Page 5 of Tyton: The Spider and the Dragonfly (Tyton #1)

S

esi sat alone in her office with a box, far fancier than the appearance of the bundles of plain jute rope inside might suggest. Even in these strange times, jute grew easily enough. Hell, half the cellulose in her Hexcel desk probably came from jute. It just wasn’t that expensive.

The Hexaline ceiling emitted a soft glow.

Sesi preferred the lights dim, especially at this time of year.

It felt unnatural to have so much light in the winter.

The rest of the space remained bare, like her room.

Sesi found it calming. Like an empty expanse of snow.

Like home. Before that had gotten fucked up.

Her door slid open with a gentle swish . She had never gotten used to how unobtrusive doors in the city sounded. As if the door whispered a quiet sorry, like a shy girl apologising for being in the way. Not like the hollow metallic bang of the screen door on the MobilePod.

Though, Sesi thought, she might have reacted the same if she hadn’t already known what was behind it.

Tornit was a giant of a man – nearly 2 metres to Sesi’s 1.

6. He had arrived in the city soon after Sesi, both ghosts , as far as the system was concerned.

Biosig sensors couldn’t read them for some unknown reason, though Sesi had a theory.

It made them excellent thieves. It also meant implanting true cyberware was impossible.

Tornit liked his wearables, though. AR visors with Opti compatibility, wrist keyboard, RAM expander and a pocket full of injectables.

The exception was the arm. More of a prosthetic, really, and bridging the gap between wearables and true cyberware.

Not as responsive as implants. But a marvel of pistons, gears and cables, nonetheless.

All of it predated Thermabulles. Instead, Talia had cut a hole in his coat and rigged up a ridiculous array of heat sinks.

They sprouted from his back making him appear like some sort of robot-shark-man hybrid.

Sesi solved the problem by just taking off her coat inside and only using wearables when necessary.

Men always found the most circuitous solution.

“He’s waiting for you,” Tornit grunted.

“Delightful.” Sesi sneered. “Does Siku want to be here for this?”

Tornit stepped aside, revealing Siku.

“Do you have it?” Sesi asked.

Siku nodded and handed her the ulu. “You’re sure this is what she would want?”

“No.” Sesi took the knife. “But she’s not here to ask because of this jizzpuddle.”

Siku bobbed his head to the side. He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Are you going to stay?”

Siku shook his head. “You did the trap lines, not me. I never did have the stomach for it.”

Sesi hugged her brother. “He’s getting what he deserves,” she reassured him. She stepped back and held Siku by the shoulders so she could look him in the eye. “And so will she.”

Siku nodded. Sesi strode down the hall to her destination, Tornit flanking.

They kept the room cold, though considerably less sterile than Sesi’s office. The walls hadn’t been washed in years, if ever. Tornit unspooled a magcable to the Hexaline wall, and the ceiling illuminated just enough that they could make out the filth.

Jute ties bound an older man to a Hexcel chair.

Wispy strands of hair vainly trying to cover his balding pate.

He had clearly fallen on hard times. Baldness wasn’t really a thing anymore, unless you chose it.

Or you couldn’t afford the DocPod bills for more hair.

His sallow eyes and greying skin completed the look.

“Tornit, did you do this?” Sesi asked.

Tornit grunted.

“This isn’t proper. A single column tie? On a chair? He’s going to end up with nerve damage like this. What if the chair shifts?” Sesi kicked down at the back leg of the chair, snapping it off and sending both man and chair to the ground.

“See? Look at all the pressure on his arms now?” Sesi picked up the leg, swinging and shattering it across the man’s face.

“The fuck do you want with me?” the man spat thickly. Sesi crouched so that her face hovered centimetres over his, jabbing the splintered edge of the chair leg into his throat.

“My apologies, I’ve been rude. My name is Sesi.”

“I’m supposed to know who the fuck that is?”

“No,” Sesi mused, “You don’t know me. You did know my mother though.”

“I knew a lot of bitc…” The man was cut off by Sesi pressing down on the chair leg.

“This one looked like me.” Sesi drew her hand across her face.

“So what? A DocPod can make you look however you want.”

“She also wouldn’t have had a biosig.”

The man laughed, then coughed as the rope restricted his movement. “Don’t check those in this business.”

Sesi pulled out the ulu. “She also carried this.”

“A weird fuckin knife?”

Sesi removed a finger without much ado. The ulu was so sharp that he didn’t notice at first. When he did, he screamed.

Blood ran freely over the filth covered floor.

She picked the finger up and put it in her pocket.

“I’ll keep this one. I’m sure a DocPod can patch that up for you later.

” She paused and then added “If you can afford it.”

“I don’t remember!” the man yelled. “I swear I don’t!”

More weathered fingers fell away, but it only earned her sore ears. She knew this was the man responsible for her mother’s death, but if he couldn’t remember her, whatever happened would be a Pyrrhic victory at best.

“Tornit, would you grab me my PalmInter glove?”

Tornit nodded and left. The man, now fingerless, blubbered pitifully on the floor.

“You know,” Sesi examined her mother’s ulu, “These aren’t really used for this sort of thing. They’re more for skinning. Would you like a demonstration?”

The man shrieked louder. “I swear,” he said through gasping sobs, “I don’t know what you want.”

“Hmm.” Sesi bused. “If I’m being perfectly honest, my mother probably wouldn’t have approved.”

The man sputtered, confusion and pain crossing his face.

Sesi wiped the man’s blood on his shirt. “They can be extremely effective though. A quick slice in the right spot? You wouldn’t even notice it.”

Sesi stared darkly into the weeping man’s eyes. “You and I both know you can’t afford a DocPod to replace all those fingers. What do you think will happen to you if I let you walk out that door? The Styx know you’re here. And the Harpies don’t care enough about you to risk stopping them.”

The man gasped in terror and then fell into a fit of coughing.

“Maybe you’ll be able to run again. Get another job. Maybe in Leto, though I hear they’re less accommodating to runaway embezzlers.” Sesi breathed a low laugh. “But you wouldn’t even be able to hold a spatula to open a noodle shop.”

The man whimpered.

“Starvation is a hell of a way to go,” she continued. “And if I let you walk, well…” Sesi took a deep breath. “All I’m saying is that if you changed your mind, you wouldn’t even be able to hold the gun to do it yourself.”

Tornit returned with Sesi’s glove.

“This rope here,” Sesi fingered the rough cords still binding the man to the broken chair. “This is strangely expensive stuff.”

Sesi grabbed an end of rope with her gloved hand, the node of the PalmInter making contact. Suddenly the rope lit up a brilliant blue-white.

“This is what you were guarding when we found you.”

The man nodded painfully.

“What the fuck is it that makes this so expensive?”

The man coughed again, spitting out a tooth. He chuckled just enough to avoid breaking a rib. “Do you know how much people pay for sex toys?”

Sesi narrowed her eyes. “Go on.”

“It’s the only real experience left,” he spat. “We’re gone in a couple generations anyway. We eat plastic. Drink recycled sea water. There’s no point building anything anymore. There’s just fucking and showing off fucking.”

“So, just marketing then,” Sesi glowered.

“Nah. This shit is grown this way. All natural – just like whoever they’re going home with. No pornbots for him.” The man tried to laugh but only gurgled.

“Where did it come from then?”

There was no answer, only fluid-filled breathing.

Sesi stood. “You’ve got hours like this. Maybe days. Tell me and I’ll finish it now.”

“Another of 21’s hallucinations,” the man sputtered.

The ulu flashed and there were no more sounds, only a spreading pool of crimson.

Sesi showered. She was used to getting her hands dirty, but this was about her mother . And she got nothing. No clues as to who had killed her, only that this man had been her boss when she died.

Sesi remembered the day she didn’t come back. She had promised to help them collect shells on the beach. The twins had sat together in the sand and rocks for hours, Sesi with her arms around her crying brother, staring in the direction of the city until Qimmiq had come for them.

She didn’t remember crying herself. She did remember telling herself that she would never break a promise. Even then, she must have known action would feel better than tears.

And then when Siku got his leg caught in an old trap for bears that no longer existed, Qimmiq taught Sesi how to run the lines.

Siku remained at home and did the domestic tasks.

Sesi provided the food. Which was just as well because Sesi needed the space.

She needed it to seethe at her mother. And when she matured, she needed it to rage at whoever had taken her from them.

And now, after all that, she still had nothing.

Not nothing , she corrected herself. Her mother might have been forgettable by everyone else, but they would remember Sesi. She could still cause damage. This low-level shitstain would be just the beginning.

When she stepped out of the shower, she found Siku waiting for her.

Thin and reedy, he leaned up against the wall, favouring his left side.

Unlike Tornit, he preferred to avoid tech, if he could.

Which is why it was him who usually went to make deals.

None of them were in the system, but Siku couldn’t leave a trace if he tried.

And while that might seem stupid, Siku was the hand that extended greeting. Anyone foolish enough to threaten Siku would be dealt with by their own gang leaders. Because everyone knew that Sesi followed close behind – the hand with the knife.

“I need an AI psych.” Sesi towelled off her hair and sat at her desk.

“We have an AI psych.”

Sesi tossed the towel in the corner and shook her head. “She won’t use a DocPod again.”

“Why do we need a DocPod?”

“Because we need one that works with Model 21.”

Siku raised an eyebrow.

“This shit,” Sesi gestured to the very expensive box of jute, “is somehow grown this way.”

“Fluorescent proteins?” Siku guessed?

“Nope, it responds to PalmInter connections. That means it takes commands.” Sesi put on her glove and picked up a cord. It blazed to life, the cool white glow refracting off the Hexaline walls.

“Neat trick.”

“It’s more than a neat trick. I want to know how they’re growing processors.”

“And an AI psych is going to tell you this?”

“Maybe. The arsehole I just took care of said it was one of Model 21’s projects. We’ll need someone with access to ask about it.”

Siku nodded pensively. “That arsehole you took care of was to put an end to your obsession with avenging mom. What does this have to do with it?”

Sesi leaned forward on the desk, propping herself up by her elbows. “You think this pion was working by himself?”

“No, I just want to know where your endpoint is. Are you planning on taking out the whole system?”

Sesi massaged her forehead with her palm. “No. Just part of it.”

Siku hobbled over to the chair and sat with more grace than his crippled leg would suggest was possible.

“Promise?”

“No.”

“This isn’t your fight anymore.” Siku took his sister’s hand. She squeezed.

“So are you going to get me that AI psych, or…”

“Or what, you’re going to fire me?”

“Yes.”

Siku rolled his eyes. “Fine. I might have a contact. Minor things, just grey market tech and beta soft, but she might prove useful.”

“How much do you know about her?”

“She has a friend.”

“Think she’d come willingly?”

Siku bobbed his head back and forth as though he were weighing the options.

“I don’t know much about her, just that she keeps her nose clean.

We can send a couple of ours to follow the contact and see if we can gather more intel.

But if I’m being honest, unless she’s got a really good reason already, you’re going to have to resort to blackmail, money or both. ”

Sesi waved it off. “I can live with that. How soon?”

“New Year’s is coming up. Everyone will be out and about, so we’ll have a chance then. Probably not more than a couple of weeks.”

Sesi frowned.

“Don’t be like that. It’ll give you some more time to play with this. Maybe figure out what makes it tick.” Siku knocked his hand against the box.

Sesi took a deep, cleansing breath. “Okay. You do your thing, and I’ll go punch Tornit.”

Siku smiled. “He’s already waiting for you in the ring.”