“Let her stay here for a week and work for me. We’ll get you all grown up Lil’.”
Gus shook his head painfully when he realized Johnny was being serious. “Now I need to forget what just happened.”
Johnny laughed. “You two go sit down. I’ll bring your drinks right over.”
Gus watched her every move as she turned and headed back to the bar.
Lilly sat down hard, activated her Pigeon, and scrolled through the feeds while Gus continued to watch Johnny prepare the drinks.
“Isn’t polite to stare,” Lilly said without looking up.
Gus broke out of his trance. “You sure have a lot to say for a dead girl.”
“You’re funny.”
Gus noticed a woman in the depot that definitely did not belong. Her hair was too well kept and her skin too smooth to be a Runner. She had a strong sense of frailness to her, and the uneasiness she was putting out excluded her from being anything but someone paying for a favor.
Sitting across from her was a hooded figure. This one he had seen before. Ripp had met with her once, but never said what it was about, only that it was better if Gus didn’t know, which still hurt a little. Gus and Ripp had been partners for years, and had never kept anything from each other except whatever it was that hooded woman and Ripp had discussed.
After the exchange of credits, the lady seemed relieved. She sat back and downed her drink. Johnny’s liquor wasn’t something you downed.
Definitely not a regular.
Gus knew what was going to happen next. The woman wheezed and coughed. She put her hand to her mouth and looked around to see if anyone else was experiencing the kind of pain she was.
Johnny set their drinks down.
“Here you are, you two.”
Gus grabbed her hand gently.
“Thanks, Johnny. Who is that?”
Gus pointed with his eyes, but Johnny didn’t need to see who he was asking about.
“The hood, I am sure you’ve seen before. Ripp did some business with her not too long ago.”
“Yeah, seems everyone knows about that but me,” Gus said.
“The fragile one is some city tramp that needed a place to cry about all her problems. She has clearance, so don’t really care. Paid her percent up front.”
“What’s the contract for?” Gus asked, realizing he might have overstepped boundaries.
“You know it ain’t my policy to discuss other people’s contracts,” Johnny scolded playfully.
“I know just how much you honor your policies.”
Johnny pretended to look hurt at such a remark, then moved closer to Gus.
“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll find out what little Miss Princess and the raincoat are talking about an’ tell you all about it. All you have to do is stop by and give me what I want next time you’re around.”
Gus finally ignored Lilly being there.
“I can do that.”
“C’mon, you two,” Lilly said, reminding them that she was still there. Lilly made a sick face, then buried her face as far as she could in her Pigeon display.
“If you’re curious, you can always watch,” Johnny said, knowing it would put Lilly’s discomfort over the edge.
“When was Ripp supposed to be here?”
Gus and Johnny both laughed.
Ten
Two soldiers dragged Bale’s body out of the room. A moment ago he was the most sought after insurgent in Nucrea. He had spent years hiding his identity, working through the Nucrean Guards’ system, until he was added to the armory’s security detail. Finally, the insurgents would be able to obtain enough firepower to take back their city, but someone betrayed him, betrayed everyone.
The insurgent group, called the Catalyst, had quickly gained momentum over the last five years in response to the emerging class system. The main population was kept impoverished, while a small, selective group seemed to be living without limitations, and people knew enough about the past to fear what that meant for their future.
Bale had joined the Guard to gather information about this privileged group, and gain access to the Council, but in the process, he uncovered plans to enslave the city through neural implants.
Bale had become close friends with a soldier who helped detain the wife and daughter of a brilliant man. This soldier explained to Bale that this man, who understood the old sciences, was being forced to help the Council control the people neurologically. Everyone would get an implant, soldiers included, that would govern everything they thought and did. He explained that the implants would be given as an enhancement, with the promise of a better life and resistance to the effects of living in the Fringe, but it was all a lie.
“I want the soldier that knew him questioned and taken care of,” Kurth said to one of the Elites, who had a thick, black beard and even thicker body.
“Sir,” the soldier said as he turned and left.
Two teenage boys, dressed in gray, frantically cleaned the blood. One of them struggled to fight the urge to throw up, which seemed to weaken the other boy’s resolve to remain composed as well. The fear of losing their control in front of the city’s military leader was the only thing holding back the vomit.
Yeong and Kurth, unaffected by the gruesome scene and indifferent to the boys, scoured over various displays on the holo-desk. One feed gave an overhead view of the raid, showing Kurth and his Elites overtaking the rebels at the armory; another feed had recorded Kurth chasing down Bale.
The boys finished cleaning, bowed, and left with their bloody buckets and linen bags.
Yeong took a cloth from his back pocket, wiped the blood and gunpowder from his pistol, and holstered it.
“Thank you for quickly putting an end to this. The Council will be pleased,” Yeong said.
“He was a soldier,” Kurth said, more to himself than to his father.
“He was a traitor,” Yeong shot back.
“That’s not what I meant, father. He had been in the Guard for years. I remember his promotion. I’m worried that if he was able to hide among us, that there might be others. Had our informant not warned us, we would have lost everything in that armory.”
“Regardless, you acted and I am proud of you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“It does, however, seem necessary that we watch our own more closely. This city has become ungrateful. They have wasted their freedom.” Yeong swiped a hand over the desk, closing the feeds, and looked at Kurth. “All of that will soon change.”
Kurth closed the door and came close to Yeong. “Should we expect the Market Barons to move on us after the Council is gone?”
“They all work independently from one another. They would most likely fight among themselves until there was only one left, but they are of no concern. An old friend is willing to remedy that problem for us, if it arises.”
Yeong turned and gave Kurth a father’s hug.
“Soon,” Yeong said softly.
Eleven
“When we were young, most of us were indoctrinated with a foundation of principles with the hope that we would remain unshaken in our humanity when faced with doom. We convinced ourselves, and our children, that we would be the white knights that would save the kingdom from darkness.
The Fringe, however, has a way of making you accept things that you once promised yourself you would never accept. Horrible things. After losing so many who tried to fight with seemingly righteous principles in mind, I realize I am only alive because I was better at killing than most. Instead of hiding and running, I seek out my enemy.
There are remnants of their pasts that surface here and there, but they are gone. Here, but gone. As always, I may not return and so I leave you with my prayer in the hope that you may understand. I do not ask for forgiveness, but if I do not return, I ask that someone stand in my place and become the one to continue this work so that many will remain unstained. This is my prayer.