Visions

by Teyla Branton

  She pushed enter. It was done now, for good or bad.

  With a little sigh, she looked down at the folded square of her iTeev. “Call Ty Bissett,” she said. “Audio only.” She didn’t want to explain this room.

  He answered so quickly, he might have been waiting. “Hey, Lyssa.”

  “Hi. You have time for a drink?”

  “Love to. You just finish your shift?”

  “Yes.”

  “Meet you at the usual place?”

  They’d found a bar that was far enough from the division that it didn’t attract other enforcers, so they could be discreet about their relationship. Her requirement, not his, and though the secrecy bothered him, she couldn’t explain that it was for his safety. Tonight the bar seemed like too much work. “No, I’ll come to your apartment. I’ll bring chotks.”

  “Nice.” His voice was low and sexy, and she could picture his compact form and eager smile. His dark eyes framed by black hair that was surprisingly soft and fine. There was nothing about him that stood out, and she’d once thought him too quiet for her. But he kissed like a prince and made her forget, if just for a short time, about Kansas, and her situation with Lyra.

  She could almost forget Jaxon had seen him die—and that maybe her dating Ty was the reason for the vision. Whatever the reason, the premonition couldn’t be unseen now.

  “Hurry,” he said, a note of playfulness entering his voice.

  “I have a shuttle waiting.”

  The shuttle was courtesy of Kansas, or she would have used up her monthly shuttle allotment already. Unlike the sky train, use wasn’t unlimited, but as an employee of the transportation office, Kansas had a car and unlimited shuttle use for his family. After Lyra told him about people from Colony 6 going missing, he had insisted on sending a shuttle for both of them every day.

  “Good,” Ty said. “See you soon.”

  “Bye.” Lyssa disconnected and glanced once more at the TAD’s display. No result yet, but the command was working. She’d set up an alert to notify her if it was able to find anything.

  She hurried down the hall to the front division doors, passing the janitor she knew only by his first name, Castiel. He was tapping gently on a Teev screen embedded into a boxy cleaning machine that was roughly sixty square centimeters wide and as tall as his waist. The cleaner moved over to nearly touch the wall with its gently-rounded edges, whirring as it sucked up dirt no one could see.

  Castiel’s face bobbed in her direction, his eyes unfocused, his mouth smiling. Distaste filled her. While the number of people sent to medical enhancement in Amarillo City was the lowest in the CORE Territories, the city did have its victims. Castiel had once been an enforcer here, long before her time, but still remembered by others. Now he walked with the cleaners. Or supervised them, rather. It wasn’t a necessary job, because the cleaning machines generally could work on their own, but Lyssa suspected Brogan felt a sense of obligation. Given what she knew about the rate of disappearance or banishment of those like Castiel who didn’t have family, Brogan had probably saved his life.

  But for what? Wouldn’t his life be better sacrificed for a new child? She bet his mother wouldn’t think so. Just as Gemma wouldn’t wish her son dead.

  “Hi, Castiel,” she said.

  His head bobbed and his smile widened. “Have a good day,” he responded.

  She hurried past him outside to the waiting shuttle.

  Chapter 5

  BEFORE THE SUN rose Friday morning, Reese showered and dressed carefully, making sure her thin, protective vest and her Enforce brand nine mil weren’t visible under the loose gray blouse and matching slacks that were part of her civilian disguise. Nothing remarkable or memorable.

  Slipping her knife into the boot that didn’t contain her back-up pistol, she returned to the room where she’d slept. Where Jaxon still slept in the second bed after having tossed the pillows to the floor. She’d worried he’d keep her awake all night with images from his dreams, but there had been nothing, and she suspected he’d been out on the couch most of the night.

  She walked over to see if he was near waking, but he didn’t move. The tiniest stream of light filtered through the blinds, throwing a slash across his face. He was curled in a fetal position, as he’d slept as a boy, as she’d also slept as a child. Was it an attempt to be small and unnoticed or simply a remnant of a time before birth when they hadn’t known fear?

  She stifled the sudden urge to touch him, to crawl in bed with him and feel his arms around her. But if she did that, it would change everything, and she’d only just gotten him back. She couldn’t risk what they had now. There was so much about him she didn’t know, so much that had happened in the twenty years that separated them. Every day together seemed to erase more of those years, but there were still things they hadn’t shared, things she’d probably only share with Jaxon.

  Not with Alex? Not likely when she couldn’t even spend the night at his place without seeing sketches from his dreams. She really needed to get a handle on her gift.

  Jaxon’s hand was on the mattress by his face, and before she could stop, she reached out to touch him. At the contact, she felt a slight tug in her brain and a sketch came from his mind—of an older woman with frightened eyes and a scared smile. Not his mother or anyone Reese knew, yet the woman stood on the step of a tiny colony house. Must be from the time after his mother was murdered and he’d been taken from Colony 6 and placed in a foster home.

  Jaxon stirred, and she didn’t want to be caught staring down at him, spying on his private thoughts, so she grabbed her gear and went to the main room. On the couch, she thumbed through the many drawings she’d finished last night until she got to a fresh page where she could draw the woman from Jaxon’s dream. She must mean something to Jaxon if he’d been thinking, or dreaming, rather, about her so vividly.

  The woman was too thin, as were most people in the colonies, and she had a kind face, but the eyes—the eyes told the story of a lifetime of fear. Not simply overwork, exhaustion, and discouragement, but constant mortal fear. Reese recognized the emotion. She’d experienced it while living with her drunken father, and she’d felt it every day for months before coming to Dallastar. Ever since the Kordell Corp, or the KC, had targeted her back in Estlantic. The KC was the largest business in Estlantic that wasn’t owned by the CORE, and when she’d linked one of their executives with running juke and he was sent to medical enhancement, the company had nearly killed her when they caught up to her. The five months Reese had spent in a hospital because of their retaliation had been the darkest days she’d spent since Jaxon’s mother had been murdered in the Coop. She still had nightmares of the attack.

  Her pencil continued to glide across the page as if memories of the KC didn’t matter. The house behind the woman was telling. The paint was new and the yard and flowers neatly tended. The woman loved growing things. At least she’d had that little bit.

  Reese snapped the book shut as Eagle came from the second room. Even this early he wore his dark glasses, though they couldn’t possibly be comfortable for sleep. She’d asked him once about the darkness indoors, and he’d explained that the glasses transmitted the world to his brain through his temples, not through his eyes, and he was so close to blind that the lenses could have been rainbow colored for all it mattered to his natural eyes.

  “Good, you’re up,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I want to show you something.” He shrugged off a large case slung over his shoulder with a strap.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s a nyckelira case.” He grinned and added, “With a few alterations. It’s something I’ve been working on in the underground. I printed it on the large printer before we left.”

  Nyckeliras were sixteen-string, fiddle-like musical instruments with dozens of keys that intersected the strings. The instrument was held like a guitar, but the strings played with a short bow while fingers of the left hand pushed the keys. The instruments were all the
rage among the youth of the CORE, bought at local furniture shops, though no one seemed to know exactly who was manufacturing them. It had become common to see people wearing the cases and gathering to play the instruments. Reese and Jaxon had recently broken up several groups at Freedom Fountain that had exceeded the twenty-citizen gathering limit.

  “I chose a nyckelira because the case wasn’t too wide or long to fit into my supply bag and because with some slight adjustments, it can hold an assault rifle and more.” He set the case on the second couch and flipped it open. “See, it fits a rifle perfectly, even with an oversized magazine and two extra clips.” He ran his fingers along the weapons. “But the real beauty is when you flip it over.” He shut the case and turned it. “See this seam? Well, it looks stitched like they used to do pre-Breakdown, but it’s fake. A certain series of taps in the right order will trigger a sensor I designed and . . .” He tapped quickly before pulling the case apart at the seam to reveal the temper laser he’d taken from the man at the sky train in Amarillo city and a tiny nine mil. “It’s a tight squeeze, but since this temper is stronger than ours, I printed a new barrel with an alternate design to make it fit.”

  “Nice.” Jaxon said from behind Reese, startling her a little. He was already dressed and his face was newly shaven. “I was wondering how we’d take our weapons through town without being too obvious. With Special Forces hanging around, we can’t all take our bags.”

  Eagle shut the case and tossed it to him. “It’s all yours, since you’re the one who’s waiting outside the doctor’s building for Reese. Dani and I can stay off the main street until you give us a signal.”

  “Show me the code again,” Jaxon said.

  Reese left them with the case and went to the readymeal dispenser. She wasn’t hungry, but she would eat to make sure she didn’t lack energy later on.

  “Where’s Dani?” she asked.

  “She sacked out in here last night,” Eagle answered, “but you know she doesn’t need more than a few hours of sleep. No idea where she is now. And before you ask, the kid’s still sleeping in the room. With any luck she’ll stay there.”

  Reese doubted it. Nova had already demonstrated that she didn’t think twice about throwing herself into the path of trouble.

  “That reminds me,” Jaxon said. “I told Hammer about Nova, so hopefully he’ll pass on the word to the captain. I haven’t heard back from either of them.”

  “Coward,” Reese shot, not hiding her grin.

  Jaxon shrugged. “Guilty as charged where that kid is concerned. You know how the captain feels about her.”

  The men joined her in eating, finishing before she did. One last weapons check and they slipped from the room without waking Nova. Dawn was already giving way to the morning sun, and it was cool enough even this far south that Reese was glad for the long sleeves of her blouse.

  “Keep your T-links open on our feed,” Jaxon told them. “And let’s activate the skin tags Dani gave us. Just one press, though. We don’t want the cameras in the city recording our faces and connecting us to the doctor’s disappearance, but we do want them to read our fake CivIDs.”

  Reese pressed the skin tag on her neck firmly, waiting for the minute electric tingle, and then adjusted the T-link over her eyes. The construction felt similar to her iTeev, except for the superior wireless earbud.

  Without warning, Dani appeared on the sidewalk a meter away from them. Reese saw her come from the building’s shadow, but the movement barely registered. It was almost as though she wasn’t there one moment and magically appeared the next.

  “Still nothing from our friends,” she said, her gaze flicking toward the C-lodge. “They haven’t left.”

  “Good.” Jaxon smiled. “Let’s do this then. The office will be opening in twenty minutes. The shuttle I ordered from the room Teev should be here already.”

  There it was, a small blue shuttle rolling down the street toward them. The door slid open as it approached, having scanned the fake CivID Jaxon’s card projected. Reese climbed into the back with Eagle.

  “Good morning,” chimed the onboard Teev. “Time to destination is five minutes. Do you wish to make another stop after?”

  “No,” Jaxon said. “Please turn off audio.”

  “Turning off,” came the pleasant voice.

  Compared to Amarillo City, Santoni was tiny. Like all of the smaller cities, the buildings predated Breakdown, and some hadn’t been properly repaired. There were no private cars in sight, only more public shuttles. At least the road seemed in good repair.

  People began appearing on the sidewalks, nodding to each other with courteous smiles as they passed. Reese found herself exchanging nods right along with the strangers. Friendly people, she thought.

  The doctor’s office was at the west end of town, nestled between a shopping district and a group of apartment buildings. The shuttle stopped at a bakery some distance before the doctor’s building, and Reese climbed out. Nodding farewell to the others, she sauntered down the street, pausing to look at a display in a window before moving on. She passed the doctor’s office and circled around the apartments to see what was on the other side. Nothing but sparse woods, which was a rare find. Like most trees in the CORE, they were protected by law in an effort to restore the huge forests that had been destroyed during Breakdown. Only the forests near Colony 3 were used in manufacturing, carefully replanted and tended by the colonists. No, by the slaves.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Jaxon, who was doing his own reconnaissance, the nyckelira case over his shoulder. He’d know as well as she did that the woods might be a good place to hide in a pinch.

  When she arrived once more in front of the doctor’s office, she went inside, surprising a young receptionist who was removing her brown jacket. “Good morning,” the woman said in sing-song, tossing the jacket over her chair. “May I help you?”

  Reese pocketed her T-link and smiled at the real welcome in her voice. “Yes, I have an appointment at eight with Doctor Kentley.”

  “Of course.” The woman picked up an iTeev, folded in a square, and held it up in her direction. “Let’s check your CivID. Okay, there it is. Reba, isn’t it?” Reese nodded and she continued, “Your file says you’re here for back pain? I’m sorry about that. Anyway, you’re all checked in. Please have a seat.” She indicated the flowery upholstered couches in the lobby. “I’ll call you back when the doctor is ready for you. We still have a few minutes before your appointment.”

  “Thank you.” Reese started toward the couches, rubbing the small of her back for show.

  “Oh, and just a reminder: if your CivID isn’t implanted yet, you should schedule that appointment very soon. We’ll be doing those at the hospital, so we have limited openings. And you don’t want to miss the deadline.” Her smile this time was strained. Reese wanted to ask if the receptionist’s ID was already implanted and why it was necessary to do it at the hospital.

  “I’m just here about the back pain,” Reese said. “I’ll take care of the rest with my regular doctor. Thank you.”

  The younger woman nodded, tucked her dark hair behind her ear, and waved her holo screen to life.

  “Jaxon?” Reese whispered as she walked away. “How’s it looking out there?”

  “No sign of Special Forces.”

  Dani’s voice cut in. “Actually, I just received a signal from the pressure pad. Our friends at the C-lodge are leaving. My guess is they’re heading your way.”

  “How many left the room?” Jaxon asked.

  “Hard to say, but I think at least five. Probably all six.”

  “Eagle,” Jaxon said, “now might be a good time for your little fire. In case they are heading to pick up the good doctor. Even if they aren’t planning to grab him, the distraction may lure them away from this area.”

  “Sending the signal now,” Eagle responded. “The alarms will go off in less than sixty seconds.”

  Reese took a deep breath and sat on one of th
e flowered couches. The enforcers had come on the train, but their friends might have a black Special Forces shuttle. That meant less than five minutes away. “Be on the lookout for one of those black shuttles,” she whispered.

  “Nothing yet,” Jaxon assured her. “But Reese, I’ve got eyes on two men entering the building. They . . . they’re dressed like Newcali soldiers.”

  “What?” This from Dani, who seemed offended even by the idea.

  “Same gray cement color,” Jaxon said. “A little more worn maybe, but the same color.”

  A sliver of unease shot through Reese. Had Dani betrayed the doctor’s whereabouts to her fringer friends? She’d made no secret that Newcali wanted—no, needed him.

  “Cotton-headed, pus lickin’ jukeheads,” Dani swore. “I’m going to smash in their punk bucket faces.” Which Reese could only assume meant she had told her friends, and they were taking matters into their own hands.

  Reese could see the men now, hurrying to the desk where they consulted with the receptionist in low, urgent tones. Reese sprang to her feet and hurried over.

  “Go on back,” the woman said to the men, casting a nervous glance around them at Reese. “Be quick, though.”

  The shorter of the two men briefly met Reese’s gaze as they hurried through the door the receptionist had indicated. Tension tightened his forehead under the shaggy hair, and his brown eyes were both hard and lost at the same time. Reese understood that he’d do anything to accomplish whatever he was here to do.

  Well, so would she.

  “How long before I can see the doctor?” Reese asked. “It’s eight now.”

  The receptionist’s pale face blanched further. “They’ll only be a minute.”

  Something didn’t ring true in her words, but unless Reese was willing to barge back there and shoot the fringers, she’d have to be patient. She turned away from the counter.

  “Jaxon,” she said softly, putting space between herself and the receptionist. “They went into a back room to see him. Someone better watch the rear in case there’s another entrance.”