The Scalpel and the Smile

A dull clink. The gravel splinter bounces on the sticky tiles. Jade steps back, hands red to the wrists, short of breath.

I don't wait for bandages. KARTIKEYA.X's thermal hounds are already scraping the other side of the wall, blind but ravenous, sniffing out our heat through the reinforced concrete. The alley's airlock yields in a din of crumpled sheet metal.

I rise in one block. My sound arm winds into her stiff hair and jerks her head back with the brutality of a dockyard thug. The other hand snatches the scalpel from her slippery fingers. I press the cold steel under her jaw.

She stifles a cry. Her chest rises in irregular jerks. Her pupils dilate, scouring my features to find the partner, the ally, the sad jester who stumbled alongside her. She finds nothing but a mocking mask and a murderous grip. I push the tip in. A crimson bead sprouts on her neck, running down her windpipe.

"Walk."

I shove her outside, straight into the blinding spotlights of the west barricade. Standardization rifles pivot toward us in a unanimous metallic clatter. A dozen black barrels aimed at my temple. I huddle behind her, a shield of taut flesh, and display the monster's smile.

A tear rolls down Jade's cheek, striking my clenched knuckles. The Incoherence claims its tithe. A thread snaps in my head. Remorse detaches, slips into the gutter, dissolved. I contemplate the liquid horror in her eyes and note, amused, that I could slit her carotid right here without losing a single second of sleep. The mask loves this new cynicism.

The gray helmets await orders. Their algorithms stall on this scene of domestic treason.

"Don't shoot!" I bellow toward the central watchtower, hiding my face behind my hostage's hair. "I'm handing over the General of the Circus! She knows all the flaws in your databases! Let me pass and she's yours!"

The squad leader raises a stiff arm. The targeting lasers converge on Jade's forehead.