ABC - Penance

A.B.C. – Penance Part Two

My name is Luisa Maria Alvarez. I am an Inspector in the External Investigations section of the Police Auxiliary, reporting directly to the Avatar Jericho-Three.

This is a record of my Penance.

January 11th V27 (2047AD)

Underground Fighting Ring, Washima Factory District

It was a Friday night in the Wash and somebody was being fucked up.

The girl looked to be barely out of her teens, whip thin but her corded muscles stood out from her bones. Blood was spattered down her arms and sides, staining the simple white tank top and loose sweatpants she wore.

Without hesitation the big Enhanced fucker she was fighting hit her again, his metal arms driving like pistons into her ribs. She grunted and spun away from the guy, a seasoned brawler who used the moniker of Steel Hammer in the arena.

It was apt, with each metal arm ending in oversized fists that he used to pound his opponents. I had seen him fight before and he was a brutal thug, all raw strength and unrelenting attack. His defence was garbage, but since half his chest and stomach were covered in grafted Titanium alloy he could afford to be sloppy.

I watched the girl, wondering exactly who she was. Her face was covered with a wide cloth mask, two big eye holes showing her frantic pupils as she tried to recover from the latest pummelling of her slender frame. Her moves were familiar somehow and I wondered where I had seen her fight before.

Steel Hammer strode after her, lapping up the roars of approval from the baying crowd. It was a small venue, with maybe fifty punters in to enjoy the bouts, hidden away in an old factory complex in the Wash. He was a minor celebrity in the Underground Fighting community and this match was more of a spectacle to show off his skills. No-one expected it to be a real contest, since the girl was half his size and carried no obvious Enhancements.

Her name was given as Starlight Razor, probably chosen just for this match. She danced out of Hammer’s reach, causing a round of booing from the audience, then she ducked in and delivered a couple of low kicks to the knees. Hammer grunted a little and let her move away, favouring his right leg.

My eyes narrowed behind the Chameleon mask I was wearing, wondering if Hammer had taken real injury or was faking it to lure Razor back into range. I ran my eyes over the crowd, seeing a good third were masked like me. Ever since the big raid on the Abyss last year, the blood sport crowd had become a lot more cautious about showing their faces.

There was no sign of my mark, so I was going to leave the event when the Razor girl made her move. Hammer had been coming at her slowly, still favouring that right leg, when she ran in at him. He expected her to attack low like before, another kick or leg sweep, so he was already lowering his heavy arms, ready to catch her.

Razor came in fast, crossing the arena in three quick steps and then she jumped. Goddam girl must have coiled springs for legs because she cleared his shoulder height, her right leg kicking forwards to catch Hammer right on the jaw.

Hammer was able to react against her surprise move, rolling his head back so her booted foot barely grazed his mouth. He might be a solid lump with poor defence, but he knew how to take a shot to the head.

He was already lifting his arms, the metal pistons and hydraulics smoothly rotating his hands to catch her leg as she was in the air. Hammer twisted, using her own momentum and flung her like a rag doll against the padded arena decking. She hit with a massive whump, lying stunned for a moment against the stained canvas that covered the floor.

Then Hammer lifted her by the captured leg, grinning an evil smile from his bloodied lips. He held Razor aloft, the girl’s braided blonde hair brushing the canvas as she hung from his grip. The guy pulled his left arm back for a big finishing strike when she used her Ability.

A flash of light flew from her pointed right hand, a glowing Will of the Wisp striking his face. Hammer reared back, letting the girl go as he vainly tried to shield his eyes. Razor hit the decking and rolled to her feet with desperate agility. She left a smear of blood across the canvas as she surged to her feet, propelling herself into the blinded Hammer.

The big guy was well protected across his stomach and chest, but this was the Arena. There weren’t any rules and certainly nothing about hitting below the belt. Razor hammered the guy’s meat and two veg with her fist, all of her body mass behind the blow.

Even I squirmed a little where I stood, watching Steel Hammer scream in pain and fold over his crushed manhood. Razor rolled to the side as he collapsed and she got to her feet as he fell to his knees, shaking the raised decking with a tremor we all could all feel.

The girl circled around behind his broad back, then with grim accuracy delivered a snap kick into the top of the spine, just below his shaved skull. There was a meaty smack as her boot connected and the Steel Hammer toppled onto his face. He didn’t move and for about a count of five the whole place was dead quiet.

Then somebody cheered the victor and Starlight Razor looked out at the crowd with a dazed expression, like she had forgotten she was in a fight for her life. She slowly raised one arm in a salute and the crowd gave her some applause, hooting and hollering over her surprise victory.

When the cheering ended, Razor went to the doorway in the cage walls, waiting for the metallic mesh gate to be opened. I headed around to that side, observing the hostile looks of the arena host and a big burly offsider. Neither one seemed too happy with the outcome of the bout and they reluctantly unbarred the gate.

The girl stumbled out, walking unsteadily down the short ramp to floor level. She was ushered with rough urgency out through a door that was crudely labelled as “Change Rooms Staff Only”. I thought about following, intrigued by who this girl was, but a second slab of muscled beef appeared from within and took up station at the doorway.

Meanwhile, the host had walked into the arena, a throat microphone amplifying his voice through speakers around the venue.

“Hey folks, that was an amazing fight by our newcomer, Starlight Razor” he cried out enthusiastically. “Let’s give a round of applause for local hero Steel Hammer! He deserves our sympathy after a Blow Job like that!”

The audience laughed and some applauded as the host helped a stunned Hammer onto his feet. Like most of the people there, I was impressed the guy was still able to move at all after that strike to his spine. I guessed he had some kind of sheathing under the skin to protect the vulnerable area, or maybe he was just lucky.

Either way he shuffled out of the cage and headed to the rear rooms. In the cage the host was whipping up some more enthusiasm for the next bout, between an Enhanced called Iron Heart and a pair of NOMAs from the Hole who called themselves Lucy and Juicy.

As intrigued as I was, I left them to it, pushing my way past sweaty men and half dressed women until I got outside. The night air was warm but a gentle breeze drifted past, cooling my skin where it touched.

Acting on instinct, I circled the outside walls of the old factory and spotted a narrow alley that lead down one face of the building. I triggered the low light vision option in my Chameleon mask, rendering the debris littered alley in shades of grey and black. About twenty meters from me I could see light spilling from an open doorway and two men dragging a slumped girl between them.

I crept forwards, hugging the side of one wall as I moved. My heavy calibre pistol, a 10mm Caseless model loaded with Civilian Suppression rounds was in my right hand. Both hands were sheathed in my red Ceramite gauntlets, a memento of my own days in the arenas.

“We paid you to lose the fight you stupid bitch!” one guy shouted in the girl’s face, holding her upright by the braid of hair. She mumbled some reply and the big hero slapped her with his free hand.

There was some more low voiced discussions and then both guys took hold of Razor and lifted her up, one at her head and the other gripping her legs. She was pretty dazed I imagined after the fight and whatever pummelling had occurred in the change rooms.

They carried her to a plastic container that looked like a skip bin, about a meter wide and two meters long, with a covered chute at the front. One guy, who I deemed Macho Prick One, hit some control panel at the side and I heard the rumble of an industrial trash grinder start up.

Macho Prick Two had the girl’s feet lined up on the chute, ready to feed her into the mincer, when I shot him in the guts with a Suppression round. I was impressed with myself since I actually hit him where I wanted while at a run.

The boom of the pistol and the painful yell of his companion let Macho Prick One know there was trouble coming. He dropped the girl’s arms and spun towards me, drawing his own pistol from a shoulder holster.

Luckily for me the alley was dark and Prick One had no Enhancements to his eyes. Or he was a really crap shot. Either way he fired twice, only one of his rounds coming close enough for me to hear the zip in the air as it flew past.

Then I was at what I like to call optimal range – close enough to punch his lights out. He braced himself, legs apart with one leg leading and got his left arm raised to block my charge. If I had been one of the other 90 Percent of humanity he might have stood a chance.

My left fist crashed into his rib cage just under the armpit, my blow driving in beneath his extended gun arm. I pushed a lot of angry power into my Ability, focussing in on my gauntleted knuckles as they made contact.

With a sharp pop his ribs gave way, my fist driving them deep into his lungs before he flew backwards. He actually did a full spin in the air, his pistol spiralling away to clatter off the alley wall. His broken body crunched down hard onto the carpet of trash coating the alley ground and he stopped moving.

Have I mentioned before that I am a Kinetic Enhancer? I can draw in power from the world around me and channel it into my body or an object I hold, dramatically enhancing the Kinetic energy I can deliver with a punch or kick.

Once long ago I used to fight in these very same Underground Arenas, pitting my life and skill against other crazy fucks. I didn’t fight in the cages anymore but I was still a mad bitch when I needed to be.

“You can run if you like!” I snarled to Prick Two, who had shaken off the impact of my first shot. I lined my pistol up on his head, aiming for his right eye so he was looking straight down the yawning barrel. At this range, even a Suppression round would blow his brains out the back of his skull.

He let go of the girl, letting her feet slide down the side of the rumbling grinder to the ground. With his hands half raised, he backed away a half dozen meters, then turned and bolted. I waited until I saw him turn the corner at the street end before I focussed on the girl.

“Hey, kid, wake up!” I said urgently and knelt at her side. Through my mask I could see she was banged up real good, her face under the cloth mask bruised and bloody. I reached across and gently slid the mask down around her neck so I could see her face.

It was Minke, a young arena fighter I knew from Sam Preston’s crew. She was unconscious and if I left her here she was dead, that was a certainty. Somewhere in the Arena behind me I heard more shouts and a single blood curdling scream. They would be looking for her and me soon enough once Prick Two spilled his guts.

I touched the throat mike at my neck and spoke softly.

“You there, Ghost?”

“Uh-Huh” my hidden partner answered. “You taking the girl with you?”

“Yeah. She’s one of Sam’s crew from the Hole. Cover me while I get out”

“Copy that” he replied. I hoisted the slender girl onto my shoulders in a fireman’s lift and walked at a steady pace back to the street.

I turned away from the Fight venue as soon as I got to the street frontage. A door opened and I heard an angry voice calling for me when a single heavy calibre rifle shot sounded from across the street.

Whomever was coming out of that door cried out in terror and went back inside pronto. Knowing my partner he had just put a fist sized hole in the wall not far from their head.

“You’re clear, Alvarez” Ghost called me on my earpiece. “Just don’t dawdle”

“Since when I have been a dawdler?” I demanded, breathing a little heavier with my cargo across my shoulders. “Anyway, why am I doing all the heavy lifting?”

“You were the one who said I couldn’t go into the club” he reminded me. “I look too much like a Guard were your exact words”

He had me there. Ghost was a Guard clone, one of the very early models. Unlike his fellow Jacks and Jills from all those years ago, he had developed a faulty connection to the Quantum Network. Standard procedure for defective clones was to ‘retire’ them, which meant euthanising them and recycling their Quantum Processor into another cloned body.

Ghost had bugged out before he let them do that and lived as a shadow in the network ever since. He had rescued me a couple of months ago from a bad situation and now we worked together.

Ironically, it was a situation involving Minke and her old crew from the Hole that I had been rescued from. I was about two blocks from the Arena now so I laid Minke gently against a building front and fished my phone out of a pocket.

I summoned an Auto-Cab, approving the fare surcharge the company wanted to bill me for a pick-up in an Amber Zone. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Spitfield, Amber Zones are deemed high-risk areas that the Cab company deemed a potential hazard to their property. Not many Auto-Cabs get robbed or stolen, but it is a risk and the companies bill you for the added costs.

At least I wasn’t in a Red Zone. You can’t get a cab at all in those areas.

=====

The Auto-Cab rolled to a stop in front of me and Minke about five minutes later. I had been keeping a wary eye on the surrounding street all that time, fretting anxiously. Ghost had called me once, told me to stop pacing about as it was messing up his aim.

I hoped he meant that as a joke, but I was relieved he was still out there, watching over me. I bundled Minke into the cab, settling her as best I could on the faded plastic covered seat. They had despatched their oldest model Auto-Cab I noted sourly, wrinkling my nose at the odour of old vomit and shit that permeated the interior.

My destination had already been set so I closed the door and we rolled away with a hum of badly tuned electric motors.

“See you tomorrow, Alvarez” Ghost transmitted to me via my earpiece. I could hear the subtle doubt in his voice as he spoke to me.

“I am sure she doesn’t hold a grudge” I lied to my partner and he grunted what sounded like a laugh before disconnecting.

By the interior light of the cab I checked the girl over. She needed medical aid but nothing I thought was beyond my capabilities. Her clothes were badly stained and frayed, yet I reckoned the tiny Auto-Washer in my apartment could handle the job. Her boots were old too, still in good condition so they could be cleaned up as well.

This close to Minke I revised my original estimate on her age. I had thought she was roughly the same age as Sam Preston, just gone eighteen years old, but now I think she was probably only sixteen at most. It was always hard to tell with girls because they develop so much more quickly than boys.

She stirred a couple of times during the ride to my place, which made me hopeful she was just tired and not concussed. I used an App on my phone to check her eyes, the light flashing into her pupils and the camera recording her responses. The software reckoned she was not concussed with an 87 percent certainty so I took it as true enough.

The cab pulled into the rear of my apartment building and I paid the fare, noticing they had added an extra Ten Pandas for cleaning! I was pretty pissed about that, until I levered Minke onto my shoulder, letting her own legs support her partially as we staggered clear.

Minke had left some blood and other wet patches on the Auto-Cab seats, so I couldn’t begrudge them the extra charge after all.

While the cab rolled away, hopefully to a cleaning station, I half-dragged the semi-conscious girl to the rear door of my building. There were security cameras back and front of the apartment block, but the front entrance was right beside the lair of the building supervisor. She was an intimidating old veteran of the last Global War, with a military grade cybernetic arm to replace the one she lost in combat. Few people in the world scared me like Mrs Avonmore so I was not brave enough to drag a bloodied child past her door.

I managed to get Minke and I inside without dropping her, then stuffed us both into the single elevator that serviced all floors. At last I got her to the door of my apartment, 3D, and bundled her inside.