Nylon Angel (5 page)

I knew that skin as well as my own.

‘What use is he to you?’ She jerked her head towards Sto.

He was yawning widely and watching porn vids in the back of her lab, his skinny, pale imperfections totally out of place among the benches of glossy, plastic half-faces and perfect bodyparts. After dragging his arse through a bunch of dirty Shadoville attics we’d ventured out and caught the Trans-train back to Plastique. I’d picked the newest carriage with the only functioning CCU and hoped that’d keep the bounty hunters shy.

‘I think the Cabal Coomera set him up on a job. One of them picked him up on the back of his bike. They blew up the car. Now Militia is after Sto as the accomplice because they got a clear shot of his face on the Hi-way vidcams,’ I said.

‘Doesn’t explain what you’re doing with him.’

‘I figure he must know
something
about the rider. Y’know . . . twitches, missing teeth, something, how he smelt. Under Easy-tell . . .’

‘
E-tell!
How you goin’ to pay for that?’

‘Could you loan me, Doll?’ I loathed asking. I never had before, not ever, but desperation changed things.

She shook her head emphatically. ‘No. I want you to give up this stupid dream, Parrish. The Cabal Coomera is a men-only club. Kadaitcha stuff. They don’t want the likes of you. Even if you hunt one of them down they’ll never let you in. They’ll never give you sanctuary.’

‘I’ve got to get away from Jamon, Doll. Can’t you see that?’ Anger rushed up the back of my neck. I added sullenly, ‘You’re no help.’

Her face sagged with resignation. ‘Come on, you know how it is, Parrish. I don’t want a war with Jamon. As soon as Tedder knew I had trouble with Jamon, he’d be round to ambush me in a second. I’d be out of business. Think about it. Then you’d have nowhere to come. As it stands, I can give you some protection. Accept your life and deal with it.’

I stared at her.

‘Come on Parrish,’ she wheedled, ‘you know how I feel about you. Listen, I got some free time now. What say we go somewhere a bit more private?’ She touched my face.

I stepped back, suddenly sickened. In her own way she was just as manipulative as Jamon. I wanted rid of all of them. Her, Mondo, everyone who wanted a piece of me.

I was drowning.

‘I need some time to think things over, Doll. Can you keep him safe for a couple of hours? You owe me that at least.’

She nodded slowly, unhappy at the knockback. ‘I’ll keep him. But don’t do anything stupid. You want one of my girls to watch your back?’ Wariness creased her face.

Maybe she thought she’d really pissed me off this time.

She had.

‘I can look after myself.’

‘Yeah, Parrish. Sure you can.’

 

Outside, Plastique’s business hub revved on full throttle. I found a cafébar crammed between The Toxic Sushi and a room selling fake IDs, and ordered a whisky latte. As the waitress brought me my drink I pondered over the amazing things people had on their nails these days. She had two tiny lizards lassoed on to hers. They squirmed and wriggled as she scripted my bill. What happened when she washed the dishes and wiped her butt?

‘Cute, huh?’ she drawled, admiring them.

‘Do you believe in reincarnation?’ I asked sweetly.

‘What’s that? Some type of devil worship?’ Hope sparked in her eyes as she set the drink down.

I trapped her hand flat with the weight of mine and nicked the lassoes with one of my lapel pins. One lizard scampered free, the other one moved the wrong way and I sliced its head off.

‘Hey, what you think you’re doing?’ she squawked.

‘I read lizards for a job. In your next life watch out some asshole doesn’t come along and cut your head off.’

She snatched her hand away and stalked off muttering about the weirdos she had to put up with in this job.

I was pretty soft over creatures. Not just creatures. Defenceless things. I guess when you wallowed around for long enough at the bottom of the pile you worked out your own code of ethics. I’d been pushed enough, used enough, that the battle wasn’t just a hobby any more. It was a fucking crusade.

I sipped on the latte and contemplated getting drunk, but I’d made a deal with the incredible leather hulk that I’d babysit his skinny friend and I knew I couldn’t trust Doll for more than a few hours.

Maybe just one more drink!

They sent a Pet to serve me this time.

‘You any relation to Mikey?’ I asked it.

‘Sure, lady.’ A strange, resonant artificial voice. ‘Weall look-a-like. We-all brothers.’

I couldn’t decide if it was joking.

The second latte made me feel a whole lot better. Milk and whisky. Innocence and vice.

As I raised the glass to drain it, a scent filled my head. Caustic.

A preacher of some sort in a dusty black coat, collar and hat shuffled in and sat on the torn vinyl of my booth.

‘It’s taken,’ I said curtly.

‘So nice to see you again, Parrish.’

I peered at the preacher. ‘I don’t know you.’ My skin prickled in uncomfortable waves. Arms, legs, scalp.

‘Let us pray that you might remember.’ He bowed his head.

Caustic. Stronger now. I remembered the scent.
Lang? Io Lang?
I took a drink to disguise my right hand as it fished for the garrotting wire.

He chuckled. ‘There is no need for such . . . brutal measures, Parrish. This is simply a business meeting.’

I stared at his profile, searching for something familiar. This was not the man I had met at Jamon’s dinner party. The nose was too long and crooked, the skin reddened and slightly peeling, the forehead protruding. His coat was strapped with beads and crosses.

‘Don’t tell me,’ I said sarcastically, ‘you’re Lang’s identical twin.’

‘Look closer, my dear.’

He raised his head so I could see full into his face and for a moment the entire composition altered. Skin tones, bone structure, expression. The man who had warned me against the poisoned seafood at Jamon’s emerged. Unmistakable.

‘How did you do that?’ I whispered. Manufacturing a disguise was one thing, but this was like . . . like magic.

‘Let’s just say I earned it.’ His face realigned back into its disguise as a preacher. ‘Perhaps you can too.’

His words kick-started a wild hammering in my chest. The possibilities of possessing such an ability rushed over me, leaving me trembling. I struggled to be careful, to be cool.

‘What do you want?’ I knew I sounded too eager. Next thing I’d be asking if he wanted me to roll over.

He handed me a miniature disk. ‘Here’s an address. Bring me the contents of their computer files. If anyone sees you, kill them.’

‘And?’ There it was again. Little Miss Eager.
Chill, Parrish, chill
.

‘I can make you invisible.’

I signalled the Pet and ordered a straight black coffee, no alcohol. I didn’t want Lang disappearing before I could get my head totally straight. I took a gulp of my drink and scalded the back of my throat.

The Pet giggled, a sound like a boy wheezing in a tin drum. I told it to scram before I ripped out its resonator.

When it had rolled away, I fixed Lang with a flat stare.

‘That’s a handy trick, Lang. But what does it take for someone to become like you? Voodoo? Do I have to cut out my heart and feed it to the devil?’ Then I tossed in one last question for good measure. ‘And anyway, why me? There must be a thousand hacks in The Tert that could pull a break and enter. It’s not really my line.’

He waited a couple of heartbeats, as if testing the weight of his next disclosure.

‘The contents of those files, delivered into the right hands, will send your esteemed employer to death row.’

Mondo on death row!

Whatever his reasons were, he had me. Hook, line and ten-tonne sinker.

I’d do it for nix.

 

By the time I got back to Doll’s villa, Sto was asleep - drool stringing from the corner of his mouth, eyes rolling in REM - curled like a baby on a lab bench. I hadn’t even used E-tell on him and he already had half the symptoms. He cradled a replica of a woman’s head and torso in one arm. As I loosed it from his grip, I noticed the synth head had pink curls and almond eyes. And they say there’s no such thing as love at first sight! Wait till I told Mei.

Doll was nowhere to be seen.

A faint thrumming started up in my ear, so I sat down in front of Doll’s comm and answered my call. While it connected I played the usual guessing game people did as they answered their spike. Who was it? What lies would I need to tell?

I should have known.

‘Parrish? Is that you? Is everything all right?’

‘Who do you think you are?’ I snapped at Dark’s concerned face. ‘My freaking mother?’

‘Is Sto safe?’

I sighed. ‘Your little buddy’s fine. Now get on and rustle up his relatives. I’m busy.’

‘Have you been drinking?’ His voice was sharper this time.

Have I been drinking? Who
was
this guy?

‘If I thought it was any of your business, I’d answer that. But it isn’t.’

‘Something’s wrong?’ He didn’t give up easily.

I suddenly noticed that his chest was still bare. For some reason it made me even madder.

‘Where are you?’ I asked suspiciously. ‘Where’s Mei?’

He gave a gut-deep laugh. ‘I could say, “If I thought it was any of your business, I’d answer that”,’ he mimicked my voice. ‘But that wouldn’t get us anywhere, would it?’

Without the leather and chains he could have starred in an advertisement for men’s aftershave: serious and clean-skinned; the kind of face every girl wants to rub her thighs over.

‘There’s a rumour around that there’s a police embargo on crossing to the Outer. The cops want Razz Retribution’s murderer. They’ve blockaded all the train stops. I don’t think I can get out to find Sto’s relatives.’

It took me a minute to take in what he was saying.

The Tert had always been a strip of earth that the wealthy in Vivacity would like to have nuked (in fact they probably would have if it hadn’t been too damn close for fallout), but there had never been any problem getting in and out.

Reason told me that it would be almost impossible to cut The Tert off. The Fishertown side alone stretched for nearly one hundred and fifty klicks. Then there was the Filder river access. How would they police such a huge, untidy sprawl? This embargo sounded more like a hallucination by one of Hein’s more demented patrons.

‘Aren’t you too big for scary stories?’ I sniped at him. His earnestness worked like a cheese-grater on my psyche.

Frustration swept across his face. ‘Go and check it out yourself. See what I mean.’

Pink fuzz appeared at the bottom of the screen, just below his jawline. Then the monitor tilted and Mei’s face appeared.

‘Parrish? Quit griping. He’s right. There’s an embargo at all Trans stops.’

‘What are you doing? And where are
you
?’ I snapped.

She gave me that sly, eyes-half-closed look. ‘If I didn’t know better, girl, I’d say you was jea—’

‘Know better!’

A faint noise behind told me I wasn’t alone any more. ‘I’ll contact you soon.’ I cut the connection.

‘She’s right about the embargo, Parrish! By the way, who’s the beefcake? He looks familiar.’

Doll stood in the doorway of the lab. The dull fluorescent light imbued her skin with a greyish tinge, reducing her expression to something callous and empty.

A flash of insight gripped me. A perspective shift. One I hadn’t sought.

Doll - a tired, scared, selfish old woman. It left me marvelling at what had ever led me to share a bed with her.

Probably the same thing that had sent me running from my stepdad. I’d thought men were the enemy.

Now I saw my mistake.

The enemy was anyone I rolled over for.

Ignoring the crack about beefcake, I rinsed my face off in one of the basins, patting it dry on some absorbent plastic. I didn’t think Doll had it in her to do a jealous number, but I didn’t want to find out right now.

Sto still snored peacefully on the bench top, one hand outstretched like he was reaching for something. Mei, perhaps? How could I mainline E-tell into someone who looked like they’d lost their favourite snuggly toy?

I couldn’t.

Relief brought me out in a light sweat. Sto could keep what existed of his brain - Lang had offered me another way.

Doll broke the silence. ‘You need to go, Parrish. The whole world is looking for this jerk. Don’t bring them to my doorstep.’

‘Sure, Doll.’ It wasn’t worth an argument. I’d always be able to count on her for certain things, as long as I understood her limits. I did.

‘Will I see you soon?’

‘No,’ I said.

And now she understood mine.

I shook Sto awake and we left.

W
e headed back to Mei’s cubicle in Shadoville via The Slag, on a moped whose cracked solar panels wavered around on coils like deformed antennae. Solar ’peds weren’t popular on account of their unreliability in bad weather.

Mostly Tert people used the more disfigured of the Pets if they wanted to travel distance inside The Tert, but I had an aversion to them. It didn’t seem right riding on the back of a child even if it was the machine section that carried most of the weight. They reminded me a bit of a rocking horse with a kid’s head - only the legs moved independently.

Not that I was naive about Pets! They had their own ways of taking care of themselves. Anyone stupid enough to hurt one usually wound up staked out on a poisoned slag heap somewhere. Pets might be low in The Tert pecking order, but even they had their defences.

I took a route back to Shado through The Slag because I knew the Pomme de Tuyeau would be in chaos if the train had stopped. Plus I didn’t like Sto’s chances of staying unnoticed in the more commercial areas.