Chapter Twenty Two
All around the monorail station, the crowd went about their business—there was a group of private school kids on a field trip to one of the soup kitchens in the outskirts to make an early showcase of the ways in which philanthropy kept the unwashed masses pacified, a woman carrying a delivery of designer cupcakes to a birthday party, and a couple of factory workers heading to lunch. Malory moved through it without a word. She was exhausted, but the anxiety provided by the turncoat deal was masked by the drinks she’d ordered before leaving Purgatory. The ghost’s words had affected her more than she let on, and she was worried that trying to use a corporation to get justice was tainting her ideals. But she also knew she’d be a fool not to use whatever she could. She wasn’t signing onto corporate payroll to be an enforcer, anyway, and she was smart enough to know that New Detroit corrupted even the most well-intentioned. She swallowed the disgusting taste in her mouth and decided she’d do her best not to be ensnared by an ideology she despised. To tear down the whole rotten system meant it would try to ruin her in return. She brushed the mess of thoughts away and headed off to do the job.
There was an old virtual reality cafe that had been famous once for their full-dive pods where people were able to experience all their desires in exacting detail, but it had fallen out of fashion when memory chips became commonplace. It was strange to learn that such a place had given ZenTech so much trouble—enough that they were willing to let her take care of it in exchange for amnesty, and her doubts were only reinforced by the state of the place. Most of the windows had been boarded up with planks of synth-wood, and the ones that hadn’t were cracked and broken. Malory cased the outside before moving in and took note of any visible defenses, the exits, and whether or not customers came or went. The place seemed quiet in a way nothing in the city ever was, but in the details ZenTech had provided, they listed an estimation of over thirty potential hostiles. Something was off. There was no way the Black Hands invested so much personnel in a place that wasn’t a front for their seedy interests. Malory headed for the door. No one was keeping guard, and it wasn’t locked. She was given a directive to take the place for ZenTech; there was no mention of killing anywhere, so if it was a possibility, she wanted to avoid it. The bell above the door rang as she pushed her way inside.
“We’re closed!” a high-pitched voice yelled from behind the counter. The lobby was lined with automated turrets set into a heavy base every few feet, and they were all trained on the door. “Kindly fuck off if you don’t want to be paste on the floor.”
“The door was open,” Mal asked. She continued forward, unphased by the voice’s attempt at intimidation, and felt the turrets track her movement. She leaned on the counter and looked at the small girl cowering behind it. “I’m just here to talk.”
“Do you have a fucking death wish?” the girl asked. Her eyes were wide with terror, and the turrets revved up to deliver their payloads. She was at the end of her rope, and she wasn’t bluffing.
“The people that care about me sure seem to think so,” Mal said. She looked at the impressive weaponry and burrowed into their systems with her hack. As the code brute-forced its way in to take control, she held up her hands to show she didn’t mean harm. “I’m just here with an offer. Call in the others so they can hear what I have to say.”
“I’m the only one left,” the girl mumbled, but her voice caught in her throat, and it didn’t come out loud enough for Mal to hear. There were tears forming in her eyes.
“What did you say?” Mal asked. The God’s eye flashed a notification that she’d seized control of the defenses, and a small smile made its way to her face. She didn’t want to kill anyone for the suits, especially a child, but fear could make people do stupid things. Having the turrets out of play made things much easier.
“The others died in the first attack. I’m the only one left!” the girl screamed. Speaking the fact aloud for someone else to hear had made it real, and that’s what finally broke her. She lost all composure, started crying in big heaving sobs, and fell back on her ass. She didn’t even notice the turrets weren’t under her control anymore.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Then how did you hold off the corpo squads for so long?” Mal asked. A single small girl had rebuffed the largest faction in the city. It was absurd. “How is that even possible?”
“My mom,” the girl said. She tried to sit back up, but her body didn’t listen. “She gave me control of the holograms when she died. They look like they’re people, but they aren’t. They weren’t smart enough to know the difference, I guess.”
“That’s incredible,” Mal said. She had control over the defenses, and the girl was willing to talk, so she abandoned all pretense and vaulted over the counter. She offered her metal hand to lift the girl back to her feet. “Everything’s going to be alright. You did a good job here, and your mom would be proud.”
“You’re here to help?” the girl asked. There was a large snot bubble forming from her nose, and she hesitated before taking the hand. “I miss her, but she’s gone now.”
“I can’t do anything about that, but I can take you somewhere safe if you trust me,” Mal said. She waited a moment, and when the girl nodded, Mal lifted her from the ground and carried her. When she felt the tiny arms wrap around her neck, she felt rage well up, an indignation that someone else had to suffer through watching their mother die the way she had. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Is it safe?” the girl asked. She wiped her nose on Malory’s jacket. “I don’t want to play this game anymore, but they never stopped coming.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll keep you safe,” Mal promised. She started moving through the place toward the back door, and had to step over a dozen bodies. She held her hand over the girl’s eyes so she wouldn’t see. “I know a place where you can go back to being a kid again. It’s not the best, but it’s a chance. I know it won’t be easy to handle what happened here, and this place will haunt your dreams. Trust me, I know. But if you wield it as strength instead, you can grow up big and strong and make sure no one will ever hurt you again.”
“Okay,” the girl said. There was a hint of resignation in her voice, and she stopped crying as she steeled herself for what was to come. She pushed Malory’s hand away; she wanted to witness everything so she’d never forget.
Blood congealed in rivulets along the floorboards, on the dusty surfaces of the VR pods, and the faded wallpaper. Hundreds of holes were punched straight through the drywall, and it all spoke of violence. Large shell casings peppered the ground, and they let out a metallic crunch as Malory made her way through with the girl. Most of the bodies there belonged to ZenTech goons, but there were Black Hands defenders as well. In the back, just outside the server room, Mal noticed a couple that died while holding hands. The little girl moved around as she forced herself not to cry, and Mal lingered a moment to give her a chance to say goodbye. When she was ready, they continued on. New Detroit took without remorse, and it never gave back. When they made it to the exit, Malory triggered the turrets to fire, and the noise reverberated around the empty place—she wanted to sell a fight in case anyone was keeping watch. She pulled out the Lantern, fired a half dozen shots into some of the bodies nearby, and then holstered it again. It’d have to be good enough. Mal pushed the door open and stepped out into the alleyway. The light hit their faces and made them both squint, but it illuminated a resigned determination as they headed into the city.
The journey was smooth, and no one tried to stop them. Malory carried the girl through the streets, the bustling crowds, and into a very familiar part of the outskirts near the wall. She’d grown up there, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. She wasn’t like Oscar had been, always trying to look after the younger orphans—she didn’t think she made for a good role model, and feared any involvement would only make their lives worse, but she’d decided saving the girl was worth a few uncomfortable emotions. When they reached the orphanage, there was a group of kids out front playing hopscotch the same way her cohort had, but she didn’t stop to reminisce. The eyes of each of them followed their approach until Mal passed through the front door, and then they exploded into furious conversations. A few of them recognized Malory, and they bragged to the others. According to the rule of cool, they were the winners that day. Inside, the foyer was still overhauled from the adoption of her sister, but it hadn’t been cared for since, and was beginning to deteriorate again. Echoes of its previous state showed through. Mal took in the sight and then headed straight for the director’s office. The door was opened just a crack, and she kicked it in with as much force as she could muster.
