The Rise Against, Chapters 1-2

Chapter 1

Purple shadows twisted their way over the gleaming city of Rio de Janeiro. What was once a large bay rimmed by pristine beach front had been replaced with a sea of large solar panels. Their sensitive cells began to be covered with automatically deployed steel doors. This created a great metal wave that could only be witnessed by the airships that gently floated among the cityscape. They rose up from the canyons of steel to hover over the city. Precisely placed warning lights flickered to life, creating a myriad of slow dancing red stars on the increasingly inky sky. Few people on the city streets below noticed them.

Most of the pedestrians were trying their best not to get trampled by other people. This was made harder by the occasional silent truck making a human wave as it attempted to make its way to their destination. There were no other kinds of vehicles on the streets. The only real noise came from the mixing of thousands upon thousands of voices that slowly filtered up to the airships floating above.

The people on the streets were a diverse bunch. Most dressed in loose fitting attire with quite a bit of skin showing but had a jack or covering of some sort. They needed it for the chilly air of mid autumn that occasionally whipped up from the east. A few men and women forwent such coverings, allowing their bodies to be well seen by all those passing by where they stood. They could mostly be found on the fringes of the city’s revamped entertainment district. It was in that most southern district that the chatting of people got drowned out by the electric pulse of music emanating from dozens of establishments. Closer to the central district and all along the city’s primary street were several classy cafes. There weren’t any outside seating arrangements, but the large, glass half domes that stretched out of the buildings gave an emulation of that feeling.

One branch from the main road led to the Gloria neighborhood and was fairly close to the long abandoned United States Consulate. It was lined with quaint businesses. One was a low cost electronic repair store. Another sold physical books on the cheap. Squeezed in between the two was a tea shop simply called “The Chinese Room.” It prided itself in that all tea leaves were grown and harvested on site. Or at least that’s what the large poster placed on the window looking into the place proclaimed.

The tea shop’s exterior was a lovely shade of green with some blue touches here and there. A peaceful smell wafted out into the streets, attracting a couple of customers in from the streets. The young woman manning the register did her best to smother her apathy under a wall of pleasantness. She smiled at the two men who entered the shop.

Her customers had a striking patch of a knife and eyes stitched onto the right arm of their respective black trench coats. Underneath the logo were the words “Special Intelligence Service” and below that “Service de renseignement special.” There were no name tags or rank insignias to distinguish between the two. They even had the same haircut The men didn’t seem impressed with the tea house, eyes skeptically scanning the place.

The Chinese Room was filled with a few tables and chairs meant to look Chinese in design. They appeared more like cheap knockoffs taken from a low budget movie set. The porcelain cups and tea pots attempted to look like an authentic set from some ancient dynasty but came off as total plastic fakes. Cheesey Chinese string music played over the PA speakers and cheap wallpaper depicting cliche scenes of hilly Chinese countryside completed the utter tackiness of the tea house.

There was only one other customer in the shop, a lone figure hidden away in the corner near the back of the small dining room. Their head was obscured by the hood of her dirty black hoodie. Light brown eyes were starting to glaze over as they watched a man and a woman kiss in an office setting on a computer mounted on their right arm. Their left leg was starting twitch as the pair on the screen started to tug off their cloths.

The clomping of heavy boots stirred the figure from their near catatonic state. The hood was pulled down to reveal a young copper skinned woman with messy raven hair tied up in a poorly constructed pony tail. She yanked out her earbuds letting them slip under her hoodie before she adjusted her glasses. It only took the woman a second to see the men marching up to the counter. Her eyes widened, a band of sweat forming at the edge of her brow. She calmly started to roll down the sleeve of her hoodie over her arm computer.

“Menina, we’re with Canada’s SIS office. We’re looking for an American woman. We have reason to believe she frequents this area. Tell us what you know,” one of the men barked at the girl at the register in passable Portuguese. The woman in the corner’s face crunched up. She threw her hood back up and slowly started for the door. Her beat up tennis shoes were able to take her across the dining room in silence. She was almost to the door.

The girl at the register scratched the side of her head. “Well I’m not sure. Sammy you’re American right?” the girl called to the woman who was just reaching out to the push bar on the door.

Sammy let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck,” she muttered in English. She sprang forward and flung open the door. The woman’s legs started to pump as she awkwardly sprinted down the sidewalk. Her black shorts with a red stripe at each side struggled to stay at her waist. Sammy attempted to tie the drawstrings into a knot as she continued to run through the crowded streets. She did a good job at evading the pedestrians.

The two exited the tea house. One put a hand to his ear. “C'est moi, target is on the move. Pursuing now,” he said in French. The two started a quick methodical pace in the direction Sammy had fled. Their speed never got above a brisk walk.

Not one hundred meters away, Sammy had bunched herself against a wall and was clutching her chest. Her breathing was erratic and amateurish. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire. Sammy looked down the street. Her pursuers had already caught up. They needn’t bob and weave through the crowd. Just about everyone with a hint of awareness of their surroundings scrambled to get out of the men’s way. The streets fell silent with their passing, as if all the joy had been banished. Sammy ran her fingers through her hair before slapping her left thigh. Her feet let her continue to flee; her arms started to pump faster than before.

But she couldn’t keep her initial pace. She’d made it fifty meters before her next break. Her lungs struggled to bring in oxygen and her head felt lighter. The Canadians were still nearly on top of her. Sammy growled a little in the back of her throat before starting again.
She barely made it another ten meters when her legs started to tighten up. Her desperate gasps were increasingly severe and panicked. It took all the strength her hands had left to brace her up against her knees.

The Canadians finally strode up to her. Sammy looked up at them. She tried to keep her face defiant and angry. However her eyes betrayed fear.

“Are you quite done, Ms. Garcia?” the man who hadn’t called in Sammy asked in English. Sammy’s eye twitched just a bit. She struggled to take in a gulp of air.

“Depends on what’s supposed to happens next,” she spat. Every instinct in her head yelled at her to take flight, but her body had busied itself to put up a pitiful fight. The men didn’t look amused at Sammy’s words.

The one who had called her in rolled his eyes. “We’re not here for your long overdue Caribbean Vacation...today, Ms. Garcia,” he said. He sounded disappointed having to tack on ‘today’ to the end of his claim.

“That’s...a shame. I hear that it’s nice this time of year,” she said before taking in a deep breath. Her eyes scanned back and forth. “So then what can I do for Big Sis, gentlemen?”

The two men exchanged a smirk. “Well we do need you to come with us,” one said.

Sammy brought up the best smile she could muster. “You know, Mother told me one wise thing in her life: don’t go home with strange men. So I’ll pass today,” she said.

The two men exchanged a quick glance and raised their right hands to Sammy’s face. “You’re compliance isn’t a mission requirement.”

The woman stared right at their palms. A quiet hiss emerged. Sammy’s vision started blur. “God…”

She was snapped awake by a bright light snapping on. Her eyes squinted open. A tug of her hand found that her wrists were bound by handcuffs behind her.

“Damn it,” Sammy finished with a huff. She let her head flop backwards and sighed through parted her lips. Her glasses had been removed and there was no feeling in her legs. A mind numbing thirst cried out from her throat.

It took half a minute after waking up for Sammy’s vision to finally clear up enough to get a clue as to what was in front of her. Even without help, she could make out a table with her computer and glasses on it. No one else was in the room with her. Behind the table was the only door in and out of the room. She started to rock side to side in her chair. Blood started to get back into her lower body but her throat dried up completely.

Her left hand slipped into its sleeve. She didn’t find anything. Not to her surprise. Sammy still practiced a motion for grabbing a lockpick or some similar tool. She curled her toes, finally getting some stimulation.

The door burst open and the two SIS agents that’d hunted her down entered the room. They took positions flanking the door. A woman dressed in a navy blue trench coat over a wrinkled and unkempt uniform followed the two inside. She had an officer’s hat on that covered her rich black hair. The rank insignia on her coat indicated she was a commander in the Canadian Navy. Her bright blue eyes could pierce into a soul. She had physical features suggesting she had some East Asian heritage. A nametag on her chest read “Lesage.”

The officer placed Sammy’s glass back in their proper place. Once her eyes adjusted, Sammy cracked a smile. “Hey Nats,” she said. She swallowed the gunk that formed in her throat. “Does SIS not have my new number or something? Because all this, it seems really unnecessary.” Nats cocked an eyebrow, narrowing in on Sammy’s hands.

“I needed a private word with you,” Commander Lesage said. She had the slightest of French accents. The officer returned to her spot across the table.

The cuffed woman squirmed a bit in her chair in search of a comfortable spot. “Was ‘Hey Sammy, I’m in town. Let’s do lunch.’ too straightforward for you?” Sammy snapped as she settled in.

Lesage gave a discrete signal to the agents on her right. The man stepped forward and unlocked Sammy’s cuffs. Sammy brought her hands up to her face. She gently rubbed her as she attempted to wet her lips but she was too dried out to make a difference.

“This isn’t a social call, Sammy. This is a warning,” the commander coldly retorted.

“No! Really?” Sammy quipped as she massaged her wrists. “I thought you yanked me off the street to grab a beer and talk about how much things have changed back in Vancouver.”

“Sammy!” Lesage growled. She circled over to Sammy and slammed her fist on the table. “Stop playing around.”

That brought Sammy to heel. “Alright. Alright. What’s High Command so concerned about that kidnapping me right after work was entirely necessary?” she said.

Nats shook her head. “This isn’t coming from HC. It’s straight from me,” she declared.

Sammy’s brow rose. She leaned forward in her chair. “Out of curiosity, is talking with me worth scrapping your career?”

The officer folded her hands over her chest. “I’ve been given absolute discretion for the duration of my mission,” Nats said. “With that authority, I’ve deemed this conversation mission critical.” She went back to the other side of the table and sat down. Her hands locked together.

A sharp whistle exited Sammy’s lips as she picked up her computer and started to go over it. Her fingers delicately ran over the surface of the machine. “Interesting. Very interesting even. But if you’re looking to hire me, you can’t. My contract doesn’t allow work with foreign governments and their affiliate organizations,” Sammy said. Her blunt fingernails dug into a crease on the side of the screen. It took a little effort but she popped off the front, exposing the guts of the machine.

“I’d say this is the exact opposite of that,” Nats said. Sammy started to dig through the electronics. Her fingers gingerly moved wires and chips aside to giver her an overview of every square centimeter of the thing.

Sammy’s lips pursed a moment. “So, you want me to stay the hell away?” she asked. Her eyes never looked up from her examination until she was at the base of the casing. She started to replace everything.

Nats gave a quick affirming nod. “The hell away. If you so much as hear about an empty whisky bottle, get at least a kilometer away,” she established.

Sammy’s computer booted up to the login screen. The woman returned it to its mount on her arm and gave herself a pat down. “I can’t guarantee that,” she insisted. She looked up at Nats. The officer had a frown on her face.

“Okay, I wanted to keep this a surprise but if you're going to be difficult,” Nats sighed. She raised up her hand. One of the guards handed her a tablet computer. It took her a minute of fiddling before she handed it to Sammy.

As Sammy’s eyes passed over the document Nats brought up, her face ran through several emotions; ending on surprise. “You’re appealing my case?” she said. Nats produced a bright smile.

“I was able to get in contact with some top lawyers in Toronto. They’ve built a solid defense ready to go once the appeal goes through,” Nats announced. Sammy didn’t return Nats’s enthusiasm. Her eyes were lined with skepticism.

“Has a desertion charge ever been successfully appealed? I mean I was under the impression that not getting summarily executed was some Earth shattering deal,” she asked the officer.

Nats fist clenched up. “Please Sammy. This is the best shot we got to get you home. Hell, if we win: you’ll be reinstated in SIS. That’s how great a defense they were able to construct for you.”

Sammy sat up a little straighter. Her eyes quickly went to the guards standing behind the officer. She started to scratch the skin between the farthest knuckles of her right hand with her left pinky. A thousand different ideas ran through her head. They were too fast for Sammy to get a grip on what to say.

“Things will be able to go back to the way they were before,” Nats followed up. Sammy started to rock in her chair. Her head bobbed forward. A half smile smile formed on Sammy’s face. She shot a wicked look at Nats.

“I think I’d like that. So, sure I can keep my nose clean for a while,” Sammy agreed. Nats beamed with pleasure.

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Nats said. She snapped back at the men behind her and the SIS underlings moved in front of Sammy. Nats shot a teasing smile to Sammy. “Sorry, but you're technically trespassing now. Talk to you later.”

Sammy glanced at the men. “Really I can see myself out. I’ll be a good girl, I swear,” she pleaded. She put on the sweetest voice she could bear. The men again raised their right hands to Sammy’s face. The woman let loose an exasperated breath as she heard the hiss from their wrists. “Son of a…”

Chapter 2

A vast, desolate plain stretched out to the horizon around Sammy. Above her head hovered an impenetrable layer of gray clouds. Sammy could see a few intricate bolts of lightning shoot down and strike the ground a couple of kilometers from her. Every part of her body went numb as she lowered her head.

In front of her was a small gang of figures cloaked in silhouette. Lightning shot up again, casting away the shadows. Sammy saw them and their judgmental expressions for the briefest of moments before the dark covering returned. She tried to take a step back but her feet refused to move.

The next thing Sammy felt was a slight but persistent poke on the side of her cheek. Her body was now neatly tucked into a rickety cot. In fact she was so finely cocooned in her sheets she couldn’t get her hand out to swat at the nuisance. She devoted what energy she had to wrest her arm free.

It took her a few seconds to do so. She rushed to smack the nuisance away. Her hand came in contact with a smaller hand. The hit did little against the firm stance of the annoying digits. So Sammy started to turn away from the poker.
She felt a sense of relief behind her nuisance proof technique. It was washed away when she felt a pair of light feet jump onto the cot. The poking then continued from above. Sammy tried to push the bothering to the back of her mind but simply couldn’t. The woman rolled onto her back and shot her eyes open. “Okay, what is it Maria!” she growled in a low shout.

Standing above her was a short young woman. Her onyx hair was cut short with several crude spikes pointing backwards from her face. She had light red eyes that could be mistaken for brown if viewed at a glance. On the outside of each eye was a metallic rectangle that protruded out from her skin and reached just short of her ears.

Her outfit appeared to be made up of only a buttoned up, faded and frayed gray trench coat with an eagle insignia on the right arm with “RCID” stitched under it along with a pair of beat up boots.

The oversized coat was attempting to drown her frame as no details about her body could be determined. It was so big that her hands struggled to keep afloat in the sleeves, the tips of her middle finger barely visible with her arms held at the sides. Covering the thing was a series of spots where bullets had grazed it. There was one strange stitch on the thing which was located on the back, about where the heart would be on a person properly fitted for the jacket. A name tag on her chest read MacDougles, but that seemed to conflict with her strong Japanese features.

Maria smiled at Sammy. Her grin had an innocent childishness to it. Sammy blocked out how annoyed it made her. “Ms. Medeiros called last night. She want’s to speak with you first thing this morning,” Maria reported. She jumped off the cot, allowing Sammy to pull herself up.

“Of course she does,” Sammy grumbled. She reached over to the stool that made up her nightstand and grabbed her wrist mounted computer. The lock screen brought up the time. Sammy blinked a couple of times then shot her eyes to Maria. “Do you know what time it is?” Her words were calm but laced with ice.

“Oh-six thirty-two,” Maria said. She lacked any kind of defining accent. Sammy felt her eye twitch. A barely audible growl formed in the back of her throat. Maria cocked her head to the side.

“And why did you get me up at this time?” Sammy demanded.

Maria straightened her head upright. “Because Ms. Medeiros said to see her first thing in the morning. I know that’s pretty much impossible given we don’t live together but I thought that by waking you up at an optimal time would insure you’d see her ASAP. In this case it was when you exited REM sleep after sunrise,” she bluntly stated her reasoning.

Sammy’s eyebrow popped up. Her eyes quickly narrowed in on Maria. “Were you...watching...me sleep?” she asked. She tried not to sound too alarmed. Maria shook her head. Sammy let out a relieved breath.

“I had to stop at about midnight for a quick nap,” Maria added. Their was a touch of embarrassment in her tone. Sammy slammed the back of her head against the cheap wall behind her. Maria frowned a bit. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

Sammy shook her head, using the wall as a pivot point. “Just...nevermind. Did we pay the water bill last month?” Sammy asked. The subject change would help her block out images of Maria’s night time vigil from her mind. She stood up to find her clothing was still as she wore it last night. Maria crossed her arms and gave a nod.

The apartment the two shared, if one were generous to use the word, was dominated by a large computer rig that looked like it was one bad day away from collapsing. None of the wiring would pass a fire hazard exam. The monitor was held together with duct tape. Old chips littered the desk it was sitting on. Several physical computer books were stacked their as well. One of the books was called Kappa Basics. It was the most worn down of all the books and filled with tabs to hundreds of pages.

Most of the remaining space in the apartment was used up by two small cots. There were a couple of old band posters on the walls that attempted to cover the peeling paint job. A single closet was all the storage space they had. It wasn’t filled up too much. Just enough that the door didn’t shut completely.

Tucked away to the side was a small bathroom. Sammy meandered over to it, evading the trash that littered the limited floor space. The bathroom was far cleaner than the main room. Though even that was relative. The sink was tiny and covered in gunk. The mirror above it was covered in nasty specks that originated from mouths.

Their shared shower also doubled as a small tub. A seat of sort was built into the time. Right above the faucet of the tub was a small control panel wrapped in heavy plastic. It had a blank LED timer on it with a plus sign to its right and a minus sign on its left. Sammy pushed the plus sign, adding a quarter of a minute to the timer. She pushed it until the timer refused to go up any higher, stopping at a minute total.

The woman frowned and gave it another couple of jabs. It was to no avail. “Well that’s disappointing,” Sammy muttered under her breath. She removed her clothes and undid her ponytail before stepping into the shower and pulled the curtain forward. It formed a solid seal around the basin. Sammy braced herself as she flipped open the faucet.

A torrent of crummy, cold water rushed over her body. Any remaining morning grogginess was quite literally jolted out of her. Sammy quickly scrubbed herself down in the downpour. She used her last twenty seconds of time to clean out the grease that lined her hair.

The water finally ceased with a loud beep. Sammy felt a chill of air rush over her as she sat down on the seat. Droplets began to race down her body back into the tub and down the drain. She alleviated some of the boredom by wringing out her hair.

Maria had taken a position at the doorway, leaning on its right side. She looked like a little girl trying to contemplate on something. “So that was Big Sis huh?” Maria asked outloud. Her words hinted at disappointment. She crossed her arms.

“Not what you were expecting?” Sammy replied. She attempted to clean her nails, digging under them with careful precision.

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. They looked like normal people. Not exactly the most intimidating thing,” she said.

Sammy smiled a little and closed her eyes. She quickly opened them. Her nails met her satisfaction. The woman popped her fingers. “That’s one of the first things I learned when I joined,” she answered. Maria snickered in an attempt to hold back some intense laughter.

“You worked for SIS?” Maria was able to get out. She slid down the door frame and hit the floor with her hand. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes. The disbelieving performance caused Sammy’s face to flickered into a frown.

Sammy’s fist tightened up in a flash. “Come on, you saw me in my uniform for crying out loud!” she shouted. Her tone had become really defensive.

Maria retrieved control over her body once again. She rose back up to her feet, stroking her lower jaw. “If I remember, you were trying to break me out of prison at the time. Seems like a perfect cover to me,” she said. She tapped her cheek. “So long as you’re not in Hanoi I’d imagine.”

“Okay whatever,” Sammy grumbled. She readjusted her position, letting the last of the water drain away. Her toes curled in and out a couple times before she stood up. She exited the shower, brushing past Maria on her way to the closet.

Maria followed Sammy with her eyes. The reddish orbs never stopped moving, twitching ever so slightly at every little change in the environment. Sammy went over to the desk. She rummaged through it's small drawer. Her hand landed on a heavily modified metal detector. A good amount of force was needed to adjust the knob on the handle.

Sammy tossed it to Maria. “Do a bug hunt for me, would you?” she asked. Maria caught it out the air without much effort. The girl went over to Sammy’s discarded clothes. The wand started to click. Maria’s fingers gently dug in and pulled out a small chip. Sammy started to comb through the closet before settling on a black sports bra and matching underwear. She returned to the bathroom and put on her basketball shorts, hoodie, and glasses.

Across from her, Maria examined the small piece of electronics. “So did Big Sis what with you?” she asked Sammy. Maria crushed the chip in her hand, not even paying it any mind. Sammy looked over to the girl.

“Damn it! I was going to use that!” she hissed. Maria opened her fist. The chip had been reduced to silicone smatterings in her palm. She offered the remains to Sammy. The woman rolled her eyes.

Maria’s face squirmed into an awkward expression. “Uh, sorry about that,” she said. Her cheeks turned a little red. Sammy waved it off. She ran her hands through her hair. Her nails dug into her scalp.

“It’s okay,” Sammy said. She took in a calming breath.

“So, Big Sis? What are they...uh, doing here?” Maria followed up. She twitched her eye just a little. An awkward smile on her face eased Sammy’s nerves. If only just enough to keep her anger in check.

Sammy shrugged as she rolled up her right sleeve. She grabbed her more portable computer and attached it to the mount on the inside of her arm. As the arm fell to her side, the computer rotated to the other side of the limb. “Something hush, hush I imagine. I was told to stay out of their business. Fairly simple warning that I plan on heeding,” she answered.

Maria’s lips and eyes squirmed while Sammy rolled down her sleeve. “I suspect that I’m going to be the one used to exploit that loophole,” she told Sammy.

The woman shook her head. “Not this time, I think,” Sammy said. That caused Maria to frown. It wasn’t in disappointment. More like a mask of incredulity. Sammy’s brow rose up. “What?”

“Why not this time?” she demanded.

“I have my reasons,” Sammy rebutted. Maria lacked any sign of being placated by that response. “Look, it isn’t anything serious. I’m just not interested on a trip to the Caribbean right now. Understand?”

Maria shook her head. “No,” she answered. Sammy felt a chill go down her spine. “But I’ll follow your lead for now.”

The woman smiled with relief. “Okay, I’ll take it; see you later. Oh, and Please don’t leave the apartment until I get back and I can sort this out,” Sammy instructed. She started for the door.

“But I was supposed to deliver the tape to Ms. Annon this morning!” Maria cried out.

Sammy stopped in front of the door. “Call her and tell her to meet us at the usual spot this afternoon. We’ll give it to her then. So stay here. I’ll see you after my talk with Beatriz,” she ordered. She quickly exited the apartment. Maria stamped her foot in a manner that even a toddler would find childish. The girl grumbled some not nice things about Sammy not letting her have any fun.

For Sammy, the city of Rio de Janeiro had transformed since the sunrise. The barren hills around the city were visible from the outdoor hallway of Sammy’s apartment. A great number of airships had descended from their nighttime perch to swim through the rivers of air that formed between the skyscrapers. At the edges of the skyscrapers were other buildings starting to rise up out of the city.

The city streets were now overflowing with people dressed in business casual. They chatted business and politics like there was nothing else in the world. Sammy walked down to join them at street level, her style of dress standing out ever so slightly from those around her. She kept her head down and marched along the banks of the river of people. Her eyes watched every which way, weary of every shadow. It didn’t take long for the smell of breakfast food from nearby restaurants.

A particular scent sent Sammy’s mouth into salvation. She followed it to a small bake shop on the corner of a major intersection. The woman’s face smooshed up against the outside display case. Her eyes moved down from the top racks until they landed on a individual sized, shortcrust lime pie. Sammy’s tongue licked her lips.

She rushed into the store and got in line. Her foot tapped ever so slightly as the queued up people received their orders. Sammy scratched the area between her right hand’s last two knuckles. The bakery was fairly plain; the light brown paint job was fresh and the furniture lacked any major scuffing.

It took forever for Sammy to place her order. She requested the pastry using the most methodical Portuguese she could speak. The waitress nodded and returned with exactly what Sammy wanted and a glass of water. Sammy pulled out her wallet and produced sixteen Canadian Dollars. The money was exchanged, allowing Sammy to pick out a seat to enjoy her little snack. The poor thing didn’t stand a chance against her fork.

A sweaty looking man appeared in the door of the store. His dress was a disheveled suit. No strand of graying hair cooperated willingly in its current shape. He looked around the patrons of the store. His greedy eyes landed on Sammy.

He wasted no time standing in front of Sammy. She looked up from the remains of her pie. The woman raised a finger to the man and gulped down the water. The glass made a small echo when Sammy slammed it onto the table. She stood up, an annoyed frown twitching on her lips.

“Hello Mr. Paredes,” Sammy said. Her voice was hovering somewhere between a growl and a roar. She walked past him back to the street. Mr. Paredes followed her. He pulled out a small data card and tried to shove it in her face.

“Sammy, I think I have something that might interest you in my case!” he insisted. His tone was quivering with excitement. Sammy didn’t even acknowledge the card. She kept marching down the street.

“I don’t have a case with you, Mr. Paredes,” she said as politely as she could muster.

Mr. Paredes stepped in front of Sammy. The two stopped in front of a small game shop. “Yes, yes. But I have something that demands further investigation!” he declared. His face had grown even more sweaty.

The woman closed her eyes, shaking her head in frustration. “Mr. Paredes, I’ve been exceedingly polite with you because I don’t necessarily burn bridges,” she said. Her eyes opened to reveal burning orbs. “However it’s my opinion that you’ve deluded yourself into fantasizing that we’ll end up in some super errotic yet noble affair.” Mr. Paredes couldn’t help but cringe at her words. He quickly recouped, standing up as tall as his portly body could go.

“That is…”

Sammy raised her finger at the man once again. “So here’s my advice: hire a pretty little whore,” she told him. She raised a second finger before the man could object. “Fuck her like you're the goddamn Emperor of Canada.” Sammy raised a third finger.

“And then cry yourself to sleep,” she finished. She continued on, leaving Mr. Paredes a jibbering mess on the street. A satisfied smirk lined her face as she merged back into the flowing stream of people. Most pedestrians didn’t pay the young woman any mind. Those that did were alerted more by her attire but not much else. She kept moving, unseen amongst a sea of indifference.

It took her twenty minutes to matriculate down to a newly renovated part of the city. It was sleeker and shinier than the other parts of the metropolis. Every surface gave a deep blue reflection of everything that existed in the area.

The whole spectacle of modernity was centered on a great central plaza made with a beautifully detailed tile mosaic representation of the city in the center of it. Several dozen tourists were walking interspersed with those with jobs in the area.

A great modern tower acted as the keystone of the plaza. It was an elegant blue and silver monolith. Or at least at a distance. Once under it, Sammy could see it was more of a twisting cylinder that spiraled out of the earth. Its curves were elegant and organic in shape, making the building look like a giant erupting geyser reaching its peak. The name of the marvelous building was written in a brilliant sapphire across the entrance: Neon Babylon Tower.

The front of the building was a hive of activity. Men and women were swarming all about. Security officers patrolled the area, eyeing everyone with suspicion. There was an outdoor promotional photoshoot featuring women displaying the outfits to be worn during the upcoming Samba Parade. A banner near the outfits could be ordered from Neon Babylon Fashion’s website.

Sammy recognized the photographer and approached. He was a tall man who towered over the subjects of his work. Several brightly colored tattoos lined his sun tanned arms. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. There were a couple bullet scars exposed by his tank top. A hoodie was tied around his waist.
“Hola Ricky,” Sammy greeted. Ricky turned around and beamed. He handed off his camera to his assistant with some vague instructions about taking pictures before bounding over to Sammy.

The man lifted Sammy up in a massive hug that took the woman by surprise. “Mi querida hermanita!” he shouted. Sammy tapped his back, begging for mercy.

“Yes, yes. It’s nice to see you too,” Sammy answered in a comfortable Spanish but strained speaking. Ricky put the woman down.

“What brings you to this decadent neck of the woods?” he asked.

Sammy brushed off her hoodie. “I’ve been summoned,” she answered. Ricky gave her a sympathetic nod. The woman looked around. “I was hoping she’d be here.”

“Sorry hermanita, Ms. Medeiros hosted a big gala last night and she hasn’t been seen since,” Ricky said. Sammy picked at her eyebrow.

“Of course,” Sammy muttered. She pulled down her hoodie to her waist. “Well, wish me luck.” The woman shoved her hands into the outerwear’s muff and strode towards the door into Neon Babylon Tower.