‘Ow.’ She sat straight-backed and topless before the balcony view through the windows, legs crossed firmly beneath her, maintaining rigid muscle pressure. Vanessa sat behind on a footstool-cushion, and dug small, hard fingers into Sandy’s shoulders and neck.
‘Ow yourself,’ Vanessa retorted. ‘You’re practically made of steel, you can’t tell me that hurts.’
‘Until you get a full body-transplant,’ Sandy replied, ‘I’ll keep my own council on what hurts and what doesn’t, thank you. Besides, you’ve got full arm augmentation — I can feel it.’
‘Which makes me nearly a hundredth as strong as you.’ Thumbs pressing hard behind the top of her shoulder-blade. Tension resisted. And fled pleasantly. Another hard twinge, muscle knots slowly coming undone. That was what hurt, not Vanessa’s pressure. But it was a good pain, and she enjoyed it. Rhythmic Latino drumming reverberated from the room speakers — Vanessa’s favourite music, she insisted. Brazilian rumba, Spanish flamenco, Argentinean tango … and not a Hispanic bone in her body, she insisted further. The guitars sounded wonderful, the drumming hypnotic and set her swaying invisibly, irresistibly from side to side. The male baritone quavered and cried, full of passion. The massage relaxed her shoulders, the gentle loosening spread downward through her body. Beyond the windows and the balcony railing green suburbs glistened wetly beneath the grey sky. Lightning flickered in the middle distance. For the first time in what seemed like an age, she felt calm and relaxed, and basically happy.
Vanessa’s fingers worked down to her left shoulder joint, probing more gently. The red line of recent incision formed an angry, perfect circle about the joint.
‘How’s that feel?’ Vanessa asked with concern. Sandy shook her head.
‘It’s fine. Harder — that’s too soft, I can’t feel that.’ Stretching her spine, shoulders back, ankles pulled in tightly beneath her buttocks. Vanessa’s fingers pressed harder, muscles twinged, tendons releasing, and she felt the whole combination of arm, shoulder and shoulder-blade across to spine begin to loosen further. She flexed again, a ripple of muscle across her shoulders, a wriggle of spine.
‘Wow.’ Vanessa worked at the shoulder joint, feeling about the circumference with penetrating fingertips. ‘Wish I had shoulders like yours. And hips. You’re nearly as broad as a man.’
‘I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,’ Sandy returned, eyes half closed as she held her posture firm, ‘even though I’m deeply offended.’
‘Why should you be offended?’ said Vanessa. ‘I hadn’t thought your sensibilities would be so shallow as us superficial civvies.’
‘Oh crap, I like being a woman. Here grab.’ She held her left arm up over her head. Vanessa took the wrist and pulled across. Sandy winced as the joint stretched, and muscles popped loose down her left side, knots melting away. ‘I like looking good, I like the way my body’s put together even though it’s occasionally been inconvenient in an armour harness, and I definitely like multiple sexual positions and multiple orgasms. I also like my breasts, even though they do me no good whatsoever as a soldier and I’ve often wondered why they even gave me any, except that the people who thought me up were men and couldn’t stand the idea of their most advanced GI being flat chested. Harder.’ Vanessa pulled more and the stretching became intense. Vanessa had arm augmentations all right. No unaugmented human packed that much power with so little leverage, male or female, let alone a Vanessa-sized female. ‘Luckily I’m strong enough that it makes no difference if I’ve got them or not. But I’m thankful for it. How superficial is that? Enough.’ Vanessa let go and started work on the other shoulder.
‘Multiple orgasms?’
‘Yep.’
‘That wasn’t planned, was it?’
Sandy repressed a smile. ‘No. Just developed that way I guess. Funny things, brains, synthetic or otherwise. Can’t ever tell how they’re going to grow.’
‘How many are we talking about here?’
‘What, orgasms?’
‘No, Sandy, blackhead warts.’ Sarcastically. ‘Of course orgasms, what else d’you think I’d be so interested in?’
‘Why?’ Challengingly, flexing the right shoulder now as Vanessa worked. ‘Don’t you?’
‘God no.’ Exasperatedly. ‘Not in this marriage. I guess I did a few times before …’
‘With men or women?’ Suddenly very curious, in spite of herself. Vanessa frowned.
‘Women, I think. Mostly. And very rarely then … Come on, how many are we talking about? You didn’t answer me.’
‘Oh …’ Sandy made a face, thinking about it. ‘No real limit. It just takes progressively more time to get there until I figure it’s no longer worth the effort.’
‘How much more time?’ With great suspicion, pressing hard with the fingers of both hands.
Sandy smiled, guessing the reaction in advance.
‘Oh … could be a couple of hours on a slow day.’ The massage stopped.
‘You’re joking.’
Sandy shrugged. ‘Or ten minutes if I’m in a rush. No matter.’ Wriggled her shoulder admonishingly. ‘More.’ Vanessa resumed work.
‘And there were GI companions of yours who could last a couple of hours?’
‘Oh no. God, GI men are even worse than straights, takes a great effort to slow down. Mostly. No, if I had a few hours to spare I’d take turns …’ Strangled sound from Vanessa. Sandy grinned, and tried an unsuccessful glance over her shoulder. ‘What?’
‘You weren’t kidding with Ibrahim?’
‘No, of course not.’ Patted Vanessa’s hand reassuringly, as if to a slow child. ‘I’m a GI, Vanessa, I’m not conditioned to get jealous, neither were my comrades. When you can have anyone you want, there’s nothing to get jealous about. Pull.’ Holding the right arm up over her head. Vanessa grabbed and pulled across. More luscious unwinding down her side and back. Something popped near her hip.
‘Sounds like fun.’ With what Sandy thought might be genuine envy.
‘Oh it was. I could go into details if you liked?’ Vanessa, she thought, might find it entertaining. Most civilians seemed to Sandy woefully inexperienced in such matters.
‘No,’ Vanessa said firmly. ‘With my sex life like it is now the last thing I need is visions of wild, lustful frolicking in my head.’
‘You’ll change your mind.’ Windmilling both shoulders together.
‘Smug.’
‘More so by the minute. Now, what I want you to do … get that stool out the way, get a knee into my lower back here,’ gesturing with one hand, ‘put a forearm around my shoulders and pull back hard.’ Vanessa frowned, pushing aside her footstool seat, knelt on one knee and positioned the other against Sandy’s spine, as indicated. Wrapped the forearm across the front of her bare shoulders.
‘How hard?’
‘Hard as you can.’
‘Um … that’s pretty hard, you’d be surprised.’ Repositioning for a firmer grip, the knee digging in.
‘Unless you can break ferrous alloy barehanded, I’ll be fine. Go.’ Straightening her back to its fullest. Vanessa settled once more, braced and yanked back hard. Sandy felt her spine crack, an abrupt wrench through her back muscles, and let out a hiss. Which turned to relief as more tension evaporated and the looseness spread further, into midriff and buttocks.
‘Okay?’ Vanessa asked, still holding on to prevent her from overbalancing backward.
‘Fine.’ Easing back to upright, flexing some more. ‘Fantastic. That’s much better.’ The smaller aches and pains were largely gone for the moment. She’d been getting them everywhere lately, both from the usual stiffening reflex and the obvious recent trauma.
‘You fit back together pretty well, huh?’ Vanessa suggested, reading her mind as she sat back on the footstool and returned to the shoulder massage.
‘They get straight amputation human patients back ninety percent functional in a couple of weeks these days. I’m far easier — organic systems are so messy.’
‘You can generate a lot more power than any straight human,’ Vanessa pointed out. ‘Makes any weakness more difficult.’
‘Yeah, well, I won’t be punching holes through ferrocrete any time soon. Head please.’ Indicating her neck.
‘What, like this?’ Vanessa wrapped her head with both arms, a basic neck-breaker hold, hands positioned for a fast rotation,
‘That’ll do. Not so hard, that’s my one vaguely vulnerable bit. Don’t tell anyone.’
‘Wow, I found one,’ Vanessa replied with humour, and pulled her head gently around to the right, increasing pressure gradually. ‘You mean I could actually hurt a GI doing this hard enough?’
‘Um …’ Sandy considered, face half wrapped in Vanessa’s tense arms, ‘… you could strain a neck muscle at a connection … the connections are the key, that’s where the FIA got me. Muscle bundles come apart at the connection ends and reseal again super-hard. That’s why I healed so easily, it’s partly designed that way. Bone joints too. Muscles themselves you can’t separate mid-length short of an industrial laser. But if I overstrain a connection joint … yeah, that can be trouble.’ Vanessa reversed the pressure, pulling her head the other way. ‘A guy I served with popped several simultaneously trying to lift something he shouldn’t have. Collapsed like a string puppet. But that was silly — he was working on five tons at the time.’
‘Oh man.’ Vanessa laughed in disbelief. ‘What about your throat? That’s gotta be vulnerable?’
‘Jugular’s in the spinal column, I don’t have a pulse there. If the windpipe’s severed … well I don’t need as much oxygen. And it’s well protected, the main neck tendons here …’ she tapped with a hand, under Vanessa’s arm, ‘… here, feel this.’ Vanessa released and took Sandy by the throat right-handed. Sandy rolled her head, arched her neck and tensed up. ‘Squeeze,’ she said. Vanessa did. And gasped.
‘Oh Jesus. That’s like steel.’ Sandy could barely feel the pressure past her own tension. Tension always reduced sensation, sometimes entirely.
‘Stronger. That’s the wonder of synthetic myomer, it changes consistency to match the required stresses. Flexible structures are always stronger than fixed and brittle ones.’ The old basics. She’d explained it many times to straights in the League. Some had received it with more interest than others. ‘If you put me under a guillotine, you’d only blunt the blade.’
‘And if you used proper striking technique …’ Vanessa broke off, as if something was just occurring to her. ‘Jesus Christ, Sandy, just how dangerous are you? If you can control and release tension at the right moments when hitting something …’
Sandy didn’t like the tone of her voice, turned to face the small SWAT lieutenant and rested hands on her knees. Looked her directly in the eyes. Vanessa gazed back with no small incredulity.
‘What?’ Sandy asked, frowning slightly. ‘What does it matter how much damage I can do? What matters is what I choose to do with it, surely?’
‘But, I mean …’ Vanessa blinked rapidly, as if not knowing quite how to put it, ‘… control’s not a problem? I mean … so much power! It’s unbelievable.’
Sandy sat back on her haunches, back straight and stretching. Head to one side, considering her for a moment. Deliberate provocation, topless, clad only in SWAT-issue cargo pants, an elastic waistband that barely managed a proper fit over her hips. Vanessa stared back, watching her eyes, she noted with that much admiration for Vanessa’s self-control. And on that moment’s inspiration she got up on her knees, put her hands firmly on Vanessa’s knees and parted them wide. Shuffled forward into the space that provided, and moved both hands to Vanessa’s slim shoulders. Looked her very directly in the eyes at point blank range. Vanessa looked back suspiciously, but made no attempt to move or protest the proximity.
‘Vanessa.’ With amusement. Something about the situation just struck her as amusing. The differences that sprung up between herself and every straight she’d ever met, and ever would meet. Such enormous differences. So inescapable, and all-encompassing. And so trivial. ‘Don’t think of me as a body, Vanessa. That’s just the package. I’m in here.’ She tapped her temple with a forefinger. ‘Just like you’re in there.’ And patted the side of Vanessa’s head with her hand. ‘Can you see me? When you look at me? Or is it just the package?’
Their gazes locked. Blue eyes gazing into brown. So close, Sandy thought, of the eyes and the lovely, almost girlish face before her. So very close. If only distance could measure understanding. If only…
‘I can see you.’ Vanessa’s voice held the faintest touch of a smile. It showed on her lips. ‘It’s in your eyes.’
‘And in yours.’ Smiling crookedly in return. Vanessa held her gaze without effort. Shared her humour, even though she remained uncertain of what precisely was funny. It was rare. So rare, to find a straight … a non-GI … who would do that. Meet her gaze without flinching. She felt inexplicably warm. ‘I like you, Vanessa. That’s not a GI thing, that’s one of those messy, unfathomable human things. I’ll never be any more dangerous to those people or things I like and value than you will. I’m only dangerous to those who’d hurt them.’
‘Yeah, but that’s the thing,’ Vanessa said soberly, her smile fading. Beyond the delicate features, she looked suddenly mature, wise and calm. A SWAT commander. ‘Who defines ‘threat’? And how? In a civilian world? A lot of things threaten me, Sandy. A review board could threaten my job, internal politics could threaten my standing and reputation, my goddamn husband could threaten my emotional stability and sanity … they all could be dangerous, in one way or another. You gonna be dangerous to all of them? In this city? It’s not a war any longer, Captain. You’re a civilian. Have you had time to figure out yet what kind of civilian you want to be, with your abilities?’
Sandy blinked, softly. ‘What kind of civilian do you think I’ll be?’
‘Whatever kind you choose. S’up to you, girl. Who d’you want to be?’
‘The kind whom good people feel safe to be around.’ It was such an obvious answer. It emerged from her lips the instant Vanessa finished the question. Vanessa sighed. Brushed some stray hair back from Sandy’s ear.
‘Well, that’s not so hard, I suppose. In the CSA. And a few other places. But…’ she glanced aside, lips twisting wryly, ‘… I mean, given what you are … there’ll always be someone.’ Looked her back in the eyes again. ‘I reckon you’ll just have to learn to live with it.’
‘I suppose.’ It was disheartening to know that Vanessa thought so. But then, she supposed, she already knew as much herself. Vanessa slapped her on the arm.
‘Now get your damn tits out of my face. There are worse things in life but I’ve got work to do.’ And gave her head a playful shove as she made to get up. Sandy retaliated, a lightning grab and yank at her arm, and Vanessa was abruptly in her arms with a surprised yelp.
‘I should warn you though,’ she added in Vanessa’s ear, in what she thought were far more eloquent tones than Vanessa ever managed, ‘as a GI, there are some things, like being pushed around, that are beneath my dignity.’
‘How did you do that without breaking my arm?’ was all Vanessa wanted to know, grinning broadly at the surprise.
‘You still don’t trust me, do you?’ With mock offence. ‘I told you, it’s just how myomer works — below critical density I can’t cause damage. It’s only when I tense you get the real power.’
‘But isn’t that difficult?’ Held off balance and tipped backward in Sandy’s embrace, Sandy’s chin on her shoulder. ‘Finding the medium?’
‘Halfway between an art and a reflex,’ Sandy replied. ‘If you don’t know what I’m saying I can’t describe it to you. Mostly I’m not even aware I’m doing it. Now, you going to that chair?’ Nodding across the room. Vanessa looked.
‘Oh no, don’t you … no!’ Protesting loudly as Sandy shifted grips and lifted her effortlessly, gave her a mid-air heave to get the grip right. ‘Sandy!’ Having at least more sense than to fight. ‘Sandy, for godsakes, I’m not your damn toy!’ But she was laughing. Sandy carried her comfortably across to the work chair before the terminal and placed her carefully into it, with only the faintest rippling of shoulders and biceps to mark the transfer of weight.
‘What were we just talking about?’ Sandy asked her, leaning close with mock impatience. ‘Trust?’
‘Trust?’ Incredulously. ‘Trust you how, in respecting my dignity? Get outta here y’big blonde ox!’ And spoiled it by grinning, the SWAT commander all evaporated of a sudden, replaced by the impish little girl. Sandy gave her chair a hard spin and walked away, windmilling her arms.
‘I’m one-hundred-and-sixty-eight centimetres, Vanessa,’ she replied primly, as Vanessa stopped her rotation with a foot against the desk. ‘I am well proportioned, extremely sexy and assuredly feminine. I am not an ox.’
‘Are from where I’m sitting.’ Activating her terminal with a good show of looking annoyed.
‘A mushroom would look tall from where you’re sitting.’
‘Watch it.’ And tapped again at the keyboard. Frowned distractedly. Tapped again. Sandy sat on the floor before the windows, legs spread wide before her, grabbed one ankle and pulled herself down to it. Another several taps from Vanessa and Sandy caught the brief sense of Vanessa’s own transmission code from her interface augment.
‘What’s up?’ Switching legs and pulling hard, hamstrings resisting with irritating force.
‘I’m just requesting duty files,’ Vanessa replied with puzzlement. ‘It’s not coming through.’
‘A data-glitch in Tanusha. I hadn’t thought it possible.’
‘No, it’s no glitch.’ Even mare puzzled. ‘The request’s just not getting through. It’s telling me it doesn’t recognise my access code.’
‘Hang on.’ Leaned low over her right leg, Sandy uplinked to Vanessa’s apartment system. Found Vanessa’s active link, followed it racing along the network, through the mass of encrypted connections and light-fast traffic. And hit a barrier wall about the various key operational systems within CSA establishment … It was certainly surprising. And very selective, she saw, pulling back to a more suitable range, observing the way the barrier software isolated only those command-and-control elements … ‘That looks official.’
‘No shit.’ Tapping more keys in coordination with her own reflexive uplinks with increasing alarm. ‘I’m not getting interface with Ibrahim. Nothing, nada, zip. Or Parliament. What the fuck’s going on?’
Something felt hollow in Sandy’s gut. A slow, sinking feeling. And a growing fear. Something she’d missed? Electronic sabotage of the leading government institutions just wasn’t possible in a city like Tanusha, it had to be something else … she let all seeker programs fly across the network, racing in a myriad electronic directions to search, for causes, key fragments, command codes … What was going on? And if something had happened within the government…
Vanessa beat her to the next thought, leaping up from her chair and running for the gearbag on the table. Sandy was up a split second later, darting for her discarded shirt and pulling it quickly on, followed by her shoulder harness, as Vanessa pulled firepower from the bag and began checking and loading. Sandy left her automatic systems to search the further areas of the net, turning her attention instead to the local network, the building security, the neighbourhood hookups …
‘See anything?’ Vanessa asked, smacking in a last magazine and tossing the snub-rifle her way. Sandy caught one handed, rechecking her pistol in the holster beneath her hastily shouldered jacket, established interface with the rifle’s CPU and sighted briefly along the muzzle without physically looking.
‘No. Could come in by air.’ No way of hacking into those systems behind those recent barriers. And suddenly the apartment looked very vulnerable, the broad open space of windows that overlooked the Santiello streets, and could afford a sniper a comfortable shot from anywhere within that sprawl of city…
‘Minder,’ Vanessa once again read her mind. ‘… window polarise, one hundred percent.’ And the glass faded to near-full blackness. The view remained visible from the inside, though now heavily shaded. From the outside, all would be black. Sandy backed away from the windows toward Vanessa, standing near the door, rifle in hand, eyes wide and alert with dangerous calm. ‘Sandy? Any idea what just happened? I’m still getting nothing — it’s like the entire Tanushan C&C has been branched.’
A sudden reception message, internal visual, one of her autos speaking back … she accessed, and received a veritable flood of data-visual information, cross-references and details …
‘Sandy?’ She overloaded for a moment, searching on full concentration.
‘Governor’s office.’ Sandy couldn’t quite believe it as she said it. Partly because it made so much sense. She hadn’t wanted it to make sense. When these kinds of things made sense, in her experience, bad things followed. ‘It’s Governor Dali. That’s what we missed. He’s taken control of the Parliament.’
‘He’s what?’ In utter disbelief. ‘He can’t do that! He … he’s just the Governor! Fuck, it’s … it’s ceremonial…!’
‘Callay is a member world of the Federation,’ Sandy recited almost wearily, half for her own benefit, just to hear someone say it and make it real. It was so obvious. The most elusive possibilities were always the ones directly under your nose. And mostly because no one ever believed their opponent would have the unmitigated gall to do something so brazenly obvious. ‘All power rests with the Governor, on the Federation’s behalf. The President was nearly assassinated by Dark Star GIs. That involves the possibility of war with the League, which directly concerns the Federation. If Governor Dali feels the present administration is not acting in the best interests of the Federation, he can take over the administration. He has the master codes to all the relevant systems — he can reroute the entire administration through his own offices …’
‘Why?’ Vanessa bit out, tight-jawed and fuming. She no longer looked wary, backed against the wall by the doorway, black, short-nosed firepower clutched comfortably in her right hand. She looked furious. ‘What’s it gain them? What’s it gain anyone?’
‘… thus halting,’ Sandy continued with increasing steadiness as her combat reflex began to assert itself, ‘any present governmental activities subject to the Governor’s review. That means all CSA investigations. Which means the FIA, all the people we’re hunting, can now get away scot-free.’ She shook her head in disbelief, eyes distant with consideration. ‘It’s beautiful really. A piece of art. Attack the President to force the Governor to invoke Federation privilege, and it’ll get you all the protection you need from the CSA. If they’d actually killed Neiland, they would have done this yesterday. I just delayed them a day.’
‘You reckon the CSA’s gonna stop just because some mad lunatic Governor says so?’
‘Try running an investigation without your master codes,’ Sandy replied. ‘He can shut down the whole CSA. He can shut down everything.’ Vanessa just stared at her with incredulity. ‘I think if you check through Dali’s file and personal staff,’ Sandy told her, ‘you’ll find there’s FIA backgrounds everywhere. Just a hunch. It’s all the same thing, Vanessa. The FIA have tentacles everywhere. Trust me, I know.’
‘Like you knew about all those codes for so long without telling anyone?’ Sandy blinked, staring at her, not expecting that. For a moment she was too confused to speak. ‘Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…’ with tight-jawed frustration, sparing the darkened, recently familiar apartment another fast once-over, ‘… just … Jesus, Sandy,’ turning back to fix her with a hard, penetrating stare, ‘figure out where you’re at, huh? No more secrets. You’re CSA now.’
‘Then why are we suddenly expecting an attack?’ Sandy replied. Registered Vanessa doing a fast security scan of the premises and surrounding vicinity for suspect accesses or monitors … no real need, she had it monitored well enough herself. But maybe anyone incoming would know that and wouldn’t bother trying.
‘Dali’s not CSA,’ Vanessa replied tightly. ‘Come on, we’re leaving.’ Smacked open the door and spun out, weapon first. Sandy followed, reflexive cover. The corridor was empty. Sandy shut the door behind, Vanessa locked it with an uplink signal, and they went up the stairs at speed. Flattened against the left wall at the top, before the glass wall and doors that led to the rooftop car park. Gusting wind blew the garden ferns sideways, light rain spattering against the glass. Beyond the heaving rooftop awning above the parked vehicles, a third storm front darkened the sky, and lightning blazed the surrounding towers in stark relief.
‘Where’s Ibrahim?’ Vanessa muttered, ducking and peering to see as much as she could from her vantage. ‘He should have called. If Dali’s had second thoughts about the way CSA investigations have been running, you’re the first person he’ll have taken into custody.’
‘Who’ll he get to do it?’ Sandy asked, thinking only practically as she eyed the open, space between the glass doors and the sheltering cars. Laser snipers had uninterrupted killing range of several kilometres, without regard for deflection shots. Including all surrounding towers, that meant hundreds of possible firing vantages. And who knew what orders had been given? Considering the predictable xenophobia against her within the various arms of Tanushan administration, and particularly in the present chaotic situation …
‘Dunno.’ Tight-lipped, eyes darting. ‘Could be cops, could be plain-clothes, could be SIBs … though that’s unlikely — they don’t like to get their hands dirty much … dammit, we’ve gotta run for it, I don’t give them credit for enough organisation to get a sniper in place in advance. No one plays the bureaucracy that fast in Tanusha, ‘specially not an outsider. If they’re sending someone it’s by air, which means we’re wasting time.’
‘I’ll go.’ Accessed the door through the local net and opened … it clicked and swung open, cold air and raindrops gusting in. Sandy tensed briefly, got a foot against the back wall and exploded forward, out into the cold, hurdled the gardens and then abruptly slid, feet first in under the first of the cars. Came out the other side and crouched between the two, scanning for any sign of hostile targeting. Nothing. Made a hand signal to Vanessa, braced for covering fire … Vanessa ran, somewhat less explosively but fast enough, and this time kept going straight for her vehicle, the door of which was already open, and Sandy could hear the pre-start whine above the wind gusting the overhead awning. Sandy glanced about, vision multi-shaded and tracking, hearing finely tuned, only too aware of how impossible it was, in these surroundings, to pinpoint a hostile target who did not want to be spotted. Beyond the rooftop and all around towers rose skyward, some near, most far. Clear lines of sight between millions of people. Not for the first time she realised just how useless many of her military skills actually were in this environment.
The engines reached an agreeable pitch and she turned and ran, crouched low, skirting around the front to the open passenger door which whined shut as soon as she hit the leather seat.
‘See anything?’ Vanessa asked, eyeing the generator displays as the greenlines reached red-critical.
‘Nothing. Anyone could have, though, if they’d known where to be.’ And still could, if willing to take out an aircar. But it was unnecessary to point out such obvious things to a SWAT lieutenant.
‘Wonders of obscurity,’ Vanessa replied, pulling back on the control grips as the indicators reached red and the go-lights showed green. A whine of field distortion, vibrating through the seats, and they rose fractionally above the tarmac … a warning light reprimanded their lack of seatbelts, quickly killed by Vanessa. ‘The only way to be really safe is to be hidden. Big FIA advantage over everyone else, that’s for sure.’
A com-light flashed as they glided forward, turning towards the open space beyond the rooftop pads … they both glanced at it. Vanessa recognised the incoming signature.
‘Oh great.’ Hit the receive button …
‘Hello Snowcat, this is S-15, repeat, S-15, please deactivate and stand by for further instructions, we are inbound on ETA of thirty seconds‘
‘Negative, S-15,’ Vanessa replied, easing control grips forward. ‘We are outbound, I am awaiting instructions from a direct superior, I am not at liberty to take instruction from any source outside the chain of command, out.’
Sandy did a fast air-grid search, locking onto the ID signature of that incoming message … found the incoming immediately, still a kilometre away, and patched that location into the cruiser’s own navcomp so Vanessa could see, it was blacked out on regular systems, invisible to everyone but Traffic Central itself.
‘Snowcat, chain of command has been restructured, SIB have been authorised by Callayan C&C to carry full authority over any unit within our jurisdiction. Please stand down.’
Vanessa shut them off.
‘Definitely SIB,’ she said, although the ID already said as much. ‘Only SIB could talk about an electronic coup like it was a temporary reshuffle.’ Pushing the controls fully forward, and the aircar accelerated out into open air, a sudden, unobstructed view of wet city suburbs. ‘Damn. That means the Senate’s involved. They’ve been after Neiland for years. I bet they’re ecstatic.’
SIBs … governed by political opposition within the Senate toward the Neiland government. Alarmed, perhaps, at the emergency legislation that had given the CSA such unprecedented power … which they’d used to override xenophobic caution and include a captured League GI in the investigations. The thought gave her a very, very bad feeling, remembering Hiraki’s assessment of Tanushan populist politics, and Ibrahim’s calm contempt … and the SIB had sent a cruiser straight for her within minutes of the takeover being implemented. The bad feeling got worse.
‘Vanessa, I’ve got to get out of here.’ As the cruiser accelerated toward an adjoining skylane, gathering speed and altitude. ‘I can’t stay with you. CSA and the administration have been protecting me this far … now it’s all come down, all the people who’re so scared of me are going to be after me.’ Past the combat reflex, she felt a rising, irrepressible dread. Given the opportunity, it could rise to panic. She determined not to give it the chance.
‘Out of here how?’ Vanessa asked, scanning her navcomp display, adjusting viewpoints for possible paths ahead as she steered one-handed. ‘If CSA Ops comes back on line we can get a phony ID, give these fools the slip. Then we’ll…’
‘I can’t stay with you, Vanessa.’ Tracking the trailing SIB cruiser on her uplinks to the traffic network. It was closer, but not much. Unless it broke lanes, it wasn’t going to catch up — all Tanushan airlanes were the same speed. ‘Even CSA’s not safe any more. Dali’s in command. Even Ibrahim can’t challenge that directly.’ Vanessa shot her a hard look.
‘Sandy, this isn’t the time to go off half-cocked …’
‘I’m not going to let them lock me up, Vanessa,’ Sandy said warningly, the fear surfacing with a sudden surge, her heart rate accelerating at the prospect. ‘Not again. Not ever.’
Vanessa blinked, stared back at the navcomp screen, then at the passing towers and surrounding air traffic, increasingly obscured as the slipstream streaked rain across the windshield with growing force. The mist was closing in and lightning flashed closer.
‘What then?’ she said finally. Voice hard and reluctant, conceding Sandy’s point. ‘I can’t lose the tail until Ops comes back online to give me some help.’
‘I’ll jump.’
Vanessa stared at her. ‘You’re kidding!’ Already Sandy was scanning ahead, searching the topographical displays for the landmark she required beneath the present flight route … found a likely site, locked it in, transferred it to the cruiser’s navcomp. It bleeped in reception, and Vanessa stared at it.
‘Nice little scenic lake, four metres deep — should be plenty.’
‘Sandy, for chrissakes, there’s not an airlane in Tanusha that goes under fifty metres. If you’re gonna hit water from that height you may as well just land on the road …’
‘I could,’ Sandy cut her off, ‘but it hurts.’ Vanessa stared. ‘And it’s too visible.’ Vanessa kept staring, then back out the windscreen, steering along the new course and muttering under her breath. The lights of a passing tower flashed dimly through the pounding rain. Sandy made certain of the safety and shoved the pistol back firmly into her harness. Zipped up her jacket as far as possible.
‘What are you going to do?’ Vanessa asked then. Her jaw was tight.
‘Keep looking,’ Sandy replied, securing the interface unit in one pocket and the spare magazines in the other. ‘I agreed to help Ibrahim catch the people involved in this. As soon as Neiland is reinstated all the old rules will be back again, and I still want my citizenship.’
‘Cassandra,’ Vanessa said firmly, demanding her attention. Sandy looked. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. I know you want to catch the bastards who hurt you. I also know that you want to find whoever it was who sent you that message. Don’t let it affect your judgment.’
Sandy’s gaze was fixed and unblinking.
‘I’ve led more combat missions than I can remember, Vanessa,’ she said. ‘I’m not prone to letting my emotions get away from me.’
‘Bullshit,’ Vanessa said warningly, half watching her, and half watching the course-display on the windscreen. ‘You’re not the same person any more, girl, you said it yourself. You’re angry as hell, you’re only marginally legal, and you’re dangerous enough to pretty much kill whoever you like, if you choose to. You just be damn careful what you decide to do, and think about the consequences. You can come out of this fine if that’s how you decide to play it. Or you could end up a fugitive again, and hunted by everyone. Or dead. You just think about what you’re really after.’
Sandy stared at her. It was, she realised, well worth her consideration. The cruiser banked again, slowly descending.
‘I’m not that angry,’ she said. Even as she said it, she wasn’t certain if it was true.
‘Sure,’ Vanessa said sarcastically. ‘Sure you’re not. You’re so used to attacking everything from logical angles that you don’t even realise when you’re furious. If it were me, I’d want to rip their guts out. And unlike me, you can actually do that with your bare hands. Sounds pretty romantic sometimes, having that kind of power … but girl, you can keep it. I don’t want that responsibility. You just be damn careful what you do with it.’
It occurred to Sandy, as she stared at Vanessa, that she should have had this conversation with her before now. But this was leaving things far too late. And the lake in question was barely ninety seconds away. There was nothing she could say to Vanessa’s assertions that would have made any difference — they sounded dangerously like truth. And Sandy had always greatly valued truth.
‘Vanessa …’ and she paused, suddenly, unaccountably nervous. Glanced downward briefly. Vanessa was looking to her then back to the nav display, frowning.
‘What?’ she asked. Sandy looked up reluctantly.
‘Are you my friend?’ Vanessa looked perplexed. ‘I haven’t had many civilian friends. None that meant life or death, anyway. It’d just be nice to know.’
‘Why would you think I wouldn’t be?’ Vanessa replied, still puzzled.
Sandy shrugged, still reluctant. Then, ‘I thought maybe you were too scared of me. Everyone else seems to be.’ Vanessa shrugged offhandedly.
‘I’d be lying if I said I was never nervous. That’s human reflex — you can’t blame people for that. But when my intellect has complete control of my reflexes, which sometimes happens, then no, I’m not the least bit scared of you. I have a very naïve faith in human decency, Sandy. I’m not frightened of people who possess it, and it’s very obvious that you do.’ And she smiled.
‘And yes,’ she added, ‘I am your friend.’
‘Good,’ said Sandy. And managed a slight, wry smile past the deadening calm of combat reflexes. Vanessa showed controlled tension, telltale heat smears and indistinct posture shifts. ‘I’m glad.’
‘Tough to smile when your guard’s up, is it?’ Vanessa asked.
‘You noticed.’
‘What are you even seeing right now? Your eyes are too wide.’
‘Ricey,’ Sandy sighed, ‘we really should have talked more when we had the chance. I’ve got to go.’
‘Find another lake,’ Vanessa suggested.
‘Can’t. The tail will get suspicious if we fly around in circles.’ Hooked into the navcomp and timing the course. Thirty seconds. Disconnected the seatbelt. Checked the safety on the snub-rifle and placed it on Vanessa’s lap. ‘Better keep this. I can’t carry it about town and you won’t want to explain why it’s missing.’
‘You need an override for the door?’
‘No, I’ve got it.’ Accessed the circuits, silencing the alarm as the central lock went dead. Vanessa looked impressed. ‘Not bad for a glorified pocket calculator, huh?’ Vanessa smiled. And extended a hand.
‘Good luck. I’ll be hearing from you.’ Sandy grasped her hand firmly. For a brief, intense moment, their eyes met.
‘No question. Do a good cover story, huh?’ Vanessa’s eyes widened.
‘Oh shit, I hadn’t thought of that!’
‘Start,’ Sandy told her. Mentally keyed into the door function, and with a sudden deafening howl of slipstream the cold, rain-laden wind invaded the comfortable interior, and the cruiser rocked as Vanessa’s hands adjusted the control grips. Sandy’s linkup counted down, a brief recalculation of falling trajectories at present velocity, adjusted for wind readings … and jumped.
Lost the link with the cruiser several seconds later, but by then it had ceased to matter. Wind howled and everything seemed to float. A regular human might have found it exciting. Or frightening. Sandy felt little beyond the immediate necessity, and focused on nothing more than keeping herself upright. Vision shift found the lake through the blinding rain, and the surrounding park and the local geography in general, all coming at her very fast. But not too fast. She scanned calmly as she fell and time moved at a crawl.
It was a chain of lakes. Pleasure boats were all under cover. Three forested islands. Landscaped grass and gardens. Some water birds gave heat readings. Nothing human sized.
She allowed herself to spin backward, and spread-eagled herself as steadily as she could, facing the invisible sky. Worst thing a human could do, but best for a GI. And hit with a vicious impact, and lost all sense of everything for a moment.
Came back to her senses, half surfaced, waves frothing from her doubtless enormous entry splash. Took a deep breath, starting to tread water, testing her ribcage. Back muscles, shoulders, buttocks, hamstrings and calves were harder than steel, a powerful, rippling feeling. The back of her skull was stinging numbly where it had whacked the water at several hundred kilometres an hour. Her neck was stiff. She tried to flex as she stayed afloat. Gradually, the hardness dissolved, bit by bit. Melting away, back to regular consistency.
It was probable, she knew, that even spread-eagled she’d hit the lake bottom. She had no way of remembering, but it didn’t matter. Her duties had once demanded that she jump from the third-from-top floor of a seventy-storey tower — the only option when the entire floor had been rigged to blow. Her injuries had been minimal then. The car she’d landed on was a write-off.
She could have done it face down too, she mused as she overarmed her way toward the nearby forested island through the hammering rain, but she didn’t want to risk her face. Especially her nose. And half-smiled at the vanity.
The water suddenly shallowed and she climbed quickly ashore, moving fast into the cover of trees. Suitably hidden, she scanned the surrounding park. Her entry must have made a huge noise, clearly audible above rain, wind and thunder. Thankfully the park was both large and deserted. It was hardly weather for ducks, let alone people.
Once convinced that she had not been heard, and that her interface, pistol and magazines had survived the impact undamaged, she eased herself into the water on the island’s far side and swam for a bit. Then heaved her sodden self over the rocky wall of the lake rim and started walking casually across the grass as yet more thunder rolled and boomed nearby, echoes bouncing off near and distant towers. Water poured from her jacket sleeves and the legs of her jeans. Her shoes squelched on the sodden grass. A pair of ducks eyed her warily from under sheltering wings.
Or she thought they were ducks. Was a Callayan water bird a duck or not? And shook her head impatiently at the irrelevant line of thought. She felt little excitement when the action was happening, but afterwards … in all truth, she was little more than an adrenalin junkie. Her thoughts danced and flowed pleasantly and her limbs felt loose and comfortable as she walked. She ought to jump out of moving aircars more often. Nothing like it. She brushed wet hair back from her face, and let the falling rain pound it into place as she walked, face tilted toward the darkened sky.
