Archon's Queen (20 page)

Anna did not realize she had closed the bathroom door until Spawny barged in. She had never thought twice about leaving it open before, but that morning she wanted privacy with her shower. Sleep had been a fitful companion, sending her to spend the night on the couch to spare Faye the endless tossing.

A brilliant blue spark leapt from the metal console in front of her chest, licking at her breasts without harm as she absorbed power from the tube. She sensed it preparing to leap to Spawny and forced it down the drain. The autoshower went dark.

“Crimey, what the hell!” He jumped away.

“Spawny,” said Anna in a demure tone, turning her back. “Please let me have some privacy. I’m not in the mood for your antics today.”

The weight of his stare lingered on her back for a moment. “Well, all right then. F’ya need anyfing, I’ll be ‘cross the hall.” Light shifted on the wall as he filled the doorway. “You okay, Pix?”

“Just tickety-boo,” she muttered.

Seconds later, the shower tube came back online; the wash cycle restarted in time with the reboot.

“Twee?” she yelled, her voice echoed in the confines of the tube.

“Oi?” The girl stepped into view.

“Be a dear and close the door please?”

She reached for it. “Why’s ‘e just walk in on ya like that?”

Anna pressed her forehead into the wall. “Just the way he is. Thinks it’s funny.”

Faye shook her head and closed the door. “Perv. ‘E does that ta me I’ll hoof him right in the plums.”

When Anna left the bathroom, dressed, the girl was seated in the kitchenette, munching on some of the cereal Anna brought home the night before. She poured herself a bowl and sat next to her. They chewed in silence for a while.

“Nice trousers,” said Faye.

Anna pushed the spoon through her bowl “Got tired of givin’ everyone a show whenever I moved.”

“They have these things called panties…” Faye grinned.

“Haven’t had the readies to waste on them.”

“So nick a pack.”

Anna swatted at her. “Not the way to think.”

Spawny yelled from across the hall. “What for, you’re starkers more than dressed anyway.”

The lights flickered. Faye stared up.

“Oh, hell, it’s only been two weeks!” shouted Spawny. “Bastards are getting quick.”

Faye stirred her cereal. “You don’t look so good.”

Anna shrank into her seat. “I’m on the rattles.”

“They had this cheesy presentation at school about drugs. Bunch of fat wankers in suits think they know what’s good for us.”

“Twee…” Anna reached over the table to hold her hand.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not five.”

“Sorry. When I first started taking it, I thought I could control it. I couldn’t. It got me. I used to live with Pen in a nice place in town, had a car even. Money, all the clothes I could want.”

“You sound just like those fat bastards.”

“I’m serious, Faye. Look at me. I’m a bloody mess. Two years ago, I was practically wealthy, now I have to show my tits to eat.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “And you don’t want me ending up like you.”

“Dammit, Faye.” Anna’s shout startled her. “You don’t belong here. I’ve already thrown my life away and I don’t want to watch you do the same thing.”

“Why’d you get started then if it’s such a bad thing?”

“Work.” Anna’s mind raced for a plausible lie. “I had to sneak inta some place posing as a zoom-head. Wound up getting the fake patch mixed with a live one. Once was all it took and I was trapped.”

Faye looked at the half-eaten cereal. “I can’t face them. They think I’m a liar.”

“I could talk―”

“No!” Faye covered her reddening face. “I hate them.”

“I understand…”
Telepaths cheat.
“Right when you needed them most, they weren’t there for you.”

Redness swept over the girl’s face.

Anna drew a breath to speak, but hesitated when Spawny traipsed in, Penny in tow.

“Cripes, Anna,” said Penny. “What the devil.”

“She’s on the rattles,” muttered Faye.

“No shit.” Spawny looked her over. “Fink ya lost more weight too.”

“Really?” Penny grinned. “You’re trying to quit?”

“Yeah,” moaned Anna, running a hand over her face into her hair. “It’s gonna suck.”

“Zoomers go nuts after about three days. Guess we’ll have to tie you to your bed for a while.” Spawny winked. “Clothing optional.”

Faye glared at him.

The lights faltered again.

He looked at the ceiling. “Tap must be loose.”

“No, I just don’t really want to be helpless around you.” Anna winked.

“What, I’m not enough for ya?” Penny smacked him with her purse.

“Just teasin’.” He cringed, in playful defense. “Hey, Pix, we’re goin skimmin’, wana come with?”

Anna thought about it. She did not want to get caught up in that, but it would be easier to get through the checkpoint in a group, and it might keep her mind off zoom.

“Faye you gonna be okay for a bit?”

She scoffed. “I’m thirteen, not three.”

The maglev orbital circled London proper, crossing the Thames twice on its route. Anna sat at the rearmost part of the rearmost car, jostling about with the motion of the tram. Despite the lack of contact with the rail, a scintillating charge swept down her body each time the car slipped over a seam in the track; the spaces between magnetic fields slid through her stomach. The conversations flooding the confined space drilled into her head: a rotten boss, a lousy breakfast, some Frictionless fans upset at a referee. A pair of nineteen-year-olds four rows ahead tried to give each other hand jobs without anyone noticing. He kept a straight face, but the girl couldn’t help squeaking.

Sweat tickled its way down Anna’s chest in threads as a woman’s distant laugh pummeled her skull like a hyperactive woodpecker. Anyone looking at her would think she had a fever: bleary unfocused eyes, red face, sweating, delirious. With nothing to do, she did not waste the energy trying to keep up outward appearances.

Kicking zoom was a rotten idea.

Spawny draped himself over the bench between her and Penny, tinkering with a little electronic device in the pocket of his imitation denim coat. He held the fabric to conceal it from view and fiddled with knobs on the side to adjust its transmitter range and sensitivity. Penny had one as well, but she was less fickle about the tuning. He babbled under his breath as he worked, mangling some old nursery rhyme with a forced Cockney accent that made it incomprehensible, even to people used to it.

Heavy as stone, Anna’s eyelids drooped. The thing in the back of her mind spun like a tiny cartoon Tasmanian devil, whirling about in search of anything it could use to get out. Her momentary calm trapped it for the moment. Great amounts of power in the car below unfurled into her view as shimmering amber pipes lit by brighter pulses. The ephemeral light crept along the presence of electrical wirepaths in the sidewalls; lines traced themselves out as smears of yellow-orange, holograms in the brain. Her mind played with it, an old atrophied muscle flexing and releasing. Redirecting existing power was less tiring, and far more deadly than pulling it out of thin air. She pressed her back to the wall wearing an expression most would mistake for an orgasm. For a brief moment, the power brought a sense of confidence and safety she had not known in years.

Her head sagged to the left, staring into Spawny’s pocket at the handful of light flakes dancing in his hand. Energy inside his machine glowed intense around the power source: a two by one inch rectangle known as an e-mag. That moniker rolled off the tongue easier than Meissner Cell, though some old-schoolers still called them that. Developed initially by the military for use in energy-based weapons, the ubiquitous super-batteries had infiltrated many aspects of civilian life as well. No reputable company produced skimmers―these were Spawny specials. Bare wires soldered to the contacts of the e-mag sparked and seethed.

Anna stared at it, her memory flashing back to a dark hallway and a man in a dark coat. She’d jammed an e-mag into his throat, and she forced it to discharge all of its power at once. The man’s head had vaporized.

“You all right?”

Glimmering amber threads faded at the sound of Penny’s voice and the hand shaking her listless arm.

Anna squinted. The window-light framing Penny’s face burned her eyes. “Yeah, fine. Just a… bad memory. I need a feckin’ zoomie.”

Penny reached over Spawny and grabbed her by the lapels, shaking her. “Look at me, Anna. You do
not
need a zoomer. I’m here for you.”

“We’re boaf ‘ere for ya, luv.” Spawny ruffled her hair as though she were his kid sister.

“Thanks. Kinnel, this sucks.” Anna doubled over, arms through her gut. “I shouldn’t have eaten.”

“Bollocks, girl. You’re a twig.”

“We’re gonna take a stroll. Yell if you need us,” said Spawny.

“You sure that’s wise?”

“She’ll be fine, Pen. We’re just goin’ up and back.”

Anna’s arms fell slack on the seat as her friends got up and walked into the crowd. Gentle rocking of the tram taking a curve caused her to slip back into her semi-awake daze. Her eyes jumped between small diaphanous blobs of power manifesting from people they passed, flying into Spawny’s pocket or Penny’s purse.

That’s twisted. I’ve never seen EM before.

They were skimming.

Sometimes, the glop of energy leapt out of the back of a hand where an ImDent chip lurked.

The skimmers simulated merchant readers, siphoning off credits in small amounts from every device they got in range of. The amount randomized from one ping to the next, the software would not tap the same source twice in less than a month. Most people didn’t notice. Even if they looked at a statement, the odds were good they would overlook it since the transactions stayed small and appeared to be something common like coffee, a snack, or a surcharge.

Her friends reached the end of the car, the tiny acknowledgement chirps of NetMini’s lost amid the din of the cabin and layers of clothing. A cyan retaining field at the end of the cabin dissipated, popping like a film of soapy water as Penny hit the button. They advanced to the next car.

Anna lay like a corpse for a few minutes until the feeling of being alone and vulnerable in a box full of men gave her the wherewithal to stand up. No one had made a move, much to her surprise; perhaps the pants worked.

She lurched in pursuit of Penny and Spawny, falling into the standee posts in series to forestall an intimate meeting with the floor. A few people asked her if she was all right, another new feeling. Anna offered pleasant smiles and claimed a bit of fever, which made them lean away and nod. Their affect was absent the usual derision; most seemed fearful of becoming sick.

At the end of the car, she smacked the wall a few times in a disorganized attempt to find the button to sap the field. A nearby businessman watched her fumble for several minutes until he seemed more uncomfortable by her proximity than bothering himself with another’s problem. He reached forward. She tensed, expecting his hand to go for her ass, but he pressed the button for her. After a thankful nod, which almost sent her spilling into his lap, she wobbled through the opening. Her friends worked three cars down. Anna searched through the aches and pains for the ability to move faster.

There would have to be something done about that before tonight. Her arms moved with the hesitance of a rubber figurine with stiff wires for bones. The job required more flexibility than a piece of jerked beef for her to be of any use to the client or keep herself alive. Anna grunted from the impact with a metal pole she failed to see. Her hands clasped it out of reflex; she clung to gather her balance as well as her thoughts. The maglev went into a gentle rightward turn that spun her around the standee post. If not for the number of people packed in there, the motion would have flung her to the floor.

More zoom would make her feel better without delay, but it would dull her abilities and set her back. Then again, that had been the whole point of starting it. It was rather effective at keeping her electrokinesis from running away with her emotion, but it also made it a chore to call on when she wanted to. To do what Mr. Carroll was willing to pay her to do, she would need to be able to find the little monster in her head. If she were to return to his employ as a matter of routine, she would need to make friends with it―and that meant staying clean.

No… Zoom’s right out. Maybe I’ll take up yoga or tai chi.

Pulling herself to her feet, she thought about visiting a clinic and buying a pacifier. Those autoinjectors could ease the withdrawal, but they ran about a thousand credits. Little more than weakened narcotics, they dulled reaction time almost as bad as the zoom itself. The only differences were the lack of hallucinations and a shorter high. The pacifier was supposed to be non-addictive, but that was a lorry full of codswallop. Anna stopped, staring through the window at the passing grey city, wondering why the illegal drug was a hundred credits but the path to freedom cost a thousand. She lost track of how often Old Bill had let her skate with the supposed contraband.

Bloody government’s in on it.