Halcyon's Hero (Atramento Book 1)

by Nix Whittaker

  Harold frowned, confused by her teasing. Sidestepping him, she jogged up to the gate. She pushed past the others to get to the pinpad. They had seen her and stared at Harold to see if they should continue. He gave them a silent command and they put the ram down. Hal opened the security panel on the side of the gate. Tapping in the codes, she stepped back to allow the Enforcers access. The gate slid open with a buzzing sound.

  Harold stood next to her and Misha as well. Misha had insisted on walking her home in case the men attacked her again. She asked Harold, “Is there anything, in particular, you’re looking for?”

  He glared at her. “We had a tip that there was contraband here.”

  She thought the frown was a habitual expression rather than a reflection of what he was feeling as his EMF was completely contrary to his tone. His aura was tight against his body and swirled in positive tones or blues and greens.

  She snorted at the idea of contraband at her place. The government had to know something existed before it could make laws against it. Most of her things were outside the realm of laws just because they were so new.

  “You really shouldn’t listen to those with big mouths. They only tell you what will gain them something. I don’t have drugs, but I do have some pretty cool gadgets. They wanted you to break in so they could break in later to get what they wanted.”

  This smelt like something Marcus would do. He liked to use other people. If she were just a little later, they would have smashed through her gate and it would have taken a whole day to fix it, at least. He could have easily sent someone in to poke around while her defences were down.

  “So, no contraband.” Harold tucked his hands back into his pockets.

  Hal waved a hand to indicate that he was welcome to enter her workshop and warehouse. She had nothing to hide. She was scrupulous to keep within the law whenever she could. Sometimes she had some questionable machines, but at the moment they were all completely mundane.

  “I have a license for the gadgets and there aren’t any drugs. Never needed the stuff. Oh, there is some prescription stuff, they’re all labelled with the name of the doctor who prescribed it. I’m in remission.”

  She self-consciously ran a hand through her hair. It was a long time since she had gone through chemotherapy. It was not something easily forgotten though. She was cured, but she would not explain that she had used her atramento to cure herself of cancer.

  Following the Enforcers into the compound, she headed straight to the plasma gun. She shouldn’t have ever made it. It was sitting in one of the shops she used as lockup storage. It used to be a dry cleaner for work clothes. Harold and Misha followed her as she meandered her way through the piles of junk. They were considerably smaller since Misha organised them.

  Misha lightly touched her elbow as she moved, showing everyone there that they were a couple.

  She knew why he did it. They treated girls here as if they were weak. He still let her take the lead though and she appreciated the thought. No guy had bothered before to look out for her like that. Worried she would do something wrong so things would get uncomfortable. She always ended up doing something awkward and things just fizzled. Not that she really had any real experience.

  Hopefully, because he was only acting, he would cover whenever she made a mistake.

  She asked Harold, waving to the plasma gun. It was really a tool and looked like a supped up nail gun. A tube ran from it to the backpack where the fuel for the gun resided. The casing was made of different colours as this was a prototype and she had cannibalised several tools to make it. The rest were all printed on the 3D printer she had in the back of the warehouse. “Are you going to confiscate this?”

  He glared at the gun. “Does it have anything to do with contraband?”

  “Not even in the slightest. It’s a construction tool. It’s on the limited list, I have a license for it.”

  She placed it on the counter of the dry cleaners instead of putting it back in the case she kept it in. There was a convenient box of tools next to it. They weren’t her own. They had probably been part of the stuff taken out of the warehouse and workshop areas. Most of the tools were coated in a thin layer of rust, but otherwise still serviceable.

  Harold’s men searched the courtyard with flashlights that drew lines of light over the machines.

  “No, we will not be taking that.”

  He looked around the screeds of stuff she had. She wasn’t shocked that he didn’t want it.

  She shrugged and while he was distracted by looking around; she picked up a hammer and smashed the plasma gun. Harold jerked back at the sudden violence. He swore and grabbed the hammer from her, but the gun was already in tiny pieces.

  It was safer this way. She didn’t need the gun. There were some things that should never have been built.

  “Are you crazy?” growled Harold. She shrugged; she had achieved her goal. Marcus would not get the plasma gun, ever.

  “Some days I wonder.” She turned to grin at him. For a State Enforcer, he wasn’t too bad. He hadn’t shot her when she had gone for the hammer. His EM field rippled interestingly. This was a man of many depths.

  ___

  The Enforcers had left a mess. Misha wasn’t so sure they searched for drugs or contraband. He knew the city didn’t usually send State Enforcers to deal with drugs. They were probably looking for weapons. Halcyon puttered around and moved things back to where they belonged. He saw a book she put aside and picked it up. It was a handwritten version of the symbols she had tattooed on his chest. There were notes next to them saying what they meant and how they worked.

  He flicked through and asked, “How did you figure these out?”

  She tapped her temple. “I’m good with machines and I thought it would be a good idea to have eyes that can see a little bit more. When I figured that there were fields generated by the body and that things can interact with it, I started experimenting. The atramento aren’t new though.”

  “They aren’t?” He flipped open to a page with a symbol beautiful illuminated in the style of renaissance monks.

  She shook her head.

  “Our genes have mutated for a long time. I believe there were things we used to be able to do naturally, which we’ve lost. Language was like that. Most thought there wasn’t a written language before the Egyptians and stuff. There was. Just that they wrote it on a paper-like substance and it never lasted. The atramento are more like hieratic than hieroglyphs. They come from several cultures. I’ve been collecting them, but I haven’t been able to test most of the body atramento. I’ve been playing more with the ones that interact at an atomic level.”

  “Wait, atomic? Like an atom bomb?” He clapped the book shut with this revelation.

  “I mean at the really small level. Changing how the materials act without actually changing what they are.”

  She shoved some things back into a drawer. “I once made a bomb when I was bored and then took it apart again.”

  She must not have seen his look as she continued on in her casual tone. “Well, most of it. What’s left runs this place. Amazing what you can do with some Heavy Water lying around.”

  She motioned to the book.

  “You can look through that to see what other atramento you want.”

  He glanced up from the book. “You’ll do another one for me?”

  She said, “Just call yourself a guinea pig.”

  He chuckled. “Sure.”

  Tucking the book under his arm, he followed her as she picked up the drawers the agents had pulled out.

  “Are you going to tell me what that thing was you smashed to smithereens?”

  “Ah, I wondered if you would ask.”

  She passed him something else and gestured for him to put it on top of a shelf.

  “About a year ago I was working on a project with a builder. He had this really cool plasma torch he used to cut through steel re-bar. I thought wouldn’t it be cool if he had something smaller than what he had and he cou
ld use it in difficult to reach areas. That was why he had the torch in the first place. Usually you just bring in the big machinery and crush the concrete and separate the metal out after everything is pretty much dust. This builder was working on buildings right next to heritage buildings. No heavy machinery allowed. Well, I made it and I showed it to some of them. That builder guy said I was crazy and tried to get me arrested. So I put it aside.”

  Misha took the other things she passed him and placed them in the hard to reach areas she would normally need a step-ladder to reach.

  “You built a weapon?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. It was naïve.”

  ___

  Hal muttered as she tried to put things right. The Enforcers hadn’t been very tidy in their search. She sighed over her research papers. They were handwritten from when she hid it from her parents. That was like a whole lifetime ago and now everything was in the cloud and she had multiple tools to access it.

  She pushed the papers into a folder and thought she really should file them away better. Maybe she could get Misha to do it. She glanced at one of the monitors as it was trained on him. He picked up things in the warehouse. The other warehouse was her living quarters and a research lab. She was glad she didn’t have to tell him not to clean up in there. Her space was personal.

  He wore a black t-shirt and cargo pants cut off at the knee. She realised after a while she had watched him for a long time. She shook her head and went back to work. She didn’t have time for daydreaming.

  “Here, I want this one.”

  She looked up from her work. Misha placed the book of atramento down in front of her.

  She traced the outline. “Senses. An interesting choice.”

  “Have you used it before?” It was an elegant atramento.

  “No, not many people are able to have the atramento.” So far, the pool only included two people.

  He was silent and she glanced up to see why. He said, “Why didn’t you give a tattoo to Waha?”

  “Who?” They wandered over to the area with the gear for the tattoos.

  She set out her things and her mind already on the tattoo.

  “Waha, the guy that brought me here.”

  He watched her as she worked.

  “Oh, him. Well, he’s an undercover cop and his EMF is all over the place. You, on the other hand, know who you are and what you want. This makes for a calm EMF and it means you can take the atramento.”

  “An undercover cop? Are you sure? I’ve known him for years.”

  He looked flummoxed by her revelation.

  “Mmm. I’m pretty sure. Now, take off your shirt and lie face down. This one will go on the back of your neck,” Hal said.

  She smoothed her hand over the nape of his neck, sending shivers through his body. She rubbed her hands together to warm them up and then returned her hand to his skin.

  “How do you know where they’re supposed to go?”

  “Your EMF of course. If you want something mythical, I can tell you I’m highly influenced by chi and other Chinese teachings. But the truth is something of a mixture of both science and magic. Now shush, I have to work.”

  He settled in as she transferred the image to his neck. For someone who didn’t want any tattoos because they reminded him of the gangs, he was sure taking to this like a penguin to snow.

  ___

  “Done, you can get up now.”

  Misha trembled as he left the chair. This atramento had more of a sudden reaction than the strength one had. Everything felt different. He could feel the air go into his lungs and the way the cloth of his shirt felt as he put it back on.

  Halcyon skipped away from her tools. “How is it?”

  He ran a hand over his face and it set off all sorts of things in his brain. Holding out a hand towards her he took a couple of deep breaths.

  “Is it too much?” she asked.

  “Let’s see.” His voice was deeper than usual.

  He wanted to pull her against him and kiss her, to have the full effect of his senses tingling. Pushing away from the chair, he went to his knees. Just breathing sent shivers of pleasure through him as he was super aware of his skin.

  Concerned, she asked, “You all right?”

  “Yeah, better than all right.” His tone betrayed him as it was hoarse with arousal.

  “Oh, Oh! I’m sorry.” She blushed.

  “Don’t be.”

  Rising to his feet with some effort. As he walked past her, he ran his hand across the back of her neck. The touch made him shudder with pleasure. Yeah, he had picked the right atramento. She didn’t pull away at the touch, the look in her eyes said more. She stared at him as he walked away. Not yet, but she was interested.

  ___

  Misha studied the kids in his class as they went through the Kata’s he taught them. There was a mixture of age and gender, but they all had the one thing in common. They came from harsh and broken homes.

  He frowned. Someone was missing. The boys who had recently been added to his class were in a line at the back of the class and realised Jacob was missing. Ari was there and he had separated himself a little from everyone else, which was telling. Henry hadn’t hired Misha because he knew martial arts, he had hired him because he knew when to push at something that didn’t seem right. Like a bartender at a bar, he was supposed to play many roles with the kids.

  Misha went over to Ari, who stalwartly ignored him and continued on with the katas.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  The boy shrugged and punched the air with a little more force than was needed. There was a stubborn look on his face, though his eyes were sad. Misha knew that look. It was when someone in your life did something that put them at risk. He pushed a little more.

  “Ari?” The boy stopped and turned to him. His shoulders set and his mouth a thin line. It was clear he didn’t want to talk. Some other children had stopped as well and were listening. Misha waved for them to continue. He pulled Ari a little distance from the others so he could talk to him without the others overhearing.

  Ari’s shoulders slumped and he stared at the ground as he gritted out, “He was supposed to be here, but he met some boys on the way and made me go on my own.”

  Misha frowned, there was more to this story than what Ari was telling him. Not unusual for boys his age. Still, he pushed. “Boys? Who were they?”

  Ari huffed; anger replaced whatever else he felt a second ago. He glared at Misha. His eyes like hard chips of stone, “Just some boys. They hang out outside this club and they told Jacob they had some Ambrosia for him.”

  Misha went cold. He had heard about the new drug out on the market. Most of the people addicted to it only needed the one dose to get hooked and it took the user away to some La-la land for days. If Jacob played with that stuff it wasn’t a good thing. It also explained Ari’s complicated emotions.

  Misha placed a hand on Ari’s shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you came here.” He smiled and joked to break the tension, “your brother will envy you when you can take him down.”

  Ari smiled back, but it was a weak imitation of his usual smile. Misha gestured for him to join the others and patted Ari’s shoulder as he passed by. There wasn’t much he could do for the boy when his brother tried his best to kill himself. There wasn’t much anyone could do with people who went down that particular destructive spiral.

  Misha knew, he was dragged in once when he was a teenager and his girlfriend had turned to drugs to sort out the problems in her life.

  ___

  There was only one person Hal knew who wanted the Plasma gun and would also mistake it for a laser. Also, ruthless enough to send thugs after her and heartless enough to want to use it as a weapon rather than as the construction tool she designed it for.

  Hal had talked to a couple of builders a few months back and they talked about how tricky it was to get rid of the buildings destroyed during the wars. Some were bunkers and made from solid concrete and sometimes even soli
d steel. She had told them about her plasma gun that could melt through things like super glue through Styrofoam.

  She hadn’t realised until later one man wasn’t a construction worker at all. Instead, he was funding the build with drug money.

  He had flattered her when they spoke and said he had seen some of her work. She never did find out what gadget he had managed to get his hands on. Maybe she should go over her list of gadgets she had sold and trace where they had gone. Unfortunately, she was prolific and that would take months. With no guarantee, she would discover what he had procured.

  Marcus had a few places he hung out. She had already tried the gym and his spa. The last place was his club.

  Hal pushed open the door of the club. Sound blasted her with barely a crack of the door open. Dancers crowded the floor and writhed against each other in numb attention to the drone of the music. She did not see the appeal of dressing in clothes too skimpy to go outside, as it was starting to get cold at night, and then gyrate against each other. The music was jarring and gave her an instant headache. She couldn’t understand how Marcus could spend whole evenings in this place.

  Hal didn’t look at the other club-goers who looked her up and down appreciatively. She was amused that both genders checked her out. She wasn’t dressed for a place like this, but she wanted to stand out. She still wore the white t-shirt and overalls she wore while she had worked on an elevator shaft brake system this morning.

  A man appeared like an apparition in front of her. Motioning for her to follow him. He was dressed in a suit and stood stiffly. A wire at his ear indicated he was security. He led her into the back rooms. It was much quieter back there. This must be where they needed some volume control so they could actually do business.

  They led Hal into a white room. A ridiculous thing to keep clean. Marcus lounged on one of the couches with a woman. She was half-naked and quite ravishing. That wasn’t so astonishing. Marcus always had an eye for beauty. Though white and impractical, the room was opulent. It was plush with lavish furniture that seemed more like it came from Madame Pompadour’s boudoir than anything seen in a club.