Matthew S. Cox's Blog, page 17

Update and randomness

Happy Thursday all. I’m sure some of you are wondering what happened to the expected installment for Daughter of Mars, which I’ve spent the better part of the past almost two years posting once a week on Thursdays. I have good and bad news on that front. The good news is that Curiosity Quills has signed that series for publication. The bad news… for obvious reasons, I can no longer post it online as part of the publishing contract.

Of course this leaves me without a weekly thing to post about, so I’ll have to start coming up with some other random stuff rather than a serial fiction which, perhaps was entirely missing the point of this whole blogging thing. I am up to my eyeballs in edits at the moment, so today’s post is going to be brief… but eventually I’ll find something to rattle on about

Updates: I’m getting excited about the release of my second young adult book, The Summer the World Ended, which is due out on 6/29. Eleven days left. There’s an online release party on Facebook on the 29th, with some games and prizes to be won. Please feel free to drop in: https://www.facebook.com/events/800375976744247/  A few people have commented that the main character of my first YA book, Caller 107, was a little hard to like at first (which was on purpose – it is, after all, a story of karma and second chances) – so far the feedback I’m getting about Riley says people are rooting for her.

Back to the Daughter of Mars series. The first book, Hand of Raziel, is scheduled for release in August of 2016. Araphel, book 2, is finished, but still in the process of editing.

ARCHON’S QUEEN – book two of the Awakened series is due for release in August 2015. I will hopefully have some cover art to share pretty soon. Looks like GREY RONIN, book 3 of the series, is on target for May 2016. DAUGHTER OF ASH, book 4 is scheduled for March 2017, ZERO ROGUE for January 2017, and ANGEL DESCENDED (the end of the series) for August 2018.

In October of this year, my first foray into middle grade fantasy, EMMA & THE BANDERWIGH is coming out on the 12th.

 

If anyone is interested in advanced reader copies for The Summer the World ended in exchange for an honest review on or around release day, send me an email – mcox2112@gmail.com

Anyway… off to the editing mines.

Related posts:


Tour | The Summer the World Ended

Release Party | Division Zero Thrall

Lex De Mortuis Release Event

Daughter of Mars #91 | (Neurona Prime Part 3)

(Start from the beginning)

Risa stared into the child’s too-blue eyes. A shade of bright cerulean similar to the color of water by a white-sand beach on Earth. The girl’s unimpressed expression and matter-of-fact demeanor spoke volumes of a life spent as her father’s dealmaker―a tool. For a moment, her grief over Pavo’s death stepped aside to let pity in the door. She wrapped her arms around Chaia, squeezing her with a worried hug.

Chaia weathered it, arms stiff at her sides. “I’m okay.”

“Sorry.” Risa let go.

“I understand. You’re sad because you lost someone and your emotions are all over the place.” Chaia tilted her head and offered a tiny smile. “My father loved me. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

“There I go assuming the worst of people again.” Risa tried to rub clarity into her eyes. “So you touch the car and know she went in there?”

“Yes.” Chaia spun her head towards the building fast enough to cause her blonde bob to flare. “I’m a clairvoyant. I sometimes see psychometric imprints in objects. When I touched the car, I saw her park, get out, and storm across the courtyard. She was mad at the man inside.”

“Okay…” Risa took the girl’s hand. “Let’s see what the Defense Force missed.”

She waited for three armored MDF officers to walk past before leaving the relative safety of the shadowy wall. Chaia struggled to keep up with Risa’s hurried gait; pink light flashed on the ground wherever her sneakers landed hard. Automatic doors parted without a sound, allowing them entry to a room filled with the scent of new electronics and plastic.

Display cases dominated the far wall, packed with an uncountable number of cyberspace decks. The smallest looked no larger than a brick, while the largest was as large as a professional musician’s electronic piano. Cherry red, military green, black, and white seemed to be the favorite case colors. Prices ranged from Ͼ10,000 all the way up to two million, though anything over sixty grand existed as a hologram only.

Three exuberant kids in the far right zoomed around the gaming section, checking out senshelmets with cosmetic modifications to look like armor from their favorite titles. A man hovered close to them, as wide eyed as his sons at all the tech. Risa wandered through the closer shelves, disregarding shirts with logos of various ‘net celebrities’ or companies. In the back corner by the ‘tech support counter,’ stood a clear cylinder with mechanical pads at either end that resembled a smaller version of a medical tank. A white plastic egg at the top of a silver post projected a holo-panel demonstrating the ‘hack tube.’ For a mere four hundred thousand credits, a person could stay in the ‘net indefinitely―or at least until the six month reservoir of nutrient liquid ran out.

A shady man paused at the edge of a display of ‘gaming chairs,’ lurking a few paces behind them and sucking on a red-tipped Nicohaler. After Risa took two random turns to different aisle, it became evident he followed them. His attention seemed locked on the child. Risa put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and guided her in front, standing between them. Chaia looked up and smiled with a subtle shake of the head.

The man thinks I’m going to steal because I’m a little dirty. He’s not a threat. He works here.

Risa glared at him before continuing to ‘browse.’ The security man shadowed them as they wandered around the entire store for twenty minutes. Her cybereyes cycled back and forth from magnification to thermal vision modes, but revealed nothing useful. Might as well try the old-fashioned approach. She wandered up to the sales counter, on the far left side of the rectangular store, opposite the support desk. Her snug, gloss black bodysuit seized the attention of the clerk as soon as she emerged from the aisle into an open area where thin plastic ribbons suspended between posts defined a queue, in case enough people wanted to pay at once to force a wait. He looked in his later twenties, and flashed the kind of smirking grin that said his mind was peeling Risa’s clothes away.

Short, black hair wavered as he checked her out, swept up and to his left side like an ebon fireball frozen in flight. Blue circuit lines spread down the side of a clingy, indigo shirt with a high neck. The name ‘Nevin’ shimmered on the breast of his shirt below the store’s name, lit by embedded fiperoptics.

“Now that is a sight.” He leaned on the counter. “Mind if I stare at you for a few minutes?”

Risa put her hands on her hips. “Go ahead and take an image cap to use later.”

He cringed. “Coldness. I get off in two hours.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “From the looks of things, you already have.”

“Ouch.” He leaned back, hand on his chest. “I’m good for a little longer than that.” He smiled and gestured at the electronics. “Can I help you with something… less fun?”

“You tell me.” Risa used her NetMini to project a holographic image of Aurelia’s face. “I know this woman was here. I need to find her.”

All enthusiasm melted out of his expression. Meters and graphs appeared around his head, traced to his eyes, lips, and cheek by hairline threads. Risa’s somatic response system detected a slight dilation of the pupils, and a three percent increase in facial perspiration.

“Cops asked the same thing,” said Nevin. “Haven’t seen her.”

A yellow dot blinked in her vision by a floating sound graph bearing the word: ‘suspicious.’

“Are you sure?” Risa estimated the position of the three kids, thirty-nine feet behind and to the left. She set a hand on Chaia’s shoulder, ready to shove her out of the way if something went wrong. I can’t let this go tactical.

“Yeah.” Nevin’s visible interest in her assets shriveled. “Never saw her.”

Chaia peered up at Risa, her expression one of innocence. He’s lying. He’s the one who talked to her.

“Aurelia’s shoulder camera had an image of your face on it”―Risa shot a pointed stare at his shirt ―“Nevin. I’m not with the Defense Force. You can tell me what happened.”

Red lines appeared on Nevin’s face, superimposed by her cybernetics to illustrate blood vessels in the face. His heart rate increased. Chaia sucked in a huge breath and clamped her hands over her mouth and nose.

Risa’s eyes widened.

She launched herself over the counter, landing with her knees on Nevin’s shoulders and two fistfuls of shirt. He flailed at small shelves behind him, causing a waterfall of thin plastic cases to fall with them. One popped open, exposing an eight-inch square foam tile protecting a flea-sized skill chip. Perched on his chest, she held her right hand over his face. Nano claws sprouted in half the span of an eye blink. Five droplets of blood patted onto his white Marsborn cheeks, the tips less than a quarter inch from skin.

“Toxic gas, Nevin? Really? You think someone with a Somatic wouldn’t have a filter?”

His eyes crossed at the gleaming points. “You lied about having me on vid.”

“You lied about not seeing her.” Risa summoned her most emotionless face.

“I suppose we’re even.” He grinned, as calm as if they were on a date, and palmed her ass. “Stealth suit. Nice.”

She ignored the contact. “What happened to Aurelia? Three seconds.”

“You won’t kill me because you want what I know.” He rubbed her backside. “Shame this suit is so thick, I can’t feel much.”

“Where?” she asked, a hint of a growl underlining the word as she let the tips of her claws touch him.

Chaia climbed up onto the counter and sat, leaning over enough to peer down at them. “It was sleeping gas. He used it on your friend.” She plucked a small keychain video game out of a bowl and fidgeted with it.

“Where is Aurelia?” Risa squinted.

“You’re in way over your head.” Nevin’s eyes shifted towards the girl.

“He dragged her to the back and gave her to some men. Tier 6, Sector 74, abandoned residence complex with a smiling man painted on the wall.” Chaia shook her head as if chiding a little boy. “Don’t stab Risa with the blade in your arm.”

“Fucking psio!” The man shoved Risa up by the hand already kneading her ass.

She thrust her claws out, but his boosted strength launched her faster than she could rake, sparing him a free facial piercing. Her speedware activated in midair, reducing her flight to a casual glide. Risa swung her arms to torque her body around and extended her legs to catch herself against the wall.

Nevin rolled to his feet. A pair of sixteen-inch vibro claws erupted from between his knuckles. Risa’s momentum compressed her in a squat against the plastisteel. Chaia remained perched on the counter like a cat, swinging her one dangling leg, barely acknowledging Nevin’s presence despite him rearing his arm back to take her head off.

Risa’s scream of anger vibrated through her skull, low and distorted due to her perception of time. She leapt sideways at him, reaching to catch his arm in her left hand while her right hand’s claws went for his chest. Nevin’s blades passed three inches from Chaia’s cheek as the force of Risa’s collision pushed him away from her. She plunged her claws into his shoulder, slicing his collarbone in four pieces; he let off a gurgled cry of pain, and supported Risa’s weight for three stumbling steps before falling on his back, again with her on top of him. She leaned more weight on her left arm, pinning his right to the floor.

“P-please… don’t kill me.” Nevin wheezed. “You don’t say ‘no’ to those people.”

Risa clenched her bladed fingers enough to make him scream. “You were going to kill a twelve year old girl. There’s not much you can say to make me not end you right here.”

“She’s a psio! Damn mind-stealing freak. I-I panicked. They’ll kill me for talking to you and I didn’t even say anything.” His face reddened. He moaned. The blades protruding from his right arm scraped at the floor as he writhed.

Risa glanced between her knees. An expanding sheen spread through his dark shirt, the reflected light the only sign of blood upon indigo. It wouldn’t take much to kill him, another inch or two down and to the left. Pavo wouldn’t want me to, would he?

“Who are they?” Risa glanced at Nevin’s vibro blades. “Put those away or I’ll take your arm at the elbow.”

Nevin made a fist and the weapons retracted into his arm. “No idea. They came in here a couple days ago and told me I was going to help them. They knew we had the shoplifter pacification system.”

“He’s not lying,” said Chaia from above and behind.

“So fucking creepy.” Nevin shivered.

Risa shook her head. Her ebon hair slipped off her shoulders, draping in front of her. “You gas an entire store full of people to catch a shoplifter?”

“We only use it for armed robbery.” Nevin cringed, gasping as Risa pulled her claws out of him.

“And abducting Defense Force officers.” Her claws snapped back into her finger and she grabbed a fistful of his collar. “You’re so damn lucky I have an overinflated sense of guilt.”

“She’s not a child, she’s a damn psio.” Nevin reached across his chest to clasp the five small holes in his shoulder. “It was self-defense. She’s in my head.”

“I don’t think the Defense Force would see it that way since she’s a minor. Not to mention how they’d react to your role in an officer’s kidnapping. That’s why you haven’t hit the alarm, am I right?”

“There’s no proof.” Nevin cringed and gasped; blood seeped through his fingers. “They doctored the security recordings, and the DF won’t take your psio-freak’s word for shit. Go ahead, tell them.”

Dammit. They won’t even help me. Probably lock me up as a suspect if I tell them I know where she is. Risa shifted her weight onto her feet and stood.

“He’s going to shoot you in the back when we leave. It won’t traumatize me to watch you kill him.” Chaia dropped the keychain video game back in the bowl. “He would’ve cut my head off if you didn’t jump on him.”

“The freak didn’t even flinch.” Nevin shivered.

Risa gawked at the girl. Her cyberware indicated a probable lie based on heart rate. She’s just trying to scare him. Chaia smiled.

“It seems we’ve got a bit of a clusterfuck, Nevin.” Risa pulled him up by his shirt. “I really think I’d be doing Mars a favor by killing you, but I don’t have time to deal with the aftermath.” Whirring vibrated through her skull as she extended her Fangz. “Nap time.”

A sudden glazed expression took over his face; his body went limp. She twisted around to look up at Chaia who stared with intense concentration into Nevin’s eyes. Whatever she was doing to his mind left him disoriented. I haven’t felt like killing someone this bad since I wanted the bastard who ordered my father’s death. She sighed. Too much heat, no time.

Risa crouched and lifted Nevin’s forearm to her mouth. Cybernetic fangs punctured his skin, pumping him full of tranquilizing drugs. He faded in seconds, snoring. She spat blood after her teeth retracted to normal length.

“Eww,” said Chaia. “You bit him. That’s like… what if he had a disease or something? That’s a stupid way to knock someone out.”

“No room in my finger for a needle. Have to use fangs. They’re uh… for stealth.” Risa climbed over the counter and helped Chaia down. “What did you do to him?”

“He was about to reach for a gun. I made him dizzy. Daddy called it ‘mind fog.’”

“I didn’t see a―”

“Behind his back.” Chaia put a hand behind her as if pulling a weapon from her belt.

Risa swished saliva around her mouth and spit again once they were outside. “I hate that taste.”

“Blood?”

“No, the drug.” Risa turned right, walking away from the Defense Force blockade. “Damn.”

Chaia followed close. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to bring you into a dangerous situation. I don’t know if there’s enough time to take you back to the safehouse. I don’t―”

“I should go. I know what the building looks like.” She tilted her head to the right, not a trace of worry in her.

Risa grabbed Chaia’s hand and rushed towards the first left. A quick mental command brought up an overlay screen with a map pointing to the nearest path down to Tier 6, an elevator cluster in front of the Primus Medical Center. “You’re a kid and I’m the one being reckless and irresponsible. I wish I had your courage.”

Flashing pink lights reflected in flashes over the slick plastisteel floor from her sneakers as she ran. “I’m not brave. I’ve already seen the end of the story.”

Chaia crashed against Risa’s back when she stopped short at a corner to scope out a group of miscreants gathered in the orange glow of a bar’s holographic sign. Nine figures in black jackets emblazoned with a large number 97 on the back, styled as if spray-painted on stone, blocked the path to the street she wanted. A woman about Risa’s age spun pistols around her fingers like a gunslinger. Two men ran through the motions of a swordfight in slow motion. All of them had a synthbeer in hand or nearby.

For all the Defense Forces in the city, there’s so many gangs. Another virtual panel spread out next to the map. Using a still image captured by her eyes, she ran a search on the MarsNet, which returned a hit on a gang known as Code 97, a reference to the MDF designation for ‘street violence.’

The girl wrapped her arms around Risa from behind and peeked for a second before looking up. Why are you seeing computer screens?

Risa thought about having cybernetic eyes and electronics in her head.

Chaia shivered. Eww.

According to the article, most considered them an impatient group with a reputation for acts of vigilantism and warfare with other gangs. The girl leaned out again, observing them. Risa skimmed the article; the overall tone suggested someone in the gang edited it recently, as it made them look like street saints.

Maybe they’ll leave us alone.

“They will.” Chaia stepped out of the passage and pulled Risa by the hand to the cross street.

A few catcalled Risa, but none made move to follow.

Chaia stopped on the street, whirled about, and grinned. “See?”

Risa looked away from the young, eager face staring up at her. What am I doing taking a kid with me.

“Your friend doesn’t have much time.” Chaia pulled on her arm, backing into the glow of the Primus City Medical center’s courtyard. “You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not me I’m worrying about.” This is stupid.

“Stop wasting time.” The girl let go of her hand and ran to the elevators.

Risa sprinted across the plaza, up a set of white stairs, and chased her to an elevator capsule. Chaia backed up to the wall. Her face looked serious, but her eyes smiled.

“This isn’t a game.” Risa grabbed her shoulders. “You could be hurt.”

“Trust me. Your friend needs you.” Chaia raised a leg and pushed the holographic button for Tier 6 with her sneaker. “You’re going to argue with yourself until it’s too late.”

The door slid closed and bands of light flashed up the walls from floor to ceiling.

“I’m not going to be responsible for a kid getting hurt.”

Ping. A pneumatic hiss behind her preceded the dirt-metallic flavor of deep tunnel air flooding the elevator. The neutral expression on the child’s face frightened her more than trying to take on an armored cyborg with eight-inch claws.

Chaia planted her hands on Risa’s stomach, giving a light push towards the exit. Still, her expression remained eerie and neutral. “You won’t be.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #89 | (Neurona Prime Part 1)

Daughter of Mars #90 | (Neurona Prime Part 2)

Daughter of Mars #88 | (Fragments)

Tour | The Summer the World Ended

Greetings!

With the release date for The Summer the World Ended fast approaching (6/29/15), I wanted to invite book bloggers to sign up for a promotional tour being managed by Xpresso Book Tours in support of my second YA title. (At the moment they have it categorized as Sci Fi, but i’m not sure that fits. If anything, i’d consider it post-apocalyptic.)

http://xpressobooktours.com/2015/05/19/tour-sign-up-the-summer-the-world-ended-by-matthew-s-cox/

 

As far as Riley McCullough is concerned, her best friend getting ‘dragged’ off to Puerto Vallarta for the first two weeks of summer vacation was the end of the world―at least until the bombs fell.

Life in suburban New Jersey with her mother has been comfortable, not to mention boring, to an introverted fourteen year old. As if her friend’s surprise trip wasn’t bad enough, her expectations for the ‘best summer ever’ disintegrate when she gets sent across the country to stay with a father she hasn’t seen in six years. Adjusting to a tiny, desert town where everyone stares at them like they don’t belong proves difficult, and leaves her feeling more isolated than ever. To make matters worse, her secretive father won’t tell the truth about why he left―or what he’s hiding.

Her luck takes an unexpected turn for the better when she meets a boy who shares her interest in video games and contempt for small town boredom. In him, she finds a kindred spirit who might just make the middle of nowhere tolerable.

Happiness is short lived; fleeing nuclear Armageddon, she takes shelter with her dad in an underground bunker he’d spent years preparing. After fourteen days without sun, Riley must overcome the sorrow of losing everything to save the one person she cares about most.

 

Also, all are welcome to join me on Facebook on 6/29 from 4pm EST to 8pm EST to hang out, chat,  play games, contests, and win prizes in support of the book’s release.

https://www.facebook.com/events/800375976744247/

Related posts:


The Summer the World Ended

Caller 107 Blog Tour Signup

Division Zero FB Release Party

Daughter of Mars #90 | (Neurona Prime Part 2)

(Start from the beginning)

Four minutes later, the shuttle opened for boarding. By then, a group of about thirty or so people had gathered. Most appeared to be business travelers, each absorbed in vid calls over implanted phones or small earbuds tethered to their NetMinis, and shuffled along as a mass without awareness of their surroundings. One man in a suit so black it appeared to devour all light kept flinging his arms about as if throwing documents to people he spoke with over virtual reality. He’s going to hit someone. Risa guided Chaia to a spot at the end of the line entering the docking ramp. The girl clung to her left arm, eyes darting from person to person.

“Which one is it?” whispered Risa.

“What?” Chaia looked up at her.

“Who’s thinking of doing something bad to you?”

“No one. I don’t like crowds.” She stared into Risa’s eyes. Everyone’s talking about deals and credits and stuff. The girl nodded at one man. That guy is arguing with his wife, and the one next to him hates Mars and wants to go back to Earth. The angry man is grabbing video screens that aren’t really there.

Risa shook her head. When did I start assuming the worst of people?

Chaia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“That’s unnerving.”

“I know.” Chaia smiled for a second before her expression became neutral. “Sorry.”

The crowd filtered through the door, and eventually, Risa entered a medium-sized shuttle filled with the scent of disinfectant. Row upon row of bland grey seats soaked up the grumbling travelers. Risa thought about her ticket, triggering a link to open between her headware and her NetMini, and a golden highlight appeared around the seats she’d reserved. Once they shuffled out of the aisle at their assigned position, Chaia scooted to the window seat and her usual detached calm returned. I killed two men right in front of her and she barely batted an eyelash…

“Too many people makes for too much chance something will happen at random,” Chaia whispered. “I might not see it coming.”

Risa reclined her seat the two inches it could move, and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted to the memory of the angry mob that cornered her against the wall of NewsNet screens. “I’m not big on crowds either.”

“Why were those people angry with you?” Chaia’s too-blue eyes brimmed with innocence.

“It’s complicated.” Risa got angry thinking about how a population of sheep could blindly gobble up blatant lies. Anyone who saw the truth was singled out and shouted down. The NewsNet didn’t even put any real effort into their bullshit, and these people eat it up.

“Oh.” Chaia glanced out the window at the shuttleport tarmac. “To them it must be comfortable not having to worry about anything and do what they are told. Thought creates discomfort. It is like when my parents were alive. I did not have to worry about anything. All I had to do was play.”

What planet is this kid from?

“Earth,” said Chaia, as she turned back from the window. “And yes, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Risa opened one eye.

“Sometimes I do creepy things because it is fun.” Chaia grinned.

A small hand on the shoulder nudged Risa awake. She glanced left at Chaia, who pointed at an overhead screen, which displayed a message indicating they would be landing soon. The clock in her vision confirmed twenty-one minutes had passed. Risa stretched in her seat, which forced its way forward a few seconds later as the shuttle began its descent. The unexpected motion startled Risa the rest of the way awake. Chaia returned her attention to a simple side-scrolling video game on the complimentary datapad tethered to the seat in front of her. The whining drone of deploying landing gear rumbled through the cabin a few minutes later. Risa leapt to her feet the instant the automated RedLink landing announcement began, and pulled the girl along to the door before other passengers got more than one leg out of their seats.

She jogged down the exit ramp. Not going to be able to cut through the vents with a tween in tow. Maybe a PubTran will be faster, but The Spiral is a pain in the ass.

“What’s the spiral?” asked Chaia. “I went in the vents once. It’s scary there, but we can go if you want.”

“Once? A two-tier climb in a hurry is too much for a kid that didn’t grow up doing it. Do you always read people’s minds?” Risa grumbled.

Chaia gave her a flat look. “Only when I’m afraid of someone or I like them.”

“The Spiral is a corkscrew tunnel that lets cars drive between tiers. Always slow because of idiots. We’re better off skipping it and walking until we get to Tier 4.”

“Don’t the”―the girl grunted from her effort to keep up with Risa’s stride―“cars drive themselves?”

“No. This is Primus City. There’s more manual cars than PubTran ones. Most of the city is too narrow for vehicles at all. A few major roads. Whatever genius designed this place never predicted the way everything spilled into the streets. It’s like handing a two year old a datapad coloring app and telling them not to go outside the lines.”

Chaia smiled.

A brief walk brought them to a bank of elevators, which they rode from the surface to a huge public mall on Tier 2. Chaia held on to Risa’s arm with both hands as they hurried through the open space and down a street headed east. A quarter mile later, Risa headed for a large switchback staircase littered with semiconscious dosers and vagrants. Chaia’s grip tightened as she stepped among sprawled legs and snoring bodies.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” said Risa. “The Defense Force comes through here often enough to make the risk outweigh the reward.”

Chaia pulled her to a halt on a section of stairs between Tier 3 and 4 and stared at her eyes. The child’s initial expression of confusion faded to a dawning look of understanding. “Oh, cops.”

Risa blinked. “You can just ask.”

“Faaaster,” said Chaia in a singsong tone. She wore a neutral expression for ten seconds before she frowned at her sneakers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to sound stupid.”

“That’s not a stupid question. You’re new to Mars.” Risa jogged down the last two sections of stairs to Tier 4, and crossed a small concourse surrounded by numerous tourist-trap shops. So many vendors had crammed around the stairwell that their merchandise spread into the open square. “If you like someone, treat them like a person, not a holo-disk to be read whenever you need something.”

Risa headed to a dim street where two six-wheeled taxis forced their way through the pedestrians in an inexorable creep. The more distant driver yelled and whined at people to give him room.

“Okay.” Chaia trailed behind her for a few minutes. “What if we’re trying to be quiet?”

“I guess it’s not much different than an implanted comm.” Risa activated a wireless connection to her NetMini long enough to check the navigation app, and took the next right. “You know for a twelve year old, you’re awful trusting of someone you don’t really know. I’d never have followed me anywhere near the tech district of Primus City at your age.”

“You are trying to help a friend, which proves you are compassionate. You think I’m reckless for trusting you. That proves you are caring.” Chaia smiled for two seconds. “I also dreamed you would take me to a boy who I will fall in love with, so I know we will not get hurt today.”

“A boy huh?” A part of Risa wanted to grin at her and say cute things, but the weight of Pavo’s loss dragged the urge down to a disinterested mumble. “What’s he look like?”

Chaia crossed behind Risa to walk closer to the street. “Black hair and he’s pale like you.”

“You just described seventy-something percent of Mars.”

A young man sprinted out of a gap between stores with a small, black box in his hand. He brushed Risa’s arm as he passed, shoving people to the ground in an effort to force his way against the crowd. She glanced at the child, now on her right. If she didn’t move, he’d have run her down.

At the next corner, six MDF officers in full armor stood behind a portable barricade. Risa stopped. Chaia placed a hand on the small of her back.

“It’s okay. They won’t bother you.”

Risa clenched her jaw, took Chaia by the hand, and walked up to the line of people waiting by a narrow gap between the metal roadblock and the stone tunnel wall. One MDF woman, visor up to expose a paper-white face, ran a handheld scanner past everyone who went by. The voice in Risa’s mind screamed at her to run. With each person waved through with a dull bee-oop noise, her fear mounted. Chaia put on a pleasant smile, a look she must have honed in endless boardroom meetings, and waved at the other officers. The sight of a huge armored man holding a rifle as big as Risa’s leg finger waving to a young girl triggered an unexpected laugh. Risa covered her mouth, trying not to shake. That wasn’t funny… I’m nervous.

The heavyset man in front of Risa became flustered when the handheld scanner failed to pick up a NetMini or an ImDent chip. He shouted, “Is this necessary?” repeatedly, in various ways. Two of the other officers moved to approach. Risa identified three possible routes to run through. She grabbed Chaia by the shoulders, but the girl shook her head to the negative.

Before the situation escalated further, a bee-oop noise confirmed a read.

He’s not hiding anything. He’s just an asshole late for a meeting.

Risa jumped at the sound of a childlike voice in the back of her mind.

The MDF woman locked eyes with her at the checkpoint. The stare lingered for a few seconds before the cop offered a knowing nod. She swiped the scanner too far away to pick anything up, but it still made the noise.

“Keep yourself safe,” whispered the cop.

PVM? Risa strode past. “Thanks, I will.”

Her heart eased down to a normal rate. About fifty meters from the checkpoint, she leaned on the wall between a Cybertattoo parlor and a Nicohaler shop at the point where the passage expanded from a two-lane street to a rectangular commerce quad. Chaia stood close, arms at her sides and a placid look of innocence on her face. If not for the smudges of dirt on her peach-colored shirt, she’d have looked out of place.

The street swarmed with MDF in dull red armor. Risa counted seven teams of three going door to door among shops and restaurants in this pace. Sixteen young people in gang attire sat on the ground along the wall a short distance from a pile of pistols, knives, and two swords. From the look of it, they were being ‘interviewed’ rather than detained. Further down the street, an MDF minicar parked in the shadow of a dead overhead light. The driver side door hung open. A slim woman in a white jumpsuit lay across the seats with her butt in the air, trying to connect something under the dashboard while a man in a similar white outfit walked around the vehicle with a violet scanning light.

Risa gestured. “I guess that’s her car.”

Chaia glanced at it for a few seconds and looked back up at her. “What are they doing?”

“Looking for evidence.” Risa took a deep breath. Not her too. Was Pavo involved in something else? Is this shitstorm coming my way next? She narrowed her eyes. Yeah… It is.

Risa watched the police go in and out of alleys and businesses, feeling more like a spectator than a help. Whoever had abducted or killed Pavo’s duty partner had done so in the middle of a busy quad, in the closest an underground city had to ‘broad daylight.’ She studied every detail of the scene, using her cybereyes to zoom in on the gang punks, the cops, and the stores. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The faces of the MDF investigators mirrored her frustration.

“This is where Aurelia’s beacon sent me.” Risa’s stomach tightened. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do that the MDF can’t.”

She grabbed for her NetMini. Wonder if Tamashī found anything? Before she could open the holo-panel, Chaia set off at a brisk walk, heading along the near wall towards Aurelia’s patrol car. With all the police around, Risa couldn’t bring herself to yell, and pursued in silence. The girl stopped next to it. If the lights and MDF logo didn’t give it away as a police vehicle, the quad front wheels and armor plating would. Chaia approached alongside the nose end, by fat, knobby tires not quite up to her knee. The people in white gave her a cursory glance, but seemed to disregard her as a curious child.

Chaia leaned forward, placing her hands on the fender over the front wheels. The span of her splayed fingers neatly filled the angled strip between side and hood surface. Risa’s jog faded to a slow creep; she lowered the arm she’d been about to grab the girl with and offered an apologetic smile to the forensic team.

“Hey, kid,” said the man with the light bar. “Don’t touch the car. This is a crime scene.”

The woman popped up inside. “Crap. We’re going to need her prints now.”

Chaia closed her eyes. Within a second, her head leaned back and she swayed as if to faint.

His accusing glare softened. “Is she hurt?” The forensic man hung the light on his belt and took a step closer. “Kid? You okay? You need a medic?”

“I’m… We’ve been walking, I think she’s just light headed.” Risa crept up behind the girl, and grasped her shoulders. “Chaia, honey, are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Come on; don’t get in the Defense Force’s way.” Risa tugged her back.

Chaia rolled her head around until it sagged forward in an exhausted-looking slouch. She opened her eyes and let her arms drop to her sides, leaving two handprints in the dust. The girl kept a plain-faced gaze focused at the investigators as the woman rushed around the car and made her put her hands on a scanning datapad. A band of bright green light swept up and down the screen. Risa managed to contain her fear, standing stiff as a steel cutout until the device chirped.

The forensic tech pointed. “Don’t contaminate a crime scene again, kiddo. Next time, you might get in trouble.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Chaia backed up.

Risa shot an apologetic look at the police and dragged the girl off down the street. At a distance she assumed to be out of earshot, she spun Chaia around to face her.

“What was that?” Risa gathered the girl’s hands together and frowned at the layer of dirt on her palms. “Now your prints are on the car, and in their system.”

“Your friend went in there.” Chaia wriggled her right arm out of Risa’s grip and pointed at a storefront awash in cyan and azure.

Holographic letters formed from illusory plates of black silicon hovered over a long capsule-shaped window in a plastisteel wall. Violet and pink circuitry lines spelled “Neurona Prime” over the glass. Risa zoomed in on shelves of electronic components, primarily cyberspace decks and accessories, as well as gadgets, furniture, and Cyberspace-themed clothing.

“The Defense Force has been in and out of there. What makes you think that?”

Chaia made a face as if Risa asked ‘why do people breathe.’ “I’m psychic.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #89 | (Neurona Prime Part 1)

Daughter of Mars #87 | (Chaia)

Daughter of Mars #88 | (Fragments)

Daughter of Mars #89 | (Neurona Prime Part 1)

(Start at the beginning)

Risa slid her NetMini back onto her belt. Silence hung like a thick blanket over the room. If the people who’d grabbed Pavo found Aurelia, she might already be out of time to help. She glanced at Chaia, waiting with an expectant face by the door. The girl nodded. She thinks we should go, maybe it isn’t too late? Risa felt sick to her stomach. I’m not leaving a little girl alone in a Syndicate den. Psionic or not, it’s not a good idea. A growl warbled through her gut. What am I going to do? Bring her with me?

“Yes,” said Chaia. She shifted her gaze to Tamashī. “I’m not a WellTech doll. Risa did not buy me.”

“She’s so creepy.” Tamashī shivered. “And adorable! Ooh, I want one. Where’d you get her?”

Chaia stuck her thumbs in the waistband of her leggings, yelling, “I am not a WellTech doll.”

Risa rushed over and grabbed her arm before the girl could drop her pants to prove her anatomical correctness. “That’s not necessary. I… Uh. I gotta go.”

“Okay.” Tamashi shut off the video game and reached for her Nishihama Shinobi deck. Red Kanji lit up on the left side of the sleek, black slab when she plugged in. “I’ll keep poking that video.”

Chaia furrowed her brow. “I’m not a robot.”

“There better ways to go about convincing someone of that than flashing them.” Risa tugged on her arm.

The girl folded her arms, seeming far more upset at being mistaken for an android than at being kidnapped and threatened with a gun. “I’m not a machine. I’m real.”

Oh, Raziel help me. Risa put her hands on the girl’s shoulders, whispering, “Chaia, calm down. She didn’t mean it. Send her a telepathic message. Dolls can’t do that.”

Chaia’s glower softened to a plaintive expression. “People are scared of that. I don’t wanna get hit again.”

“Tamashī, she’s not a doll.” Risa bit her lip. “What the hell am I standing here arguing this for?”

“Be safe,” yelled Tamashī. “I’ll vid you if I find anything. I’m looking for your cop friend now.”

“Come on, kid.” Risa walked for the door.

“Okay, okay, I believe you.” Tamashī sighed.

Risa whirled, about to scream at the girl, but found her at the side of the bed jamming a handful of shumai dumplings in her mouth rather than having her pants around her knees. The breath she’d drew in to shout with slid through her teeth.

Chaia muttered something to Tamashī through a mouthful of dough before walking back to Risa with puffed hamster cheeks. The kid’s a precog. Maybe four seconds of delay will make a difference between living and dying?

The girl’s voice entered her mind. No. I was hungry. The tone dropped to an apologetic half-whisper. And I’m not a doll.

If not for the worry on her mind, Risa might have smiled at the silly face. With a sigh, she stomped down the hallway to the elevator. Chaia jogged to keep up, flashing a doughy grin once the capsule closed.

“We’re wasting time.” Risa glanced at the minutes ticking by in her field of vision.

“Wmf”―Chaia rolled her eyes―We have time.

Risa tapped her foot until the elevator stopped. Repetitious female moaning came from one of the white doors in the corridor between the elevator and the inner sanctum. At least she sounds happy. Chaia didn’t react to the noise. When they passed the ornate bronze barrier, Walsh startled and popped up.

“Risa? Where’d you come from?”

“Tamashī’s room.” She headed right for the burgundy curtains without waiting for a reply.

At the midpoint of the lobby, Chaia glanced at the man behind the front desk. “He thinks you’re a bitch.”

“I get that a lot.” Risa didn’t break stride until she spotted a PubTran kiosk a block from the Orbital’s front door. “Shit.”

Chaia stopped at her side. “You don’t know where she is.”

“No.” Risa grumbled. “I doubt she’s in Elysium. We might as well go to the shuttleport so we’re ready when Tamashī calls.”

“Okay.” Chaia closed her eyes.

Risa dialed up a ride on the waist-high obelisk-shaped terminal, and paced back and forth while waiting. Two minutes and six seconds after she requested a taxi, a tiny, boxy car squealed to a halt by the pedestal and opened its side door.

“Thank you for choosing PubTran Corporation for your transportation needs. Your car has arrived.”

“Thanks, I wouldn’t have noticed it pull up if you didn’t say anything.” She got in, but the child remained motionless.

“Chaia, the car’s here.”

The girl ignored her.

“Ugh, what is wrong with you?” Risa crawled out and tugged on the kid’s arm, but she swayed as if unconscious on her feet. “Now what?”

After carrying the girl to the car and pulling the door closed, Risa waved her NetMini over the console. “Inter-city shuttle terminal please.”

“Your trip cost is twenty six credits. Risk of an unscheduled violence event at location”―the pitch of the voice changed for one word―“shuttleport is minimal. Please sit back and enjoy your ride.”

Risa rested her elbow on the sidewall, propping her head in one hand while staring at the swaying, small body in the facing seat. Patches of light from outside signs created squares of pink, orange, and green, that slid through the car. The girl wobbled to the side whenever the taxi swerved to avoid a pedestrian or aggressive advert bot. Chaia flew into the wall when the car pulled a hard right, and sprawled onto the floor.

“Ow.” She left her eyes shut, and reached up to grab her face.

Risa reached down, got her hands under the girl’s arms, and pulled her up in the seat next to her. “Was that some psionic thing you were doing?”

“I was trying to get a vision. I didn’t see much but tunnels with stores. It’s almost useless for me to try to see someone I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Tunnels… an underground city. That narrows it down to about six.” Risa pounded a fist on the seat. “Arcadia and Elysium have underground sections too.”

“Sorry.” Chaia looked downcast.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just a kid.” Risa took her hand. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I saw a car with MDF on the door in grey letters.”

Risa drummed her fingers on the hard plastic bench. “It’s flimsy, but if you saw her car that means she’s still in Primus.”

Chaia continued to sulk.

Risa patted her on the back. “Thank you for trying.”

The girl looked up. Her sullen expression had faded, but she hadn’t decided to smile either. The PubTran car drove around in a wide arc, using a courtyard full of people in front of the shuttle port as a U-turn space. A few beggars dove for cover, exaggerating the danger from the creeping, tiny car.

Within seconds of entering the terminal, Risa’s NetMini rang. A few flicks of the eye answered in wireless mode, presenting her with a virtual holo-panel bearing an image of Tamashī’s avatar―a grinning cat-eared ninja girl.

“I think she’s in Primus. Her implant went off signal thirty-two minutes ago on Tier 4, Sector 58.”

“I didn’t think she had an implant.” Risa grabbed Chaia’s hand and walked towards a row of large, boxy machines aglow with holo-terminals. “You were right, she’s in Primus.”

“All MDF personnel have bio-monitor implants and tracking devices. Even if she was dead it would be transmitting an ‘oh shit’ signal. Wherever she is, I’m betting they have a jammer set up.”

“They didn’t go out of range? There’s no signal deep below.” Risa stopped at a Vendomat and purchased two seats on an Elysium-Primus flight.

“If that was true, the signal would’ve registered going down. It just stopped on Tier 4.” Tamashi whined. “I gotta go. Walshie wants me to go steal some pixels.”

“Walshie?” Risa chuckled, leading the girl by the hand on the way to the boarding area. “I’d love to see his face if you called him that. We’re about to get on a shuttle now. Let me know if you find anything else. Damn… I hope we have enough time.”

The window with Tamashī’s neko-chan persona vanished as the call ended.

“Think we’ll make it in time?” Risa stopped by a row of seats in the waiting area, not bothering to use them.

Chaia shrugged. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t see the future unless something’s gonna happen to me or someone I really, really like.”

“Oh.” Risa glanced off to the side. “Sorry about your father.”

A little red formed around the girl’s eyes as she took Risa’s hand and stared at her for a long, silent minute. “I’m sorry about your father.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #87 | (Chaia)

Daughter of Mars #88 | (Fragments)

Daughter of Mars #74 (Blind Wish part 4)

Daughter of Mars #88 | (Fragments)

(start from the beginning)

Laughter and conversation faded from all nine men lingering by the Orbital Hotel as Risa stepped into the amethyst glow of the holographic spaceship over the door. Chaia held her head high, like a smaller version of a high-society woman on her way to a gala. None of the men moved more than necessary to keep a stare pinned on Risa as she walked past them. At least going in the front door spared her having to see the hallway of plain, white doors where the Syndicate kept their working girls. On the way into the lobby, she cast a glance to her right at a shaded alcove and a pair of ‘employee only’ doors, hoping Raziel had made good on his promise to free the women held against their will.

The unlikely duo spread a swath of silence as they passed through the large atrium. Her friend behind the front desk didn’t bother chasing this time, instead firing off an annoyed squint as she headed for the corridor to the rear sanctuary where she expected to find Walsh. Chaia gazed about in awe at the raised ceiling decorated with imitation sculpted tin, gold walls with red felt, and opulent cushioned seats ringing faux marble columns.

Risa kept a brisk stride through the L shaped corridor, flinging burgundy curtains out of her way as she stormed into the inner sanctum. Four Syndicate suits by the bar on the left glanced up from what they were doing. Credit counters practically cycled in their eyes at the sight of the girl. Risa didn’t even want to think how much some pig off world with a thing for twelve-year-olds would pay for a child this ‘perfect’ looking. She flexed her fingers, making a deal with herself not to feel any guilt if she had to kill anyone in here.

Walsh sat as usual behind his decorative barrier, and perked up at their approach. His neck seemed to stretch as he regarded Chaia, an eager glance flicking from the girl to Risa.

Chaia glared at him.

“Who is this?” The phlegmatic flutter in his voice had weakened since the last time she’d been here. Mint-scented vapor trailed through his teeth, riding out the breath of a lingering ‘s.’

Risa studied the intricate pattern cut in bronze, not looking straight at him. “Walsh. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to convince myself I’m not an assassin.” A patch of violet light glinted from the grating as her gaze flicked to lock with his. “If any of your people even think about touching this girl, they, you, and everyone in this building in a black suit is going to find out how much my attitude has changed.”

Walsh leaned back, puffing his chest and gesturing to the side. “Miss Black, only someone with a death wish would dare threaten the Syndicate.”

She didn’t flinch; her voice emerged slow and cold. “You’re right. I’m also being literal.” Risa leaned closer to the barrier. “I meant think it. We’ll know. She’s a telepath.”

The four men at the bar whipped around, reacting as if the beautiful little girl had turned into a stripping grandmother.

Walsh’s fluffed up presence deflated. He shook his head, raising his hands. “Wait… You know we don’t deal with the ‘gifted’ ones. Too dangerous.”

Chaia tilted her head to the right, still glaring at Walsh, eyes wide, unblinking. “The kind of men who you’d sell me to have secrets. They don’t want their dirty minds peeled open. They don’t like it when they find themselves lifting a gun to their own head and can’t stop. They don’t like falling to the floor and spending their last few seconds of life watching a puddle of blood grow away from their face.”

Walsh broke out in a cold sweat. His jowls fluttered.

“You want to look away from me now, but you can’t.” Chaia straightened her head. “Can you? You’re not dirty like those men. You see me as money, but that’s just as bad.”

“Go,” said Walsh, pointing. “Go visit your friend and take this… precious angel with you.”

Chaia kept staring at him. A thread of drool slipped out of the corner of Walsh’s mouth, slithered over his chin, and dangled. Seconds passed before it broke and fell onto a port-wine colored silk shirt.

The girl pivoted a quarter turn to her right, and lifted her gaze to Risa. Walsh’s eyes fluttered and glazed over. Risa drifted to the hallway, eyeing Walsh, who remained slumped and motionless. Once the girl had advanced far enough to hide her face from the portly underboss, she smiled. Risa walked backwards for two steps before facing forward and walking down a corridor lined with small Greek nudes set in alcoves between doors. Chaia disregarded the two-foot tall statues, following her to a small elevator at the end, where she stood dutifully at her side, hands clasped in front of her.

“Can you really do that to people?” Risa hesitated before making eye contact with the girl’s reflection in the silver cylinder.

“No. I’m not a suggestive. I can’t make someone shoot themselves.” She flashed a cat-that-got-the-canary expression. “But I did make him forget you threatened him.”

Risa hit the button to go four floors down. Cool air blew up from vents around the floor’s edge as a weak hissing noise permeated the capsule. “That might not have been a good idea.”

“You didn’t really want to kill everyone here,” said Chaia.

Beep.

The elevator rotated, lining up the exit with the hallway to Tamashī’s room. Risa led the way down the narrow passage and stopped at the now-familiar door. Tiny cybernetic motors whirred as the ebon skeleton straightened in his seat. Risa braced for a scream, but Chaia waved at him.

“Hi.” She glanced at Risa. “He thinks you’re pretty and I’m too young to be here.”

The cyborg glanced around as if interested in anything but Risa.

“You shouldn’t.” Risa almost smiled at him before knocking.

“Took you long enough,” yelled a sugared-up Tamashī through the door.

Risa jabbed a finger at the panel and walked in once the door opened. The little Japanese woman sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, surrounded by a cluster of open food cartons. Her white kimono-inspired bathrobe glowed blue, green, and violet in castoff light from a paused holographic dogfight that consumed the entire right wall. Risa’s head passed through a three-foot virtual planet as she made her way to the side of the bed. Tamashī slurped a chopstick load of udon noodles and mushrooms through a grin.

“Mmm!” The young woman pointed at nothing obvious.

“What’s so important you told me I had to be here in person?” Risa folded her arms. “You know every time I come here I’m that much closer to killing someone.”

Tamashī’s eyes widened. “Walsh didn’t ask you to do another hit did he?”

“No.”

Chaia wandered through the time-stopped space battle, tracing her fingers through the intangible ships. Blinking red lights in the soles of her shoes shimmered on the wall.

“Who’s that?” asked Tamashī.

“Someone I was supposed to meet today, apparently.” Risa gave up on maintaining a hard exterior and fell to sit on the edge of the bed. “What did you find?”

Tamashī chewed in slow, deliberate gestures, staring at the girl. “She’s kinda eerie-cute. Hair’s a little too blonde, eyes a little too blue. Like one of those kids from a horror vid.”

“That smells good.” Chaia approached the foot of the bed, leaning on tiptoe to check out the food.

“Please.” Risa put a hand on Tamashī’s knee. “Now’s really not a good time to be dramatic.”

“Oh thbpbpbpt.” Tamashī overacted a pout. “I tracked the source of your birthday present. It routed through a dead line with no official registration.” She flared her eyebrows and reduced her voice to a spooky whisper. “Dark fiber.”

Risa breathed in and out, trying to project the sense of being unimpressed as much as a flat stare could project. “Companies run dark fiber all the time. It’s not paranormal; it just means it’s a dedicated line off MarsNet. Point-to-point private connection.”

“Sorry.” Tamashi’s demeanor seemed to gain twenty years. Her posture went from thirteen to thirty-five. “I was just trying to cheer you up. Probably stupid of me. The connection lit up a strand with no official registration. I lifted a fragment of a packet header out of an ingress buffer deep in the guts of Tertia.”

“Is that like a giant robot or something?” asked Chaia.

Risa shot a suspicious glance at Tamashī. “No, it’s the third city the UCF tried to colonize. Way in the northeast. Too far away to support. It would be lawless except for there being nothing there worth taking.”

“I know.” Tamashī popped a hunk of egg sushi into her mouth and chewed while holding a finger up. “Doesn’t make sense, but the packet header had a source IPv12. I cross checked it for hours and hours.” The little woman swayed back and forth, head leaned back. “And hours and hours and hour―”

“I get the point.” Risa pulled her forward by the arms.

This girl is weird, said Chaia’s voice in Risa’s mind. I’m not weird.

Tamashī bent forward, grasping her crossed shins. “The point is―”

Risa glanced down at her lap. “Oh, good. I was wondering.”

“The point is that I was able to match that address to a lot of high-level PVM traffic, from a node tagged ‘Araphel.’”

“Never heard of it.” Risa’s heart sank. That’s it? She found who sent me a doll. She slid her hands up over her face, shrouding her nose and mouth in an effort to hold back tears.

“It’s a fake place. I did some looking. ‘Araphel’ is a name from ancient mysticism for the ‘first heaven’, the one closest to Earth.”

Risa slouched forward. Someone who knows about Raziel is messing with me. “Did you find anything else? The way you sounded, I thought you’d found the people who killed Pavo.”

“Can I use your bathroom? Thanks.” Chaia scurried to the tiny space by the door.

Tamashī blinked. “She didn’t wait for… Oh, never mind. Well, there is something about Pavo.”

“Tamashī, will you please stop teasing me. This isn’t funny or cute.” She brushed tears off her cheeks.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up. It might be nothing, but I was running that helmet-cam video through an analyzer trying to find a pattern match for the surroundings and find out where it happened.”

Risa shuddered. “And?”

“Well, it’s a generic plastisteel hallway with grime everywhere. The only unusual thing about it is how few gangers or vagrants there are―none. I got suspicious, so I checked the Karsson-Neimand values and it gave me a yellow exclamation triangle.”

Risa stared for a moment. “What the hell does that―”

Her NetMini erupted with a loud klaxon noise.

“That sounds important.” Tamashī crammed a handful of edamame into her mouth.

Risa slipped the device from her belt, held it up, and jabbed the answer button. “What.”

Officer Aurelia Imari’s bust appeared hovering in midair. “Risa, this is an automatic message I recorded in case something happened. I think they’re following me. If you are listening to this, the people who killed Pavo got me. I’ve set my ‘mini to require a check in every two hours or it will send you this message. Help.”

The holographic head vanished.

“Maybe she forgot?” Tamashī shrugged.

Risa tilted the NetMini side to side, finding no answers in its gloss black surface.

“She didn’t,” yelled Chaia from the bathroom. After the sound of a flush, she walked out. “We should go.”

“What did you see?” Risa stood.

“I did not dream.” Chaia tilted her head forward, earnest eyebrows up. “I have a bad feeling. I think someone is hurting her.”

Related posts:


Daughter of Mars #87 | (Chaia)

Daughter of Mars #86 | (Death Row)

Daughter of Mars #79 | (A Better Life Part 1)

Goodreads Giveaway | Prophet of the Badlands

 

I’ve posted a giveaway on Goodreads for paperback copies of Prophet of the Badlands! Two winners will each receive a signed copy. The Giveaway will open for entries at midnight on Wednesday, May 20 and end at midnight on Wednesday, June 3. 

Winners will be chosen at random by Goodreads when the giveaway ends.

 

Goodreads Book Giveaway


Prophet of the Badlands
by Matthew S. Cox

Giveaway ends June 03, 2015.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter to Win

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Goodreads Giveaway | Division Zero: Thrall

Book Release | Prophet of the Badlands

Caller 107 Giveaway / Contest

Prophet of the Badlands Chapter One

Chapter One

Premonitions

Pure and cool, a breeze filtered through a curtain of lustrous ivy, casting a fluctuating camouflage of sunlight and shadow on the face of a young girl. Althea crouched amid the dancing lights, motionless against a crumbling wall of mismatched stone and rusting metal parts. The raven calls of bickering old men fluttered away into the sky from the other side. The tribal elders could not agree on which direction to send the Seekers. She smiled to herself. That they still talked about it meant they had not yet discovered her missing from the Cha’dom.

Her hands clutched the dirt as she stalked, low to the ground, toward the end of the hanging greenery, quieter than the faint hiss of wind through the vines. At the edge of the wall, she crouched and waited for the path ahead to clear of villagers.

When opportunity came, she burst through the strands of green, carried on sinewy legs hardened by many hours spent running. Tattered leather strips that served as a skirt trailed behind as she careened down a curving walkway, under the front end of an ancient car sticking out from the second story of the spearmaker’s home. One wheel, long devoid of rubber, intoned the song of rust to the wind as it spun in the moving air. At the end of the row of scrap metal dwellings, the collage of dead vehicles, the village wall, offered a gap through which only a child could fit.

She hooked her hands and toes here and there, a spider monkey climbing through the lattice of metal bars, struts, and old machines. Her breaths came rapid with fear and anticipation as she worked her way through the vertical maze toward a beam of daylight far above. At the midway point, she slid through the long absent door of an old crushed car, scooting across the crumbling upholstery to emerge through the shattered rear window. Althea stood and crept to the edge of the trunk, cringing as the metal beast creaked. A short jump sent her lithe figure slipping higher into the tangle, legs flailing for purchase as she grabbed a bit of rebar; maroon footprints in dust the only trace of her passage over the car.

Minutes later, she propped herself against metal tubes and leaned her face through a round opening. After a glance outside to be certain it was clear, she grabbed an overhead bar and pulled herself up until she could slide her legs through. She sat on the edge of the hole for an instant before sliding down corrugated plates into the thick growth at the base.

The plants, laden with the dew of morning, tickled her with cold, wet fingers as she crawled toward the sound of the boys preparing for their foray into the Lost Place. Her toes dug into the cool dirt as she stretched forward, peeking through a veil of tousled flaxen hair around the wall. A dozen Seekers, skin the color of sienna, gathered in a circle of powerful bodies under the shade of the Spirit-Tree. Their raven hair all cut short, save for Palik, who fancied himself a half-chamán and wore it down to his belt, loaded with baubles.

Den was among them; she watched the lean contours of his muscles shift as he helped the older seekers gather supplies. The sight of the only boy in the entire tribe who was not terrified of her made her smile, but delight faded as a sense of worry entered her mind. The past night’s sleep had left her with a foreboding feeling something bad would happen to him today.

The elders of this place had been kinder than most villages that found her. It had taken a mere two months before they trusted her promise she would not try to run away. Only two months of pleas before they no longer kept her in the cage. Den believed her; as the son of Braga, the chief, he had demanded her release. She was not permitted to leave the Cha’dom, much less allowed out of the village. The chamán expected her to assist with the rituals, even if she didn’t understand them. To earn their trust, she did. Althea feared the cage more than the bizarre wild-eyed man with a dead wolf skin upon his head and paint upon his face. She had done as he told her to do, holding the bowls and spreading the powders, even swallowing the odd plants that made her feel funny and see strange things.

Fear knotted her gut at the thought of running outside, even though she had no desire to flee. The elders would be furious, but she had to warn Den no matter the consequence. With any luck, the sleep she had given the chamán would still be upon him when she returned.

Althea picked at her frayed leather skirt while she watched the Seekers prepare, thinking to find some more material to add. She made it around the time she turned ten. Collected scraps of old belts, shoelaces, and leather armor had become a tough garment. Most tribal Scrags wore only what they made or found on their own, or what a courting seeker gifted to them. She was not content to wait for the latter. Roughly two years later, the steady process of repairing and adding to it had created a tangle of tatters down to her knees. It served its purpose well, though the dingy grey chest-cloth Den had given her would not last as long. Althea squirmed, still unaccustomed to the feeling of wearing something like that. Wrapped about beneath her arms, it left her shoulders and stomach bare and seemed utterly without purpose.

She kept the itchy before-time scrap only because he had given it to her.

The boys marched off in a line, following a rocky trail down out of the hills. Althea looked between the wall and the hunting party with a desperate grimace. If they caught her, the elders would think it an escape attempt and put her back in the cage. If she did not go, Den would have no warning of danger, and she feared he would die.

It was not much of a choice.

As soon as they were out of sight, she closed her eyes for the span of a breath and dashed from her hiding place. The clearing between the wall and the forest blurred as she sprinted, tall weeds smacked her shins, fingers clawed through the tall grass. At the woods’ edge, she leapt into the first bits of underbrush and clamped onto the nearest tree. Her dirt-smeared figure blended against the coarse, wet bark scratching at her skin. She stood on her toes, frozen for almost a minute, listening for any trace of danger.

Althea knew motion attracted eyes.

No shouts arose from behind, no one came running, and the hunting party did not react. Her keen ears found only the soft hiss of the wind in the branches. She let out a gasp of relief, pulled her hair out of her face, and followed the rustles and snaps drifting into the forest.

She stepped around rocks and roots, brushing vines aside, walking as fast as she could without creating noise. The hunters had trained senses, but she was far quieter than the boars they preyed upon. Moving from tree to tree in a series of sprints, crawls, and leaps, she soon got within sight of them.

A birdcall echoed as one of them made a signal, gathering the spread-out group close. The boys collected around something on the ground. The eldest, Nalu, crouched and stuck a large knife into the dirt, picking at his beard while the scent of something dead teased at her nose. Trying to get a look at what they found, she circled through the dense brush. She drew closer, crawling into a thick patch of fern for cover. Sitting back on her heels, she craned her neck to get a better view. The cause of their delay, a huge dead boar, had been torn open from neck to groin. Her eyes widened at the sight as she tried to imagine what could have done such a thing.

Jake, the youngest of the group, backed away from the mangled beast. Scrawny and small, he was about the same age as Althea and clad in a pair of boar-hide shorts he had made after his first hunting trip. Pants had let him feel as though he left his boyhood behind and had become a man; he had spent several days showing them off to everyone. Unlike her, he had taken the time to smudge the dirt on his cheeks into something resembling war paint.

He leaned on his wooden spear, looking anywhere but at the pig. She sensed fear on him the way incense exuded smoke. As his gaze swept across the trees, he gasped and pointed right at her. Althea stiffened as they all turned and stared at her one by one. Den smirked and waved her over. With a guilty face, she rose to her feet and trudged out into the open.

“You have the sight of a hunter already.” She smiled at Jake.

“Did you forget your eyes make light like the stars and your skin is pale?” Den tried not to laugh. “Why did you follow?” He jogged over and put his hands on her shoulders. “Girls should stay safe at home. The elders will think you are running away.”

Althea glanced at his hand, dark against her skin. “The Alamos tribe has more girl seekers than boys.” She folded her arms in defiance. “Their boys are lazy.”

The other six fixed her with uneasy stares. Jake took a step back with his spear all but pointed at her. Nalu stood, turning away from the dead pig, and shook his head. Like Althea, he wore a garment resembling a skirt made from leather strips, only his had a rectangular orange metal plate hanging in the center with strange marks on it. She had seen similar things attached to old cars, and thought it silly to use such a thing for armor. They did not protect the cars at all. He pulled his machete out of the ground and approached.

Den poked her in the belly. “You can’t be a Seeker. You won’t kill anything. You don’t have trouble eating the boar, but you refuse to kill one.”

She thrust her lower lip out, unable to argue his truth.

Nalu’s face grew stern. “It is not that you are a girl. You are the Prophet.” He frowned. “You promised you would not flee.”

Althea clung to Den after scooting behind him. “I am not fleeing. I came to warn you.”

Den smiled at her touch, but the others looked fearful. “Warn us of what?”

“I had a bad feeling.” She tried to touch the blue light on his back cast off by her eyes. “I dreamed you would be hurt today.”

“You should go back.” Jake’s voice quivered as he gestured at Den. “Glow-eye says you will die.”

Den puffed his chest up and hefted his metal spear. “I’m not scared.”

Althea looked down at his one large boot and one torn shoe, fruits of a previous trip into the Lost Place. “I go with you.” She looked up, past the agate arrowhead hanging around his neck, into the eyes of a man staring out from the face of a boy. “Please trust me.”

Jake shook his head. “Glow-eye will bring bad luck.”

The other hunters shifted with unease.

The wind picked up; scraggly blonde hair tickled the center of Althea’s back and strands of leather caressed her legs. Nalu looked to the whispering treetops and sniffed.

“Something comes.” He dropped into a fighting stance with his machete held high.

Den dragged Althea by her arm to a tree. “Up. Animals approach.”

He grabbed her about the waist and lifted. She took hold of a branch and stepped on his shoulder. No sooner was her weight in the tree than grey furry streaks darted through the group and circled around. The creatures stood in a line, staring the humans down with intelligence beyond what one would expect from such animals.

Five canines with bright yellow eyes and jagged, mismatched teeth protruding sideways from their snouts snarled in unison. The largest, as tall as Nalu’s chest, sniffed at the air and stared at Jake. It seemed to tell the others he was the weakest of their prey. Althea’s gaze jumped around as she sensed emotions; Nalu radiated annoyance, Den confidence, and Jake terror. The others were also frightened, but not to the same degree. As the alpha tossed his nose in Jake’s direction, the pack ran at him.

Nalu grabbed the boy by the shoulder and hauled him back, telling the others to circle around. Den remained close to the tree to protect her. Happiness at his concern faded when she felt a wave of embarrassment surround Jake and become rage. He did not want the others to think of him as a little frightened boy, even if he was only eleven.

She bounced to her feet on the branch. “Jake, no!”

Spear held high, he leapt out from behind Nalu and went for one of the creatures with a high-pitched cry.

The bonedog ducked the attack, nipping at the spear and backpedaling to lure him out. Jake followed with a bloodthirsty grin, mistaking the trap for the dog being frightened of him. Two distracted Nalu with a flash of snapping teeth and drool while the last one crept around, taking advantage of the boy’s blind focus. Jake screamed as teeth sank into his calf and the animal wrenched him to the ground on his chest with a twist. Nalu turned at the noise and sliced at the ambusher, exposing himself to the two distractors.

The dog with a mouthful of Jake’s shin leapt away from the machete strike, baring bloody teeth with an angry glare. Now it protected its meal.

“Bonedogs. They like ta rip off arms or legs and run away with ‘em.” Den looked up, amused at her lack of squeamishness.

“I know. I have seen them before.” She pointed past him, yelling. “Den! Look―”

He turned as the Alpha pounced, managing to wedge his spear handle sideways into the beast’s mouth before it got him by the throat. The weight and momentum of the animal knocked him flat on his back. The wind flew out of him as he hit the ground. With one twist of its great neck, the enormous dog thrashed the spear out of his grip and tossed it to the side. When its head swung back to lock eyes with him, she had the sense it grinned at him.

“Nalu,” Althea screamed. “Help!”

The eldest hunter wrestled with another dog in an effort to keep it off Jake. The boy had seized with fear. He did not cry, but was defenseless. The others traded superficial wounds with the rest of the pack in a roving skirmish through the trees. Nalu could not do anything for Den in time to matter.

She looked down as the alpha lunged at Den’s face. He grabbed it by its cheek fur and held on. Teeth snapped at his nose and drool sprayed in his face as its effort to overpower him pushed him along the ground. It changed tactics, twisting to bite him on the forearm. Den grunted, kicking at the dog’s underside, not that it appeared to notice.

“No!” Althea slid from the branch, landing on all fours like a wildcat.

She ran to Den’s spear, urged into a panic at the sound of bones splintering behind her. With a feeble attempt at a roar that came out as a wail, she lowered the point and ran at the giant canine. Desperation flared in her face; her body empowered by unconscious command. The spear hit it in the side, its bloodlust having distracted it from her approach. The shock of impact knocked her grip loose; her hands slid over the leather cording on the metal bar. The dog wheezed and released the arm, stumbling sideways several feet before it collapsed on its side, emitting a belabored moan.

The other four dogs abandoned their prey and converged on her, enraged at the death of the alpha. She turned to face them, standing over Den with the spear aimed forward. His left hand circled her ankle, sliding up, squeezing her calf.

“Run,” he wheezed.

Her determination to protect him emerged into the world as a telempathic emanation of fear. The perpetual azure glow grew brighter as her gaze jumped at random from one monster to the next, daring them to attack.

Stalled in their tracks, the animals hesitated for a moment before their tails swung down through their legs and they backed away with hesitant growls. Althea took a step at them, thrusting the spear and wanting them to feel frightened of her. The pack turned as one and vanished, smears of grey into the woods.

The hunting party, except for Den, gawked at her in silence. Nalu did not seem to know what to make of this, while the younger ones looked at her as though she had become a dangerous entity, not some child to be protected or a precious commodity to be guarded.

The Prophet had killed.

The Awakened Series

If you enjoyed reading, you can find the rest on Amazon for less than a cup of fancy barista coffee

 

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Prophet of the Badlands | Chapter 1 – Premonitions

Book Release | Prophet of the Badlands

Prophet of the Badlands

Daughter of Mars #87 | (Chaia)

(Start from the beginning)

A short shuttle flight from Primus to Elysium City seemed to drag on for hours. Risa’s leg refused to stop tapping as she glared out the window at the passing terrain. The ride she’d taken countless times before never felt as long as it did at that moment. Dammit, Tamashī. You couldn’t tell me what you wanted? What did she find out about Pavo? Does she know who I need to kill? She curled up in her seat, knees to chin. Maybe he survived? Her body trembled as she fought back the urge to sob. Don’t do that to yourself. What stage of grief is denial?

“What’s the bastard’s name, sweetie?” An old man leaned out of his aisle seat, offering a yellow-toothed smile. “A girl as pretty as you only makes that face when someone’s been a bastard.”

She let her legs down. He’s an old man. Don’t kill him. “Killed in the war.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The man shook his head at the floor, sat still for a moment, and shuffled across the aisle. He eased himself into the seat next to her. “Been nine years now for me since my wife passed. I’d tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t.”

Gee, thanks. Risa suppressed a cringe at the suffocating cloud of cologne.

“Jeanne used to wake up every day at five in the morning, even after we retired. She had her routine, ya see. Kept her sane. Coffee, oatmeal, check messages from the kids. Every day.” He smiled at the ceiling. “Bet’cha she’s still up there, checkin’ her email.”

Risa’s head thudded against the cushion. Shoot me now. “That’s nice.”

“My oldest, Chris… He went an’ moved down Earth ways. Got himself a nice little life there. Ain’t found a girl yet, but he’s a big shot with his company. Designs hovercars.” The old man flashed a broad grin. “Too busy for me. I prefer it up here.”

She closed her eyes, using murmurs and nods to feign attention through the next fourteen minutes of one-sided conversation about the man’s too-good-to-be true son.

“We are now arriving in Elysium City. Please wait until the shuttle has come to a complete stop before leaving your seats. Any personal carry-on weapons must be set in the ‘safe’ position while on board or in the secure areas of the shuttle terminal. Violators are subject to fine and permanent forfeiture of their weapons.”

“Oops. Best get back to ma seat.” The old man chuckled, patted her on the knee, and got up.

Thank you.

Her trip through the boarding ramp and shuttle terminal passed in a blur. Once again in charge of her own locomotion, she didn’t feel time dragging as much. The Orbital Hotel was far enough from the shuttleport to make walking annoying, but also close enough to make her not want to spend credits on a PubTran. Risa decided to work off some excess energy and walk. Maybe I’ll get mugged. I could use some practice.

An altercation would delay learning what Tamashī had been so excited to talk about, so she kept her head up and aimed a ‘don’t mess with me’ gaze at the world. A scattering of gang punks glanced her way here and there from the shadows. Most regarded her with disinterest, one or two nodded out of respect, and a few backed away. Risa paid the most attention to the ones who seemed afraid. They were the idiots who’d try something.

She hooked a right down an alley to avoid a cluster of MDF officers gathered around the scene of a three-car collision. The boxy little vehicles seemed none the worse for wear, but the pedestrian sandwiched between them hadn’t been so lucky. Poor bastard. When she’d gone about thirty yards deep in the alley, murmured voices emanated from a leftward offshoot. She paid them little mind until a woman’s voice shouted, “Risa Black.”

She froze in mid-step and snapped her glare to the left.

Two men in matching black suits stood on either side of a muscular woman in a long brick-red coat. She looked Marsborn, and had her hair in a spiky pixie cut. As calm as a day at the beach, the same blonde-bobbed tween girl from the tram stood in front of the woman with her arms behind her back. Her skin was pale, but had enough of a Caucasian tint to her skin to give her away as a probable Earthling. More dirt smeared her clingy peach-colored shirt than before. The woman pushed a pistol against the side of the girl’s head, forcing her to lean to one side.

The men could’ve been brothers, and had the same model of orange-glowing lens for a right eye. Both pulled their coat to the side at the same time, showing off a compact rifle on a sling. Thin wires ran from the guns to a metal plate extending rearward from their optics, ‘cheapware’ targeting systems. Specs appeared by virtue of her own electronic eyes, identifying the weapons as Class 4 ballistic rifles loaded with standard 10mm ammunition. The slugs had enough energy to break bones through her flexible armor, but couldn’t pierce it.

“Our employer would like to have a word with you,” said the woman. “You will come with us if you want this street rat to see tomorrow. I know you’re twitched to the nines. Your wires ain’t as fast as my trigger.”

“I don’t really have time for you idiots right now.” She sighed at the girl. That kid is creepy. “You think threatening some random Scrap is going to bother me?”

The man on the left growled. “We ain’t idiots.”

“Turn away and get on your knees,” said the woman. “Or you’ll have this little bitch on your conscience.”

A childlike voice flooded Risa’s mind. I know you care. If you can handle these men, I’ll keep the woman busy.

Shock sapped the confidence from her stare. What the…

I’m psionic. The girl’s too-blue eyes widened. Don’t be scared. You’re going to win.

“You people aren’t big on research, are you?” Risa shook off her unease. “First, what makes you think I give a Cydonian crab’s left testicle what you do to a street rat, and second, the only reason you three Dreks are still alive is I’ve got somewhere to be. Piss off.” Risa locked eyes with the kid as she feigned turning away. If you’re gonna do something kid, do it now.

The child closed her eyes and a look of concentration settled on her face. A second later, her head straightened as the gun ceased pressing against her. The woman blinked, lifting her other hand to her forehead.

Speedware dragged the world to a standstill. Risa sprang forward, cross-drawing her pistols. The young girl’s bob cut flared as she whirled in a slow-motion spin. The woman’s expression went from dazed, to murderous, to disoriented when the child made eye contact with her. A pair of independent targeting reticles appeared in Risa’s vision as her eyes presented aim points for each handgun. Having her electronics back brought on a wave of confidence.

She fired both guns at the same time. Two green pulses streaked through each man’s chest, and left holes rimmed with orange light in the metal wall of the building behind them. Three more shots left ash-lined channels through their skulls before they could raise their weapons.

Risa halted a few feet away. Bloody steam erupted from the standing dead men as time returned to normal. The woman muttered and swooned as if in the midst of a spell of vertigo.

The girl continued to focus on the woman. Despite having her hands tied behind her back, the waif took on an aggressive pose. The disoriented thug tried to grab the kid, but she swiped twice through empty space several feet to the right.

“W-what are you?” asked the woman. “You’re not real.”

“I’m not where you think I am.” A taunting sing-song tone in the child’s voice brought rage to the woman’s face. “Maybe I’m behind you?”

“Freak!”

The child evaded another grab, and giggled.

Risa raised one pistol. “Two seconds. Who do you work for?”

“Lars Staanek,” said the girl.

“God damned psio!” The woman’s eyes went wild with panic.

Risa kicked on her speedware and tossed her gun into the air. Claws sprang from the tips of her fingers in mid-swing, raking at the woman’s rising weapon, splitting it in five pieces. The small blades retracted a fraction of a second before she caught her pistol. She pressed the barrel to the woman’s cheek as the thug’s now-empty hand lined up with the girl’s head.

“Where can I find him?” Risa put her fingertip on the trigger, making her pistol chirp. “I’m not going to ask again.”

The woman screamed at the child as though she were a creature from a horror vid, tripping over herself to backpedal. She fell amid a mountain of take-out cartons and discarded beverage containers, each one bearing the yellow and green logo of ‘Noodle Heaven’, a ramen place around the corner.

Risa aimed at the trembling garbage. I should kill her. She’ll only come back.

“She doesn’t know.” The child walked up to the trash, twisting her hands in a halfhearted protest of the cord around her wrists. “You’re not going to bother Risa again, are you?” She leaned forward, whispering, “Don’t lie, I’ll know.”

“No,” whimpered the trash heap. “Go away. Don’t eat my brain.”

The girl straightened up, turned on her heel, and walked over to Risa. She cast a neutral glance at the dead men. “Thank you. I’m probably going to have nightmares about watching this, but it’s better than being dead.”

Risa stared into the deepest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Aside from a dusting of grime, the kid looked like the offspring of a pair of supermodels, like one of the perfect WellTech child dolls brought to life. She’s obviously real if she’s psionic.

“I am real. My dad paid for my eyes. Do you like them?”

“Are you actually here?” Risa poked the girl in the shoulder, finding her solid.

“Yes.”

Risa’s urgency to meet with Tamashī tugged her towards the alley, but clashed with her inability to leave a child on their own. “You have somewhere to go?”

“Yes.” The girl smiled.

“Good. Where?”

“With you.” She rocked heel to toe, causing the lights in her sneaker soles to flash. “Will you please cut my hands loose? It’s hurting my arms and my nose itches.”

“With me?” After a few seconds of stunned staring, she stuck her lasers in their holsters and popped a single claw, which made short work of the synthetic cord. “What?”

The girl wiped at her nose for a moment before rubbing the red marks on her wrists. “I’m Chaia, but my dad called me Nix because I helped him nix bad deals. You can call me whichever you like.” She looked down. “Can we move away from dead people please?”

“Paid for your eyes?” Risa’s heart sank.

“They’re still mine. Doctors made them super-blue and turned my hair blonde because my dad thought it made me cuter.”

Risa walked to the end of the alley, dreading and hoping the girl followed in equal measure. “That shade is almost unnatural.” She cringed. “It’s very pretty though.”

“Thank you.” Chaia followed.

“Were you really on the tram, or did I dream that?”

“Yes.” Chaia stepped over a sleeping vagrant. “I was there.”

Risa paused to look at her newest charity case. “Why didn’t you talk to me then?”

“This is how I dreamed our meeting. It wasn’t right yet. When I see things and try to change them, sometimes even worse happens. Sometimes things don’t happen as I dream. I thought you were going to kill that woman.”

“I’m in a good mood today.” Risa whipped around with her gun leveled at the pair of eyes in the trash heap. “Don’t let me see you again.”

Two hands emerged in a gesture of surrender.

This kid’s a precog?

“Yes.” Chaia wiped at her sleeves, redistributing dirt. “I’m a clairvoyant and a telepath. Daddy brought me to work. At first, he would say he couldn’t find a babysitter, then he told his boss I was his ‘good luck charm.’ I acted like I was playing in the back of the room, but really I listened to the other people and told Daddy what they were thinking so he could win negotiations all the time.”

“That’s―”

“Illegal. Yes, I know.” Chaia looked down at her pink sneakers. “Even though I did not force people to change their minds, it is against the law. Miss Y from Matsushita Electronics figured me out. She is probably the person who sent men to kill us. I had a bad dream and woke up. We got away, and came to Mars to hide… but they followed us. Daddy’s dead.”

Risa stared at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. I saw it happen in my dreams, but I didn’t understand it was the future till later.” Chaia stared down at her sneakers for several steps, but looked up with a restrained smile a moment later. “I was scared. I kept dreaming of you and didn’t know what it meant. When I saw you on the tram, I knew you would help me.”

“If you can see the future, how’d those morons―”

“I let them catch me.” Chaia tilted her head. “I walked right up to them and let them grab me. I knew they would bring me to you.”

This kid’s as reckless as I am. Risa resumed walking towards the Orbital Hotel. “I’m…” Holy shit, I can’t tell anyone. Maris would exploit her. “Why did they even grab you?”

“They said you almost blew yourself up to save some kids.”

Risa’s eyes narrowed. I need to have a chat with this Lars. I barely told anyone about that.

Chaia hovered close as they emerged from the alley and entered a street brimming with pedestrians. Risa headed three blocks over and cut left on the street leading to the Orbital Hotel. The girl glanced up at her every so often with a pensive look that made Risa uneasy.

“Are you bringing me to the boy now?”

Risa shot her a quizzical glance. “What boy?”

“The one I’m going to love.” She looked up, still with that blank, eerie expression. “I’m going to meet him soon.”

This kid is weird. “Uhm… I have no idea what boy you’re talking about.” One of the boys from the mine?

“I’m not weird.” Chaia stuck out her tongue.

Risa paused, eyeing the enforcers lounging in front of the building. “I am completely out of my mind even considering walking into a Syndicate den with an eleven year old girl.”

“I’m twelve, and they won’t want to sell me.” Chaia looked back and forth between Risa and the men in dark suits. “I have dreamed of being with you for things which haven’t happened yet. You shouldn’t worry about going in here now.”

What if Tamashī found them? I might not have much time. She grasped Chaia’s hand. “Not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Stay close.”

“Okay.” Chaia showed little reaction to the contact.

How is this girl so calm? Risa walked out of the shadows. Guess knowing the future helps.

Chaia smiled.

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Daughter of Mars #88 | (Fragments)

Daughter of Mars #74 (Blind Wish part 4)

Daughter of Mars #77 | (Breaking Eggs Part 1)

Cover Reveal | Actuator 2

Book 2 in the Actuator series by James Wymore and Aiden James is coming out on July 20th. I’m pleased to be able to share the cover now!

 

As you can see, there’s a lot going on. The Actuator is a machine capable of altering the very fabric of reality, creating pockets of “real” genre fiction. “Machine Monks”, people tasked with exploring the machine’s capabilities, create small test arenas modeled after their obsessions: fantasy, sci fi, vampires, gothic romance, noir detectives, horror… They all get to live their dreams, until a saboteur strikes and the machine remakes the entire world, setting up pockets of ‘genre fiction’ all over. Innocent people are turned into monsters. A handful of the former secret group are the only ones who know what happened–and not all of them want to ‘fix’ the Earth.

Book 2 picks up soon after the events of the first, as Red and the others set out to collect the remainder of the keys and shut the machine down. Their plan seems solid, until the saboteur who caused it all enacts the second phase of their plan.

Check out James Wymore here: https://jameswymore.wordpress.com/

Check out Aiden James here: http://aidenjamesfiction.com/ or on his Facebook page.

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