Ghost Black

by Matthew S. Cox

  Kree hyperventilated, and muttered, “I gotta pee.”

  Risa hummed the music from Colony Commando, which seemed to distract her.

  A handful of gangers, Pantheon by their logo, emerged from the crumbling hollows of abandoned storefronts. One peculiarity of the gang took the form of a fondness for melee weapons. Broadswords, boarding party axes, and knives glinted in the yellow artificial light emanating from weak bulbs at the corners of the ceiling.

  “Oi, tasty little bit of crumpet walkin’ around,” said a bearded man on the right.

  Risa glared at a six-foot-and-change man with a long beard, a battered MDF helmet modified with Viking-like horns, and two rubber-handled axes. Tattered brown pants, old miner’s boots, and a piecemeal attempt at armor made from inch-thick squares of plastisteel zip-tied to a leather vest put an image in her brain she wouldn’t soon forget.

  Kree wailed, convulsing as if on the verge of throwing up.

  “It’s okay, Kree. They won’t hurt us,” whispered Risa. “None of them have speeware.”

  A tiny giggle slipped out between the child’s sniffles.

  The giant walked out in front of her.

  She strode up to within arm’s length and stared defiance up at him. “Get out of my way.”

  He chuckled. “This ain’t a safe place for a little woman to be walking alone.”

  “I was hoping to get through at least one day this week without having to kill someone.”

  A handful of men off to the right made patronizing ‘impressed’ faces, and gestured at her.

  “Cute kid,” said the tall man. “Come on.” He nodded in the direction she’d been walking. “I’m guessin’ you’re headin’ up?”

  Five other members of Pantheon walked up behind her, bearing an assortment of vibroblades, katanas, and nunchaku. One man carried a sword as long as her height.

  “There’s people behind us,” whispered Kree.

  “Not for much longer.” Risa glanced over her shoulder.

  “Easy.” The big man raised a hand. “We ain’t no threat to you or the little one. The shitheads at the other end of that street are another story.”

  The longer I wait, the worse her nightmares are gonna be. “Fine, but I’m more dangerous than I look.”

  “I know.” The Viking grinned. “Garrison said you’d be coming.”

  She gawked. “You could’ve said something!”

  “Aye.” He nodded. “I could’a. Havin’ a li’l fun.”

  Risa grumbled, but followed him. By the midway point between east and west, wild-eyed dosers crept out of alleys carved between stores. The Pantheon drew their weapons, resulting in a mile-long moving staredown. Fortunately, none of the hollering maniacs did more than make noise. Risa nodded at the men; though not at all used to being treated like a ‘girl in need of protection,’ given her current cargo, she didn’t mind as much.

  The stairway led up two levels to Tier 5, which for the most part, functioned as the demarcation point of civilization. Defense Force patrols occasionally set foot there. Something about the design of the metal-plated walls, the plasfilm posters, or the mixture of salty ramen scented air with body odor set Kree off again. She clamped on hard, whining and shivering.

  Risa walked at a quick, but determined pace, avoiding places she knew to be riskier and taking the ‘tourist path’ down the least grungy passages to a wide-open mall concourse in the center of the level. In the last segment of tunnel between the city and the shopping area, Kree stuck her thumb in her mouth and whimpered.

  I wonder if it happened here… “We’re almost out. It’s okay.”

  “Mmm,” whined Kree.

  Risa weaved among a crowd of citizens drifting from store to store, avoiding two beggars and one idiot rambling on about the End Times. Twenty meters from the primary elevator bank, a large column ringed with holo-panels blared with NewsNet feeds discussing politics, the conflict with the Corporates, and a handful of adverts for everything from colony jobs to the latest, greatest food reassembler, to custom ‘fully-living’ penis replacements.

  She shivered at the voice of Moht Daran rambling on about the ‘eerie lull’ in activity on the part of the Martian Liberation Front. He seemed worried that nothing had blown up recently, and took that to mean they planned something big. The old guy with crazy white hair in the next frame raised the possibility that the MLF had been responsible for the Bliss disaster. Of course, no one believed him. Too deep in ACC territory. Too high profile. Much to her amusement, the NewsNet pundits all embraced the notion that the explosion came as a result of ACC error, who then tried to blame the MLF so they didn’t look foolish. In a roundabout sort of way, the disaster had been their fault. Risa had only wanted to sever communication lines. Whatever idiot approved putting a Cryomil line across the Strand (and doing it as cheaply as possible) bore the guilt.

  A lump slid down her throat as she darted into an opening elevator. Fourteen other people shuffled in after, pushing her back to the wall. Kree stilled, staring out from beneath a veil of her hair at the people all with their backs turned. Being behind everyone in an enclosed space seemed to calm the child, and she squirmed, seeking a more comfortable position on Risa’s hip.

  Six agonizing minutes later, the elevator opened on Tier 1. The sight of the mall full of people sent Kree into a near panic, and Risa kept a hand on the back of her head to hold her close as she headed straight for the shuttleport. Once inside the terminal building, Kree’s fear fell off like an abandoned coat.

  “I gotta pee.”

  Risa set the girl on her feet and crouched to eye level. “I am sorry for scaring you, but I did it so you will stay safe. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

  Kree looked around while wiping her face, then nodded. “It’s not scary here.”

  She took Kree to the nearest restroom, using her headware to book tickets for a shuttle flight to Arcadia while the kid ducked into a stall. On the way to the waiting area, Kree eyeballed a snack counter selling cinnamon sugar hot pretzels. The smell was rather appealing, though the Ͼ60 price tag on the non-OmniSoy snack made her wince. I should treat her for being a good sport.

  “Hmm. Looks like someone wants a pretzel?”

  Kree returned a rapid nod and a grin. “Yes, please.”

  Risa bought two. In the waiting area, they sat on blue-cushioned seats, square pads mounted to a forty-meter metal bar, munching. Kree seemed to have climbed out from under her terror, and gazed around at the massive room with the two-story ceiling, swinging her feet. She looked straight up, gaping-mouthed, as a shuttle passed over the geodesic dome window, a rumble of ion thrusters shaking the entire facility. Once it passed, Kree nibbled on the pretzel while watching people in civilian clothes. The child appeared to have little fear of anyone who didn’t resemble a ganger. Wound up on sugar, nerves, and the aftereffect of terror, Kree kept shifting position between letting her feet dangle and sway to tucking them up and sitting on her moon boots.

  Risa forced herself to peel her gaze away from the little smiling face beside her every few seconds to watch for threats. Four Mars Defense Force officers in full armor walked in formation across the center of the huge waiting area, in a constant state of observing everyone, but they paid Risa little mind. With her natural eyes and a little girl leaning against her, she had to look like any normal young mother.

  I’m being paranoid. No gangs would dare do anything in a shuttleport. She surveyed the entrance, other people sitting on the long benches, and a small crowd by an assistance counter. As soon as I relax, something will happen.

  Eleven minutes later, her NetMini pinged, and she led Kree by the hand to the boarding area to take their place in line. A couple of other children waiting to board glanced at her. One smiled, two gave her blank looks, and one boy younger than Kree responded to her gaze with a raspberry. None of them screamed or cried at the sight of her.

  As wonderful as it felt not to be terrorizing small children with inhuman metal eyes, Risa couldn�
��t help but keep looking over her shoulder. Everett, Raziel, Shiro, or who knows what might be waiting behind any shadow to steal her happiness yet again. The line edged forward person by person, each body accompanied by a soft ping from a wall panel as NetMini’s scanned them in. Kree leaned to the right, her weight hanging by Risa’s grip of her hand, so she could keep looking at workers and crew vehicles moving around on the false window displaying the tarmac on the surface.

  They followed the flow of people into the shuttle and found their seats. Kree busied herself with a cheesy side-scrolling video game on the datapad tethered to the seat in front of her. Risa leaned back, watching her play. She let out a relieved breath and entertained the hope that maybe their exodus from the underbelly of Primus wouldn’t leave permanent mental scars. Kree’s lack of a complete freak-out didn’t necessarily mean she handled it well. All too well, Risa knew that a child could become too terrified to make a sound. Still, the girl’s present state of calm-normal reassured her.

  Garrison’s got friends in Pantheon… Never would’ve thought.

  Kree scrambled across the seats to the window, but soon got bored with the tarmac and occupied herself with a gaming tablet attached to the back of the seat in front of her. A while later when the shuttle lifted off, she lost interest in the game and stared out the window. There, the child’s attention remained for forty-one minutes, until the shuttle touched down at Arcadia Starport. Once the ‘stay seated’ light went out, Risa guided her along to the door and onto a moving sidewalk that brought them from the shuttle platform along a transparent tube to the baggage claim. Having nothing to pick up, she kept a firm grip on Kree’s hand and headed across the concourse toward the escalators to street level.

  Kree swayed in a perpetual state of turning and gazing at everything, mouth open. Several times, she went to dart off, but Risa held her back. A thousand ‘what’s that’ questions later, they emerged from the building into the fresh air of a surface city. The child stared in wonder at two rows of living, green trees planted in strips between the shuttleport courtyard and the street… and started crying.

  “Kree?” Risa dropped to a knee and grasped the girl’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  Kree sniveled for a moment before pointing at the trees and wailing, “They’re pretty.”

  Risa tried to suppress the urge to laugh, and spent a few minutes explaining trees. She felt a bit foolish, as less than a month ago, she understood a tree to be a plastic thing covered in decorations that people set up once a year. She hadn’t the first idea that these giant plants in front of her were ‘trees,’ or that the holiday decoration had been based on another type of tree, an actual plant. The strange things people read about when they’re bored. Risa picked Kree up and carried her to the nearest tree.

  “This is nice.” Kree touched a leaf. “I like sky.”

  Risa ruffled her hair. “I’m glad you’re happy. I was afraid you’d be frightened.”

  Kree bit her lower lip. “I don’t like the tunnel streets. That’s where the bad men hide. Outside outside is okay.”

  This might actually work. I wonder if Pavo will move here. He can get a transfer I bet. She frowned inside at the thought of his apartment. Kree wouldn’t care that the whole district is full of Defense Force officers, the subterranean section under Primus was a classic example of the environment she feared most. Now, more than ever, she wanted to forget the MLF and all the dustblow that came with it.

  Raziel, please let me be happy.

  She paged a PubTran, fed it the address to the apartment Garrison mentioned, and leaned back. Kree crawled to the front of the little car to press herself to the windshield, still gazing around awestruck at a place with open sky. The ride came to an abrupt halt sixteen minutes later when the car pulled over to the side of the road in an area lined with bars and restaurants. Rapid braking bounced the child off the windshield and she landed on the floor.

  Kree rolled up onto all fours, wide-eyed. “I didn’t touch anything!”

  “What happened?” Risa reached out an arm.

  Kree climbed into a hug and whined, “I dunno.”

  “I’m asking the car.” Risa patted her on the head. “Shh. It’s okay. PubTran, what happened?”

  “PubTran Corporation apologizes for the delay. There has been an unscheduled violence event in your trip route. You will not be charged for this delay.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “PubTran Corporation is unable to provide an answer to your question due to privacy considerations.”

  Shit. This thing’s been hacked. She accessed the Arcadia City net and checked their position. They’d come to a dead stop one-point-two miles away from the apartment. It sat within a cluster of glittering skyscrapers visible from here. “End trip. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  “PubTran Corporation cannot be held liable for injury or death due to a trip abort.”

  Risa grumbled. “Why would aborting the trip cause injury?”

  “PubTran Corporation cannot provide details due to privacy considerations. If you would still like to end your trip at this point, your fare will be adjusted down by Ͼ11. Please acknowledge that you release PubTran Corporation of liability.”

  She spun in the seat, looking for people heading toward the car. Not seeing anyone only made her more nervous. “I accept.”

  The door opened. Risa hopped out onto the sidewalk, holding the girl’s hand.

  “Why did the car break?” Kree looked up, blinked, and pulled her hair away from her eyes. “Is someone gonna fix it?”

  “It’s not broken, just being annoying.” Risa tried to seem confident.

  One block forward, she turned right at a corner and skidded to a halt. Eight MDF cars formed a horseshoe around the front of a restaurant with blasted-out windows. A few steps from the wall, a man with a full-body cybernetic conversion held a pair of armored officers aloft by one hand each. Every inch of him gleamed in shiny plastisteel, a combination of armor plates, grey Myofiber muscle bundles and metal parts with a hint of human skeleton to their design. He may or may not have still had a live brain inside.

  Both of his eyes glowed red, save for a gold ‘O’ of an iris. Most of his shirt had been chewed off by laser fire; what fabric remained on his shoulders still burned. His chest gleamed in the sun, a darker shade of plastisteel than his arms and legs, dotted by spots from where it had laughed off shots from the officers.

  Orange energy smears connected from various MDF pistols to his chest every few seconds, but the lasers only diffused into char marks. The man frothed at the mouth, screaming incoherent non-words. Exposed hydraulic actuators clung to the underside of his upper arms, a crude and cheap means of providing superhuman strength. Segmented metal hoses emerged from the back of his neck, connecting to the midpoint of his back, vibrating with the flow of fluid.

  Well damn. Guess the car didn’t get hacked after all…

  Kree screamed.

  Where does a cyberganger get energy-resistant plating? She squinted. He’s gotta be brain-fried private security or something.

  The psychotic aug hurled the female officer across the street. The crimson-armored figure struck the third story of an office tower and fell limp into a large cluster of bushes. Continued laser fire appeared to annoy the aug like a swarm of mosquitos. He held the male officer in front of himself as a shield, causing the MDF officers in the police line to stop shooting.

  Risa yanked Kree off her feet and sprinted for the nearest MDF car, carrying her. Two officers, both women, noticed her approach and pointed their weapons at her.

  “Halt!” yelled one.

  “Get back! This is a Defense Force incident area.”

  Risa raised the hand not supporting Kree. “You don’t have the hardware to crack that nut.”

  “Lady, get the hell out of here with that kid.” The taller officer grabbed Risa by the left bicep. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

  “Kree, stay with these officers. Keep your he
ad down.”

  “‘Kay.”

  “You nuts? You can’t drop off an unwanted kid with us right now.” The shorter woman lowered her weapon, no longer regarding her as a threat.

  “She is not unwanted.” Risa scowled. “Just keep her safe for a few minutes while I give you guys a little assistance.”

  The crazy cyborg raised the male officer over his head, looking about to smash him into the ground.

  Risa shrugged out of the cop’s grip and sprinted around the car, not bothering to draw her pistols. The aug looked at her, flashed a manic grin, and tossed the unconscious cop to the side like an overgrown boy done with an old toy after finding a new one.

  MDF officers shouted, telling her to get back. A few called her a crazy bitch.

  At fifteen feet, Risa kicked on her speedware, shoving the Japanese electronics to the edge of their performance envelope. The cyborg’s already slow movements ground to a standstill. Her tactical processor couldn’t pinpoint weak spots as effectively without the metallurgical scan mode, but did its best working from visual data it lifted from her brain. Flickering amber octagons appeared over his joints, the hoses, and the only skin left on him anywhere―the area around his nose and mouth. A flashing yellow octagon appeared over a discolored panel an inch below and left of his sternum.

  His near-motionlessness ended with a punch that moved at the pace of a lazy wave. She leaned to the left, sprouted claws, and raked at the exposed hydraulics on the back of his arm. In the six seconds relative to her sped-up perception it took him to recover from throwing car-smashing force into a punch, she slipped around behind him, sliced all the cables on his back, and savaged the hydraulic cylinder on his other arm.

  The man stumbled about to face her again; dark-green translucent fluid spurting from the severed hoses sprayed on the wall. A leak would shut down his crude mechanical muscles in about five minutes―not fast enough. She wondered what sort of components he’d had crammed inside his body to make him run those lines on the outside. Then again, Nano blades weren’t the sort of weapon a street aug expected to run into. This guy’s armor would’ve laughed off metal claws. Dancing with this nutcase made her understand why some people carried swords. Claws forced her to get too close to a monster capable of killing her in a single punch.