Division Zero (12 page)

The boys dropped to their knees and spread their bodies out in the shape of an X. Kirsten felt sad seeing them used to the drill at their age; she did not even have to tell them to assume the position. The clerk ducked out of sight and came back up with a shotgun that looked as if it would break him in half if he fired it. His thoughts told her he had hit a panic button. Kirsten gave him a reassuring nod and held her hand up; he kept the gun pointed down.

“Man, this is some bullshit.” The brown-haired boy grumbled into the floor.

Kirsten searched them and tossed four handguns out of reach. They lay still, sighing and complaining the whole time. The last pistol, a DTF PSP 12, looked sleek and new. A rare European import, she studied it for a moment; it still smelled like packaging material. A tiny screen on the back end of the slide read 12. Tiny letters below that spelled out ‘STD 10mm’. The bullets were neither hollow-point, which were legal, or armor-piercing indirium, which were not.
Damn, this thing can tell what kind of rounds you load in it?
For a few seconds, she forgot she held an instrument of death. She hid her ‘wow, fancy toy’ amusement beneath the veneer of cop-face.

“Deutsche Technik Firma? That’s an expensive, imported gun you borrowed from your dad, Charles, what were you planning to do with it?”

The white kid lifted his head, bravado gone in a burst of preternatural fear. “H… how the fuck do you know my name?”

“I know exactly what the two of you were thinking. Emilio here was going to watch the door while you got in the clerk’s face and demanded he transfer credits into that blank stick you got in your boot. I also know you didn’t have a clue he has a howitzer of his own back there and your mothers think you are spending the night at Eddie’s apartment.”

The Hispanic boy gasped. “What the hell is this, man?”

“Lucky for you two I can hear your thoughts, and you’re kissing the floor instead of the clerk’s shotgun.”

“Only thing he’d have hit with that cannon is the ceiling.” Dorian laughed.

“Dat ain’t legal. Wait, you can’t pinch us for thinkin’ about credding a place; can you?”

Charles shifted his face toward his friend with a whispery yell. “Dude, shut up, my dad will make this go away.”

Flashing red and blue lights filled the front windows as a Division 1 patrol craft settled in for a landing. Two officers ran up to the window with weapons drawn, relaxing a touch when they saw Kirsten.

“No, it’s not evidence of a crime. However, you are both minors out past curfew, in a grey zone, and you have to be eighteen to carry a concealed weapon outside your home.” She glanced at the squeaking door. “These two officers will give you a ride. You should thank me for stopping you
before
you did something stupid.”

The boys grumbled, shocked to find police in the grey zone. The patrol officers cuffed them and dragged them outside. The door hissed shut, muting the endless torrent of bitching. Kirsten appropriated a plastic shopping bag for the confiscated weapons, handing it to the other patrol officer when she came back in. Kirsten explained their intent and suggested the two upstanding young men get a little scare on the way back to their parents. The Div 1 cop saluted her and left. Kirsten sighed and thanked no one in particular for not having to shoot at boys so young.

“Who are you thanking?” Dorian winked.

Kirsten flipped him off, smiling, and returned to the clerk who had stashed his weapon.

“Thanking you, miss.”

She flashed the hologram of Adrian. “You’re welcome. Can you tell me if you’ve seen this man before?”

“He arriving here multiple days of week. Three or four timing.”

Kirsten suppressed the urge to giggle. The guy had purchased a cheap English chip. “Do you know where he lives?”

He pointed at the door. “He walking always. No car. Has to be living close.” He leaned over and looked between her and the door for a moment. “How you know they want rob me?”

She offered a pleasant smile. “Just a hunch.”

In the car, she twisted the end of the wrapper until a small plastic ampule burst inside. Within thirty seconds, the burrito had become as hot as if it had just been baked. A chemical attempt at Mexican spice and chicken filled the car. Dorian covered his mouth and nose with one hand, leaning into his door to get away from it.

Kirsten blinked at him. “What? These are good!”

He shot her a wounded stare. “Smells like you picked it out of the trash.”

She looked at it, then to him. “No, this tastes a whole lot better than dumpster gold.”

Dorian shuddered. “I still don’t know how you can eat that.”

Peeling the wrapper off the end like a banana, she took a bite and mumbled through a full mouth. “Like this.”

Pulsating red light bathed the walls of a dilapidated motel in the unclean glow of a pair of holographic legs spreading apart to reveal a yellow smiley face at their center. According to the sign, ‘The Hole’ had vacancies. One look at the wall made Kirsten want to divert to a hospital for an anti-pak.

Dorian laughed. “The fact they have to put ‘also available by the night’ on their sign doesn’t say much about the neighborhood.”

“No kidding…” She leaned forward over the controls. “Neither do the bloodstains and bullet holes.”

Regardless of the far-reaching police power she held with her station, psionics constituted a blurry piece of law and in most cases, one could not go traipsing through the minds of the citizenry. Someone might sue if she picked up on the wrong thing, but going into a place like this she wanted every advantage. She would rather be sued than dead, or worse. Shivers ran down her spine as the door scraped over rusty hinges to reveal a dull green room and a minefield of trash, stains, and old autoinjectors.

A mountain of humanity flowed over the counter at the front of the motel and grinned at the sight of her. The scent of stale cheese and tobacco smoke clung to the walls in a way that made her think it would survive a purge by fire. The man’s grimy tank top looked as though it had not been removed in months; a fact bolstered by the appearance of navel hairs sticking through the fabric. Burns dotted his lower lip from where cigarettes had gone down all the way, likely while he dozed. The beast’s face left no doubt as to his thoughts as he peeled her clothes off with his mind; unfortunately for Kirsten, she could see.

She glared at him. “No, I will not show them to you. No, I will not get bigger ones. No, I am not looking for work, and no… that is absolutely none of your business whatsoever.”

He gawked for a few seconds before his jowls flowed back into a grin. “Means you
are
a virgin.” His eyes narrowed with anticipation like a fat kid hovering over cake.

“Oh, you are fucking disgusting.” She closed her mind to his thoughts. The image in his head of her dancing around in nothing but pigtails and high heels with a lollipop in her mouth made her want to shoot him right then and there.

“Thank you.” He chewed a stub of a cigar from one side of his grin to the next. “What can I do to you? Err I mean what can I do for you?”

Dorian held up his finger and orated. “Summary execution requires high crimes against a minor or the general populace at large, distribution of Lace, or the murder of a peace officer.”

Kirsten narrowed her eyes, her voice cold. “I think this guy qualifies under the high crimes against the general populace.”

The fat man laughed and examined the stun baton on her belt. “You give me too much credit, sweetie. You lookin’ for a room? That’s a nice toy you got there, I bet it gets the job done?” He looked back and forth between her and the device for a moment. “You can’t take that whole thing can you?”

Kirsten stared at him in shock, so offended by his insinuation she could not even speak. Even Dorian looked angry.

“Naah, it’d probably hurt ya. Bet you got other tricks.” He ended with a fluid-filled laugh as phlegm did a backflip in his throat. “I hear you cop chicks love the cuffs.”

Her mind raced for anything she could use to cause legal trouble for him, but being a worthless letch was not against the law. She fumed, unable to help but stare at a trickle of brown ooze that seeped through his decaying teeth and rolled over his chin. Kirsten tried not to imagine what perverse thought had gone through his mind to create the expression on his face.

Adrian’s hologram appeared at her behest. “Have you seen this man?”

“You’re wasting your time, honey-tits.”

Her face reddened.
One more of those…

“Easy.” Dorian put a hand on her shoulder. “If you mind blast this turd he won’t last. I bet he goes right into coronary arrest. He’s one Twinkie away from transcendence.”

“Transcendence my ass. Harbinger,” she whispered to Dorian before raising her voice once more at the man. “Just tell me where he is before I do something you’ll regret.” She made her eyes glow just a little, using harmless Darksight for effect.

Dorian chuckled. “I don’t think they’d even want to touch him.”

The man froze, unsure if what he had seen had happened. The cigar slipped forward, adhering to his lower lip. Her dire tone sent his leering grin into a grimace of trepidation.

The clerk pointed down the hall, sending his underarm into an oscillating flap that outlasted his words. “I tell you, you’re wastin’ your time. Room 18.”

Kirsten stomped down the dingy corridor, pounding puffs of dust out of a tattered maroon rug that died a slow death on the worn-out hardwood. Her boots crunched over a decade’s worth of grey-green paint flakes, her passage knocked several more from the wall. The cloying reek of stale cheese and smoke did not weaken much as she distanced herself from the atrocity at the front desk. The realization the aroma came from the clerk combined with what she had seen in his mind made her throw up a little in the back of her mouth. In the distance, the clerk shouted about his just-made coffee being ice cold.

After a few breaths to regain her composure, she walked up to room 18 and knocked.

A rich male voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

Well, that’s certainly not Adrian.
“Police. It’s about Adrian Lewis.”

The door flew open with such force it almost sucked her forward. She found herself nose to chest with a sturdy man with bronzed skin and brown hair in a military haircut and boxer shorts. She blinked, for a moment distracted by the musculature of his upper body.

The man waved past her face. “Can I help you?”

Dorian whispered. “Subtle.”

“Hmm? Oh… sorry, I’m looking for Adrian.” Eye contact. “Do you know where he is?”

He looked worried as he backed into the room to let her in. “No, I haven’t seen him since last night. He must have gotten up before me and left. He’s not hurt is he? Why are the police looking for him?”

Following, she nudged the door closed. “No, not yet. I need to find him before that changes.” Her breath stalled at the sight of a pair of large ballistic pistols on the desk; she calmed when she noticed a security uniform draped over the chair.

The man sat on the foot of the bed. “He’s been strange lately. Quiet, moody, and depressed all the time. Adrian isn’t usually like that.”

“How long have you known him?” She took out her datapad, staring through the floating green words and clear plastic at him.

“Oh, let’s see… I’d just gotten back from my final tour on Mars and took a job working private security. I’d been at that site for maybe a month when I ran into him at a bar after work.” He smiled. “He was such a piece of work; I knew right away we were meant for each other. That would have been maybe six months ago.”

Kirsten nodded. “Just for the record can I get your name?”

“Sergeant Daniel Arnold, UCF Marine Corps… retired.” He shifted to show off the letters UCFMC tattooed on his left shoulder surrounding an eagle holding the Earth in its talons.

She nodded. “And you two are intimate?” She smiled up at him. “I don’t mean to pry; just standard procedure.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Yes, we are, but it was more than just a simple hook up. I knew from the first moment we locked eyes. We’re going to visit my parents next month.”

Dorian chuckled. “Never would have pegged this guy for a―”

Kirsten fired off a look that stalled Dorian in his tracks. “Daniel, I have reason to suspect Adrian may be connected to a serious incident. I don’t know the extent of his involvement yet, but for his own sake I need to find him before things get worse.”

“Well, he had been looking for work, but given his sense of fashion he hasn’t had much luck yet. I had a buddy over at Paradise Lost who was willing to hire him as a waiter; but he never showed up for the interview.”

“Hmm.” Kirsten tapped her finger on the datapad. “Have you ever seen Adrian do anything strange?”

“Define strange… that’s kind of vague.” Daniel laughed.

Strange like this.
Kirsten spoke right into his mind.

Daniel’s eyebrow lifted. “Psionic? Yeah, I ran into a few of you guys on Mars during an operation over by Olympus Mons; real freaky stuff. Rumor had it there was some kind of alien tech found there.”

“I bet I don’t even want to know. But, back to the question… have you ever seen Adrian do anything like that?”