'Jimmy!' I shout, but my cerebellum's already hit the kill switch, my body firing off its fight or flight response. 'Arrgh!' I say, recognising the man from the market but still thrashing and hitting anyway. 'Get the hell off me!'
'Alright, alright,' Jimmy shouts, patting himself down as he gets to his feet. 'Chill out, man.'
'Chill out?' I gasp, incredulous. 'You just attacked me.'
'Nah, man, I just saved you.' He laughs to himself. 'You were about to take an unshielded call.'
'A what?'
'Over your headface.' Jimmy watches me, then sighs. 'Honestly, finehands, you tryin' to win awards for being slow? An unshielded call is from an unverified source. Could be a bad actor. Someone pretending to be someone else, you dig?'
'And how do you know this?'
'Ha!' Jimmy points and laughs. 'Do you think I run my headface on the same kiddie systems they hand newbies like you?' He tuts. 'Come on, man. Get real.'
'I wasn't arguing they we—'
'Everything I run,' he says, overriding me, 'from oculars to wetware, I keep on an old OS.' His eyes sparkle. 'Why go through life with a hundred-word vocabulary, right? Especially when I can get you one with a hundred thousand.'
'Uh-huh.' I nod, getting the contrast. 'Doesn't sound like much of a contest.'
Jimmy grins. 'Exactly. It's all about the low-tech, man. That's why I can see well beyond what Control thinks I can.'
I remember the brisk trade Jimmy turned over in The Cut. 'No wonder your goods are in such demand.'
He nods, brushing off his coat.
'But what are you doing here?'
Jimmy shoots me a fixed glare. 'I could ask you the same question.'
My mouth is dry. I swallow, but the complexity of it all feels impossible to explain. 'I... Elise.'
'Oh, you know Elise? Good. Me too.'
'You do?' His tone buys me time. 'How come?'
'Finehands,' he says, tapping his temple like it contains a hidden stash of tobacco, 'like I told you when I sold you the ocular. This shit is real for me, so don't go mistaking me for some part-timer! I know these guys.' He gestures around. 'And truth is, well, places like this usually have good customers.'
'Ah, so this is a business trip.' I glance at the strange murals, the slogans smeared across neo-futurist walls. 'And these Ascension people... are they religious?'
'God, no.' Jimmy frowns. 'It's all just a front. New-age starchild rubbish, all a story to keep the authorities off their backs.' He glances toward the main hall, then stops, face tightening. 'Did they see you come in?'
'Y... yeah,' I say, remembering the weird scene outside. 'Felt like a setup, to be honest. But I don't know for who.'
Jimmy rolls his eyes: Please.
'Did Kapo do this?' I say. I wave at the smoke in the air. Point my finger down the corridor to the next door.
He holds up a finger. Then, over the headface: Can you read this?
I nod.
Good. Use this encrypted feed, Jimmy texts. At least until we're inside the nave. Thick panelling up top. No one can hear us talk there.
OK, I reply.
We cover our mouths with our hands and round the corner.
The smell hits first. Not just rot but scorched fabric, together with melted plastic, and a chemical tang of blood and ash that immediately stings my throat. Light from the orbs on the street outside spills through broken windows, striping the rubble-strewn floor while shadows stretch between splintered pews and collapsed trusses.
'Careful,' Jimmy says.
When I look over, he points up above.
A neon mural flickers overhead. Behind it, chunks of the ceiling have fallen. And to my right, beneath a beam, a pale arm juts out. It is not clear who it belongs to.
I turn my head. A blood smear arcs across the white composite, blackened in the half light.
'Shit!'
Drag marks lead nowhere while bullet holes pock the walls in tight clusters. Some blackened, some still raw with dust.
Near the altar, a shattered display blinks and glitches with messages about the next ascension session. And among the debris, I spot a tattooed wrist, while another hand pokes from under what would have been a fake pulpit.
Blue nails on cracked fingertips.
Whatever happened here, it was fast. Brutal. Deliberate.
'What is all this?' I ask when I have turned away and regained the ability to speak. I gag. 'The Ultras? IDA? Some kind of turf war?'
Jimmy makes a pained wince.
'Please.' He takes a tin from his pocket and pulls out a roll-up, lights it. Then taps away the ash as plumes of smoke flow from his mouth and nostrils. 'No, this is just the people we pay our taxes to,' he says, gesturing to the sky. 'Excuse me.' He spits into the rubble.
'You mean the Kapo did this?'
He straightens. 'Uh-huh. Like it'd be anyone else.'
'When?'
'From the looks of things, and from reports I'm getting from municipal sensors around the building, three hours ago.'
'No!' I say. So, since I got back from work. Since Manni spoke to me in the lift. Since my shower, and Det's anger about his wife...
'How could they justify--'
'Finehands, they don't even try,' Jimmy says, and it is now that I see his bottom teeth are yellow. 'I mean, they used to try... once. Used to wheel out the usual lines. Terrorism, whatever. Sometimes they'd drop a few casts over the areas and try to program us with broadcasts. But that was back when people gave a damn.'
'And they don't these days?'
Jimmy shrugs. 'People just want to get through the day.'
'OK, so why kill these people then? Why execute in such a blind and reckless fashion?'
Jimmy grips my shoulder. 'Because, finehands, these fine people were thinking for themselves. Not buying the rhetoric, not drinking the Kool-Aid.' He looks over the scene again. 'Control wanted to send everyone a message and show everyone what happens when you choose to go against the grain.'
'But why now,' I ask, as if in protest. 'They could have done this at any point in the past.'
'Probably, sure.'
'So, why do it now?'
Jimmy holds my gaze. 'But you know why, finehands.'
I feel my mouth dry again. 'I do?'
'Yes, you do.' Jimmy smiles, and what he says next haunts me for the rest of my days. 'Or you should do.' When I look bemused, he continues. 'The rig technician with the fine hands that look like they've never worked a day in their life before.'
'Look, Jimmy,' I say, smiling weakly. 'Like I've already told you, I've been partitioned. So you're going to need to fill me in--'
'The very same guy,' Jimmy continues, 'who is suddenly prancing around The Cut with muscle-boosted freaks that no one has ever seen before.'
'Hold on, what do you mean? No one's ever seen who before?'
Jimmy nods, and now I feel like it is me who is playing for time.
'I don't understand.'
'I do.'
And so now, I am thinking about the night in question.
'When I was going to the party with Manni, Hal and Juan? You were watching then?'
'I was.'
'Why?'
'You should be more careful of who you hang around with, Rene.'
I look him in the eye, and he is being solemn.
'S…so, if you had concerns, why did you sell me the ocular yesterday?'
'Because I was going on the information I had at the time.' Jimmy looks rueful. 'But then I started reviewing events over the last few days.' He taps his temple, and for a moment, I'm not sure if he is referring to his old tech or just his gut and intuition.
I steel myself as the distant roar of the stadium drifts in. From the sounds of it, Control Kinetics are a goal in front.
'What did you find out?' I ask, steeling my stomach.
'Are you in contact with them now?'
I look at Jimmy with a useless expression.
'Finehands, shit.' He studies me closely. 'Or Tilo, or Rene, or whatever your name is. How are you still alive? I mean, in an age of ID tags, neural partitions, constant tracking, the Confederate sends you? No offence, but...'
'OK, OK,' I say, locking eyes with him. 'Just cut to the chase! Is Manni Xhakia responsible for all of this?' I ask, trying to keep Jimmy's scatter-gun mind trained on one target.
Jimmy sighs, then looks me in the eye and nods.
'What?' I hold my hands to my head. 'But he can't be! He told me he's a freedom fighter.'
Jimmy smiles. 'I'm sure he says a lot of things. To a lot of people, too. The thing is, though, when I saw him the other night, he did look familiar. And that is when I realised. He's one of the chiefs in Control Security, like high up in their secret services, you know?'
I hear myself make useless gasping sounds.
'I know because I did some intel on him once, on behalf of someone who has long since been murdered. So, yeah, Manni Xhakia. From the looks of things, one of Control's top men has been tasked with bringing you in.'
I lean against the wall and dry retch.
'Someone here will have footage if you don't believe me,' Jimmy says, as if hes trying to find me a good weather report.
'Urgh,' I say, red-eyed between convulsions. 'Proof that Elise's dead?'
'Not just that,' Jimmy says, lighting another smoke. 'Proof that Manni did it. If you need confirmation. Or if you have cognitive dissonance--'
'Fine,' I say, blurting it out because now my head is filling with memories of Janine and now I'm questioning if any of that briefing was actually real. 'Do it,' I say, my decision firming. I need more than hearsay now.
'You can pay?'
I don't have many pseudos left, but it doesn't matter. 'If you find the footage.'
Jimmy smiles and rubs his hands together. 'Good! And I need a new ocular anyway. Hey, what's the matter?'
'Oh, I dunno,' I say, and for a moment, I want to ask Jimmy if he is being serious. 'Just that I'm an undercover agent and still don't know what's going on.'
'Yeah,' Jimmy says, with an uneasy sense of regret, 'they sure did a good job partitioning you when they sent you over. But hey! At least you can still use your gut.'
I look at him quizzically.
'So what's it telling you, finehands?'
'Oh man,' I say. My heart's hammering. 'That I need to get back to my apartment. Oh no!'
'What, what?'
'The contacts... the mentats.'
'Yes?'
Manni has the list. But I can't tell Jimmy that. I run my hands through my hair as all the blood leaves my face, and my head feels dizzy. 'I need to get to that taxi.'
Jimmy nods gravely. 'I understand.'
I burst forward, towards the door. Thankfully, the Amberlite is still waiting. I turn back to face Jimmy and scan his ID. 'Can I contact you over headface?'
Jimmy shakes his head. 'You think I'm that dumb? No. Here, use this.'
A small icon of a cartoon donkey mask appears nested in the corner of my overlay. When I gaze over it, I see the description: Encrypted link. 'You can use it anytime.'
From where I am now, it feels like a genuine lifeline. 'Thanks.'
'Where are you going, finehands?'
'I need to get back to Machine,' I say, but really I just need to get away. Lie down and strategise some kind of way out of this thing.
Jimmy watches me with something that looks like sadness. 'I'll send the footage,' he says as I get in the Amberlite. But he could be saying anything. All that is running through my head is what he said about Manni.
'Oh, you're still alive,' says the gene-hack when I get back inside. 'I was about to call those Kapo and tell them to come extract my fare.'
'Get me back to Machine,' I instruct the cab driver, amazed he bothered to wait. His ID tag names him Earl. 'You just secured a double fare.'
'Oh, well, don't forget it's rush hour,' Earl says gleefully. 'So, you know... any double fee is double.'
'Whatever.'
I slump into the headrest. Jimmy says he'll send the footage, and part of me already knows what I'll see. As we rise to join the skyway, though, the waiting feels unbearable, like every second wraps me tighter around a hook. At the same time, most of me would rather die than face the truth.
The towers lean past the window, warped rooftops sliding away beneath us. My head spins, and every heartbeat feels like it could be my last. I tell myself I'm thinking, strategising, working out a way forward, but the reality is anything but. I'm just sitting here, broken and useless, watching the city tilt under the Amberlite's slow bank for home.
If this is shock, then it's the kind you don't come back from.
Thanks for checking out Hard Lines. To track the whole story so far, please visit the Serials page on Beyond Colossus. The last chapter drops tomorrow.