Interlude #2
Callie bit her lips before she made a joke. Talia rolled her eyes. Callie held the knife tighter. She could do this.
“Stay here. Just for now.” Talia pointed to the door at the bottom of the stairwell. “I’m going through there first. I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
Callie nodded.
Talia tested the handle with a knife blade.
No sensors tripped. Her Opti couldn’t detect any toxins either, at least not in quantities sufficient to permeate the skin.
This place was someone’s personal residence – any graffiti painted over with a uniform nondescript grey-beige, likely so it wouldn’t attract attention.
Not that it helped. Its utilitarian blandness made it stand out even more.
Talia squeezed the latch. The soft click told her the door wasn’t locked. She pulled.
The inside did not match the outside. Art spray painted on the walls, mostly crudely drawn dicks and an admirably large array of curse words.
Filthy clothes, or rags in heaps in the corners.
A bed with a soiled mattress. Two fresh corpses, still bleeding on the floor and sounds of a scuffle in the next room.
Talia crouch-walked quickly over to see. She wouldn’t be heard over the commotion, but she might be detected if one of them looked in her direction.
Caught in Piston’s grip, Lusa spotted her first. Talia supressed the feeling of shock and rage, channelling it into well-practiced assessment before she murdered the ever-loving fuck out of him. She only hoped Lusa could understand that through her eyes.
Piston held her by the throat against grime coated walls, several small knives protruding from his arm.
The nerve suppressor implant at the nape of his neck explained why.
Thankfully, Piston hadn’t noticed her yet.
Fingering a small throwing blade at her hip.
She aimed for the implant and threw, only to be knocked off balance from behind just before she did.
Callie roared, brandishing her weapon clumsily. She launched herself toward Piston and was immediately caught by his other arm, the titanium prosthetic.
“Goddammit Cal,” Talia muttered.
Piston spat, unable to do much else with both arms occupied. “Why the fuck are you here? This is Cinder’s fault, not mine!”
Taking a step closer, Talia revealed herself.
Piston straightened his spine. “Naur. Stay where you are.” He squeezed Lusa’s neck tighter. Lusa scowled defiantly in return. Talia was proud that her daughter wasn’t begging, but now there would be no forgiveness. “Did Sesi order a hit?”
“No-one ordered it.” Talia shrugged like they were having a normal conversation, well-practiced mastery over her own darkness that she hoped Lusa would one day achieve.
“Then what do you want?” Piston hissed.
“My daughter.”
Piston scoffed. “You have a daughter? Quit the bullshit, Talia. What the fuck do you actually want?”
“I told you.” Talia twirled a tiny blade, her fingers itching.
Piston darted his eyes toward Lusa and then back to Talia.
But Talia couldn’t let Lusa leave empty handed, and she could guess why she was here. “I also need an arm.”
“Just fucking go to a DocPod. I’ll pay for it right now if take these two and get the fuck out.”
“No,” Talia sheathed her smaller knife and pulled a kukri from the small of her back. “I need a prosthetic.”
“That’s too bad.” Piston grinned. “Prosthetics are rare. My boys fix up what they can, but there just aren’t that many left.”
“Shame.” Talia raised her eyebrows. “Just stab him already.”
Piston laughed. “She’s out of knives. And even our DocPods can handle those nicks. Without your override chips.” He gestured, tilting his head toward the array of blades protruding from his arm.
“Not that one.” Talia flashed her lopsided smile.
Callie took a moment to register that Talia was speaking to her. She jammed the blade upward into the titanium prosthetic. It broke, but not before discharging its capacitors.
Electricity surged through him, destroying his implants. Sparks spat from his Opti and Piston collapsed, dropping both Lusa and Callie. The pain of several stab wounds suddenly became glaringly apparent without his nerve suppressor.
Lusa alternated between coughing fits and pummelling Piston, helpless and barely conscious. Callie pulled her away, but any reprieve he might have enjoyed was dashed by Talia’s boot. Callie pulled Lusa away, shielding her in her arms, knowing better than to try to interfere.
“I came for my daughter and an arm.” Talia spun a blade through her fingers like a drumstick. Callie covered Lusa’s eyes.
Talia pressed her heel deeper into his neck. “You could have dug up a spare. You might have had to call in some favours, but you could have done it.”
Piston sputtered wetly.
“Instead, you had to act like an arsehole about it. And there are too many arseholes in my life that I’m not allowed to kill already.”
Callie yelled, a final plea for reason. “Talia, if you kill him, we won’t have anyone to trade with in Tyton! Sesi will be upset,” she added.
“Trading with him nearly killed Pinga. Sesi will understand,” Talia said, devoid of even a gram of empathy.
Callie recognised the smile she’d seen only a few times, a mixture of every dark impulse Talia struggled to hold.
There would be nothing left to do but watch. “She can take it out on me later.”
Callie scrambled backward to avoid the blood splatter. Lusa watched, unfazed and unblinking.
Once the carnage had passed, Talia got to her feet. She towered over the body for a few moments before collecting herself. “You do that?” She tilted her head toward the room with the two corpses.
Lusa nodded.
“Why?” Callie tightened her grip around Lusa’s shoulders.”
Lusa looked to Talia. Talia saw it in the deepest brown, her own demon, writhing and alive.
“She’s here for the same reason we are.”
“What” Callie stared incredulously before she shook her daughter. “What were you thinking?”
“Pinga needed an arm, Mom.” Lusa swatted her away. “Uncle Sparx told me to get one.”
“That was fucking stupid.” Talia said it without the conviction necessary for it to feel like a reprimand.
“You wouldn’t have let me go.”
Talia shared a look with Callie. “She’s not wrong, Cal.”
“So, what, we’re supposed to let her do whatever she wants now?”
Talia put her hand on Callie’s shoulder. They both knew there was no controlling Lusa. Not anymore. Talia held out her kukri to Lusa.
Lusa looked at her for a beat, bruises blossoming around her neck. She took it.
“You wanted an arm? Take it.”
Lusa separated the prosthetic with macabre precision. After years of trapping, Talia couldn’t be surprised. She left the rest of Piston and his destroyed implants for someone else to find on the floor.
“Now,” Talia held out the arm to Lusa. Lusa took it reluctantly. “We go back. You and Sesi can talk about punishments later. Now, she needs a reputation.”
“What?” Callie shrieked.
“A reputation. She’ll go first, we’ll follow and make sure nothing bad happens. Everyone will see her carrying Piston’s arm like a trophy.”
“But…” Callie protested.
Talia cut her off. “But nothing. There’s no coming back from this, Cal. The best thing she can do to protect herself is make sure people think twice before fucking with her.”
Callie flapped her arms and let them fall limply at her sides. “Fine. Let’s go.”