CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Neville:
Marguerite flew over the edge of the balcony, a blackbird with dark wings that fluttered in the breeze. She was free now. Free to die and live again. Free to build another fake family from the broken bits and left-over pieces of the sous-terrain soci??t??. And this time I wouldna€?t be part of her genealogy. I was tired of pretending that I cared, tired of listening to her incessant whine.
As if the blue-blooded elite deserved to complain about anything.
She seemed to be looking up at me as she fell, her mouth a small circle, a silent yet expressive O.
I laughed, quietly, chest shaking from a recent gen-spike, thoughts focusing then unraveling slightly, like they always did whenever I reached that mountaintop high.
She was at the bottom now, so far away that she looked like a tiny doll. A crowd formed quickly around her, insects flocking to an open wound.
a€?Speeds it up, my puppies,a€? I called to my team as I walked back inside from the balcony. a€?The mugs will gets here in about two minutes.a€? Bodies lay strewn throughout the suite, eyes open, not moving. Strapped to a chair, Russell tried to hold his head up, to keep his eyes focused while his daughter clung to him.
a€?Who gots the Newbie?a€? I asked.
Black-clad street warriors glanced at one another, then shrugged. a€?She aina€?t here,a€? one ventured. a€?We hasna€?t seena€”a€?
I struck the man down, glared at the others. a€?Where she at? Who gots her?a€?
a€?Fa€?true, boss, we couldna€?t finds no Newbie here.a€?
I latched onto Russell, yanked his head forward. a€?I only asks one more time.a€?
a€?I havena€?t seen her,a€? Russ answered, his words slurred.
a€?Yeah.a€? I grinned, then let my hand slide down to Isabellea€?s shoulder. a€?Ya hasna€?t seen her.a€? I lifted the little girl into my arms. a€?And maybe ya wona€?t sees this little one again, neither.a€?
a€?No, dona€?t touch her!a€?
a€?Ya knows what I wants. The research and the dog. The key to immortality. I gots to has it.a€?
a€?I told you, ita€?s gonea€”a€?
I nodded toward the door. My dark troupe began to slip out, shadows melting. a€?And I tolds ya. a€?Bout the things that would happen if ya didna€?t keeps yur end of the bargain.a€?
Sirens whined in the distance. It was time to leave.
a€?Ya gots twenty-four hours, Domingue. Then the little princess here,a€? I cradled Isabelle, kissed her forehead, a€?she gets painted to ride the flyina€? horses.a€?
I swung the child under my left arm, carried her around the waist, ignored her screams. I jogged out the door and down the hallway, toward the rooftop where the helicopter waited.
I sang as I ran. It was a dangerous song, usually heard in back alleys flooded with moonlight.
A song from the Underground Circus.
?
Wind from the roof whipped through the stairwell as soon as the door swung open. The chopper stood ready and waiting, blades slicing blue sky, energy pulsing. The team of gutter punks charged forward, heads down, a black running stitch across gravel tapestry.
A man stood at the edge of the open helicopter door, one hand pressed to his left ear, blind eyes searching. His right arm hung withered and useless. He was one of the many who could only afford black-market jumps; his clone body was slowly atrophying, pulling him back into the grave he had tried to escape.
I handed the child to one of the shadows inside the chopper.
a€?I hears somethina€?, boss,a€? the blind man said. a€?That dog, I hears somethina€? a€?bout that dog on the newsa€”a€?
a€?Gets inside,a€? I ordered. a€?Wherea€?s Seth?a€?
Sightless eyes stared toward the empty stairway as he shook his head. a€?He runs with you, he aina€?t come back yet.a€?
a€?Ya€?all gets inside!a€? I grabbed the other man, pushed him toward the open door as he climbed in. a€?Seth knows how to gets Backatown on his own. We gots to leave.a€?
The door swung shut and the chopper lifted, like a yo-yo on the ascent.
I looked down at the shrinking rooftop, chuckling as I pointed.
Below us we all saw the shimmering materialization of a small team of VR mugs; they punched through, blazed in and out, then shorted out. Vanished.
The chopper filled with laughter as it swung over the city and away.