Luciana Gutierrez pressed her thumb against the scanner of her apartment, a warm tingle unlocked the door. Pressure sensors in the floor registered her entrance, turning on circadian lights and projecting the time onto the far wall.
4:30 a.m. blaringly red in the warm orange glow. She had been awake for ninety-six hours and had twenty-four more to go on this shift. Worse, she'd have to power through without any more eugeroics.
She pulled off her overjacket, resting it on the lone chair in her kitchen. Rain stained, two sizes too big, and heavy with gear. She never emptied it. A bloodstained badge hanging on the breast pocket read 'East Bowl Police Department, Precinct 19'. She removed her shirt, throwing it into a pile in the corner. Weeks worth of uniforms and undershirts, some stained with food, others with blood, and all stinking of long-shift sweat lay before the hatch in the wall for them to be automatically laundered.
Luciana gingerly removed her undershirt where blood soaked through a cement-like mixture of sweat and dirt.
That punk. She'd tag him back when she found him again.
A myriad of scars from the past year covered her body. The newest addition to the flock from a pocketknife above the deepest and oldest at the base of her ribs. Luciana's first-aid kit never left the kitchen counter. She removed the Derma-Clean.
"Coffee, porridge, shower," Luciana said, pouring ethanol over the wound. Pain lanced from the gash. "Motherf—"
The grinding of coffee and metallic mashing of grains covered her grunts.
She pressed the flesh together, smearing it shut with Regenepoxy. A seven centimeter gash now a pink and purple zipper. Luciana tossed her ENT and OPTO inserts into their neon yellow cleaning solutions on the counter. She headed to shower. A pulsing flow of steam and mist turned the city's filth into dark rivulets across her lean form.
She rubbed the puncture wound of her oldest scar. Motherfuckers. I'll find them, Erik. She cracked her neck. Need to hit the station and patch my body armor before the next stakeout... and I can grab the logs for more intel.
The water stopped early, soap stalling midway down her calves.
More budget cuts. She shook her head, wrapped a dirty towel around herself, and walked into the kitchen. The coffee steamed in its cup by a bowl of porridge. She grabbed her food and the tablet from her overjacket, standing by her lone window to eat.
The view was an unchanging patchwork of residential low-rises stained with pollution and dust that ran to the rising canyon wall of the Eastern Bowl's taller buildings. Two blocks away, a mother hung white clothing out to dry. It would turn gray and yellow by the time that mom brought it back in. Luciana put her tablet on text-to-speech and wolfed down her dinner.
"A detritus storm is forecasted to hit the San Francisco Bowl this Friday and will last until Wednesday," the robotic newswoman droned. "Although rain is expected to accompany this storm, it is not significant enough to warrant delaying the next planned precipitation. Cloud seeding has already begun and should arrive at the end of the month. Residents are reminded to stock food, water, and respirators before the storm hits. Additionally, during the planned rain people are not allowed to leave their districts and should telecommute if their company is still running. More information about local shutdowns and shelters will be provided as the storm takes form and approaches." The text-to-speech stopped.
A detritus storm. Outstanding. Luciana finished the coffee without even tasting it and changed into a clean uniform.
Chief will change assignments. I'll lose my lead. Damn it. She popped her OPTO-inserts in, cycling their modes. The world shifted from visible, to a graying infrared, to a polarizing ultraviolet, and back to the visible spectrums. The check function was as normal as tying her boots now. She slid her ENT-inserts into her ears and turned them on. The background hum of the apartment complex faded away. A garbage truck collecting cans on the corner rumbled as if within the room.
I don't need to patch my armor. She pulled on her overjacket without checking its contents; pain flared from the cut on her rib like the Youth stabbed her again. Can't afford another injury... in and out. She left the apartment. The door automatically locked behind her.
Luciana scanned the dusty-orange streets of the Pucker before walking to the station, a renovated church on the corner half a block away. She leapt the five steps and entered the building.
"Morning, Luci." Sheer sat by the front and buzzed her through the gate.
"Morning Sheer, you see the news?"
"Detritus storm, Chief'll be ecstatic."
A high pitch beep pinged their ENT-inserts and they flicked their OPTO-inserts to the message.
'Briefing at 05:00 sharp,' read the subject line. It was the Chief.
"You going to be at that?" Luciana asked.
"My shift's over in five minutes. Someone will have to fill me in. I'm on day five of this one. Any more eugeroics and I'll be seeing shit." Sheer laughed.
"Lucky bastard."
"Can you brief me?"
Fuck. "I'll try, late shift for me too."
"Thanks. And Luci, put some dirt on your face." Sheer rubbed the air over his bald head. "Chief will know you were hit again with you being this clean."
Luciana tapped her temple and pointed at Sheer as she entered the parish.
The nave-turned-office was an empty grid of twelves desks. The holding cell where the altar once stood lay empty. Surprising. Luciana arrived at her corner desk. The top was spotless and organized, showing no signs of the chaos in her apartment. She hung her jacket over the seatback and pulled her tablet to sync with the police systems.
DUI, DWI, and a DD all outside of Chef Wu's. Not surprising.
Two strong-arm robberies of some artists outside of their lofts on the 1300 block, suspects described as Youths with tattoos of clovers on their necks. Morons probably never even saw a clover in their life and still get it tattooed. If only the group I hunt had such easy markings.
Traffic stop for disabling their pilot program turned violent. Officer Chen and Officer Sheer.
The rest of the report was blank.
Sheer didn't mention that. Luciana turned to the front desk, but Sheer was gone. She shook her head. They're getting more brazen, how long until they start killing cops again?
Erik's brown hair and calming smile projected like a hologram in her mind.
I'll get them, Erik, I'm close. She shoved her tablet into her overjacket and headed for the armory closet in the back of the station.
"Wrong way, Gutierrez." Chief David leaned out of the briefing room. A head taller than she was and dressed immaculately; he still had some of his muscle even after years behind a desk.
Shit. Luciana followed her boss into the room. The rest of the station was already seated around the table. Luciana took a seat in the back beside Maus.
The Chief stood in the front of the room as the wallscreen behind him flickered on with a map of the Bowl. "You saw the news this morning," he said. "A detritus storm is forecasted for the end of the week. It snuck up on us all." He turned to spit but lacked a trashcan.
"Models aren't as good as they used to be, but we'll have to prepare for the weekend." He made eye contact with each officer in the room. "Most of you haven't been in the district during a storm, but rest assured, we will still work. Locals tend to stay indoors."
The Chief gestured to Nguyen's dyed red hair. "But Vice has information the gangs will use the reduced visibility, interference, and hazards to their advantage. Exacts are unknown. Which leads to this week's assignments. Nguyen, I want to know what they're planning."
"Chief, I can't be that forward—" Nguyen started.
"Figure it out," Chief David said.
Nguyen sat back in his chair and folded his arms.
"Junger, Kagan, you two will stop by Wu's and remind him about responsibly serving people. Also remind him that any sort of exaggerant being sold there would need to be taxed appropriately. When you're done with that, canvas your contacts about Youths with clover tattoos on their necks. Database came up empty on that marking.
"Maus, Novina, you'll go to the Transit Authority and ensure that they've prepared for the storm. Once done there, clover tattoos too.
"Sheer and Chen will stay here to change the air filters on the squad cars, bikes, and this building."
Guess we aren't mentioning the traffic incident—
A 'Crimes Against Officers' graph projected on the wall. A spike one year ago followed by a sudden drop and a slow rise as it approached the present.
"This is Central PD's official data, confirming what we all know. It's getting worse out there. Last year"—he gestured towards the spike at the beginning—"they came at us hard. We lost one officer and almost lost another. The Stagger pistols helped dissuade further aggression for a while."
"Since when are we not calling them Scramblers?" Maus whispered to Luciana.
The Chief gestured towards a rising slope. "They figured out we've been banned from using them. But there is good news today. From up on high, one of our officers is getting special training and equipment to turn the tides.
"Gutierrez, that's you. You'll leave tonight to go back to headquarters. Coordinates will be sent to your bike—"
I don't have a bike.
"—It'll know the way. Finish any paperwork or loose ends you have and man the board today. Dismissed."
Officers murmured—
The Chief silenced them with a glare, the other officers leaving without voicing their thoughts.
"I've a case today," Luciana said.
"My orders stand, Gutierrez."
"Sir, can you explain?"
"I cannot. They asked for you and any help we get is a godsend."
Luciana opened her mouth—
"Gutierrez, you may have others fooled here, but I know you lost your ambitions when Anders died."
A lump punched into her throat, her heart pounding against her ENT-inserts.
"You were both top prospects, I was shocked you requested an assignment here." The Chief shook his head. "You can't let a single event, no matter its size, derail your whole life."
Luciana stared at her dusty boots, and the Chief put a hand on her shoulder.
"Running after every gangbanger, being first on the scene, it won't bring him back. It won't fix the hurt." He walked to the door. "Think of this as a vacation. You haven't taken any days since you started anyways. Get your head on straight and come back with their plan."
Luciana sat, tears running down her cheek. I have been reckless, but I can't stop now. She let the emotions ebb and flow against her like the Pacific against the Golden Gate Sea Wall.
When Luciana finally stood, the station was as quiet as it had been in past sermons. Everyone was gone for their shift. She walked to the Board, a desk sized tablet with a chair that housed the computer power for the station. It displayed a map of the Pucker with red dots and names on the streets of everyone working. Sheer and Chen slept in the dorms. Everyone else was on their assignments.
She plugged in her tablet, paperwork preloaded onto the screen, which she promptly deleted. Fuck that. She glanced at the second floor vestry that was her Chief's office. His door was closed. He was on the comm, but the words were indiscernible.
I can get to my overwatch on Guerrero before he notices I'm gone. She walked to the holding cell. The builders had left the cross above the wall. Staring at the condemned. Luciana stepped onto Maus' desk, her dot moved within the station on the Board map. Chief'll see that and he could've set a proximity alarm on me.
She cycled her ENT-insert. "Maus, you there?"
"10-4." Maus' smile was audible.
"What's so funny?"
"I won the bet on how long it took you to figure out you'd been bell'd."
Motherfucker put the alarm on me. "I need you to disable it."
"No can do, G. You're not the one who's seeing Chief for the next few days."
"I've a meeting with a lead."
Maus laughed. "Tell you what, G, you give me the name, place, and message. I'll deliver it for you."
"You'll spook him—"
"G, please."
Damn it. "Super helpful, Maus."
"You've my number if you want to ping me with collection details."
"If you won't let me work, avoid the thirteen-hundreds block near exit West One-A."
Maus sighed. "Put in the Board. I'll bring cameras online, and we can plan a raid after."
"I've vacation, remember?"
"Yeah, after. You're saying it like poison, G. We all know you need a break."
"Need it like a bullet in my head."
"G."
"Sorry, Maus." Luciana stopped by the Interpol receiver. A piece of paper lay in the incoming bin. Surprised this thing still works. "I'll be in touch."
"10-4," Maus said.
Luciana grabbed the Interpol dispatch.
Three Asian Youths, their picture taken as they sprinted along an elevated district. Case details were sparse, no age or name, just purple flower tattoos on their necks.
Idiots. Luciana dropped the dispatch into the waste bin. We've more than enough trouble within the Pucker.
Luciana finished a malty slice of SR-grains warmed by her mug of coffee. Her tenth attempt to unbell herself failed.
"G, you there?" Maus said.
"Yes, status?"
"That was fast. You should be on the Board more. Tell the Chief, Transit Authority won't be ready by Friday if we don't help immediately. They're short staffed. The debris blockers for ramps and tubes are jammed for kilometers around. Novina and I want to stay, we'll blast eugeroics to ensure it's done on time."
"I'll report and get back to you."
"Hey, G," Kagan interrupted. "If you're talking to the Chief, tell him we found information on the clover tattoos. Looks like it's some sort of insert that's grafted onto the skin. Unsure of its origin, use, or manufacturer yet."
"Eavesdropping, Kagan?" Maus asked.
"Left ear is always on comm since... well you know," Kagan said.
Since Erik. Luciana headed for the second floor.
"10-4," Maus said.
Luciana knocked at the Chief's door. He gestured for her to enter, but raised a finger to his lips for silence. The Chief turned back to his window. His office was as neat as he was, you could put the carpet under a microscope and the fibers would be perfectly in line. Behind a glass case by the door lay his polished, distinguished service medal and purple heart from before he joined the police force.
"Barry, it's fucked. No... No, I'm not saying that... Yes, sir." The Chief slashed across his throat as he sat.
"Everything alright, Sir?" Luciana asked.
"Cut the formality, Gutierrez. That call was about you. You're not going to HQ tonight. You're heading to Taketa. Equipment is first, training is second... and that's all I can say. You'll learn more when you arrive there."
"Wh-What?"
"Equipment first, training second. I didn't stutter."
"Paperwork's done and the board's set to my ENT. I need to be unbelled. I've a stakeout."
"And I've a desk."
"Sir?"
"We're listing pointless shit we have?" A smile tickled the edges of his lips.
Motherfucker. She shook her head, remembering why she came here. "Maus says TA won't be ready and they want to stay on to ensure it's done."
"Fine."
"Kagan says clover tattoos look to be grafted inserts."
The chief's eyes widened for a second. "Rains and pours," he said under his breath. He took his tablet and set a forced transmission to everyone's ENT-insert. "10-43," he said.
His broadcast hit Luciana once in the room and a millisecond later in her inserts.
"Effective immediately, assume clover tattooed individuals are armed and dangerous. Stop investigation until you hear from me again. It's outside of our protocols right now." Chief cut the link, turning to her. "Wake Chen and Sheer, have Kagan, Junger, and Nguyen come in. Then pack your gear and go to the garage. Your bike arrived already. Dismissed."
"Chief, I'm close—"
"Luciana, people don't leave this district. If you're close, which your logs don't say, then the shitbags'll be in the burrow you left them. Dismissed."
This is bullshit. Luciana swallowed her words.
The Chief's eyebrows bounced knowingly.
"10-4," Luciana said.
The Chief smiled, and Luciana left his office.
"Kagan, Junger, Nguyen, report back immediately," Luciana said, heading for the exit.
"10-4," returned in unison.
She left her ENT-inserts on the Board's comm and left the station.
A hustle worked through the street's usual hawkers, locals, and vagrants. Everyone wanted supplies before the storm. Luciana entered the dormitories, taking the stairs to Chen and Sheer's apartments. With each police partner being neighbors to one another, Luciana hammered on Sheer's door first. She cycled her OPTO-inserts to the time, 16:03 displayed on the lower right of her vision.
They might not wake up after so many days awake. She used the building's master code to open the door. A breach of etiquette, but the Chief's voice and the strangeness of him telling everyone to report back and stop an investigation spurred her on. The door opened with a whisper and Luciana entered. Sheer's apartment mirrored hers one floor above. She went into the bedroom, finding an empty but made bed. She cycled her inserts to infrared, footprints glowed on the floor to the bathroom.
"Paul, are you in there?" Luciana shouted.
She waited a heartbeat and slid the door open.
Sheer stood naked, brushing his teeth and dancing with antique headphones on his head.
Their eyes met in a steamed mirror.
Sheer screamed, knocking the headphones off. "What the fuck, Gutierrez?!" A retro-dance song blared from his headset.
"I knocked and yelled."
"Can you look away?"
"I'm still on infrared. I can't see anything other than heat mapping."
"You really know how to break a guy down, it's not that small." Sheer laughed and continued brushing his teeth. "Why are you here?"
"Chief wants you back. Something with those clover tattoos, and he's asking for everyone but Maus and Novina to return. You should probably put clothes on." Luciana cycled to visible light and averted her eyes. "I'll get Chen."
"You should knock harder. He probably won't be as happy to get barged in on." Sheer put back on the headphones and started to shave.
Luciana walked out, hitting the hallway and knocking on Chen's door.
It opened instantly.
"I heard," Chen said.
Luciana raised an eyebrow.
Chen answered the unspoken question. "I sleep with my inserts in, set to a white noise. But Sheer yelping triggered a safety, woke me, and focused on it." Behind him, a pistol rested on the desk.
"You good?" She gestured to the gun.
"Yeah. I thought the Clovers or whatever you want to call them had come to finish the job. I was at the door when I heard your voice and stopped. See you at the station." Chen turned and went to change, leaving her to shut the door.
Luciana took the stairs up another flight to her apartment and thumbed in. She grabbed her go-bag, not bothering to check the contents of emergency food, water tablets, undergarments, and overgarments. She reached for her overjacket on the chair, but she'd left it in the station. Too prone to habit. She left her apartment.
Luciana's heel hit the lobby as Chen and Sheer exited the elevator.
"What else did the Chief say?" Chen said.
"Stop investigating and that I am leaving as soon as I get back." She thumbed at her pack.
"These Clovers must be serious," Chen said.
"Clovers?" Sheer asked.
"Yeah, they're obviously organized. What else would we call them?"
Sheer looked at the yellowing sky as they walked back to the station. "Why not call them Leprechauns?"
"Leprechauns aren't real. A clover is a real plant."
"I dunno, I haven't seen either in my life. Besides, it sounds cooler," Sheer said
"Well I have, and clovers are as real as those bastards."
"What happened at that traffic stop?" Luciana said. "The report was empty."
They glanced at one another.
"I was at 12th and Lam," Chen said. "Final patrol of my shift, saw this car swerving in and out of the usual flow. Checked the plates and it didn't have any clearances to self-drive. So I pulled it over."
"We were meeting to do some detail work that night, so I was almost there," Sheer said.
"I was walking up, preparing the usual script," Chen said. "It was a brand new SUV, didn't have any of the Pucker's dirt or grime on it yet. Matte finish, four doors, I assumed it was some bureaucrat who got lost or who wanted to visit the red-light district here without being tracked. I don't remember much after the walk." Chen looked to Sheer.
"I was on the other side of the intersection at the light, watched Mike walk to the car. A pipe or something shot out of the window and hit him on the side of the head. Didn't drop you though, did it, Mikey? You got a hell of a chin." Sheer chuckled. "So Mike stumbled, reached for his pistol or Scrambler, we're both not sure on that one. I hit the lights, siren, and flew through the intersection. Same type of car hit me from the right. Flipped the squad car, webbing went off, so I didn't feel the full impact." Sheer smiled at Luciana. "The glorious white canvas you saw today will be an equally glorious patchwork of pink and purple by tomorrow."
"I told you, I didn't see anything," Luciana said.
"Still breaking me down. The car that had hit Mike was gone," Sheer said. "And the one that hit me was abandoned. Novina came to search the vehicles. I took Mikey to the clinic to get checked out. Novina said that there was nothing in the car. No prints, no DNA, no inserts, no tech, no nothing."
"From my body cam, you can see into the car," Chen said. "Not the back seat, but in the front were two white males, probably seventy kilos each. Their eyes had a weird glare on them, couldn't make out their color on the camera. We think it's an insert to prevent retinal scanning. Didn't see what hit me, just heard that crack of metal on bone." Chen paused at the station's dusty entrance. "Don't have to tell you how weird it is having the events you can't remember on recording."
"I have recordings like those," Sheer said, playing the bongos in front of his groin.
"They're more embarrassing for everyone involved," Chen said.
Luciana coded through the door. "Your jokes are terrible."
Nerves itched her neck, a new emotion for the month. Chen and Sheer bickering like an old couple didn't help.
Sheer looked at her. "I don't hear any zingers from you, Gutierrez."
Luciana didn't have a comeback. "Chief said to meet him upstairs. I'm heading to the garage."
"Leaving?" Sheer asked.
"Yeah," Chen said. "Her new bike arrived last night when you were manning the door. I was hoping it was going to be mine. It looks amazing."
"Oh yeah? Maybe I can go have a peek."
"Chen, Sheer, my office now," the Chief boomed from the balcony overlooking the nave.
"10-4, Chief," they said in unison.
"Good luck." Chen headed to the stairs.
"Seriously, bring back some support"—Sheer's comic front was gone for a moment—"or at least something from the gift shop," he added with a wink.
"G." Chen tossed her the key-FOB from the stairs. "You'll need this."
Luciana grabbed her overjacket and descended the backstairs for the garage. In a perpetually unused parking spot, originally intended for visiting politicians and businessmen, stood the bike.
The body was both purple and green depending on where the light hit, with odd angled sides adding to the effect through diamond shaped patches of the opposite color. The bike was stretched and about a meter shorter than a cruiser, but had the standard gyrocycle clearance and width.
I see what impressed Chen. Am I going to Taketa or the moon?
Its body entirely enclosed, it wasn't obvious where she would sit. She pulled out the key fob. Taketa engraved on the bottom and a groove over the top. She put her thumb in the depression and electricity pricked her skin as it scanned her print.
The bike came to life. Its black windshield slid backwards against the body, while the odd angled sides slid into the bike itself. There were no visible seams on the vehicle. She cycled through to infrared and no discernible heat wavered off it. The cockpit was a lean forward style, allowing her to stow her pack behind the saddle. She sat inside, the bike's hum rose through her torso. The sides and top slid back into place, forcing her chest to touch the chassis. Momentarily in darkness, the shudder door rose within the garage. The heads-up display lit with the face of an Asian woman in her thirties.
"Welcome, Luciana Gutierrez. We're excited and honored you've agreed to be a part of our program."
"Program? Who are you?"
"Please do not be alarmed," the voice continued, now obviously a recording. "This bike has been pre-programmed with the route and will make it there in record time. You don't need to lean as the internal gyroscope will keep the optimal angle. Try to relax, it is entirely safe!"
Shit I don't want to hear. Luciana twisted against the contorted lean forward of the preferred rider's shape. "Open canopy."
The bike's engine and probable gyroscope hummed against her chest as the gate opened.
Should have gone without body armor— The bike launched forward, throwing Luciana into her seat and her stomach against the chassis. The bike pivoted onto rundown streets at heart racing speeds.
Luciana swallowed. "Record time indeed."
***
The full story is available on Amazon here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZK3KBZJ
I hope you enjoy :)