Division Zero: Lex De Mortuis (44 page)

Oh, I wouldn’t mind some instant gratification right now.
Her body protested the abrupt roundabout her brain pulled.
Why did I think about Evan right now? Oh, shit, maybe he’s in trouble…

“Shall I make reservations for next Friday?” He helped her into the limo.

“Okay.” The answer came autonomic, body overruled brain.

If she could stop worrying about the abyssals running around, perhaps she could allow herself to stop suffering. The desperate stare she sent at Konstantin’s chest turned away as he opened the door and got in. If she looked at him, if he asked one more time, she might not be able to resist.

itching the one-inch heels, Kirsten sprinted barefoot from the parking deck to the elevator, fidgeting the entire way to the thirty-ninth before running to Nila’s door. At the sound of two happy sounding children shouting “I got it” at the same time, she relaxed.

The door squeaked aside, revealing Evan and Shani squished into each other in a race to be the first to push the button. Shani looked down at the floor, a quiver of fear rattling through her. Kirsten stumbled into the apartment, half dragged by the enthusiastic grip of a nine-year-old boy thrilled to see her. Nila wandered in from the back, investigating the ruckus. Patches of blue, pink, and white light painted the ceiling of the dim living room, cast off from a large holo-bar projecting the image of a paused two-player game. Whatever it was, it seemed girly and involved cartoon rabbits―though Evan had apparently tolerated it to have something to do.

“I’m sorry.” Shani ground her toes into the rug.

Kirsten let her black bag slide from her shoulder and knelt. “Shani, it wasn’t your fault. A bad man did something to your head.”

Shani stared down, fidgeting with her dress. “I have bad dreams. Do you still want to shoot me?”

Those words brought tears. Kirsten looked at Nila, as if for permission, and after receiving a nod, pulled the girl into a hug. “I never wanted to shoot you, Shani. I…”
would’ve just stood there and let you kill me.
“…could never do it.”

Evan looked horrified. “Why would Mom shoot you? You’re not a bad ghost.”

Kirsten pulled him into the hug as well. “A bad person forced her to point a gun at me.”

Shani sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Thank you for not killing me.”

Nila shivered. “Commander Ashford said you got it all. He couldn’t find any latent triggers.”

“Can I borrow your bathroom or bedroom to change real quick?”

“Of course.” Nila gestured at the rear hall. “Coffee?”

The kids ran around the couch and dove into the cushions where they resumed the game.

“Sounds good.”

In the back bedroom, Kirsten removed a plain, blue long-sleeve shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nomz. After changing, she pushed the small metal cat face on the tip of the sneakers, and they adjusted themselves to a perfect fit.

She paused at the entrance to the living room, watching the children control cartoon bunnies navigating a three-dimensional maze in search of candy-like fruits, vegetables, and stars. When the smell of coffee found her nose, she dropped the bag behind the couch and went into the kitchen. At the sight of her pink-and-white cat sneakers, Nila laughed.

“Aren’t you a little old for those?” She poured them each a cup. “I didn’t know they made them in adult sizes.”

“They’re huge in Japan. It’s a cult thing, I guess.” Kirsten fell into a tall stool-seat by the island counter. “I thought they were cute.”

“I thought you got tired of being teased about looking so young. They don’t help.”

“Bah.” She sipped it black. “I guess I’m just trying to sneak in a few moments of a lost childhood here and there.”

Nila gave her that patronizing, sympathetic look she always resented; the kind of look only someone with parents who accepted their kid’s talents could give someone like her. For Dorian’s sake, she did not take it as condescending.

“How are your parents doing?”

Nila added an inordinate amount of Glucosim to her coffee, enough to where Kirsten expected the spoon to stand up in it. “I called them once Ashford got done scrubbing my brain. I don’t even remember if I spoke to them since Dorian was killed. They’re doing well, considering going to Cairo on vacation next month.”

“Cairo? What, actual Egypt?” Kirsten blinked.

“Don’t look so shocked, it’s not ACC. Most of the region is independent still, though not for lack of trying. I don’t think anyone will ever take it over.” She winked.

“Thanks for watching Evan tonight.”

“How’d it go? I want all the juicy details.”

Kirsten regaled her with the ever-so-boring recap; leaving out the fine details of the demons.

“Oh, hard to get? That’s evil of you. Well don’t push it too far; millionaire playboys like him don’t come along every day.”

“No.” She furrowed her brow. “They don’t.”

As tired as she felt, Kirsten found it amazing Evan’s endless ramble about the game he and Shani spent most of the day playing did not bother her. Nothing odd happened to him, he did not feel threatened or watched, though he did admit to a sudden pang of worry about her. She found it disconcerting that the thought of him would come on as such a powerful distraction with Konstantin’s tongue on the side of her neck. She guided the patrol craft a few meters away from Nila’s building, resisting the urge to hit the bar lights when traffic offered no quick opportunity to join the stream.

“Why are you red again?”

“I’m worrying.”

“Oh. Job stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Shani said she had a nightmare in her head that made her shoot her mom.” Evan’s face hardened into a determined glare. “Don’t worry. No one is powerful enough to make me shoot you.”

She reached over and held his hand, flashing a smile. An opening in the lane shot past, and she gunned it, coming in above the stream of cars before settling down into the gap.

Her forearm guard rang, muffled. She left it bundled in the uniform in the bag, which was in the back seat. Evan scrambled through the gap and rummaged for the source of the noise. It stopped ringing just as he held it up. With a shrug, he carried it with him back into the front seat and studied his reflection in the shiny black surface.

It rang again, this time he answered. N0ra appeared, eyeliner smeared down her cheeks, her voice wavering.

“Kid? Sorry, I guess I misdial―”

“Nora?” Kirsten shouted. “I’m here, just driving. That’s Evan. What’s wrong?”

“You told me to call you if something weird happened.”

“Did you see Vikram’s ghost?”

“I dunno what it was.” She sniffled, threatening to explode into tears at any moment. “Something black came out of the walls. The Promacor guys went crazy. They started shooting at everything. I’m so damn scared I can’t stop shaking. I ran like a mother… It, this black thing followed me out of the building. The guys at the front gate were all dead. I had to climb the friggin fence ̓cause the power was out.” N0ra held up a bloody, shredded sleeve. “Fucking hate barbed wire.” She shivered, hands against her mouth for a moment, and looked up at someone behind her. “Sorry for swearing. I’m, okay… I’ve got the police on the phone,” she said to the person behind her before facing the VidPhone. “It felt so evil, it wanted to kill me.”

“Where are you?”

N0ra’s image blurred and faded, though the sound of crying came through loud and clear. A man in his middle forties appeared, the image wobbled and blurred as the phone worked to compensate for focus.

“Who is this? Are you this girl’s mo… no, sister?”

“Agent Kirsten Wren, Division 0 police. You are?”

He seemed to relax. “Father Carlos Villera, Five Hundredth Street Sanctuary.”

The expected instant dislike of a priest surprised her with its absence. “I’ll be right there.”

“Can I turn on the police stuff?” Evan bounced in his seat.

“Go ahead, but put your belt on.”

Evan readily secured himself in the seat. “Yaaaaay! Are we gonna go shoot bad guys?” he yelled, louder than the siren.

“I have no idea what’s waiting for us. Stay in the car, please.”

He nodded, smirking. “Awright.”

Dorian leaned in from the back seat, yawning as if coming out of a deep nap. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yeah, like the dead.”

Evan rolled his eyes.

The Five Hundredth Street Sanctuary was located in the husk of an old hardware store, complete with a disused parking lot full of trash. Amid a merchant-zoned section of the city, it sat at about the midpoint of CR 500, an east-west conduit running through a poor manufacturing section. Churches, per se, had not much survived the corporate war and restructuring of society along the coastal regions. Increasing secularization combined with the need to cram so many millions of people into one city had all but eliminated the plausibility of monolithic cathedrals, temples, mosques, or the like; a fact Kirsten did not mind. However, as the faithful are wont to do, pockets of them continued in improvised locations. Most of the religious buildings she knew about were underneath the plates. Some of the truly dedicated would even make the trek down there, believing the original places to be sacred. Some, like Father Carlos Villera, obtained the resources to use commercially zoned buildings.