“Then here are the instructions for using it. It’s for finding out what stuff is made out of. I made a couple of these a few years ago. One was for a guy who used it to figure out the secret ingredients in his competitor’s recipes. I can give you his name. Technically, he is guilty of business espionage, though, since this isn’t a restricted item and I can honestly say he used it to find out what he was eating I’m not liable. The other one was for a school. For their science department. They couldn’t afford the big equipment you guys have, but they wanted to give their students a chance to be like the big guys.”
She wrote the details down at the bottom of the instructions. She wasn’t sure of the names, but she had remembered their State ID’s. She flicked a hand at the picture of the spectrometer.
“Is this what you were looking for the other day?”
Harold studied her carefully and countered with his own question, “Is that what the men tried to get from you?”
Hal said, “They wanted that gadget I smashed the other day. It was a building tool that basically can cut anything like butter.”
His eyes were steely. “Anything else at your compound we should know about?”
She said, “Oh, plenty, but I’m not sure what you would be interested in.”
He said, his teeth gritted. “Now is the million-dollar question, Miss Smith. How did two people take down two dozen heavily armed and armoured men with no weapons?”
She smiled as she was amazed it had taken him this long to get to their evening’s events. “Now, that is going to be my secret. I should tell you Misha is a trained fighter.”
They obviously didn’t care about her interactions with Marcus’ goons, otherwise, they would have asked about that first. She wished Misha could see her and how well she could read Harold. It would impress him.
“Yes, we have a record of his father, though very little on him.”
She said, “Misha might be part of the neighbourhood, but he is a good man. You won’t find anything shady in his file, but don’t take my word for it. You have one of your men undercover amongst the gangs. He used Misha to get a cred amongst the gangs because Misha grew up with many of the gang members. They trust Misha, but he isn’t part of them. I don’t remember what name he went by. Ask Misha he knows him better than I do, I only ever saw him the once.”
“We were told of this undercover agent and we’re very surprised you knew he was undercover.”
Harold motioned to the window and the door opened. Misha’s friend came in. He was cleaned up and she could see the police markers that made him like the other Enforcers. He leaned against the wall in a deceptively casual manner.
“Did Misha tell you about the undercover agent?”
She said, “I have enhancements, bioware.”
She tapped her eyes. She assumed when they had processed her; they had picked that up.
“I saw your EMF fields and made some guesses. I sent you off to Carlos, didn’t I? Did you find the surprise?”
Harold turned to him and Misha’s friend sighed. “We managed to round up an arms smuggling ring. I’m still not sure how you knew about that.”
She shrugged; she had discovered their activities when she researched the business owners after one of them had asked too innocently for some of her machines. Her own activities were completely illegal, but she knew the ends justified the means in this case.
“I hear things. People don’t really notice me.”
She stared at the picture of her gadget. She put together all the bits of clues the Enforcers had given her. “A drug dealer got hold of it, didn’t they? That’s why you were looking for contraband at my place. What mess did they make?”
The two men exchanged some significant looks before Waha asked, “Have you heard of Ambrosia?”
“Yeah, that’s the drug Marcus is selling. Wait, he was always into my gadgets. Was it one of his labs you raided? He won’t be pleased you have that. You can’t think I have anything to do with it though.”
Harold drawled, “Marcus sent a lot of his top goons to take you out. We have to think there’s some history between you two. Did a partnership go wrong?”
Hal jerked with astonishment at the insinuation. “Wait, no way. I don’t do drugs and I don’t sell them, ever. I make machines. I try to make machines that help people and I regulate who gets them, but if those people sell them or they are stolen, there isn’t much I can do, besides make them very hard to figure out on your own. Someone sold this to Marcus. Otherwise, he would have no idea how to work it. Let alone use it to create a new drug.”
Again, the two men gave each other a telling look. Then Harold said, “Well, you are free to go.”
___
Misha waited for her outside the building, leaning against the faux marble column. Hal glanced behind her to the large windows of the Enforcer building. She felt a shiver down her back and she knew they were still watching. When she was close enough to him, he reached out and lightly touched her cheek.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” His voice gentle.
“What? The State Enforcers? No, Harold is a pussycat.”
His eyes darkened. “I meant Marcus’ goons.”
Her voice went soft with surprise. “Oh, no. No, well, one of them did shoot me.”
Hal peeled back her shirt to show him it was already healed. He pressed his palm over the thin thread of the scar. She liked the feel of his big hands on her skin. Would he be offended if she asked him to do that more often?
She chewed on her lip. They flirted, though she still wasn’t quite sure what they were.
Hal let go of the shirt and tugged on his arm. “We need to get back to the workshop and fix up the gates. It has probably been looted already.”
He shook his head and put his arm around her shoulders. “I called in a few friends and they are watching the place.”
She grinned and snuggled against his side. “Oh, did the State Enforcers give you your one phone call?”
He snorted; he wasn’t sure why people assumed they were allowed one phone call when you were arrested. He had this discussion with his father when he was younger and was adamant it wasn’t fair. Eventually, his father had shown him the City charter and there was no mention there of people’s right for a phone call when they were arrested.
“No, I just managed to keep my phone.”
She wrinkled her nose. “They had me handcuffed, so I couldn’t use my phone.”
Not that she had thought of calling anyone. Misha was the first person she had really let into her life.
He tugged on a strand of her hair and asked, “What did you do that you ended up in cuffs?”
She shrugged her shoulders. Maybe she shouldn’t have mouthed off at the Enforcers in the car. She had been riding on adrenaline and she would quite happily use that for an excuse.
Hal tugged his hand around her shoulders. She stumbled, as she subconsciously tried to keep up with him, he obliged by walking slower. He was massive compared to her short and compact figure, but he somehow made her feel delicate. He pressed his cheek against her hair.
“I hope we never have to go through that again.”
She made some non-committal sound as she enjoyed just being with him.
Hal asked nervously as she realised with this showdown, he might think they had sent Marcus a suitable message and he would back off. “Are you moving out?”
“Why? Do you want me to?” His voice was warm like honey.
“No.”
Hal hoped he didn’t hear how quickly she had spoken.
“I’ll stay then.”
Warmth filled her like someone had poured warm wax through her and she was a mould.
Chapter Six
Whatinga: May 2086
Hal placed the box on the counter and smiled at the man behind it. He glared at her. He wore a black suit like it was a uniform. She wondered if every Enforcer had a closet full of black suits.
“Can I talk to Harold?”
The Enforcer glowered at her, then finally picked up the phone. She took a seat on one of the chairs, she assumed was uncomfortable on purpose, and swung her feet as she waited for Harold.
It didn’t take long for the Enforcer to arrive. He glared at her and she smiled.
“I have a gift for you.”
Hopping up she offered him the box.
He waved for her to follow; except guards stopped her. The box beeped under the metal detectors. Lifting one corner of the box he peered inside, but the shadows hid what was inside. He motioned to the things in the box.
“What the heck is this?”
The Enforcer took the box from her and gestured for her to stand with her arms away from her body. She complied easily.
“Well, I kinda felt bad that one of my thingamajigs was being used by the bad guys, so I thought I’d bring you something to even the playing field.”
The guards patted her down to see if she carried a weapon.
“We have the thingamajig now Miss Smith and according to you they wouldn’t be able to replicate it.”
The guards finished and gave a nod to Harold.
“They have the recipe already so I thought this could make it better.”
She motioned to the box to indicate what she was talking about. He exhaled loudly and waved to the guards to let her through. He took her to his office, which was crowded amongst others. With glass walls, it really wasn’t very private.
She left the box on his table, which she noticed was scrupulously clean and ordered.
She flicked a hand towards the box. “I wrote some instructions in there for how to use them.”
He took one of them. It was round to fit in the palm better with an L.C.D readout. There were about a dozen in the box. They were simple to make. As she had laid awake the night before thinking about her spectrometer and how she actually could make it so much better now.
Then, she had thought of making something which could read just one thing and that had led to her making these things. She thought she might have gone too far.
“What is it?”
She quickly demonstrated how it worked.
“It’s a kind of sniffer. It can find ambrosia for you. It doesn’t have a great range, less than a hundred meters, but it should allow you guys to find Marcus’ drugs.”
He stared at it for a long time. “Does it have a name?”
She wrinkled her nose as she thought. “I’m not so good at naming things. I call it George. I knew him in school and he had this massive nose. Seriously, you can name it what you like. There isn’t anything else like it out there.”
He nodded to placate her. “Our scientists were pleased with the other gadget. Especially when they knew how it worked.”
She grinned warmed by the secondhand praise from others in her field. She had worked with their kind before and they usually had derision for her instead of praise. “They are also a fraction of the cost of making the real thing. Give me an order for them when you need to upgrade. I could always do with the work and you guys seem safer than others.”
Harold placed George on the table and tapped it thoughtfully. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Hal stood. “Yeah, I did. We all make mistakes, but they only remain mistakes if we don’t do anything about them. Let me fix this in some small way. Besides, I like you, Harold.”
He ignored the last, except to give her a telling look.
“Marcus will still be after you.”
She shrugged off his warning. There wasn’t much they could do about Marcus.
“I can handle him.”
She hoped.
___
Natasha knocked on the door of Misha’s apartment. It was late and Misha should be home. She had tried to call him from the train station, except she had run out of money on her phone. Exhausted, all she wanted was to crash on his couch and maybe wake up next week. She looked up when one of the neighbours opened their door.
He wore a robe over some boxers. She wasn’t sure if he was just in bed or this was what he wore in the evening. “Looking for Misha?”
She nodded and moved towards him.
“Well, he has moved in with a girl, four blocks over.” That shocked her. Misha was always cautious when it came to girls.
The man had obviously been aware of her plight as he handed over a scrap of paper with an address on it.
“This is where he’s staying. You should head over there soon before curfew.”
She had forgotten about curfew in the city. The edges didn’t worry about stuff like that.
She thanked the man. Picking up her bags she headed out of Misha’s apartment building.
It wasn’t hard to find the place where Misha was staying. She wasn’t sure it was the right place, though, as she rang the buzzer. It appeared more like an industrial place.
“What do you want?” Blared suddenly in a woman’s voice over the intercom.
Natasha blinked at the harsh tone. “I’m looking for Misha. Is he here?”
There was a short silence, then the voice asked, “Who is asking?”
Natasha ran a hand through her hair. “I’m Natasha, his cousin.”
“Cousin?”
The gate opened with a screech and there was a sigh over the intercom. “Give it a push, will you when you come in?”
Natasha entered and shoved the gate closed. A shiver went down her spine and she was worried she had locked herself in. She wandered through the maze of dead cars and other interesting things.
She found a woman in a workshop with her head bowed over a computer. She didn’t look up when Natasha came in. Instead, she flapped a hand towards her.
“Misha is in the shower. Take a seat.” And motioned to the side of the workshop.
Natasha looked around. There were a kitchen and a lounge area to the side. Natasha sighed as she dropped her bags and rubbed her shoulder where the strap had cut into the skin. The woman appeared suddenly with a mug of faux-coffee.
“He always feeds me, so I suppose you expect food.”
Natasha blinked, confused. “No, I’m fine for the moment. Thank you.”
Natasha studied the woman Misha was supposedly living with. She had bright blue hair that stuck out at strange angles, probably because she always had a hand in it. She was petite but well-formed. Natasha could have wished for half her curves. She was more boy-like like herself. If this woman wore anything form-fitting she would have ended up with a trail of drooling men behind her. Natasha could see what Misha saw in her.
She huffed. “Always so dang polite. So, why are you here?”
Natasha mulled over the question for a while. “I’ve moved to the city. I thought I would stay with Misha until I found a job.”
She didn’t think that would happen now he was living with a girl. She could probably get a place at one of the hostels, but without a job, she had no money.
“There is a spare bedroom next to Misha’s. You can stay there as long as you like. You’ll need to clean it out though. I think it was used for storage. Misha knows what to do. What kind of work are you looking for?”
Misha had his own room? Maybe they weren’t together. The woman took a seat opposite her on the other couch though it didn’t match the couch she sat on. Natasha appreciated the moment to get her thoughts in order.
“Well, I’m not sure. I worked with my dad on a desalination plant.”
Her eyes lit up. “You have those big machines, right? So, working there would be like a mechanic.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Natasha had learned the hard way how to fix things. She didn’t have any qualifications. That didn’t used to matter though recently it had become more of a problem.
“There are a few wrecks around here you can fix up and sell. This place used to be a chop shop so there are all sorts of interesting things. Misha is helping me clean up. If you can fix up and trade some stuff for a profit, you can keep the money. Not like I need it.”
If th
at meant she was rich, Natasha couldn’t see it. Not from her clothes or even where she lived.
Natasha blinked, shocked by the offer. It was clear the woman didn’t really want her there yet her offer of work was beyond generous and also to include a place to stay. She must really like Misha.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome.”
She flicked her hand in her own mannerism and waved off her objections.
“No problem, you have Misha’s calm. I like calm.”
The woman got up and walked away and went back to her work. It was like she had forgotten about her already.
Natasha finished her coffee and took it to the kitchen. She contemplated whether or not she should clean it.
She jumped when the woman suddenly said, “Misha! Someone here to see you.”
Natasha saw now there were monitors next to the computer that showed the view of several cameras. Misha wandered into the workshop with just a towel around his waist.
“Visitors?” he asked the woman.
The woman waved towards her and Misha smiled genuinely when he saw her. “Natasha.”
He hugged her and left his hand on her shoulder when he finally pulled back. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve moved to the city. Dad had to sell the house.”
His eyes went sad. He realised what the sea and that house meant to her.
“Ah, Natasha, that isn’t good.”
She brushed it off. She had already grieved her mother’s house and the fact she had to leave.
“There are worse things. Your friend says I can stay here.”
Misha looked over his shoulder at the woman and smiled gently. He gestured to Natasha to follow. “Come. I need to dress and then we can talk.”
The look in his eye told her even though he slept in another room he was definitely her man. The bedrooms were on two levels.
Natasha waited outside his door as he dressed.
He said through the door, “Halcyon was nice to you?”
“Yeah, I suppose. She is a bit—”
He came out and grinned as he said, “Abrupt. Yeah, she doesn’t like many people, they just annoy her.”
Halcyon's Hero (Atramento Book 1) Page 8
