real name on the wild chance that he was too naive to have used a fake. 'He was supposed to meet me here. Bet he overslept.'
Her face relaxed a bit, her smile more genuine. 'Of course.' She shrugged, relaxing. 'Doesn't he always? I usually see him later on. Like noon.' And she laughed a familiar and comfortable 'we're all friends' laughter.
He was using his real name. Aman sipped some more of the juice, wanting to shake his head. Little kid with his head under the friendly sofa cushions. A figure emerged from a small, square block of a house nearly invisible beneath a huge tangle of kiwi and kudzu vines and headed their way, walking briskly, his hand-woven, natural-dyed tunic as noticeable as a bright balloon on this street. Loose drawstring pants woven of some tan fiber and the string of carved beads around his neck might as well have been a neon arrow pointing. 'Ha, there he is,' Aman said, and the woman's glance and smile confirmed his guess. Aman waited until the runner's eyes were starting to sweep his way, then stepped quickly forward. 'Daren, it's been forever.' He threw his arms around the kid, hugging him like a long-lost brother, doing a quick cheek-kiss that allowed him to hiss into the shocked kid's ear, 'Act like we're old friends and maybe the feds wont get you. Don't blow this.'
The kid stiffened, panic tensing all his muscles, fear sweat sour in Aman's nostrils. For a few seconds, the kid thought it over. Then his muscles relaxed all at once, so much so that Aman's hands tightened instinctively on his arms. He started to tremble.
'Come on. Let's take a walk,' Aman said. 'I'm not here to bust you.'
'Let me get some juice…'
'No.' Aman's thumb dug into the nerve plexus in his shoulder and the kid gasped. 'Walk.' He twisted the kid around and propelled him down the street, away from the little juice kiosk, his body language suggesting two old friends out strolling, his arm companionably over the kid's shoulder, hiding the kid's tension with his own body, thumb exerting just enough pressure on the nerve to remind the kid to behave. 'You are leaving a trail a blind infant could follow,' he said conversationally, felt the kid's jerk of reaction.
'I'm not chipped.' Angry bravado tone.
'You don't need to be chipped. That just slows the search down a few hours. You went straight from the hack- doc to here, walked through the Belt because you couldn't take the rail, you buy juice at this stand every day, and you bought those pants two blocks up the street, from the lady who sells clothes out of her living room. Want me to tell you what had for dinner last night, too?'
'Oh, Goddess,' he breathed.
'Spare me.' Aman sighed. 'Why do they want you? You blow something up? Plant a virus?'
'Not us. Not the Gaiists.' He jerked free of Aman's grip with surprising strength, fists clenched. 'That's all a lie. I don't know why they want me. Yeah, they're claiming bioterrorism, but I didn't do it. There wasn't any virus released where they said it happened. How can they do that? Just make something up?' His voice had gone shrill. 'They have to have proof and they don't have any proof. Because it didn't happen.'
He sounded so much like Avi that Aman had to look away. 'They just made it all up, huh?' He made his voice harsh, unbelieving.
'I… guess.' The kid looked down, his lip trembling. 'Yeah, it sounds crazy, huh? I just don't get why. Why me? I don't even do protests. I just… try to save what's left to save.'
'Tell me about your girlfriend.'
'Who?' He blinked at Aman, his eyes wet with tears.
'The one who died.'
'Oh. Reyna.' He looked down, his expression instantly sad. 'She really wanted to kick 'em. The drugs. I tried to help her. She just… she just had so much fear inside. I guess… the drugs were the only thing that really helped the fear. I… I really tried.'
'So she killed herself?'
'Oh, no.' Daren looked up at him, shocked. 'She didn't want to die. She just didn't want to be afraid. She did the usual hit that morning. I guess… the guy she bought from -he called himself Skinjack-I guess he didn't cut the stuff right. She ODed. I… went looking for him.' Daren flushed. 'I told myself I was going to beat him up. I guess… maybe I wanted to kill him. Because she was getting better. She would have made it.' He drew a shaky breath. 'He just disappeared. The son of a bitch. I kept looking for him but… he was just gone. Maybe he ODed, too,' he added bitterly. 'I sure hope so.'
All of a sudden, it clicked into place. The whole picture.
Why.
They had reached an empty lot. Someone was growing grapes in it and as they reached the end of the rows, sudden movement in the shadows caught Aman's eye. Too late. He was so busy sorting it all out, he'd stopped paying attention. The figure stepped out of the leaf shadows, a small, ugly gun in his hand.
'I was right.' Jimi's eyes glittered. 'Didn't think I was smart enough to track you, huh? I'm stupid, I know, but not that stupid.'
'Actually, I thought you'd be too hung over.' Aman spread his hands carefully. 'I think we're on the same side here, and I think we need to get out of here now.'
'Shut up,' Jimi said evenly, stepping closer, icy with threat. 'Just shut up.'
'Jimi?' Daren pushed forward, confused. 'Goddess, I haven't seen you… what are you doing?'
'He found you,' Jimi said between his teeth. 'For the feds. You're not hiding very well, Daren, you idiot. Everything you buy has a damn tag on it. He looked up your buying habits and picked you out of the crowd, just like that. He laughed about how easy it was. You were too easy for him to even give the job to a newbie like me.' Jimi's eyes burned into the kid's. 'You got to…'
Aman shifted his weight infinitesimally, made a tiny, quick move with his left hand, just enough to catch Jimi's eye. Jimi swung right, eyes tracking, gun muzzle following his eyes. Aman grabbed Jimi's gun hand with his right hand, twisted, heard a snap. With a cry Jimi let go of the gun and Aman snatched it from the air, just as Daren tackled him, grabbing for the weapon. The hissing snap of a'gas-powered gunshot ripped the air. Again. Aman tensed, everything happening in slow motion now. No pain. Why no pain? Hot wetness spattered his face and Jimi sprawled backward into the grape leaves, arms and legs jerking. Aman rolled, shrugging Daren off as if he weighed nothing, seeing the suit now, three meters away, aiming at Daren.
Aman fired. It was a wild shot, a crazy shot, the kind you did in sim-training sessions and knew you'd never pull off for real.
The suit went down.
Aman tried to scramble to his feet, but things weren't working right. After a while, Daren hauled him the rest of the way up. White ringed his eyes and he looked ready to pass out from shock.
'He's dead. Jimi. And the other guy.' He clung to Aman, as if Aman was supporting him and not the other way around. 'Goddess, you're bleeding.'
'Enough with Goddess already.' Aman watched red drops fall from his fingertips. His left arm was numb, but that wouldn't last.
'Why? What in the… what the hell is going on here?' His fingers dug into Aman's arm.
'Thank you.' Hell was about right. 'We need to get out of here. Do you know the neighborhood?'
'Yes. Sort of. This way.' Daren started through the grapes, his arm around Aman. 'I'm supposed to meet… a ride. This afternoon. A ride to…' He gave Aman a sideways, worried look. 'Another place.'
'You're gonna have to learn some things…' Aman had to catch his breath. 'Or you're gonna bring the suits right after you.' After that he stopped talking. The numbness was wearing off. Once, years and years ago, he had worked as private security, licensed for lethal force, paying his way though school. A burglar shot him one night.
It hurt worse than he remembered, like white-hot spears digging into his shoulder and side with every step. He disconnected himself from his body after a while, let it deal with the pain. He wondered about Jimi's cat. Who would take care of it? Raul would be pissed, he thought dreamily. Not about Jimi. Raul had no trouble finding Jimis in the world. But Aman was a lot better than Raul. Better even than An Xuyen, although Xuyen didn't think so. Raul would be pissed.
He blinked back to the world of hot afternoon and found himself sitting in dim light, his back against something solid.
'Man, you were out on your feet.' The kid squatted beside him, streaked with sweat, drying blood, and gray dust, his face gaunt with exhaustion and fear. Daren, not Jimi. Jimi was dead.
'I don't have any first aid stuff, but it doesn't look like you're bleeding too much anymore. Water?' He handed
