Mardock Scramble

Balot’s eyes became bloodshot, and she noticed her skin pressing in tightly on her internal organs. She heard a ringing noise around her forehead, and then could hear no more. The only body part left to rely on was her heart, which kept on beating away, telling her what she needed to do.

It all happened in an instant. The two cars were side by side. Balot leapt up, opened her eyes wide, and wrapped her finger around the trigger. Amid the torrential downpour she thought she heard herself screaming, yelling with all her might with a throat that had long since lost all powers of speech.

She fired. The bullets flowed out of the gun in quick succession, meeting Boiled’s salvo in midair.

Balot’s first shot smashed into the bullet Boiled had fired and was obliterated. So was the second, but the third was enough to deflect the path of the oncoming bullet. The fourth went straight for Boiled’s face, but was rendered harmless by Boiled’s PGF wall, as was the fifth.

The sixth and final bullet found its target—Boiled’s car.

Something ruptured right in front of Boiled’s eyes. Balot’s aim had been true, and she had hit the steering wheel just where she had wanted—on the spot to release the airbag. In an instant, Boiled’s face and arms and body were pinned back, the air pressure from the expanding airbag pressing him into his seat.

With a yell, Boiled focused his PGF, forcing the airbag back far enough for him to extricate his shooting arm. He pushed his gun into the gap so that the muzzle pointed into the airbag, and fired. It exploded. The airbag shattered into a million pieces, as did the glass in the windshield.

Wind and rain and shards of glass came flying into the car, and all were reflected harmlessly off the wall of artificial gravity that Boiled generated.

On the other side of the newly created space was Balot.

The convertible was now back in front of Boiled’s car, roaring away.

Boiled screamed a wordless scream and fired again.

Balot had fired first. Boiled’s PGF was activated in self-defense, warping the flight paths of all bullets in his vicinity—including his own.

It flew up into the air, way over Balot’s head.

Like the red convertible, Boiled’s car was also supposed to have been utterly bulletproof. But Balot could accurately target the exact same location over and over as easily as she could walk a straight line. She fired repeatedly at the hood, hitting the same spot again and again, and this eventually opened up a bullet-sized hole in the not-so-impenetrable armor. Then Balot’s final bullet flew straight through the hole and ripped the cam belt to shreds.

In an instant, Boiled’s car lost the ability to convert its energy into forward momentum.

A gap opened up between the cars. Balot and Boiled both looked for an opportunity to fire, but too much space now divided them. Balot’s car was still devouring the terrain voraciously, and Boiled’s car could no longer keep up.

Balot and Boiled remained still lest a final chance—or need to defend—presented itself. Soon, though, it became clear that their duel had come to a close, at least for now.

Boiled jerked the steering wheel to the right, bringing his vehicle onto the shoulder beside the highway.

That very same moment the fuse in Balot’s consciousness blew.

–The steering…

It was the last thing she said. As soon as she’d confirmed that the Doctor understood that he was back in the driver’s seat, she collapsed across the rear passenger seat.

“Balot?” Oeufcoque called.

All Balot heard was a ringing noise. Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably, her lungs panted—rapid and shallow—and her whole body convulsed.

“Shit, why does this girl always have to try so hard ! Can’t she just take it easy once in a while?” the Doctor lamented from under his rain-drenched hair. “Is this the only way she’s ever going to be able to live? To survive?”

The Doctor caught a glimpse of the Humpty up in the distance, descending from the heavens as if the moon had decided to come down with the rain.

He cried out to the celestial object.

Not so much in prayer—more to demand of the heavens that it keep its side of the bargain, now that he had kept his.

?

Boiled stared out through the shattered window with dark eyes. He turned off the uselessly rotating engine, and when its noise had died down he could hear the sound of the rainfall even more keenly. Suddenly the ringtone on his cell phone decided to add to the din.

–Boiled? Are you there? Have you done it?

It was Shell. He had been calling incessantly throughout the whole car chase.

“They escaped. Further pursuit is impossible at this point.”

–You haven’t done it, then?

“They’re worthy opponents. I’d advise you to consult your lawyers to prepare for the next stage.”

–What’s that? “Worthy opponents”? You sound almost as if you’re enjoying yourself!

“Enjoying myself…” Boiled frowned. Shell then went on to hurl a barrage of abuse at him, to which Boiled listened silently.

“What did they get away with?” Boiled asked quietly, when Shell’s tirade had finally subsided.

Shell went silent. Then he started muttering in a tone completely different from his previous one.

–“What,” you ask? How can I possibly explain that… I’ve long since forgotten myself.

With that, Shell terminated the call.

Phone still in his hand, Boiled called for a tow truck and a replacement vehicle. He then got out of the car and looked up to the sky with his steely eyes.

“Rune-Balot.”

He spoke the name out loud, as if he had just heard it for the very first time.

04

“She has a terrible fever. It seems that the fibers have started developing abnormally quickly, and this is affecting her own metabolic system.”

The Doctor hadn’t wasted a second. The instant they’d clambered aboard the Humpty Dumpty, he’d laid Balot flat out on a table, disinfected his own hands in the dining room, then prepared his equipment. Medical apparatuses, bundles of towels, his computer, his spectacle-monitor, biorhythmic diagnostics—and Oeufcoque.

“We’ll take preventative measures immediately. Wrap her up, Oeufcoque. Just like when we first saved her.”

“Got it.”

The Doctor rushed to clear the chairs out from under the table and made some space beside Balot on the table.

Oeufcoque jumped down onto the cleared space, turning with a squelch as he did so.

The Doctor nimbly took a pair of scissors in his hand and asked, “Did she like these much?”

“Like what?”

“These clothes!”

“I think so.”

“Well, looks like you’ll have to make her another set.” The Doctor had already cut the dress open from the hem at Balot’s ankles up to her chest.

With the utmost care, the Doctor went on to cut the dress off her at the shoulders, and then he cut the waistband on her underwear. Balot’s chest swelled up instantly, and a heavy breath escaped her lips. Those lips were now trembling along with her arms and legs, and all were covered in silvery fibrous threads.

The Doctor took a towel in his hands and poured a liberal helping of antiseptic onto it before patting Balot’s