8

It was a rooftop expanse, one full of lush vegetation, shipping containers, rusty railings, large L-shaped ventilation pipes, and a helicopter port marked with a yellow ‘H’. Surprisingly there weren’t as many people out here as there had been inside, but they certainly shared a similar aggression: just like before, when Luna had gone to find that toilet and drink her cider in peace, there were two people fighting within a circle of cheering men. This time, however, they were women, rugose and alien in gas masks, and each of them had been armed with katanas.

They swung and the blades clashed. The impact caused a loud clatter to wobble through the air, and then the bedlam loudened as the women pulled back and swung again, and again, and again. Luna was shocked that the blades didn’t shatter from the force of their cybernetic arms. So much power put behind such strikes. Surely the material in the weapons wasn’t that strong… unless it was. Something like high carbon steel double-coated with zinc and titanium.

“You know why they call it the Pitching Yard?” said Beacon.

At the same time, Luna and Vanderman said: “Why?”

Beacon pulled the Jade roll-up from his pocket and lit it inside his mouth. He turned a mild glare at Luna and Vanderman, blowing a pall of that woody, herbal smoke in their faces. “This is where we test the products, ’course.”

“Where you… test the products?” said Luna disbelievingly.

He nodded. “’Course, what that actually means is people get bored and come up here to watch them be used in action. Tell me, you ever seen the Power Gauntlets take down a machine?”

She shook her head. “Can’t say I have.”

He took another puff on his smoke. “Couple weeks ago, when Glitch sold the Tier-1 gauntlets…”

“Couple weeks ago?” said Vanderman. “That can’t be right. He was meant to sell those to you a couple nights ago, wasn’t he?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I take it you got hoodwinked more than a couple times by him.”

That word – hoodwinked – was a facetious way of putting it, thought Luna, and a queer grin came over her face. It made her eyes wrinkle like an old woman trying to recognise someone who grew up way too fast. She ran a hand over the ashwound on her shoulder, still feeling the sting which continued to get worse with each pass of hot wind, and fixed her weapon strap over her back. “I take it he sold it to you a long time ago, despite all the bullshit he likes to spout about never planning to sell it to you in the first place?”

“I’ll admit that Glitch is a strange man,” said Beacon. “The idea that he was partnering up with Rick Steel and every other leader in the Triangle gave me goosebumps, mostly because I know what he’s like. I know he hates crime, and I know he can’t stand people like us.”

“That so?” Vanderman crossed his arms, intrigued. “The same man that has no problem working with the Legion and kidnapping innocent children is also against crime?”

“You know what they say,” began Beacon, “sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire.”

Suddenly, Luna had an idea, one that gave her a temporarily quick heartbeat. “You wouldn’t happen to know where he might have taken my sister, would you?”

Beacon shrugged. “Not my line of work. How old’s your sister?”

“Twelve,” she said, disappointed.

Another shrug. “No clue, but I know someone who might. Who probably does.”

She waited in anticipation for him to answer, and something like preemptive relief slipped down her throat. “Who?”

“Silica, ’course,” Beacon said, laughing a little. He blew another cloud of Jadesmoke. “Each sector of the federation has a different leader, but Rick Steel is the top man. He runs Zemon, Silica Gunn runs Betoda, and Lenny Bracket runs Lucklanta Bay. They all do their own little things with their own cronies, and make a shitload of money. Millions, ’course, and none of them give a damn crap ’bout any of us. Well, maybe except Silica. She lets stuff like this happen.” He motioned back to the two women fighting in the crowd, and Luna saw that the lady with spiky blue hair had been standing over the other, wrapping her in a chokehold.

“Is she gonna kill her?” Luna said, as if she cared.

“Who knows?” said Beacon, and he leaned in closer to her. He put a hand around her shoulder, and for a moment she could smell his terrible body odour. She winced as he pointed towards the far left side of the rooftop, across the shipping containers and helicopter port, and at what she could barely make out as a dark woman dressed in black slimjeans and a waistjacket. Her tightly shaved red mohawk started near her eyebrows and curved down to her upper back, and her left ear was pinned with a golden tree pendant.

“Silica,” said Vanderman gravely.

Silica turned, as if finishing up a conversation with someone, and began striding towards the fighting women. “Hey!” Her voice was heavily subdued by the crowd’s cheers. Luna saw for the first time what she had been holding in her right hand; it wasn’t a pulse rifle but instead a blue-rimmed laser katana. A battery was attached to the hilt, and attached to that were two plasma bulbs, one on each side. Then Luna saw Silica’s arm: a series of carbon-black cables which wrapped around the cybernetic skeleton. She stopped outside the crowd, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a revolver. She pointed it in the air and fired.

The crowd quietened, the women in the ring stopped fighting, and for a moment all there had been was Silica standing under the billboard rafter of the helicopter port as smoke billowed from the breech.

“We have a problem!” she shouted. “Two people dead in Sector 12 of the bottom base. Dick and Richie.”

“Those two assholes?” one of the men from the crowd said. He was sitting on an electrical box, wearing a sweat-smeared white vest, cleaning his nails with the tip of a tactical knife. “How’d that happen?”

“Gunfight,” she said. “Just got the word.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to have done it to themselves,” the same guy said. “You know how much those two hated each other?”

“We all hate each other,” Silica said. “But the bullet wound in Dick’s head was a phantom pistol, Milicorp. They must have gotten in.”

The man hopped off the electrical box and the crowd began murmuring again. “How’s that possible?” he yelled.

She spread her hands, her face glistering with perspiration. “No clue. Told the Meds to check on our frontmen. Shouldn’t have been able to get past ’em.”

Shit. Luna and Vanderman and Beacon approached the crowd to avoid looking out of place. She placed her hand on the upleading rail of the helicopter-port steps, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. “What now?” she whispered harshly.

“Snapshot her,” said Beacon coolly, taking another puff on his Jade roll-up. “That simple.”

But there were too many people in the way for her to get a good shot. Regardless, she tapped into her MD, zoomed in on Silica’s face, and…

She turned. The man from the electrical box had strode over to her, flicking his knife crazily in his hand.

“Shit,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” asked Vanderman.

Suddenly her ear-piece went off. “Everything alright?” Liz said.

“Can’t get a good angle on her,” Luna said. “She’s talking with someone.”

“Just wait it out, ’course,” said Beacon.

Luna’s eyes flicked past Silica’s shoulder at the huge ventilation pipes which sat beside the large rectangular electrical station near the edge of the rooftop, directly beneath the small billboard. When she turned back, she saw the Ferris-wheel-shaped lattice going over the shopping centre like the arc of a full moon. Giant, imposing, almost eerie. She had a general sense of where they were, which would make navigating much easier. Despite that, she was still worried about actually getting the anti-virus, and now having to break Beacon out without getting caught.

She hated that, really hated that. Had she known this before showing up she likely would have taken her chances with Dyker’s initial solution: that she should become a test subject for Zinc. Although she knew that she would be instantly recognised, but still… this was challenging, very challenging indeed.

Finally, after what felt like forever (although in retrospect it had probably been no more than a minute), Silica turned again, and she could see her face wholly. Luna seized the opportunity and zoomed in on her once more, triangulated the system’s AI so that a bold red line captured Silica’s face, each corner dotted with bulky ballpoints, and –

SNAP!

The image was taken. Immediately the AI uploaded it to the haptic suit’s cloud storage.

“It’s done,” said Luna. “I got her.”

“See?” Beacon laid his hand on her shoulder. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“We needa move fast.” Vanderman began to move back, and Luna began to follow, but a voice stopped them in their tracks:

“Who are you guys?”

Luna turned fast, and she saw that the closest man from the crowd, no more than spitting distance from them, had turned around too. He looked at them, brow furrowed, both sides of his mouth lifting in a sneer.

Gently, Luna raised her hand and splayed her fingers. “What do you mean?” She felt cold fear ice her skin, and one by one the hairs on her neck began to stand.

The man chuckled, and in a voice so loud and deep that for a moment Luna thought he had been speaking through a subwoofer, he shouted: “HEEEEEEEEEEY! SILICA!”

The crowd quietened once again, and all turned to face the man. Including Silica; her eyes sort of glazed past him without him even needing to expand, and then turned dark.

The man pointed at Luna and Vanderman without looking. “Who the fuck are these two?”

Luna stood there, frozen, unsure of what to say. She hated to admit it, but with this many people around, concocting an elaborate lie would be extremely difficult, and scary, so scary in fact that all she could do was give them a confused look and say, “You don’t remember me?”

And it hit her right away that that was the worst thing she could have possibly said.

The horde began murmuring to each other once again, and she could hear some indistinct noes and who the fuck is this?s mixed in with peals of laughter.

“Come up here,” Silica said. “You and the big guy.”

Beacon chuckled quietly to himself, and Luna thought briefly that he didn’t want to help them at all.

Luna stepped up onto the sunstruck helicopter platform and Vanderman followed. The crowd made room for them to walk.

“I don’t think any of us recognise you.” Silica shook her head, laughing. She raised her sword in the air, sending a glance across the people. “Anyone know these two?”

A shitload of noes.

“I’m Freya,” said Luna. She pointed to Vanderman. “This is Scratch.”

“Freya and Scratch?” Silica said, speaking with a tone to signify that she had heard those names before. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Lucklanta working for Lenny Bracket, or did you get let go all of a sudden?”

Luna was confused. “What?”

Silica grinned. “You think I don’t know who you two are?” she said. “You think we don’t have records of everyone in the Legion? As soon as you walked up them steps, my MD picked up on you. Two of you work in Lucklanta Bay. You deliver packages of Afterburner, ain’t that right?”

Were Freya and Scratch real people? This was very fucking bad!

“Yeah,” said Vanderman. “And that’s why we came here. To speak with you.”

Silica laughed again. That witch’s cackle. She aimed her revolver at him and cocked the hammer. Her smile vanished.

“Wait!” Luna put her hands up in defiance. “Just relax, would you? We’re on your side here.”

Silica smirked and pointed the gun at her. “How old are you, Freya?”

Static from Luna’s ear-piece. “Twenty-six,” said Liz.

“Twenty-six!” Luna shouted.

“They’re fuckin’ traitors!” shouted the man in the white vest. He had made his way over to the electrical box again and sat astride it.

“And you, big man?” Silica looked at Vanderman.

Static. “Thirty-five.”

Vanderman nodded. “I’m thirty-five, Silica. And we ain’t no traitors. We’re here on behalf of Lenny and Rick. That’s all.”

“Where were you born?” Silica pressed sharply.

Static. “Florida, January 2154.”

Vanderman repeated the information.

“Hmmmmmm,” cooed Silica. “Convincing. And you, Freya?”

Liz told her, and Luna said: “Zemon, April 2163.”

She lowered her weapon. “What business could Steel and Bracket possibly want with me that they need to send two cronies instead of contacting me themselves?”

“There’s some shit going down at the base in Zemon,” Vanderman said.

“What is it?”

“Contact problems. Storm supposedly knocked out the MD signal for miles in Lucklanta and Zemon,” Vanderman explained.

“I heard about that on the news,” she said. “Stage-three rainstorm, going on stage four, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is that they couldn’t contact you, and we needed to speak to you urgently about a business deal.”

“So what is it?”

“The deal?” Vanderman raised an eyebrow.

“No, the fuckin’ storm,” she said. “Yes, the deal! Go on, spit it out so you two can fuck off. Don’t know if you noticed, but we got some intruders, and to me you’re checking all the right boxes.”

“We have authorised access,” Luna said.

“Don’t give a flying fuck.” Silica brandished her sword. “Now what is it?”

“Probably best we discuss it in private,” Vanderman said.

She rolled her eyes. Then, as if suddenly realising something, she snapped them open. “No, actually… I want to hear you tell everyone about this deal. There’s no secrets here, is there boys and girls?”

The crowd laughed and told her no.

Silica motioned Vanderman and Luna to answer with the gun.

Luna shook her head, taking a deep breath. Her mind struggled to formulate a lie, just like before with that asshole Dick, so she waited for Vanderman to come up with one, but… he didn’t.

“I told you,” he said. “Best we discuss it in private.”

Silica smirked again, revealing the side of her wolfish smile. She was enjoying this. She saw right through them. Luna could tell. “What are those things called again… those suits that can make you look like a bunch of different people?”

“Them haptic suits,” said the man in the white vest, pointing his combat knife at her.

She snapped her fingers at him. “Bingo. Those. I think we got some ninjas in our midst.” She aimed her sword at the man in the white vest. “Rye, go up and check ’em.”

“Why me?” he said, already stepping off the box.

“’Cause I told you to, that’s why.”

He trotted back down the helicopter platform, his head craning from side to side, still flicking the blade around nimbly. He stopped at Luna, brought his knife up to the sheet of Dick’s pants which covered her ashwound, and curiously plucked it off. He saw the suit’s fibre struggling to fill the gap, moving around tirelessly, and Luna could see a bit of her damaged flesh.

Shit. Luna’s heart pounded and adrenaline came back in a horror-stricken spike.

“What…?” said Rye, sneering. Then, his eyes shot open. “It’s a suit alright!”

The crowd erupted in anger, shouting and hurling insults at the two. One by one they began to pull out their weapons: swords, barbed bats, crowbars, nailed planks, and truncheons. But no guns. None that she could see.

“Quiet down!” Silica shouted, but they didn’t. Eventually, she aimed her revolver in the air and fired again. That did the trick. “Shut up…. Now, you two.” She pointed at Luna and Vanderman. “Turn the suits off. I wanna see what you two look like ’fore I kill you. Understood?”

“But…” said Luna.

Silica fired at Luna’s feet and she jumped, feeling terror dig into her.

“Okay!” screamed Luna, and the horde brayed.

Trembling, she tapped into her MD for what she figured would be the last time in her life and disabled the suit. The fibres along her gas mask climbed down her chest and split, covering her cybernetic arms save for the wristport. Her hair, once again, transformed back to its electric-blue colour, and her green eyes winked in the sun, suffering the glare beyond the billboard.

Now twenty seconds had passed. Vanderman was back to his normal self. Rye was standing in front of them with a mature, shit-eating grin. Luna was desperately trying to control her shakes, but the fact that she had messed up trusting Beacon, who was still leaning on the rail, smoking his Jade without a care in the world, had angered her a fair deal. She fucked up. She should have went with her gut and not trusted him. She should have –

“Hey,” said Rye, pointing at Luna, “that’s that Portalla girl on the news, isn’t it?”

“The Cyber Devil.” Silica’s mouth gaped open fully, although in a facetious sort of way. “Well ain’t this a surprise!”

“Yaaah!” Rye said. “Yaaah! This is that bitch worth over… what was it?”

“A million bucks, Rye,” said Silica. Then, in a cold, eerie voice: “Dead or alive.”