Street Freaks

by Terry Brooks

  “Who are they?” he asks.

  “Ostensibly, Achilles Pod. But, of course, someone had to dispatch them. And that someone probably got their orders from someone else much higher up in the U.T. Government. We don’t know who yet. I’m looking into it.”

  Holly is seething. “If they hadn’t been holding weapons on the rest of this, I would have done a little makeover work on that black-clad for what he did to Jenny. Scrawny little coward! I might get another chance at him, though. They’ll find an excuse to come back again at some point. They won’t be able to help themselves. But we’ll be waiting. And we’ll be better prepared when they do.”

  She looks eager, as if she hopes they come back in the next five minutes so she can break a few arms and legs and maybe some heads in the bargain. Jenny touches her arm in warning. “Remember what the Shoe said.”

  Holly grimaces as she repeats what was obviously the Shoe’s warning. “Don’t make trouble. Don’t invite retaliation. Just stick to doing business.” She pauses. “If they let us.”

  “They can’t stop what they don’t know about,” Jenny says enigmatically.

  “They caught us by surprise,” Holly explains to Ash. “We have that protection order against any sort of searches. You saw Jenny use it a few days ago. But this bunch came with a writ of negation.”

  “What were they looking for?” Cay wants to know.

  Jenny and Holly exchange a glance. “We’re not sure,” Jenny said. “They just showed us the writ, demanded entry, moved us all outside, and searched the building from top to bottom. At least, the parts of it they could access. They didn’t find the hidden parts, the ones that mattered. When they didn’t find whatever it was they were looking for, they took it out on me.”

  “The Shoe wasn’t here to stand up for us,” Holly says. “We’re a bunch of kids. So we never found out what was going on. No explanation was offered. They stayed all day, poking around, looking things over. They seemed to be waiting for something. Then, after it got dark, they moved outside. Stayed all night, keeping watch. Stayed until a couple of hours ago. We waited until we were sure they were gone to bring you back. We didn’t dare risk trying to contact you while they were still inside the gates.”

  Jenny shrugs. “Sorry to leave you out there by yourselves with no explanation.”

  T.J. sticks his beachboy blond head around the corner, grinning. “Oh, I bet it wasn’t too hard to take, was it, Ash? All night alone with Cay?”

  Ash feels himself turning red. “It wasn’t like that.”

  It’s a lame response, and T.J. just rolls his eyes. “No, of course it wasn’t. Not at all. Anyway, the Shoe wants to see you. And, Cay, if you ever take the Flick again without my permission, you can bend over and kiss your pretty butt goodbye.”

  He stomps away. Jenny gestures toward the Shoe’s office. “The Shoe got back right after Achilles Pod left. You better go in, Ash. He’s been waiting for you. I think he’s got something to tell you.”

  He gives Cay a quick glance and does what Jenny tells him. T.J. is waiting just outside the office door, lounging against the wall. He opens the door for Ash and winks suggestively as the boy passes him. “Tell me all about it later,” he whispers. “Every detail. Don’t leave anything out.”

  The Shoe is sitting behind a desk, his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him. His hands fly across the virtual keyboard, moving fluidly, barely touching the smooth black surface of the interface. He glances up, then away.

  “Sit down, Ash,” he says.

  Ash sits. There is a long silence as the Shoe continues to labor over whatever task he has set himself. Then, abruptly, he sits back in his chair, his hands folding on the desktop, fingers locking. He is resplendent in a silver sheath with royal-blue piping and a scarlet sash. He is immaculately dressed, perfectly groomed, and completely at ease. He is the picture of confidence.

  “You’ve had quite a time of it.”

  “I’m fine.” Ash attempts a casually dismissive gesture and doesn’t quite pull it off. “Better than Jenny.”

  The Shoe shrugs. “She’s trained to deal with these situations, even one as unexpected and dangerous as this was. Achilles Pod is not to be fooled with. They have an absolute pass from the authorities. If they decide to kill you, you’re dead. They might have to explain themselves internally, but they will never have to answer to any court of law. In this case, they seemed more intent on finding something than eliminating anyone.”

  “Finding me, you think?” Just saying the words makes him uncomfortable. “That’s why they were here, isn’t it. They were searching for me?”

  “Entirely possible. But I can’t be sure. I haven’t been able to get my hands on a copy of their orders or the writ of negation. I don’t know who authorized them. Jenny asked to see a copy of the writ the squad leader was carrying, but the name of the issuer was blacked out.”

  “But this was because of me, no matter who authorized or signed anything.” Ash has made up his mind to face the truth. “This hasn’t happened before, has it? You were protected until I came. Now you have police coming at you from every direction. Achilles Pod doesn’t do this sort of work. This isn’t right.”

  The Shoe shrugs. “So much of our world isn’t. But we’ve been threatened before and come out of it in one piece. I just need a little more time to get a handle on what’s happening. There’s a reason for all this, and I intend to find out what it is. Meanwhile, this is still your home and you are still welcome to stay with us. That’s mostly what I wanted you to know.”

  Ash hesitates. “Thank you.”

  The Shoe brings out a Sparx, unwraps it, and pops it into his mouth. “Don’t thank me. Thank them.” He gestures vaguely toward the door. “Your new family. All of them stood up for you. Every one. They told me they wanted you to stay. Insisted on it. No one pushes us around, they told me. Someone is always trying to do just that because of what they are. Street freaks. ’Tweeners. Riffraff and castoffs trying to pass for humans. They’ve heard it all their lives. They’ve learned to live with it, but they don’t like that it’s happening to you.”

  Ash is surprised. He had thought they would blame him for the intrusion and insist he had to go. He is warmed by the fact that they want him to stay. “I’m grateful,” he says.

  The Shoe nods. “That said, we have to accept the fact that your presence at Street Freaks presents an ongoing risk for all of us. If Achilles Pod was looking specifically for you yesterday, they had to have good reason to think you were here. Someone had to have told them. The hunt to find you isn’t going to go away. Your face is still showing up regularly on the vidviews. And some are bound to be tempted by the reward offer. The search to find you has not been called off. You are still in a lot of danger.”

  The Shoe leans back again in his chair. “I don’t like saying this, but you might be better off going to your uncle. Cyrus Collins is a powerful man. He can probably do more to protect you than we can. I’m not saying you have to leave, but maybe you need to at least think about it.”

  Ash nods. He knows things might be on the verge of spiraling out of control. He does not want his friends to be hurt because of him. What happened to Jenny is bad enough. He does not want any more harm to come to them if he can prevent it.

  “Where did you go with Cay yesterday?” the Shoe asks suddenly. “You didn’t say.”

  There it is. The one question he didn’t want to answer. He shrugs, trying to come up with something. “I wasn’t feeling well. She offered to take me to her doctor.”

  The Shoe regards him silently. “She exceeded her authority,” he says finally. “But it turns out to be a good thing she did, doesn’t it? Because, otherwise, you would have been here and Achilles Pod might have found you.”

  “She was just trying to help,” Ash offers, not wanting Cay to get into trouble.

  The Shoe nods. “Try to exercise better judgment next time. Now go back out with the others. Find something to do.”

  Th
e Shoe motions him out the door. He goes without looking back, suddenly uncomfortable for reasons he cannot explain. On the face of things, he should be happy. He is still part of the Street Freaks family, assured of a place where he will be safe. Or free to leave and go to his uncle, where he might be even safer. A good choice to have. But he is troubled anyway.

  T.J. falls in beside him. “Tell me about you and Cay.”

  “Nothing to tell,” Ash says quickly.

  “Oh, come on. You stayed with her all night and nothing happened? She’s a pleasure synth! You’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind for nothing to have happened!”

  “Well, nothing did. We talked. That’s all.”

  “You talked.” T.J. snorts derisively. “If so, you missed the opportunity of a lifetime. If I’d had the sort of chance you did, I would’ve done more than just talk!”

  Ash doesn’t know what to think. He glances over at T.J. He wants to ask the obvious but doesn’t. “Will you just put me to work?” he says finally.

  T.J. leads him out into the bays and turns him over to Woodrow, who is tinkering with engine computers set up on blocks. Chips and diodes and connectors are spread out everywhere.

  Woodrow glances up. “Welcome home,” the boy greets him. Then he sees the look on Ash’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  There is no good answer to that question, and Ash doesn’t try to provide one. He simply shrugs, waits for T.J. to walk away, and then turns to Woodrow and asks for something to do.

  Woodrow obliges, and Ash works all morning cleaning and sorting parts mindlessly, which allows him to spend time thinking about his situation. Slowly, he arrives at a decision. The Shoe is right. It is not safe here. Holly said as much when she told him Achilles Pod would be back. Achilles Pod does not accept failure. If they were told he is here, they will not stop looking for him. They will wait awhile, but eventually they will return.

  This reinforces his belief that by staying he puts the others in danger. Worse, by staying he is doing nothing to try to solve the mystery of his father’s death and his own untenable predicament. It is as if he is abdicating any responsibility for either. He knows the others are doing the best they can to help him. But he is doing nothing to help himself. He has become a passive participant in his own life. He has placed his fate entirely in the hands of others, and he knows he cannot leave it at that. The Shoe and the other kids mean well, but they don’t see things the way he does. They don’t have to endure his growing sense of guilt and frustration.

  Midday, he goes to T.J. and takes him aside. “I want you to do me a favor,” he says to the other boy. “A big favor. It may get you in trouble. It might be dangerous. But it will help get things at Street Freaks back to the way they were.”

  “Well, I like the last part,” T.J. says. “Tell me more.”

  So Ash does, providing his reasons for why he should not remain at Street Freaks, trying to make his explanation sound rational and smart. “What I want you to do, as soon as it’s possible,” he says, “is to take me to ORACLE and leave me with my uncle.”

  T.J. stares at him. “Didn’t we drop that idea a while back? You can’t be sure where you’ll end up if your uncle decides not to take you in. Here, at least, you know where you stand.”

  “But staying here puts all of you in danger. It won’t end until they find me. If I go to Uncle Cyrus, everyone will know I am under the protection of ORACLE. Who’s going to risk messing around with me then?”

  T.J. thinks about it. “I’d have to ask the Shoe first.”

  “No. We don’t tell anyone. Besides, the Shoe already said I should consider doing this.”

  T.J. shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. He would skin me alive if I didn’t say something to him first. What if something went wrong? I wouldn’t be heartbroken to have you out of here, but I can’t do it your way.”

  “Up to you. But my mind is made up. I have to go. If you won’t help me, I’ll go by myself.”

  T.J. laughs. “Sure, you will. You wouldn’t get two blocks. You wouldn’t get one!” He shakes his head. “Look, how about if we try something else. Call it a compromise.”

  “What sort of compromise?”

  “You call your uncle on a public vidview. Let him know you’re okay. See how you feel about leaving here after talking to him. Just don‘t tell him where you are, no matter what. Don’t say a word about Street Freaks.”

  Ash considers it. Maybe T.J. is right. It might be better to contact his uncle first. If he’s willing to take Ash in, he could send someone to get him. That would go a long way toward reassuring him that he would end up in the right situation.

  Still, he hesitates. Leaving won’t be easy, even if it is for the best. These kids are his friends. It will be especially difficult to leave Cay. But he knows that at some point he must let go. It seems to him that this is as good a time as any. If they no longer share a physical proximity, it will be easier.

  “All right,” he says. “But you don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want them to know until after I’m gone.”

  “Less fuss, huh?” T.J. gives him a nod. “Okay. As soon as I see a chance, we’ll slip out. I know where we can make the call. You just go back to work. Be patient. Hey, don’t look so bent out of shape. This is the right thing to do. Maybe Cay will show up and surprise you with a goodbye kiss.”

  He starts to turn away, but Ash takes hold of his arm. “Is there anything between you and Cay?”

  T.J. smirks. “Yeah, fish. A whole lot of space.”

  Then he pulls away and is gone.

  - 13 -

  Time passes slowly while Ash waits on T.J. But the other boy studiously avoids speaking to him. Ash worries T.J. has decided his offer to help is a mistake, and Ash would rather not be reminded of it. He lets the matter lie. He practices patience. What else can he do? Going off alone would be foolhardy; he has no idea where reliable means of transportation can be found within the Red Zone. Attempting to find a way to make the call to his uncle on his own is unnecessarily risky.

  He considers giving up on T.J. and asking Cay to help, about abandoning his decision not to involve her further in his problems. But Cay leaves sometime during that first night and does not return. He waits for her to reappear early the following morning, but she doesn’t. He wants to ask someone where she is, but that would reveal him in a way he is trying to avoid. His relationship with Cay is private, his bond with her a personal matter, and he wants it to keep it that way.

  So he waits some more.

  Finally, on the second day, T.J. comes up, puts his arm around him in a brotherly sort of way, and steers him over to where Jenny is overseeing work on a new street machine. He waits for her to look at him.

  “Gonna take our guest with me to get the engine parts at Lonnergon’s. Let him air out a bit.” He slaps Ash on the back. “Not to worry. I’ll keep him tucked away so he won’t be exposed to the watchful eyes of the larger Calzonia population. Come on, Ash.”

  After allowing him time to retrieve his backpack, T.J. whisks him through the dining room and out the back door to where the Flick is parked. “That was easier than I thought,” he remarks as they climb in and buckle up. “Jenny didn’t say a word.”

  She hardly glanced at them. She didn’t even look surprised. She has barely spoken to Ash since his return. She has said nothing about her efforts to find out anything more about his father and BioGen. He knows that it is possible she has found nothing helpful and wants to avoid telling him so. But he cannot help feeling she has distanced herself for a different reason.

  T.J. pulls out of the Street Freaks compound and turns the Flick down the Straightaway. He jams the thruster levers forward, and the vehicle’s big engine roars in response. The tires squeal and the vehicle leaps ahead, screaming down the open roadway, gaining speed. T.J. is uncharacteristically silent.

  Ash closes his eyes and tries hard to breathe normally. He wishes he were behind the wheel.

  They drive to the edge of the Red Zone
, farther than Ash has ever been. It is not much different at the edge than it is at the center—at least along the Straightaway. They speed past shops and warehouses, food joints and clubs, pleasure houses and gambling palaces, until finally signs for the borders of the Red Zone appear. Moments later, T.J. slows just enough to perform a stomach-lurching turn into a parking garage situated next to a substem station.

  As he parks the Flick and shuts her down, T.J. looks over. “We have to take the substem from here. I don’t want to risk taking the Flick into the Metro. Remember, you don’t look like the pictures they keep showing on the readers. There’s no way anyone can know who you are. Just act normal. You’re just another rider.”

  They climb out of the Flick and walk into the ground floor of substem #80. T.J. glances at the schedule board, nods, and points. The #35 is due in five minutes. They walk over to a ticket machine and purchase passes, go down a flight of stairs to the boarding area, walk out onto the platform where the #35 will arrive, and stand with the other riders, staring up the tracks. Ash shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing down at his work clothes. In fact, he does look like everyone else—his clothes rumpled, hair messy, expression a bit pinched—someone in need of a cleanup and a few more credits in his pocket. He has studiously avoided scanning the reader boards, but he knows that if he bothered to do so, he would see himself staring back.

  The commuter arrives, pulling in with a whishing sound as sensors signal, electronic brakes engage, and the passenger cars come to a smooth stop. Ash and T.J. crowd in with the other riders and stand in a cluster, dozens of bodies pressing up against one another. No one looks at anyone else, which gives Ash an unexpected sense of security. He is out in the open and surrounded by other people, but at the same time he is indistinguishable from them. He glances at T.J., who gives him a small nod of acknowledgment. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and tries to relax.

  They are not two minutes into their ride when he notices a young girl looking at him. He instinctively looks away.