Thunder

Chapter Five

In her small apartment on the 14th floor of a high-rise in Region 11, Z9's Halo-Core went off. The song was irritatingly chirpy and melodious, taken from a song released a few years ago that Z9 hated with a passion. A second later, Gina One's head projected from its surface.

'Serene, it's G1.'

'I know. That bloody annoying song you chose as the alert drives me so insane every time that I can't help but pay attention.'

'We were thinking of having someone go with you for this one. We've no idea what we're up against; nothing seems to go in or out of that place. Must be putting stuff in there from an underground because security footage shows sod all.'

'You dare tag-team me with someone else and I'll slit their throat.'

The Halo-Core was lying on the main kitchen table, where Z9 was gazing out of the window. She was leaving in an hour's time, and she wasn't anywhere near ready. How many of those people down there, floating around on the ground like fireflies, were waiting to kill her? How many would try to take her head in the next few days? How many lives would she have to take in return, and was it all worth it? Would it be worth it?

'We guessed that would be your reaction, so you're going in solo. We'll be watching, but if this is as big as we think it might be, there'll be people working with Zarch all over that area, so we can't send anyone else in. We've got other things going on, you know.'

'So I'm on my own, under time pressure, and it's important?'

'I'm so glad you understand. We need you there in three, you'll have to speed up your plans. Should be leaving in thirty minutes at least. Sorry to drop this on you, Z9.'

Z9 snorted. 'I don't think I'll ever hear you truly sorry, Gina One.'

The projection disappeared, flickering out like a blown-out candle in an invisible wind.

The apartment switched the music back on again, swelling to a relaxing mezzo forte. Electronic beats with synthesised melodies floating in an almost unrestrained fashion, mechanised gossamers on a musical breeze. Z9 didn't usually listen to music, but what the hell. Things were beginning to change, she could tell.

Z9 didn't think she had a sixth sense, but she had the sensation that someone was dropping subtle hints from the future into her heart. With a drink in her hand, she felt a wake moving under the surface of the world, knowing it would inevitably rise into a tidal wave and sink a passing ship.

Celestria, with all its comings and goings, looked relatively peaceful from her crow's nest lookout. Below her people passed and waved, bought food from stalls and put technology into their arms. Their eyes flitted and changed. Their jobs wanted someone with just a very slightly darker shade of blue. Vehicles swapped lanes. Delivery boys darted here and there to arrive where they needed before their boss hounded them for it. Lovers made love, dealers sold their wares. It was all very ordinary, the way the planet had been for the last few hundred years.

Z9 finished her drink and put the glass in the sink. She would deal with it later. She went into the bathroom, took an electric blue lipstick from the rack, and applied it with expert skill, a few deft swipes for perfect application. She checked her eye-shadow. All good. Check off the list. Her eyelashes were also her preferred length. It wouldn't do good to turn up and park in one of the top places in 41, and then walk into a hotel looking completely out of place. No sir. Not one bit.

She hadn't wanted to hotel the trip but Gina One had insisted upon it. With little information on the activities of Zarch's people to go on, she'd thought it best to have someone around for a while. Might need to drop in and out, do some serious snooping, et cetera et cetera. Six of the other Z agents were off-world and all the rest busy tracking down another organisation working out of Region 36. It seemed like Z9 was the only available agent, and with nobody to keep her company either.

Oh what a shame.

The drink was working its way into her stomach and her head simultaneously, and the morose introspection she had been drudging through moments ago was beginning to fade. She walked out of the bathroom, looking in her words 'drop-dead gorgeous,' which is how she always tried to look. Why not, if you can? She took the gun Mark23 had given her from a case on the side, put on the sunglasses and played around with them to get re-used to them, and snatched the card for the Viper Air off the table. She went to leave before remembering her Halo-Core.

Upon returning to the kitchen she found a message from Carmen on the core.

IN RECOVERY FOR BURNS, MANAGED TO GET THREE OUT OF THE BUS. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR ENDEAVOURS.

Z9 smiled, pocketing the device in her jacket. She passed the mirror on the way out and admired herself. Her new new dress, identical to the other one thanks to Mark23's interference, fitted her like a glove. 'It's not the same', she thought, 'but it'll do.'

She whistled for the music to stop before she turned off the lights and left. It felt like leaving the mausoleum to be reclaimed by the ghosts.