Boss King and the Blade

Central Markets, The Hole, Spitfield City

Wednesday

Boss King

Boss King yawned deeply, stuffing his hand into his mouth to keep the cold morning air from filling his lungs. He was dressed in his usual shirt and shorts, a red cap jammed over his unruly dark hair. A cheap padded jacket hung open in front, letting his hand draw the trusty machete if he needed it.

His Mama always chided him for not dressing in warmer clothes, but a few hours after sun-up and it would already be uncomfortably hot on the cracked pavement of the parking lot. The jacket was all he needed for now, to be carefully folded away in a plastic box he kept hidden under the front steps of the Markets.

He walked easily towards the main entrance, contemplating whether he wanted just coffee this morning or perhaps one of Mrs Kwan’s excellent egg and cheese pies. Mama had prepared him the usual breakfast of course, a bowl of porridge and a slice of jam covered toast. He had eaten those with gusto, assuring his mother he needed nothing more.

That was a lie, but he refused to let her skimp on her own food to give him extra. Nearly every Panda he earned went to caring for his beloved Mama, buying the expensive supplements she needed to survive. There was no way he was going to take a single mouthful of porridge from her just to fill his belly.

He had passed through his nearly vacant domain, noting with satisfaction there were few vehicles parked here that hadn’t made prior arrangements with him. Boss King knew full well that the Markets operated all through the night, the “Midnight Traders” as everyone called them dealing with illegal or unsavoury products and services.

Boss King wanted no part of that trade, letting the traders and their shifty clients park in his lot for free during the middle of the night. By dawn, they were nearly always gone and the Markets returned to their usual clientele and stalls.

This morning he spotted one unusual carry over from the Midnight trading. A large black van, no company logos or markings on its sides, sat tucked away at the far end of the lot. Standing outside was a man in a business suit, a wrist mounted drone controller on one arm as he surveyed the lightening skies over the Markets.

Boss King lifted his own eyes to the heavens, spotting the darting black shapes of tiny scout drones moving around the air. There were five he could see, meaning this was a talented Drone Jockey if he had that many active at once. He let his eyes move to the uppermost level of the Markets, seeking out the rooftop.

Up there lived a guy called Zeke Tao, one half of the partnership that ran a stall named Rackman and Tao. They sold all kinds of high tech equipment, much of it cutting edge and probably stolen. A lesser known side of their business was an extensive surveillance network across the Hole and into Spitfield too.

He doubted Zeke would take kindly to a rival Drone Jockey flying his own swarm of remotes around the Markets, especially since Zeke and J-san lived in an RV parked on the roof. It was still too early for either partner to be awake, considering they would have been up trading all night, but he decided to drop them a message.

Boss King headed with urgent haste towards the main entrance, wondering why the Drone Jockey was here in the first place. He had an awful suspicion that he knew exactly what, or more accurately, whom the drones were looking for.

=====

Melody-Six

Melody saw the drone fly in from above, one of those tiny ones Guardfather Gregory had warned them about. He called them Suicide Drones, designed to swarm a target and try to detonate small explosive charges against your head.

In the dark, narrow street she was traversing there was little light, yet she saw the projecting spike of a metal tube on its front. It was not likely to be a bomb, but rather a hypo-injector of some sort. She bet that if it managed to reach her, she’d be pumped full of a knockout drug of some kind.

As she ran towards it, she hefted her metal pipe like a bat, keeping her eyes forward and elbows slightly bent. Nursemother Amber had taught all the children how to play Baseball, claiming the hand-eye co-ordination was good for their training. Melody thought it was just because Amber had been a fan of the game before she found a new life as a Nursemother. Either way, Melody had a gift for the game and could hit any curve-ball or fast throw her siblings sent at her.

The drone dived at her, coming straight at her exposed neck. Melody timed her swing perfectly, driving the metal pipe like a sledgehammer into the tiny remote. It broke into three pieces, the biggest of which sailed clear over the walls of the closest building for a definite Home Run.

It’s sneaky partner, which had been buzzing along almost silently at her back, took the opportunity to lunge into her shoulder. If Melody had been just an ordinary teenage girl it would have stuck her good with its hypo-injector. However, she was not an ordinary girl and she had detected the incoming machine with moments to spare.

Without breaking stride, she leapt and spun, bringing her improvised bat around in a broad sweep. It connected with a satisfying crack of sound, sending the drone cart-wheeling over the head of the two hounds still chasing her.

She landed nimbly on the broken street tarmac and took off, angry at the drones for making her slow down. The hounds were closer than she had expected, using their superior speed and untiring legs to narrow her lead.

Up ahead, the street had widened out, a few parked cars and cargo vans showing she was nearly at the Central Market entrance. A final effort and she raced into the open, the towering floors of the shopping centre looming over her like some medieval castle.

More drones were visible in the air, some watching from afar and others diving down to intercept her. Melody roared her battle-cry, the one unique to her. Guardfather Gregory had told her to use her own challenge when engaging in close combat, to terrify her enemies and give her an edge.

“Banzai Butterfly!” she screamed, making a few early shoppers turn towards her with startled looks from the concrete steps. A hapless remote flew at her, living up to its name of Suicide Drone as she batted it mercilessly into the pavement. She jumped its broken body and ran up the steps, the grandmas with their shopping bags scrambling out of her way.

Melody stumbled to a sliding stop in the entry way, her feet slipping out from her as the stolen shoes lost traction with the tiled floor. She ended up on her back with one dirty white sneaker jammed up against the legs of a young boy, regarding her with amused wonder.

“Welcome back” said Boss King with a smile. “Do you need some help?”

=====

Boss King

Boss King had barely entered the main thoroughfare, heading for the central stairs, when a commotion near one of the entrances caught his attention. He arrived in time to see the girl from last night roar out ‘Banzai Butterfly!’ and smash a drone out of the air, then run up the steps and slip over on the wet tiles.

She ended up sliding along the worn tiles all the way to his feet, looking up at him with a surprised expression.

“Do you need somewhere to hide?” he asked the girl. She regarded him with shocked eyes for only a moment, then nodded her head. “Okay, come with me” he told her and extended a helping hand.

Together they moved past the curious early shoppers with Boss King in the lead. He still had his hand gripped around the girl’s, her other hand holding her length of pipe. They strode up the steps, leaving the busy floor behind them.

The next floor was where they sold cheap clothing, hats, shoes and all the accessories it took to be a fashionable Hole dweller. In fact many stalls sold second-hand luxury clothes and excellent imitations, making this floor a popular destination for budget conscious fashionistas.

Boss King paused, gave the girl a look over, then dragged her to a stall whose owner was a friend.

“Marta!” he called to the tall, well muscled woman who ran the clothing stall in question. “Glad to see you are here early this morning!”

“Hi King” she answered with her deep, husky voice. Marta used to be Martin, having transitioned from male to female a few years back. She used to run a fruit and vegetable stall on the ground floor, but after her change decided she wanted to sell ‘pretty clothes’ instead. Boss King had been a friend from before and had helped her establish the new business, redirecting shoppers to the stall whenever he could.

“I’ve got some new stock coming in today, so I wanted to get an early start on reorganising the display. Do you want something for your Mama?”

“Not today” he replied and dragged the girl forwards. “She needs to change her look, something to hide her appearance and fast”

Marta ran her own shrewd eye over the nervous looking girl, tapped a long finger against her cheek and nodded in agreement. “Come here, sweetie, I’ve got just the thing”

While the girl was ushered into the changing room, Boss King scanned the floor and stairs they had just arrived by. As he expected, a dark suited man appeared at the far end of the central aisle, a small scanner held in one hand. Dressed as he was, the guy was definitely not from around here.

Boss King whistled a short series of notes, seeing the few stall holders here this early glance in his direction expectantly. The boy nodded with his chin at the intruder and whistled a low, menacing tone.

Two of the stallholders, a beefy woman who sold the latest shoe styles and a slim guy that sold bags and purses, converged on the poor fool with their best wares in hand.

“Morning, honoured sir!” they cried. “Welcome to our humble store! Look, we have the latest fashions to buy. Perhaps you are seeking some gift for your beloved wife? Maybe a new handbag for your girlfriend? How about nice new shoes for both of them?”

Boss King grinned as the man was hemmed in by the eager sales people, pressing their goods into his hands and offering extra special ‘morning prices’ for everything. Satisfied they were holding the hunter at bay, he went to check on the girl.

“Time was short, but I think she looks fabulous!” Marta declared. It had been only a couple of minutes yet the girl was completely transformed. She now wore long dark jeans, a buttoned blue shirt and a sturdy grey jacket with a hood. Her feet were covered in a pair of black running shoes, second hand but clean and in good condition. Once the hood was pulled over her dark hair, she looked nothing like the young girl who had run into the Markets.

“Thanks, Marta!” Boss King told her gratefully. “I’ll pay you back later, Okay?”

“Sure, honey” she answered with a smile. “Now get going while I work my charms on that handsome fella in the suit” She ushered them aside and strode purposefully down the aisle, heading for the overwhelmed man in question. Conveniently her broad shoulders blocked the view of Boss King and the girl as he led her up the stairs to the next floor.

“Where are we going?” the girl demanded from him.

“You have a tracker in your neck” he said calmly as they ran up the steps. “We need to get it masked or you won’t ever escape those guys”

“What!” she exclaimed.

=====

Melody-Six

Melody’s mind whirled as she absorbed the boy’s words. She didn’t quite believe him, yet somehow it made sense. The mechanical hounds and the drones, they must have used something to lead them to her hiding place.

She ran a hand over her neck as they climbed the concrete steps, wondering where the device was and who put it there. And when was it put there?

They exited onto the second floor, technically the third floor of the Markets but they used the Australian method of counting floors in the Zone. The lowest floor was the Ground Floor, the next was the First floor and this was the Second floor. Around them were the new and second-hand household goods that this floor specialised in.

Most of the stalls were still closed, there being little demand at this time of day for new lounges or refrigerators. The boy dragged her along various aisles, past a number of sheet covered stalls and others with simple mesh cages to protect their contents. At last he came to the far end of the Market floor, where a stall sold lots of old electronics and gear.

Melody examined it all with a confused expression, as the stuff for sale looked like it predated the First Global War and possibly the invention of electricity. The stall owner was an old woman, hunched over a bench as she delved into the ancient guts of something that resembled a music centre or stereo. Guardfather Adam used to have one at their Nest, playing really old musical discs called “See-Dees” on the device.

“Hey, Mrs Fong, I need an old style speaker if you can spare one” the boy announced, striding up to her work bench. “It’s kind of urgent, please” he added hurriedly.

Mrs Fong tutted disapprovingly and rummaged in a big plastic crate at the back of her store, while the boy fidgeted and fiddled with the handle of his machete. His right hand was still clasped firmly around Melody’s own hand, warm and calloused she noted. With a start she remembered she had left her pipe behind when she was getting changed.

Looking at this boy, who had decided to help her for some unknown reason, she felt a feeling of calm wash over her. He was a lot like her brothers from the Nest she realised, his face and build reminding her of Andrew-Six who had been the same age as her. Boss King was shorter though and possessed of a manic energy that her Nest sibling had never displayed.

The stall owner came back to the bench with an ancient speaker set, mounted in scratched black plastic. She dropped them on the bench with casual disregard.

“Take them” Mrs Fong said. “They are so old now nobody wants them anymore”

Boss King gave the woman his thanks then dragged Melody off once more, heading to a secluded corner of the Market edge. He took one quick look around, making sure there was no-one in sight, then smashed a speaker open with his foot. The aged plastic shattered and he dove into the spilled innards, pulling out the big magnet that sat at the back of the speaker assembly.

“What’s that for?” Melody asked, but she already had a good idea of his plan.

“The magnet should interfere with the tracking signal” the boy explained. “This won’t be comfortable but it’s the best I can do. Bend over and lift your hair out of the way”

Melody leaned over and exposed her neck to Boss King. Ironically, she realised if he wanted to hurt her, now was the perfect time. That machete of his would take her head clean off in one swipe if he attacked.

She flinched involuntarily as his hand ran along the top of her spine, feeling the vertebrae until he reached where her hair started.

“Uh-huh” he grunted. “Found it”. He placed the bulky magnet against her neck, making her shiver at the cold touch of the metal. Then he tied it in place with a handkerchief he pulled from a pocket. “Don’t worry, Banzai, I’m using a clean one”

She stood upright when he was done, pulling her hood over her head to cover the bulky addition to her neck.

“My name isn’t Banzai” she declared stiffly. “That’s just my battle-cry”

“Yeah, I heard” he grinned at her. “Banzai Butterfly. So is your name Butterfly?” he teased, relaxing a little now the tracker was masked.

“That would be a silly name” she answered. “It would be like calling yourself Boss King” she challenged him. He frowned at her and was going to snap something in reply when a sound caught their ears.

It was a gunshot, booming loud as it reverberated through the Markets.

“The hunt just got serious” Boss King told her. “We need to leave”

With that he grabbed her hand once more and led her to one corner of the floor where two walls intersected at a massive supporting pillar.

“Time to use the Thieves Run” he explained, which was no explanation at all. “I hope you can climb”

Boss King climbed onto the waist high wall, holding onto the pillar as a brace, then swung himself out into the open air. Melody gasped in alarm, then saw he had gripped a thick drain pipe that was initially hidden from her sight.

“It’s easy, Butterfly” he told her. “Just lock your feet around the pipe and lower yourself with your arms”

Melody climbed onto the wall edge and leaned carefully outwards, observing him as he alternately loosened and tightened his feet and hands where they gripped the drain pipe. He was low enough now for her to swing herself out, but she looked past him to the long drop to the pavement beyond.

Sunlight was streaming over the horizon, bringing a warm morning glow to the parking lot and the walls of the Markets. It also showed her the gleaming black bodies of buzzing drones, currently clustered around the main entrance to the Markets. While they still thought she was inside, the drones were not looking outwards. Soon enough they would discover she had escaped their searchers and come outside.

Melody swallowed hard and reached for the pipe. She locked one hand and one leg around it, then stepped off the wall edge completely. Her arms and legs felt the strain, but it was easier than she had expected.

Many times in the Nest, the trainee Blades had practiced climbing all sorts of ropes, pipes and sheer concrete walls. She wasn’t afraid of heights, it was being out in the open while she was high up that was disconcerting.

“Face the wall, Butterfly” the boy called up to her, keeping his voice low and urgent. “Just focus on the pipe and climb downwards”

She did as he instructed, her arms and legs moving in perfect synchronisation. Melody heard the boy puffing a little as he climbed below her feet, making her smile as she barely broke a sweat.

“My name is Melody” she told him.

“Really?” he gasped in reply. “I thought Banzai Butterfly was much cooler”

She continued to climb down, making sure she focussed only on the pipe in front of her face.

“I picked that battle-cry when I was eight years old” she admitted to the boy. “I wanted something that showed my deadly fury and my nimble defence. I know it sounds lame now”

“Actually, I like it” Boss King told her. He had stopped huffing so much, making Melody wonder if he was used to the exercise now. Suddenly she felt his arms grip her shoulders, making her let go of the pipe in shock.

Her feet dropped onto the paving that surrounded the base of the Market ground floor.

“We’re down, Melody” he said quite unnecessarily.