Friction Page 2

  “Authorized by who?”

  The assassin trembled. “Wesley Pennfield.”

  It was always shady down in the slums, down on the long narrow streets that made curving paths between skyscrapers so tall you could barely see the tops. Sometimes, Leo wondered who was up there.

  The streets were just wide enough for three or four people to walk side by side, the tall buildings pressed so close together that they cut off the light. The only time you got any real illumination was noon. There was trash all over the place, wrappers and cans strewn across the black pavement with wild abandon. The people who lived in these tenements were beaten down. They no longer cared enough to pick up after themselves.

  Leo felt his mouth tighten, staring down at the ground. “Hope you're all having a good laugh.” He looked up, squinting at the buildings. “Any of you ever wander down here, and you won't laugh much longer.”

  A man of average height with a lean build, he wore a pair of ratty gray pants and a dark sweater with stains on the back. It had belonged to his cousin Rax and to some other kid before him.

  The poor had hand-me-downs.

  Leo frowned, turning his face up to the sky. He blinked. “You gonna make good on all your promises?” he asked of the Lord Above. “You gonna deliver us from evil? Or is that a lie too.”

  No answer.

  The street ended in intersection where another narrow lane ran from east to west. This one actually managed to catch a bit of late afternoon sunlight. Most streets down here ran from north to south.

  He wondered if that was deliberate. There were no vehicles down in the slums, only foot traffic. Roads didn't need to be organized in anything resembling an efficient pattern. That was another form of institutional violence. Make it practically impossible for people to get around, and you created an underclass. Some members of the Social Justice League were petitioning Parliament for improvements to the local infrastructure and new housing projects that would allow the poor to transition to better living conditions. Somehow, they never got built.

  He turned down a side street, suddenly assaulted by the bright yellow light of a rising sun that stood high in the western sky. He had come out early. Well, it might be better to say that he had come out late.

  Leo raised a hand to shield himself, squinting into the distance. “This had better be worth it, Lars,” he said, shaking his head. “You drag me out here when the Black Boots are working up the nerve to come into this neighbourhood.”

  He started forward.

  Frowning to himself, Leo kept his head down and studied the ground beneath his feet. Bastard says he has a problem, he thought, eyebrows rising. Says only the crew's leader can work it out.

  Tall tenements rose up on either side of him, red-bricked buildings with thin slits for windows, each one more gloomy than the last. This street was cleaner. He found no trash here. Cleaning crews were a little more willing to attend to roadways that weren't bathed in gloom, and this one stretched on for several blocks before ending at the foot of a tall building that cast a long shadow.

  A quick walk down a street to his left, and another turn to his right brought him to a set of concrete steps that led down to a door that would open into a basement. Lars had set up shop here.

  Leo descended.

  He knocked and paused for a minute to study his silhouette in the small window. Blinds prevented him from seeing inside, but the sound of crying was audible even out here. Anger flared up. Crying meant noise and that meant attention-

  The door opened inward.

  A gaunt-cheeked man with tanned skin poked his head through the crack and then blinked. “Leo…” he whispered, glancing back over his shoulder. “Shut up, Gia! I told you to keep quiet!”

  Leo frowned and looked up at the other man. He arched a thin, blonde eyebrow. “If there's a problem,” he began. “She was your responsibility.”

  A blush put some colour in Lars's cheeks, and he bowed his head to stare down at his shoes. “Yeah, I know,” he said, nodding. “Just get in here, would you? Maybe you'll be able to talk some sense into her.”

  Leo stepped inside.

  He found himself in a small apartment with white floor tiles and an ugly steel pole that ran from floor to ceiling in the middle of the room. A bed was positioned up against the wall. Just a mattress on a metal frame, really.

  The young woman who sat with her knees together kept her head down, refusing to show him her face. “I'm sorry…” she sobbed. “Lars, baby, I'm sorry. I know now, and I'll never do it again.”

  “Do what?”

  Lars winced at the question, scrunching up his face as he backed away. He clapped a hand onto the top of his head. “She kept some money back,” he muttered. “Hid it from me and Raelo.”

  “Is that so?”

  Gia looked up at him with tears on her inflamed face, trying to blink them away. “I needed a little extra,” she said. “For food.”

  Pressing his lips together, Leo felt a surge of heat that must have painted his face crimson. “I pay you enough to eat,” he said, his eyebrows climbing. “You been spending your money on Bliss, Gia?”

  “No.”

  “Don't lie to me.”

  Clenching her teeth, she let her head hang and sobbed, waves of long brown hair dangling into her lap. “I'm sorry,” she said, trembling. “Look, I just needed a little extra this month. That's all.”

  “Oh, is that all?”

  Leo started forward with his hands in his pockets, keeping his gaze fixed upon the floor. “Well, if you've learned your lesson,” he said with a shrug. “I suppose I can let you off with a stern warning.”

  She looked up at him, confusion evident in her expression. No one ever got off with a stern warning. You took from the communal pot and you suffered for it. Those were the rules. “Leo…”

  He back-handed her across the chin with enough force to turn her face away. Gia stiffened, groaning. “You really are stupid, aren't you?” Leo growled. “Let me clarify your role in all this. You spread your legs, you take the money and you give it to Lars here so that he can manage it.”

  “I'm sorry!”

  Seizing a handful of the whore's shirt, he pulled her to her feet, then flung her down onto the floor. She landed stretched out on her belly. Placing a foot on her back drove the point home. Leo wasn't big on subtext.

  His face crumpled as he shook his head. “We're all a family down here, Gia,” he said, bending over. “One of us starts hoarding and the rest of us go hungry. Is that what you want?”

  “I… I… I…”

  “You what?”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Useless,” Leo muttered. When he turned, he found Lars standing by the wall with his arms folded, refusing to look at the sobbing woman. The guy had always been soft. So he had called Leo down here for a simple bit of discipline that he really should have handled himself. “Absolutely useless.”

  “She brings in good money,” Lars said.

  “I wasn't talking about her.”

  Thrusting his chin out, Leo sneered at the other man. He shook his head, choosing his next words with great care. “You never did quite fit in here, Lars,” he began. “So, it's your lucky day. You're out.”

  Lars stared at him with his mouth wide open. “I'm out,” he said, growing paler by the second. “Leo, think about this for a moment. I've always had your back. You'd be lost without me.”

  “Not the words I'd use.”

  Pale as a ghost, Lars turned his head and stared at the whimpering Gia. That was when it all clicked. Leo understood why the other man had been unwilling to discipline his subordinate. “You like her, don't you,” he said. “Does she snuggle up to you at night? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Does she tell you that you're the only man who can satisfy her?”

  It was so obvious he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier. Of course, that didn't stop the other man from denying it. “Shut up,” Lars hissed. “Just shut up!”

  “Take her,” Leo sa
id, jerking his head toward the woman. He couldn't keep a self-satisfied smile off his face. “Have yourself a real good day, man. Do all the things you've always wanted to do. Come night, you're gone.”

  The look of shock on Lars's face only stoked his anger. He despised weakness, his own more than that of the other man. He should have removed this pathetic wretch from his crew months ago. “You go south, Lars,” he said. “You know what that means.”

  Passing through the neighbourhoods south of here meant going into Bloody Nails territory. For a guy like Lars, that may as well have been a death sentence. It should have been a death sentence.

  Gia had stopped crying long enough to stare up at Lars with those big brown eyes of hers. Perhaps she had been unaware of the depth of his affection. Pity that. If a man had to die, he should at least spend some time in a woman's embrace.

  “Go.”

  Lars offered her a tight-mouthed frown, then nodded. “Good-bye,” he said softly, striding past Leo. Apparently he was eager to begin his exile. Not even willing to have a little fun with the girl first.

  Soft.

  Gia got to her feet.

  She wiped tears off her face, then turned her back on Leo and padded barefoot into the tiny bathroom. He decided to let her go. The woman did bring in enough money, and he was convinced she had learned her lesson.

  Rage filled him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. After everything he did for his crew – all the sacrifices he made – they failed them in every way imaginable. Why did he always have to be the strong one?

  Leo…

  He should have put Garvin in charge of the girls; that man was not the sort to let infractions slide, and he wouldn't call Leo down here to address a matter that could be solved with a few quick flicks of a belt strap.

  Leo.

  This was all-

  LEO!

  Leo tilted his head back, blinking up at the ceiling. “Who's there?” he said, getting to his feet. “Come out here!”

  I've come in answer to your prayers, Leo.

  The blood drained out of his face. Pressing a palm to his forehead, Leo moaned. “This isn't funny.” The steadiness in his voice was a shock. “Whoever you are, let me see your face.”

  You asked if I would deliver your people from evil, Leo. I will not. But you will. If you let me make you strong.

  The Almighty? Was he actually hearing the voice of the Lord Above in the back of his mind? Each syllable was like a caress that made every nerve in his body tingle, but he could not believe it.

  Clenching his teeth, Leo snarled down at the floor. He hissed, spit flying from his mouth. “The Almighty is a myth!” he bellowed. “If you want to fight me, then let's get it done already!”

  Why would I fight you?

  Turning around, he found nothing but an empty apartment. There were chips in the white-plastered walls, places where the paint was peeling. The small kitchen on the other side of the room was empty.

  So far as his eyes could tell, he was alone. That did nothing to kill the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. Shivers ran down his spine like droplets of water from an icy shower. “Where are you?”

  Everywhere.

  Staring down at the floor, Leo felt a shiver pass through him. He shuddered. “What do you want with me?” he asked, pacing across the room. “What do you want with me? Answer me, damn it!”

  To make you strong.

  The door to the bathroom opened.

  He turned around to find Gia standing there with her mouth open, her face as pale as the purest snow. “Who are you talking to?” she asked, shaking her head. “Leo, there's no one else here.”

  Kill her.

  “But-”

  She thinks you're mad. Well, given the circumstances, Leo couldn't argue with her. She thinks you're weak, Leo. Breaking under the pressure. Kill her before she tells your crew what she saw.

  He was across the room in seconds, clamping hands onto Gia's neck. She stared up at him with eyes that looked ready to bulge out, her face growing paler and paler as she gasped. At one point, she clamped her hands onto his wrists and tried to pull free of his grip. It did no good. He was stronger.

  Gia opened her mouth to draw in more breath, her face turning purple now. She made an ugly croaking noise before going silent at long last. Her body went limp in his arms. Dead.

  Leo dropped her.

  The corpse landed on its side, spread out across the white-tiled floor. He had killed a woman. In three years of running this crew, he had never killed not once. He had beaten men senseless, taken their money, but never killed.

  It gave him pause to realize that he was strangely comfortable with what he'd done. Gia had always had a little too much nerve for his liking. Now, he would never have to deal with her insolence again.

  Good. Now I have work for you.

  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Leo shut his eyes. He grunted, stifling his dissatisfaction. “What sort of work?” he inquired. “More importantly, what do you offer in return? I'm no one's servant.”

  I will make you strong, Leo, strong enough to destroy your enemies. And in return, you will destroy my enemies. A ship awaits to take you to Leyrian Space.

  “Leyrian Space?”

  He'd heard of Leyria, of course. Every child on his world had learned the tales of the despots who enslaved their people. “Leyrian Space is on the other side of the galaxy,” Leo said. “The exact opposite side of the galaxy. It would take even the fastest ships over eighteen months to get there.”

  Have faith, my child, the voice replied. Have faith.

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  “And I do my little turn on the catwalk,” Jack said.

  The proverbial catwalk that overlooked a warehouse full of stolen goods, up high near the ceiling. On the floor below, metal crates were spread out in a haphazard pattern, and unless he missed his guess, each one was filled with loot.

  Venturing a glance over the railing offered him a glimpse of men in dark flannel shirts moving among the crates. He counted half a dozen, and at least three of them were carrying pistols.

  Biting his lower lip, Jack looked around. He felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Well, the décor needs some work,” he whispered. “But it's doable. Throw up a few paintings and call it home.”

  He crouched low on the catwalk with a pistol in hand, creeping along until he was nearly halfway across. “Still with me back there?” he asked in a soft voice. “You're not thinking of backing out, are you?”

  Ben Loranai was crouched behind him, head bowed to reveal a forest of thin black spikes that he called hair. “Still with you,” he said, looking up. The man had a round face with features that would have been called 'Asian' if he had been born on Earth. Of course, he had not been born on Earth. He was Leyrian. “What's the plan?”

  Jack pressed his back to the metal wall that bordered the catwalk. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he formulated a plan. They had come in through the large window in the second-floor office. One of the advantages to Bending gravity was a very long list of interesting ways to crash a party.

  Of course, that left him with a tingling sensation in his skin. The talent for Bending gravity was a gift that came from bonding a Nassai, one of the aliens that had evolved on Leyria's primary moon. Summer – his symbiont – had been a devoted friend for almost three years now.

  Jack smiled, glancing over his shoulder. He blinked. “We've got about half a dozen goons,” he said, jerking his head toward the railing. “What say you make with the boom boom and I do a clean sweep?”

  Ben offered a tiny smile, a faint curling of his lips. He looked down into his lap and sighed. “Gonna be dangerous,” he said softly. “Are you sure it's smart for you to go down there alone?”

  “I don't go anywhere alone.” Jack lifted the pistol in his gloved hand, pointing the barrel up to the ceiling. No matter where he went, Summer was there with him. The best friend a guy could ask for. “Stun rounds.”

 
The LEDs on his pistol's barrel turned blue. He carefully slid the gun back into its holster. He would need both hands for what came next. At his nod, Ben began Operation Distract the Baddies.

  Raising the multi-tool strapped to the gauntlet on his right wrist, he began tapping away at the screen with his left. “Okay, I'm ready,” Ben said, nodding. “Just give me the word when you want to start.”

  “Now.”

  Ben thrust his right arm over the railing, the multi-tool spitting out a cone of blue light that resolved into the image of a figure in black. It was transparent – not all that useful if you wanted to distract someone with skill – but more than enough to spook a bunch of low-lives.

  The multi-tool made a sound like gunfire.

  Jack took a gander over the railing to find men in flannel shirts and hoodies making their way through aisles between crates. Two lifted pistols in both hands and began firing at the hologram.

  The transparent man landed on the top of a metal crate and began running across its surface. He turned to fire imaginary pistols at the criminals. If any of their bullets hit him, they passed right through. With any luck, they all assumed the transparency was another side effect of using Keeper abilities. Keepers generated more rumors than Bieber, Gomez and Cyrus put together.

  A new guy emerged from a door on the far wall, this one carrying a Kalashnikov of all things. He dropped to one knee, raising the assault rifle, and let loose with a storm of gunfire.

  A hulking bouncer wannabe in faded jeans and a black t-shirt was standing alone in an aisle that ran from left to right from Jack's perspective. Trapped between two crates, he stared up at the phantom. This guy had no weapon. We'll start with him.

  Jack twisted gravity.

  He leaped over the railing and flew with his arms outstretched, slowly descending toward his target. Bent gravity made it feel as though he were falling forward, his belly twisted in knots.

  The man spun around at the last second.

  Jack seized him by the shoulders and forced him down onto his back, rising into a handstand over the man's body. He flipped upright to find himself staring at the side of one very large crate.