Division Zero (10 page)

With one eye on the place, she pulled up their net presence on her mini. The company provided body modification without cyberware, using proprietary technology to restructure DNA strand by strand. After a few hours in a gel tube, you would literally be a different person. Their catch phrase ‘unlock the real you’ failed to soften the horrendous price.

Aesthetic redefinition, as they called it, cost tens of millions of credits for something as major as an ethnic change―a toy for the elite. Small procedures like adjusting one’s nose or boobs cost a ‘mere’ hundred grand or so. At least they required governmental notification for a face alteration; that made her feel safer.

Dorian’s hand blocked her mini. “He’s coming.”

Adrian emerged in a walking handshake with a man in a set of teal scrubs, a genuine smile the only visible change to his appearance. Kirsten tightened her body to the wall and drew her E90, causing a few people to scatter out of the area. She waited for him to walk past, and then called out in her most authoritative tone, “Adrian Lewis. Police. Show me your hands and don’t try anything. “

He held his arms out. His voice wavered with fear, as he glanced at her reflection on the window. “I’m not armed.”

She wagged her sidearm at the building. “Hands on the wall.”

He complied, assuming the position. “What’s this about?”

She advanced, reaching down to her belt to remove a set of binders from a case. “We’ll talk all about it once we get back to the station.”

“Look.” He rolled around, putting his back on the wall and holding his hands up. “I―”

Taking a step back, she raised her weapon again. “I said don’t move.”

“Hey… Relax, I’m not a threat.”

He sounded sincere, and she did not feel a psionic effect poking into her brain. Still, she waved him around with the tip of her laser pistol. He acquiesced with a belabored sigh.

“You’ve got the wrong guy. Whatever you think I did, I didn’t do.”

“I saw you pump up a credstick.”

He sent an incredulous stare over his shoulder. “Oh, that? Come on, really? What those Reinventions people charge for what they do is criminal, too.”

She guided his left arm behind his back and stuffed her E90 in its holster. “I didn’t say I was going to make a stink about it, but it is a reason to bring you in to talk.”

His eyes settled on her chest and drifted to her insignia pin. His pupils shrank as panic took over. The sudden change in his mood caught her off guard. He squirmed and grabbed her hand. The next thing she knew her whole body convulsed and flooded with searing heat. Foam dribbled out of her mouth and then the cold of the sidewalk crept in through her uniform. Falling had happened so fast she did not even notice it. She could not move except for the involuntary twitching that seized her limbs. The sizzling crackle of electrical sparks arcing from her ears into the metal ground rolled like deafening thunder; her body wracked with so much pain she could not even scream.

Damn electrokinetics.
People shouted in the distance, blurred sounds spiraled into growing silence. A man in a suit stepped over her; she caught a glimpse of a face almost amused to see a cop on the losing end of something.

She struggled to sit up, emitting a weak gasp, but succeeded only in lifting her head a half inch off the ground. Adrian hovered over her, offering a hurried apology, his eyes darting about as if searching the wall for instructions. She fought to move her arm to guard her face, but the spasms just worsened. Pleading with a stare, she could not say anything before a close-up view of his fist sent her into darkness.

ain cascaded in electric waves, screaming down her nerves. Random flashes of blue lit the darkness, warm rushes passing over her face. The pungent scent of trash reached into her conscious mind and tugged at her breakfast. The waking world intruded on the silent lightning, chasing the dim flashes away into the black. Touch returned, and with it came the spidery crawl of current rippling through her body, leaving convulsing muscles in its wake. A sensation of burning lanced through her left hand like a nail. She imagined it, pale and bleeding, and the smell of scorched flesh and her mother’s kitchen surrounded her. Frantic screams filled her thoughts but did not escape into the real world.

The cold caress of wetness startled her out of the nightmare. She remembered Adrian; she recalled his fingers digging into her hand and then the shock. His apologetic stare lingered in her mind, followed by a dull ache throbbing around her right eye, keeping time with her pulse. The surface below her did not feel like hard sidewalk; her weight sank into something pliant, something softer. Sound came next. Garbage crinkled, voices drifted around her in a fog, and somewhere in the distance, the hiss of cars gliding down rain-soaked streets. Loudest of all, the rapid rush of her breathing grew more and more intense until it was deafening. At last, her eyes opened.

Silence.

The silhouette of a man blurred into view at the end of an alley, framed by walls coated with the slime of neglect.

He had to be seven feet tall, covered by a huge, dull brown coat. Boots so thick they looked like something a colonial marine would wear for off-Earth duty seemed the perfect complement to his outfit. A dense mop of light brown hair flowed over his shoulders, shaped into two-inch thick ropey dreadlocks down to his belt. Bushy eyebrows the color of sand peeked over sunglasses lit orange by the glow of a combat cybereye behind the dark lens, and a wire descended from behind his right ear to a rifle that would give an armored vehicle pause.

As soon as she struggled to sit up, she realized metal binders locked her wrists behind her back. Kirsten gasped, paralyzed for an instant when she saw the empty holster on her hip. When she moved, a faint smile formed on the man’s wide lips. His features shifted as if carved from stone, and he stepped toward her, out of the light near the street. The size of the indistinct figure drawing nearer scared her mind into the past. She scooted backwards, trembling; a few seconds of panic triggered a furious but impotent struggle against the restraints. Feeling trapped and tiny, she looked at the towering figure with the same pleading expression that usually failed to sate Mother’s rage. The silhouette stepped forward again, out of the dark. His face edged into a patch of light; strong shadows spread over his face, dispelling her runaway mind’s worst fear.

Crap…
She shivered.
That’s not Mother. Get a damn grip, K. You’re not helpless. That bastard tries anything…
Her pathetic face fell to one of determination as she reached for that big mental stick called mind blast.

During training, she had been required to run a whole obstacle course in handcuffs to prepare for a situation like this. Without the safety net of friends and instructors around her, the sense of vulnerability came with dread uncertainty. He made no move to seize her; his advance ceased with a disarming look when he saw the face she made. She let off on the building urge to attack and recovered enough presence of mind to listen to his surface thoughts. She sensed concern; she let out a hard sigh of relief and slouched forward. Adrian left her unconscious on the street, and this man had gotten between her and a street gang that came to check out the helpless blonde chick. She looked at him, unable to contain her shivering, now just from the cold, as he leaned down.

His voice vibrated within her chest. “Are you alright, officer? The little bastard got away but he got a nasty jolt, apparently he didn’t know police weapons are fingerprint locked.”

Her sidearm emerged from his pocket, dangled by the barrel between two fingers.

A mech-apt should be able to override it, he must have panicked.

She tried to get her fingers around the metal digging into her wrists.
Son of a bitch put me in my own binders.

She knew better, but fear of vulnerability made her try. Despite her wriggling, the control buttons remained out of reach. As she squirmed, she slid off the pile of trash bags and rolled onto the wet ground. From there she could see a few gangers, some with visible cyberware, checking her out and making rude comments and gestures.

“He took off. I would have gone after him but those shitheads”―he nodded at the crowd― “I didn’t want to leave you alone with them while you were out.”

Still trying to squirm loose, she mumbled, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Uhm. Thanks…”

“Name’s Temple, actually Templeton Kross, but that’s a mouthful.”

“Kirsten. Forgive me if I don’t shake hands.”

She tried to squeeze her arms around her rear end, but the binders held her wrists too close together. Even at her size, she could not do it and gave up with a gasp. Kirsten gave him a sheepish glance, hating the feeling of needing help from someone other than herself. The more time she wasted, the farther Adrian got away.

“Would you mind?” She scooted to face away and tugged at the cuffs.

Large hands slid under her armpits and he lifted her back to her feet. She tensed as he put the E90 back in its holster and secured the strap over it. Her breath stalled at having a man this close to her while defenseless. Granted, mind blast did not care about handcuffs, but she kept the thought from intruding on her little fantasy. Somewhere in the time it took to go from sitting to standing, she experimented with the feeling of a big, strong soldier rescuing her. The presence of his cheek alongside hers sent a wave of warmth though her as he stooped down. She stood in silence, leaning into him and waiting. It took a full minute for her to notice he had not taken the binders off. Wondering what he planned, she turned to look into his eyes. He returned a placid smile and an expectant look.

“Oh, duh. 57281.” Her head sagged forward.

Subtle, K. Very subtle. I’m such a dumbass.

Faint beeps chirped as he keyed in the numbers. For an instant, she could not tell if she felt relief or disappointment at her freedom. She folded the binders back into their carrying case, unwilling to look at him as she fought the urge to blush. Templeton had stolen all thoughts of Adrian from her mind. She remained close enough to be all but leaning on him. His speech startled her out of her daydream as sure as if he snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“I know how cops are, so I didn’t call it in.”

Kirsten stood still, until she felt self-conscious about her lingering proximity. Taking a step back, she smiled. “Thanks… yeah, they would have teased me for years.”

I am so glad he can’t read my mind. Damn, that gun is huge.

Seeing where her eyes had gone, he chuckled. “Yes, this is a laser rifle. I have a card.”

His bounty hunter’s license looked legitimate; so did his thoughts. Searching for any excuse to stop staring at him, she checked herself out and found none of her gear missing. Some red finger marks on the back of her left hand remained from the shock. She rubbed them, grateful not to see blood. His height made her feel like a child.

“Thank you.”

“Glad I was in the area.” Turning to the crowd, he yelled in a voice so loud and sudden it made her jump. “Alright you scrubs, show’s over. Fuck off.” After a few dismissive waves of his hand, the group rejoined the flow of people on the sidewalk.