Mardock Scramble

Balot started when she saw him. The Doctor was startled as well.

Boiled lifted his gun up at the Humpty-Dumpty.

“Stop it—do you really want to become an outlaw from the Commonwe—” The rest of the Doctor’s sentence was obliterated by the gunshot.

The bullet smashed into the shell wall right beside Balot, scattering a shower of sparks every which way.

The shell wall was strong enough to withstand a direct hit from a missile. A bullet would never pierce it. Balot knew this, and Boiled knew this.

“He fired…” the Doctor muttered in amazement.

This was Boiled’s new declaration of war.

Now Boiled—just like Balot—was a potential suspect of crimes against the Commonwealth, and everything would come down to how each of them went about solving their case.

Boiled held his fire. He just kept his gun trained on the silver egg as if in acknowledgement of the fact that the only way to solve this case now was to take Balot’s life.

Balot raised her left hand toward the very same Boiled.

She pointed her index finger at him and raised her thumb—and mimed a gunshot back at Boiled for him to see clearly.

I won’t be killed a second time—I’ll fight back.

Even without speaking, her message was loud and clear.

The shell wall closed tight, obscuring Balot from view.

The Humpty-Dumpty sped up and rose high into the sky.

Boiled watched its ascent with cold, dusky eyes and an upturned mouth.

–Are you smiling, Boiled? Tweedledee spoke, snarcing the speakers embedded in the rooftop.

“What…?”

–You’re smiling. The sort of smile you get when you’ve just made a new friend.

Tweedledee grinned himself.

Wordlessly Boiled returned his gun to his breast pocket and turned around. By the time his back was to Tweedledee, his face was devoid of emotion again.

–See you around, Boiled. Drop in anytime you like.

Tweedledee felt a twinge of loneliness as he watched him go.

05

The capsule that the Doctor had brought on board was filled with a blue liquid.

Oeufcoque slept inside it, bound hand and foot by a number of cords and folded into layers.

The capsule was placed in the bedroom on the first floor. Touching the glass window in the metal piping, Balot thought about Oeufcoque’s death. About what Tweedledee had told her. How this complicated synthesis of flesh and metal would eventually grow bloated and die, crushed under its own body weight.

She thought about how Oeufcoque might consider his own inevitable death and tried to see if she could comprehend it in the same way. She thought of the words that he had once said to her. That he was burnt out and projecting his world-weariness onto the city.

The Doctor knocked on the open bedroom door. “I’ve just made some fresh coffee.”

Balot pulled away from the capsule and accompanied the Doctor back to the dining room.

“We’re at an altitude of 18,000 feet. Just offshore from the city. Aren’t you cold?”

Balot shook her head and took the cup that was offered.

It was cafe au lait. She took a sip and snarced the satellite TV to communicate.

–It’s good.

“I’m glad.”

–I’ve never really thought that coffee tasted good until now.

“Ah, there’s a certain skill to grinding the beans and boiling coffee properly, you see. A bit like preparing a test tube.” The Doctor mimed dispensing some medicine.

Balot glared at him.

–Suddenly it doesn’t taste so good anymore.

“You are a cruel one,” the Doctor grumbled. Balot laughed and drank her coffee. Then she sensed that the Doctor was about to tell her something.

He was about to explain their next course of action, she realized.

–Is there going to be another trial? Balot asked. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders and fell back into his usual habit of pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose.

“There’s not much point in another trial at the moment. Not until we understand exactly what’s behind their movements and we’re ready to move in for the checkmate. As things stand, if we were to make our move now they’d be able to get themselves off the hook one way or another.”

–Their movements? What do you mean?

The Doctor seemed relieved that Balot was jumping into the conversation. “The wedding.”

–Huh?

“That is to say—he’s getting hitched to this woman from the upper classes. We knew he was planning something like this for a while…and now he’s finally putting his plan into action.

–Shell’s getting married?

“Uh, yeah, that’s about it.” The Doctor spoke as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth. Balot couldn’t have cared less about this news, but it seemed like the Doctor was expecting her to react, so she thought she’d better say something.

–Will you tell me about it?

“Sure. I hope this isn’t too hard for you. Basically, Shell is asking for the hand of one of OctoberCorp’s director’s daughters. Using the data on his dodgy dealings as a pretext.”

–That doesn’t make much sense. What’s that got to do with marriage?

“Well, uh, exactly, that’s the point. There’s a reason why the director in question can’t refuse Shell’s request. Or rather, maybe better to say that he doesn’t need to refuse.”

–I still don’t understand. What do you mean?

“It seems that the woman he wants to marry is mentally handicapped.” The Doctor seemed troubled. Balot’s eyes opened wide.

“The whole household is full of distinguished individuals—other than the woman. She’s been confined indoors all her life, apparently. A matter of keeping up appearances. Such an old-fashioned way of thinking. Deplorable, really. They knew about her condition long before she was born—and before you ask why the mother didn’t have an abortion, the answer is because their faith didn’t permit it. But really it wasn’t about faith at all, just about saving face. They had to take into consideration all their political affiliations—what their supporters would think, that sort of thing. Now, I don’t know how Shell got hold of all this, but he did. He learned about the girl’s existence and said something to the effect of ‘I’ll take care of her if you take care of me’—in other words, make sure he’s treated as one of the family with all the social benefits this entails. With the unspoken threat left dangling there that if the father didn’t allow the marriage then Shell would reveal the girl’s existence to the outside world. How the family has treated her, all sorts of things they wouldn’t want seeing the light of day.”

Balot put her cup down on the table quietly.

–I feel like killing them.

She didn’t say who, but it was quite clear: anyone and everyone.

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders as if to say Me too. Then, apropos of nothing, he changed the subject somewhat drastically. “I told you that I split up from my wife, didn’t I?”