The Osiris Contingency

by Virginia Soenksen

  Seth sighed, shifting closer before he answered, “It’s probably as normal as it gets to miss what you’ve known for half your life.”

  Liane smiled, but it was half-hearted and quickly fell. Seth

  softened his voice as he asked, “What do you miss about it?”

  “Knowing what I was meant to be. Having a place where I fit. Right now, I don’t belong anywhere, or fit in with anyone.”

  Seth nodded in understanding. “That’s the human in you...

  remembering the best of something when you know you should only think about the worst.” Apprehensive of the answer, he asked, “You’re not thinking about going back there, are you?”

  “No,” she snapped. “I’m having a moment of weakness, not

  stupidity.”

  Seth laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the wall. “Good. It would be lonely being an army of one.”

  Liane looked over at him, asking, “Do you think I would ever do that? Leave you behind?”

  “You could, Liane. You could go back if you wanted. I don’t have that luxury.”

  “The only thing waiting for me at the Agency now is a mind-wipe and re-education,” Liane said, hostile. “Do you know what that means?”

  “Doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not. Re-education is just what Handlers call it; I think the medic Supporters refer to it as ‘neurological restructuring.’ They surgically link pain with anything you’re not supposed to know or do. Makes it hurt if you even think about breaking the rules again.” She gave a faint shiver, adding, “Life after that wouldn’t really be living, would it? I would just be a shell, an empty thing doing only what I was told…” She looked away, adding, “Just like I was before.”

  Wanting to comfort her, Seth slid closer and put an arm around her. Liane stiffened, her breaths quickening. But he didn’t pull away, and after a moment she relaxed. A minute more and she sighed, shoulders sagging as she said, “Knowing you… learning what it’s like to be free… I don’t want to lose that. It’s the only thing that gives my life meaning anymore.”

  “And bringing about the end of the Agency,” Seth added.

  Liane finally smiled, musing, “Oh yes. That as well, I suppose.”

  Then, over the crash of thunder from outside, came a piercing siren. Liane shot to her feet, every muscle in her body tense. More sirens echoed through the ruins, followed by a voice augmented over a loudspeaker as it announced, “This is a raid by the City of London Police! Stay where you are! All those who run will be shot!”

  “Up—get up!” Liane hissed at Seth, grabbing up the electronics and running to the pile of duffel bags. There were six of them now; too many for the two of them to carry, especially at a run. The bag with the Titan Strain and the added electronics went on her shoulder first, and she ripped open the others to seize the cash from the ones they would have to leave.

  Seth was at her side, whispering, “Which one should I take?”

  “That one,” she said, gesturing, “It has the forged identification papers. Leave the weapons; we can buy more.”

  With that she stood, seizing a rope ladder rolled up and waiting near the broken wall. After driving the clamps into the floor, she shoved the tarp aside and pushed the ladder out, unfurling it down the back wall of the building. Meanwhile, the sirens were growing louder, joined by shouts and the occasional gunshot.

  “Come on,” Liane whispered, ducking out through the opening and starting down the ladder. Seth followed, trying to move quickly while making as little noise as he could. They landed on the ground one after another, crouching in the darkness. Liane went to the edge of the building, looking towards the main road. Seth peered around her to see it was lined with officers in full riot gear, their faces covered by sleek, black helmets and laser-sighted rifles held at the ready. The officers were followed by slow-moving detention vehicles, the source of the blaring sirens and announcements as well as the spinning searchlights. In the distance, people were screaming in panic as the officers entered the buildings.

  Liane grabbed the front of Seth’s shirt, pulling him away from the police and deeper into the darkened ruins. He ran at a crouch after her. With every step, he expected gunfire or shouted orders for them to stop, but none came; the officers were too occupied by those they had already caught.

  Liane led the way, scrambling up mounds of rock and finding paths through uneven rubble. Seth followed, panting as he fought to keep up with her. Soon the straps of the bags cut into his shoulders, causing pain with every step. They ran for over an hour before Liane stopped, ducking under an overhang of a

  toppled wall. Seth collapsed on the ground, face bathed in sweat as he sagged back against a slab of concrete. Liane looked back the way they’d come, observing, “They didn’t follow us. Must have been a small-scale raid.”

  “Yeah,” Seth said, struggling to catch his breath. “Still large enough for us to lose our shelter and more than half our

  supplies.”

  Liane’s expression darkened, and she glanced away as she said, “It’s my fault we did. If I had just left the caches where they were—”

  “How were you supposed to predict a police raid?” Seth

  interrupted. “They never touch the ruins aside from the odd

  patrol. How were we supposed to know they’d start now?”

  “I should have known because it’s exactly like Damian. It’s no accident that police are breaking protocol; they came here tonight because he had some idea where we were and handed down orders to the commissioner.”

  Seth sat up in alarm. “The commissioner works for the Agency?”

  Liane laughed. “Everyone in government works for the Agency, whether they realize it or not. Agency administrators hold a higher rank than most members of Libertas. When a command is handed down from them, people obey it. That’s how things work in this country.”

  Seth nodded, frowning to himself. “I never thought about it like that… Weird to think about having the City of London Police as enemies.”

  “This entire city is made of enemies for us,” said Liane with a shake of her head. “From now on, we’ll be more careful…”

  Liane trailed off with a frown, rotating her arm and opening and closing her hand. That gave Seth pause, and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Muscle cramp. Must have done something to it when we were climbing down. It will pass.”

  Seth nodded. “So where to now?”

  Liane let her arm fall, sighing, “If the police are stepping up their efforts in the ruins, then we need somewhere else to operate. I think Chinatown is our only option now.”

  “You said no to that before,” Seth pointed out. “You said it was too close to your old flat.”

  “I didn’t say it was a good option,” she admitted. “But can you name another place within the city where we can rent a room without identification numbers?”

  “Point taken. Well, let’s go. If we move fast, we should be able to get there before daylight.”

  They only just made it; the sun was a sliver on the horizon when they turned through the Dragon Gate that led to the most disreputable part of London. It took another hour before they found a cheap room for rent. By the time the two of them walked into the tiny, grubby room above a pawnshop, they had just enough energy to check it for surveillance bugs. The room was clear, so Seth paid the tiny old man who acted as proprietor and the electronic lock pad was keyed to their prints in moments.

  The room was small, holding only two sagging twin beds, a peeling plywood dresser, and a small window that overlooked the alley outside. Liane dropped her bag at the foot of one bed and collapsed onto the mattress. She lay unmoving on the musty-smelling sheets with her eyes closed for a moment, then asked, “Do we have any water?”

  Seth shut and locked the door, rummaging through the duffels before admitting, “No. I’ll pick some bottles up along with food. Got to be a corner shop somewhere nearby…”

  Lian
e swallowed and grimaced. “So thirsty; my mouth feels like it’s made of sandpaper.”

  Seth glanced over at her, feeling his brow furrow as he asked, “You sure you’re ok?”

  “Yes. Just tired and filthy.” Without opening her eyes, she added, “Probably because of all the junk you’ve been having us eat.”

  Seth grinned. “I’m sure the black market here has all the posh greenhouse produce you could want. The communal showers are down the hall. You want to get cleaned up while I’m out?”

  She huffed a small laugh, looking around the cramped, dusty room. “Anything sounds better than staying in here.”

  Seth took some of their cash and headed out into the riot of neon and noise that was Chinatown. What the shops offered was sad, wilted produce that had clearly been nicked from a government market, so instead, he went to one of the food stalls and ordered enough for both of them. As he headed back with the weighty, warm plastic bag full of food, he spotted a withered old man selling drinks from an ancient cart. With a faint smile, he headed over to make one last purchase.

  Liane was waiting in the room by the time he returned, toweling off her damp hair and looking near exhaustion as she said, “This whole place stinks of mold and rancid grease, and I can’t touch anything without getting dirt on my hands.”

  “And here you thought the ruins would be the worst place we’d end up,” Seth returned, locking the door behind him and holding up a plastic bag full of food with a proud flourish. He laid the containers of chow fun and fried rice out on the bed as he observed, “Nice to be back in civilization, even if our neighbors might knife us to death as we sleep.”

  Liane looked around the room, her eyes drifting over the torn, reddish wallpaper and the dingy grime clinging to the window panes. She clearly didn’t agree with him, a frown tugging at her mouth until Seth reached into the bag and brought out a bottle.

  “I had to go to a couple stores to find it,” he said, handing it to her with a smile. “Ramune soda—peach flavored. Your favorite.”

  Surprise replaced the exhaustion and disquiet in her eyes, and she stared at him for a moment as if lost for words.

  Seth lowered his arm a fraction as he asked in confusion, “Is it not the right one? I thought—”

  “No, it’s perfect,” she said quickly as she took the bottle from him. “It’s just… No one in the Agency ever cared what I liked or wanted. We weren’t supposed to want.”

  It was heartbreaking to hear; even though he’d known the

  cruelties of the Agency, hearing her say it aloud was enough to render him speechless. Then, he said, “Well, you get to want now. And if I ever get anything you don’t like, chuck it back at me and tell me to go find something else.”

  She smiled for the first time since they’d escaped from the

  ruins as she said, “Thank you. And you’re right; it is nice being back.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Chinatown was quiet in daylight hours, but when night fell the district came alive.

  Security gates rose to reveal storefronts, restaurants churned out steam scented with garlic and lemongrass, and hawkers and shoppers filled the narrow streets. It was a car horn that woke Liane, and she lay still for a moment staring up at the ceiling. Her lips were tingling, an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation. No more drinking tap water in this place, she thought, sitting up and smoothing down her sleek hair. Grabbing a half-empty water bottle from nearby, she drained it dry and then reached for another.

  Her movements woke Seth, who stretched on his mattress and yawned out, “I have an idea for today.”

  “Tonight,” she corrected, gesturing at the darkness beyond the window.

  “Whatever,” he said dismissively. “Look, the Agency isn’t the only source of information within this city. What do you say to

  expanding our horizons?”

  She sat up, waiting for him to go on with an air of tested patience.

  “I had sources when I was on the Genetic Modification Task Force,” Seth explained. “Disreputable low-lifes for the most part and they always knew what was happening in the city before the police.”

  “And you want to go to them?”

  Seth smiled brightly. “What do you say?”

  “I say you’re an idiot,” Liane returned flatly. “Your face is

  plastered all over the evening news, or had you forgotten? And if these people are as disreputable as you claim, they won’t hesitate to turn you in and collect on the reward.”

  “You’re on the news too, even if the mods don’t realize it or know what you look like.”

  “So what?”

  “So, we should use that a little,” he said, moving closer to her. “I mean, you made public a major government conspiracy; you showed the world that not all mods are bored junkies with too much money on their hands hungry for their fix. That they’re human, that some of them want to help this country…” Liane went quiet, and Seth added earnestly, “That’s going to mean something to the rest of the mods in London. We should find out just how much.”

  She didn’t answer immediately, mulling over their options as Seth sat fidgeting. Finally, she asked, “Do you trust any of these informants?”

  “Nope,” he answered. “These are snitches, not friends. We’re going to take a risk talking to them.”

  Liane growled, running both hands irritably through her hair. “I don’t like risks.”

  Seth laughed. “Well, get used to them. Freedom means there’s nothing but risks.”

  “And here I was so eager to win mine,” she said with more

  sarcasm than usual. Seth grinned at that, pleased she was picking up on humor. She shook her head, reaching for her clothes as she asked, “When do we start?”

  They left an hour later, Seth emerging with the hood of his jacket up and Liane with a black stocking hat pulled low on her forehead. They locked the door to their room with obvious movements, wanting to make sure that the neighbors lingering on the hallway landing saw them do it. Liane had already taken

  precautions with both the door and the window but also took the time to glare at the onlookers. Most of them looked away or soon found a reason to leave; they had lived long enough in the

  ungoverned section of the city to recognize danger when it stared them in the face.

  The narrow street outside was alive and bustling, packed with people. Seth led them, and when the crowd became too thick for comfort he reached back and gripped Liane’s hand, pulling her closer as he pushed a path through the throngs. She smiled to herself, enjoying his protectiveness even though she now had to shove pickpocketing children away from him one-handed.

  For dinner, they went to a tiny shop near the Dragon Gate, the same one where they had met when they first started working together. The stooped, wizened proprietress welcomed Liane with a hug and a stream of Cantonese, pulling the stocking hat from her head and sitting her down near the tiny kitchen in the back. Seth followed, sitting down opposite her as the old woman gave him a measured look, muttering something to Liane before

  vanishing to fetch tea.

  “She still doesn’t like me, does she?” Seth observed.

  Liane shrugged, “She said ‘I know he’s good-looking, but you should pick a boyfriend who’s more polite’.”

  “Sound advice,” said Seth, giving the old woman a winning smile as she reappeared and thanking her with atrocious

  Cantonese. Liane snorted into her teacup, though when the old woman whispered to her again, she turned bright red and nearly dropped it entirely. Seth grinned, saying, “Okay, that is definitely going to get translated for me.”

  Though her cheeks burned, it was still difficult to resist

  following a direct order. Crimson, Liane stared at the nearby wall as she said, “She says ‘I hope he’s better in bed than he is at speaking Chinese.’”

  Rather than looking embarrassed, Seth let out a raucous laugh before turning and calling out to the old woman, “Don’t worry, I am!”<
br />
  The old woman tittered behind her hand while Liane glared at her companion, cheeks still warm as she snipped, “Can we please focus on our next move? Who exactly is this informant we’re going to see?”

  “His name is Charles Slater, though he likes to call himself Chayse,” said Seth as their food started to arrive. “He’s a low-level dealer of mod serum and one of the most obnoxious little shits I’ve ever met. But the man loves to talk…”

  “Good,” said Liane, adding condiments to her bowl of congee. “Is he going to need any encouragement?”

  “Hopefully,” said Seth with enthusiasm. “I’d love the

  opportunity to punch that wormy little face of his.”

  Liane shook her head, but she was smiling as she ate.

  They left soon after, the old woman waving them out of the shop. Seth headed for the nearest gun store to replace the one he had lost in the raid, while Liane followed out of curiosity. As an Agent, she had purchased clothes and odd luxuries herself, but weapons only ever came from the Agency arsenal, custom-balanced to suit each individual Agent or Handler. She eyed the racks of grimy, pre-used weapons in the shop with distaste, even more put-off by the spirited haggling between Seth and the shopkeeper. She drifted back out to the street, pulling on her stocking hat and reveling in the freedom of having her face uncovered in the surveillance-free streets.

  Liane was just growing impatient when she spotted the used bookstore opposite to where she stood. The storefront was piled with racks and wire baskets fashioned into bookshelves. She

  wandered over, looking through the cheapest selections. She had always liked books; from the moment she joined the Program that would turn her into an Agent, she’d read everything she could get her hands on. A love of books and reading was one of the things she and Damian had always had in common.

  A thick, paperback volume on the lower racks caught her eye. Stooping, she found that it was a complete history of the Third World War. Liane frowned to herself; she had learned of the war in Agency classes, but she had never read an outside source like this.