Constable Virji appeared behind her, the product of a time burp. She had not noticed the cell open or him walk in. He held her chin and wiped her clean with a microfiber towel. Submissive as a two year old in a high chair, she endured it, thanking him when he finished.
Hargreaves had his nightstick out, a look on his face as if he wanted to pay her back for making him look like a fool in front of his mates.
“You know, Harg, she was stonkered. Highly unlikely she intended to catch you with her boot. Bet whatever that CSB chap did had a part to play as well.”
“Bad business, all of it.” The big man grumbled, sliding his truncheon back in place on his belt with a loud clack. “Damn psionics. Should just kill the lot of them; or ship them off to the UCF, they seem to like ‘em there.”
Anna curled her legs behind her on the ground, picking with an idle finger at the plastic fusing her ankles together, wishing her skirt was longer. A spark between her thumb and forefinger could melt the riot ties off, but she could not explain that away. Assuming, of course, she could even form the requisite concentration to make the lightning obey.
“I’m sorry.” Her head pitched forward, a mild convulsion preceded her swallowing the urge to continue retching. “Got some bad zoom. If’n it has your pleasure, constables, I’ll do whatever to make it up. I’m just a useless Cov.”
The last part fell from her lips feeling as though she had signed her own death warrant. As soon as the police heard you were a nobody, it was open season. Anna flashed through a waking nightmare of the small bit of Newsnet space her naked body would get tomorrow when some river scav or boat pilot found it on the side of the Thames. She hoped they would at least pose her with a little modesty. She pictured her pink bedroom, back home. The want to be there made her bawl.
“Bother it all.” Hargreaves frowned, his jowls wobbling as he shook his head. “Not touchin’ that povvy growler with a borrowed truncheon.”
Virji laughed. “The face you made when she booted you, I’d expect you’d have to borrow a truncheon.”
Hargreaves shook his fist at his partner, growling.
Constable Virji held her by the armpits and lifted her up to sit on the bed. “You still feelin’ a bit of the violent, lass?”
Anna sniffled, and composed herself. “No, constable.” She stared into her lap, whimpering in the same voice she had used the night her father died. “I’m sorry, constable. I don’t remember it at all, whatever the man did to me…”
“CSB wanted to check you out, they got it in their ‘eads you were unregistered. Guess they’re getting bored these days, can’t tell a psionic from a strung out pikey,” Hargreaves said. “Lot of effort for a false alarm.”
“Dodgy lot, that.” Virji muttered.
The entire meeting with the thin man had all but escaped her memory, lost in a cloud of zoom-dreams. Flashes of a black coat danced at the edge of her mind, a glimpse of the twisting flesh tendril made her tremble. The government men thought of her as another drug-addled piece of street trash who went crazy while in holding.
She tried to sound younger. “Beggin’ your pardon, constables. I think he made the chems worse. I never had a trip that bad before.”
Virji removed the restraints and handed her the towel. “Still got some chunder on ya. You’re free ta go. There’s a loo down the hall if you need to clean up a bit.”
Hargreaves trudged off out of sight. Anna dabbed at her face, and smiled at Virji. She strained to peek at his thoughts, but read only a wall of zoom-fog.
“I’m sorry if I was any trouble.”
he black mud of The Ruin was a sight Anna never thought would be a welcome thing. Stepping around the permanent puddles, she tried to keep to the fragmented scraps of paving as much as possible. How odd it was that not one, but two policemen in short order had been nice to her. They didn’t even steal anything.
What’s the world coming to when Old Bill treats a Cov like a person?
The sergeant had left her hanging with her naughty bits out even if he did spare her from Brown. Virji had been nicer, though he could have taken the binders off a lot faster than he did. Then again, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense given her violent outburst. A naughty smile found a home on her lips as she pictured Constable Virji out of uniform.
Her backside stung where the zoom patch had been; she had overdone it bad by squeezing it so much. Without the tolerance she had built up over the years, a smash like that could have killed her. Limping through the misting rain, she pieced together that the flesh tentacle had to be the zoom’s reaction to a mind-probing telepath. Apparently, the drug had muddled things enough for him not to find her secret. If the chem could dull her brain to the point where she couldn’t use her own powers, it made sense it could do it in the other direction. Out here in the mud, the reality of her predicament knocked her into a shaking squat. If the zoom had not worked, or if she had tried to fight her way out, she would be dead now, or worse―hauled off by the CSB.
No one ever reappeared after the Clandestine Service Bureau got their hands on them.
After leaping a wide puddle of unusual breadth, she wobbled to keep her balance without dropping the case of meals or the little white bear she tucked under her jacket to shield it from the rain. The stuffed animal made her think of Twee, something pure and innocent being brought into this awful place. Darkening light made her look up at the shiny ebon walls of Coventry Tower. Ninety stories of human refuse, its windows shifted with the shadowy forms of people.
Anna’s body sagged. Futility came on strong. The black building, the grey clouds, the never-ending rain―all of it crashed into her with the idea that perhaps next time she should fight. Mostly so they would kill her and take her away from all of this. She thought of her father.
I should have just let Daddy kill me.
For minutes, she wallowed in it, until her eyes caught a glimpse of the tiny pink bow peeking out from under her arm. Thoughts of Faye made her self-pity less overbearing. The kid needed help she would not find anywhere else.
Anna looked up, staring defiance at the jet scar through the sky. Coventry was the home of the unwanted, but perhaps the poor bastards living there had made the choice not to want society.
“You awright, luv?”
Ol’ Jack’s voice caused her to jump. He had approached while she daydreamed, leaning on a fragment of concrete wall tilting out of the muck. Somehow, his sunglasses avoided the rain, but his leather coat ran with thousands of trickles. The white of a smile broke the darkness of his face as he held out a hand.
“Blimey, Jack. I’m shitless.” She took a few breaths to calm down.
He laughed, taking the case of instant meals. “Sorry, Pixie. Saw you out here alone, and what with it bein’ dark and all.”
She stepped closer, letting him put an arm over her shoulders. “Damn fine of you, Jack.”
“Penny’s been climbin’ the walls.”
Walking in stride, she huddled into him. “I’m sorry. Damn filth got me again.”
“Shiftless bastards.” He grumbled. “Did they at least use a nodder?”
She looked up at him, confused. “That’s just the thing, Jack. Twice now, they didn’t touch me… Was almost like I’s a Proper. Makes me worry.”
“Bah.” He squeezed her with a one-armed hug. “Nothin’ wrong with ya, lass. Just gettin’ lucky to find the ones wot ‘ave morals I guess.”
“Old Bill has morals?” Anna blinked. “Well maybe to the Propers.”
He carried her over a huge puddle. “You’d scrub up right nice, Pixie. Change your clothes and they couldn’t tell you weren’t a Proper yourself.”
She blushed.
“Oi, darkmeat. Give us a go with the bint.”
Ol’ Jack stopped walking, letting Anna down on her feet as he turned to face the voice. She clung to his arm, not sure if the fright that came over her at the sight of the six East End Boys in a half circle around them was real or acted. Jack met their sta
res without a flinch, cracking his neck with a left-right tilt of his head.
“You lot’ll naff off if you fancy keepin’ the ability to breathe.”
Anna looked up at Jack, shocked by his total calm. Faint green light reflected on the inside of his sunglasses. The realization he was augged paled her face and opened her mouth. She had always been so high around him she never felt the electricity inside his limbs until now.
One of the gangers stepped in, raising a pipe. “You got some cods, mate.”
“You know the rules. Any piece out after dark is up for the takin’… now back off.” A second man pulled a sword off his back.
The others all produced weapons. Cloud-filtered moonlight glinted from pipes, knives, and spiked knuckles as the men closed in on Ol’ Jack.
“Jack, you don’t have to―”
“Hold this.” Jack handed her the box of instant meals and pointed at the Boys. “Look ‘ere you planks. I’ll not warn you again.”
The East End boys grinned at him, confident in their six to one ratio. When they showed no sign of relent, Ol’ Jack blurred into a streak at the man with the sword.
In the span of two seconds, a right hand punch to the gut cracked ribs, a left hand jab to the side likely ruptured a kidney, and a spinning kick to the face coincided with Jack tearing the weapon loose from the ganger’s hand.
Ol’ Jack came to a halt, his coat fluttering to rest behind him as augmented strength launched the East Ender fifteen meters away where he landed with a muddy splat. The motion had been so fast the others still stared at the water pooling in the footprints he left next to Anna.
With a war scream, another lunged at him, swinging a pipe. Jack caught the end with his left hand, bending the metal as the weapon came down. A stomp kick into the chest launched the Boy out of the fray; he hit the mud and slid into a crumbling brick wall, causing a rain of wet splats.
Like a dervish, Jack whirled into the rest of the gangers. He ducked a pair of nunchucks and walloped the man on the back with the pipe, driving his face into the ground. While he stepped over that one, he threw the pipe into the groin of another man running in with a vibro knife, dropping him to his knees with a pitiful moan.
The fifth ganger swung a chain, which wrapped about Jack’s right forearm. The Boy pulled, angling for an opening with a spiked fist. Jack took one step from the yank rather than fall as the East Ender hoped. After adjusting his stance, he wrenched the chain from the East Ender’s grip while catching the Boy with his free left hand.
Jack hauled the ganger around in a spin, tossing the street thug like a shot put over a twelve-foot high fragment of wall. The body landed out of sight with the painful sound of crunching, as well as clanging metal. The final man backpedaled as Jack bore down on him, lowering his pipe and fleeing into The Ruin.
“You kids shouldn’t ‘ave such things.” Jack shook the composite broadsword at them. “I’ll keep this so you don’t hurt yourselves.” A third the weight of what a steel blade would be, the weapon pivoted over his hand in a series of fluid sweeps as he gauged its balance. “Now, where in the hell do gang trash get their hands on a military blade?” The glint of it in the pallid light brought a smile of remembrance to Ol’ Jack’s face.
Anna stood from where she had crouched. “Bloody hell Jack, what the devil was that?”
“Composite blade. Military issue, for starship boarding tubes.”
“No, dammit. I mean what the crap is this?” She extended a hand at the moaning bodies.
He took the case of instant meals again, offering her his elbow with a smile. “I’ve had an interesting life.”
She accepted his elbow, this time noticing how firm it was. When she focused her mind through the fading zoom, the sense of electrical energy in both arms became apparent as well as lines of it throughout his whole body. He had a lot of cyberware. His two prosthetic arms had to be military grade; visually, they looked no different from natural limbs. At least one eye was artificial, and he had some manner of full-body speedware.
Adrenaline from the fight tamped down the fog in her head enough to peer into Jack’s head.
Flashes of red desert drifted through his mind as they navigated The Ruin. He had been in the military; something called the SAS, and his thoughts drifted back to combat he had seen on Mars. Old army buddies leaned on frightening looking vehicles, smiles and waves shifted in the fog of years. Under it all, he seemed oddly focused on Anna’s welfare. The name Hannah formed and faded as he looked at her.
Anna worried he might still be with the government, helping those two men who showed up at the checkpoint. Alas, dulled by zoom and lack of practice, her ability could not reach beyond his surface thoughts. When he smiled at her again, she sensed only relief at having protected her.
Anna made her way up twelve stories, stepping over bodies of those too strung out to find their hovels. Bottles clanked and rolled out of her way. A can bounced down the pale concrete stairs over rusting metal slats, which crowned the edges. Here and there, bits of it went missing wherever an errant bullet had gone by or a desperate wretch had pried the steel away to sell for scrap.
The thirteenth floor, labeled fourteen, offered trash of lower density to wade through as Penny spent much of her time cleaning the area when she was not babysitting. It gave her a sense of purpose and made the place feel more like a real home than a squat no one cared about.
She walked around the corner, heading for her room. Ten doors past her flat, the area broke apart into one wide-open space; half of the thirteenth floor was blown out and all of those apartments merged into one commingled mess of hanging tarpaulins and jagged metal struts. Few were sorry enough to make their home there, with the east wall missing, it was little different than sleeping outside. Here, behind the protection of a ninety-degree bend, their apartments felt like a home.
Her boot left a scuffmark on the dull orange door of Penny’s apartment before she walked into hers. Faye sat cross-legged on the bed, still in her skivvies, listening to some horrendous loud music piped into wireless earpieces from her NetMini. The girl looked up at Anna, as if disappointed to see her back.
“It’s not your apartment yet, kiddo.” Anna smiled, hiding the discomfort still aching through her.
The music stopped as the girl tilted her head at the giant box under Anna’s arm. “Wot’s that?”
Anna flopped on the end of the bed. “Got you some things.”
She set the case of instant meals down and handed her the bear. “Couldn’t resist when I saw it.”
The girl smirked at the offering, as if it was uncool.
“G’won then. You don’t need to act hard all the time.” She dropped the bear in the kid’s lap. “Oh, and there’s this too.” She handed her the box with the earrings.
“What’s all this for?” Faye glanced at them, throwing back a suspicious stare.
“Saw them and thought of you. Figured you could use a cheer-up.”
A little crack peered through the girl’s shell; her nascent smile ran away from a crash at the front of the apartment.
Penny burst through the door, running up to Anna with a bog-eyed stare. “Cripes, girl. Where the hell have you been? I thought you got nicked.”
“I did, but it was just a border check.”
Penny hugged her. “Which border did they check?”
Anna laughed. “I got lucky again.”
“You look awful.” Penny fussed over her. “What is that smell? Did you hurl?”
“Whore of a comedown this time…”
“Dammit girl.” Penny shoved at her. “You need to get off the shit.”
Faye set the bear to the side and helped herself to one of the instant meals. Ten seconds after she yanked the pull strip, the room flooded with the scent of Chinese noodle soup. She picked at the corner tab, and drew back the plastic sheet, which loosed a cloud of steam into the air. Translucent noodles swam in a yellow broth, interspersed with hunks of vat-grown shrimp and hydroponic-farm vegeta
bles. The girl started on it straight away, so hungry she ignored how hot it was.
“You nicked a case of ramen?” Penny rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Cripes this is the good stuff. What’s it a hundred credits?”
“I bought the food… nicked a necklace.” Anna drew a finger around her throat with a drug-dulled grin.
Penny swatted at her, scolding. “Anna, you’re being an idiot. You know if you get pinched for it now you’ll go away. I don’t want to lose you.” The batting became a hug.
I did for practice. I’m not gonna keep at it, too dangerous. I overdid it years ago and almost got bagged. Usin’ my talents like that’ll eventually get me killed.
Penny squeezed her tight as Anna’s telepathic voice entered her mind.
“You two munch rug or something?” Faye slurped at her noodles.
Anna snickered.
Penny blushed. “Twee! Certainly not.”
“Well, she’s got a man at least.” Faye nodded at Penny.
Anna’s laughter faded to a shameful stare at the ground. She did not want to admit to working at a strip club or being rented out for six hundred credits an hour. “I just haven’t met the right―”
“Bullshit.” Faye slurped again. “I saw the faerie hologram rig; you’re a stripper aren’t you? You on the game too?”
Anna looked at the nightstand, at the leafy metal harness lay like a dead spider on the imitation wood.
“It’s cute.” Faye slurped noodles. “I tried it on. You don’t have to sugar-coat shit for me. I’m not as innocent as I look. Izzat why they call you Pixie?”
She figured it for posturing. There was no way this girl was anything more than a spoiled suburbanite. She wanted to be seen as tough and undamaged, even if she was homesick and scared to death.
Anna had nowhere to hide, and maybe the truth would send the kid home. “Yeah. There isn’t much other place for girls to go out here. The name came first, ‘cause I’m five nothin’ with a sprog’s face.” She laid it on thick as she described the club, saying she could keep forty credits of the six hundred her manager charged a man to use her. “They basically own me, Twee. If someone pays Blake, I don’t get a say in what they do to me.”
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