"The salvation of nature terrifies me, the overbearing, suffocating dominance of megacities is my home."
*
Locke inhaled the amalgam of flavour, nicotine and rotting cloves with the kick of tobacco against his nostrils. His air filter whirred to life, sucked the smoke away to replace it with the mild fabricated scent of clean cotton, The backscreen in his AV snapped on with the scheduled crime report.
'Galatea's stocks have risen to rival Kogyo with the recent developments in drone bodies in partnership with Jessie Gibbs' text generation and vocal processing fusion now miniaturised to work on your mobile phone--'
He'd have to get the thing fixed by Yama tonight. He walked back to the passenger seat, planted himself in it decided to let himself drift to the hum of the Grission engine.
In the corner of his eye he saw the flash of a flare from a ghetto block and hoped his phone didn't ring with more lunatic cases required to be investigated then raided for any number of drugs.
He took a fat huff of smoke and exhaled the bliss when his dashboard lit up with an alert and five buzzes for an urgent call. He winced at the number being Irine's and the fact she was using her *personal* phone. He sat up and snatched his phone from the board mount and answered.
Irine's face showed up under an umbrella out in the rain with a gas mask on, she was out of her jurisdiction and present in Oriphi too, he suppressed a groan, *Now my night's going to be ruined by a bloody work call at one in the morning.*
"Locke, I need you to come to the address I sent to your AV. Urgent. Now." she said with bags under her eyes.
He tapped the ashy end of the cigarette into the armrest tray, "What's going on? You're out without Haptics, HardLight and in Oriphi?"
"Inconvenient for you to choose to be here to avoid Cedarbrand cases." She chewed each word, "But these are orders from the top. We need you blue boots on the ground."
He shook his head, "Blues in Oriphi is all tainted."
"Finish that cigarette," she said evenly, "Then put your mask on." she hung up.
The news report droned on, 'Cedarbrand remains the cheapest safehaven from escalating prices. Amberend sees a small spike in crime....'
The AV landed with a dull thud and beeped for safety release, Locke clicked his filtration mask into place and went to weapon storage. He selected the battle rifle and the Phos launcher, opened the digis case and slid the glasses on. The UI booted up with a near inaudible chime. Through the window he could see the yellow haze of the Gibmen fog at head height. He opened the door, the sound of rain pattered on against the mixed grey and black textured concrete clumped together from recycled aggregates. Rain formed a light dance of reflections from the holos on buildings, the green and blue Boreal Aurorae in the sky, down to the pale LED streetlights. Locke took an umbrella out of the door's storage compartment, popped it up and made his way to the location given by Irine.
"Hey, Locke. Long time." Ruruen's figure stepped out from a bus stop and decloaked himself, his powers flickered the lights.
"Long time." he went to take a step to shelter the man from the rain but remembered his Resonance Field stopped raindrops and was what made him invisible. "Answer's still a no."
"Gonna have to fold today, sel." the dark skinned man smiled, "Orders from the top."
"Joker." Locke said.
"G'luck." Ruruen took a step back into the shadow of the stop, "Listen carefully to Irine, 'member, this is from the top. Big Turq himself is pissed."
Locke walked by Ruruen towards Irine, the bossy woman stood under a streetlight. Haptiks formed a barrier of red light around a crime scene with various officers and a few detectives already at work.
He made his approach and noticed she was on the phone, the woman looked up at him and took out a blank cigarette box. He took it and she turned to finish her call quietly before she spun around with the same screw face from exhaustion behind her mask.
"Gimme one."
Locke put it in her cargo jacket's pocket, "Anytime you give me these..."
"I hate using umbrellas." she raised a hand to her mask but snatched it back down, "First," she took out a Masanori high corp grade jammer and turned it on. HIs phone buzzed angrily. "Walk with me."
He followed her back toward his AV as the clouds boomed thunder and raindrops fell harder as if to mask their conversation. Irine gripped the jammer in her fist.
"This stops Listeners and MicroLites from hearing us." she said in low tones, "I need help, and you're the only officer I know who's too much of the 'soldier of justice' type to go dirty."
"I'm flattered." he said drily, "What's the sitch?"
"Turq wants to clean up the TPSB, guy started hanging with a witch and she says something's gonna happen and they need to be prepped." She stopped by his AV, "He's stopped trusting most of the force and is slowly tightening up on them, but he needs people he can work with on this. Can we count on you?"
"You need me trigger happy? Because I'm afraid I wanna leave the war back where it is in the past." he said.
"Gods no." she sucked smoke out of the cig and flicked it into a bin, "This is a murder case, cold blooded but the group's unknown, go have a look at the body and footage then tell me if you're really up for it with us."
"I'm in." he wrinkled his nose, "You wouldn't have said that if it wasn't a guarantee."
When Locke reached the cordoned off alley the loud buzz of fist sized bumblebees filled the air. A drone swarm had started their routine scans and communications with HQ and transported evidence deposited by detectives. Drones buzzed in and out of open and broken windows, a few people bellowed at them. They were either too drug hooked or poor or both to afford repairs. Most of these buildings were likely marked as abandoned and even the corporations would have to be goaded by Tokyo-Airspace money to regard their existence.
A drone floated over to Locke and accompanied him on approach to the murder scene. Before he could flash his warden badge the officers stepped aside for him to pass. He entered the alley that smelled faintly of piss with the iron scent of blood. Locke yanked down his umbrella so he could stand under a balcony made of cheap recycled material bound with pipework systems to support the structure.
The scene, a man had his head collapsed into his torso, he lay flat on his back with his blood plastered all over the place but no sign of any brains that were expelled in the strike. Locke looked closer, his head looked mor elike it was forcibly pushed inside. But no sign of any brains, a week ago there was a case of a couple of guys and some illegal who had their brains extracted, but both cases were completely different. Now this looked like a professional crime, he looked up for where any cameras were and found two of them had been crumpled. A witch, or a Reignpainter he hoped. The worst case was another anomalous thing to deal with.
The body had symbols carved into it, reminded him of cult graffiti but he'd never seen this kind of nonsense before. He took a photo and sent it to Yama back home, she started to type the moment she saw it.
Yamayama: Netsphere cult, but different. Not them, but based off them.
So a witch, Reignpainter or anomaly that belonged to the Netsphere cult, he surmised. The drone by his side flashed green with 'footage' underneath. He hit play.
A man walked into an alley, he was identified as James Timberwolfe. He stopped in this alley, three blocks from where he lived with a drunken angle and slop to his step. He starts to piss when a group of men in techwear hoods and a woman dressed in some kind of robes with similar marks that were carved into the poor fella. He tried to fight off the group, indicated he was trained well in CQC. Locke rewound the video to look at his build. Poor fella looked lean but enough muscle to be capable in combat against your average ganger or hoodlum. Why would they target someone like him... he fast forwarded to the fight. James had started to gain the upper hand but noticed the woman at the back. She raised a fist and muttered something. The cameras shut off.
The drone beeped twice and showed that signs of Monroe and the liquid named after the witch famous for her love of excessive gore. It had been verified by a Reignpainter with a redacted name.
He turned to look behind to see Irine with another teenage girl he worried was the redacted 'Painter. She wore a mask that came up to her nose. It was covered in spikes and miniature reception dishes. It expanded with a material that looked like webbed graphene. Her hair was brunette and glowed amber at the tips. He muttered cusses under his breath when they walked up.
"Case is higher prio than it should be for what it is," Irine spoke drily, her eyes probably burned with tiredness and head full of complaints about the mask. "The Oriphi fats think it's some Rebirther act, Big Turq agrees. But you known Runan Turq, he's gods damned particular and doesn't believe anything walks in anyone's shadow."
Locke ignored the Reignpainter girl's pupilless eyes, "Kiisiner on this yet?"
"They're lookin' to give 'em a flush, heard they dispatched their own heavies down to Incari and Japantown." Irine gestured to the girl and Locke already rolled his eyes.
"No." He cut her off.
"No," she curtly replied and gestured to the Reignpainter again, "These are orders from Turq and Jin, your mission format is going to change. And she is the reason, keep her on the move and keep her safe, otherwise we terminate your contract."
He felt his jaw tightened.
"She's special, if we fuck this up we could risk an ace at flatlining anyone who fucks with the TPSB. Imagine that, a reason for them to run on sight." Irine pushed the girl forward, "Her name is Brillian Skye Mystlocke Canta, fitting, Myst-Locke."
"I always despised your lack of humour." Locke said sarcastically.
"Part of a middle aged lady's charm to a young man, I need to take advantage of your being chronic solitude."
"How do-"
"I know you're not boffin' Yama, you're not her type." she passed him a handgun, "New model, stuff it up somewhere or use it, just keep it on you."
"Hello, mister Locke." the girl said absently.
"Hello, Brillian." Locke looked at at the kid, barely looked sixteen. "I met child soldiers in the Euro-African war, I'm not makin' you one o' them."
"Hafta warn you, Locke. She likes to kill."
The Reignpainter's pupilless eyes didn't deny the fact at all. He thought he saw a mean gleam in them at the fact.
"See, she's a real Killer Stargirl." Irine took out her tablet to transfer permissions, "She's well trained but I suggest you establish a good relationship. We have been unable to collar her, so we saw the best fit for an owner being you."
"Right." he looked at her, "What do you like to eat?"
She shook her head, "I don't eat. Don't need to."
*What kind of mutant are you, girl?* He felt something shift in him when he looked at her and returned his eyes to Irine.
"There, all done. Dubchek will return in a couple months, we'll have a major operation for you then." Irine caught herself trying to remove the mask, "I'm gonna need another smoke." she muttered.
"Hey, that's a nice Painter-"
"Shut the fuck up Jimmy!" Irine stepped back from him, "What are you-"
Before she could finish Locke was on him, Jimmy Greenthorne. Jimmy bloody Greenthorne. He grabbed him by his collar. Shoved the cumskin into the wall but only stopped as Irine had gripped the arm he was gonna punch the fucker with- No. That grip is too strong.
He saw the teenage Brillian had held onto him, casual and relaxed which set a bomb off in his head at the level of Reignpainter he was stuck with. He let the nonce go, the rat boy skittered up the alley and disappeared himself around a corner.
"You should calm down."
"Where I come from, kid, we have a tradition. I ain't breakin' that." he said, "Not for a Exective's baby turned cop to have easier access to Ludari baby and child Reignpainters."
Irine raised a hand to slap him but stopped herself, "You *can't touch him.*" She said, "His father disowned him, but now he works directly under Fuscian Niji. Now get lost, both of you, I got phone calls to make."
"Sure."
"One more thing, Locke." she muttered, "If shit goes south, goes bad, and you have a choice between her and you. Run away, go to London and ask for *Him.*"
He fixed her with a glare and went back to the AV.
"Why are you standing there like that, Ruruen, aren't you happy to see me?"
Irine's eyes widened with shock as Ruruen decloaked himself.
"Since when were you *that* sensitive, Sunstar?"
She casually shrugged.