Daugher of Ash

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Kate? Are you decent? It’s Paul.”

  “Yeah, come in.”

  A beep signaled the door reacting to her words, admitting a tall man in a dark suit. He was almost as dark-skinned as Greg and looked like he could pick up a PubTran car. At first, he hesitated, but once he noticed her ‘clothing,’ he looked at her.

  “Sorry to bug you at, uhh, home… but El Tío needs you.”

  She sat hard on the metal bench, wiping the last bits of sleep out of her eyes. “Who needs to die?”

  “Oh, you’ll love this one.” Paul chuckled, removing his hat and holding it to his chest. “A geneticist is in the middle of a, uhh, corporate relocation procedure.” He leaned away from her withering stare. “Far as we know, no connection to your, uhh, past. His former employers would like him terminated before he gives away proprietary information.”

  “What’s the catch?” She examined her fingernails. “There’s always a complication with corporate jobs. What is it this time? A dozen guards? A cyborg? Kids in the way?”

  Another man edged in the door. Leo? He also removed his hat. Like most of the population, his skin had a light brown tone. Unlike the majority, he was every bit as big as Paul. She looked down; the oddity of seeing clothes but feeling floor under bare feet took her mind away from watching two huge men walking on eggshells in her presence, as though they’d faint if she yelled.

  “Uhh,” said Paul. “He’s got a lot of protection. El Tío doesn’t want a bloodbath. Needs it done surgical this time. We know those scientist types are a sore point, but we can get you inside.”

  “Dress up like a whore again?” She picked at her nails.

  “Sorta,” said Leo. “They got a lot of gear. You’ll never get close to them since they got thermal shit everywhere. Real pros. Mercs.”

  “We got an idea.” Paul seemed to lose his fear as he got into explaining the plan he probably thought up. “Boss said you don’t burn when you’re sleepin’. We give you somethin’ to knock you out, carry you in there like you’ve had too much Sandman or something.”

  “Fuck that,” said Kate. “I’m not going into a place like that helpless. Who knows what they’ll do to me when I’m out.”

  “We got it covered,” said Leo. “We’ll have a guy with you all the way to the room. Yeah, he’ll be unarmed, but he’ll have an ampule of wake up juice just in case. You gotta be out to get past their thermal. They got so much security on that place it’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh, come on. Mai or Ricky could do it. Either one of them could get in there.”

  “Both of them are freelance, expensive, and neither has El Tío’s complete trust. This guy’s got bank. He could turn ‘em. Besides, they’re going to be moving the mark in a few hours and they’ve already ordered a call girl for him.”

  “Freelance? Yeah, sure.” Kate let all the air out of her lungs in a slow breath. “Who’s going to turn down a request from El Tío? Especially one paying eighty grand.”

  Paul gave her a meaningful look.

  “Yeah… right. Okay. What did you do with the hooker?”

  “In the van,” said Leo, pointing over his shoulder.

  “Dead?” Kate blinked.

  “Nah. Catch and release.” Paul laughed. “Provided she can keep her mouth shut.”

  She stood, chasing them away from the door with her advance. “Fine. Mind if we stop so I can eat first? I’m starving.”

  Kate sat on a three-foot square tile in the back of a bare metal cargo van. She picked at the edge, hating the way it made her feel like a weapon in transit. El Tío was the sort of individual that had scary connections. The ease with which he’d gotten his hands on heat insulation from interplanetary shuttles scared her. She kept one hand clasped over her face, muffling cheeseburger-flavored belches knocked loose by a bumpy ride. Up front, Paul coughed at the lingering smoke from charred bread.

  A terrified girl a few years her junior, probably not even twenty yet, clung to a frame of empty shelves bolted to the passenger-side wall, wearing handcuffs and underwear. Leo sat on a rear-facing bench seat against the partition between the cargo area and the front, sorting through the other woman’s clothes. In the passenger seat, a young Indian man fiddled with a number of holo-displays and strange electronics that bathed the area in green and blue light. A wire connected from behind his left ear to one of the boxy contraptions on the dashboard, but he had not surrendered his awareness to cyberspace.

  Kate’s fingernails clicked at the edge of the thermal material. “How’d it go with her?”

  Paul didn’t look up from what he fiddled with. “We intercepted the entertainment.”

  “No shit. What about the driver?” Kate’s eyebrow climbed. “Let me guess, he was stupid.”

  “Nope. Pimp was cheap. Made her take a PubTran.” Paul laughed. “Hitesh locked ‘er down and drove her right to us.”

  The man in the passenger seat waved.

  Kate scoffed. “A PubTran? Seriously?” She sighed at the woman. “You need a new pimp, girl.”

  Their captive kept her head down, evidently too afraid to make eye contact―or a sound. Everyone jostled about as the van took a stiff turn. The prostitute sniffled and raised her head, staring into Kate’s eyes, pleading. She held on to the shelves because El Tío’s men had chained her arms through them, probably also to avoid being thrown around the van. A mixture of contempt and envy in Kate’s expression made her look away. Of all the things to be jealous of, she envied the girl’s complexion: skin the color of mocha coffee and long, black hair. Whoever she was, she could blend into society and escape notice. She was one of the ninety percent.

  Gingers stood out like a sore thumb.

  Kate felt every bit as unnatural as she was. Only people who wanted to stand out went to the gene clinics and got their bodies changed. Porcelain-skinned redheads were the ‘in’ thing about six years ago; lately, the fashion world swayed in favor of ebony princesses. Anyone with two hundred grand could look like whatever they wanted. Everyone except someone terrified to enter civilization.

  The more Kate stared at the unlucky prostitute, the more she envied her.

  Leo’s threat to kill her if she made a sound was more effective than any physical gag. The girl cringed away from Kate’s stare, shivering.

  Calm down, bitch. We’re not going to hurt you if you can keep your mouth shut. Sorry about your clothes though. They’re not gonna survive.

  The woman stared at her, gobsmacked. “What? Oh, God, you’re psionic.”

  She struggled against the cuffs as if they’d chained her to a post as a sacrifice to a lion. Leo looked up. Kate waved him off.

  “Leo won’t hurt you either. Stay quiet and do as you’re told, and you walk away without a scratch. No, I’m not going to melt your brain. That’s a load of bullshit.”

  The woman gave up fighting and sagged. “Okay.”

  “She could melt your brain, but she’d have to go through your skull to do it.”

  Kate squinted at Leo. “You are not as funny as you think you are.”

  “She’s seen our faces,” said Paul from the front.

  “Your fault for not blindfolding her,” Leo muttered.

  “Will you two knock it off? Don’t torture the bitch.” Kate glared at them before lowering her voice. “They’re assholes. You do appreciate how unhealthy it is to interfere with El Tío’s business, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I know of El Tío. I know what he does to his enemies. P-please, I swear I won’t make trouble. W-what are you going to do with me?”

  “We need to keep you out of sight for a little while.” Paul pulled himself to his feet. “Ready?”

  Kate sat with her elbows on her knees, watching particles of sand and grit slide forward in the grooved floor as the van decelerated. The prostitute tucked herself into the back corner, head down, shivering with dread.

  “Paul?” asked Kate.

  “Yeah?” He fumbled with a green autoinjector.

  “When I go out, you
two better be on your best behavior.” She looked up at him. If I’m not awake the first time I have sex, I am going to kill you slowly.

  He seemed hurt by her lack of trust. “Shit’s sake, Kate. The thought never crossed my mind.”

  “Sorry. Okay… hit me.”

  Paul stooped down and poked her in the shoulder. The autoinjector felt like a stimpak shot, except it didn’t create a spreading patch of cold.

  The van blurred to darkness.

  For a few fleeting minutes, Kate saw herself alone in the forest, not quite ten years old. She’d gone elbow deep in a smoking deer carcass, shoveling handfuls of meat into her face, the first time she had killed one and didn’t feel sorry for it. Its head lifted and turned to face her.

  “Oh, man. This girl is wasted.”

  The shock of a talking dead deer sent her back to reality. A decorative raised ceiling swirled in a mess of chestnut brown and artificial light. Pain radiated from a small point in the middle of her right forearm. She managed to get her eyes open, finding herself lying on a Comforgel bed, dressed in the prostitute’s clothes: a tight foamy-plastic wraparound that felt like hands grabbing her boobs, miniskirt, neon blue luminous fishnets―everything but the unmentionables.

  Kate focused on a blurry smear of metallic green on her forearm, which sharpened into the shape of a metal wasp about three inches long, perched with its stinger embedded in her skin. It waved a thin foreleg at her as the needle retracted; a drop of yellowish liquid lingered on its rear end.

  Antidote.

  Whisper-silent wings lifted the tiny bot airborne, headed for the open patio door. She gathered her arms tight to her chest, savoring the feeling of solid clothing against her skin. A contented moan escaped her.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” said a man.

  She moaned again, the need to get out of the bed before she set fire to everything failed to motivate limbs that didn’t want to move. Ugh, I’m not burning. So dizzy. Clothes feel… amazing. I need to do drugs more often.

  “Hey, uhh. Are you really a working girl? If those idiots just kidnapped some random woman off the street and drugged you, I don’t wanna…”

  Trying to reach for the edge became falling; Kate hit the rug on her face.

  “Oh, shit, are you all right?”

  The man grabbed her arm, pulling her around into a seated position. Without thinking, she squeezed him, clinging to human contact, not caring who he was or why she was in here. The embrace lasted all of four seconds before he yelled and threw her off.

  “What the fuck?” He danced around, flapping his hand. “The hell did you burn me for? I had nothing to do with it!”

  Kate pouted at her lap as the pink skirt blackened to ash and the clothes went up in smoke. A few sparks came from the power source of the light-up fishnets. Her top melted to liquid that ran down her stomach, sizzling and bubbling off into a foul plastic stink. She turned on the bracelet and stood. Burning bits of fabric slipped away from undamaged dark pants and a loose grey shirt.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, swatting the remains of physical clothing away. “That was an accident.”

  He stopped waving his burned hand, staring at her with confusion. Somewhere in his middle-to-late thirties, grey devoured the brown of tight, dark curls. The few extra pounds he carried had distributed well enough to overlook. His being nice was less easy to overlook.

  “What’s going on?”

  Kate changed her running shoes from red to black. “Optimus Health is pretty upset with you for running off.”

  “You’re here to kill me?” He sized her up, seeming confident at her lack of firearms.

  “I’m sorry. You seem to be a nice guy. It would’ve been easier if I woke up to being pawed.” Kate glanced at the wall. “Though, that probably wouldn’t have been very good for the building.”

  “Tyrel Zahn.”

  She blew air through her lips. “Yeah, I know who you are. Look, you’re probably a sweet guy, but El Tío is getting paid. It’s not my choice.”

  Tyrel’s right pupil turned yellow and lit up. “You don’t have any cyberware. You’re pretty. Redhead, huh? That couldn’t have been cheap. Look, just go home. There’s no need to posture; I won’t touch you if you’re not willing.”

  “Oh, I’m willing.” Kate took a step toward him. “You got thermal in that eye?”

  The yellow dot faded to a dull violet. Tyrel’s jaw dropped. “There’s no way that number’s right.”

  She gestured at the footprints she had charred into the hardwood. “It’s right, and I never really cared for scientists. Especially ones that dick around with genetics.”

  Kate summoned a sphere of blue fire in her right hand and held it up. Ripples pulsed over the orb, drawing back along the length of her arm. Tyrel tried to scream, but only managed a squeak.

  “P-please, don’t.” He backed away. “Fentel-Mars is offering me a huge enticement. I’ll split it with you.”

  She advanced another step. Carpet burst into flames around her intangible boot.

  “Okay, you can have it all… Four million!”

  The fireball leapt to her other hand. “Four million credits is tempting, but there’s a problem.”

  “What?” he yelled.

  “Well, first of all, I can’t buy anything nice.” She winged the fireball into the face of an armed man rushing in. “Secondly, do you have any idea what El Tío does when people abuse his trust?”

  Tyrel trembled, eyes locked on the dead man standing in the doorway. Blackened skull stared at him from what had once been a face. Without muscle to hold them, two metal eyes fell out of their sockets. One thudded to the ground while the other dangled on a bit of frayed wire. The body went over backward, smoke peeling from the head.

  “Okay!” Tyrel backed into a tiny bathroom, landing seated on the toilet. “I’ll go back to Optimus!”

  The sound of footsteps grew louder.

  “As if they’d trust you not to leave again.” She closed her eyes, focusing on the air in the hallway outside the room. A deep rumble in the distance built into a rush of azure flames by the door. Strong wind whipped her hair to the side as the hallway backdrafted, cutting short numerous screams. “Will you get off the toilet? So undignified.”

  “L-look, I’ll go off to some colony. No one will ever find me. You can say you killed me.”

  “El Tío took care of me when no one else would. Even if I was convinced he would never find out, I couldn’t betray his kindness.”

  Tyrel screamed.

  “And… I never did care much for scientists.”

  She hesitated for a moment, a tiny thread of guilt snapped under the weight of her memory of Ramesh. A fireball formed in her hand. Kate offered an apologetic look and drew her arm back to throw it. Desperation flared in his eyes a split second before he lunged. Kate got her arms up in time to shield her face from a punch, but he grabbed her by the wrists. Tyrel’s cry of rage became pain as he clenched down. Reflex shoved her away.

  Arms flailing, she landed on her back. Tyrel whimpered at the molten flesh stringing from his raised palms. Kate rolled onto all fours and leapt upright, turning in time to catch a chair across the head. The blow staggered her sideways; smoke rose in wisps from where her hands had touched floor. He loomed over her, raising his improvised weapon high.

  She pushed up, pouncing at him and wrapping her arms around his thigh. His pants ignited. The chair fell out of his grip; he waved his arms to keep his balance. A desperate punch left knuckle skin stuck to her temple, but knocked her flat to the ground, dizzy. Tyrel collapsed as well, howling from savage burns all over his leg.

  Kate clasped one hand to the side of her face, the other searching for flat ground to push herself upright. Scraps of his skin and fabric slid over her chest, crinkling to white ash. Tyrel hissed and moaned, rapid breaths launched saliva from between his teeth.

  For a half-second, they locked eyes.

  He screamed as blue fire formed around her arms and shot down his ope
n throat. His sides burst outward; flame belched from charred openings between each rib followed by foul-smelling smoke. The former scientist collapsed in a lifeless heap, trails of grey rising from his mouth and nose.

  “Ouch.” She slumped on the ground, rubbing where he’d punched her. “I shouldn’t have talked to him.”

  When she held up the bracelet to take an image capture, the voice of El Tío emanated from behind her, tinny and small.

  “No need, my dear. I’ve been watching.”

  The electro-wasp hovered a few feet away. She scowled down as the floor caught fire around her feet. Eyes closed, she basked in anger. This world of normal people was not for her. Woozy from multiple hits to the head, she grabbed the chair to steady herself as she stood. It too caught fire.

  Whirring drew her attention to the door, where a dog-sized robot rolled in on tracks. A tiny tank swiveled toward her, aiming a gun the size of a rifle. Her first instinct, a fireball, had little effect on the shining silver machine. It twitched, perhaps a result of startling the operator. Kate dove into a somersault behind the Comforgel bed as a hail of automatic fire rippled through the room behind her.

  “The area is heavily reinforced.” Hitesh spoke from the wasp as it landed on her shoulder. “There’s two dozen coming up the elevator now and Division 6 is on the way.”

  Kate huddled low to the ground. “Can you do something about that bot?”

  The wasp shook its head. “No. It’s controlled via a local PCM transmitter. No GlobeNet link.”

  “Fucking archaic shit.” Kate grumbled.

  “Actually, it’s brand new stuff. Hacker proof.” Hitesh sounded offended.

  Whirring tracks drew close. Kate eyed a small silver door on the exterior wall, plain except for bright red letters spelling Fire. She almost laughed at the irony. The bot’s shadow stretched past the corner of the bed. She thrust one arm forward between her knees, wreathed in a glove of flames to the elbow. When the bot’s front end emerged, she poured psionic energy into a stream of burning. A projection of deep blue faded to white and narrowed into a rushing roar. The machine chittered and sparked, small electronics fried under its warping hull. It swiveled sideways in an effort to protect sensitive components. Patches of plastisteel glowed red. She’d damaged it, but the bot would take more than that to put down.