The Sapphire Shadow

by James Wake

  “They’re tabi. You know, ninja socks,” Tess said.

  “You mean like in one of your silly cartoons?”

  “I know you know it’s called anime, you dick.”

  Nadia tried to hold in a laugh, jerking her legs and pulling one foot down, scraping as it took the ceiling tile with it. She hung for a moment, arms flailing, before the tile on her other foot gave way as well.

  Tess broke her fall, yelping as they were crushed together in a heap. A cloud of dust from the ceiling sifted onto them.

  “That was pretty cool,” Tess said.

  “Ugh, it’s in my hair!” Nadia made a few delicate coughs, making no effort to climb off of Tess as she slapped the offending dust out of her ponytail.

  * * *

  She felt the repaired patches on her sweater. Tiny spots of stiffness, sticking inward whenever she moved, a small hitch in her otherwise flawless garment. Nadia couldn’t wait to finish the replacement.

  Flashlight beams swept across the room below her, two guards walking by without a word. They passed through an aisle lined on either side with yellow caution bands, bold warnings not to step into the lab area proper. Nadia held her breath, her hands stuck to the corrugated metal ceiling, her feet braced against a steel beam. Even if they’d looked up, she was nestled among exposed vents and pipes and conduits. Nothing but a shadow in darkness.

  Gone. She let her breath out.

  “Not yet,” Tess said in her ears.

  She heard it seconds before she saw it. A small drone hovered by, above the guards’ eye level but still well below her. It passed by without remark.

  “Cameras?” Nadia whispered.

  “Looping. Place is yours for a few minutes.”

  She was still getting used to traversing ceilings; walls were easier to wrap her spatial sense around. She slithered over the beam and made her way to the closest wall, still having trouble unsticking the soles of her tabi every few feet.

  She lowered herself down the wall, her soft shoes touching down and spreading out on the cold, spotless lab floor. Large open cubicles surrounded her, filled with workbenches and consoles and electronic components she couldn’t begin to identify. Wireframe maps of the rest of the area hovered around the edges of her goggles.

  Nadia crept down the aisle, checking around corners with her wrist camera no matter how safe she supposedly was. Her goggles panned over a workbench with an assortment of slender lengths of metal arranged in careful rows.

  “Whoa. No way,” Tess said.

  “Something catch your eye?”

  “It’s fine. I don’t wanna bother fencing physical stuff.”

  Nadia paused, eyeing the…whatever they were. One was mounted in a vise that stuck up from the bench top, a narrow rectangle with a sharp edge facing up.

  “Still pulling files,” Tess said. “Keep moving. I might need a hookup down the hall. Could save me a few minutes piercing through their segregation.”

  “Are you certain you wouldn’t like one of these?” Nadia said, picking one up. It was light and stiff, the size and shape of one of the drafting straightedges she’d used back in college.

  “No, no way. Keep moving.”

  Pursing her lips, Nadia ran her fingers down the smooth metal. If it was metal. She wasn’t entirely certain. Without another word, she swung her bag off her back and stuffed several of the curious objects inside.

  “You’re such a weirdo,” Tess muttered.

  “Pour toi. You’re welcome.”

  “I swear I’m swiping that bag from you next time you go out.”

  * * *

  “I’m not kidding. Put them on,” Tess said. “Please?”

  Nadia heaved a loud sigh as she put on the safety goggles, trying not to worry that they might ruin her hair. Tess was wearing a pair—ridiculously oversized for her head—over her lens-less glasses.

  Tess had already relocated her practice dummy to the lab, the hint finally taken after many, many remarks from Nadia about the noise. Now they both were enveloped by the constant whirring of the two printers as Tess readied whatever she was holding.

  Nadia recognized one of the edged lengths of metal she had stolen, attached to a crude handle with wires and battery packs haphazardly taped all over it.

  “And you said you wanted to take my bag away.”

  “Still valid,” Tess said, popping a few wires out and attaching them in different spots. “I’ve wasted way too many hours playing with these things.”

  Something popped and hummed—a slow, high-pitched whine crawling out from the thing in Tess’s hands and rising in Nadia’s ears.

  “Okay, active.”

  “And what is it I’m supposedly about to be amazed by?” Nadia said.

  “Just watch.” Tess squared up her stance and raised the gadget above her head, just as Nadia had watched her do many times before with a bamboo sword.

  The mannequin, still wearing a black APS helmet, stared back at her.

  Tess swung.

  It was a gunshot. Nadia’s entire body recoiled, her hands flying up to shield her face. Silence followed, and when she carefully lowered her hands, Tess was sitting in front of her holding nothing but a handle with shattered remains sticking out of it.

  “Whoa,” Tess said, not moving, staring at the thing in her hands. “You okay?”

  “Am I all right?” Nadia said. She gave Tess a quick once-over with her eyes, detected no blood, then hovered closely with her hands outstretched. Shards of metal lay scattered on the floor around them, some of them glowing and vibrating with malice.

  A particularly menacing-looking chunk was sticking out of Tess’s prosthetic.

  “Tess?” Nadia said, wincing. She tapped her forearm a few times, her eyes stuck on the dull orange shard.

  “Oh. Huh,” Tess said, still not moving. “This is why I was being a bitch about the goggles.”

  “Goggles,” Nadia scoffed. “You’re lucky you’re alive. What is, er…was that thing?”

  “Experimental composite,” Tess said. Breathlessly, reverently. “Capable of withstanding extreme high-frequency vibrations.”

  Nadia spared a glance at the poor mannequin and was taken aback to see a clean slice extending a few inches down into the top of the helmet, the edges melted and leaking steam.

  “Damn it,” Tess said. “I really, really wanted that to work. I’ll get it. Only a matter of time.”

  * * *

  They took turns on the futon.

  There were phases like this, the two barely speaking for days. Work was cut out for each of them. Plans were drawn. Nothing to do now but put in the hours.

  Nadia would fetch coffee, letting one hand trail Tess’s shoulder as she passed her friend, hunched over at a bench and typing away in the air.

  Tess would heat up instant food, trying to set a place for each of them among the clutter, disposable chopsticks placed just so.

  Once, after a particularly long, grueling stretch of hours, they’d both gotten up, wandered aimlessly to stretch their legs, then gone for the futon at the same time.

  They’d both staggered to a halt, making tired eye contact, then very violently breaking said eye contact.

  Nadia insisted that Tess take the futon, and of course Tess had insisted that Nadia take it. Nadia then pointed out there was a real bed in the office, and Tess of all people deserved some time in the Pass out from Exhaustion Suite.

  Tess had pointed out in turn that it was Nadia’s office, after all, so she deserved the real bed. To which Nadia had responded that since it was technically her office, she felt entitled to make the rules, the first of which was Tess taking the real bed, effective immediately.

  Naturally Tess dove onto the futon and said, “There. Now you have to take the real bed. So there.”

  Nadia slumped, unwilling to admit defeat but slinking off anyway with a spiteful ”Ugh. Fine.” The re
al bed—a queen—welcomed her, letting her body sink into its perfectly firm mattress. It was lovely.

  And Nadia lay there, staring at the ceiling, wide-awake.

  * * *

  Nadia felt only half herself. Her right arm and hand looked as they should, sheathed in lovely black synthetic fibers with a glove to match. Her left was bare and human—her own pale skin, impressive as it was.

  The bracer was new, a slim length of black that covered most of her right forearm. Wires crept out of it, taped to her arm and ending in a pouch that lay snug at the small of her back.

  “I thought you said it was ready?” She walked over to where Tess was tinkering away at one of her benches.

  Tess held up a finger. “One more minute.”

  “I’ve been ready,” Nadia said, sighing and rolling her eyes and delighting at what it must look like on her new goggles.

  Tess had laid out a row of beakers, each full of clear liquid with something solid soaking within. To Nadia, they looked like small panes of glass or perhaps ice. Tess took one out with her right hand, waved it dry in the air, and added it to the pile she had created.

  Each pane held a slight white tinge, maybe a touch of glow. Quite subtle. Nadia found herself staring, felt her unprotected left hand creep closer to one of the beakers.

  “Don’t touch that!”

  Nadia’s hand froze. Tess pulled out another one, waved it dry, and placed it with the rest. Only now did Nadia notice that her partner’s left hand was wrapped in a sturdy glove, layers of protective rubber in bright hazard orange.

  “There’s, like, eight kinds of acid in there,” Tess said, wrapping the pile of panes into a single cell.

  “I thought you said this was an electrical countermeasure,” Nadia said, running her fingers down the band on her right forearm. “Is that why this one has been taking so long? Because I must say, acid burns sound rather gauche.”

  “Solid-state batteries,” Tess said, getting up and attaching the cell to the back of Nadia’s belt. “That’s what’s been taking so long. Unless you only want it to work once and drain everything else you’re wearing.”

  Nadia nodded. “Acceptable, I suppose.”

  “Ready?”

  Nadia held out her right arm. Tess snapped her fingers and the bracer turned on. At least Nadia assumed it was on. She couldn’t feel or see any difference.

  Tess held a length of bare wire in her glove-shielded left hand. She tapped it to Nadia’s arm, which sent a shower of sparks leaping out.

  That Nadia felt. Every hair on her body stood at attention, a peculiar tingling sensation creeping along the edges of her senses. The HUD in her goggles flickered.

  “Whoa,” Tess said, “Your eyes went all crazy. Hmm. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, all…flickery. Why are you wearing those anyway?”

  “Why not?”

  * * *

  “Why did you do that?” Tess cried in her ear.

  “You said we needed to test it!” Nadia screamed between desperate breaths, sprinting toward the train platform. Although it was nearly deserted at this hour she still heard the whining roar of a train dragging itself to life.

  “I didn’t mean you should attack a police officer!”

  “Self-defense!” Nadia said, dodging past an Auktoris security stooge. She skipped up the wall past him, jumping off and crawling along the ceiling as he yelled at her to stop. “He saw me! I had no choice!”

  The rest of them were catching up, a cop or two flanked by monorail security guards, yet another division of Auktoris Private Security. Nadia swung down, diving off the ceiling to land back on her feet. She took off toward the train; its cars were already zipping by so fast that the few people inside were a blur.

  “Oh, shit! On the left! To your right too. Oh, my God! Look out!”

  “Yes, I see him!” Nadia slid, ducking under the shock prod swinging through the air. Her forearm tapped the guard’s leg, sending him collapsing to the ground with a shriek. But still, she was surrounded. Nowhere left to go.

  Nowhere to go but the train. She took a running leap and caught the side of the train with her gloves.

  It felt like someone had ripped her arms out of their sockets. A strangled yelp tore out of her throat.

  “What? What happened? Are you dead?”

  “Not yet,” she said, pressing herself against the side of the train. The guards and cops chasing her shrank instantly, flying away from her as the wind threatened to shove her off the side of the car.

  * * *

  Nadia’s shoulders still ached. It was her first night back at La Garrud after a week of convalescence, sitting and pouting with foam braces wrapped around each shoulder. After much debate, Tess had allowed her to do HiL testing on the treadmill for a couple of days before rejoining her class.

  Strange, how quickly one could form a habit. Nadia had wanted to practice again so badly that it bordered on need.

  She made sure to make up for lost time. Nadia had stayed long after the last of the other students had left, trying Aleksa’s patience as they ran through drills over and over and over. Now she was alone in the elevator again.

  She pressed the button for the ground floor. She waited.

  “I know you’re watching me.”

  The elevator control panel flickered in answer.

  so good to see you again

  “Hmm,” Nadia said, staring down her nose at the little cartoon cat face on the screen.

  it’s been a while. i was worried.

  The screen changed to a clip from a security camera, a slim figure in black jumping and catching a train—she even saw her goggles showing her eyes shoot wide open as the train ripped her out of the air.

  quite a stunt. how many lives do you have left, i wonder?

  Nadia smiled, as menacing as the face on the screen. “Still just the one.”

  shall i lend you some of mine?

  “I do so love your flair for the dramatic. Do you workshop these lines beforehand?”

  dramatic flair. you are one to talk.

  Clips from news feeds flickered over the display. “DataVault In-Secure Storage, Breached for the First Time.” “Masked Terrorist Strikes Again, Infiltrates Praytheon-Martin Labs.” “Monorail Mayhem! Police Officer Wounded as Terrorist Escapes.”

  Nadia’s eyes lit up with glee, her heart racing. She couldn’t help herself, almost swooning like she had after each caper, seeing her exploits denounced in public to the tune of hundreds of thousands of eager views.

  have you given any thought to your sobriquet?

  Text from an op-ed scrolled out, expressing curiosity at how this criminal was said to crawl up walls like a spider.

  “Eww,” Nadia said, shaking her head furiously.

  A clip from a popular streamer was next, expressing admiration for a certain black-clad thief, desperately wondering if she could be called “The Raven.”

  “Better,” Nadia said, but shook her head again. “Too Goth. Too Poe.”

  Another feed, this time referring to her as merely “That Cat Burglar.” Cheshire’s face peeked over the corner of the video, winking over a cheeky grin.

  “You would like that one, wouldn’t you?” Nadia said. “Hard pass.”

  The screen went blank before lighting up with a pair of glowing blue eyes, her beautiful goggles exactly as she saw them in the mirror.

  found it. they remembered your first job at the jewelry store.

  Nothing followed. Nadia was aching to know. “Well?”

  pleasant surprise. trust me.

  Nadia felt a smile sneak out, tearing it off ruthlessly. A long silence lingered as she scolded herself for becoming fond of these conversations.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  we both want the same thing.

  “I very much doubt tha
t.”

  yet you’ve been very helpful to me.

  The screen changed again, showing text and photos and documents blinking by faster than Nadia could process—dozens, then hundreds, speeding up to thousands.

  “That’s…you’ve been buying up all the files? What, might I ask, do you plan to do with all that?”

  perhaps i’m just a collector.

  The cat face returned, glowing eyes and that same sneering, leering grin.

  but what good is a collection if no one sees it?

  Nadia narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she tried to remember what Tess had told her: anonymous buyers, data brokers, all her stolen goods copied and shifted and let out into the wilderness to fly where they might.

  Nadia had never looked at any of it.

  “What have you found?”

  No words. Only the fanged smile of Cheshire staring back at her. After a moment, the cat winked.

  The elevator door opened, and the panel returned to normal.

  * * *

  It felt good. More than good. Exhilarating. Her heart pounding with delight at the chase, at how quick she was now, at the angry barking of Officer Jackson hot on her heels.

  Nadia vaulted over a railing and dropped through the middle of the spiral staircase, the fibers in her tights handling the landing with aplomb. That would buy her a few seconds.

  “Jammer’s been ready,” Tess said.

  “Save it.” More sirens approaching. Nadia sprinted flat out, a set of doors in front of her wide open and waiting. There it was: the solid thud of Jackson’s boots hitting the ground behind her, much farther back than before.

  Two police hoverbikes were parked outside, their lights flashing blue and red.

  “Those bikes are locked, I assume?” Nadia said, high and forced through gulping breaths.

  “On it.”

  Her feet slapped the hard pavement, stinging through her soft soles.