find this bomber.”
“Right, and that’s you?” He snickered. “What’re you going to use, your compass?”
I was struggling to keep my hands from curling into fists when Zhaff tapped me on the arm. “Malcolm Graves,” he said. “We are wasting time.”
“Who the fuck is this thing?” Trevor asked.
Before I could say anything Zhaff stepped forward, Pervenio badge shining under the lights of the security headquarters. “I am Malcolm Graves’s assigned partner.”
Trevor looked like he was going to burst out in laughter. “Wow. Never thought I’d see the day the great Malcolm Graves became a babysitter. They must really be pissed at you.” He leaned in, his crooked smile so close to me I could rip it off his face with one motion. “Or maybe they’re just getting tired of watching your wrinkles get deeper.”
My hand hovered over my pistol. I glared straight into his blue eyes, my blood boiling. A younger version of myself might not have been able to show such self-restraint. “Watch it, Trevor, or I’ll shove my pistol so far down your throat you’ll be shitting bullets.”
He backed away, still smirking. “That how they taught collectors to use them in your day, old man? I wouldn’t want you to waste any lessons on me with your new partner right here.”
I took a deep breath and allowed my hand to fall away from my holster. “You’re lucky there’s work to be done or I’d give you one,” I said as I shoved past him. Zhaff followed me wordlessly.
“I’m all ears, Graves!” he shouted as I walked away. “I’ll tell you what: After I find the bomber I’ll use the credits to buy you a cane. You can teach your new pet a hell of a lot with that!”
I stopped and started to turn around, but when Zhaff walked by me I decided against it. Causing more issues with Venta Co would only infuriate Director Sodervall more. That was the last thing I needed. I swallowed my pride and continued on. Trevor had a problem with pushing people too far, and I had little doubt he’d get his one day.
“I’ll beat you with it,” I grumbled under my breath.
“What was that, Malcolm Graves?” Zhaff asked, completely calm.
“Next time keep your mouth shut,” I said to him. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 6
Never had I seen the gridded streets of New London so vacant during the daytime. Garbage from the M-day festivities drifted aimlessly across the streets, and most of the outdoor activity came from USF patrols policing the city. Even the homeless were nowhere to be seen. Security hover-cars flitted high across the skyline, their bright spotlights sweeping across the faces of buildings and plunging down dark alleys.
The New London rail station where Zhaff and I were headed was the only place that appeared busy with pedestrian foot traffic. Enhanced security had the inspection line stretching out past the entrance of the station. Citizens living beyond the city limits were desperately trying to get out of New London before anything else went wrong. A portion of the northern platform had of course been knocked out by the explosion, but all the others remained operational.
“I’ve never seen the streets this empty,” I said to Zhaff. “On M-day no less. What a shame.”
The nightlife in New London usually couldn’t hold a torch to that of offworld colonies. True, Earthers, in general, were a conservative bunch. On most nights you could barely spot anyone on the streets after midnight unless they were up to no good. M-day was different. Revelry would rock the city, and lights would be shining until the sun rose the next morning; until citizens’ stomachs were turning and their eardrums were ringing. Presently, I could barely hear the soft beat of music emanating from indoor bars and clubs. Security was making sure none of it spread outside.
“It continues inside,” Zhaff responded. “It will be easier to monitor there.”
“It’s still strange to see,” I said. I glanced over at Zhaff and
“Right, and that’s you?” He snickered. “What’re you going to use, your compass?”
I was struggling to keep my hands from curling into fists when Zhaff tapped me on the arm. “Malcolm Graves,” he said. “We are wasting time.”
“Who the fuck is this thing?” Trevor asked.
Before I could say anything Zhaff stepped forward, Pervenio badge shining under the lights of the security headquarters. “I am Malcolm Graves’s assigned partner.”
Trevor looked like he was going to burst out in laughter. “Wow. Never thought I’d see the day the great Malcolm Graves became a babysitter. They must really be pissed at you.” He leaned in, his crooked smile so close to me I could rip it off his face with one motion. “Or maybe they’re just getting tired of watching your wrinkles get deeper.”
My hand hovered over my pistol. I glared straight into his blue eyes, my blood boiling. A younger version of myself might not have been able to show such self-restraint. “Watch it, Trevor, or I’ll shove my pistol so far down your throat you’ll be shitting bullets.”
He backed away, still smirking. “That how they taught collectors to use them in your day, old man? I wouldn’t want you to waste any lessons on me with your new partner right here.”
I took a deep breath and allowed my hand to fall away from my holster. “You’re lucky there’s work to be done or I’d give you one,” I said as I shoved past him. Zhaff followed me wordlessly.
“I’m all ears, Graves!” he shouted as I walked away. “I’ll tell you what: After I find the bomber I’ll use the credits to buy you a cane. You can teach your new pet a hell of a lot with that!”
I stopped and started to turn around, but when Zhaff walked by me I decided against it. Causing more issues with Venta Co would only infuriate Director Sodervall more. That was the last thing I needed. I swallowed my pride and continued on. Trevor had a problem with pushing people too far, and I had little doubt he’d get his one day.
“I’ll beat you with it,” I grumbled under my breath.
“What was that, Malcolm Graves?” Zhaff asked, completely calm.
“Next time keep your mouth shut,” I said to him. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 6
Never had I seen the gridded streets of New London so vacant during the daytime. Garbage from the M-day festivities drifted aimlessly across the streets, and most of the outdoor activity came from USF patrols policing the city. Even the homeless were nowhere to be seen. Security hover-cars flitted high across the skyline, their bright spotlights sweeping across the faces of buildings and plunging down dark alleys.
The New London rail station where Zhaff and I were headed was the only place that appeared busy with pedestrian foot traffic. Enhanced security had the inspection line stretching out past the entrance of the station. Citizens living beyond the city limits were desperately trying to get out of New London before anything else went wrong. A portion of the northern platform had of course been knocked out by the explosion, but all the others remained operational.
“I’ve never seen the streets this empty,” I said to Zhaff. “On M-day no less. What a shame.”
The nightlife in New London usually couldn’t hold a torch to that of offworld colonies. True, Earthers, in general, were a conservative bunch. On most nights you could barely spot anyone on the streets after midnight unless they were up to no good. M-day was different. Revelry would rock the city, and lights would be shining until the sun rose the next morning; until citizens’ stomachs were turning and their eardrums were ringing. Presently, I could barely hear the soft beat of music emanating from indoor bars and clubs. Security was making sure none of it spread outside.
“It continues inside,” Zhaff responded. “It will be easier to monitor there.”
“It’s still strange to see,” I said. I glanced over at Zhaff and
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