Mardock Scramble

It was different from the time she’d lived in the industrial quarter of the harbor town where she grew up, and different again from when she’d arrived in Mardock City 170 miles to the north. The time in her life she was allowed to receive money, and the time when she wasn’t.

“Let’s go straight to the main street. We can hire an electric car,” Oeufcoque said from her neckline.

Balot opened her eyes. She started walking, head bowed at first, but soon she lifted her chin. The sidewalk was clean and tidy, with manicured lawns on either side of the street. It really didn’t look like the sort of place in which you’d expect to find a morgue.

After a short walk she came to a small shopping mall. A hardware store, a computer shop, a dressmaker, a cafe, and a vegetable market—all were immaculately kept.

She arrived at a large intersection and was assaulted by dizziness. Her attention had been focused on the insides of the buildings, and she hadn’t realized that she was in such a big place. She stopped on the sidewalk for a while, considering what the best thing was to do. She soon decided. She set her own personal boundary. A field of recognition.

A circle of roughly fifteen meters in diameter. That was Balot’s personal space.

“That’s it. You can hire cars from the kiosk in front of you.”

There was a car kiosk on the other side of the intersection. Balot crossed at the green light— walk—and halted underneath the red light—stop. Without looking at them she could feel the inner workings of the traffic lights. She comprehended them fully, down to the fact that they moved like clockwork, never missing a beat.

Balot gently brushed against the pillar supporting the traffic lights. She gently interfered— snarced the signals.

The signals on the traffic lights quickened. Seeing the light had started flashing, pedestrians sped up, flustered. The gas-powered car stopped with a loud noise, and the driver looked up at the light with a surprised expression.

Balot crossed the road. Oeufcoque said nothing.

There was a billboard for eCar Rentals. Just below was a sign: MINIMUM AGE 14 YEARS. Balot stared at the phrase. MINIMUM AGE 14 YEARS. She was a little surprised at the fact that she indeed qualified. Fifteen had snuck up on her. And she was still fifteen.

“What is it?” Oeufcoque asked. Not knowing what to answer she just shook her head.

On the other side of a thick layer of bulletproof glass, the shopkeeper sat reading a magazine.

“How can I help?”

He looked at her carefully. Balot pointed at the rental sign and touched the crystal at her neck.

–A red car, please. I’m fifteen.

Balot spoke like a machine, lips tightly sealed, and the shopkeeper watched her with a vague expression before speaking.

“We also have a car suitable for the disabled. What do you think? You get free parking with those too.”

Balot gave a small nod and stuck her cash card in the window.

“Your signature.”

Rune-Balot, she wrote on the blank form that she was given. Oeufcoque secretly whispered the address in Balot’s ear. It was obviously not the address of their hideaway. It’s a decoy address, Oeufcoque said.

“If anything happens, press the emergency button. You can use a telephone?”

–Yes, I’ll be fine.

This time her voice was unnaturally high. The shopkeeper looked a little concerned.

“It’d be swell if it didn’t come back broken, that car. And if you encounter any trouble I’d appreciate it if the blame didn’t come back to—”

–I’ll be fine.

She adjusted the voice so that it had as calming an effect as possible. The shopkeeper gave her the obligatory lecture about fastening her seat belt as he handed over the keys.

The car was a two-seater, with space for luggage in the back. As she turned the keys the Nav, the in-car navigation system, started up and offered a list of possible routes to take.

It was touch-screen activated, but Balot didn’t touch anywhere.

She sensed the car’s structure and applied her will. There was no steering wheel or mirrors, and the only things that were adjustable were the destination and the speed—and even the speed was limited by the eCar regulations. There was a stereo and TV, and the TV started up automatically with a sightseeing guide. She turned it off and put the stereo on.

The car pulled out into the intersection, accompanied by an uplifting tune. Warm rays of sun filled the car, and having commandeered the Nav, she traveled down the road for a while before pulling up at a red light.

Balot looked through the windshield at the traffic lights. She could easily snarc them from here…

“Stop it, Balot.”

Balot stiffened under Oeufcoque’s sudden words of restraint.

“Are you being threatened by the traffic lights at the moment? To the extent that you feel your life is in danger?”

His voice was strict. Balot gnawed on her lips. Cheerful music was still playing.

–Why didn’t you stop me earlier?

She asked directly through the car speakers without using Oeufcoque’s body. She sounded somewhat vexed.

“I was observing your self-restraint. Ideally your powers should be used purely for self-defense. One of the reasons I gave the go-ahead for this little excursion was in order to have you learn this for yourself.”

Balot looked sullen. The lights changed and Balot raised the speed. Right up to the limit.

She tried to lift the electronic restraint on the car, and found she could, increasing the speed further and further.

“What about your seat belt? You want to drive the car at full speed, have some fun? Then let’s set our course for a theme park. There’s this fighter plane game where you can experience Mach 2.”

–Why are you suddenly being nice to me again?

“Because I want you to obey the rules—and to learn to choose for yourself which rules are worth obeying.”

Obey the rules—those words again. Balot swung her head back. She really didn’t want Oeufcoque to be telling her this.

–But you lied when you gave a false address. Is it right to lie?

“It’s a perfectly legitimate forwarding address. There’s an apartment and a postal address there. It’s just set up so that no one can tell who lives there.”

–Are you angry with me? Because I tampered with the traffic lights?

“No, not angry. It’d take more than fiddling with some lights to make me angry. Even if we’d been hit by a car, it’d be you who was hurt, not me. Even if someone died as a result of your actions I’m sure no one would be able to work out the cause of the accident, and I wouldn’t turn you in. And even if there was then another similar accident, well, I’d give you a good cross-examining, but I still wouldn’t be angry. Just sad.”

–I just got a bit carried away. Don’t get so mad at me. I was enjoying our shopping trip.

“I just want you to promise. About using your abilities in ways that could hurt innocent bystanders. You don’t want to throw away your rights to use your Scramble 09 powers, right?”

–I won’t do it again. I’ll think before I do anything. Don’t be mad at me.

“I’m not mad at you. You’ve got such incredible aptitude. I was surprised by your manipulation of the traffic lights. They’re specifically designed so that they can’t be controlled remotely, at least not