by Russ Linton
"I was thinking we could send in the girls, Ember and Jackie here. Garb 'em up, cover faces. Maybe you," Hound indicated Eric, "and your chatterbox could do some of that hackin'. Set up a legitimate appointment for 'em."
"Sure," Ember said.
"No way," Jackie replied, the fierceness of her raw emotions suddenly burst free.
"Don't worry, I could make that happen." Eric tried to comfort Jackie, and she shrugged off his touch. "Seriously, we can hack into anything. They won't even know who—"
Hound seized a fistful of Eric's shirt, dragging him toward the stairs. "She ain't talkin' to you. Let's give them room, huh?"
Danger stepped outside while Eric continued to struggle up the stairs, arguing how easy the job would be. Routine, he stated, loudly. Not as easy as the NSA, but easy nonetheless. He'd get started. Right away.
Connie was the last to leave. She'd been ignoring the conversation at her place by the curtained window. The dream hadn't occurred to Jackie until Connie glided past with eyes low and a quiet greeting to Ember. The flowing curtain, her otherworldly grace, and Jackie's own lack of sleep, plus the anxiety about this exact moment all must have fed into that bizarre dream.
Ember wandered away from her again as the room cleared.
"I'm not afraid of you," Jackie blurted. She didn't understand why it needed to be said, but it did.
"You sure we're related? Thought I was smarter than that."
"I've watched you all my life. I know what you can do." The admission got a tilt of Ember's head, but she still didn't turn to face her. "None of that scares me because you've already done all the damage you possibly could."
Ember gave a derisive sigh. "Is it too much to hope for some girl time? Maybe a trip to a war zone and some glamour shots." She turned, challenging Jackie. "You know the ones. Of what I can do."
"I'm not scared of you," Jackie repeated. She reached up and removed the pendant, tossing it at Ember harder than she'd planned. "Neither was he."
Ember caught the canister smoothly. She turned it over in her hand and ran a finger down the chain, one Jackie had borrowed from a dead soldier's dog tags. The curiosity on Ember's face extinguished with a flip of the cap. Her sheer confidence crumbled for a brief instant, the kind Jackie would only dream of catching in a photo and returned just as fast.
"I never stopped loving him," she said, crossing the room. Jackie had said she wasn't afraid twice now, but truth was, she had seen what the woman prowling toward her could do. "It hurt. Hurt more than any damn thing ever in my life."
She stuffed the canister back into Jackie's hands. The outside was warm, almost soft from the heat. The chain singed as it dangled against her knuckles.
"Couldn't have hurt that much. For you to leave and not come back. It ruined him." Jackie felt tears welling in her eyes and fixed them on the canister. "He was a good man. Broken, but good. How can you lie and say you loved him?" She gathered the courage to turn her head up and found herself staring into a pained gaze. "I was with him. I kept the house. I kept the yard. I cleaned his vomit and made excuses to his bosses."
She couldn't go on. She hadn't even meant to talk about her dad that way. Those were things she didn't tell people, ever. She had to keep up the facade of normalcy.
Ember reached out, waiting with her hand in the air to see if Jackie would pull away. Jackie wanted to but didn't feel she could move. The hand came down on her shoulder. Warm fingers cradled the back of her neck.
"You weren't responsible for him."
"But I was!" Jackie yanked away. "Every day I tried to fix things. Nothing helped, nothing worked. When I knew about you, when I figured it out, I knew one thing which could. One damn thing!" she shouted, her throat going instantly hoarse. She stopped to breathe and trickled out another sentence. "And it wasn't me."
She tried to fight as Ember pulled her close. Iron and heat, raw strength radiated something more than fire. Tears burned her cheeks, and even hotter ones dripped on her scalp.
"Shhh, baby," Ember whispered. "I was there. When he didn't come home for days on end, I found a way to post the bail. When he'd get run off a job or walk away, I made sure somebody else was willing to call. When he died..." her voice faltered. "I was there."
"Why should I even believe you?" Jackie whimpered. She hated herself for loving the embrace and wanting more, not trying to escape. "You should've been at home, with us. We would've made it work."
"You've got to understand, the things I do, I did, they aren't the things you take home to dinner. They aren't the things which let you be with a family or to settle down, raise a good kid, a strong kid. Like he did."
"No," Jackie muttered through her sobs. She wasn't sure if she was agreeing or arguing. She felt those warm hands wander to hers where she clutched the canister.
"I was there," Ember repeated.
They didn't say anything else as the sun shied away from the windows. They stood holding each other and Jackie kept fumbling for those eloquent words of anger and accusation she'd performed over and over. She wanted to hit her, scream, expose her for how wrong, and how terrible she'd been. But she had no fight left.
"WHILE THE, UH, REUNION went down, Chroma and I poked around," Eric said.
Jackie and Ember had joined the group where they'd gathered on the top floor. A tight warren of derelict rooms alternately stuffed with soiled mattresses and trash had occupied the middle floor. Jackie hadn't lingered there. Of all the floors, only this one appeared as if someone had moved out only yesterday.
An LED lantern on the table carved dense shadows from the exposed roof beams. Clean and polished, the banister reflected the same light in honed edges. Three windows facing the river allowed a cool breeze, less humid than on the lower floors closer to the river bank.
"The lab itself is a black box, but their front office, pffft," Eric continued. He sat at the table in a rickety wooden chair with his laptop open. The others gathered in the monitor's glow like travelers at a fire. "It's wide open because it looks like they've got recruiters referring patients worldwide. I can schedule an appointment, no problem."
Jackie watched as Ember, Hound, and Danger exchanged troubled glances. She thought she understood what this meant. This was a bigger operation maybe than anybody anticipated.
"Can you get those records? From here?" asked Hound.
A dissatisfied huff emanated from the laptop. "No," the voice, Jackie guessed this was Chroma whom Eric referred to earlier, spat in frustration. "They clear out the data regularly. All I've got is a week's worth."
"Well, how many in a week then?"
"Only three."
Hound and Danger shared an incredulous grumble. "Three a week like the Lady?" Danger asked. "Son of a bitch."
"Maybe they just opened up for business," Eric said hopefully.
Hound shook his head. "We got reports of more."
"Do tell." Ember hung on his shoulder, sidling close. Hound replied with a tight-lipped shake of his head.
"Once we get access, we'll figure out all that," Eric spoke, trying to sound unconcerned. "I'm not hearing too much chatter about rogue Augments. The Middle East is blowing the fuck up, so could be something there, but when has it not been blowing the fuck up? Am I right?" When nobody agreed, he went on. "All I need for the appointment is a picture of our recruits. We'll do it ninja mask style, so our buddy Cyrus doesn't recognize you."
"He means like with a niqab," Ember said, smacking Eric on the top of his head, hard. Jackie thought she heard the laptop growl. "I'll see what I can do."
"Crowd in," Eric said, rubbing at his head. "I've got a camera right here."
"This won't seem suspicious?" Jackie asked. "An identity photo with a covered face?"
"As far as I can tell, none of these recruiters are pros, just locals told to find people for a medical study. It's a page from The Collective's playbook," he added, tugging importantly at his shirt. His smug expression soured. "They're bound to fuck up a few things. They even sent one up you
r way, Ember."
She nodded. "Yep, PRC got an anonymous tip and picked him up. That's how we got on to this place."
"Which is why your cover identity will be a couple of Chinese peasants who years ago had your baby kidnapped by a sketchy adoption service and sold to the United States."
Eric said this with a gleam in his eye as though he expected praise. What he got was another cuff on the head from Ember. This time, harder. "Ow, fuck!"
"A little close to home don't you think?"
"You singed my hair!" Jackie hadn't noticed at first, but as he spoke, she caught a whiff of burnt hair and stifled a gag.
"Listen bitch—"
Cringing and balled up away from Ember's swing, Eric's eyes went from thin creases of pain to wide-eyed horror. He flung himself forward, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the case with his body. Jackie felt the temperature spike in the room, a wave of heat right beside her.
"A reminder!" Eric shouted, frantic. "She's not in the computer, she's pretty much everywhere! You can't melt her here."
Jackie saw Ember glance her way, her eyes narrow with rage, and then softened. The heat receded. "Can't say it wouldn't feel good."
"Tell 'em what you told me, Eric," Hound said. "Explain why the cover story has to be that way."
Eric cautiously peeled himself away from the laptop. "Those recruiters were told to find, and I quote, 'individuals who've suffered grievous wrong at the hands of the United States government.'"
"Well that narrows down the pool," Danger quipped.
"That's why this cover is perfect. And if I learned one thing from Spencer, well, I learned lots from Spencer. I mean to say he's a good guy. A solid friend."
"Go on," Hound ordered.
"Well, a cover story close to the truth is always the easiest to maintain. And if Cyrus does recognize your eyeballs, well, maybe he'll think it's one giant coincidence and be intrigued."
Jackie saw Ember give a noncommittal twitch of her eyebrow. "But I'm not really Chinese," Jackie said. "I can pass, I suppose, unless—"
Ember interrupted with a flawless stream of Mandarin.
"What did she say?" Eric asked.
Jackie had heard the language spoken many times before, though she only knew a few phrases herself. Utility phrases like where is the bathroom or I need a cab. Neither fit into what Ember said.
"She says keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking," Danger said. Everybody eyed him. "What? The Agency sends even us Lawndale boys global, you know. You'll have to put them in the system as Hui, not Uyghurs. Chinese speakers and a little Arabic. Uyghurs got their own language."
"Um, right," said Eric. "Can you spell any of that?"
"Wasn't the Agency for me," Ember said, her normally strident tone growing soft. "I wanted to learn, um, a little family history." The brash Augment had drawn suddenly inward, and Jackie felt closer to her.
"Let me take the pictures," Jackie said.
Connie, who'd been silent the entire time, perked up. Jackie retrieved her camera under the strange woman's wistful smile. On the other side of the room, Ember stood against a blank wall and arranged her outfit.
"Good to see you all together. Your family," Connie said.
The joy in her tone had caught Jackie off guard, and she'd already begun to return offer a simple thank you. Then she saw Connie's eyes on the film canister pendant and the second sentence hit. Jackie found her face twisting into a clear statement: What's your fucking problem?
Jackie tucked away the chain as she rose with her camera. She struggled to get her mind back on task. Something was clearly wrong with Connie. She pulled away in time to see Ember strike a fierce pose, fire springing to life like an invisible skin over her garments.
"I'm ready for my close up, daughter dear."
CHAPTER 44
JACKIE FOLLOWED EMBER's lead through the city. The walk to the hospital zone was only a few miles. There weren't blocks in any traditional sense. Buildings grew together in tight clusters producing a chaotic sprawl of painted brick and mismatched roofs. Openings for streets seemed to occur almost by accident.
Traffic was less a concern than she thought. Single cylinder scooters swarmed past, not beholden to any traffic laws. Compact cars and mini-buses occasionally squeezed by, bleating their horns, but the side streets were quiet.
"Okay, so you have to tell me what's up with Connie," Jackie said, struggling to keep up with Ember. The skirt had been bad enough, but this full traditional dress wasn't her thing, and she'd already nearly tripped on the hem.
"That's a weird one."
"Her or the story?"
Ember puffed her cheeks as if to not answer. "She's Crimson Mask's wife," she said and winced. "Widow. She's not quite herself."
They paused on a corner to let a truck rattle through the intersection. Crossing through the greasy cloud of exhaust caused Jackie to press the cloth covering her mouth closer to her face. When they hopped the next curb, she hiked up her dress and strode closer. Ember eyed her and slowed.
"Let that down. We're in disguise, remember?"
"I know," Jackie yanked at the cloth and smoothed the front.
"And try not to lope like that." Ember wagged a finger up and down to indicate everything which was Jackie. "People will think you’re a boy in a dress."
"Sometimes they do think I'm a boy around here. I don't care."
"That's fine by me. But we care now because you're supposed to be someone else. Try this." Ember continued, putting a little more swing in her step.
"There's a modesty thing, too," Jackie muttered.
She tried to put a different emphasis on her hips with the next few steps but felt awkward and obvious. Traffic continued to buzz past. She felt certain drivers were furtively checking their mirrors, trying to figure out who or what she was.
"Good enough," said Ember. "You were saying?"
"Connie, what's her thing?"
"She isn't Connie, really," said Ember, her eyes crinkling. "She's, well, Charlotte. A psychic being murdered her and then somehow trapped her soul in her former body while going on to infect the internet."
"Wow. Okay...so that is weird," Jackie said. Her walk had drifted back into her normal swagger.
Ember put an arm around her and began to lead, first with steps then a bump of her hip. It was exaggerated, but by the time the motion reached Jackie, the effect had what she hoped was the right impact.
"Charlotte...so she was an Augment?"
"Was. Is. You've met her. She's Chroma now."
Jackie's head spun. This was a bit much to try and sort out, even for a front-page article. Maybe an exclusive. Something longform in a glossy publication and a cover photo.
Everybody had heard of the Crimson Mask's death even in the chaotic days of exfiltration in the valley. She knew Hound and Danger had been in Detroit where it happened, and Ember, too. And she knew that Spencer kid, Kid Crimson, had been there and...
"Fuck. The Black Beetle is the Crimson Mask's son?"
Ember came to a full stop. She raised her palms and jabbed at Jackie. "Character. We're in character."
Jackie swept the area finding no witnesses but a few stray dogs. She lowered her voice and pressed closer in a half-assed show of the invisibility expected of her. "The Black fucking Beetle is the son of the Crimson Mask?"
Ember put her fingers to a temple and rubbed. "I'll give you the rundown if I don't melt my own brain."
Jackie listened as they moved deeper into the city. Away from the waterfront and closer to the hospital zone, the city seemed to open up. They passed broad lawns where more stray dogs idled. Buildings were more modern in this area, less character and coated with blistering gray or white paint. Yet none stood above three or four stories tall. With the uniform, flat skyline, Jackie could make out the distant mountains which had blended with the peaked roofs at the waterfront. She watched them as Ember told her story.
She'd joined up with the Crimson Mask after Killcreek. There'd been a p
lan to try and keep some kind of order among Augments but let them live freely. Out of a job, she was perfectly happy to singe a few asses and keep people in line. Hell, she admitted, she'd needed a minder herself. They'd had a base, at an old government facility disguised as a retirement home. Both laughed at the absurdity.
Jackie thought of Hound. "Do any of them actually retire?"
No answer, and Ember's expression turned reflective. Ember spoke of other operations, talking as though they were working vacations. She'd been all over the world, and in many cases, Jackie found they could compare experiences. At the core, it was a J-O-B, much like Jackie's, hopping from one global hot spot to the next. Places where the Augment could fully express what she had become and where the daughter of one could try and discover herself.
Turned out, she'd just missed seeing Ember in Iraq. And the Augment had been in Ukraine, but not under any new government program. No, that had been the doing of the Crimson Mask as well.
Ember's mood darkened when the subject returned to him.
"I'm going to fuck Cyrus up," she said to Jackie, any admonishments about modesty and her disguise swept aside. "I need you to be prepared. I'm going to burn him."
A spark and the mood had shifted. Jackie nodded loosely, wide-eyed.
"What did he do?"
"As far as I'm concerned, he killed the Crimson Mask. Crimson was a good guy, a boy scout. A big, raging boy scout at times," Ember said, her eyes aglow. "But he meant well."
"Why go to China after working with him?" Jackie asked. "Why work for anybody?" More than a little, Jackie wanted to ask why she hadn't come home or tried to find her once she'd been truly freed.
Ember kept her eyes ahead on the unmarked street they'd turned down. An open park surrounded a hospital fenced in with wrought iron bars. "I need a focus for all of this. I can't turn it off, only dampen it. The heat, the fire, it leaks out eventually."
They continued in silence. The city had settled into an orderly grid, and after a few more blocks, they were close to the lab. Once in sight of the building, they ducked into an open stairwell.
