Zero Rogue

by Matthew S. Cox

  Smoke carried the acrid stench of burned electronics in the ground floor landing. Aaron jogged through the cloud, still blinking water out of his eyes when he stopped at the sixth floor. He held the door for Anna who had her coat up over her face.

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered.

  “Max… Mark… Mike… something like that.” Aaron waved at the stairwell. “Lives in the basement, always mucking around with technology. Seems he’s the reason this flat’s got power.”

  After passing five apartments, he turned left and went in the second door on the right. A hushed conversation murmured out of Darwin’s sanctum. Aaron flung his coat on the bed and collected a nice suit from the one intact closet in the place.

  Anna hovered a step inside the door, wearing an expression as though she’d wandered thigh deep in sewage. She shrugged out of her coat and rolled it into a wad around her arms. Aaron didn’t bother being subtle about staring at her black leggings.

  “Sorry it’s not up to standard.” He forced a smile and kicked off his shoes.

  “It’s about right for an Arse―”

  He gestured at her with both hands. “Must you?”

  “―nal wanker.” She advanced another step. “Yes, I must.”

  Aaron turned his back to her and dropped his pants.

  “You didn’t strike me as a powder blue boxer sort of man.”

  “Oh, really now.” He lifted the pants into his grip with a leg. “What did I strike you as? Tightie whities?”

  “Commando, actually.” She glanced at the wall of clothes curtaining the bed. “Maybe butt floss.”

  Aaron coughed.

  “Hey man, you fuckin’?” croaked Darwin from behind the curtain.

  Aaron glanced over his shoulder with an inquisitive eyebrow lift before shifting his gaze to the bed.

  She squinted, looking less than pleased.

  He peeled off the Arsenal shirt, lobbing it into his duffel with a perfect toss. “No, just a guest.”

  “Excellent.” Darwin poked his head out from behind his curtains, giving Anna an up-and-down visual check. “Nice ass. Hair makes ’er look like a little boy though. She should grow it out.”

  Anna scowled at him. “Aaron, there’s a troll in your other closet.”

  Darwin flung the curtains aside, revealing his scrawny glory, covered only by dark socks and a pair of briefs with an alarming number of holes, some plugged by puffs of black hair. Anna scooted away, as if being near the leering man or deeper into the apartment were equally loathsome options.

  Half in his suit, Aaron spared a two second peek. “Oh, that’s Darwin. I suppose it could be argued this is his place, even though neither one of us pays any rent.”

  Darwin picked his eye with his middle finger, still ogling her.

  Aaron buttoned up a dress shirt and slipped into expensive-looking pants. “He thinks he’s charming.”

  As if on cue, Darwin patted her butt. She squeaked in surprise, clamping both hands over the spot where his hand had touched. Shock gave way to rage. Darwin instinctively covered his crotch, but she grabbed his face. He had all of a second to look confused before he flew off his feet, back through the curtain in a wash of smoke and the smell of ozone. His body hit the ground, twitching, convulsing, and frothing at the mouth.

  Aaron blinked.

  Anna scowled. “Darwin was wrong.”

  Still scowling, Anna thrust her arm out. Scintillating lightning connected her palm to the floor, snaking toward Darwin’s crotch. He managed to force a pathetic squeak past his paralyzed jaw as he scooted away. The bolt dissipated before it touched him, leaving a jagged burn on the floor.

  Aaron ran to his side, exhaling with relief at seeing his friend still breathing. “What the hell was that?”

  “You wanted to see ‘mine.’” She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “There it was, and if he touches me again, I’ll do more than knock him senseless.”

  “Electrokinetic?” He levitated the suit jacket from the bed and slipped into it while it floated. “I’ve never seen one able to create lightning before… not without a conduit.”

  “I’ve never known a Tele that could run a shell game with three cars either.” She stared up at him; the dark blue of her eyes glimmered in a dusty sunbeam. “We are Awakened, Aaron. The world hasn’t seen what we can do. Now do you understand why we need to help each other?” She stared down, muttering, “Even if you are an Arsenal wanker.”

  He gave her a beleaguered smirk and went for the door. “There’s something I need to take care of first. You’re welcome to toddle along if you like.”

  “Small errand?”

  “Something like that.” He tugged his jacket up on his shoulders. “Probably going to ruin someone’s day.”

  aron clutched the nameplate, safe within the confines of his jacket pocket. The PubTran taxi whirred along The Highway, two hundred meters above the ground, though with so many high-rises, he couldn’t see any farther than had he been driving down below. Leaving the grey zone behind, dark alleys and glowering pedestrians gave way to open spaces between the endless forest of silver and glass whizzing by. The thin plastic seats hummed with ass-numbing vibration, and the air vent forced the cologne of the last rider into Aaron’s face. On the long straightaway, the little self-driving car made it up to a speed close to ninety miles per hour.

  They might as well have been doing nine, or been at a standstill, given how blurry the cars passing on the left were. Few bothered to honk, recognizing the ubiquity of the small silver/teal box with the flashing yellow light on top. The AI driving it, unlike the passengers, ignored the close calls and blaring noises from the ones that did. Private cars routinely attempted 200 miles per hour, despite the limit of 120. Few police precincts bothered with ticketing land cars; the money lay in hovercar fines, easily ten times as severe.

  He stared at the passing monoliths, seeing them not as buildings full of people, but as looming black shapes devoid of meaning. In time with his finger tracing her name, Aaron ran the question around his mind over and over again. Is this what you would want me to do, Allie? His breath fogged the transparent panel, obscuring the lower part of his reflected face.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Anna’s voice sliced the silence. The tight confines of the modest vehicle concentrated her scent. Aaron closed his eyes, trying to remember Allison’s fragrance. His throat tightened at the realization he couldn’t. Only the stink of sweaty police armor, locker room, and the awful stench of laser-burned flesh came to mind.

  He sank away from the window, staring at the flickering console surrounding the pathetic little emergency steering stick. Sensing his focus in that direction, a smiling cartoon-faced car appeared in hologram over the dashboard. A moment after he didn’t speak to it, the image vanished.

  “I can’t remember―” How she smelled. “I…”

  “Aaron?”

  He pushed the thought away. Now was not the time to get sentimental, especially not with Anna watching. Something about her set him on edge. The way she’d come so close to killing Darwin as blithely as if she’d brushed away a housefly had not settled well. I’m one to criticize. I’ve focused the whole of my life these past few months on murdering someone.

  “I’m fine, I’m just thinking.”

  For the next mile or four, she remained quiet, instead staring out the window on the left side, smaller due to the passenger control console in the middle of the wall. Aaron found himself caught up by the glow of sunlight highlighting the contour of her cheek and neck. A contrast in absolutes, her face seemed as childlike as she did deadly. In that moment, he felt like they were both stuck in a car going somewhere they didn’t want to go.

  “Pixie,” she muttered.

  “What’s that?” He glanced away so she wouldn’t catch him looking at her.

  “My other name.” She kept her eyes on the window. “I’m not fond of it.”

  “Pixies are cute… if not a bit small.”

&nbs
p; “It’s not a height remark.” She fidgeted with her coat, rolling it between thumb and forefinger and letting it fall flat before doing it again. “It’s… just something I’d rather forget.”

  A momentary earnest glance exposed vulnerability he hadn’t expected. He shifted his weight, feeling a sense of distinct discomfort from a peek into some past trauma. His first thought was something the CSB had done to her back in Britain. It didn’t matter anyway. The concept of getting this one in the sack for one night seemed demeaning at best, and fatal at worst―if the last he’d seen of Darwin was any indication. Some tragedy had marked this woman in the past; it shone as clear in her eyes as their sapphire hue. That they shared similar emotional wounds put her off limits to his self-destruction. He could no more think of her as an object for the taking than he could’ve considered Allison in that light. The realization stunned him into staring at her for a few miles.

  When she risked eye contact for a mere second, the glimmering fuzz of white hair surrounding her head made her seem innocent, untarnished. A shriveled remnant of Officer Aaron Pryce woke up, wanting to protect her.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Aaron put on his cocky grin. “I hear Manchester fans aren’t terribly good under pressure.”

  The comment seemed to tear the rug out from under her melancholia. She glared. “We’ve been doing just fine lately, thank you.”

  Aaron tapped his chin, studying the ceiling. “Last game I remember was a bit of a drubbing… Nine to two.” He glanced at her. “If I recall, we won something like ninety percent of the time against Manchester.”

  “It’s not so one-sided anymore,” she said in a threatening, low voice. “Been mostly in our favor for…”

  “About three years?”

  “Yes… about that.” She crossed her arms and stared front for a moment before furrowing her brows with a gaping mouth. “Are you insinuating that it was your absence that sank Arsenal?”

  He smiled, offering an innocent shrug. “Well you did pray for my injury, didn’t you?”

  A number of tiny sparks crept over the dashboard. The cartoon car reappeared, screaming.

  “Oh, bugger. Looks like we got the clapped out one.”

  Anna closed her eyes and breathed as if preparing to give birth. A few seconds later, the taxi recovered.

  “What was that all about?” He peeked over the edge of The Highway, feeling less than reassured by the elevation.

  She took another deep intake of air. “Most Awakened have little oddities about them. Even Archon doesn’t fully understand why. I tend to break technological things when I get upset.”

  He chuckled. “You must’ve gone through a lot of holo-bars three years ago.”

  She whipped her head about, fixing him with a glare.

  “That’s the same look you gave Darwin before nearly roasting his jubblies.” He attempted a suave expression. “Not that he didn’t deserve it.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Aaron. I’m taken.” She sighed. “Except for your irritating tendency to think with your todger, you seem fairly normal. Have you noticed anything unusual about your abilities? Any odd changes to your body, strange effects you can’t control?”

  He scratched at his chin with one finger. “Aside from a significant uptick in the amount of force I can generate, not that I can say.”

  “Hmm. Interesting. That would be why Archon’s so keen on meeting you. Perhaps you’re like him and weren’t born with it; t’would also explain why Aurora didn’t notice you until recently.”

  “T’would,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Twat,” she muttered.

  An unexpected swerve tossed her against him. The PubTran cut from the center lane across two others to get into the far left. She righted herself. Flashing yellow lights ahead flanked a sign reading ‘PubTran Only’ over an exit tunnel in the channel between opposing sides of the elevated road. With a ka-clunk ka-clunk, the taxi entered a tube barely large enough for it and descended at such a sharp angle Anna had to brace her hands against the roof to avoid banging her head. The ambient sound of traffic became an eerie pneumatic whoosh, accompanied by faint whirring overhead from unpowered roof wheels against the pipe.

  Aaron’s NetMini rang, filling the cabin with harsh techno-punk music that made him cringe. Anna shot him a confused look as he fished it out.

  “Random. Got bored of plain ringers, but I couldn’t think of what to use.” He shrugged and swiped his thumb over the screen. “’Allo?”

  Shimmer’s faerie avatar phased into view, sitting cross-legged in midair with a steady rain of white energy particles from both wings.

  “She’s adorable!” Anna leaned closer.

  The tiny woman gave her a middle finger.

  “You chose the sprite,” said Aaron. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

  “I’ve rearranged Julian’s schedule today.” Shimmer beamed. “He’s meeting with you, or should I say Ian Galbraith, at one in the afternoon. He’s the CMO for Halcyon Logistics Interstellar, a shipping conglomerate with established routes to several dozen colony settlements… on both sides.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  The faerie glowered. “I don’t even want to think about what giving the Syndicate access to something like that could mean for people. The real Ian Galbraith is arriving tomorrow. As far as he knows, nothing’s changed. I made it look like the appointment got rescheduled. Aaron, it’s really important you kill this piece of shit. Not just for my brother.”

  At the word ‘Syndicate,’ Anna scowled.

  With an audible foomp, the PubTran car shot out of the dedicated off ramp tube and onto an approach lane shrouded in clear paneled walls. Onyx-windowed corporate buildings dominated the view in all directions from their isolated track.

  Anna raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you’d invited me along on an assassination.”

  “Dinner and a movie seemed so trite.” He winked.

  “This is not a date.”

  Her amusement added to his nerves. “I wouldn’t have wanted to give you the wrong idea. Besides, it’s not an ‘assassination.’ I’m not going to kill him unless he’s guilty.”

  “I don’t think it’s a very good idea,” said Anna. “As awful as they are, and as tempting as it is to prune off a few, the Syndicate doesn’t forget easily. They’d be an inconvenience we could do without.”

  Acceleration pinned them to the seat for a few seconds as the little car left its protected lane and merged into city traffic.

  “I got it covered.” Shimmer winked. “All the security feeds in the building will show you in real time but record a different image.”

  “You can fake a Karsson-Neimand process?” Anna lifted a brow. “If the recordings test as false, it won’t help.”

  “Not this much this fast, but I have done it. The police would determine it fake eventually, but it’s not like the Syndicate is going to call them in. Even if they realize it’s falsified, they won’t be able to recover the real image.”

  “Impressive,” muttered Anna.

  “All right.” Aaron rubbed his face. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “Be careful,” whispered Shimmer, before fading away.

  Aaron tucked the NetMini in his coat pocket, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

  “You never did say how you went from Britain’s most hated man to a constable over here.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t say most hated. I had my fans.”

  “Fine then.” She huffed. “Why’d you quit frictionless?”

  “Got tired of winning.”

  Anna muttered, “Twat.”

  “Have I been promoted from wanker?” He sat up and looked at her, his tone shifting serious. “It’s a long story. CSB was involved.”

  Contempt on her face melted away to something approaching pity as the PubTran car came to a gentle halt outside a large tower building. The design was as plain as it was ominous, a basic re
ctangular shape. Its flattened corners deepened into grooves the higher they went, leaving the upper third of the building looking like four independent triangular sections. No name or logo adorned the plain, black front. Silver numbers above the entrance bore the street address: 1400.

  “Right, let’s hope no one inside thinks it odd the chief marketing officer of an interstellar shipping conglomerate arrives in a PubTran.” Aaron flattened his jacket and fixed the button.

  “The man lives on Mars,” said Anna. “Do you think he’d buy a luxury car for a one day trip?”

  “Depends on how corporate he is. Let’s hope they believe it at least long enough to meet Julian.” Aaron raised his arm in an ‘after you’ gesture. “You bring up a good point. Mr. Galbraith would likely have an assistant to do most of the talking.”

  Anna glared, though seemed to be fighting the urge to smile. “Twat.”

  He followed her across the courtyard, impressed by the evolution of her gait from perturbed trudge to arrogant sashay. She ignored the suited men watching the doors and went straight for the reception desk. Aaron tried to remember how it felt to walk into a media conference when most of Great Britain, and the frictionless-following world, adored him. She overtook and cut off a middle-aged man on his way to the same counter. The woman at the greeting station looked over her at the man with an apologetic cringe.

  Anna tapped her hand on the false marble. “Ian Galbraith here to see Julian Cray. We’ve got a one o’clock and its ten minutes of.”

  “Excuse me,” said the thick-bodied man.

  “Our flight from Mars was as dreadful as you can imagine. Mr. Galbraith would rather appreciate Mr. Cray’s promptness.”

  The receptionist appeared on the verge of hiding under her desk. She raised a placating hand toward the man. “You are?”