A pat on the shoulder and off he went. Concern, funny. The small sweat and tremble in Dill’s words must have misled him. Once he heard the door catch, Dill went for the small matchbox in his pocket, but before he could do anything, the door clicked open. Shit. And the night is just too fuckin’ gorgeous.
In came the leader of the strike team that responded to McKenna’s containment request. A face Dill had not seen in years. “Caine.” Best greeting he would ever get. Dill looked back at the sleeping Marshal. He was sure Caine felt the shock of seeing him after so long. Dill heard his lips trying to move, it was that quiet in the room. He quickly tucked his pendant back into his shirt, but Caine saw it.
“Funny time for a reunion, yeah?” That was the best he could come up with. Still, Dill couldn’t say he wasn’t curious. He expected Caine to just walk out now, but the kid couldn’t read the sign. Shop’s closed, don’t come back later. He cleared his throat and went on. “I know he’s head of the new ISTF unit but I’ve never seen him before.” The sweat started to bead down Dill’s chin. He felt it in his legs.
“Does it still come and go?” When Caine said that, Dill had enough. He pulled a red tab from the box, barely able to keep it still. Blood Rose. Bad stuff, but the only thing that worked. He crushed the capsule in his mouth, releasing the liquid down his throat. It was seconds before he felt that ice water feeling in his veins. Shoulders lighter, head more observant, tremors gone. His hand was still again.
“Did you come here for something, Caine?”
“It’s… a coincidence. Mum’s been worried about you, Dill. You ignore her calls, I can’t keep telling her you’re all right—”
“I asked you a damn question.”
“Hm. Not that it’s any of your concern, but my team is securing the streets where McKenna was attacked. He’ll want a report when he comes to.”
“Pass the report to me. I’m sure he doesn’t need to hear it in-bloody-person.”
“Just when the hell did you become my boss?” Caine took a step forward. “What the hell were you even doing out there?”
Christ, he’s still a spitfire young shit. But he was probably the type of shit who would go above and beyond now. At least it was work chatter. “I had a meeting with the Council. That’s where I came from. When I heard the ISTF containment alert, I got there as fast as I could. Any more questions, kid?”
“The Council? Did the Council recruit you to this new unit?”
“Mhm. That man in there? He’s my new boss. I’ve been appointed by the Council to be his partner.”
Caine looked a bit shocked then. Was it happiness on his mug? Jealousy, maybe? “That’s big, Dill!”
“It’s just another job, kid. Nothing big about it. The fact that I have to babysit this man is unsettling.”
“Bullshit. Those things out there are real. They must be a serious threat if the Council sees fit for a new police unit and you’re one of the top men leading it.”
“It’s cleanup work. Something more suited for the likes of you gunners. There’s real cases out there.”
“Calm and easy as always. Too blinded to see what a good thing this is in your career. You haven’t changed.”
“Maybe once you’ve survived as long as I have you’ll see that asking for it isn’t too unreasonable. If you want to chase sunshine and glory, go right ahead, mate!”
“That’s not the Dill I remember. That’s not the Dill who drove me to join Interpol.”
“It was never me. It was our father, and don’t you forget that. He was pride of the police and look what it got him. Fools who want to fight the good fight. ‘Come home after a raid and down a pint.’ In this city, those cops get killed faster than gettin’ nowhere.”
“Does it pain you that much to look at him in some other light?”
Caine was bringing stuff up that he should leave settled. For years they hounded him, yet it all came back to him. It always derailed to Liam Fuckin’ Roberts. Their father made Dillon and Caine brothers, but little else.
Caine opened the door prepared to leave. “And it was you, Dill. You were no different. Seeing you rise from the slums? That was you, mate. You had the will to change yourself and those around you. You caught hundreds on that pursuit bike, took any dirty assignment. You took on everything you shouldn’t have when you were lower sec. We don’t judge you for what you were, what you did, where you came from. It’s what you’ve become now, after you and dad… Now, you’re something different. That condition of yours is slowly killing you, Dill.
“It’s just a tick, a shake. Doctors can’t help this sort of thing.”
“It’s bloody shellshock, Dill-”
“It’s under control!” Dill shouted but louder than he intended. Caine simply shook his head.
“And I’m sure the Blood Rose is helping, right?” Dill groaned as he couldn’t find anything to say. “I’ll report to you once my men are finished sweeping the streets. And I’ll give your regards to Mum.”
The door clicked closed again. Dill had nothing. Worst part about it is, Caine knew it. He knew it sunk had in. Bastard.
“Slowly killing me…”
***
McKenna opened his eyes slowly but was quick to shut them again as he peered into a blinding light above him. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked around the room to see himself inside an infirmary.
“Second time in two days…” McKenna muttered as he rubbed his eyes. The nurse across the room heard as she was inspecting his medical chart. She turned around and walked over to him.
“Inspector McKenna,” the young nurse said. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit with a lead pipe,” McKenna said, rubbing the back of his head. “But all things considered, not too bad.”
“That’s good to hear. We gave you a small amount of suture-foam to seal the damage you took. It will hold, but you really should try to avoid lead pipes in the meantime.” He sat up from the table but quickly leaned back. “And a small bit of morphine to keep the headache at bay. No reason you should be in pain, after all,” the nurse said with an almost fabricated smile on her face.
“Given my track record so far on this planet, you might see me again.” McKenna grabbed his shirt and coat, looking at his body in the mirror next to him. Not a bother to him, but the nurse took notice.
“Try to take better care of yourself, Inspector,” she added, referencing the mess of scars and bruises on his body.
“Trouble just seems to follow me, I guess,” McKenna said as threw his shirt on. “So, it may seem like a strange question, but where exactly am I?”
“That’s right, they said you just transferred. You’re at the Memorial Medical Center, Yellow Sector One. Some of your comrades are outside the room. They can probably fill you in on anything non-medical related.”
“Thank you for the morphine, nurse.” McKenna picked up his gear belt and threw on his coat. As he walked out of the room, he went down a hallway and found himself in a waiting room with several Enforcers. Most of them saluted him, and one approached.
“Fancy that.” McKenna already had a feeling why he’d seen him three times in one day.
“Inspector McKenna, sir?” the detective said with a sharp accent, posing a salute followed by a handshake. “Sergeant Dillon Roberts, sir, or just Dill if you prefer. Looks like you kept your head, always good. What happened down there?”
“I can’t say exactly,” McKenna said as he recollected. “I just grabbed a bite and then checked out a Black Cell victim. And then those things…”
“Yeah. Calamity can’t even wait for the digestion, can it? It was good you put in that containment code. We’ll debrief later at the station. You know, I met with the Council just after you. It looks like we’re partners for now.”
“They told me I’d be running into you. Sorry it had to be a gunfight. Well, if your work is anything like I saw in that alley, I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Likewise, sir, I’ve heard a lot abou
t you. But there will be time for talk later. We have to get you to your new headquarters. I hate hospitals, mate.”
“Trust me, I’m growing bored of them as well.” They both started walking to the exit. “You have a ride I presume? Statistically speaking, I think walking will more likely get me killed than flying. A new rule I should set for myself.”
“Right outside, sir. Shall we?”
McKenna and Dill embarked on the VTOL craft outside while the other officers departed to their original posts, a few heading to the same headquarters as McKenna.
The bright neon lights of the night breathed real life into the city, incomparable to the barren landscape of Mars.
McKenna had only seen videos showing the majesty of the dense metropolises of Earth. To him, it was a sight to behold. To Dill, it was an eyesore. For someone born and raised in London, another great metropolis, the towering super skyscrapers and endless polluting advertisements plastered on every building seemed normal and dull. McKenna eyed a large flying advertisement banner, large enough to see from the bay: Paragon News: As a Citizen, Your Power is Knowledge.
“Never took you for a gazer, sir.” Dill said.
“Sorry, I just…” McKenna muttered.
“Never seen much like it?”
“Just hard to believe where we come from.”
“Ha-ha. Don’t have infrastructure like this on Mars, eh? I wouldn’t give ourselves much credit though. Most of the infrastructure itself is Auroran engineered. I’ll tell you mate, after we fell those Aurorans rebuilt the cities right, far beyond anything we could manage at the time.”
“Are all the cities like this? On Earth, I mean?”
“Most of the major cities from Old Earth. London, Moscow, Paris, Shanghai, Cairo, Berlin. And New York, of course, but that’s just to name a fraction.”
“Incredible…” McKenna spent a few more minutes gazing out at the city life below. The view could keep him occupied for hours, but he didn’t want Dill to feel awkward in the silence. “So, Roberts, I hear you have quite the resume, as the Council put it.”
“Is that so? What did the cheeky bastards say about good ol’ Dillon Roberts?”
“That you’ve held almost every position that Interpol has to offer: undercover, strike, patrol… but over three hundred arrests in Bike Pursuit? That’s incredible.”
“Fast pace and plenty of speed buggers to catch. Detective work slowed me down a little if my age hadn’t already. When I did pursuit, the gangers used to call me the Circuit Enforcer.”
“Gave you a reputation, huh?”
“I had this beat I ran in Yellow Sector, they called it the Circuit. Hottest spot for illegal racers, crimson runners, parts thieves. Not many got away from me.”
“I read you rarely had backup. Couple that with a Mach 2 pursuit bike, pretty dangerous job.”
“We were all shot out of a cannon once, yeah?”
McKenna smirked. “So, about the alley,” he said.
“Yeah, about the alley. Have you seen the clips on the InfiNET yet?” Dill said as he waived his tool to McKenna’s, his mood changing as he saw the detailed images of the scene.
McKenna opened the small viewing terminal on his tool and began watching raw footage of the events that transpired in the alley, including vivid photographs. One photograph in particular was from within the presumably sealed alley: an overhead shot of the Enforcers firing into a crowd, which from the angle, looked more like humans than mutants.
“Word travels fast,” McKenna said as he continued watching.
“Yeah. Fucking Lost Tribune. I don’t even know how they got the bloody shot.”
“Local tabloid?”
“Undercity fucking propaganda is all it is. Because of this mystery photographer, those clippings have hit every major tabloid sheet on the planet already. Lost Tribune calls it the ‘Flash Avenue Massacre’. Ridiculous.”
“Someone doesn’t have their facts right,” McKenna said.
“Bending the truth gets you many places, especially into the hearts and minds of the people. Whatever makes a good story is all they care about. There’s a lot bigger problems here today than what we saw in that alley. Thirteen Enforcers and twenty-two civvies were killed in an explosion last night near the Orange and Red Sec connecting barricade. Didn’t see one sodding article, mate, not a word.”
“I might have heard that. Gang violence, was it?”
“Biggest threat on the planet, the undercities, but everyone knows that so the media doesn’t bat an eye. Paragon News is at least unbiased, but even they get bored of the same story every day. The ones that matter.”
“Well, from what I’ve read, no one’s ever seen what we saw in that alley.”
“They wouldn’t have either, if Lost Tribune hadn’t sneaked in a few shots of the alley when you were clocked out. Nice photograph though, it was great. Had us all in uniform, opening fire on those guys, pressed and dressed in full kit, can’t tell it was mutants we was firin’ at. They ran that ‘massacre’ piece claiming we’re murderers. Meanwhile, Paragon News reveals we’re understaffed. The people call us pansies, useless. Puts a perspective on where you stand.”
“Were there any bodies recovered?” McKenna asked.
“Other than you? None. We were three men strong, moderately armed, but still outnumbered five to one. I honestly think the ghoulish bastards could have finished us, but luckily they pulled back as we came, collecting their dead and wounded. No sign of them after that. Managed to get this back for you. It’s loaded.” Dill handed McKenna back his Ripper handgun, bringing a slight wave of relief.
“Not a good start,” McKenna said as he checked the pistol before holstering.
At last Dill began the landing procedure on a nearby landing pad. Their destination was Dog Precinct in Orange Sector. This put them much closer to the undercity, where most incidents of mutant attacks had been recorded. The VTOL touched down on the landing pad, and as the engine powered down, a loud obnoxious beeping rang out in the cockpit. This was followed by a low monotone computerized voice: WARNING. HAZARDOUS ATMOSPHERE. PLEASE EQUIP BREATHER. WARNING –
“Is that standard?” McKenna joked.
“I keep forgetting you’re new to the Blue Jewel. Every door you step through, every vehicle you exit, you’ll hear a cheeky bastard like that. Sometimes you’re lucky though! You might get a fiery female if you’re in the newer models.” Dill laughed as he equipped his breather.
McKenna forced a smile and did the same. He tried to find the humor, but to McKenna, the truth was that at any moment, carelessness to follow this essential rule would, literally, kill you. The cockpit hissed as it opened and both men disembarked the craft. The landing pad, like the one when he arrived at the skyport, was connected to the skyscraper by a long arm. Several others holding more craft were also connected to the building.
“Here it is sir, Dog Station, Orange Sector,” Dill said as they both walked to the building.
“How long have you been stationed here?” McKenna asked, following.
“Two long years tomorrow, sir. Can’t say anyone will take notice to my anniversary, but maybe now that you’re in command, we can prioritize celebrations on the calendar.”
“I’m a little confused as to how all of this is going to play out. The Council kept the details to a minimum.”
“They probably didn’t have any. Big help, the Council. Not that my brief was any less vague. Seeing how you’re from off planet, they must have worked you over like a seasoned prostitute, huh?” Dill cleared his throat after seeing no reaction from the Martian. “Let’s see. Deal with the mutants, assist in Marshal McKenna’s case, and don’t question him. Brilliant. No offense, of course, Marshal.”
McKenna shrugged.
“If you don’t mind me asking sir, I’ve never quite done anything like this before, but I’ve been meaning to ask. What exactly did they brief you on?” Dill stopped himself just a few meters outside the door to the precinct, his tone growing serious.
“Not much. Just a mutation that’s spreading like wildfire in the undercities. They needed a new lead for a new unit, or at least that’s what the citizens will get from it. We’re going after this High Science case.” McKenna was curious as to what they’d spoken to Dill about and why they were briefed separately. From the sounds of it, so was Dill.
“Is that all?” Dill said, baffled. McKenna simply shrugged. “Honestly I’m not surprised. Actually, I don’t know if I should be, either. No one is ever summoned by the Council, not anyone that I can name. I hear the words they choose are extremely particular. But we’re being bothered by these ghouls, the Taken or whatever, and those High Science attackers got away with high treason. That should be our focus always. Why would this group steal that body? Why deny a cure?”
“Questions we can’t learn the answers to by just standing here.”
“Most of all,” Dill said as he stepped closer. “Why would the Earth Council recruit you, a Martian, to the Marshal Service? To supervise a new Interpol unit? An Earth unit?”
“I was part of a process, a compilation of dossiers. They picked me. And I wouldn’t ask me that, anyway. Like I know how they pick a Marshal.”
Dill looked at McKenna sternly. The Mars Solar War was still fresh in many minds on Earth. No matter the politics, millions of men and women died in the war. “You’re replacing Captain Mulcahey,” Dill said as he stepped through the door into the station. “He’s been the Precinct Captain here for ten years, and he’s not happy that you’re replacing him. He’s had his rocky weeks like anyone else, but he’s had the station’s respect for some time now.”
McKenna listened as he looked around the station. It was smaller than he thought. Enforcers were walking around on mundane tasks, with some groups looking at operations charts and others conversing over coffee. A few walked past and saluted McKenna.
“This station is over fifty Enforcers strong. Most of them have five years’ experience at least, all in the roughest parts of the city. Some rookies were transferred here recently, but we’ll set them straight. Every precinct has already caught on that you’re supervising. Every Enforcer is eager to hear your mandate. I’m sure the Council told you of the speech you’re to give from the Earth VOX. The Chief of Interpol will be there, too. No doubt she’ll want to meet you.”
Virion: The Black Cell (Volume One of the Virion Series) Page 19
