Lazarus Rising

1.5 Rovin

Breathing heavily, in short, ragged bursts of breath, Pires Kronk leaned back against the wall in the Foundation Buildings lobby and closed his eyes in relief. His cold, sweat stained shirt, turned wet with fear, clung to his back like an oversized sweatsucking leech. With a shaking hand he wiped the blood from his shattered nose and released a long, shuddering sigh.

Only the entreaties from his office had stopped the Lylac, Rovin from taking him back to the Sanatorium. Just the thought of it was enough to send another cold shiver down his spine. He checked himself out in the large gilt mirror in the lobby entrance. His blue hair was glued to his forehead in a slick of panic induced perspiration, his black jacket, ripped along the collar. He pushed his hair up and made another attempt to wipe away the streak of blood running down his face with his cuff and only ended up making it worse, leaving a sticky patch of bloodied mucus smeared across his lower jaw. He pulled his jacket straight and hurriedly headed for the exit. Maxer was still up there but he couldn't even bear to think about that now.

He just had to get out.

In the street he fell in line with the steady flow of Risers trudging Northbound toward Mossen, the foundry district and dropped into the strange, hypnotic, rhythmic pattern of walking adopted by the Risers whenever a group of them moved together. Slowly, as he made his way along the pink sun-stained streets, his thoughts turned inward.

He'd met a few Lylacs in his time, hell there were even a couple of low grade Lylacs on the Presidents team, but Sector19 got to choose the cream of the stock. The discards were available to anyone else, apart from the few really smart ones who had political connections. The ones on the Presidents team were impressive, in a way. A few mind reading tricks, a bit of simple object levitation, that sort of thing. It begged the question of what lay in the Sanatorium. The Lylac girl that had come earlier hadn't displayed anything special other than making a few smart connections and given time, he could have made those.

He had heard about Rovin, who hadn't? The usual second hand tales from the easily impressed. He was a legend. Rumours of the Sector19 psychopath, the man of many personalities, were well known. He was the dark shadow of Sector19, Haydens right hand man they said and his successor. God forbid!

There were those Lylacs of course who never made it anywhere, the ones whose powers unhinged them. Selected, interviewed and passed over by Sector19, they were Lylacs whose powers were too dark even for Sector19 to comprehend, those who lived on the edge of insanity or had already slipped into its clutches. Some were held at the Sanatorium for 'research' purposes. Others were shipped off to a facility in the North, a half lit, winter bound world of endless twilight. Part camp, part asylum, they were held and force fed poppers like battery chickens in order the powers gifted to them be dissected and disseminated. Rovin was reputedly once an intern at the camp but had managed to talk his way out and back into the higher echelons of Sector19. As far as Pires was concerned the man should be back at that camp.

When Rovin had come in, Pires had almost instantly dismissed him. He was a nothing, apart from the Lylac eyes of course. Slightly framed, lank sandy hair, thin glasses, unshaven. Like he'd just got out of bed and was still shuffling around in his slippers. Sort of scruffy. God, the guy wasn't even bright enough to get an eye aug to save himself wearing glasses. And how much did an eye aug cost? Next to nothing.

Easy, Pires had thought to himself. The man's probably going to show me a few card tricks to impress me and have me think of a few colours and guess them right, and then, bingo I'll spill my guts on everything I know. Well, that's not going to happen.

It was a slow start, for an interview. Rovin seemed almost uncertain, seeming picking up his train of thought and then losing it again. He'd scratched and fidgeted, umm'd and arrh'd. Who was the President with? Tell him about the Chauffeur. What was Pires mother's name? What was his mothers name, what did that have to do with anything! When was the girl here? How did she know? Tell him about the Chauffeur again? Round and round they went.