by Jett Lang
Despite the anticipation, Queen felt weightless. With Chamber gone, she could finally say goodbye to that reminder of her mistakes. The past would stay where it was, unable to dog her. Not even her wariness could dilute her renewed purpose. She was earning a living.
“We should go,” Ellie said, strapping on her pack. “While we can still lose ourselves in the crowd.”
“Just a couple midnight hikers. You know, nothing suspicious.” Jack rummaged in one of the backpacks for a bottle of water. He made a show of imbibing half the contents.
Whatever he was about, Queen was not a supporter. Ellie continued ignoring him, carded open the autodoor and made for the staircase. Queen thought Jack might not follow them, and it was not without an air of reluctance that he did manage to exit the unit and join her at the foot of the steps. Ellie was already on the next landing. She expected him to push by, but he took her by the hand and guided her on their descent.
“We got this,” he said.
“Got what?”
“This.”
“Oh, don’t wig out on me again, Jack. We don’t need that. Not now.”
He half laughed, gripped her hand gently. “Maybe you want me to make an appointment, huh? Fill in a time slot where you’re not busy?”
“Do we need to sort something out?”
“’Course not. We’re peachy keen, sweet pea,” he replied in his worst West Talon drawl.
He continued leading her down the stairs with a ridiculous grin on his face. For a moment, the idea of pushing him over the banister wasn’t completely unreasonable. An express trip from five stories up might do him some good, clear his head. Right before it cracked open on the ugly, taut weave of cyan carpet.
She stared at the nape of his neck, where the micro circuitry along his scalp swooped around and connected. She’d seldom worked with another Liquidationist in the few years she’d been active, but the three or four she’d met had all sported invisible hardware. No vein or wirework. No complexity of any kind embedded in their flesh. At least one of her co-workers had been senior in the organization, an instructor. Not a single wire on that guy. Jack was operating with the same augs, undoubtedly, but chose to leave his on show.
He took after his father, Murdoc, visually and emotionally; the inescapable mimicry likely didn’t sit well with Jack. Was it his father that got him into the killing business? A special case for the son of a man watching everything that transpired in the desert jewel of New Paradise? She couldn’t answer any of it, regardless of the time she’d spent with him. His outrage must have stemmed from a loss greater than a career: a loss of face, of identity. An identity that separated him from his silver-spoon upbringing. Or brought him closer to it.
A story below, Ellie called up to them. “Hustle!”
With questionable enthusiasm, Jack tugged her hand and led her down the stairs.
※
In a blur the terraced gardens of glass and light were gone, and the edge of the city lay before them in all its autumn vibrancy. A small township surrounded the station where the train came to a silent halt, and many windows were lit around the town square; bars and shops lively with the commerce of drunks and midnight consumers. Under the streetlamps, the shadows of suburbanites flocked together.
When the doors slipped open and she stepped off the train, she looked back along the raised tracks. The brightness of hundred-story malls and penthouse festivities, the superstructures dedicated to human decadence. The world, at peace for so long after the Wars, had remembered the way to a comfortable death. The lights and chatter which would normally have delighted her seemed wearisome, trivial. That triviality was deafening in the glass-domed enclosure.
Departing the platform, the trio of killers waded through the crowd and boarded an empty elevator. Onward to the forest. She awaited those dripping tree branches and the wet earth with something like excitement; she craved quiet, and solitude. She stole a look at Jack. Unreadable. Trying to predict his motives was exhausting. She closed her eyes. Fought to open them. Why they couldn’t just take a hovercraft back to Syntheia was beyond her. Maybe she meant to kill them after all. Maybe Ellie was taking them deep into the woods to finish the job.
Her superior jabbed the downward arrow, and the elevator descended with a lurch.
※
Their trail meandered westward out of town. LED orbs hovered over the hard-packed dirt path and swaying foliage. Roughly every half mile there was a luminescent sign dictating the park rules, ‘No Cigarettes’ and ‘No Feeding the Animals’ chief among them. Not that there were any animals around to help break this policy, as far as Queen could tell. Other signs let them know what they were walking away from: sugar maples, witch hazels, and smoke bushes. Early-morning runners passed them, paid no attention to anything but the path ahead. In the gloom, the white spheres of light cut sharp shadows over the travelers. Jack zipped the front of his jacket, stuffed his hands into his pockets. A little later, he was trying to bury his neck and chin in the collar.
“Should have bought a thermal coat,” Ellie said. She considered the rustling forest, added, “Not like it will matter soon.”
“What’s that mean?” Jack said, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Reflexively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. A subtle move, almost invisible in the near-dark.
“Pickup in half an hour. Think you can tough it out till then?”
He relaxed, but not by much. “Yeah. I’ll be good.”
“Consider implants?”
“Huh?”
“Cold-weather conditioning. Subdermal padding. Procedure is safer than a couple years ago.”
Queen touched Jack’s arm, moved forward so she was closer to Ellie. “They fixed the circulation issues?”
“Layering is thinner. Had mine installed last week.” The woman stretched her arms out, pulled them back in. “No complications, usual soreness aside.”
“I heard the layering restricted movement, but you don’t seem to have that problem.”
Ellie glanced in her direction, then back to the woods. “Reworked the meshing so the muscle and skin can breathe. Now they’re raking in that private sector money. Hear that Prosperity security might even make it mandatory by next year. Strictly grapevine.”
“Right.” A portly woman in running shoes trundled around them. Once she was out of earshot, Queen continued: “Have you been up north for long?”
“Fishing.”
“I’m just trying to get to know my superior.”
“Results aren’t in yet,” Ellie said. “Wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“There’s no comfort in certainty, now, is there?” Jack chimed in from behind them.
“Lot of comfort. Though, if comfort’s what you’re after, there are different jobs.”
He laughed ruefully. “Oh sure, plenty of jobs alright. Ain’t that right, Queen? We’re turnin’ ‘em down left and right.”
“Suggest you keep all that to yourself when we get home. Venting now is a good call.”
“Thanks for your permission, sister.”
“Boss has her eye on you, Jack, and not to your benefit. I were her, I’d be looking for excuses to cut ties.”
“Think you’re fast enough with a knife to do it?”
Queen shot him a look. “Jack.”
“I am,” Ellie said, “but we need experienced people.”
“So you’re vouchin’ for us.”
She let out an irritated sigh. “Not a habit of mine to commend people who don’t deserve it.”
“What do you make a habit out of? Slayin’ your lovers?”
“Jack!”
He chuckled. “We’re havin’ a conversation here is all.”
Ellie stopped, turned to face him. “You do what I say. We all do what Syntheia says.”
A gaggle of brightly-clothed men and women broke and flowed around them, immersing the three in inanity for a moment. Did I tell you what Jerry told me last Tuesday? No, what? Well, he said I should see a doctor about that g
rowth on my left ankle. I thought it was the right ankle? Oh no, but he said I should have that checked out, too. Can never be too careful, he says. That’s Jerry for you!
On and on these little exchanges. She hadn’t expected so many people to be out so late, but it was perfect cover for the three of them. The running group reunited in front of the trio and was told to pace themselves for the next mile. A whistle blew and they were off, the out-of-breath maintaining a minimum speed at the group’s tail end.
Queen wiped her palms on her jeans, took a deep breath. She thought Jack and Ellie were too busy staring each other down to pay any attention to her. She stepped away from them to give herself some space, and Ellie took it as a cue to leave. They carried on in silence.
They went by four more warning signs before Ellie said, “Here.”
She forked to the right, deeper into the kaleidoscopic woods along a small, overgrown path. The LEDs were only powerful enough to illuminate the main pathway, leaving the offshoot in the dark. Ellie’s flashlight blinked on. She swatted aside a russet-covered branch. Disappeared behind it. She waved her beam at them.
“Ladies first,” Queen said.
“You’re a fuckin’ riot.”
“Someone has to lighten the mood.” She fell in step behind him.
“Tryin’ to get all buddy-buddy with our new manager is what it looks like.”
She sighed, and it was still shaky after being surrounded by the crowd of runners. He turned and stroked her arm.
“Listen,” he whispered. “We can take Ellie right now and head to the pickup. Say she got called away, told us to go on. We can deal with Syntheia on the other side.”
“What?”
“You were right, we couldn’t do anythin’ about Wayne. Hell, we couldn’t do anythin’ about Chamber. We didn’t know Ellie was goin’ to shoot him in throat. But we can do somethin’ about Syntheia.”
“Jack, listen to yourself.”
Ellie was signaling back and forth with the flashlight, probably wondering what the hold-up was, where they’d gone. Jack took Queen’s arm and pulled her deeper into the trees, away from Ellie’s light.
“Syntheia ordered the death of two of the biggest players in our economy.” Dry rustle of leaves, his footsteps whispering through. “What do you think’ll happen next? She just runs both companies? The conglomerates won’t like that, no matter what Ellie says about the willfully ignorant.”
“Killing Syntheia won’t fix anything.”
“She can’t run those companies, she’s not clever enough. Look at all the mistakes she’s made already; killin’ her father, her brother, her partner. She can’t pay away that kinda suspicion, and she can’t fix the power vacuum she’s made.” He turned to face her. “You said we should do somethin’ about it, and this is our chance.”
Queen looked through the trees for Ellie’s flashlight. It moved in swinging silver beams towards the small path. Jack pulled her farther away.
“We don’t have to kill Ellie. Maybe she’s resentful after what happened with Wayne, maybe if we bide our time we can–”
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? That woman is Syntheia’s loyal little bitch. She murdered a man she cared about, who cared about her. Maybe they loved each other.” His black eyes glistened in the dark. “She threw that away for a job. You couldn’t do that.”
She looked away from him. He yanked her arm, shook her.
“Queen. You couldn’t do that.”
She felt his eyes all over her, trying to make her meet his gaze. He was searching her for certainty. He squeezed her arm tighter when he didn’t find it.
His voice was gravelly when he spoke, thick. “Were you ever on my side?”
“I just want us to have a future, Jack. Away from all the politics. We can go to Ellie, get some sleep. You’re tired.”
He let her go. “That’s the choice you’re makin’, huh? You’re pickin’ Syntheia and her insane business plan over doin’ somethin’ right? Over me?”
“Don’t make me choose.”
“Oh I am, sister, and it has to be right now. If you’re not with me, I’ll treat you like all the rest of ‘em.”
She looked up at him. He let out a little laugh, took a step back from her.
She drew in a sharp breath, started to shout. “Ellie–”
His fist met her stomach and she doubled over. All the air rushed from her lungs. She gasped for it, tried to suck it in, and his boot slammed into her ribs. She cried out when she hit the ground, the pain in her side sending her into a panic. Jack’s eyes were murderous in their intent, his brows knotted, his jaw clenched. She wasn’t anything to him now. She wrapped an arm around her ribcage, propped herself up with the other. Tried to wheeze out a plea.
White-hot pain sent her to the forest floor again, his second kick coming faster, harder. Taste of blood coppery in her mouth, smell of dead leaves drawn in with racking breaths. Black-red spots swam in the leaves, the dirt. Her head pounded.
He’s going to kill you if you don’t get on your feet.
With one elbow and one knee, she crawled forward to the white-lit trunks, so close and dark. She had to reach Ellie, whose light flickered back and forth, then went out. Everything hurt so exquisitely, the agony so foreign. Had she ever felt like this? Had she ever been in danger like this?
On your feet!
She tried to scream for Ellie, but her ribs choked the sound into a whimper.
Jack stomped her flat onto the forest surface. Leaves and dying grass crunched noisily underneath her. In her dimming consciousness, she was thankful his boot came down on the small of her back instead of the middle of her spine. The pressure would have snapped off a rib. He could have crippled her. If he didn’t kill her. Each shallow breath was sharp and painful, and it was all she could do to keep inhaling. The weight on her back worsened as he leaned down, closer and farther away all at once.
Somewhere in the darkness above, an owl hooted three times. Musical, calming. A mating call.
“Well,” Jack whispered, breathing in his own heavy breaths. “Guess that’s it for us, huh?”
She coughed, spat out blood. He took that as an answer. Relieved the pressure from her back. She listened to his steps as they grew quieter and quieter, until all she could hear was her blood pounding in her ears and her breath coming in high, desperate little rasps. Under her anger, her pain; under the pain, her heart ached.
On your feet, Queen.
The owl said its peace to another nearby. With teeth gritted, she started to crawl toward the trees again. She needed to get there. Find Ellie. Warn Syntheia. Never mind the black-red pulsations that clouded her eyes, or the vise around her chest. She had to go.
“Queen?” a female voice said in front of her, cloaked by a row of darkened maples. She yelped when the woman put her hands on her.
“It’s Ellie. See Jack left.” A cone of brightness forced Queen to look away. Ellie kneeled beside her, checked the damage. “Can you walk? Just nod.”
Queen did. Ellie did, too.
“Got a little under two miles to go. Going to carry you. It’ll hurt.”
If she wasn’t right about anything else, Ellie was right about that.
※
Queen awoke expecting the starless sky of the forest, but saw instead the unfocused interior roof of a luxury hovercraft. Her jacket was blanketed over her and the pain in her ribs wasn’t as crippling as before. She could breathe, even if it was only in deliberately slow inhalations. Cool air circulated over her face and chest. Underneath the jacket was the bandage work of someone at least semi-competent. Ice wrapped in a cloth pressed against her side. She looked around. Ellie, talking to the co-pilot over a half raised partition.
“Three hours, maybe four,” he said. The beginnings of a pine forest came in fast in his window. Speed, altitude, and GPS lay translucent over a misty, mountainous dawn.
“No faster?”
“Not without strapping her in. If you’d told us she was–”
/>
Ellie shook her head. “There wasn’t time.”
“So what happened? Someone beat the shit out of her, obviously. Isn’t she running some heavy duty augs, too?”
He slid a piece of holographic information over from the pilot. Didn’t check on it. Probably one of those guys that needed something to do with his hands when he spoke.
“Ambushed on the path.”
“An interception crew?”
“Tourists. Drunk. Out for some fun in the sticks.”
“And the other one? Where’s he?”
“Ran while we were struggling,” Ellie pushed a hand through her hair. “Drunks ran, too.”
“Shit.” The co-pilot let out a low whistle. “You look for him?”
“Yes,” Ellie said, sharper than before. “She needed help. We needed to go.”
“Hey, I’m trying to make my report is all,” the co-pilot said. “You say you looked, then you looked.”
“Long night.” Ellie squeezed his shoulder. His black-mirror helmet bobbed once in a nod.
“Yeah, I hear ya,” he muttered. “Tourists with that kind of hardware, though. Makes you wonder why they sell to normal citizens.”
Ellie glanced over to Queen and withdrew her hand from his shoulder. “Talk later.”
“Sure,” the co-pilot said, and raised the elaborate partition. Leather like the seats, frosted glass. Queen guessed the soundproofing was top notch. Not that she was going to take any chances and discuss what had actually happened, not here. Not yet.
Ellie slid herself over the length of the side-seating. “You heard?”
“Three or four hours,” Queen said.
“How you feeling?”
“Better than I was.”
The woman lifted the jacket and reached for the icy cloth, pressed it against the worst bruises. Queen winced.
“All that blood really brought out your eyes.”
Queen blinked at her.
“Not great at bedside manner.”
“Valiant effort.”
Ellie set the jacket back. “You’ll be alright once a real doc checks you out.”
“I’m sure. Where’d the ice come from?”
“Oh, minibar. Want a drink?”
Queen shook her head. Ellie raked her slim fingers over the knees of her jeans and settled against the leather seat, sported a thoughtful frown.
