by Elin Wyn
One tentative push through the jagged opening, another against the half-dissolved back wall of the safe.
Eighty.
A final push, and nothing but empty space beyond. I was in.
The opening was narrow, barely wide enough to slide my hand through, but there was no time to widen it. Now that I’d breached their security, there’d never be an opening like this again.
Even through the glove, I could feel the triangular prism shape of the antonium vials. I grabbed one and, slower than I would've liked, eased it out to place in the pouch I’d unfolded while waiting.
Each vial would nestle in a separate pocket. Antonium had a reputation for nasty surprises when jostled about.
Sweat ran down my back, measuring the seconds in fear. I’d wipe it off later. No time now.
Eyes watering from the fumes that still lingered in the alleyway, I reached through the gap for another vial, then another.
Seventy.
The urge to just grab a handful, stuff them in my pack and be gone shook my chest. But the hole wasn't large enough for a fisted hand. I had to wrap my fingers underneath each prism and slowly coax it out towards me.
Another one nestled in its pocket.
The sting of the acid against the flesh of my arm began to burn. I hadn't thought it would still be so potent when I came in for the job, I'd assumed the gloves would be enough. I reached for another vial. Better some scars on my arm than to be tossed into the Waste.
Fifty.
“My hands are smaller, let me do it.”
Crap. “What are you doing here?” I hissed between my teeth, trying not to split my attention, and knowing I was failing.
“I want to help,” Bani whispered back. “Here, I can…” As he reached towards the opening, his foot caught the edge of the section of wall I’d removed.
The sheet of permasteel wobbled once, twice, and then fell with a clatter that could be heard for blocks. The shrill whir of the microcams changing direction, picking up speed, told me in no uncertain terms we’d been noticed.
I snatched my hand back from the opening. One last vial, no time to gently pack it. The long strap of the bag went over my head, and I grabbed Bani.
“I’m sorry…” he started.
“Just run,” was all I had time to say.
“You there, wait!” The heavy footfalls of the goons as they emerged from the shop punctuated the sound of the microcams.
The chase was on.
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. I’d been running through the streets and alleys of Ghelfi for over half my life. The hit of adrenaline, the intense focus on the next step, the next jump, left no room for any other worries.
In the alley behind the row of gambling dens that all paid tithe to Xavis, we could hear the murmur of winners and losers, a soft rush of voices that faded as we darted down another small passageway, twisting and turning. But still, the cams were on us. The goons didn’t need to be fast, just keep their tracking on.
The smell of fried noodles hit me; we were behind Artin’s place. He’d always looked the other way when I snagged leftover food from the trash as a kid. My stomach growled, heedless of the current crisis.
If we got out of this, if I survived the tithe, I’d treat Bani to a feast.
If.
Into the oldest section of Ghelfi city, alleys filled with broken parts not even worth the recycle bounty, snarled nests of wires cracking between buildings, dodging the dangling streamers, because you never knew what was still live and what could kill you.
“Kara,” Bani gasped from behind me. “I can’t keep up.” His voice broke, sobbing for air as we ran.
“Just a bit farther, I promise.” I hated promising. I hate lying and promises too often end up that way, at least in our world. But if we could just make it a few blocks further, we had a chance.
Legs aching, we sprinted across the street of the main bazaar, dodging the tramline filled with tourists and miners and gamblers and suckers that all thought that here, on the fringe of the Empire, they’d make their dreams come true.
“Through here,” I called over my shoulder, and darted between two dingy storefronts, back in the shelter of the alleys.
On the streets, it was too easy for a goon or a drone to take a shot. Needlers were illegal in the Empire, which meant everyone seemed to have at least a pair on Neurea as a badge of citizenship. Everyone except me. Needlers, pretty much all guns, made me queasy. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should re-evaluate that plan.
The back ways, left over from when the huge assembler machines had formed the basic structures of the city back in the day, zigged and zagged in a tangled pattern. Their creators probably thought it made perfect sense, but they were all long dead.
Finally, the maintenance shaft I’d been homing in on came within sight. My fingers laced in the grill, jerking it off as I skidded to a stop.
“Told you…” I was talking to the air. Bani was gone.
Rings. I needed to get away, get clear of the area and to Xavis and get shit straightened out. It wasn’t my fault the stupid kid tagged along. Hell, it was his fault we were running now.
Damn it.
I stashed the bag in the shaft. No point risking it, even if I was an idiot.
I headed back the way we’d come, slower this time. If Bani had just gotten lost, that would be one thing… but if he’d been caught, I didn’t feel like rushing my head into a noose.
“Get your hands off me, you jerk!” The yelling made a great beacon and a warning. I poked my head around the corner and pulled back right away. They’d caught him, the darker haired of the goons holding Bani’s thin frame pressed against the wall of the old water plant, seepage running out from under the wall, turning the dust underfoot to mud.
The kid kicked in his grip, but he’d need to weigh at least four times as much to make any difference. I risked another look, discarding options as fast as I came up with them. A crackle overhead caught my attention. Maybe….
Digging through the rubbish, I found a length of scrap wire. I pulled out my knife and started wrapping it.
It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all I had. I eased out from the corner and waved. Bani saw me, and I pointed overhead, then to the ledge of a boarded up window next to him. His eyes widened, but he nodded.
Then he bit the hell out of the arm of the goon holding him.
Bastard hadn’t expected that, and he dropped Bani. Instead of falling like a rock, Bani wiggled, twisting his body so he caught the edge of the windowsill with the tips of his fingers.
“Don’t fall, kid,” I muttered, and threw my knife into the tangle of wires overhead.
For a long moment, it looked like my gamble had failed. The knife tangled in the cluster above, the long wire I’d wrapped around the blade trailing into the damp dirt below. But nothing was happening. Then, with a shriek of metal on metal, the whole tangled mess tumbled down, catching the goons and the bots in their net.
Both thugs lay in the damp ground, twitching slightly. It didn’t look like the shock had been enough to kill them, even if the electronics were fried. One small knot untangled in my gut. I’d made it so far without killing anyone, at least that I knew about.
Movement on the wall caught my attention. Bani still clung there, pressed tight against the wall. I guess, if that was my choice today, I could live with it.
Bani worked his way hand over hand down the windowsill towards me and dropped to the ground, well clear of the danger zone. He looked up at me, grinning. "That was great."
I ran my hand through my hair and smothered the urge to shake him. "Belay that. The cams probably got our faces, probably sent them to the servers. The trouble isn't over."
My hand drifted to my side, fingers ghosting over the sheath. “And I’ve lost my favorite knife.”
His face fell. “Thanks for coming back for me,” he whispered.
I punched his arm. “Of course, idiot.” Maybe I should have hugged him. But that would ha
ve been weird for both of us.
He must have known what I meant, because he perked right back up, nearly skipping in circles around me as we headed back to the hiding place. “Did you get enough to make tithe? Maybe extra to sweeten Xavis back up? He’s only angry because he likes you, you know.”
At his age, the tithe would be pretty minimal. It was for most kids, made it easy to agree, trade a little of the take for protection, for food. For the semblance of a family, when you had no one else.
Xavis had always pushed me harder, said I had a talent for the game that would be a shame not to develop. Unfortunately, his idea of encouragement was to push, and push hard.
My tithes had always been twice the other kids’ in our band of castaways and orphans.
But still, it was better than starving.
I’d pulled eight vials out from the safe before Bani had shown up to ‘help.’ “It’ll be enough, maybe even a little left over as a buffer.” For all the chaos, even with having to push the timeline on the plan, it had worked. Xavis would forgive me being late with such a haul. The vise around my chest finally started to loosen. It was gonna be alright.
“After I check in, let’s go hit up old Artin’s place, get some station-style noodles?”
Bani nodded and started chattering about all the other fabulous treats in the street stands on the way. I half listened to him, half paid attention to the noise of the bazaar, the smells and sounds from all over the System. Things were going to work out. I could find a new long-term job, something that would really…
We turned the final corner back to the maintenance shaft and froze. Shock flipped a switch, filling my veins with fire.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Get away from that!”
A black-uniformed man hunched over my hiding place. The grill had been tossed into the alley and he crouched, head bowed down, peering into the shaft. He didn’t flinch. I reached for my knife and swore at the empty sheath.
Instead, I grabbed a cracked tile, discarded years ago, and flung it at the guy. A rushing noise filled my ears, drowning out the city, Bani, everything. I’d gone through way too much hassle to lose the haul to a scavenger like that.
Except this wasn’t like any scavenger I’d ever seen. Too neat, too clean. I would have thought he was military, if the Empire ever bothered to send anyone this far out.
The invader might have ignored my shouts, but the edge of the tile cracked against his shoulder. There was something wrong with his movements as the black form slowly rose and turned my way.
His face was covered by a dark helmet, but all my attention was focused on the satchel in his hand. My satchel. My vials. My only hope.
“Get away!” I shrieked and tore towards him. I might not have my knife, but you didn’t survive in Ghelfi City without learning a few things about a street fight. He might have been bigger than me, but I could count on desperation to lend me extra strength.
This day just wasn’t going to stop, was it? I had to have that satchel. I flung myself at the dark shape, snatching the loop of the bag as I went by.
My own momentum snapped me back. The black-uniformed presence didn’t move, didn’t speak. I rushed at him, hoping to knock him over, get him to loosen his grip on my satchel.
Nothing. He stood as immovable as the rocks outside in the Waste. I grabbed another tile, ignoring the sting of the sharp edge that cut my hands, and smashed my fist with its improvised blade against the black helmet.
Didn’t even scratch it. What the hell was this thing? I made another snatch at the satchel, pulling until the muscles in my arms screamed.
Suddenly, the motionless figure snapped. He twisted, shaking me like a toy at the end of the string, until one final flip sent me flying into the opposite wall. Someone dropped a pile of permasteel bricks on my head, and blackness took me.
Davien
The stink of fear and worry flashed through the room as Xavis pulled up a holo of the girl from his control chair. Nothing special to look at, shoulder length dark hair, copper skin, slight frame. The pose of the image looked wary, as if she were always braced for a blow.
“There’s not a height reference,” I muttered. “Would be helpful.”
Xavis flicked his eyes at me. Apparently, he still hadn’t figured out I wasn’t like the rest of his lackeys, too afraid to ask for the basic information needed to get the job done efficiently.
“You!” he snapped. “Monitor 27. Stand up and turn around.”
Silence fell across the hall as a woman rose, shaking, from one of the workstations on the left wall.
“She’s about the same height,” Xavis answered, but his eyes were on the holo.
Not a single keyboard click could be heard as I approached the woman. Her eyes darted from side to side, searching for an escape, help, anything. She wouldn’t find it here, in the depths of Xavis’ lair.
But I didn’t need to make this worse for her. “You and you,” I gestured to the men who had been working at stations on either side. “Stand up.”
They obeyed, and if they took the chance to step a little closer to the terrified woman, I didn’t think less of them for it. A futile effort, if I’d meant to attack her, but they fought against their fear.
And it made it easier to judge her height against theirs, giving me a better measurement for Kara.
“That’s enough,” I waved at them and turned my back.
I stalked out of the reception hall, conscious of the weight of all those eyes boring into me. It wasn't a matter for concern; it'd been clear for weeks that no one would challenge me.
Outside the hall, I eyed the lift tube. Xavis' reception hall was at the deepest level of his complex. It would be faster by far to take the tube to the surface level and then start my search for his missing thief.
But I hated the enclosed space, the stink of fear and despair soaked into the walls of the lift tube scraped my nerves raw every time I stepped inside.
Decision made, I pivoted and palmed open the panel that led to the stairwell. It shouldn't have taken much longer to walk up the stairs, except on every landing clusters of children huddled.
Too young still to be sent out to work, orphaned kids or the offspring of Xavis’ bound servants, they hid throughout the complex, keeping each other quiet.
As usual, I stepped around them quickly. One level up, and another, and halfway there. I fixed the image of Kara in my mind. Ghelfi City wasn’t large, but with the maze of old streets and rundown buildings, she could be anywhere. Xavis had given me a short list of her possible contacts, but, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind a nice long hunt.
A thin scream broke my musing, and I spun, back to the wall, eyes searching for the source of the sound. At the top of the next flight of stairs, a small child wavered unsteadily, outstretched arms flailing. A slightly older boy reached for her, but only brushed her fingertips as she fell backward, head aiming for the sharp edge of the steps below.
Dammit.
I leaped up the stairs, dodging the other children pressed against the wall. Just a second more… My left hand barely had room to slide between her dark curls and the ceramasteel before I tucked her against my torso and twisted, taking the impact on my side.
She squirmed in my arms, and I loosed my grip on her. Tiny, bones as fragile as a bird, sharp planes stood out on cheeks that should have been plump. No room for childhood here. Her eyes were wide as she pushed up, to sit straddling my chest.
“Can you catch me again?”
I blinked. It’s a point of pride for me to never be surprised, but that was unexpected.
“Well, if you fall again…” I started.
She leaned forward, reaching past my face to brush my hair back. “Your ears are pointy!” She started to play with the tip of my left ear when I carefully guided her arm away.
“It’s not polite to play with other people’s faces,” I growled.
A flash of blue-clad arms and her tiny frame was whisked away. “What are you doing here,” a low voice
snapped.
I stood up slowly, stretching to my full height, looking over the new actor on the scene. A young man, barely older than the kids clustered around him, stood on the landing above me. He passed the girl to another child behind him without breaking eye contact with me.
Points to him. Tougher than most of the adults in this town, if not necessarily brighter.
“Just keeping her head from cracking,” I answered, and started moving up the stairs, towards the crowd gathered at the landing. “And now I’m on my way.”
“It’s true, Hoyt,” one of the boys chimed in. “She fell, and he caught her.”
The young man, Hoyt, didn’t look convinced, but it didn’t really matter.
“You’re not wanted here,” he snarled.
“Cub, if you can keep me out, feel free.” I passed him on the landing and continued my climb. “Otherwise, I have things to do.” Halfway to the next landing, I glanced behind me to meet his glare. “And if you’re in charge, take better care of your wards.”
The curly haired moppet squirmed out from her keeper’s arms to wave at me. “Bye, mister!”
I waved back, and pulled my mind back to the hunt at hand. Part of me recoiled at the thought of how badly, how inefficiently the city was run. Thought about how thin the girl was, how thin and dirty they all were. The fear that ran through the town like a current.
Not my problem, I reminded myself. Get the girl, get the money, get a ship, find my brothers. The grounders would have to take care of themselves.
In the back of my mind, I could feel Doc's disapproving gaze.
Sure, she'd been a rogue mad scientist tampering with the very nature of life, but she was also an idealist. She wanted to build and experiment without someone looking over her shoulders, but she believed that unfettered science could create untold wealth for the masses of forgotten people in the Empire.
I'd never paid too much attention to her when she got on a political rant, but looking around as I emerged from Xavis' headquarters onto the street, I had to agree. It was ridiculous for the Empire to worry about what she was doing, when it couldn't even keep colony planets from turning into the outright property of crime lords, bosses, and gangs.
