The Rise of Io (2 page)

Ella had never seen anything like that outside of the movies, and she knew those kinds of fights were fake. This, however, was the real thing. In Crate Town, men got their way by being the biggest, strongest or meanest. There were few women here who could stand up to them. Maybe Wiry Madras by way of sheer meanness, but few others. Most resorted to cunning, cajoling or subterfuge. But this woman – this woman was something else.

Ella was so mesmerized, she forgot to keep her lips squeezed together. Her jaw dropped, and she took in a mouthful of garbage. She gagged and spit, then went back to staring at the woman.

Every so often, a random blow or cut would nick her, and she'd retaliate. A few more blows began to wear the woman down. She slowed, and the enemy attacks got closer, and soon she was getting struck more and more.

Ella held her breath, badly wanting to do something, to help, to fight alongside her. However, living on the streets, she knew the rules of Crate Town. She should not get involved. To her left, she noticed the man pressed against the wall. He had a silver stick in his hand, but he didn't fight. He just stood there, frozen, wearing a look of indecisive panic on his face.

This guy was leaving her to fight all these thugs by herself. This hit Ella right in the gut. He should be doing something! It was so unfair. Being smaller and scrawnier than most kids, she had often been bullied as a little girl. A righteous rage twisted and burned inside her.

She looked back at the woman. By now, more than half of her attackers were lying unmoving on the ground. However, the remaining three or four were beating her up pretty badly. Her movements were no longer beautiful; she was staggering from each blow. One of the men took a bat and jammed it into her stomach, doubling her over. Another punched her in the face, and she crashed into the pile of garbage not far from where Ella was hiding. The woman's eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Yet she continued fighting, struggling to her feet.

One of the men approached from the side, wielding a stick with two hands, ready to bash in her head. Ella watched the end of the stick hover in the air, about to end the woman's life. She looked down at the woman's face, and saw the determination still around her cheeks and mouth, even as the life in her eyes faded. Ella noticed the trinket around her neck and the expensive-looking watch around her wrist.

Something in Ella snapped. In a split second, she calculated the possible reward to risk for doing something. The woman was wealthy and there were only a few of those men left. Ella bet there would be a massive reward for saving her life. That, and honestly, it felt like the right thing to do, since that ass of a friend of hers was just standing there letting her die.

Ella jumped out of the garbage heap, shank in hand, and stabbed the guy behind the knee. He screamed and toppled over, and then the woman finished him off with a knife that magically appeared in her hand. She struggled to her feet and limped toward the remaining three thugs. She glanced over at Ella once, and then, without a word, focused on her assailants.

The three attackers weren't taking Ella lightly. They were clearly puzzled by this scrawny little girl holding a bloody object in her hand, and they maneuvered accordingly, trying to stay in front of both Ella and the other woman.

The woman attacked, baton in one hand and knife in the other. She swung them in wide arcs, and the sounds of clashing metal hung in the evening air. She ducked under a swing and jammed the knife into the sternum of one of the attackers. Another thug got behind her and was about to strike when Ella jumped on his back and jammed her shank into the side of his neck.

The woman turned to face him just as blood spewed from his mouth. She shot a side kick to his chest that sent both him and Ella crashing to the ground. Ella just managed to jump clear and roll away to avoid getting crushed. The woman nodded at her and, for an instant, smiled.

“Look out!” Ella cried.

The woman stiffened as the point of a blade suddenly appeared through her abdomen. She lashed out in a circle with her baton and struck the side of her attacker's head. Both bodies crumpled to the ground. Ella was on the man in an instant, her shank stabbing him in the chest over and over. She didn't know how many times she thrust downward but when sanity returned, she realized that her hands were covered in blood, and his eyes were staring off into nothing.

Ella looked at her hands and fell onto her back. She had never killed anyone before. At least, none she was aware of. She had stabbed dozens of people in her short nineteen years. Most of them had even deserved it. It was one of the occupational hazards of living on the streets, but she had never actually stuck around long enough to see someone die from injuries she had inflicted. Until now.

The woman next to her coughed, and her labored breathing snapped Ella back from her daze. She crawled over to the woman and checked her wounds. There was blood everywhere, and Ella could sense her life slipping from her body with every second. Ella hovered over the woman, frantic. She looked up at the man, still frozen in place near the back wall.

“Help me!” she screamed. “Do something! Save her!” She picked up a rock as big as her fist and chucked it at him.

It brought him out of his stupor and he rushed over. He checked her wounds and paled. He turned to Ella. “Where's the nearest hospital?”

“There's no hospital in Crate Town.”

The two of them tried to lift the woman but the instant they moved her, blood gushed from the wound in her stomach. Her eyes rolled back and she grasped the man's arm. “Make sure,” she gasped. “The news… Seth… reaches…”

And then she was gone.

Ella had seen enough death in her life for it not to affect her any more. Growing up during a war and then in the slums, she had seen terrible things. People beaten and robbed, their bodies left on the streets. The ravages of sickness and famine and starvation.

But for this death, Ella felt a terrible sadness. The feeling aggravated her. She lashed out at the closest person. She stood up and scowled at the man. “I saw you stand there doing nothing. Coward!” She was about to give him a swift kick to vent her frustration when she stopped.

The woman was glowing. A strange fog with sparkling lights was slinking out of her body until it formed a cloud hovering in the air. The tiny lights, thousands of them, blinked as if alive. The cloud began to float toward the man. And then it stopped, and then it moved toward Ella.

Ella yelped and retreated, taking several steps backward and tripping over one of the bodies. She fell onto her butt and began to crawl on all fours, trying to get away from this weird, supernatural demon stalking her.

The light floated directly above her and hovered. At first, Ella shielded her face, but then she peeked. First, one eye between her fingers, then both. Up close, the cloud with its thousands of swirling lights was beautiful. If this was a demon, it was an awfully pretty one. She reached an arm out toward it.

“You want her to be your host? You can't be serious,” the man said. “You, get away from the Quasing.”

Quasing? Ella had heard that name mentioned before in passing every once in a while. They had something to do with the war that had raged across the world for most of the past ten years. Is this what everyone was fighting over?

“She doesn't deserve you.”

Ella had no idea who the man was talking to. However, being told she didn't deserve something grated on her. She had already experienced a lifetime of ridicule, of being denied and demeaned. She didn't need this feeble man to pile onto it.

“Shut it, coward,” she snapped.

She reached for the living cloud, and then tiny bursts of light moved directly into her. Ella felt a jolt and a hard jab in the back of her skull. Her entire body clenched. She thought she heard a strange gravelly voice in her head that definitely wasn't her own.

This is probably a mistake.

Blinding pain punched her in the brain and Ella felt her stomach crawl up her throat. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out were the regurgitated chewed up strips of sweet salmon. The last thing Ella felt was the sensation of flying, or falling, or the world being pulled from beneath her feet as she hit the ground.

E
lla woke
up to a blinding headache, like someone had driven an ice pick into her skull. She groaned and opened her eyes to hazy blobs melting into each other. A piercing yellow light in the distance poked at her brain, and a strange fleshy object hovered uncomfortably close to her face. Something muffled was rustling off to the side, and in the distance, she heard a low ringing, as if someone was banging a gong.

Slowly, her vision cleared, and the mushy blobs unmelted from each other and took form. The fuzzy object to her right came into focus as it coalesced into the face of the coward hovering over her. He was looking off to the side, talking to himself.

Slowly, the words became coherent. “…obtaining supplies and logistic support since we're off-book, and especially with our low clearance. As for our current bind, I'll see what I can do about locating a nearby training facility, although who knows, maybe she'll jump at the chance to escape her current predicament. That would be best. Just in case, though, I'll run a search…”

Ella did the first thing any woman who lived in the slum would do in this situation. She threw a left cross and smashed the man in the face. The blow snapped Coward's head back and he fell onto the floor. Ella jumped to her feet a little quicker than she probably should have, and the room swayed. She found herself standing on a bed wearing only her underwear. Coward groaned as his hands massaged the nose she had just broken.

She saw her ragged and dirty clothes folded neatly on a dresser, grabbed them, and hastily threw them on. She eyed the door and then looked down at Coward. She'd have to pass him in order to escape. She clenched her teeth and made a break for it. He sat up and tried to block her exit, and she rewarded him with a kick that hopefully broke his nose even more.

“Get away from me, you pervert,” she screamed, making a mad dash for the door.

“Wait,” he said, reaching out and catching her ankle.

She kicked out over and over until he let go, and then she fled the bedroom. She ran down a narrow hallway and stopped in an open area overlooking an upstairs landing. Where was the door? How did you get out of this place? She paused. This was a really nice apartment.

Relax. Calm down, and take a breath.

What was that raspy weird voice? Who was that? Probably just her brain trying to keep her from hyperventilating. Thinking about breathing made her breathe even faster, and she frantically looked for a way out. She found a spiral staircase in the corner of the landing and took it downstairs. She ran down another hallway and swung open a door at the far end, only to walk out onto a balcony thirty stories up in the air. Cursing, she ran back down the hallway and came face-to-face with Coward in what she could only assume was his living room.

He held a hand out cautiously. “You need to calm down.”

Why was everyone telling her to calm down? That was the wrong thing to say to her, or to any woman for that matter. Ella tried to run past him and he shuffled to the side and blocked her escape. She tried to go left, and he shifted to block her again.

“Seems you didn't learn your lesson the first time,” she growled, and threw a punch at his face.

To her surprise, she hit air. Ella tried to punch, kick, claw, and anything else she could muster, but Coward, now ready for her onslaught, was able to block or dodge all of her attacks, and with relative ease, it seemed. Finally, he caught her wrist in one hand, and held tight.

“You're going to hurt yourself,” he said, and then swung around and put her in a headlock. “If you just calm down for a second, I can explain everything.”

Ella stomped down with her heel on his feet several times and then elbowed him in the stomach. He loosened his grip on her just enough that she turned around and struck him open-palm on his already busted-up nose. She hit him square in the face and he stumbled backward.

“Let me go!” she yelled.

“Can you just calm down for a second?”

Listen to him. Take a deep breath.

There it was again. Roaring, Ella charged, flailing her arms and trying to overwhelm Coward with sheer aggression. She failed. Coward knocked her to the ground with a well-timed shove. Ella landed and skidded to a stop against the wall. She picked herself off the ground, rubbing her bruised butt. Coward wasn't just some guy off the streets. He obviously had some sort of training. If that was the case, why hadn't he helped the woman? Why had he just stood there like a relatively large shit and forced her to fight all those thugs by herself? The memory of the fight set Ella off again.

“You're starting to annoy me,” he growled. “If you just give me a chance to explain…”

She scowled, grabbed a book off the dining table, and chucked it at Coward. He knocked it out of the air. She grabbed a cup, and threw that. He dodged. Ella began hurling everything within arm's reach. Coward continued to dodge and block until a glass ashtray smacked him square in the eye. He dropped like a sack. Ella grabbed a lamp and, wielding it like a club, ran over to finish him off.

Stop!

Ella was in mid-swing when the loud word in her head startled her. She let go of the lamp and it went careening through the air. It hit the kitchen counter and shattered. Ella glanced at Coward, then scanned the room. There was no one else here. She looked in the mirror and stared at her own reflection. She looked perfectly sane; at least, she thought she did.

Coward raised his head off the floor.

“You stay put!” she hissed, shaking her fist. “In fact, if I ever see you again, I'm going to cut off your balls.” She made a motion of stomping down on him, and he cringed.

Ella fled wherever this was, but not before robbing the place, swiping several trinkets and a bag of snacks off the counter. Finally locating the door, she left the apartment and took the stairs, not having trusted elevators since once being trapped in one for nine hours. Of course, she had never been on a floor in a building this high off the ground. After twenty flights, she was starting to rethink her hatred for elevators. By the time she reached ground level, her legs felt like rubber.

She exited the building and furrowed her brow at the stoplights hanging in the air above the nearest intersection. Where had Coward taken her? Crate Town didn't have stoplights at intersections, or tall buildings, for that matter. It took her a few minutes of sleuthing to realize she was near downtown Surat, a good distance from home. A taxi was too expensive, and the thought of spending money on a bus or a tuk-tuk aggravated her. She patted her pants and realized that neither of them were options anyway. She didn't have enough coins for the bus fare, let alone a tuk-tuk. That left walking or hitching a ride in the back of a truck heading in the general direction of Crate Town.

Ella scowled. Night had fallen, and most of the streets would be unlit, which was dangerous for someone who didn't know the area. There was not much she could do now except start walking. It took over an hour on foot, and she cursed Coward with each step.

Luckily, she wasn't harassed too much. Some guys had ideas when it came to lone women walking the streets late at night. She received a couple of catcalls, and a few propositions from those who thought she could be had for cheap. Nothing she wasn't used to. One rancid man living on the street grabbed at her as she passed. Ella had reached for her shank only to realize she no longer had it. Lucky for him, she guessed.

It was well into the night by the time she finally reached her container cluster. Home was a top floor double-container of a five-stack. She had purchased the first container from Old Nagu, her next door neighbor, after two hard years of scrounging and living on the streets. She had earned the second after spending the last two years of Nagu's life stealing medicine for him. He died anyway, but on his death bed, he gave his container to her instead of to his son.

The son, a businessman who didn't even live in Crate Town and only visited his father twice a year, objected. In fact, the man said that since Nagu never signed over the deeds to either property, he technically owned both and tried to evict her. She sent him on his way with a ruined shirt, a pint less blood and the need to see a doctor to get his leg stitched up.

Ella's footsteps clanged against the rusty catwalk stairs attached to the side of the cluster. The sound was soon joined by a low husky barking, and the two sounds alternated in the night. “Hello, Burglar Alarm,” she chirped, as the dog met her at the top of the stairs. The stray bitch lived at the side of the catwalk near the end of the stairway around the corner from her container. She had lived there ever since Ella first moved in. Ella would feel like something was wrong if she didn't hear the ugly mutt's greeting every time she came home.

“That's far enough,” she said, as the dog followed her to her container. Their relationship only went so far. Burglar Alarm probably had more fleas than the kindergarten down the street. Ella dug a scrap of food she had stolen from Coward and tossed it into the dog's nest. The mangy black-and-brown mutt scarfed it down and wagged her tail. Ella tossed her another piece, then went inside.

She closed her front door with a hollow
thunk
followed by the lighter-sounding click of the lock. She took a deep breath, and slowly let the air leave her weary body. It had been a much longer day than she had anticipated, and she couldn't wait to go to bed.

First though, she scanned the inside of her home. Everything seemed in place, nothing was moved or stolen. She had forgotten to lock her door one morning, and some drunk had tried to rob her. The guy had broken into her container and made a mess of the place. Fortunately, Burglar Alarm prevented him from leaving, trapping the man inside. Unfortunately, that meant there was someone trying to club her over the head when she came home. Luckily, drunks weren't too quick or accurate, and she had sent him off tumbling down the stairs.

She had wondered why the dog was acting so crazy when she returned. Now, Ella always took Burglar Alarm's warnings seriously, and she checked every nook and cranny every time she returned to the container.

Ella's two containers were welded together and connected by an opening in the middle. Ella had to hire welders to cut that for her after she took possession of the container from Old Nagu. The left side was the living room and kitchen, containing a lumpy sofa, a cardboard box, a small television, a portable burner and a mini-fridge.

The other room was her bedroom. It was smaller, since she had converted the last fifth of the container into a hidden room behind the closet that held her valuables. It was also a place to hide if things got rough. She had learned her lesson after she had scared off the drunk and found almost everything she owned that was worth selling stuffed into a pillowcase.

Thank goodness for Burglar Alarm and her ugly face and that mean-sounding bark.

After Ella did a pass of her rooms and double-checked the locks, she took off her clothes and tossed them into a basket. They would need washing soon. There was some blood on them. She wasn't sure if it was hers or belonged to one of the several men she had scuffled with tonight. Bodily fluids were where she drew the line when it came to laundry. Besides, she had hidden in a pile of garbage.

Ella frowned. For the first time, she noticed a bandage on her side. She touched it gingerly and grimaced. That stung. She looked in her cracked mirror and raised an arm. Her fingers pawed at the edge of the wrap and she peeled it back. There was a long red gash held together by some sort of glue. Whoever patched her up had done a neat job. It was probably Coward. She grudgingly felt bad for beating him up.

Oh well, she would apologize next time she saw him. No wait, she had promised to cut off his balls. If Ella had one weakness, it was keeping her word. That was one of the reasons she was so popular in Crate Town. It was an oxymoron, but she was one of the few con artists the people here trusted.

Then again, no one said she couldn't cut off his balls
and
apologize.

Ella twisted her waist to make sure she wasn't going to bleed out while she slept, and then, satisfied and impressed at Coward's medical skills, slumped to her bed to finally get some sleep.