Son of Sedonia (30 page)

“Won’t be active for long, sir. Nicks is talking to the central server right now installing an intercept algorithm on the trace,” said Kabbard. But he knew Sato’s reaction before it left the man’s lips.

“Meaning...Christ. It’s active and available for anyone to see right now, including the fucking Rindal estate,” said Sato. The Zeus and the Fury ships arrived at the nearest open pad in downtown Shibuya, away from the larger crowds. Kabbard, Nicks, and Andreas stepped out, checked their weapons, then holstered them under their coats. Kabbard kept talking.

“We’ve got no indication that there’s been any transmission to the estate.”

“Actually, sir,” Andreas said, joining the call stream, “the target has accessed—”

“Gotta deal with what’s in front of us. Let me do my job and we’ll have him within the hour, sir. Kabbard out,” Kabbard swiped across the call, ending it. He set his status to ‘
Busy: Try again later
’ then lunged at Andreas, grabbing the snake by the silk tie. Cocked back a shaking fist.

“Undermine me again. Please,” Kabbard growled, inches from Andreas’ crooked, wide-eyed face. Kabbard stared until a bead of sweat rolled down the kid’s brow, then released him.

“I was just going to say,” said Andreas readjusting the suit, “the estate has already been pinged. Nicks managed to tag it as a hacking violation, but it looks like the kid has charged over
fifteen
-
hundred
credits and counting to the trust fund,” Andreas smiled, revealing his crowded teeth. “One hell of a bar tab.”

33

Wasted

“WOOOOOOOO!” MATTEO HOWLED.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” replied the pumping throng of dancers around him. The room spun to the savage, rushing beat of the music. Or was that his head? It didn’t matter. In the center of the dance floor, surrounded by beautiful sweating bodies, Matteo writhed to the beat. His muscles twisting in the rhythms and shapes of Ninetown fire dancers. The moves spread through the crowd like a sweet infection. Closing his eyes, the vibrant explosions of The Singularity’s Neural display still seemed to be there. The music, the people, the colors. All of it throbbed in his blurred senses.

Opening his eyes again, a clear circle had formed around him. Everyone clapping to the beat. Matteo smiled wide and raised his arms toward the ceiling, stomping the heel of his foot.
One. Two. Three. FOUR!
He exploded into a staggered trot around the edge of the circle, leaned into the center, planted a hand, and spun both legs into a windmill. The cheers swelled in his chest. He realized suddenly that he was laughing like a maniac then collapsed back on the floor, holding his stomach. Dozens of hands reached down to help him up.

On his feet, the head rush narrowed the neon chamber and smiling faces into a dark tunnel. He shook his head. The cotton-stuffed heartbeat in his head slowly opened back to the full primal sound of the dance floor.

“More drinks!” He slam-dunked a hand through the air toward the bar. A short, feline brunette and a barely clothed blonde wriggled under his arms. Smells of sugary jasmine and alcoholic strawberries wafted from their tight, smooth bodies. The three of them led the charge to the bar. Customers waiting four-deep in line parted to make a space for them. Matteo released an arm and the blonde raised it high.

“I have a question!” he shouted.

A black, flame-haired guy in a dark blue vest came over. Matteo frowned. Lowered his arm.

“Yes sir! What can I get you?” asked the man. Matteo slumped forward on the bar, glaring at the man’s inability to stay in focus.

“Where’sss...where’s Liaaani?”

“Out back on her break, talking to a visitor. She’ll be right back, now what can I get you?”

“Nooo,” Matteo said as he pushed himself away and released the brunette. He turned around in a carousel of light to look for ‘the back.’ Braced himself on a stool for a moment. The door to the back parking bay swayed and multiplied on the opposite end of the room.

“I’m taking a break!” Matteo announced to the crowd. A few chuckled, but they seemed to forget him instantly. He wiped sweat from his eyes, then focused on the door. Each step was a prevented fall as he blundered through the psychedelic dance floor, pushing and barreling into people along the way.

“Watch it, asshole!”

“Hey fuck you, kid!”

The voices seemed to shout from half inside a dream. Shoving hands passed him back and forth like a soccer ball. Somehow he kept the door in sight. Finally getting there, he shouldered into the handle and flung the door wide. The sound of it hitting the concrete wall echoed off the curved walls of the space.

Rows of candy-colored hover cars lined the deck, their backs turned to the panoramic exit at the far end of the bay. A widescreen movie of the nocturnal City glistened beyond, silhouetting Liani and her visitor. A puff of smoke wafted up and away from the curly headed shadow. Against the ringing in his ears, their voices carried to him over the cool cement platform.

“So you just
broke it in half?!
Li, I realize you felt guilty, but it would have
buried
those responsible! Justice!” the male voice said. Matteo decided he didn’t like the tone. He took a couple steps toward them. The whole platform seemed to tip underneath his feet, turning his knees to noodles. He buckled at the waist and grabbed onto his thighs. The conversation continued.

“Yes! I did it! I helped them cover it up. You think I feel
good
about that?! No! I feel like shit! I haven’t
stopped
feeling like shit since I heard about the Raid! If that story broke
now
, what do you think would happen?”

“Revolution,” Corey said.

“You mean war,” said Liani, “Maybe a
civil
one. I thought it would save more lives if people didn’t know.” After that, there was a long silence between them.

“That’s not our job as journalists, Li. We give people the information, and they make up their minds. We don’t do it for them. I know you think you deserve to be back here in this shithole, but—”—

“It was a nice dream, Corey, but the reality...I can’t live with that kind of shit on my conscience anymore. At least here, I know what to expect,” Liani said.

‘Raid
.’ ‘
Revolution.’ ‘Civil War.’
The words echoed in sync with Matteo’s thumping heartbeat. Images of Rasalla materialized in front of him in fleeting but extremely sharp detail. Like watching a floating movie screen. The picture morphed and shifted to his glass cell on Themis. And as a familiar face appeared in countless ages and situations, another word rolled in his mind.
Jogun. Jogun. Jogun.
A flood bubbled up from his stomach and into his throat. Splashed onto the concrete.

Rapid footsteps approached Matteo like an EXO on the warpath. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the two blurry figures above him.

“What the hell are
you
doing back here?” asked Liani, stooping to help him. He wrenched his arm away.

“I’m okay! I’m okay, I can do it,” he planted his palm on the ground and crouched. The man Liani called Corey grabbed him under the shoulders and stood him up. Matteo swung a wild fist, nicking against Corey’s cheekbone.

“Whoa, chill the hell out, bro!” Corey dropped him back on the concrete as the door opened behind them. Matteo craned his neck. Caught an upside-down view of two bouncers coming toward him.

“I’m...not your brother...” Matteo muttered as the bouncers scooped him up, “I’m
nobody’s
brother!”

Minutes later, he landed on the front sidewalk like a sack of rotten garbage. People in the queue outside laughed like a pack of stray dogs. He crawled for a few feet before making the attempt to stand. An invisible metal shard jabbed him in the temple when he finally did.
Motherfuckers.
..
Blue ones.
He drooled a little as he snickered. The smile faded.
The Raid...Jogun...What does
she
know about them? She’s beautiful...

He stumbled down the line, pushed through the people there, and started back up the video block wall. People shouted up at him this time, pointing, laughing, and recording.
Whatever
. The wall-kick to the roof vents proved harder than the first time. His foot slipped during the plant and he caught the ledge by inches on his fingertips. Arms shaking, he heaved himself up and over the ledge, fell flat on the roof, then commando crawled all the way to the vent.

Someone was in the bathroom stall when he came crashing through the ceiling. Shrill screams pierced his eardrums as the stiletto heels threatened to pierce his skull. The cat-like brunette shoved Matteo to the side then stormed out of the stall. He crawled out like an old dog.

“AAAH! What the fuck are you doing in here! Out! Get out,” a familiar voice screamed. Matteo turned his bloodshot eyes to look.

“Liani? Liani!” he croaked, coughing as the recent injuries seized his lungs.

“Listen, buddy, you don’t belong here, you—”

“I know, I KNOW! ‘
Look at that wall
,’ right?! I should’ve...should’ve stayed on my side of the wall...” He heaved up to his feet. Braced himself against the stall bracket. Liani squinted her shining green eyes at him. In an instant, a pack of girls pushed through the door. Liani lunged for the opening and slipped through, leaving Matteo pawing at empty air. He followed her out.

The club had turned on him since he left. Jagged green vines and blooms surrounded him in step with a flurry of electronic notes. He felt his head loll back a few times. Everything was moving too damn fast. He focused on the curly red hair as it bounced away from him. Stopped. He grabbed her by the shoulders.

“The Raid!” Matteo screamed with tears in his eyes, “Whaddyu know ‘bout the Raid!? Can y-y-you take me home?”

She answered him with a frozen, wide-eyed stare. He let her go and hung his head, sobbing heavily. Liani didn’t move.

“Hey, here he is!” One of the bouncers appeared behind her and pointed at Matteo. Liani looked behind the bouncer toward the door. Matteo stood on tiptoes to see, then felt the blood drain from his face.
Kabbard!

“Kabbard? What would somebody like him want with—,” she stopped. Matteo plowed through the dance floor, dodging punches, elbows, and flying glassware on the way. Bursting through the back door, he found Corey talking to someone on a glowing display. Almost ran him over.

“What the—! Fuck, man, you don’t know when to give up!” Corey said. Before the door could snap shut, Liani swung it wide, knocking Matteo across the platform. Out cold.

“Oooh...I uh,” she glanced to the door behind her then back to Matteo, “Grab him,” she said, “We’re getting him outta here!”

“What?! Why?”

“Something’s up with him,” Liani said.

“No shit! What does that have to do with us?”

“I—just shut up and help me get him to your van!” Liani threw one of Matteo’s limp arms over her shoulder.

“
My
van?!” Corey gaped at Liani. Meeting her angry matron stare, he groaned and stooped under Matteo’s opposite shoulder.

“Fine,” Corey said, “but since this is your change of heart and your idea we’re taking him to
your
place!”

34

Resurrection

JOGUN’S STOMACH AND
back had ached for the past eight hours. He just wanted to sleep. To lay down and not wake up for at least a full night. But it was still dark when the nausea had roused him. Still dark when he decided to go up to the roof and let the others sleep. Morning had crested over the Sedonia City skyline by the time his feeble legs made it up the gnarled concrete steps. They throbbed with the sensation of a thousand pricking needles.

Two heaves came up dry, then his stomach went dormant. He collapsed back in the aluminum folding chair, staring up at the yellow ripples of dawn. The cheap-shit anti-radiation meds they had rationed to him on Themis had run dry in his veins before they even left. It took this long for his body to realize it was poisoned. Shivering in the morning haze, he pulled the moth-eaten fleece blanket up to his chin and tucked his arms underneath. Tried to breathe deeply. Into the belly like he’d told Matteo so many times.

“Maybe we understand each other better now, little brother,” he said, wheezing into the wind. Sighed a breathless sigh.

It was nice, at least, to be among growing things again. The rooftop garden hadn’t changed much in six years. If anything, it looked healthier. Happier. A strange island of life in a twisted metal ocean of smoking rubble. And the water was about to rise. He could feel it everywhere. Anger, madness, grief, and now...hope.
They think I’m that hope
. And there would be no stopping the war. Jogun heard Suomo and the others planning it in the rooms around him. Plans that depended on him. Another dry wretch gripped his stomach.

Padded footsteps came up the steps with a swishing of loose fabric. A low-humming tune lilted in the air as the sounds got closer. The corners of Jogun’s mouth creased in an attempted smile.

“I’ve always been a morning person,” said Utu in his half-laughing way. Jogun craned his neck to watch the man weave a path through the rows of leafy fronds. They seemed to nod as he passed carrying a steaming terra cotta bowl. The spiced fragrance of Utu’s chicken broth arrived before the broth itself, triggering a flicker of an appetite. Jogun’s nausea rolled right over it. He slouched back into the chair under the blanket as the doctor stopped next to him. After a waiting a few silent moments, Utu gave a little shrug.

“Hm,” Utu grunted. Placed the soup to the side on a stack of plastic crates. Jogun tried closing his eyes to calm his stomach, but felt a backward spinning sensation. The kind like he’d had after drinking his ass off then smoking up for initiation. An inability to hold onto the floor. He flashed his eyes open, focusing on the first thing he saw. The Border. As his tunnel vision cleared, the anxiety trickled back in. Became a deluge.
I can’t do this! I can’t!