Dirty Mirror

by R S Penney

  Cara was already facing him.

  The woman jumped and kicked high, striking his chin with the toe of her shoe. His vision darkened for a moment. Being a Keeper, he was able to rely on spatial awareness to keep track of his opponent. She stepped forward, throwing a punch.

  Jack turned his body so that his shoulder was toward her, catching her fist as it flew past. “You could at least…” He let go and spun around to face her, delivering a hard jab to the nose. “Let me finish my wisecrack!”

  Cara went stumbling backward, blood leaking from her nostrils, spilling over her lips. She hit the wall and let out a grunt.

  He charged at her, then jumped and turned his body for a flying side kick. The tiny woman ducked out of his path. His foot hit the wall instead, chipping the duroplastic, and then he landed.

  Two hands seized the back of his shirt, whirling him around to face the window. Bent Gravity did the rest.

  Jack went flying across the office with arms flailing, crashing through the window behind the desk. Glass rained down all around him as he dropped two stories toward the grass below. This is gonna suck.

  He landed on his knees with enough force to crack a normal man's bones, his head spinning as a wave of dizziness washed over him. “Oh, god…” Jack pressed a palm to his forehead. “Why can't they ever go quietly?”

  He looked up to see Cara leap through the shattered window, thrusting her hand into the air to reveal shards of broken glass that glittered in the sunlight. She flung them down at Jack with a touch of Bent gravity.

  He rolled away.

  Thin slivers of glass hit the ground where he had been like arrows loosed from a trained archer's bow, each one burying itself nearly to the tip. Had he remained there, they would have carved up his insides.

  Cara landed in the grass maybe twenty feet away, crouched down and gasping for breath. Slowly, she got to her feet. “I'll give you this much credit,” she said, whirling around to face him. “You provided a challenge.”

  Jack got up.

  “You're not so bad yourself,” he said, striding toward her. “So how 'bout it? You ready to finish this?”

  Cara spun and back-kicked.

  Doubling over, Jack caught the woman's ankle before her shoe made contact with his stomach. He gave a twist and flipped her around, throwing her flat on her back in the middle of the grass. Cara didn't stay down.

  Curling her legs against her chest, she sprang off the ground and landed before him with her fists raised.

  Jack punched her in the nose with a nauseating crunch. Seizing a fistful of the woman's hair, he forced her down and brought his knee up to strike her face. That left her dazed and disoriented.

  Jack flung her sideways.

  Cara went stumbling like a drunkard thrown out of a bar, her shoulder slamming into the building's front wall. A groan escaped her as she fell to her knees and pawed at the wall for balance.

  She collapsed onto her stomach a moment later, lying stretched out in the grass. If you didn't know better, you might have thought she was taking a nap. “Well,” Jack said. “I'm pleased to say you gave me a challenge too…”

  He tapped quickly at the screen of his multi-tool, placing a call to the local PD. “This is Special Agent Jack Hunter at the Shilenar Keeper office,” he rasped. “Requesting backup. Full tactical gear…We're bringing in a rogue Keeper.”

  “I cannot believe you went without me!”

  Cassiara stood with her back turned, fists on her hips as she stared over the balcony railing at the city. The young woman wore dark green pants and a white tank top that left her shoulders bare. “Did it occur to you that we could have taken her together?”

  In blue jeans and an unzipped sweater over his gray t-shirt, Jack leaned against the wall with a hand pressed to his stomach, his eyes downcast as he let out a sigh. “Did you ever read my personnel file?” he shot back. “Specifically, the part that says, 'does not play well with others?”

  Cassi whirled around.

  She stood before the railing with fists clenched at her sides, her gaze fixed on the floor. “You don't want to work with me?” she muttered. “Fine. Far be it for me to make a fuss if the great Jack Hunter has preferences.”

  Chewing on his lower lip, Jack shut his eyes. He was suddenly aware of sweat on his brow. “That's not what I meant,” he rasped. “After Breslan, it's…hard for me to trust someone I don't know.”

  His new partner looked up at him with those gorgeous purple eyes, and for a brief moment, he felt like a ninth-grader at his first dance. “I thought we were getting to know one another,” she said. “Was I wrong?”

  Jack went red, then shook his head like a dog trying to get rain out of his fur. “We are getting to know one another.” This next bit was going to hurt, but let it never be said that he wasn't willing to own his screw-ups. “And I shouldn't have just confronted Cara without telling you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So…”

  She just stood there with her hands in her back pockets, smiling down at herself. “You're something else, Jack Hunter,” she said, stepping closer. “I've met a lot of Justice Keepers, but none quite like you.”

  And just like that, he was so very much aware of how close she was, close enough for him to feel the heat of her body despite the warm afternoon. God help him, he wanted to kiss her so badly. Anna's face flashed in his mind.

  Clamping a hand over his mouth, Jack shut his eyes and coughed. “Yeah,” he said, backing away from her. “I get that a lot, actually. Everyone's always telling me that I'm one of a kind.”

  Cassi was smiling, shaking her head with wry amusement. “Well, they are right about that,” she said softly. “But, just in case I haven't been clear, I happen to think that's a good thing.”

  “Actually, you have been clear,” Jack said. “Refreshingly clear.” Maybe it was just him, but there was something so hot about a person who could just say what they wanted without reservation. He supposed it was because he had grown up on Earth where people got tongue-tied every time the subject of sex came up. Then again, from what he'd seen, that was equally true of Leyrians.

  Dear god, he wanted to kiss her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, some muted voice was screaming that he loved Anna, but it was hard to focus on that right now. Oh, he would have no trouble putting Anna first if she, you know, actually chose him. But it was pretty damn difficult to be loyal to someone who gave absolutely no indication that she would be loyal to you. The last time they had spoken, Anna had told him they would see what happened when she was done getting over Bradley. That wasn't really a promise, and she had been incommunicado for nearly four months.

  Chapter 8

  The sun was shining bright in the blue sky, silver rays falling upon small dome-like houses on either side of the street. Each one was surrounded by dense foliage, beautiful gardens and trees.

  About a block away, an apartment building shaped like an hourglass stood tall with trees on its rooftop. Melissa still marveled at the beauty of Leyrian architecture. Months of living on this world had not changed that. In the end, she was glad that she had come here. Earth was a great big bundle of crazy compared to most Leyrian colonies – and she had worried that moving to a more peaceful planet would hinder her training – but it was worth it if only for the experience of actually being here.

  She turned back to the man she had been interviewing.

  An older fellow in gray pants and a simple blue t-shirt, he stood upon the sidewalk with sunglasses on his face, his white hair a total mess. “A Justice Keeper, huh?” he said. “Well, that's wonderful! You know I wanted to be one when I was young.”

  Grinning ferociously, Melissa bowed her head to him. She had left her hair loose today, and she could feel the wind teasing it. “Thank you, sir,” she began. “But as I said, I'm only a cadet.”

  “But you have the Nassai.”

  Melissa stood before him with her arms crossed, blushing as she smiled down at herself. “Yes,” she said, nod
ding to him. “For almost four months now. I'm still learning how to work with it.”

  The old man smiled and chuckled. “Well, that's the biggest part,” he said. “If the symbiont picked you, ma'am, it means you're worthy.”

  Ma'am.

  It felt strange to be called that by someone so much older than her; she'd expected the man to call her “my dear” or something along those lines, but after many long years of struggle, Leyrians had overcome such sexist behaviours. Justice Keepers deserved to be respected regardless of age.

  The man fidgeted, drawing her out of her reverie. “You said that you wanted to ask me a few questions, ma'am?”

  “Yes, I'm sorry!” Musing on Leyrian history while the man patiently waited for her to get to the point! “Do you spend a lot of time outside, Mr…”

  “Voren,” he offered. “I sure do.”

  She looked to her left where a narrow cobblestone walkway led up to a house that looked like one large dome with two smaller ones pasted to either side, each with a roof that soaked up the sunlight. “That's your home?”

  The man stood before her with his hands in his pockets, smiling down at his own feet. For some reason, he was blushing. “It is,” he said. “A bit larger than necessary after my kids moved out, but my husband and I had so many memories.”

  Meaning this house was right across the street from the spot where a car would have picked up the bomber two nights ago. “You wouldn't have happened to have been outside two days ago, just a little before sunset?” Melissa inquired.

  “I was, yes.”

  She had to suppress her elation. Maintaining some standard of professionalism was an important part of the job. Still, it was hard not to feel excited when things were finally starting to come together. “Did you happen to see a man getting picked up by a car?”

  Mr. Voren frowned, turning his head to stare down at the ground next to him. “It's hard to recall,” he mumbled. “I think a car might have passed by, but I don't remember seeing anyone get into it.”

  Melissa closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “Think back for a moment,” she said. “Did you happen to notice the colour of the car? The model? Anything that might help identify the passenger?”

  The man's face crumpled into a tense expression, and he shook his head. “No. I'm sorry, but no.” He took a step back, letting out a deep breath. “I wasn't really paying that much attention. Cars come by sometimes.”

  “Could it have been your neighbour across the street?”

  “Arrela?” the man scoffed. “Highly unlikely. She doesn't go out very much in the evenings, and when she does, she usually takes the train.”

  Most people did, so far as Melissa understood matters. Leyrian cities were designed to make public transit as accessible as possible. Major thoroughfares had no more than a few dozen cars on them at any given moment, and residential streets saw only one or two each day. “Nothing then?”

  The man shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he said. “If I remember anything, I'll be sure to call you.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was hard not to sound crestfallen. Professionalism was a must, but it was so hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice. For a moment there, she had really believed that she was making progress. “Thank you,” Melissa said again. “We appreciate any help you can give us.”

  The sidewalk of Elidrea street was lined with small homes on one side, each with a gorgeous front yard. Some had flowerbeds and others tall trees that were already showing thick green leaves. It was a lovely neighbourhood.

  Harry walked up the street in beige pants and a white shirt with the top two buttons left undone, his eyes downcast as he pondered his next move. Canvassing the area like it's my first day with a shield on my belt, he thought. Some things never change.

  None of the homes had driveways, which made sense when you considered the fact that very few Leyrians actually owned a car. Possibly none at all. He wasn't entirely clear on that point.

  Instead, each house had a pathway that cut through a lush green lawn on its way to the front door. To say the homes were dome-like was a bit of an oversimplification. They weren't all perfectly round. Some even had what he could only assume were the Leyrian equivalent of wings: smaller domes attached to the main building. In fact, no two houses were exactly the same.

  He suddenly felt a little silly. When he had applied for a house in Denabria, he had simply accepted the standard model without any alterations. Still, it was a nice home.

  At the edge of one yard, a woman in a blue dress was crouched over a flowerbed, pouring water on the plants. “Excuse me,” Harry said as he approached. She stiffened, startled by his voice. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  The woman stood up with a grunt. She was lovely: tall and slim with Asian features and black hair that she wore tied back in a long ponytail. “How can I help you, sir?”

  Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “I'm a liaison to the Justice Keepers,” he said, stepping closer. “We have reason to believe that the person who bombed Vertical Farm 17 passed through this neighbourhood a few days ago.”

  The woman went pale and then lowered her eyes to stare down at the sidewalk. “I see,” she mumbled. “And you want to ask me a few questions.”

  Crossing his arms with a grunt, Harry felt his mouth tighten. He nodded to her. “I do.” It came out as a simple, matter-of-fact statement. “Specifically about whether you noticed anyone strange in the neighbourhood two nights ago around sunset.”

  “Two nights ago?”

  “Yes, ma'am?”

  The woman scrunched up her face, tossing her head about with such fury you might have expected her to get vertigo. “I was downtown two nights ago,” she said. “I wouldn't have seen anything, but there was…”

  “Yes?”

  “It's probably nothing.”

  Chuckling softly, Harry bowed his head to the woman. “Ma'am,” he began in the smoothest voice he could manage. “Anything you tell us could be an essential piece of information. Please don't hold back.”

  “Well, I've been on sabbatical from the university,” she explained. “So, I've been home most days, working on my next book. And I've noticed a man who seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the neighbourhood.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he wasn't…” The woman trailed off for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I mean to say I didn't recognize him. I know most of my neighbours, and I haven't seen this man before last week.

  “At first I would have thought nothing of it – maybe he was visiting someone in the area – but I saw him several times over the course of one week, and he never seemed to have a specific destination in mind.”

  Harry's detective instincts kicked in. A young officer might look at something like that and think “But what about due process? You can't assume anything based on such circumstantial evidence,” but after a few years, you began to develop a sense for these things. People, for the most part, were creatures of habit. They noticed when there was a change in their routine, and usually, such changes indicated something important.

  “Could he have been out for a walk?” Harry asked. “Perhaps he was visiting one of your neighbours, and he wanted some fresh air.”

  “Well, that's what I thought,” the woman said. “But it was weird. Once I started to notice him, I began to pay attention. He would stop at random points and…Well, there's just no good way to say this…”

  “Go on.”

  “He'd inspect the area,” the woman blurted out. “He'd pause on the sidewalk, take stock of how many trees were in the nearest front yard. Things like that. I almost thought he wanted to apply for a house here.”

  Rubbing his chin with the back of his hand, Harry squinted at the woman. “That is interesting,” he muttered. “Think carefully. How many times did you see this man doing something like that?”

  A touch of crimson painted the woman's cheeks, and she looked away to avoid eye-contact. “Twi
ce, maybe three times,” she said. “He would do it in the daytime, when most people are out of the house.”

  “Thank you. This might be useful.”

  Suddenly, the woman perked up, her eyes widening as if she had just seen a ghost. “I just remembered something!” she all but shouted. Taking control of herself, she let out a deep breath. “One time, he was near my house when he stopped and started looking at the homes across the street. I noticed a Talis Ring on his third finger.”

  “I'm sorry; what's that?”

  The woman gave him one of those looks you'd expect to see from a mother whose child just asked why it was necessary to say please and thank you. “It's a symbol of the Holy Companion,” she said. “Only members of the clergy wear them.”

  Harry squeezed his eyes shut, anxiety clawing at his insides. “Thank you,” he said with a curt nod. “We'll be in touch if we need anything else.”

  A member of the clergy. Suddenly, the bombing had religious overtones. He would have to familiarize himself with the Layati doctrine, but he wasn't at all surprised. Most monotheistic religions had a certain paternalism that would fit nicely with the mandate of the Sons of Savard. He made his way back to Melissa. Maybe she had learned something they could use.

  The office they had given her was a small, gray-walled room with a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out on a balcony. On the other side of the street, sunlight glinted off the windows of a cylindrical building with a field of green grass and trees on its rooftop.

  Anna stood before her desk with her arms folded, frowning down at the report that scrolled across its surface. “The Sons of Savard,” she said, eyebrows rising. “Fitting. You leave to Earth to get away from this toxic bullshit, and it follows you.”

  White text scrolled across the desk's surface, relaying the details of the bombing two nights ago. The Sons of Savard…She had been in her mother's living room when the news report came in. So far, she had never heard of a group like this. It galled her to think that the very things she had come to despise about Earth culture were now taking root on her own planet. She wanted to punch something.