“Who is he? The one who hurt your boss?” asked Ida.
Howard laughed. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with here, lady.” He looked at Milt. “She doesn’t even know the city. How is she supposed to help us? You’re playing with fire here.”
“I know this seems crazy,” said Milt. “But my brother was one of the soldiers who came back from the wars. Yeah, he went kinda nuts, but he was still my same brother. And he knew things. Things like how to fight, how to use weapons. Nobody else…normal people don’t know these things.” Milt took a seat on an adjacent desk. “Show her the video.”
Howard swiveled to his machine and pressed play.
Ida left the station as evening descended. The mist had turned into a steady downpour. It wasn’t a great night to own a motorcycle, but she’d been through worse. At least the rain would keep people off the streets. She needed a fast ride to think and consider the offer she’d been given.
The events at the station were serious. The owner was near dead or possibly in a coma, and, according to Milt, a producer named Nancy Brown was missing and presumed kidnapped.
Ida thought back to the video and the shocking events that had unfolded. The perpetrators were good at covering their tracks. They had located and destroyed the surveillance camera footage within the station offices.
What they hadn’t counted on was someone down below capturing them. Howard had decided to eat his lunch outside on that unseasonably mild winter day. When he saw Aaron Winston get slammed against the glass the first time, he thought it must be a stunt; part of the ad campaign.
The second time he saw Spark City’s mayor, Vance Drem, crack Winston against the window, he wondered if it was a terrible prank. He had pulled out his phone and had started the video by the third hit, when the glass window finally cracked from the pressure of Winston’s head.
Now Milt and Howard faced a serious dilemma. They knew they couldn’t go to the police about the mayor assaulting and kidnapping their staff. After all, Vance owned the police force.
Milt had seen an opportunity when Ida walked through their doors. He told her she could have a cash reward and the programmer job at triple the pay if she could find Nancy and bring her back safely.
What could she say? She had no idea what she was facing with this mayor. She knew Vance Drem was dirty; she had seen the video. And he was powerful. He ruled the city and the police, and, according to Howard, was filthy rich through all his shady dealings with politicians and mobsters.
Still, the reward money and the programmer job at three times pay were enticing. What other jobs was she going to find in this city?
How would she even go about finding this creep? What was it the panda hybrid in the bar had said about the mayor? She couldn’t recall exactly, only that he’d insinuated that the city was brainwashed against returning soldiers, and something about the mayor being involved.
Another matter weighed on her mind. The clock was ticking down, and she had yet to decide whether she was going to show up at Gatz’s bar the next night.
Chapter 9
On the edge of the half-frozen pond, Lucy sat in her favorite spot—a large, smooth rock face that jutted vertically from the ground. She was not far from the old conservatory where Ida now lived, just down a small hill from the front entrance.
Should Ida venture outside her home, she might even miss Lucy’s presence entirely. She wasn’t exactly hiding, but Lucy wasn’t sure whether she would reveal herself or not. Anyway, it would give her another opportunity to see her new neighbor, which would help with the sketch she had started.
For the time being, Lucy focused her charcoal pencil on capturing the pond and the Spark City downtown towers that rose in the distance. She felt somehow powerful, like she could take down the decaying skyscrapers and rebuild the city; correct all the wrongs that had been done.
Lucy’s former schoolteachers had chided her for daydreaming. Especially Mr. Lennox, her math instructor. He’d carried a golf club while he paced in the front of the class, lecturing the students. Once or twice a class, without fail, he knocked his club on Lucy’s desk, yelling, “Wake up!” She always blushed, embarrassed at the attention.
She couldn’t stop though. Daydreaming and art were her escapes. She could create worlds where she wanted to live, places away from Spark City—a better world for her mother, where she would be clean. There were no drugs in Lucy’s worlds.
The late morning sunlight was beginning to fade, and the cloudy sky threatened rain. In the grass nearby, two squirrels chased each other around a tree. She heard the rustling and chirping sounds of birds foraging in the trees for warmth and shelter.
Lucy had spent nearly all morning here in the hopes of seeing Ida again, but there’d been no sign of her. Maybe she was sleeping in today.
Just when she’d resolved to head home, she heard movement from the house. There was no mistaking the sound of the door opening. Lucy sat up, carefully closed her sketchbook, and placed it in her shoulder bag.
From her rock perch, Lucy watched as Ida came outside to check on her motorcycle, securing a small bag into a backseat compartment. Lucy admired her look—short black leather jacket, white shirt, black pants, and combat boots. That’s how she would dress if she had any money.
Just as she was wondering whether to walk over and reveal herself, Ida called out, “Are you going to sit over there like a creeper, or are you going to say hello?”
Lucy froze in place. How had she been seen? Without even a glance in her direction, Ida walked into her front door, leaving it slightly ajar.
Lucy was curious to get a peek inside Ida’s place, and this seemed like an invitation. She nearly made it through the front door before Ida appeared and blocked her way.
Smiling, Ida said, “Well, look who decided to show her face. If it isn’t Lucy-Lu from the neighborhood.”
“Hi,” was all Lucy could manage.
“What’s up, kid?”
Lucy saw that Ida was tired. She must not have slept well. This was Lucy’s chance, maybe her only one, to get help from her mysterious new neighbor. She steadied herself and breathed in deeply. “I came by to ask whether you need help. You know, helping you unpack. Maybe you need some odd jobs done.” Still standing in the entranceway, she turned her gaze toward the lifeless dirt that constituted Ida’s front yard. “Or, you know, like landscaping.”
“I can’t even find my own job right now, much less hire someone.” Ida placed one hand on her right hip. Lucy noticed she still wore black gloves, even though she had gone inside and ditched her jacket.
Lucy hoped she wasn’t wasting Ida’s time. How could it be that strong, fierce adults like Ida couldn’t find work? What did it say about her own future in Spark City?
“What did you do before you came here?” asked Lucy.
Ida sighed. “Medic. I was in the military.”
“Oh.” An idea struck Lucy. “Maybe I could come around and help anyway? I could stop by and do some cleaning up in exchange for something.” Lucy was really digging.
Ida’s eyes narrowed. “In exchange for what?”
“I want to learn how to fight and protect myself. You seem like you would know all that from when you were in the military.”
Ida’s raised her eyebrows. “You want me to teach you how to fight, and you’ll unpack my stuff, clean my house, and do my gardening?”
“Yeah. It would be a great bargain for you,” said Lucy hoping her offer was good enough.
“I’ll think about it. Look, I have a lot going on right now. Things are…complicated.” Ida shifted, about to close the door.
“Wait.” Lucy put a hand on the door. “I have something for you.” She dug into the pockets of her shoulder bag, searching. She pulled out a small red flyer and offered it to Ida. “It’s for an art show at a street market.”
Lucy waited while Ida took the flyer and eyed it with one eyebrow raised. “My paintings will be on display! It would be awesome if you could come by.”
Lucy’s smile was contagious, and Ida couldn’t stop a small smile in return. “I’ll think about it. Gotta go.”
“Ok, see ya,” said Lucy as the door closed.
Lucy skipped away on the path home, delighted that she had made progress. Lost in thought, she nearly ran into Paul, a neighborhood friend. He was on the wooded path outside an old abandoned basketball court where he sometimes loitered, smoking the occasional cigarette when he could score one.
They had briefly gone to the same high school before she was forced to find work to support her mother. Normally, she would say hello and goodbye, maybe hang for a minute, but this time he had convinced her to walk with him and listen to a story. There was something different about him today.
Lucy had always thought he was a good guy. They were both seventeen although she was his senior by six months.
With a convincing demeanor, Paul told her a strange story that couldn’t be believed. He claimed he’d been taken hostage in the main square of Spark City’s R Section, and shot by police. A lady had grabbed him and taken him to an alley. Paul wasn’t usually one to tell outlandish stories.
Lucy paced up a small hill, keeping an eye on the forested path ahead.
“But wait, I haven’t told you the best part,” said Paul as he matched her stride.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Paul, I don’t have time for this now. Catch you later, ok?” She hoped he would get the hint and leave her with her thoughts.
“She healed my gunshot wound with her bare hands! I don’t know how she did it. All I know was I was passing out, maybe I was passed out, and about to die. I saw white light and shit!”
By this time, Lucy had made it in view of her apartment building. She couldn’t wait to get home, check on her mom, and catch up on her painting.
Paul jogged in front of her and stopped, blocking her path. “Please. You gotta believe me.”
“What do you mean she healed you?” Lucy finally asked.
“I don’t know exactly.” There was less edge in Paul’s voice this time. “I mean, I think I was about to die, and she…” He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “…She saved my life.”
“No way. Where did you get shot? Let me see the wound.”
“I am not shitting you, I swear. But the wound—it’s gone, vanished, kaput.” Paul pulled his shirt up slightly above his belly to show her his left side, where he’d presumably been shot. Lucy inspected it and saw no scar or evidence of injury.
“Are you sure you didn’t take one of Jason Logan’s special mushrooms?” said Lucy with a smirk.
“Shut up.” Paul pulled his shirt down and looked away. “I knew nobody would believe me.”
“Who else have you told?” she asked.
“Nobody. I thought if anyone would believe me, maybe you would.” He looked at her. “You see things that other people don’t.”
“What?” Lucy laughed and punched his arm.
“No, really. With your painting and how you are. You’re different than other people. I thought you might believe me. Maybe we could find this lady again. I can’t get her out of my head. I’ve even had dreams about her.”
“Whoa. You like her,” Lucy teased.
He elbowed her gently. “Shut up. It’s not like that.” He turned to walk her to her building. “I just think she could help a lot of people.”
Chapter 10
Inside the dilapidated conservatory she now called home, Ida sat on an unopened wooden trunk that contained most of her scant belongings. Soldiers traveled light. She hadn’t bothered unpacking.
She could get used to looking at the high, dome-shaped ceiling. The look was old, like something out of a history book, and it suited her. Fading sunlight managed to stream in through the glass window panes where overgrown ivy hadn’t yet spread to cover them.
She pulled out her phone and the small device Gatz had given her, and connected them. She jumped slightly, startled as the device suddenly projected a holographic display in her front room.
Ida saw an image of a well-coiffed, attractive man in a suit walking along a downtown Spark City avenue on a sunny day. He began speaking:
Welcome to Spark City—a city of the future. Your future.
Journey with me on a tour of the city.
I’m Vance Drem, Spark City’s mayor.
My vision for Spark City is clear: A future that matters.
#1 on my agenda is safety.
The video showed Vance entering a factory building where machines were at work building police robots on assembly lines.
That’s right, Spark City will be the first city in the world to have a police force made entirely of androids.
Why does this matter? Because cybernetic police are never biased and never corrupt.
In Spark City, you can rest assured that you are safe.
Our officers will work around the clock, never needing rest to keep you safe.
Suddenly the scene showed a little blonde girl riding a tricycle on the street. She rode by a gang of rough-looking men who saw her and followed her. Just as they were about to catch up with her, she stopped at the feet of a tall robot. She looked up, and the robot cop looked at her and touched her head.
The robot gently moved her aside and said, “Men, stop where you are. This is Spark City police.” Ida watched as the men slowly started backing away, looking around for escape, only to see there were four other robot police standing at the ready nearby.
Vance entered the frame:
You see, dangerous situations like this can be avoided.
Because my police force is never tired and doesn’t need food or fuel, they are always on.
My vision is to have police on every corner to keep you, the fine citizens of Spark City safe. And keep the criminals locked up.
Vote Vance Drem for Spark City mayor.
A close shot of a handsome, smiling Vance finished the ad:
I’m Vance Drem, and I approve this ad.
There was a few seconds pause before another scene appeared. It was the downtown square where Ida had been. The footage was amateur—probably captured by an onlooker from the crowd. The scene showed several robot soldiers moving from the street onto the sidewalk, then into the square. They were firing their weapons into the crowd with no regard for anyone. Ida saw a woman get strafed with bullets and fall. The footage suddenly ended when the person filming ran for safety.
Gatz had said this was an education on the mayor. From what she could tell, the police force that Vance Drem said would keep citizens safe were mindlessly killing innocent bystanders.
The mayor was not only bad news, but he was also deadly. Could he be stopped, and what was Gatz up to? Ida knew that if she were found with this footage, she would wind up arrested or dead. She went outside and burned the device in a small fire.
Chapter 11
The minutes ticked by in the small, dimly lit Spark City General hospital room. The nurses had given Vance a private room and asked his men to wait outside. They caved when Vance flashed his smile and told them they looked lovely today, and surely his men could sit quietly in the room—that he was never without them, and needed them for moral support.
Jennifer, one of the nurses on duty, was a blonde in her forties and seemed suspicious of the mayor. Vance thought she might have once been pretty, but years of physically demanding hospital work had worn her down.
He was in luck. There was a young, mid-twenties nurse named Katelyn. With long, dark brown hair, she was petite and fit, and Vance knew he would have her in bed that night. She hadn’t been able to pick her mouth off the floor or string a sentence together after discovering she was attending to the handsome, single mayor.
“You dropped this, Miss,” said Vance as he leaned over from his seated position on the hospital bed and retrieved a small bag of liquid that Katelyn had dropped. She managed to utter a squeaky “Thanks” as she smiled, blushed, and stood there unsure what to do.
“The drip machine, Kate,” said
nurse Jennifer between her teeth. Vance enjoyed his power trip and that he could shut down the hospital on a whim if he felt like it.
Vance smiled at Katelyn as he laid back on the hospital bed. “You are lovely. You remind me of my mother.”
The young nurse smiled, seeming to regain some composure at his compliment. “Does your mother live in Spark City, Mr. Mayor?”
“Indeed.” Vance smiled. “My mother is very dear to me. She lives in a safe place, very close to me.”
Nurse Jennifer pulled the IV machine next to his bedside and started to move toward him.
“Can she do that instead?” Vance nodded his head in Katelyn’s direction.
Jennifer looked pissed as she slid the machine toward the younger nurse and stepped aside to observe.
Katelyn took over, hands shaking slightly as she touched the skin of his right arm, tying off his bicep with a band, and searching for a vein. She glanced at his other side, not allowing her gaze to linger on the cybernetic forearm and hand. “Tell us about your mother,” she said.
Vance caressed her arm gently and moved closer. “My mother has the truest heart you can imagine, but she had a tough life.”
The young nurse fumbled with the needle preparation as he continued.
“She was a young mother, and it was not her choice to have me. She was raped when she was only fourteen.”
Katelyn’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Nurse Jennifer relaxed her stance slightly in the corner.
“So, she left me on the steps of the Dresden House orphanage when I was an infant. She was poor and couldn’t take care of me.”
“Oh, goodness,” said Katelyn. “I’m so sorry. How awful.”
Nurse Jennifer moved closer to the bed. “I’m sorry too. I heard Dresden was a bad place-rough. It burned down about ten years ago, right?”
Vance nodded. “Don’t be sorry.” Vance fixed his penetrating blue eyes on Jennifer. “The orphanage shaped who I am today. I came out stronger. I found those men who hurt my mother and they were punished.” His thoughts flickered back to the years he had spent tracking down the men who had assaulted and abused his mother. He hadn’t known which was his father, and he hadn’t cared. He wanted one thing-to watch them bleed to death slowly.
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