4. Blockade

June turned to Sasha. “Ready to go?”

Sweats several sizes too large draped over him, poncho-like. He looked ridiculous, like a little kid dressed in their father’s clothes. The neck hole drooped over his left shoulder, and the pants pooled around his ankles. He pulled the pants’ drawstring as tight as it would go and tied it off with a knot. Barefoot, he looked up at her and nodded. “Ready.”

She adjusted the top so it draped over his right shoulder instead, and pulled the sleeve down over his left hand. Both his feet had been replaced with metallic parts. Shiny toes wiggled on the tile.

“Kick your pants over your feet. Tooly isn’t wrong. A kid in harness… if they find out you aren’t registered, it’ll be a big problem for me.” Partial harness was less rare than full, but it was still rare for kids. It was better if she didn’t attract any attention, and Sasha was in the same boat after murdering a Regis branch.

Sasha nodded and kicked the too-large pants until they hung over his toes.

She looked him over one last time and sighed. Nothing she could do about the metal that still peeked through the left side of the collar despite her best efforts, and his toes poked out when he walked, but it was better than nothing. She ducked into the other room to grab her jacket and a bag, then gestured the kid on. “Alright, let’s go.”

Out the back. Debris blew around the alley. A homeless man, or maybe a drunk, drooped over a pile of boxes. The only light came from a few apartments high above, filtered through tight blinds. The scent of rotting trash and body odor hung thick in the air, too thick for the weak breeze. One side of the alley ended in light and distant sound, laughter and playful conversation. A scantily dressed woman beckoned to the people on that side, fluttering long eyelashes in their direction.

“Any luck tonight, Cherri?” June called.

Without looking, she extended her middle finger at June.

June chuckled. “This way, kid.”

She led Sasha in the opposite direction, into darkness. There was no laughter on the far side of the alley. A few billboards spilled pink and green and blue down on the streets in patches. All the lights were shot out or broken. When the billboard took on a brighter color, the posters slathered on the walls became visible. Some were bounties. Takat Gorman, 50.000. Harvrd Qe, 105.000. Jun Solis, 5.000.000. Frelis Champan, 1.000.000. Graffiti obscured most of the faces, some of it scrawled-on mustaches and glasses, some of it more familiar tags. A few of the posters listed off the wall, edges peeled up, revealing layers beneath the bounties. Posters for plays, for the red light district, for lost dogs, older bounties, sales, even a circus all mingled in the strata.

Above the posters, dilapidated apartments stretched upward, balconies drooping from age. Cables as small as her pinky and as large as her wrist strung between the buildings, forming a spiderweb of semi-legally shared net, electricity, and just about everything else. Music boomed from an open window high above. Burned-out cars listed on the sides of the street, stripped down to the frames. The few people who roamed the streets kept their heads down and moved in clumps, valuables clenched tight.

“Stay close to me. We don’t need to cause trouble,” June warned Sasha.

Mid-spin, Sasha glanced at her. He nodded, but didn’t look particularly convinced.

I wouldn’t be either, if I’d just wiped out an entire branch of the local mob, June noted. Then again, she wasn’t concerned for his sake. He’d be fine. The attention they’d draw was the real problem.

“Hey pretty, whatchu doing tonight?” a man in a leather jacket and a pink mohawk called out from across the road.

Sasha whirled. Something suddenly glimmered in his hand.

June grabbed his arm. Dammit, this kid. “Ignore him. He’s just a streetpunk.”

The man laughed and whistled, unrepentant.

“He’s a bad person,” Sasha murmured. He nodded at the man’s jacket.

June squinted. It was too dark to make out anything until the man stepped into the greenish light of a billboard. Momentarily, the grip of a gun appeared from under his jacket, then vanished again as he kept walking.

“I’m packing, too. Hell, so’s everyone who wants to live on these streets. Leave it,” she murmured.

The man passed behind them. Sasha turned to watch as he went. “He said…”

June grabbed Sasha’s arm and pulled the kid to face her. Again, those dark eyes bored into hers. Outside, the blue was indistinguishable from his pupils, making them huge, a junkie’s stare. “Listen. I don’t know how you were living until now, but this is the real world. There’s consequences to your actions. Consequences we will both have to live with. You can’t kill just because someone offends you. You shouldn’t kill, period, unless there’s no other option. Do you understand?”

His face was unreadable. Not a flicker of emotion appeared. He blinked, then wrested his arm free. Petulantly, he grumbled, “I wasn’t going to kill him.”

He hurried ahead a few steps, head held high. June stared after him. Have I made a mistake? She needed a powerful ally. Someone who wasn’t afraid to fight at her side. But this kid had no sense of reality, no judgement. Did he come from one of those savage, lawless planets? But where did the tech come from? The harness? It didn’t make any sense.

Sasha startled and bolted back to her. June caught him before he could run past. “What?”

“We have to go,” he murmured urgently.

She frowned at him. “Calm down, don’t be ridiculous. What happened?”

He grabbed onto her waist and dug his heels in. “We can’t.”

June struggled forward one step at a time. It reminded her of being a babysitter all over again, when the kids would hold onto her legs and laugh as she walked around. Heavy as Sasha was, he wasn’t heavier than a full-grown adult, and he couldn’t stop her. “C’mon, out with it. Use your words.”

He opened his mouth, but before he could find his voice, she turned the corner. A pair of patrol cars parked sideways across the street, blocking it off, and a half-dozen police officers in low grade exo-harness stood in front of it. Some redirected cars, while others addressed a line of passerby.

Sasha let go and pushed off, but June caught his arm before he managed to build up any speed. “Dammit, stop acting so suspicious. It’s just a police blockade.”

“I don’t have any identification. My harness isn’t registered.” He said them flatly, as if they were facts disconnected from him, but the tension in his limbs told the truth.

June wondered at that. So precise. Every nuance perfectly transmitted. It wasn’t impossible to find harness that nice on the streets, but it didn’t come cheap. Mechanical muscle fibers, twitch sensors, full neural integration… if it wasn’t for the silvery limbs, she would’ve thought he was fully organic.

Where the hell is this kid from?

Sasha gazed up at her, and she realized she’d been silent for too long. “Just follow my lead.”

He nodded. The silvery shape materialized in his hand again.

“No! Not—dammit, kid. We’re not going to hurt them. Put the weapons away, follow me, and keep your mouth shut unless I prompt you, alright?”

An uncertain gaze met hers. He nodded, slowly. The dagger vanished up his baggy sleeve once more. “If they attack us—”

“They won’t. Trust me.”

He hesitated, then retreated his hands into his sleeves. He gazed dead ahead at the policemen, body rigid.

She sighed. Guess trust is too much to ask. She joined the queue, Sasha at her side.

The policemen bobbed above the passerby on their exo-harnesses’ slender legs. Like scaffolding around a human body, black-coated steel beams stood a few centimeters from their limbs, strapped to their bodies at the wrists, the waist, the ankles. Powerful motors whirred at the joints, assisting their motions. The legs ended in a single spring-loaded beam that tac-taced on the asphalt as they paced. Like a pogo stick on each leg.

These exo-harnesses weren’t armored, and most bore scars and rust, but that was to be expected. The police in the Block got everyone else’s hand-me-downs. No one expected much from them, and the residents liked it that way.

The line crept forward. One after another, people flashed their phones, held up their wrists, or leaned in for a retina scan. One after another, they were waved through.

At last, it was their turn. June grabbed Sasha’s wrist and dragged him forward. She fumbled for her comms with her off-hand. “One second…”

Face obscured by the exo-harnesses’ helmet, the officer turned toward her. June resisted the urge to shudder. No matter how often se saw it, she could never get used to the blank stretch of steel where the officer’s face should be. Cameras embedded in the helmet would let the officer see more than their eyes ever could, but it still felt wrong.

“Identification, please.”

She held up the tablet. The officer pointed their scanner at it. A moment’s pause, and she lifted the scanner. “Next.”

June hustled through, leading Sasha by the wrist. A firm, cold grip on her shoulder stopped her. “I need his identification.”

“Well? You heard the officer,” June said, turning on Sasha.

He flinched back. Anger flashed in his eyes. “You—”

June jumped in before he could finish. “You forgot it again? Are you kidding me? Sneaking off to the red light district past midnight, and you don’t even bring your identification? Fucking hell. I should let them arrest you.”

Confused, Sasha stared at her. His mouth hung half-open. Belatedly, he shut it.

She shook her head and turned back to the officer. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. This idiot snuck out to the strip clubs again. Luckily I caught him—I mean, hell, who would mistake this fool for eighteen?—but apparently, even though he’s crafty enough to sneak out without me noticing, he’s too goddamned stupid to remember to grab his identification.”

Sweat dripped down her back as that emotionless metal plate regarded her. She frowned firmly at the officer, channeling every ounce of indignation she’d ever felt. Come on, believe me. Even though she’d spoken so confidently to Sasha, it wasn’t a sure bet. If the officer continued to demand identification, she had nothing. No backup plan.

The officer snorted and shook her head. “Kids, am I right?” She gestured for June to pass.

June laughed, unable to hide a note of relief. “Honestly.”

She pushed Sasha ahead of her and hurried past the blockade. Sasha jerked away from her touch as if it burned. June rolled her eyes at his back.

Once they were out of earshot, Sasha whirled on her. “That was your plan?”

“And it worked, didn’t it? Told you to trust me.” She grinned and slapped him on the shoulder.

“It won’t work every time,” he warned her sternly.

Too cute. Brows furrowed, hair swept back, a deathly serious expression… she couldn’t resist the urge to scruff his hair. “We’ll get you identification by next time.”

He ducked out of her reach and readjusted his hair with a scowl.

June led the way down the road, into an alley, and up a half-dozen stories. This apartment was no less dilapidated than the rest. Paint flaked off the walls. The stairs and balcony creaked under their weight. Boards covered some windows, and others hung open, empty, dark. June led the way to worn metal door and fished out an old-fashioned physical key.

“Welcome to my palace.”