On the sixteenth night, Anaiya heads to the Ravignan Strip, a popular entertainment hub in Precinct 18. Clusters of Air Elementals dance and stumble around her, weaving around each other as they traipse from one izakaya to the next. Anaiya steps around them, finding her escape in an izakaya to her right. Its facade offers no windows, her only glimpse of its inside coming from the regular opening of the large steel door.
A large group of Air Elementals in their fifth and sixth lustrum glide through the entrance and she quickens her step to enter with them. She reaches the group as the last of them steps into the izakaya, the toe of her boot clipping the heel ahead of her. A head of long auburn hair whips around and Anaiya is suddenly confronted by the sharp gaze of orange eyes, their natural colour cloaked by tinted polymer lenses. The scowl rankles, Anaiya’s gaze shifting readily to the row of stainless steel rings running along the ridge of the Elemental’s left ear and the dark makeup accentuating high cheeks and full lips.
The door slides back into place behind her, pushing Anaiya into the Elemental and earning her another pointed gaze.
Anaiya clears her throat. “Sorry.”
The word drags glass shards along her throat. As a Peacekeeper, Anaiya had pushed past, crashed into and shoved between Elementals without a backwards glance, without concern, and definitely without apology.
The Elemental appraises her, running a considered glance down Anaiya’s still form. “Nice boots,” she says.
Anaiya looks down. Modified from her Peacekeeper boots, they shun functionality with steel rivets and long black buckles that wrap around their girth. They aren’t as comfortable as her Peacekeeper boots, but they have an attitude she likes.
“Thanks,” she replies. “Sorry they got in the way.”
The Elemental laughs. “No harm, no foul. Want a drink?”
Anaiya studies her. There is an openness about her, in the way she flits between annoyance and acceptance, in the way she broadcasts her emotions in her stance and eyes. Anaiya can use this. She nods and follows the bright-eyed Elemental to the bar.
The stranger weaves confidently between the lounges and dense groups of Air Elementals, occasionally leaning in to whisper to some, tapping others on the shoulder to say hello. Anaiya takes it all in on a micro level – she notices the levels of familiarity, filing away faces and relationships, fixating on unique and identifying features.
At the bar, the Elemental pushes to the front of the line and leans over to lock into a passionate kiss with a tall Air Elemental behind the bar. The public display of intimacy surprises Anaiya, but she doesn’t look away. The Elemental, the only Air working in the izakaya, grins as the two slowly pull apart, her hand still entangled in ribbons of auburn hair.
“You’re here early, Rehhd,” she says, her hand disengaging and plucking at bottles and vials lining the shelves to her right.
“Got bored,” Rehhd replies. “Issau still hasn’t released the specs for the Graphics campaign, so I can’t progress the fucking design.”
The tall Elemental, who can only be the owner, makes room on the bar and concocts a tall drink that sparkles purple in the soft light of the izakaya. Rehhd grabs at Anaiya’s arm and pulls her in closer.
“And one for my new friend,” she says, swiping her wristplate over the inlaid bar terminal to pay.
“Does this new friend have a name, or are you picking up strays?” the owner asks, reaching for the bottles and vials nonetheless. Her voice is flat, but her body language has tightened. Rehhd appears to ignore it, laughing again, long nails tapping against her glass and setting it fizzing.
Anaiya pulls out of Rehhd’s grasp and leans on the bar. “Anaiya.”
The Elemental looks away from Rehhd to Anaiya. Her eyes draw down in a moment of intense focus. Anaiya maintains her relaxed stance, meeting the bartender’s gaze evenly, but allowing her shoulders to fall forwards so she appears lower, smaller. The deference is strategic this time – a conscious attempt to relieve the weight stretching across the bar between her and the stranger.
The Elemental’s focus relaxes, her lips releasing a soft sigh. “Here’s your drink, Anaiya,” she says, pushing the tall glass across the bar.
“Thanks,” Anaiya replies, the drink spilling on her wrist as Rehhd grabs her and pulls her away from the bar and back through the crowd.
Rehhd leads her towards an empty table at the back corner, where the crowd is thinner and the music softer, and crashes down onto a cushioned bench seat. She taps impatiently on the tabletop, staring pointedly at Anaiya until she takes the bench opposite her.
Anaiya looks over her shoulder back towards the bar, her line of sight obscured by the incessant tide of Air Elementals moving and condensing around her.
“Don’t worry about Yve,” Rehhd says, drawing Anaiya’s gaze back. “She has a wicked jealous streak, but it never amounts to anything.”
“I’m not worried,” Anaiya says, lifting her glass to her lips and taking in the strange, bittersweet liquid.
Rehhd watches her closely. “So what is your deal, anyway, Anaiya?”
The question itself is not unexpected, but the tone is accusatory. Anaiya ignores her impulse to react and forces herself to maintain a slow, sweeping gaze around the izakaya – eyes trained on the assortment of Air Elementals, ears straining to pick up snatches of conversation, to catch forbidden words and thoughts. “What, exactly, do you want to know?”
“Well, you’re obviously not from around here.” Rehhd waves her hand around. “But you seem familiar…”
And the calmness is gone. Anaiya’s mind tickles uneasily with Rehhd’s contemplation and she is suddenly, acutely, aware of the way Rehhd is staring at her. It is not impossible that their paths have crossed before.
Surely she wouldn’t remember an Eastern Area Peacekeeper…
Anaiya tries to recall the faces of the Elementals she has restrained over the years – but they all merge into one vague memory, a generic face without detail. The Elementals hadn’t interested her. Only their crimes were worth remembering.
It is not unusual – Peacekeepers weren’t trained to retain such details; once the offences were recorded to wristplates, there was no need for a Peacekeeper’s memory. But Air Elementals…particularly those with a Graphics competency…It is unlikely, but Anaiya’s heart rate spikes nonetheless.
“I transferred here from the Eastern Area a few weeks ago,” she replies, schooling her voice to calm as she replays the fictitious backstory she has learned by rote over the past week. “But I don’t remember much of the last twelve months. I was knocked out about a month ago, and I didn’t resuscitate for over an hour.”
“Hypoxia?” Rehhd asks, leaning forwards, eyes widened, shoulders opened. Her demeanour has shifted from interrogation to curiosity.
Anaiya nods. “So we could have met previously, but I wouldn’t know for sure,” she finishes.
“You can’t remember how you were knocked out?” Rehhd asks.
Anaiya shakes her head. “There were no charges of Unorthodoxy on my wrisplate, but other than that…”
“I bet it was those fucking Fire Elementals,” Rehhd interjects, her eyes glittering.
The toxin in her voice is unmistakable. It corrupts the air around them and sets pins in Anaiya’s chest.
“See this?” Rehhd continues, pushing her deep red polylehth jacket off her shoulder. A long scar runs ragged across the pale skin of her shoulder. Scars are rare in Otpor. Skin Surgeons and bio-enhancer technologies have practically eliminated them, with only the most injured or agitated patients keeping lasting reminders.
Rehhd trails her finger along the angry white line of skin. “Refusing to cooperate.”
The 202 offence is a common one among Earth and Air Elementals, and accounts for the majority of patrol call-outs that Anaiya has attended to in her years as a Peacekeeper. She knows that Peacekeepers have used reasonable force to shut down Unorthodoxy, has often displayed targeted strength herself. But seeing the deep scar unnerves her. It is har
d to believe Fire Elementals could have inflicted the irregular, raised line of scar tissue. Unsettling to think Fire Elementals like her could have been responsible for turning a commonplace offence into a permanent disfigurement.
“And this,” Rehhd says, pulling the hair back from her right temple. The scar is fainter and, unlike the one on her shoulder, runs a clean, straight line, cutting diagonally just under her hairline.
“After they threw me against the bars of a repentance cell.”
“You tried to fight them?” Anaiya asks, careful to keep her voice light.
Rehhd laughs, but it has lost its depth – is shallow and brittle.
Bitter.
“I’m not the poster girl for Orthodoxy, granted,” she says. “But I’m not so stupid as to go toe to toe with trained Peacekeepers, especially when it’s three to one.”
Anaiya is no longer sweeping her gaze around the room, no longer shifting her hearing to nearby tables. The world has shrunk to the fifty centimetres between her and Rehhd. Blood pumps loudly in her ears, her heart crashing against her rib cage. She downs the purple liquid before her, draining half the glass.
Rehhd is spitting her words out in a rapid stream of vitriol, but Anaiya hears each word in slow motion, each syllable precisely articulated, each hint of emotion clearly defined.
“They’ll get what is coming to them. They won’t rule forever. They’ll pay for their injustices and we’ll be compensated for ours.”
The izakaya rushes back into her focus. A cacophony of noise assaults her hearing, the motion of the crowd pulls at her vision. She glances down at the four empty glasses lined up along the table’s edge and baulks as she feels the full effect of the synth alcohol lacing her neurons.
“Kaide!” Rehhd calls out suddenly, her gaze tracking to the izakaya entry where a new group of Air Elementals has just entered. A tall, male Elemental with broad shoulders waves over to the table.
“Don’t let the fire burn you,” Rehhd says, looking down at Anaiya as she stands up from the table before making her way across the izakaya to Kaide.
Don’t let the fire burn you.
It is too close to the Fire farewell. Too close to her old life as a Peacekeeper.
Anaiya drops her gaze to the table. Suddenly, the emotion in the izakaya is suffocating. She sees it in every glance, every touch. Hears it in the soft tones and raised voices.
She pulls at her wristplate, bringing up her biochemical status. Diethyline, methylate and hexahydrion dominate the readings. Fingers wavering, she presses on each of them, watching as the bars shiver in response. Double tapping her screen brings up the analysis – the cocktail is designed to amplify emotional awareness and heighten emotional response.
Standing up too quickly, she finds herself swaying on her feet. The edge of the table burns in her palm as she grasps it and waits for her vision to clear. To her left, she sees Rehhd in deep conversation with the recent arrivals. Memories of their conversation, of scars and fire, threatens Anaiya’s stability and she switches her focus to the entry, glimpsing the twilight of Ravignan Street as the door opens again.
She pushes off from the table, her muscle memory setting her feet in motion towards the door. Half-heard conversations, raucous shouts and musical laughter pierce her concentration and reverberate in her chest, tugging at her heart, settling in her stomach. She quickens her pace, stumbling past groups of Elementals that stand between her and the exit. She reaches out to grab the door handle, jolting short when it starts to slide open.
An Elemental stands backlit against the evening light of Otpor. He doesn’t step aside to let her past and Anaiya doesn’t wait for his permission to do so. With the door only partially open, she pushes her way into the small gap between him and the doorframe. They both turn side on to fit in the space, but at the last moment he raises his left arm, creating a final barrier between her and the street. She pushes against it; he resists.
“Whoa, butterfly.”
Deep green eyes stare down at her, and a small smile teases. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I need to go…” Anaiya says, hearing the strain in her own voice.
He leans in closer, the smile fading.
She pushes again at his arm, a little too forcefully. “Please,” she says, the desperation in her voice souring her tongue.
He drops his arm and steps backwards into the izakaya. She turns from him and runs.
* * *
HER JOGGING style is clumsy and slow, made worse by the uneven street and meandering Air Elementals, but it is enough to push fresh blood to her brain. A few blocks away she slows to a quick stride, allowing the blur of her surroundings to coalesce into the random details of the precinct.
Her breathing is steadier and she pulls up the biochemical reading on her wristplate. The enhancer levels have dropped enough to generate a normal reading, but her heart rate is still too high. As she taps on the plate to return to the home screen, she notices a small plus symbol flashing in the top right-hand corner.
She taps on the icon, bringing up three lines of text.
Figured out the rest of the inferno lyrics:
Two eyes stare at the forecourt,
One by one the walls dissipate.
The code word works like a hit of adrenalin, clearing her mind and giving speed to her run back to the apartment. Once inside, she pulls the door shut and turns on the overhead light. It is too bright. Shielding her eyes from the glare, she shuts it off and plunges the room back into a darkness kept only at bay by the soft green glow of her wristplate.
She pulls up the communications portal and types in the number. 24118. She wraps her lifeline around her fingers, letting its smooth links caress her skin as it coils and unfurls. Her eyes track along the links as they pull apart and clasp together along the bend and kinks forced by her fingers.
“Talk to me.”
Niamh’s voice sends her back in time. She imagines him standing alone on a darkened back street, leaning against the unremarkable wall of a nondescript building, head bent down and fingers pushing the lifeline connection in his ear to block out the background noise. She sees him frown in concentration, the same way he used to when trying to divide his time between competing demands for his attention. Imagines him pulling back the loose hair that has fallen past his temples and across his eyes…
“Ani?” Niamh’s voice snaps her back to her dark room in Precinct 18.
“Yeah, I’m here,” she says.
“So, talk to me.” Blunt. Direct. Typical Niamh.
Something inside her deflates a little, but she shakes the feeling off. “Not much to report,” she says. “There seems to be some anti-Fire Elemental sentiment, but nothing more than what I’ve seen around the streets in the last couple of weeks.”
“Give me details, Ani,” Niamh says.
She hears the contained exasperation in his tone, remembering the same strain of his voice when he patrolled with Peacekeeper Trainees and was trying to keep them on target and in line.
Her cheeks flush and she forces herself to revert to her Peacekeeper standard of communications.
“I made contact with a female Air Elemental, fifth lustrum,” she begins, recalling the details of her encounter with Rehhd. “Well known within the localised Air environment, typical behaviour and temperament for Air Elementals. Prenom, Rehhd. Suffix unknown.”
“Got her,” Niamh announces. “Rehhd 020. Fifteen priors, multiple cases of Unorthodoxy…How did you find her?”
“Where are you?” Anaiya asks, ignoring his question.
“Headquarters, where else?” he replies, shattering the imagined landscape. “How did you find Rehhd 020?”
Anaiya opens her mouth to tell him the truth, but something pulls her back. “She matched the profile.”
She baulks at the untruth the moment it reaches her ears, but takes temporary comfort in its necessity. Admitting she had accidentally stumbled upon Rehhd, that she had not thought her worthy of further inves
tigation despite her admissions of prior encounters with Peacekeepers, would have only diminished her in Niamh’s eyes. Would have caused him to question her ability as a Peacekeeper and her fitness for the mission.
And she needs this mission – needs to be successful.
“This is good, Ani. This is really good.”
He is speaking faster now, his earlier frustration replaced by excitement. Anaiya smiles, and this time allows the feeling to settle rather than shaking it off.
“Her wristplate activity suggests that she will attend either the Lavoir or Veritas izakaya tomorrow night between 1600 hours and 2200 hours. Head to them early and see if you can intercept her. I’ll want an immediate debrief. In the meantime, I’ll brief the rest of the team and get some intel to you in the next seventy-two hours.”
The communication clicks off, plunging Anaiya back into silence and darkness.
* * *
THE LATE AFTERNOON light filters through oppressive brown clouds as Anaiya makes her way back towards the Ravignan Strip. She shivers past the long jagged shadows cast by Stricken Core on the ancient bricks of Ruzais Street, her boots slapping the uneven surface as the descent falls steeper and steeper.
Arriving at the start of the Ravignan Strip she stops to survey her target. The Lavoir izakaya rises seven storeys, its pale-brick walls following the sharp angle of the intersection and forming a wedge. Anaiya tilts her head back and stares up at its heights, intrigued by the way its triangular shape is softened by rounded corners that defy the geometric rigidity of rectangular bricks.
The strange perspective pushes her off-balance and she finds herself swaying like the treatment boats in the nearby River Syn. Closing her eyes tightly, she steps back to regain her balance, stopping abruptly when she collides with something behind her.
Spinning around, she is confronted by a smiling Elemental. It takes a moment for the surprise to fade, for her neocortex to kick in and allow her to assess him.
Male. Sixth lustrum. Six feet four inches, maybe five. Traces of skin ink on left arm from mid-ulna upwards. Non-hostile stance. Intelligent eyes.
Resistance: Divided Elements (Book 1) Page 10
