a bullet passing through a suppressor. Instead, she heard two light cracks, followed by a sharp nick to her arm and neck.

  Tranquilliser darts.

  Sneaky bastards.

  Whatever serum had been injected into her bloodstream, began to take effect immediately. Her body suddenly felt heavy; her limbs slow and unresponsive. She watched helplessly as three figures approached her, slowly turning to blurs, growing larger as they drew closer. She felt as though her consciousness was being lifted away from her body, like a balloon slipping from someone’s grasp. She fell to her knees, sending her failing vision into somersaults.

  A hand emerged from one of the blurs before the blackness took her.

  XVIII

  Hall stared at the bag containing the small shard of glass. She focused on the blood at the end of it thinking what it could mean for the investigation. She grimaced, closing her eyes, trying to rid her mind of the altercation with the woman at the Trammel building. But it was no use. She kept playing it in her mind’s eye in an endless loop – tormenting herself.

  She could have ended it there and then if she’d had the confidence to shoot. She knew the woman had used one of her colleagues as cover… but still… She was a great shot; excellent, in fact; the best in the academy. Why hadn’t she just taken the shot?

  Of course, she knew why, she just couldn’t help thinking otherwise; like picking a scab best left alone.

  The look Reid had given her as she’d tended to the officer, the woman had assaulted, had made her cringe with failure. If a hole had suddenly appeared at that moment, she would have welcomed it with open arms.

  After he’d calmed down, he’d tried to reassure her she’d done the best she could; that anyone would have acted the same if they’d been thrown into the same predicament. She’d nodded her agreement, internally telling him to stick his reassurance up his ass.

  Reid was disappointed in her; she could see it in his eyes. He was just going easy on her because she was ‘new’. If she wanted patronising she’d go home to her parents. She also doubted his reaction to the situation would have been similar if she had a dick and a set of balls.

  She blinked, taking her eyes off the evidence bag to see who was still around. The office was mostly empty. She checked the clock on her desk; it was half eleven. She should have finished hours ago, but she was waiting for Reid so they could discuss the shard she’d bagged.

  She hadn’t mentioned it to him during their pursuit of the woman; there just wasn’t time, as everything had descended into chaos. After she’d smashed the cruiser off the bridge, she’d lost track of Reid, amidst the crowded crime-scene. She hadn’t seen him since – which was odd, as he wa
s never away from the office for long stretches of time.

  She got up from her desk, deciding she’d waited long enough, and pulled on her jacket. She’d go down to the lab to see who ‘the woman’ actually was then leave a message with Reid later. She navigated her way through the warren of corridors and stairwells, her anticipation building with every step – each one drawing her closer to finding out the identity of the woman.

  When she finally reached her destination, she was oddly relieved to find there was no one in the lab. She strode over to the nearest workstation. She shivered as she sat down and turned on the blood analysis unit. She didn’t know how the lab guys stood working in the constant chill of this icebox – maybe they wore several more layers of clothing than herself, she thought.

  She slipped on a pair of forensic gloves from the receptacle fixed onto the desk, and carefully pulled the shard out of the bag, placing it on the tray. She keyed in her station identification number and waited. It paused for a few seconds, verifying her clearance, then chirped into life, the tray retracting into the unit for analysis.

  The screen flickered, as the analysis unit processed the cells within the blood sample for a match within Sanctum-One’s citizen identification database – every citizen was added to the population database, via a blood sample, the day they were born.

  Hall was barely aware of her own hand covering her mouth as she gazed at the face on the screen. It was the last thing she’d been expecting.

  “Holy shit. She’s one of us.”

  The face staring back at her from the screen was both different and the same. The hair was a different colour and length, and there were two eyes, but it was definitely her.

  She needed to find Reid. This was a major breakthrough, though not without certain ramifications; a Sanctum P.D. investigator at large killing high ranking, respected members of society. It would be hard to salvage anything positive from that PR nightmare. There would be mass-investigations across the board which would result in more than a few heads rolling. The sheer scope of it was incomprehensible to her. It felt like the water she was currently treading in had got a whole lot deeper.

  What Hall was having trouble piecing together was how the woman had managed to live within Sanctum-One without drawing attention or detection. She couldn’t possibly dwell outside of the city; there was nowhere habitable. She had learned from a very young age – like all law-abiding citizens – the outside world was either scorched and barren or steeped in so much radiation, you’d be lucky to last six hours, let alone six months. So, where had she been hiding? Had she managed to obtain false documentation? It was the only plausible explanation… unless she was part of Sapien-Republic?

  Deciding to discuss these questions with her superior, she inserted her unit key into the port and downloaded the information. She ejected the shard and slipped it back into its evidence pouch.

  She tried Reid’s cell but it went straight to voicemail. She thought about leaving a message. She cut the call as the automated voice asked her to leave her details. She considered leaving a message, but he hadn’t returned the last dozen she’d left. Besides, it would be better to speak to him face to face.

  She rushed out of the lab and made her way back to her department. Her mind was a haze of multiple questions for multiple scenarios; questions lacking answers. A few colleagues she passed tried to strike up a conversation, or make attempts to reel her in for some advice on a case. She barely registered them. All she could see, in her mind’s eye, was the image of a dead cop merging into a psychopathic killing machine.

  When she reached her desk, she found she was the only one left in the room; the last dregs of officers had finally had the good sense to call it a night. It was common, this late, for the office to be a ghost town; late night and early hours were their busiest time, so most would be out on the streets. She sat down and logged onto the system. She inserted her unit key and loaded up the most recent file. The face of the woman stared back at her from the screen; her eyes cold, expression neutral.

  “Let’s see who you are,” she said to herself.

  She typed the name into the SPD search engine. She was desperate to find out everything there was to know about her. How had an SPD investigator become the very thing she’d sworn to fight? A warning label suddenly flashed across her screen, it read in bold black lettering: CONFIDENTIAL – CLEARANCE LEVEL ONE. She typed in her I.D. Another message declared itself: ACCESS DENIED – REPORT TO SUPERIOR OFFICER.

  She balled her fist in frustration. What was going on? She needed Reid, but even if he were sitting next to her, he wouldn’t be able to open the file either, as clearance level one was the very top of the chain; only the police commander or above were privy to files labelled level one.

  She leaned back in the chair and exhaled. What was she getting herself into?

  XIX

  NewHaven was the crowning jewel of Sanctum-One; a beacon of mankind’s newfound purpose. Erected at the very centre of the city during the inception of Prime Vonn’s vision, it represented the very heart of civilisation. The walls were a brilliant white, almost angelic, signifying its cleanliness and purity. It towered above the surrounding buildings majestically, its peaks ringed with cylindrical towers sitting a few hundred metres below the Zep epicentre. Inside, its halls, rooms, and the great amphitheatre at its core were crafted and designed to display the evolution of man; how far it had come from the dark days when war had reigned supreme.

  Marr hated the place. It gave him a deep feeling of unease, as though he were an interloper unworthy to be present within its walls. A man of sin had no place there, and he knew it. His natural habitat was within the murkier echelons of Sanctum-One – wading through the filth and rooting out anything that could damage the status-quo. His job was to make sure the scales were evenly balanced.

  It was the very reason he was marching down the white marble floor, towards the Proxy’s command room. His heavy footfalls echoed, his overcoat trailing at his heels. His mind was full of concern. Given his duty, he had every right to be; the scales were on the brink of collapse, never mind imbalance. He felt the eyes of the building’s staff – dressed all in white – follow him as he passed. Nobody made eye-contact, they knew what he was.

  Though he was only halfway along the ridiculously long corridor, he could still make out the Proxy’s voice; loud and vengeful. He also detected hints of his foul cologne – he wondered how his staff put up with the offensive smell on a daily basis.

  Marr suspected who the recipient of the Proxy’s rage was. He opened the door without giving a sideways glance to the security personnel; who had the good sense to keep their eyes fixed firmly upon their workstation.

  Investigator Reid looked like he wanted to be anywhere else from where he currently stood, as he weathered the torrent of abuse from Faulks. The investigator turned to Marr, his face as scarlet from shame and embarrassment as Faulks’ was from fury.

  “Don’t fucking look at him, I’ll ask you one more fucking time… how on earth did that bitch get past the majority of Sanctum’s finest without anyone noticing?”

  Marr opened his mouth, but Faulks held up a hand. Marr was tempted to press the matter but decided it was probably more prudent to let nature take its course and allow the Proxy to vent his ire on some other poor fool. Faulks returned his gaze to the sheepish investigator who was currently fascinated by his reflection on the polished floor.

  Eventually, Reid sensed the momentary reprieve from abuse was his cue to explain himself. He raised his head, but could barely make eye-contact with Faulks, so he settled for the Proxy’s tie instead. “Maybe she hacked into the SPD servers and acquired false documents?” He shrugged his shoulders – a bad idea in Marr’s experience. “I have no idea, Proxy. I’ve interrogated my officers, who were posted on the cordons. They reported seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The silver lining was her presence was discovered before she got a chance to cause any real damage.”

  Marr had to suppress a sn
igger at the absurdity of his defence. Faulks caught his amusement but chose to narrow his eyes at the investigator. “Assaulting several officers and causing havoc on the streets in front of countless witnesses, yes, no real damage, Reid. She didn’t take anything that you know of, and I would bet that’s a great deal. It was one of your direct underlings who spotted her, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, Proxy, it was Hall, fresh from the academy. There was a stand-off between her and the woman. I think she handled it rather well considering,” Reid said, his expression proud.

  “Oh, do you? The investigator, so green she pisses grass, fresh out of the academy and with thirty years less experience than yourself, ‘handled it rather well’, did she? Did she apprehend the fucking suspect?” Faulks snapped, wiping the look from Reid’s face. He took a step closer to Reid, who instinctively flinched. “What I can’t seem to add up, Reid is that barely minutes after you left the scene you were assigned to investigate, the woman emerges from the fucking ether and assaults several officers tasked with bringing her down.”