Thunder

Chapter Nine

Driving back towards her Region 11 apartment, the Halo-Core in the BlackSpirit reacted and Gina One's face appeared beside her.

            'What the hell was that, Z9?' she said with a mixture of disgust and shock. 'We said not to fire.'

            'The medics will save him,' Z9 replied, not looking down at the face of her boss which was floating not far from her hands. 'And besides, I pulled him out again, didn't I?'

            'We needed him to talk to us, Z9,' Gina One said. Gina One took her glasses off her nose and wiped them with a cloth. Out of the corner of her eye, Z9 saw the face projected into her kar, and it looked like it needed some more sleep. A lot more sleep.

            'He'll talk, don't worry,' Z9 said. 'It might take him a while for them to pump everything out of his lungs and make sure his vocal chords haven't burned away, but he'll talk.'

            Z9 took a left, heading onto the main highway out of the region, heading towards the 40-30 main stretch. Above her, Celestria was beginning to wake up, the early hours of the morning calling to those needed on the factory floors, in the offices and behind the reception desks of the planet. The sky was going through its subtle, almost undetectable change to the daylight dark blue, the radiance of Telcos and Stratis becoming just that small fraction brighter.

            'I've got to go and talk to the head of Region 42's policing and explain to him why he's got two fireballs on his highways, as well as write the obituaries for three dead Z agents. I'm not in a decent mood. And neither is Zarre. He's there now, trying to explain things to the press that don't involve the words 'terror' or 'threat'. You know how much he hates public relations work.'

            'He's a Public Relations Officer,' Z9 told Gina One as she overtook a Hurdess, two small children in the back seat with gawking faces as the Viper Air swept past them with majesty. Z9 reached into a pocket of the kar and took out a small tub of mints, popping one into her mouth to try and get the taste of burning flesh from her tongue.

            'That doesn't mean he doesn't complain about it. And do you know who he complains about it to? Me. So who do I take it out on?'

            'That sounds like it's going to be me,' Z9 said.

            'You got that fucking right. I want you in my office at two thirty, and you're going to explain absolutely fucking everything. This shit is getting out of hand.'

            The overhead sign for the 40-30 Highway flashed overhead, and seeing a nice, small stretch of open road, Z9 pushed the BlackSpirit on. She relaxed back into her seat, feeling it wrap around her like the arms of a lover. To her right then, the kar was her lover. The only one she had, and had had for a long time. Well, the only one she had had for more than a few hours.

            'Do me a favour, Gina One,' Z9 said. The floating head beside her scoffed.

            'You're wanting a favour from me? Try getting blood from the cold, steel ground, miss.'

            'Go to the main station in Region 22 and get a woman out of there and straight into maximum security. Name's Xerou Evangra, wife of someone high up in the people we're after. I think we can get her firmly onto our side; her involvement with them was pretty harshly forced.'

            Z9 thought back to seeing Xerou walk out of the shower. The towel was wrapped around her, yes, but that didn't mean it covered all of her skin. Even in the dim light, hiding in the shadows, Z9 had still seen the marks on her. The bruises that were still too deep a purple and gruesome a blue to be old. The scars that looked like the blood had only just began to crust over, still painful in a shower as water hit the wounds. The dark red marks on her back that looked like something had pressed into it for a prolonged period of time, criss-crossing over her shoulder with the memory of repetition. The lashes that could only come from something quick and harsh. It had been like looking at a bloodied lunar landscape.

            Z9 had remembered peering through a door, barely able to walk around, one eye peering through a gap as a glass came down upon a head. The blood-curdling scream as the bottle was thrown to one side by a violent hand. And then, tearing herself away and locking the door, throwing herself back onto her bed, the pillow clamped over her ears failing to muffle the sounds of hit after hit, the thwack of flesh meeting the impact of a blunt instrument.

            She had seen it in her eyes the next morning, in her little mirror, after she was told that Herr wouldn't be around for a while, and that Jusslire needed to go out and get another drink so be a good girl and listen to what your sister told you.

            She had seen the same look as she put the muzzle to Xerou, and inside she had wept for her kindred.

            'When this whole thing is done, you think we can get her back into the wider world?' Gina One asked.

            'I'm pretty sure I know where I can get her a job,' Z9 replied, thinking of the purple lights of Chorus' night club. She imagined Xerou at the bar, serving drinks with the pumping, pulsing music, pulling Chorus' speciality that she loved so much. Chorus would take her on, she was sure. Chorus, for running a tight ship and a rowdy night-club with a private investigator in the back room, was one of the decent folk of the city. She was good.

            'Well if it all collapses, you're getting the shit for it,' Gina One replied.

            'When don't I get the shit for it?' Z9 replied.

            'When you're... yes ok... no I don't care, go get Gina Six to...' The projection of Gina One dissipated and the sound of the air passing underneath the BlackSpirit was the only noise filling the kar. Its faint hum was almost undetectable as the 30-40 Highway's green neon rims put its arms around either side of the kar.

            Z9 flicked a few switches, putting the kar at a constant speed. The traffic was beginning to get heavier, but not crawling to a slow speed. She shifted in her seat, getting comfy once again. Talking to Gina One, for whatever reason, always made her uptight. Perhaps it was because she was the essential spokesperson for the entire organisation, or that she never seemed to be in her good books. And occasionally, she called her by her name. Unless she had given permission for someone to do that, Z9 detested people doing that. It was too personal, and felt like someone invading her personal space.

            Z9 exhaled, wiggled her fingers, and began to cruise home.