“Aurora told me the city police would ask for me. Many will die if I don’t go.” She squirmed around to face Karina, whispering at her sister’s ear. “I will be okay.”
“I don’t like this,” said Father. “She’s eleven years old. What possible need is there for the police to involve a child in their business?”
Althea looked down, picking at her dress. For a few seconds, she wished she could be an ordinary little girl with no powers, so people would stop asking her to do dangerous things. Before she could even sigh, she felt guilty for thinking such a thing.
“I assure you, sir, if we had an adult officer capable of doing what she can do…” He ran a hand over his hair and shifted his weight from leg to leg. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t understand it either. A clairvoyant unlike anyone I’ve ever met told me she’s critical to saving the lives of millions of people.”
“You’d believe someone who just says such things?” asked Father, waving.
“I do when they appear out of thin air in my apartment,” mumbled David.
“Kate,” said Althea. “She’s in danger.”
Officer Ahmed swallowed and covered his mouth with a hand. “They activated her, and I haven’t been able to get her on comm. I tried to contact her when I landed, but her car said she’d called in a MedVan, reporting officers down. Then she put out a call for backup and her car went dark.”
Althea squirmed, unable to get away from her sister. “Karina, please.” Reddening eyes threatened to erupt with tears. “People will die.”
“What if one of those people is you?” Karina cried first.
“If I don’t go, and all those people die, I’m bad.” Althea slipped loose and stood.
“You’re not even crying.” Karina grabbed her wrist. “Please don’t go away. Why aren’t you crying?”
“Because I know I’ll be home again soon.” Althea smiled.
Father approached and gathered his daughters to his chest. She sensed sadness and worry.
“I do not want to leave, but I must. Please understand.” After a minutes-long embrace, Althea gazed down as she walked to Officer Ahmed’s side. “I cannot let all those people die.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe,” said Officer Ahmed. “As would any of us.”
“There is no time,” said Althea, jogging for the door. “I love you, Father. I love you too, Karina.”
“That sounds so final.” Karina collapsed against Father, sobbing.
Althea spun on her toes and forced Karina’s sadness away. “Do not cry.”
Karina, looking neither sad nor happy, stared at the half-eaten burrito. “You didn’t finish your dinner.”
“Keep it for me.”
“Take it with you,” said Father, handing her the plate.
Althea apologized in her head to the powers that be for not using a fork. She grabbed the burrito with both hands, savaging it in three huge bites as she walked to the door. If what Aurora said was true, she’d probably need the food.
Once outside, Officer Ahmed broke into a hasty jog. Althea ran ahead of him, knowing he would go to the black flying car in the middle of town. She waited by the door until he caught up. He stopped, looking her up and down. Althea wiggled her toes and held her dress out to the side.
“Do they make small uniforms?”
He bit his lip.
“They do?” Althea gasped.
“Not duty uniforms. Cadet uniforms, for school.” He opened her door and ran to the other side. “You wouldn’t like them. They come with boots.”
Althea gave him a raspberry and got in.
“Don’t touch anything.”
She looked up as her door closed on its own and the console thrummed to life with light and a barely-audible electronic hum. Her bravery lasted only as long as ground remained visible out the window. Not two seconds airborne, she shut her eyes and whimpered.
“Althea? You’re afraid of flying?”
“Yes.”
David erupted with uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter.
Indignation pushed down her fear of heights, enough to let her eyes open. She squinted at him while maintaining a white-knuckled grip on the seat.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
Officer Ahmed coughed while wiping tears from his cheeks. He grasped the sticks and acceleration pushed her into the seat. His mood fell to worry, the kind of dread that comes with expecting he’d return to the city to find someone he cared deeply for dead.
“Something Kate said.” He breathed as if trying to calm himself. “She thought you were an angel.”
Althea gazed into her lap, at which point she remembered about seat belts and tried to figure out how to put hers on. “Why is angel funny?”
“Oh, it’s just myths. Artists always depict angels with big, feathery wings. They can fly. The idea of an angel being afraid of heights seemed so ironic.”
“I can’t fly.” She gave up on the seat belt and folded her hands in her lap. “I falled slow.”
“You… what?”
“When Miguel was hurt, I jumped off the cliff. He was going to die, and I didn’t care if I broke my legs. I had to help him.” She pulled her feet up, curling her toes over the edge of the seat. “I don’t know how I did, but I falled slow. I think I do have wings. They come out when they want. I don’t know why.”
“Uhm.”
Althea risked a peek out the window. The sight of the scrub racing past made her cringe away. “Too fast.”
“We’re safe.”
“I know.” She looked anywhere but at a window for a few minutes. “What has happened?”
“The shit hit the fan.” Officer Ahmed cringed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t swear in front of a kid.”
Althea blinked at him, glanced at the console, and reached forward to close the air vent before the stink came out.
47
Girl Problems
Aaron
Deep breaths helped rein in Aaron’s racing heart. Catching Kate’s nosedive had taken a lot of energy in a short amount of time. He shivered at the thought he’d almost dismissed Aurora’s unexplained demand he go to the roof. The sight of a Division 0 patrol craft hanging over the campus had been enough of a shock, but the officer pulling a suicide leap was the last thing he expected. The surprise of Archon’s sudden appearance almost cost Kate her life, but he’d managed to hold his focus long enough to bring her down safe.
Aaron glanced around, seeing no one but himself, Archon, and Kate. Her terror radiated, obvious even to someone without a shred of telempathic ability. He’d seen the aftereffect of Archon’s mental reprogramming. The toss-offs were nigh impossible to dislodge. Whatever he’d done to Talis looked as good as permanent. What he was doing to Kate would likely be the same. Aaron’s face reddened with anger.
I can’t let him rape her, even if it is the brain.
His gaze flicked to the stunrod on Kate’s belt. Telekinesis depressed the trigger on the handgrip at the same moment he lifted it out of its ring and touched the tip to Archon’s forehead. With a flare of blue light, the leader of the Awakened fell over backward. Kate dropped to her knees.
Bang.
Aaron’s right thigh exploded with a geyser of blood. He screamed like a little boy and fell to the side.
“I knew it!” yelled Melissa, climbing out from behind an air handler. Six pistols hovered around her. “You’re a fucking cop traitor.”
Aaron clutched at the wound, gasping for breath as involuntary tears wet his cheeks. He managed enough concentration to push her weapons askew as she fired them all. Melissa grunted, beginning another telekinetic duel. If the look on her face was any indication—this one would be to the death.
“Melissa, stop,” wheezed Aaron. “Your parents don’t hate you.”
She got angrier, adding tears to her growling.
“Ba, baba… baaa…” muttered Archon, twitching, grasping at nothing. “Kaaa. Waaa.”
Aaron glanced sideways at h
im, pushed Melissa’s guns hard, and dragged the stunrod into Archon’s ear. Another flash, and wispy threads of blue plasma danced out of his eyes; his body went limp. The teen ceased trying to fire the handguns and brought all her telekinetic strength to bear in aiming them. If not for the horrible pain in his leg, it would’ve been trivial to hold her off. At present, the task made him sweat.
“Melissa, listen to me. Archon reprogrammed them.”
“Liar,” she yelled. The girl snarled, clutching the sides of her head as if it would make her powers stronger.
“They want you to go home.” He gave her his desperate ‘you can trust me’ look reserved for a last ditch attempt to get a walker-away’s panties on the floor.
“Bullshit! They think I wanna kill them.” Her face went cherry red. Sadness, frustration at Aaron being stronger than her, and pain at her life warped her innocence into something out of a horror vid.
“Give me a sec?” asked Aaron.
“You’re a fucking traitor. Why should I listen?”
“You’ve been kidnapped and I’m a cop trying to help you. Three seconds. If you don’t like it, I’ll let you shoot me.”
“You’re crazy.”
“They know the coven thing was fake. Deal?”
“Three fucking seconds, dickbag.”
“Call them.” He pressed a hand on his thigh wound.
“What?”
“Call your bloody parents and ask them if they want you home.”
“You’re trying to mess with me. You want me to cry.”
“You’re already crying.” Aaron dragged himself into a sitting position. “Please?”
Melissa let go of her pistols, leaving them in Aaron’s telekinetic grasp. He relaxed and exhaled. Skittering metal behind him made him whirl, too late to stop the stunrod heading for his balls. The world flashed blue and white. A thousand tons of pain raced up his spine like the weight on a strongman game at a carnival and smashed into his brain. The tiny inconsequence of having his femur cracked by a bullet faded from awareness. Aaron realized he puked only by the smell of it.
Every muscle in his body clenched at once. Seconds, feeling like minutes, passed in paralytic agony. Finally, air made its way into his lungs and he howled. He wanted to cradle the boys, but couldn’t move. Sparks, or at least the feeling of sparks, raked across his testicles like a horde of fire ants. His back felt as though someone had replaced his spinal fluid with acid.
No, acid on fire… with needles.
“Aaron… I am so, so, disappointed in you.” Archon leaned over him, not that Aaron cared about anything at all at that moment other than his possibly exploded man-bits. “I thought you understood the gravity of what I am trying to do”—he paced about as if lecturing a class—”however, you clearly do not. I would like to think you better than a mere government stooge. Alas, due to your… issues, you are a liability I must deal with directly. Is there anything you would like me to pass along to Anna?”
Aaron risked a tentative grasp of his most sensitives, finding them too tender to make even the slightest contact.
“Nothing then?” asked Archon. “Nothing at all to say?”
“Look out!” screamed Melissa.
48
Uplink
Mamoru
The room on the seventh floor had once been the office of someone with an unusual fascination with boats. A small private bathroom had, in addition to forty-three tiny models of watercraft, an autoshower. Mamoru could not resist the embrace of civilization even a moment longer and luxuriated amid two full cycles. The comfort he expected seemed fleeting, consumed by contempt for the world around him. He stormed out of the tube to dress, further embittered at the sound of children outside.
An image of the primitive Scrag girl who had paid him tribute filled his senses. Her large brown eyes had offered respect and fear. Dust and war paint covered her slender, brown body. They were the true children of the world. His world. Though they dwelled within a realm of suffering and hardship, he sheltered the ones who knew him as their god.
Mamoru frowned at the window, gazing out at the city. Those whelps know nothing of life. This civilization is an abomination.
His vision blurred to a field of rubble and dirt, a broken building. Somewhere, far off in the Badlands, the little shaman girl sat with a hubcap bowl between her legs, mashing plant matter into paste. She looked to the clouds, at him. She sensed his eyes upon her and bowed her head.
The Sentience smiled with Mamoru’s lips. He would provide for her. A chance discovery of food now, the rest of the world in time. More visions filled his mind as he wandered from his room. The same girl, no longer a child, strolled among great slabs of wrecked metal, many of which still exuded plumes of smoke. She still wore the paint of a shaman, but with age, had added clothing made of animal hides, loaded with dangling shinies—cans, silver discs with finger-sized holes in the middle, and feathers. Beautiful and strong, the young woman strode the length of a yawning cavern of twisted debris with her head held high and a spear made from a Nano combat knife lashed to a staff. Such fortune to find a modern weapon; in the Badlands, it made her invincible.
Her followers collected at the edge of a great cliff as she walked out onto a steel I-beam protruding from a ridge and stared at the ocean below. The woman again bowed her head, knee-length raven hair drifting in the wind, and thanked him. The world, his world, had expanded all the way to the coast.
West City had burned to ashes.
Activity drew Mamoru out of his vision. Two men, a woman, and a half-dozen teens sat around a conference table laden with technology. Innumerable holo-panels above it bathed the area in a glow of ever changing color. His walk from the seventh floor of the central tower to the ground floor of a side building had passed in an instant.
He ignored the curious glances and moved to the farthest point of the room from the door, where a server-class processing unit sat on a wheeled base. The charcoal grey box came up to his waist, with beveled corners and slats on both sides lit with a lime glow from inside. For a minute, he stared at it, as if he couldn’t understand what the machine was.
The vision of the shaman girl faded. He remembered his obligation.
Mamoru placed a hand atop the computer and knew the machine. Seconds later, his consciousness floated above a massive silicon crater. Scorched ground shimmered with flecks of blue and violet light, flashing in pulses. The black zone around the corporate campus, shut off from the GlobeNet, rendered as a victim of a meteor impact.
He willed himself airborne, sailing out over the shining silicon grid. Globules of energy flowed along virtual circuit paths in a digital mimic of a city and its traffic. The blackened scar of blight fell away. Far in the distance, a gleaming pillar of white rushed skyward. Inside, a helix of blue energy cords whirled.
Flying across the net gave him a rush of freedom. Mamoru’s sense of self returned for a brief moment, but drowned in the weight of duty to his sister. He had accepted assistance from an Akuryō to spare her life, a gift it would certainly rescind if he broke his word. What loyalty did he have to this place, this city?
None.
What loyalty did he have to Japan or Minamoto Akio?
None.
Sadako was his loyalty.
Mamoru’s body floated up alongside the roaring column of energy, an interstellar data transmitter. He smirked at his true reflection upon its glass-like surface, not having bothered with the samurai avatar. What did it matter how dead people saw him?
One arm reached up. One finger broke the surface of the data. His body melted, passing through the space opened by a finger poke. The chaos of a hundred thousand simultaneous conversations washed over him. Mamoru flew between the channels of data. His consciousness fragmented into packets swimming among business deals, music, entertainment, spouses apologizing for being late, teary-eyed people begging colony settlers to return home, and porn—so much porn. Flesh and moans, images, sounds, and smells he cared not to experience, su
rrounded him as he flew.
Within this conduit, he had no physical form. A sense as though he raised his arms over his head caused his travel to accelerate. Soon, the digital representation of Earth below him resembled a glinting dark marble wrapped in threads of cobalt blue. Transparent nerve fibers lapped at the column, communications from satellites that vanished like bullets.
He hit the lunar relay, bouncing away from it as if he’d collided with an enormous rubber sphere, and hopped onto a Mars-Earth interconnect. Ordinary netizens rode tramcars in a reproduction of a commuter system. Mamoru rocketed over them, peering upward past a transparent orange force field at outer space. Another data pipe ran parallel far above. Black against the void, he sensed the other transmission channel’s presence in his gut rather than with his eyes. Mamoru pushed himself higher with a thought, passing through the barrier overhead. Inside the military channel, no pretense of reality dwelled. It had no trains or artwork. Male and female avatars in various uniforms flew back and forth like superheroes.
Mamoru refused to allow them to notice him. He projected his body down the pipe, finding the relay three times faster than the civilian channel. Minutes later, the Marsnet cluster came out of the distance as a red sphere. It expanded from ball to landscape, and he plummeted headfirst into a military communications center at the heart of Elysium City.
Even a virtual visit to Mars made him remember the taste of its dirt, like spoiled eggs and grit.
He infiltrated the infrastructure with ease. Programs he had previously altered opened the path for him to a hidden allocation of neural memory he’d left behind. The system rendered a dark hallway, like one buried deep in the basement of a long-abandoned government facility. Dim fluorescent lights clicked on with resonant thunks overhead. Section by section, light advanced into the distance, lifting the bare concrete passage out of darkness.
At the end, a plain, black door with a silver handle led to a room the size of an autoshower tube. One file cabinet inside opened at a glance. A single data tile rotated within its drawer containing frequency specifications and a cryptographic key.
Angel Descended (The Awakened Book 6) Page 45
