At that point Boiled’s eyes moved for the first time. He looked straight at Balot’s right hand.
“So that’s where you’re hiding, Oeufcoque,” Boiled said, his voice floating across the air. An oppressive, expressionless tone of voice that made Balot feel like she was looking down the barrel of a gun.
“When did you submit your application to become the Trustee for the opposition?” Oeufcoque asked.
With cold light glinting in his blue eyes, Boiled replied, “This afternoon. That’s your employer, is it?”
Boiled jerked his chin slightly toward the girl, unimpressed.
“She’s the Concerned Party in this case. What’s the disclosure you’re requesting, Boiled?”
“I want you to revoke the Life Preservation Program,” said Boiled.
“That’s intimidation. Not a request. As ever, you really think that’s the best way to solve the case?”
“I’m not here to solve the case. Just suppress it. I want you to tell me what charges you are bringing against Shell-Septinos.”
“The district attorney’s office will publish that information in due course. Wait for the official announcement,” replied Oeufcoque, calm.
“I want to know in advance what the procedures will be in the event that the Concerned Party dies or absconds.”
“We’d still proceed with the prosecution, if that’s what you mean,” declared Oeufcoque, and the cold glint in Boiled’s eyes seemed brighter than ever.
“Are you frightened?” Boiled’s eyes suddenly moved toward Balot as he spoke.
Balot’s legs started shaking more violently than before. She did her utmost to keep her composure and return Boiled’s gaze.
“If you don’t want to die you should withdraw your petition and abrogate your rights as Concerned Party in this case,” Boiled said. Words that struck at the heart of Balot’s frail courage.
“Don’t listen to him, Balot. The moment you abrogate your rights is the moment no one will be able to protect you anymore.”
In her breathlessly tense state Balot barely managed to nod; she gripped Oeufcoque tightly in her right hand. Choking back the tears of terror and humiliation:
–I don’t want to die.
The feelings were welling up inside her, and she threw the whole lot at Oeufcoque.
She felt the glove enveloping her right hand getting warmer. Then Boiled’s voice filled the air. “I want to know the date of the provisional hearing and whether the Concerned Party will be appearing in person.”
“In three days. As for the rest, wait for the official announcement. And don’t even think about a repeat of today’s tactics. We’ll take you to the cleaners in court,” said Oeufcoque.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Boiled’s face twisted slightly. An inhuman smirk. “I’m looking forward to holding you in my grip again, Oeufcoque.”
Boiled climbed into his car. He closed the door and without further ado slid right by Balot’s car and drove off.
Balot watched the car move away.
–You know that person?
“We used to work together, in the past. Now we’re enemies.” Balot didn’t ask anything else—all her strength had suddenly drained from her—and she climbed into the car.
She closed the door and sat there, unable to do anything other than hug her knees close to her body.
She didn’t want to say anything. Just stay huddled in her shell.
“Trust me, will you? Just like I trust you,” Oeufcoque said. “By protecting you, I prove my usefulness.”
–Why me? she asked keenly. Oeufcoque didn’t have an immediate reply.
Tears started welling up in Balot’s eyes, pouring out on her lap as she held herself tightly.
Balot stayed there trembling, crying out of fear and regret.
The car drove on slowly. Not through Balot’s snarc, but on autopilot.
Cheerful music played on the radio. She was all cried out, and stared out at the night lights of the city with puffy eyes, eyes fixed on her transparent reflection in the window.
There were still plenty of rules that she had to endure. But the helpless fear was scraping away inside her, shaving off pieces of her will to resist and her feelings of hope.
Oeufcoque, still a glove, seemed like he was thinking about something, but suddenly said, “You’re not crazy.”
Balot turned her half-shut eyes toward the glove on her right hand.
“The way you think and the way you feel—both are completely normal,” Oeufcoque continued. “That’s the reason that I want to serve you and to settle this case.”
–This case?
“There’s absolutely no reason why you deserved to die. Yet you were locked in a car and had third-degree burns inflicted on your whole body. We’re going to determine the motives and the aims of the killers and expose them to the world.”
–My case?
“That’s right. As the Concerned Party in this case you chose Scramble 09, acquired your technology, and obtained the thing right in front of you: me.”
Balot tried to think about this but wasn’t very successful. She couldn’t think what she could do. If there was anything that she could contribute, surely it was her newfound abilities?
She was starting to lose sight of what she was trying to do.
The roads were congested. The Nav wouldn’t let Balot maneuver like she just had in the car chase. Listening to the radio as she watched couples and parents with children drift by in similar rental cars, eventually she snarced the car.
–Will you explain to me why I need to appear at the trial?
“Well, to be precise, nothing’s coming to trial as such, not just yet. What we’re doing right now is trying to establish that Shell is indeed the right suspect. Your appearance should be able to formally establish that we’re accusing the correct suspect—Shell—and at the same time will give us approval to progress the case further.”
–In what way?
“We want legal proof of the fact that, behind the scenes of your attempted murder, much bigger and more systematic wrongdoings are taking place. We’ll get a big reward from the Broilerhouse by solving this case.”
–And if I’m not around you won’t be able to do that?
“Exactly. If the concerned person in the case disappears then there’s nothing more that can be done. The Broilerhouse and the Hunters will just wrap things up as they see fit.”
–That’s why you’re protecting me? Or making me protect myself? And what do I get from this bargain?
“Let’s see. Your life, your dignity, closure, and money to live. Does that seem about right?”
–Oeufcoque?
“Yeah?”
–Do you mind if I take a little drive?
“Of course not. Do as you like. Let’s just get home before it gets too late.”
Balot’s car headed from the East Side toward South Street. The air outside, glowing with the lights of the city, seemed to Balot like brittle glass that would break at the slightest touch.
Balot switched the car heater on and attached the sleeves to her top. As if she were binding herself up.
“If you wrap yourself up too tight you might break the equilibrium in your cortex as it tries to repair itself. It’ll also put strain on your internal organs.”
–But I feel safer this way.
So saying, she stared at the glove. Her eyes were more focused than before, and she perceived Oeufcoque’s existence more keenly than ever.