“Smells like outside,” said Timothy, the oldest of their group. “You’re not taking us to the surface are you?”
“The outer door is two miles away.” Risa pointed left. “We’re going the other way.”
The glow of small lanterns and the accompanying curious whispers of children must have seemed like something out of a ghost story to two men standing guard on either side of a heavy, trapezoidal, truck-sized door. Sweat covered both of them and their weapons shook as they attempted to aim at the phantom lights. A pair of automated sentry turrets on tripods sat idle on either side of the opening.
“Calm down, Ralek. It’s just me,” said Risa.
The man on the left lifted his visor and squinted at the menagerie. “What the hell is this?”
“Reinforcements,” said Risa, her tone flat. “Idiot, what do they look like? I’m doing our job. Open it.”
“See,” whispered one of the kids. “I told you it was her.”
At once, Risa felt the urge to smile and weep.
Ralek slammed his fist into a button on the bulkhead behind him. Whining electric motors in the walls pulled the massive door open in two halves. Inside, mechanics tended to a number of large six-wheeled rovers parked in berths. Sparks flew here and there amid the whirr of tools. A loud metal slam came from the back, and a few choice words emanated from the resulting dust cloud. She guided the kids through the garage like a teacher on a field trip, filing them into the corridor at the far end, where Garrison came sprinting up to her.
“Risa, what the hell are you doing? What happened out there? The spotters saw no trace of a detonation… The bird flew the nest.”
“These kids were living in the tunnels. I…” She hung her head. “There was no way in hell I could.”
“You know we missed the target.”
“Fu―forget the target,” yelled Risa. “I’m not murdering children. What the hell is wrong with you, Garrison? I thought you weren’t one of them.”
The kids got quiet.
Garrison recoiled from her. Silence spread over the garage like a slow-motion blast wave. One pneumatic wrench whirred again, and cut out.
“The base will still be there a couple of days from now. I”―she looked away, squeezing Kree’s hand―“don’t care about the other part as much. I’ll go back for the facility, but we need to take these kids in.”
“Whoa… You’re MLF,” said Timothy, causing a murmur among the older kids. Most of it sounded positive. “Badass.”
“This isn’t a damn orphanage, Risa.”
“It was when you took me in,” she muttered, her gaze flicking up to meet his. “Or did Maris give you crap about that too?”
“That’s different. One kid I could assume responsibility for. What’s this, a dozen?”
“Fifteen,” mumbled Risa.
Garrison cringed.
“Fourteen,” said the oldest girl.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, much better. Who’s going to handle them all?”
“Garrison, if we’re going to be the stewards of Mars, we have to welcome the ones that the rulers we despise cast aside. The UCF ignores them up here because there’s no NewsNet cameras to smile for. Up here, they’re a financial burden no one wants. I wouldn’t be surprised if they let them stay in those tunnels as a shield. You know as well as I do what kind of future they have.”
Kree laid it on thick, flashing a pouty face and sniffling as if she would burst into tears at any second.
“Our food reserves are―”
“I’ll steal a transport or four. I’m good at that.”
“They’re too young to fight.”
Risa stared at him for a long second. “Seriously? I’m not telling you to send them to war, just protect them. What else are we fighting for if not for these kids? They, more than anyone, suffer the corruption of the regime we are trying so hard to break away from. The UCF doesn’t want them, the ACC would turn them into mindless wage-slaves, and I don’t even want to say what the streets will do to them.”
Garrison paced back and forth, gesturing without coming up with anything to say.
Risa smiled. She knew she had him. “I’ll go back and demo the base after a thorough check of those tunnels for stragglers. Major Wymar was only significant to me and… I’ve made my choice. The Front only needs to take out that base. That can still be done.”
“Wymar?” Garrison’s head shot up. “How the hell did you find that out?”
“C’mon,” she whispered, tugging at Kree’s arm. “Let’s get you guys fed and cleaned up.”
Garrison shifted as they walked past him. “Risa? How?”
She tossed her hair aside, grinning over her shoulder at him.
“An angel told me.”
verhead vents forced purified air down the corridor, teasing Risa’s hair across her exposed back. A backless, strapless shift dress clung to her chest by thousands of microscopic ‘hooks’ in her skin. Ten inches from a white door, she clutched a flat, violet purse barely large enough to conceal one Hotaru-6. She squeezed it through the fake leather, grateful Kurotai paid enough attention to style and kept their weapons sleek. The faint sound of footsteps on carpet prickled at her augmented hearing.
The door opened to the side with a soft hiss, brightening the hallway.
“Miss Black,” said Shiro Murasame. “Boots with an evening gown, I see you are a trend setter. Is something wrong?” He took a step back. “Please, come in.”
“I feel naked in this thing.” She entered, facing him after a few steps.
Loose black pants covered him from waist to bare feet. At least nine linear scars marked his chest, side, and back. The shortest as wide as a hand, the longest spanned from collarbone to gut. However horrible his wounds had been, technology had reduced them to faint white trails.
Her gaze lingered on his chest. “You must have interesting hobbies. Those are some unique scars.”
He plucked a white haori jacket with blue orchids from the back of a chair and draped it over his shoulders, leaving it open. “I sometimes play with swords. The dress is beautiful, though those boots make a statement.”
Risa smirked at the rug. Dark violet covered her from breast to mid-thigh, giving way to paper-white skin until three inches below the knee―her usual heavy boots. “I have heels if I need them.” She tapped the handbag.
“There’s room for them in there with a pistol?”
She shot him a look.
He flashed a half-grin. “The outline is rather obvious. Care for a drink?”
“They’re Mems. Hot tea would be nice. If you insist on wasting alcohol on my Tox Filter, make it sake, warm.”
She let her arms fall to the sides, wandering across the room under the siren call of a balcony. The sight of a roofless city beyond the doors struck her as another world viewed beyond a magical portal. The automatic glass slid out of her way as she approached, letting the wind lift her hair. Shiro’s apartment looked out over the city of Arcadia from the eighty-ninth floor. Risa held on to the railing, mesmerized by the thousand shimmering lights of the largest aboveground city on Mars. Specks of red and green light zoomed around the buildings: advert bots, delivery bots, and hovercars. Someone had once said this city was as close to Earth as you could get on Mars, and for that she’d decided to hate it without ever having laid eyes on it.
This view left her speechless.
Overhead, the atmospheric dome created an artificial star field in reflection, superimposed over real sky. Shiro extended a hand across her back and touched her shoulder as he moved up to stand at her side. Fingers sliding down her skin sent a shiver through her.
“I am sorry, Miss Black. I do not mean to make you uncomfortable.” He backed up a step and held out a mug. “Your tea?”
“You live so high up. It feels like I’m going to fall.” Risa cradled the tea, finding the mug hotter than it looked. The wind kept the steam invisible.
Shiro closed his jacket, tying a twist in the cloth
belt. “You’ve got so much sadness in your eyes. It makes me wonder if you might jump.”
A cluster of advert bots swarmed, sensing people. Boxes and orbs lingered for a few seconds, shifting around Risa. Holo-panels burst like fireworks all around them full of ads for jewelry, cosmetics, shoes, coats, feminine products, and e-mags. Risa glared at that screen. Even the bots can see the pistol? Damn. When she showed no interest after six seconds, the cloud of robots flew apart and reoriented around Shiro. A second explosion of holographic panels bathed him in light as the cluster of basketball-sized orbs projected screens full of things they calculated he may want.
“I’m sorry, I just feel like Maris sent me here to look pretty for you. I don’t like being so exposed.” She couldn’t help but stare at the open city. “This is awkward.” I’m not a…
He waved the bots off. They pivoted forward to mimic downcast glances. When Shiro did not change his mind, they rotated and flitted off one by one. “Are you referring to your dress or being out of your warren?”
She held the mug with both hands. Each sip sent a trail of warmth through her chest. “No one told me what to wear, so I guess the first half is my fault. I’m a sitting duck for a sniper out here if any of them realize who I am. How long is this going to last?”
“You aren’t losing your resolve, are you?” He stepped closer. She did not shy away, and he put an arm around her. “The movement needs you.”
“I don’t like killing people.” She leaned into him. “For so long, I was angry at the military for taking my father. I was never supposed to be a killer. Somehow sneaking around and spying turned into planting bombs. Every time I kill, I get sick when what I did sinks in.”
“Colonel Black was a good man.”
Her eyes widened, glowing violet as her head snapped around at him. “What?”
Shiro hardened his jaw, staring at a distant tower bedecked with flashing lights. “In my line of work, it pays to learn who you are conducting business with. I had my people do some research. I know who your father was, and what happened to him. I’m sorry.”
Risa clutched the purse to her chest under crossed arms. For no reason she could think of, she let him hold her while worry, guilt, and regret danced in her mind.
“You are a mysterious woman, one moment invisible and deadly, the next timid. I half expected to lose a hand when I touched your shoulder.”
“I’ve spent most of my life alone. I’m edgy around people.” She picked at the half-empty mug, unable to peel her stare away from the city so far below. “Stories get out of control. If people are scared of me, I don’t have to kill so many of them.”
“You don’t want to be hurt again, by loss.”
She looked to the right, away. “I almost killed a bunch of orphans last week.”
Shiro tensed his arm, offering her a shoulder upon which to lose her composure. She came close, but swallowed the urge to cry.
“No one scouted the tunnels. I should have run my own reconnaissance, but I was so focused on getting one of the bastards who ordered it.” Her voice slowed from its desperate cadence. “I almost didn’t make it back to the bomb in time. I brought them to the safehouse. We’re stretched so thin already for supplies. It was reckless, but if I left them out there, the best thing they could hope for is to get killed before they lose their innocence. There was no way in hell I could leave them out there. I… I wanted to ask if you could help.”
He encouraged her off the patio with an arm at her back and followed her in. A wave at the door caused it to close in response. The inside air enfolded Risa in warmth. Not until the wind stopped did she notice she was shivering.
“Your people need money?”
“Yes. For food and clothes.” She tried to sip from the empty mug, and fumbled through an awkward attempt to look casual. “Maybe some edu-pads now that there’s kids. We have nothing for them. We can barely feed ourselves.”
He walked past her to sit on the foot of the bed. “Running around the tunnels of Mars with a bunch of revolutionaries labeled as a ‘terrorist organization’ doesn’t seem like a good place for children either.”
“What else can we do? The UCF doesn’t care about them. Half of them are war orphans. It’s not like Earth where the government bends over backwards… practically take your kids away if you yell at them too loud.”
Shiro laughed. “Mars has far fewer NewsNet bots. The people in charge don’t really care that much on Earth, it’s all for PR. Up here, the government has money issues. All the resources are going into the war. There’s so much bad news on a day-to-day basis, who notices the little boy pickpocketing the crowd? The Martian senate is always at odds with their counterparts on Earth.”
“Grateful kids become loyal adults,” grumbled Risa, scowling at the dark red carpet.
“I am sorry no one was there for you. I may be able to help your new friends, but you might wish to consider entering them in the colony adoption program. Some of those settlements even have plants, trees, and grass. Wouldn’t that be better than life in a cave?”
Risa gave him a hurt look for a moment, but sighed. “This is their home. I might have been on my own, but Mars is all I know. I would feel just as out of place on Earth as those kids would on a colony.”
“Clear sky, parents, and no one shooting at them?” He raised both eyebrows. “You would deny them that?”
“They’re not being inducted into the MLF. We’re just giving them a home.”
Shiro smiled. “Don’t delude yourself, Risa. If they grow up among freedom fighters, they will adopt the cause. You did.”
She cringed. “None of them had their parents murdered by the military they served.”
“Oh? None of them?”
Kree wouldn’t talk. Risa shivered. What are the odds? No… couldn’t be.
“I don’t know… You make it sound like leaving Mars is the only way for a person to be happy. We are proud of our home. In another few generations, the air will be like Earth. We won’t get there if everyone gives up.”
“The Corporate Council is not going to stop. The two sides will tear each other to pieces and leave the planet in ruins.” Shiro took her mug and crossed the room to the reassembler. “Trying to attack both at once will only make it take longer.”
“What are you saying?” She picked at her nails. “We should join the UCF?”
Shiro chuckled. “A weak third party doesn’t try to take on two superpowers. Sometimes it doesn’t require much of a push to tilt the balance of an even match.”
He crossed the room with a fresh mug of tea, standing within arm’s reach behind her. Even with her gaze on the floor, she could feel his eyes sliding up and down her naked back. I’m not a whore. She clenched her toes inside her boots, thinking of Kree’s face. But if that’s what it takes to feed them… Risa moved at a slow turn, eyes downcast at Shiro’s legs. After a moment of psyching herself up into trading her body for his charity, she lifted a wounded-puppy look to meet his stare. She tolerated it for less than a second before shame slapped her to the side.
“All right.” He handed her the tea. “I’m sure I can see my way clear to donate to a children’s charity.” He walked to a glass-topped desk with a thin metal frame.
Risa breathed in hard gasps, trying not to make noise. The shaking mug came close to spilling boiling tea on her hands. Her heart raced as if she’d missed being run over by a PubTran bus by inches.
“I have a favor to ask of your associates.” Shiro tapped at a terminal until a man’s face appeared in hologram, above a drab red military uniform with gold epaulets.
A different form of shame weighed in her stomach. “I don’t do assassinations.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He smiled, sipping his warm sake. “This would be a military operation. If it goes well, I might be able to persuade some of my contacts back on Earth to dig into the reasons behind your father’s unfortunate death. I would provide your men with weapons and transportation. Perhaps we can discuss t
he particulars over dinner?”
She rocked back on her heels while frowning at her boots. “Why do I think I’m going to regret this?”
“Dinner? Or my request?”
The strip of bare skin from his neck to his belt distracted her voice to a whisper. “Perhaps both.”
Shiro laughed. “We shall have to see then.”
Risa sat on the edge of the bed, one arm across her lap, one hanging limp beside her right boot. Shiro threw off his haori, draping it over a chair, and entered the bathroom. She sipped the tea in no great hurry, every so often reaching down to pluck open one of the fasteners on her boots. Ten minutes later, with three of the five fasteners slacked open, her hand stalled with doubt. The sound of Shiro emerging from the autoshower distracted her. Boosted ears registered every motion, breath, and brush of cloth.
What am I doing? Eyes closed, she exhaled out her nose. I have to find money before that idiot Maris does something stupid. Those kids don’t deserve a life like mine. Cool air brushed over her feet as she slipped off her boots and rubbed the marks left in her skin.
Click.
The delicate sound of an M3 plug snapping in place brought her gaze to a shadow stretching over the carpet from the bathroom door. A knot formed in her gut. You are being paranoid. When she had first seen Shiro, a cursory scan had shown minimal cyberware. No, you’re being careful.
She reached into her purse, threading her fingers around the Hotaru. “On the ‘net?”
Shiro nudged the bathroom door to the side, peeking through a three-inch gap. A dark grey-blue thread ran over his shoulder, glinting metallic in the light. “Making reservations.” His smile weakened. “I was hoping for it to be a surprise. How did you know I was online?”
“Our electronic surveillance people told me you were on an outbound link. I got concerned.”
His smile returned. “Clever. They should soon tell you my mind has wandered to the net lobby of The Starlight.”
“Never heard of it.” She averted her gaze.
Hand of Raziel (Daughter of Mars Book 1) Page 17
