Heir Ascendant (Faded Skies Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “This could seriously bite us in the ass, Cortez.” Kumar glanced at Maya for a few seconds more before standing. “If this kid misheard some dude and we go crazy…”

  “Yeah. But if we don’t… and… fuck.”

  Maya unclasped her hands and let her arms sway idle at her sides. “So, you search his place. If you don’t find anything, all you do is waste time. If you do find something, you get big promotions and stop them from killing Miss Oman.”

  Kumar tapped his fingers on his helmet, thinking. “Okay. What if this kid’s right? We’d be off this shit detail for life. Where’s the apartment, kid?”

  Maya pointed at the chamber of dead elevators. “This way.” She raised her hands to dissuade them from getting it in their heads they should put her in binders, and walked up to Mason’s door. “Here. It sounded like he was playing a computer game before he got the call.” She debated making up a story about Mason doing stuff to her, or giving a truthful account of him trying to get her to go inside his apartment, but decided against it. If they thought her vengeful, it might ruin the plan.

  “I don’t like this,” said Cortez. “Heard about shit like this up north. Kid could be leading us to a bomb or an ambush.”

  “I’m not.” Maya looked down. “There’s no bomb. Can I go now please? If they see me talking to the Authority, I might get in trouble. People here don’t like snitches… even little ones.”

  “So why are you snitching?” Cortez leaned over her.

  “Because… my mom said that society is only as good as its laws, and people have to do the right thing.” She summoned her most idealistic wide-eyed expression.

  “Right. They’re cute when they’re clueless.” Kumar waved at her. “Go on home.”

  Maya backed to the fire stairs while Kumar pulled a small device from his belt, which opened both locks in a matter of seconds. They peered inside, muttered a few curses, and radioed out for backup.

  She turned around to start up the stairs and almost screamed at Sarah being less than a foot away. Without a word, the older girl took her by the hand and led her upstairs, back to apartment 139.

  Maya sat on the patio, legs dangling through the bars of the railing, feet swaying free. Sarah adopted a similar position on the other side of two plastic cups full of Citru-Shine nutrient drink. The bright orange liquid looked in no way anything of nature’s creation. Each sip crashed into her sensorium with the overwhelming strength of eating five oranges in a single bite. A tattered strip of yellowing fabric around Sarah’s calves fluttered in the wind from where her curtain-dress showed signs of unraveling. The sun sank into the murk in the west, darkening the city. None of the Authority vehicles had turned on any lights. Before long, they became imperceptible from the general gloom below.

  “I can’t believe you walked right up and talked to them.” Sarah still looked terrified over an hour later. “I thought they were going to arrest you.”

  “I had to.” Maya leaned her head between the bars and peered down at nine Authority vans and a swarm of blueberries. “I can’t believe we’re not all tied up again.”

  “It’s not a full search and sweep this time. They locked the building. No one can leave their apartments… at least the ones where the doors work.” She winked. “‘Course, it’s stupid to go down there―they’d shoot us.”

  Maya glanced over her shoulder at the patio door. “But we’re stuck out here.”

  “Yeah. Not our fault. They didn’t give us any warning. Besides, it’s not like we can go anywhere unless you wanna jump.”

  Headlights glimmered to the left, rounding a corner a few blocks north. Maya reached over and Sarah took her hand. Mr. Mason, even seven stories down and in a car, scared her. His little beige e-car trundled down the street, slaloming junk and debris. About a hundred yards from the front of the building, he jammed on the brakes when the far reach of his headlights caught the first of the Authority vehicles. He hesitated only a few seconds before pulling up and parking out front as though he owned the building.

  Sarah leaned her head against the railing to peer down, clutching the bars.

  A handful of lights came on, beams swarming like a sea of angry bees until they converged on Mason, who raised an arm to shield his face. Over a loudspeaker, a man ordered him to the ground.

  Mason stood motionless for two seconds before a sharp pop went off, and a sparkling fist-sized lightning orb dazzled bright blue on his chest. Mason hit the street convulsing. The blueberries swarmed him, and the thumps and thuds of a thirteen-on-one ass-kicking echoed up from below. A few comments from the blueberries hinted they’d seen that picture―plus found even worse on his computer―and seemed to take umbrage with it.

  Sarah gathered a wad of spit on her lip and let it fall. “Go to hell, bastard.”

  Maya swung her feet side to side, watching them drag the unconscious man into the back of one of their vehicles. “Yeah. What she said.”

  When the trucks lit up with blue flashing lights and proceeded to pull away, the girls retreated from the edge and sat facing each other. Maya sipped more of her drink and cringed at the punch of orange to the teeth.

  “Think he’ll be back?” asked Sarah.

  Maya shook her head. “Nope.”

  Sarah leaned forward and scratched at the front of her ankle. “Do you feel bad?”

  The image on that computer screen would haunt her dreams for months, but the man who put such terror into her friend deserved the worst the Authority offered. “Nope.” She shivered and looked at the door. “Do you think they’re going to leave us locked outside all night?”

  Sarah shrugged. “At least it’s summer. It won’t be too bad.”

  They leaned against the warm glass, trading stories about funny things that happened before they met. Unfortunately, all of Maya’s stories involved video games, sitting bored to tears in an Ascendant office, or often-painful mishaps while filming ads. Sarah’s stories were more interesting; she told of hiding from older kids and dosers while scavenging, followed by one about how an old battery-powered talking teddy bear turned itself on and made Pick wet himself last year.

  A few cars slid by in the half hour or so after the Authority departed. Maya leaned her head on Sarah’s shoulder and got a protective arm around her back.

  “Do you think that woman really wanted you to die?” asked Sarah.

  Maya flexed and relaxed her toes a few times, pondering. “I… no, probably not. She hates losing control more than anything. The only power they had over her was the threat to kill me, so she wanted to take that away.” A lump started in her throat, but she was beyond done with letting Vanessa Oman hurt her anymore. “I bet it wouldn’t have bothered her if they did, but she was bluffing.”

  Sarah let her head lean to the right, atop Maya’s. “Sorry she hates you. It’s awful to think she can’t love anyone.”

  Maya scratched at the crook of her neck where Sarah’s hair tickled. “There’s a picture of a man on her desk. It looks old. She told me once ‘they’ killed him when he wouldn’t do what ‘they’ wanted. I think the old government tried to take over Ascendant. Maybe she loved him and doesn’t wanna get hurt again.”

  “Do you think that’s why she left you alone all the time? So she didn’t get attached?” Sarah shied into her at the sound of a distant drone, too far away to see except for a patch of light on buildings two blocks away.

  “Maybe.” Maya scrunched her hands into the silk of her nightdress, choked up by Genna’s promise to find her better clothes. “Or maybe she’s just a bitch. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her. I used to try and call her to say goodnight, but she never answered.”

  They clung to each other in silence for some time, glancing down at the street whenever a car pulled up or an Authority transit bus dropped off workers.

  “He won’t come back, will he?” asked Sarah.

  Maya shrugged. “Not if they believe me.”

  Buzzing erupted throughout the building from dozens of tiny sp
eakers, followed by a loud bee-woop noise. A sharp click emanated from the door above their heads and a recorded voice played, “Lockdown lifted. Thank you for your compliance.”

  Maya stood and pulled the patio glass open with a grunt. “Guess they believed me.”

  “Yeah.” Sarah’s long-absent smile returned.

  ook’s voice bumped against the edge of Maya’s consciousness. She reclined on the concrete in the story room, less than two feet from the edge by the missing wall. Two days had come and gone. Doctor Chang had been the phantom they mistook for Mr. Mason coming home early. Naida showed up earlier that morning, in a bad mood but seemingly healthy. Pick hadn’t joined them for story night, preferring to stay with his sister.

  Every so often, a word crept in past the swirling storm of worry raging in Maya’s skull. Book continued to narrate the story in character voices, using his own wheezy tenor only for the narration. Maya wondered what sort of life the man had led to require a cybernetic implant capable of changing his voice to such a degree that he could sound like everything from a little girl to a demonic creature. Maybe he worked for the pre-war government, a spy or something… or maybe he had been an actor. Few people got cybernetics these days. The expense and risk were unheard of out here in the Habitation District. Only Citizens had the money for implants, and only clinics inside the Sanctuary Zone were safe.

  Maya wondered how much of what she’d read on the AuthNet was, as Sarah’s father liked to say, ‘boo-shee.’ The articles did portray the conditions out here far worse than they seemed to be. Granted, it was bad. Except for Genna’s stash, most people she’d met had only the clothes on their backs, or at least they appeared to as they wore the same stuff every day. She had yet to see Pick with a shirt on, though he did have at least four different pairs of pants. Emily owned a second outfit consisting of a loose white top, skirt, and black tights, but Maya didn’t want to take the girl’s clothes. That costume dress would fall apart eventually. Maybe she and Sarah could sell Mr. Mason’s computers to Foz for some outfits―provided the Authority hadn’t impounded them. There had to be something worth scavving in there. Not like he would need them again. Maya squirmed. She didn’t really want to touch them… or anything else in that place.

  She squinted as the wind picked up, whipping her hair about and brushing warmth over her bare shoulders and legs. It reminded her of her first hours away from the Sanc, chained to a damp mattress in a room full of people ready to kill her. While a trio of magical children searched for a secret under the school in Book’s story, Maya gazed out at the murky ruin of a city and tried to make Genna come home by sheer force of will. She’d cut the tape within minutes of arriving at their hideout, which made her kinder than the Authority. Officer Baxter would’ve left her in the bag the whole time.

  Her mother was the only person the Authority hadn’t brought back. Maya rolled on her side toward the edge, propped her head on her left hand, and traced lines in the concrete dust with her finger. None of the adults wanted to do anything to help. Even Barnes and his Brigade friends had given up. She peered out at the smear of light in the fog where the Sanctuary Zone glowed. Vanessa couldn’t know that Maya had come to truly despise her. Maya had spent most of her life being the embodiment of lies, smiling for the camera. She could lie more. Maybe if she traded herself back to that life, she could ask not-Mom to set Genna free.

  She doubted Vanessa would believe Genna really helped her escape her kidnappers, but what that woman believed often had little impact on what she did for appearances. If they could turn it into a media circus and make money out of it, she’d do it. Maya sniffled at already thinking about leaving her new friends and never coming back. Genna had saved her life; she had to return the favor.

  That’s what family does.

  Maya sat up and moved away from the edge. The other kids, sans Pick, sat in a close circle around Book. The old man’s forehead still bore a purple mark from the Authority security check. Apparently, they liked lip even less from old men than they did from little red-haired girls. Maya plopped down next to Sarah, who seemed like herself again. With Mason gone from the building, she’d returned to her carefree bravado.

  Most of Maya’s raspberry glitter nail polish had flaked off. While pretending to listen to the story, she helped the rest of it along by picking at it. Sarah gave her a ‘I know something’s wrong’ look, but didn’t try to talk over the narration. Maya wanted to run off right that second, but with Book there, not to mention Barnes, Weber and who knows how many other adults up and about, someone would grab her. If they knew she wanted to run off to save Genna, she’d wind up in a locked room or under constant supervision.

  Perhaps she could share her plan with Sarah. That would end in one of two ways: either the girl would want to go with her, which would be too dangerous… or she’d tell her dad, which would circle right back to her being trapped here.

  Maya didn’t want to run away, but she couldn’t let Genna rot in jail. If, hopefully, she hadn’t been executed already. She hid her face against Sarah’s shoulder and sniffled.

  “It’s not even a sad part,” whispered Emily. “Shh.”

  Maya tried not to think about Genna, but couldn’t get into the story despite the perfect imitation of multiple character voices.

  Eventually, Book stopped. “Okay, kids. Time for dinner.”

  Food plans had been arranged earlier. Anton, Marcus, and Book would eat with the Changs. Sarah and Maya would dine at home, likely on a feast of self-inflating cheese sandwiches. Pick, presumably, would eat whatever Naida cooked him. Had Maya’s gut not been in knots over Genna, she would’ve envied him. His sister was an awesome cook.

  She trudged behind Sarah down to the seventh floor and back to their apartment. Sharing a bed with Sarah was cool, but she’d rather have her mother there to protect her. That also explained the patio being on the living room; that apartment had two bedrooms unlike Genna’s. For all she’d seen so far, Sarah’s dad was a screaming heap of uselessness. If something bad happened, he’d throw a tantrum and shout, but more or less sit there doing nothing about it. Maya felt a little cheated. She’d wanted Genna to get the chance to smash Mason in the face.

  Maya locked the door and deadbolt once inside Sarah’s apartment. The Dad was in the bathroom, pissing from the sound of it. Two huge men frozen on the TV screen grimaced at the exact instant their boxing gloves caught each other’s faces.

  “Eww.” Maya rushed into the kitchen. “Why can’t your dad close the bathroom door?”

  Sarah shrugged. “It’s just the way he is. Too much time in the military.” She stooped, took a pan out from the cabinet, placed it on the stove, then set out three small metal canisters with lids and generic white labels marked ‘beef stew’ in a line on the counter nearby.

  Maya sat on the edge of a chair, forward enough for her feet to touch floor. “Why are you doing the cooking?”

  The Dad tromped back to the couch, fell into his divot, and belched. He unpaused the TV, and within a half second, erupted in a cavalcade of obscenities directed at the man winning the boxing match.

  “Oh, Dad’s not very good at it.” Sarah opened a canister and poured the chunky brown sludge within into the pot.

  “All you’re doing is warming up stuff from a can.” Maya didn’t flinch―much―when a suspicious roach-like tickle swept over the top of her right foot. She jumped, but relaxed at the sight of a scrap of plastic wrapping drifting across the floor.

  “Some people really are that bad at it.” She dumped the second canister into the pot, but struggled with the twist lid on the third, grunting and making faces.

  Maya twisted left as Sarah passed behind her, then whipped her head around to track the girl on her way into the living room. In flagrant disregard of the seemingly violent drunkard on the couch, the redhead walked up to him.

  “Dad?” shouted Sarah over the TV.

  He paused it, fury evaporated in an instant. “Oi, luv?”

  “Can you open
this?” She held up the metal canister.

  The Dad gripped it in his living hand and clamped the rickety metal one on the lid. Unpadded fingers scraped around without any sort of grip. He switched hands and strained, face reddening. Two seconds later, the metal claw hand crushed the canister with such force beef stew exploded over them both. He made a sheepish face and handed her back the twisted ruin.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Sarah stood for a second, brown goop dripping from her face and chest, then walked back to the kitchen. “See?”

  Maya blinked at him. He licked at his arms and lifted his tank top to his lips, slurping up every trace he could find. When he started jamming his tongue into the cracks and crevices of his prosthetic arm, Maya cringed away. Sarah slapped the bottom of the smashed canister, urging the rest of the stew out of it into the pan.

  Eventually, the smell of beef broth permeated the kitchen and pulled The Dad away from his TV. He stumbled in, muttering as if in the midst of a debate about the merits of ‘benevolent dictatorship’ versus ‘socialism by committee.’ He plopped himself in a chair opposite Maya at the square table and squinted at her. “Damn, you gettin’ a lot of sun, Faerie.”

  “I’m over here, Dad.” Sarah sighed.

  He glanced at her, at Maya, and back to Sarah. “Dammit girl. You’re too young to have kids.”

  A bubble of mirth almost managed to rise past the sludge in Maya’s heart.

  “She’s not mine, Dad. For shit’s sake, I’m only eleven. I’d have been two when she was born.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s not possible then.” He tapped his three metal fingers on the table. “Hmm. I don’t remember you.”

  “Genna’s her mom,” said Sarah.

  The Dad chuckled. “I don’t remember ever puttin’ the moves on ‘er. Sure would like―”

  “You didn’t,” said Maya. “Sarah said I could stay here ‘til Genna comes home.”

  “Oh.” Several missing teeth showed in his grin. “Nae problem. Where she be?”

  “Authority got her.” Sarah turned off the heating element and doled stew out into bowls.