Division Zero: Thrall (27 page)

“I’d rather know who wants to kill you,” said Dorian.

Kirsten gazed into space. “I’m sure they’ll try again.”

irsten held Nicole’s hand in the quiet dimness of the cyberspace rogue’s lair. The redhead trembled, wearing a face of abject disgust. She tried to move as little as possible, standing in a posture reminiscent of a toddler with a burdened diaper. The hacker remained unconscious, lying on his side and secured in binders. Nicole’s grimace deepened onto a scowl.

“What?”

“I’m pissed this idiot gets off the hook after he tried to kill you.”

Kirsten squeezed Nicole’s hand. “He didn’t try to kill me, the entity inside him did. Either way, he’s probably got a pile of illegal stuff in here. I’ll let Div One sort him out.”

“Fuck this; I can feel slime creeping down my legs.” Nicole let go and waddled across the room to a curtained-off area, opening her armor as she went.

“You’re not seriously going to…” Kirsten followed. “He doesn’t even have a tube, that’s an old-world bathtub. I doubt the water’s even hot.”

“I don’t care.” Plastic clatters rang out as armor hit the ground.

Nicole disregarded modesty. Kirsten cringed as each piece peeled away from her with an audible slurping noise. Her panties hit the wall and stuck, a soot-colored mass of ooze. Nicole froze in a posture as though cold water went down her back.

“It’s still coming out. Is that… normal?” Nicole gagged, spitting up another glop. “It tastes like bad eggs smell.”

Kirsten shrugged, waving a hand around. “Sure. As normal as getting possessed by a creature from the abyss and forced to attack your best friend. I have no idea. I’ve never seen it before. Uhh, it feels tainted. You probably wanna get it out of you as fast as you can.”

Nicole stepped into the tub, hiding behind a hanging plastic sheet. Kirsten cringed away from the sight of dark syrup gliding down pale legs. The same substance continued to seep from her nose. A screech of metal preceded a squeal of shock.

“Told you the water would be cold.”

“I d-d-don’t c-c-care,” Nicole said through chattering teeth.

“I’ll order you some new undies.” Kirsten fiddled with her NetMini.

Soon, the sound of tromping boots flooded the only passageway in. Kirsten felt embarrassed for Nicole as a Division 6 assault unit in green-camouflage armor stormed in. A gold-visored suit approached and peered down at Kirsten. She tilted her head, amused by the distorted reflection of her face on his helmet.

“Agent Wren? I’m Sergeant Hunt. We’re here to secure the area while the rat squad runs around lookin’ for cheese.” The visor snapped open, revealing a face the color of chocolate; shaved bald. “Sorry we’re late; the front room had a bunch of toy soldiers.”

“Wow.” Kirsten raised both eyebrows. “Div Two is actually coming out here to a grey zone?”

Sgt. Hunt laughed. “Yeah. Is that the guy who tried to kill you?” He kicked the unconscious man.

Other men in the same assault armor cleared the sides of the room, sweeping for listening devices as well as trip mines. Not one of them paid any undue notice to a naked Nicole sloshing around, waist deep in cold, grey water. One did take a protective position near her, with his back turned.

“What happened?” Sgt. Hunt motioned at the abandoned armor and the bathing redhead.

Kirsten pointed at the black stuff. “Spirit possessed her. I destroyed it, but it uhh, started leaking out of uhh, everywhere.”

Most of the advance team shivered.

Wow, they almost look like they believe me. Where’s the fearful look? Oh, right. Div Six rotate out of the Marines. These guys aren’t afraid of shit.

Kirsten’s NetMini beeped. The delivery bot was at the entrance, refusing to enter this structure. She met it outside near two large A3Vs. Each of their six giant wheels was as tall as she was. The lead vehicle, camo green with a manned 30mm turret, had Division 6 markings. The other, slate blue, had no weapons and disgorged a Division 2 investigation team. Two women and two men jumped out before she recognized the fifth person―Sam Chang.

“Hey…” she said, as she reached up to take a small box from the bot. “What are you doing out here?”

Sam slung a metal case over his shoulder on a white nylon strap and picked up two larger ones. “They were looking for volunteers to come check out a hacker pad. I heard you were working on the case and couldn’t resist.”

Kirsten glanced off to the side, a touch of blush in her cheeks. The man radiated schoolboy crush. Almost as soon as she thought it, she felt guilty.
I’m Konstantin’s girl. I shouldn’t be looking at other men.
Her hand pressed into her stomach to forestall a mild onrush of nausea.

“You feeling okay, Agent?” Sam put one case down to offer a hand. “You look pale. Is it my cologne? You seem to become ill whenever I see you.”

She smiled through the pang of discomfort in her gut. “I’m always pale.” After a deep breath, she tucked the box under her arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you in.”

Tech Chang followed her through the building as she passed on the details of what happened.

“… and Dorian drained all the power out of it. That thing could still be dangerous if it’s got a backup battery or something.”

He nodded. “I’ll disable it before I check his network.”

Once inside the lair, Kirsten tossed Nicole the box. The Division 6 troops had little reaction to her unwrapping a brand-new towel and drying off, though the tech crew had not gone through co-ed military training (or active duty) and either stared dumbstruck or blushed. Sam, however, focused on the inert walker bot more than Nicole and her purple towel.

And this is why I wore my uniform blacks under the armor.

Nicole gathered the towel about herself, shivering and pouting at her.
Thanks for the towel and undies. The uniform would have been soaked and slimy too, right? I’d have peeled that shit right off.

Kirsten laughed, startling Sam by the apparent spontaneity of it.
Good point. You sure you’re okay? Not feeling any strange emotions at all?

Nope, I’m good. My nips could cut glass right now, but I’m good.
Nicole took one of the hacker’s shirts and swabbed out the interior of the armor before putting it back on.

While Nicole dressed, Sam waved Kirsten over. “I got nothing here that really jumps out at me. Nothing from Intera”―he winked― “and nothing that appears connected to anything you’re working on. Heh, apparently your hacker found Jesus.”

“Dammit. This can’t be random.” Kirsten’s scowl turned into an eye roll at the mention of Jesus. “What does that mean?”

“Looks like he did a job for a preacher a few days ago. A Reverend Wallis sent him ten thousand credits.” Sam shook his head. “Must not have been a very dangerous job.”

“Wallis?” Kirsten stomped over. “Hold on a second, you’re telling me this scumbag was working for Wallis?”

“Wait, you know the name?” Sam leaned away from the fury in her sapphire eyes. “Uhh, yeah. Hold on, I’m going to try and find a citycam feed of their meeting.”

Kirsten fumed, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to navigate a series of menus. He reached up and pulled one holographic panel forward, stretching it out to a forty-inch screen before he poked it in the middle. Video showed the interior of a dimly lit restaurant. From the décor, it appeared to be a run-of-the-mill chain place frequented by working-class people.

Glare from the late-afternoon sun reflecting on the faux-wood Epoxil table blurred the image for a second until the recorder compensated. Sam zoomed in, filling the screen with the image of two men. Kirsten scowled at the smug grin on the face of Reverend B. G. Wallis as he spoke over a cup of coffee. A Class 2 doll waitress―human in appearance with faint lines at the joints and mouth―dropped off a large plate of chicken wings coated in bright orange sauce.

“Can you get sound?” Kirsten leaned closer.

“No, this is a citycam recording from several days ago. If it were happening real time, I could try the directional mic. With a place like this, there’s so much ambient noise resonating in the glass, it would take me an hour or two to filter out the voices you want.”

The deck jockey, who had since been removed from the area by Division 6, reclined in the seat with a face as though he owned the restaurant and everyone in it. The arm he did not drape over the back of his seat waved about. He appeared to be entertaining an offer that just barely approached high enough to consider.

“I think your boy’s name is Julio Ramirez,” said Sam.

“You reading lips?” asked Kirsten.

“No, it’s in the banking records.”

Reverend Wallis produced a small, flat box, which he slid across the table and patted. A quick twist of his fingers spun it so a latch faced the man. Julio pondered it with an appraising frown before swinging his arm over the bench seat in a reluctant gesture of interest. He lifted the lid, disturbing a small sheet of paper inside. At that point, threads of static appeared in the citycam feed while the restaurant’s interior lights faltered. The doll waitress fell over, face first into a coffee pot.

Julio Ramirez stared agape at the box, at what appeared to be a plain sheet of white paper, four by six inches, with a faint curl at the ends. His expression would have fit being told his entire family had been murdered. The doll got back up, whirled about with a look of confusion, and resumed its duties. Two seconds later, Julio sat up straight. Gone was the slacker-slouch and fringer arrogance. The man nodded once at the Reverend and got up to leave.

B. G. Wallis pulled the entire plate of wings closer, having it all to himself.

“Back it up four and a half seconds.”

Sam nodded and did so.

“There, look.” She pointed at the paper in the shadow of the half-open lid. “It’s got writing on it. Play forward, one fifth speed.”

The image crept forward as Julio’s hand moved the lid upward. As if shying away from the light, the crimson writing evaporated from bottom to top. Julio’s eyes fluttered and his expression changed, giving the impression he inhaled something unpleasant.

“What the hell is that?”

Kirsten nibbled on her thumbnail. “I’m willing to bet something happened there the camera didn’t pick up. If I had to guess, I think the Reverend Wallis knows quite a bit more about these abyssals running around than he’s admitted. Sam, please send me this video. I’m gonna need it for my report.”