Psion Delta (26 page)

“She
says you hit her last night.”

“I
didn’t hit her! We both said some mean things and—”

“She
was scared, Jeffie. That’s what she told me.”

“I
didn’t hit your sister,” Jeffie said very slowly and pointedly. “I appreciate
you standing up for her, but it’s between us.”

“When
you resort to violence, it’s not between—”

Jeffie
stood up and put her finger on Brickert’s chest. “You punched and attacked my
boyfriend, bucko, so stop right there. I didn’t lay a finger on Berry. She took
a cheap shot at me while my back was turned. Are all the Placks known for
fighting dirty where you come from?”

Brickert’s
cheeks flashed red shades. “You threw something at her.”

“A
piece of paper! What? Did she get a paper cut? I’m lucky I didn’t get a
concussion after she blasted me into a wall.”

“Jeffie—”

“No!
She told me that you and the others think I’m screwed up, so the way I see it,
you should be grateful I’m talking to you at all.”

She
waited for the spots to reappear on his cheeks, but they never came.

“I
never said that about you. We’re friends.”

“Then
why would Berry say that?”

Brickert’s
eyes told Jeffie he was mulling something over. “Kawai said it yesterday during
lunch. Natalia and I were eating with her. Strawberry was there, too.”

Jeffie
felt like she’d been blasted in the gut. She hadn’t really believed one of her
friends would say that. Especially Kawai.

“Kawai
was blowing off steam. She didn’t mean it.”

“Why
would her blowing off steam include me?”

Brickert
shook his head. “I’d better not—”

He
stood to leave, but Jeffie held out her hand, palm ready. Brickert knew what
she meant by it.

“Why,
Brickert?”

He
took a step forward, but Jeffie blasted him back. She was careful not to use
too much force, but it shocked Brickert.

“Don’t
do that!”

“Then
tell me why!”

They
faced each other, standing only a half meter apart. The competitive side of
Jeffie told her that she could beat Brickert in a fight, but her rational side
reminded her that his achievements in the sims mirrored hers almost perfectly.

I’m
older, stronger, quicker.

Fortunately,
it didn’t matter. Brickert’s shoulders sagged as he sat back onto the bench. “I
don’t want to fight you,” he muttered. “Kawai likes Sammy, and when they had
lunch on Wednesday, she told him. She said they had a moment where they really
connected, but he wouldn’t—whatever—because of you. It was—”

Jeffie
leaned forward and pulled her friend into a tight hug. Brickert was hesitant to
return the gesture, but finally did. It bewildered Jeffie to think that she’d
already been in a fight with Strawberry, and now had nearly picked one with
Brickert.

“I
love you, Brickert,” she breathed to him.

“Uh.
. . . ”

“Not
like that, you idiot.
I’m sorry.” She breathed in deeply and let the
air out of her lungs shakily. “I am screwed up.”

Brickert
pulled away. “We’re all screwed up, I’ll tell you. Look around. How can we not
be?”

Jeffie
nodded, ashamed of her actions.

Brickert
tugged at her hand. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

For
the remainder of the day, Jeffie kept a low profile. Strawberry didn’t come to
their room, and Jeffie hardly left it. When the hour grew near for her date,
she prepped herself as best as she could. Her efforts at applying her own
makeup did not measure up to what Strawberry could do. Wearing a pink blouse
with baby blue dots and seamless jeans, she left the room feeling as though
she’d done her best.

The
night was beautiful. The sun hadn’t quite gone down. The air carried a fresh
summer scent of pine and a touch of salty air on the breeze. By the time Jeffie
hit the narrow trail to go to their spot, she had regained the spring in her
step and hummed a song to herself. Worries of her conversations with the Plack
siblings were far away. Kobe hadn’t set candles out this time, and Jeffie had a
pretty good idea why. Instead there were four electric lights—one green, one
blue, one pink, and one white—at each corner of his new picnic blanket, the old
one having been burned by Brickert a few months prior.

As
soon as he saw her, Kobe began playing a slow, classical tune on a harmonica.
Jeffie giggled when she heard it. Kobe looked like he was barely keeping a
straight face, too. When she sat down, he stopped.

“Didn’t
like my music, huh?”

“Where
did you get that?” she asked.

Kobe
played another couple notes. “It’s Kaden’s. I taught myself that one song for
tonight.” He winked at her. “It’s a simplified version of
Moonlight Sonata
.”

“Mozart,
right?”

Kobe
shook his head.

“Bach?”

“Keep
trying.”

“Beethoven!”

“Ding
ding ding.”

“What
can I say?” Jeffie replied smugly. “Music is my strongest subject in
Instructions.”

They
made plenty of small talk before Kobe unveiled the dishes he had chosen for the
evening. It didn’t take long for conversation to turn to Jeffie’s altercation
with Strawberry. After she explained her side of the story, Kobe asked, “Why
don’t you tell her you’re sorry?”

Jeffie
scowled. “I tried. She wasn’t in the room when I went back.”

“Oh
. . . right. And Beta headquarters is such a huge place it’d be impossible to
find her.”

“Exactly!”

“Especially
with coms and stuff.”

“It’s
like a technological jungle, isn’t it?” She threw a grape at him, but he caught
it in his mouth. She rolled her eyes in response. Kobe grabbed a blade of grass
and stuck it between his teeth, rubbing them together and making the grass
squeak. He lay down until his head was right next to her. Jeffie followed suit
and rested her head next to his, her body pointing in the opposite direction.

“It’s
not that I don’t want to make amends. You know I do!”

“Mm-hmm,”
was his response as the squeaking got louder. “Sure you do.”

“Ugh.
You’re mean.” She turned to look at him to see if he wanted to kiss her. “You
remind me of my dad sometimes. You know that?”

Kobe
started to laugh, but then his mouth depressed slightly. The lines deepened
around his eyes and forehead as though he was thinking seriously about
something. Jeffie watched him for several seconds with a smirk, waiting to see
if she could actually witness him grasp whatever thought teased his brain.
Finally he stopped chewing on the grass and took the blade out of his mouth to
examine it.

“What
are you thinking about?”

“Um—nothing.”

“Tell
me.” She nudged him with her elbow.

Kobe
ignored her and rolled the blade back and forth along his tongue. Jeffie would
not have it. She jerked up and straddled him across his stomach, tickling his
ribs and armpits. “Tell me!” she repeated through gritted teeth, unable to stop
her own snickering.

Kobe
laughed, not out of mirth, but because of his ticklishness. “Stop! Stop!” he
wheezed.

But
she only put her fingers deeper into his sides. “Are you going to tell me?”

Jeffie
already knew what he was going to say. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but
didn’t know how to say it. They’d never said those words to one another, and
Jeffie wasn’t sure if she could reciprocate it quite yet. That didn’t stop the
thought of Kobe saying it from bringing a pleased smile to her lips.

Kobe’s
face was red and though she could tell he was barely breathing. He still wasn’t
willing to confide in her.

Her
tickles became more savage until she knew he must be going mad.

“All
right, I’ll tell!” he gasped.

Jeffie
stopped and slipped off to his side again. Kobe sat up, straightening his hair.
His face was still very red and he did not look happy. Jeffie thought for a
moment that she had gone too far.

“Are
you angry, Kobe? I’m sorry. I was just playing around.”

“I—no—I
don’t know. No.” He put a hand to his forehead. “No. Not at you. I—I realized
something, that’s all. Now I’m mad at myself.”

“Then
why do you seem so upset?”

His
eyes were wide and his face still had that troubled expression. Once again, his
fingers went up to his hair, straightening it out and flattening it.

“Kobe,
what is it?”

He
chucked the remains of the grass and turned his head away from her.

Jeffie
had the sudden impression he was doing all this to stall. She put a hand on his
shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.” She rubbed him
gently on the shoulder and back. “Really. I won’t push it.”

Kobe
pulled her close and kissed her fiercely. The kiss was both hungry and
mournful, lasting for several long, emotional seconds. When it ended, she
grinned brightly, but his face still hadn’t changed.

“I
need to tickle you more often.” When her comment did not cheer him up, she held
her breath for what was coming.

“I
was supposed to tell you something forever ago, but I only remembered just
now.” He stared at his shoes and reached blindly for another blade of grass,
picking it and putting it into his mouth, only to take it out right away. She
put her arms around him, and he let her hold him for a few seconds before
pulling away to face her. “It might be a stupid little thing, I don’t know. I
was supposed to tell you before—and I really did forget. You have to believe
me. You have to.” His eyes searched hers to see if she did believe him.

“It’s
okay. I won’t be mad.”

“I
know,” he said plainly, looking up at the stars. She thought about taking his
hand now, but knew he would pull it away. “I don’t know why this is so hard for
me to tell you—well, I know why, but I don’t know why it has to be such a big
deal.”

“Kobe,
just say it.”

“Things
have been hard on you since Sammy came back. And then left and came back and
left—”

“Yeah,
I get the point,” she said, her smile grew a little bigger.

Kobe
grinned for a second, too, but then it was gone, and Jeffie now doubted her
theory about what he was going to tell her.

“Thanks
for giving me a chance again, Jeffie. I didn’t deserve it, but you gave me one
anyway, and I appreciate it.”

Jeffie
said, “You’re welcome,” but the words came out so quiet that she didn’t think
Kobe heard it.

“When
Sammy and I were in Rio—in the bathroom I told you about. . . . Gosh, that
seems like it was years ago, but when we were there, we thought—we knew we were
going to die. Sammy was freaking out, crying on the floor, and I told him to
pull it together and use his brains to help us. I didn’t know if he could
really do it or not. I was so scared. He was so scared. The Thirteens were
chasing us. They weren’t far behind . . . so many of them, and we were holed up
in this disgusting bathroom.”

Jeffie
felt her arms and back tremble despite the warmth of the evening. Neither Sammy
nor Kobe had ever told her about this.
Why? And why now? What did I say to
remind him of this?

Kobe
hesitated before going on. For a moment, Jeffie thought he might not continue.

“So
then Sammy gets this brilliant idea with the mirror. He tells me and we
scramble around to make it work, you know, before the Thirteens come and find
us. And we’re sitting there. We’re—we’re waiting there behind a desk piled high
with broken glass—waiting to die because Sammy’s idea didn’t seem so brilliant
as I heard the Thirteens coming down the hallway, banging the doors open one by
one trying to find us. And he says, to me—he says,” Kobe paused and took a
trembling breath of air, “‘If I die and you don’t . . . tell Jeffie she
reminded me of my mother.’ And I promised him I would, but I didn’t. I haven’t
even thought about it until now. I don’t know why—I really don’t. I forgot.”

He
looked at Jeffie and stopped speaking. Jeffie realized that she had tears in
her eyes. She hadn’t noticed because she’d been seeing Kobe’s story so vividly
in her mind’s eye, it was almost as if she had been there with them.

“I—I—I
don’t know if that means something to you or not, but—” Kobe cleared his
throat.

Jeffie
wiped her eyes. The smile was back on her face. Kobe seemed relieved. “Yeah, it
means something.”

“What?”

“It
means I have to go.” She leaned forward and kissed Kobe on the cheek. “I’m
sorry. I really am, but I have to go now.”

Without
a backward glance, she stood and ran away before she lost control of herself.

17.
Fights

December 2056

In
Ultramax, inmates
showered once a week in single-person stalls.
Katie looked forward to her showers more than she could put into words and
always used her maximum allotted time. More than once a guard had walked in on
her while she was still nude, probably to get a peek of her. Katie had no doubt
she was the most attractive inmate at Ultramax, but if the guards wanted to
perv on her, what could she do about it?

Her
next shower date fell two days after she’d made her offer to the guards to let
her join the fights. As usual, they didn’t speak a word to her and gruffly
thrust her inside the stall, slamming the door behind her. The stall was about
three meters by three meters with stainless steel walls, floors, and ceiling.
The water fell from high above, so high that it could not be reached or
adjusted; controlling flow or temperature was impossible.

About
twenty minutes into her session, she was interrupted. Normally she showered for
forty-five minutes to an hour, so when the door opened early, she reacted as
she would any other day.

“I’m
not done!” she called out, shielding herself.

The
door opened anyway, revealing two male inmates. Both of them were much bigger
than her; one was tall and muscular with hair like straw sticking out of the top
of his head and buzzed off everywhere else, the other wide and beefy, his hair
shorn and replaced by tattoos. Both of the men’s tattoos shifted and changed
colors as they moved and flexed their muscles.

“Excuse
me!” she shrieked in her most offended voice. “I’m naked! Get out!”

The
men did not respond. She continued to cover herself, her eyes wide, feigning
fright.

The
taller man came at her while the larger blocked the door. Katie recognized
murder as thick as lust in the tall man’s eyes as he approached. He had no
grin, no emotion except that twisted desire to inflict pain on someone else.
Katie backed up to the far wall, shivering with anticipation as the hot water
continued to pour over her.

The
instant Tall Man crossed within her reach, her foot shot out like a coiled
spring, connecting with the side of the man’s knee. A strained grunt
reverberated off the shower walls as the man clutched his leg to the ground.
Switching feet, she jammed her heel into his forehead and snapped his head
backward into the tiled floor. Groveling and groaning and bleeding from his
nose and head, the injured inmate scooted himself toward the door. His clumsy
efforts made Katie grin. When Tall Man finally reached his destination, he
vomited on himself and passed out.

The
second, larger man’s expression turned curious. She knew he was wondering if
she had actually moved as fast as he’d seen. Large Man moved forward
cautiously. He dragged Tall Man by the clothes until he was upright against the
wall, always keeping his eyes on Katie.

He
rolled his sleeves above his elbows, flexing again as if he wanted to box.
Then, using the front wall to push off, he charged like a bull at Katie, no
doubt determined to bulldoze her against the back wall and crush her. Using her
naked, wet skin to her advantage, she pushed herself off the wall and slid
across the soapy tile toward the man’s legs. When they connected, she slammed
her fist into his left shin, grabbed his right ankle with a vice-like grip, and
jerked with everything she had.

The
attacker’s soles could not grip the soapy, wet steel, and his face slammed into
the floor with a cracking sound. Large Man grunted in pain and turned over.
Katie got to her feet and faced him once more, allowing him time to get up.

Now
you fear me, don’t you?
She grinned at him until his fear grew
more visible.
That’s right. I own you.

His
emotion fed her more than any prison food could. She took a step toward Large
Man. He tenderly stepped backward. Then she launched herself at him, chopping
his windpipe and then slugging his gut. Struggling to breathe, the man doubled
over and hit the tile face-first a second time. He coughed twice and the
rivulets of water swirling around his head turned pinkish. She stood over him,
pondering over how she would kill him.

I
can’t
, she finally decided.
The guards must see I have
self-control.

When
the guards came in less than a minute later, Katie faced them defiantly in
spite of their guns. They could not kill her in the shower or anywhere else
inside the walls, that much she knew. Instead they activated her collar. The
effect in the water brought her to her knees in agonizing screams. As she
passed out, she hoped that by handling these thugs they would let her fight.

For
the next three days, Katie received no walks in the prison yard and no food.
She tried to speak to the guards when they brought her water, but they would
not respond. At the end of the third day, with no warning or reason, her collar
shocked her again. She slipped off of her bed onto the floor and through the haze
of torture saw Schuller in his Elite uniform come into the cell and cuff her
wrists and ankles together.

He
carried a bowl of stew and put it on the ground near Katie’s face. Katie
lurched until she was able to get her face into the bowl. Famished beyond the
point of caring about her appearance, she sucked in mouthfuls of potatoes,
carrots, meat, and onion. Even her mother had not made better-tasting food.

“You
still want to fight?” Schuller asked.

Katie
nodded, her head in her bowl, broth soaking into her hair and ears as she
continued to eat as fast as she could.

“We
give the winner a whore for an hour,” the guard continued. “I’m guessing that
probably wouldn’t be a reward for you unless you’re—”

Katie
shook her head furiously, focused only on her food.

“Then
think of something you want if you win. That won’t be a problem, will it?
You’ll make me a lot of money the first couple of fights. I’ll be very grateful
if you win them by a narrow margin. We don’t do points, so you’ll have to pull
some of your punches.”

Katie
continued to slurp her stew as she took in every word Schuller said.

“A
couple of warnings. You tell anyone about what’s going on, we will kill you. If
you kill anyone in a fight, you’re done. Cut off.”

Katie
nodded again. The stew was now almost gone, but she continued to lick the
bowl’s sides.

“Your
first fight is tomorrow. From now on you’ll get a notice taped under your plate
or bowl.”

He
took the bowl away. Katie sat up, breathing hard. She spotted a small quantity
of soup dribbling down the side of the bowl and would have given a small toe to
be able to lick it up.

“Can
I have some more food?” She used her most innocent voice.

“Sure
you can,” Schuller answered as he activated her collar again, sending her to
the floor in seizures. “At breakfast.” Then he shocked her a third time so he
could take off her cuffs.

Katie
did not sleep well that night. Despite the pangs in her stomach, she couldn’t
help but glory in her plan thus far. The thought of her first fight made her
giddy.
I’ll be very grateful if you win by a narrow margin.
It would
take all her self-control to prevent herself from killing her opponent, but if
doing so led to her eventual escape, she could rein in the bloodlust.
Everything else bent to the one goal.

One
goal, always.

As
promised, breakfast came. After eating, Katie began feeling like herself again
despite her portion of food still seeming too small. Perhaps that was something
she could ask for in reward for winning: larger food portions.
Yes, I should
request that for starters.

When
the guards came to get her that night, she complied without any acts or hints
of aggression. Her opponent was already in the hall. He was a man with an
average build, red hair, and a smile that hung crooked on his face revealing
mostly chipped teeth. His upper incisor was chipped so badly it had turned a
grayish-green.

Seeing
Katie, he looked to his guards and sputtered out, “Is that Carpenter?”

He
grabbed his gut as he laughed a mottled, wheezing sound. The guards offered no
reaction, but Katie watched her opponent, sizing him up, trying to find
weaknesses in the way he stood and moved his arms. No one had taught her these
things. It came to her as naturally as breathing and blinking.

“Let’s
move, Red Cap,” the guard ordered, giving the man a light shove.

“But—but!”
The man called Red Cap continued to spout out questions as they walked to the
grounds, but all of them were ignored.

The
scene at the yard shocked Katie. Large spotlights shone down from the walls and
from setups on the backs of trucks. Over three dozen guards were in attendance
along with another ten or more men in various states of business dress standing
farther away. She would never have guessed the fights drew such a large
attendance, or that the corruption ran so deep. She had never met the warden,
but she was almost certain he was one of the men in suits near the back. Once
she and Red Cap entered the circle of armed guards, the betting began. Several
of the bettors inspected Katie with obvious skepticism, and she could not blame
them—not with her lithe, wiry frame.

“Two
rules,” Schuller hissed into her ear. “An act of submission stops the fight. A
blown whistle stops the fight. Other than that . . . remember what I told you.”

Red
Cap seemed to have overcome his initial shock at fighting a woman. His
confident, crooked smile on his thin red face perfectly matched his flaming
hair. Katie returned a calculated nervous expression while keeping an eye on
the way he shifted his weight and held his arms at his side. By the time the bets
finished and Katie and Red Cap were asked to face each other, she knew exactly
how she could beat him.

The
guards placed them about a meter apart. The positioning reminded Katie of the
mixed-martial-arts matches she had glimpsed on television when she was a girl.
A whistle blew in the back of the crowd and the fight commenced.

Cheers
rose from the guards and even some of the suits, almost all for Red Cap. Katie
received a few, too. Red Cap made the first move, immediately giving himself
away as a man with no formal combat training. Though Katie had none herself,
she almost laughed as he charged at her. She’d hoped they would be starting her
with someone more difficult than this after seeing what she had done to the men
in the shower.

After
intentionally missing him with a front kick, Katie let him run full into her
and knock her onto her back. Red Cap was quick to get on top of her, his fists
raining onto her face. Katie felt very little of it. She rolled over onto her
knees but Red Cap grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. She reacted by
bringing her left arm back and twisting his wrist until he had to let go. When
his hand released her hair, several strands of her locks stuck between his
small fingers.

He
tried to jump on her back and use his weight advantage to keep her down. Katie
easily outmaneuvered him. After letting him get a few more hits on her back and
skull, she scrambled away and kicked him directly in the forehead. His head
jerked back, and for a moment she was afraid she had indeed killed him. He
collapsed in the grass, face buried in the dirt, but his back rose and fell. He
was out cold.

Crap.

A
few cheers rang out, but the groans of disappointment were louder. Money
changed hands and cuffs found their way onto Katie’s wrists before she had time
to realize the fight was over. One of the men in suits came forward with a
stethoscope and listened to Red Cap’s breathing. Then he squeezed a small
plastic bottle into Red Cap’s nose. Katie watched Red Cap stir and mutter several
incoherent sentences until Schuller led her away from the yard.

“I
told you to go easy,” he muttered while leading her along roughly.