Periwinkle
Fear, trickling, thumping, thrashing through my skin, tightening on my heart, thick in my chest, hanging in my breath, shell-shocking, knee-knocking, shit-less fear. The smell of it is intoxicating, overwhelming, consuming my blood-beating senses. The warehouse stands before me, not as a beacon of blue light, but as an anchor to the thick darkness around it. The street around is dead and full of dust. Broken glass slashes across the sidewalk, half-heartedly illuminated by the flashing lights pumping out of the building. The music—if you can call it that—thrashes out from inside the metal beast, muffled like a heart clamped against a cage. Nothing melodic or complimentary comes from that music. It’s just harsh shapes of sound that jut out at odd places from the darkness.
I linger by an alleyway. A dribble of sweat creeps down my lip as I struggle to calm my breath around this black air. My first official mission, and they send me here. To the lair of the blue fanged beast. At least I look the part. Jade dressed me up again in scraps of blue— navy cargo shorts for the hot summer night, a pair of electric blue suspenders that hang down by my legs, and a tight, ripped shirt. For extra flair, she shoved fishnet gloves over my hands. They were dressing me up for the kill, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
I pull down my nightshades. The bitmites pull together, and I feel them stretch out their electronic arms and connect to the minds of the rest of the gang. I swallow, looking over my thought carefully before pushing it out towards the others.
Are you sure this is safe? _Jack
It takes a moment for the bitmites to translate the foreign thought. They shift around the shape, putting it into motions and sounds and concepts—the first thing that I get is a touch of exasperation. That’ll be Netto then.
Of course. _Netto
The sound of her thoughts spread out into text before my eyes.
There won’t be many gangsters there except for Indigo. You just need to get close enough to overhear him, in case he lets slip something important. And we’re a minute away in case there’s any trouble. Try not to cause any…
I nod, before I realize that she can’t see the motion. A new thought swarms into my mind, sparking determination into my consciousness.
You’ve got this, kid.
Darc’s thought settles against my fear. I can almost feel his ecstatic grin spread across my own lips.
We’ll walk you through every step. The first one is to enter the place. There’s a side entrance the next alleyway over.
I steady my fear as best I can. I fold it up inside my gut, where it churns and burns but stays put. And a new feeling is rising through my thoughts, the most frightening feeling I could have at this time. Excitement, raw and bold, striking through my heart, pumping my lungs with crisp air, tingling, trembling across my skin, heart-racing, blood-pumping, reckless excitement. It pushes away the fear, at least for the moment.
The alleyway over is encased in night. Lights from the high, broken windows do little to illuminate my path. A slice of aqua light wraps around the frame of a door a little ahead of me. I crush down my fear, step up towards it and reach for the knob.
It begins to twist before my fingers touch it.
I jump back, and the fear leaps up out of my gut.
The door swings open--
And for a moment the flashing blue strobe lights beat against my eyes, and I put up a hand to block that color. The raging music spears through me, jarring my sense as a cloud of sparkles engulfs me. Soft, blue feathers invade my vision, and I stumble back against the alley wall in surprise. The light blue boa is constricting around the neck and arms of a tall man, like a shimmering blue snake. His startled face is coated in heavy makeup—huge glossy lips gape at me, high cheekbones raised with rosy circles stare me down, thin blue eyebrows stretch high over butterfly eyes fluttering glitter at me. His feminine features contrast awkwardly with his hard jaw and prominent chin. My head drops down to see an uncomfortably short plaid blue skirt, and aluminum colored tights that sear into my eyes. I see now that this man looming above me isn’t as tall as I thought. He’s standing upon huge, clunky boots, all straps, leather, and lace.
I blink until my eyes grow blurry. The flamboyant mirage before me recovers from our encounter faster than I do. He smiles enthusiastically, flashing perfect teeth my way, and shuffles forward on his clunky fish boots.
“Oh darling!” the Queen says in a high voice that makes my balls want to curl up in a corner and die. “What are you doing out here, my lost lamb?”
The dumbfounded state I’m in swallows up all my words, and I’m left staring at him jaw-slacked. The queen clamps down on my arm, and drags me inside before I can begin to wrap my mind around what the hell is going on. He’s saying something that I don’t catch over the loud music that’s washing over us, something about being shy. In the back of my head, I hear a voice laughing. It’s Crash’s laugh.
What. The.Hell?
I shoot out the thought in the largest text the bitmites can find for me. All I can hear is Crash’s laughter. When I step into the club, the bitmites go into a frenzy before my eyes. Apparently they’re the only ones who want to answer my question. At once, information pools in my mind, labels flash before my eyes,
speakers, dancers, stripper poles, alcohol (__name: toxicity) ecstacy, blue, sweat, lust (__scan: lust, __scan: blush, ^command: scan aborted) <end>
Way too much information.
The Queen pulls me up close to him. “Well don’t be a stranger!” he says into my ear. “What’s your name, honey?”
Use an alias, if you have to. _Netto
__scan: frantic searching:
“Light,” I say. “Light Blue.”
The man smiles those huge lips. “My name is Perry!” he throws his arms up, and his body shivers from the violent shakes in his hips. “And welcome to Periwinkle!”
This is a joke. This must be a joke. I can’t believe you guys sent me to a gay bar. Is Indigo really here? _Jack
I look around the room as a crowd of half-dressed men dance past me. Most of the hip-shaking, groin-grinding is going down to the far right on the dance floor. This place is sweltering hot.
What’s wrong with gay bars? He’s here; it’s a good location for a meet. _Darc
I was expecting a different type of scary. _Jack
A separate text scrolled down against my lenses, a private message from Darc that blocked out Crash’s tearful laughter.
Nice alias ;D _Darc
I glance around, a smile rising to my lips. Perry is dragging me off to the bar now. His huge boa tickles my arm as we shuffle over.
This place reminds me of you.
Sounds like a cool joint. Maybe we’ll go there sometime when we’re not working.
I snort with laughter.
You didn’t just ask me to go to a gay bar with you… And somehow I don’t think they’d let you in.
I can get in anywhere.
The bar is a long clear slate over a waist high fish tank. Multicolored fish with long, flowing tails glide about the water. The smaller ones dance back and forth at the sudden flashes of blue light. The bartender turns to us as soon as we come up—he’s probably the most conservatively dressed man in the room. He wears a classic bow tie; blue of course, a dark bandanna across his head, and a slack vest. We slide up to the counter, and Perry leans over it to smooch the bartender once, twice on the cheeks.
“This is Winkie!” Petty wraps his boa-entwined-arms around the bartender, kicking one boot into the air. The fish flip out in a burst of bubbles. “We started up this gentleman’s club.”
Winkie pushes a blue drink towards me nonchalantly. “I got work to do, honey,” he mouths at Perry. He gives him a smooch on the cheek, and then winks at me slyly before slipping down the bar.
I take a sip of the drink and turn my back on the bar. The drink is bitter and hot—exactly what I need to calm my nerves. I slide away from Perry before he notices, and lose myself in the dancing crowd.
We’re going to quiet communications on our end, so that there’s no interference. I’ve uploaded a bio of Indigo to your subconscious. You’ll know him when you see him, and then amplify your auditory receptors. _Netto
Got it. _Jack
I push my cybershades out of my eyes and let the bitmites go to work. Bodies shift around me. They never directly bump into me, they only brush against my skin, teasing. It’s almost eerie, walking through this sea of people, watching their bodies move but I can’t hear anything but the song. The music eats up all other sounds as I move closer to the dance floor. Lips move but no sounds penetrate the air. The breath of the crowd is silenced by this overwhelming music. I spin around, taking in the scene.
I have to remind myself what I’m here for. Actually, it’s more like the bitmites remind me. It’s rather hard to tell where the bitmites end and the mind begins. I suddenly get the idea that Indigo isn’t one to boldly dance out with the rest of the crowd. He’d be the one sitting in the shadows, watching the dancers with a smile on his face.
I look around me and see a row of circular booths in half shadow, past the stripper poles and a few steps up from the dance floor. I float through the crowd in that direction, avoiding the faces of the mob around me. I step up between two fish infested platforms. I try to move casually, scanning the tables. Every few seconds a wave of light passes over the booths, illuminating drunk, flirtatious Blues. I try not to directly meet their eyes, but none of them pop out at me. Two bodies collide on top of the table, their moans unheard and uncared over the rushing music.
I spin on my heel slowly, eyes glazing over the shadows. A heavy beat of music, a blinding flash of blue, and two men are silhouetted against shadows. One of them looks tough enough to be a gangster, though I don’t recognize him. But the other one. The one with his shoulders curled up by his ears. The one with the trench coat. The one, that with only a hint of a smile, chills me down to my toes.
Keeping to the shadows as best I can, I slide up along the line of booths towards the blue gangsters. The booths besides theirs is empty, and I slip into it, back to Indigo.
^command: block out music
Lock onto target: Indigo
Auditory link established
Recording commenced.
The music begins to fade, until it is hardly noticeable, and with it goes all the other sounds of the club, muted to a dull drone. It’s as if the only people in the warehouse are the Blues and I.
“Do you have reason to believe that the Gurus are considering you as a next in line?” the other gangster was saying. His voice was gruff, and serious.
“I haven’t heard it from them, no.” Indigo’s voice was steady and sharp, and held an air of untouchable confidence. “If anyone had to fight it out for the position… if the position was open, it would be between Spectrum and me. But I don’t have any reason to suspect that time will come soon. Cougar and Safire aren’t going to retire. Our… situation is the perfect opportunity to speed things up.”
A pause, in which glasses clink.
“And…” the other man begins. “You would elect me as your second.”
“In a heartbeat.”
My blood chills and tenses in my veins. In a heartbeat. That was exactly what Darc had said, exactly how he said it…
“Then, I have some information for you.” The other gangster broke the silence again, and this time his voice was the commanding one. “I didn’t know when to relay this information to the Blues, since, as you said they’re on the brink of complete chaos. We were going to wait until the Cleaner could have a look at them.”
It doesn’t surprise me that I’m lost on this whole conversation. But apparently, so is Indigo.
“Cleaner?” he asks slowly. “Do you mean…?”
“Cougar and Safire are dead.” The silence that follows the Blue’s statement is unbearable. Someone whispers in the back of my head, my lord, but I’m not sure if it’s the Greens or the bitmites or myself.
Get out of there Jack… that’s all we need. _Netto
^command: recording ended
Auditory levels: normalized
The music rings with sirens, and a slow, toxically distorted bass. The beat is slow, each strike of sound deliberate, like each move of Indigo’s. At once, it swells, and without warning breaks into a scream, a crash of guitar and percussion, an obscure, chaotic chorus. It flies around my senses, before returning to that devastating beat.
I stand up from my seat, and cross back towards the dance floor. I take one last glance back at the Blue gangsters…
The light prances off of them. I see Indigo’s shocked face, I see him trying to work out what the other has just said. As I stand there, music pounding at my back, Indigo lift’s his head. The lights move away from them, and the next time they shine on that booth, Indigo’s blue eyes are looking at me.
The music sways into a rocking, emotional rift. The singer stops the screaming and begs with his suddenly harmonic voice. Whether it’s the music or those glaring eyes, I’m struck stupid and stuck in one place.
Check him out! A sudden though forces its way into my head. I can’t tell whose it is. Give him those bedroom eyes before he skins you!
I hesitate, but there isn’t much time for that. Swallowing around my constricting throat, I roll my gaze down his body before snapping my eyes up and giving him a flirtatious wink.
He looks away from me, obviously too distracted to be compelled by the desires of a young teen like me. I spin around, swaggering out into the crowd, shaking with fear.
----------
The Green room was buzzing with talk. The tension that split the air was enough to set their thoughts on fire, and their whispers smelled like smoke. It was mid-afternoon, a time where most of the Greens were asleep or planning tactics in their own rooms, a time where the workers for club Vertigo were starting the early shifts and cleaning up from last night’s party slaughter. But not tonight. Vertigo was closed, and Arken and Darc’s gangs—and a few lowly teams of graffiti taggers– filled up the entrance hall. By this time everyone had heard the news. The Blue Gurus, Cougar and Safire had been murdered, though no one was sure who had committed the crime.
“I heard there wasn’t a trace of color on either of them.”
“I heard their color was sucked out of them!”
“It must have been a Blackshirt.”
“No, they would have made it clear it was them who did it.”
Jack sat on the scarred marble steps, listening to the gangsters whisper as he ate his dinner bar. Netto took a seat beside him. The rest of the gang was scattered about, moving uneasily through the room. Darc and a few girls Jack didn’t recognize were speaking in low voices by the wall, separate from the rest of the gangsters, and they didn’t seem to be flirting.
“What do you know about all of this?” Jack asked Netto.
“Well, whoever killed them did an expert job.” She tucked her knees and crossed her arms over her legs, looking out at the crowd of Greens. “They didn’t want anyone to know who did it. But what you overheard with Indigo and Hellion was… suspicious to say the least.”
“Indigo looked surprised to me.” Jack followed her gaze to the crowd of nervous gangsters, and he couldn’t help but feel part of that apprehension. “Well… what does this mean for us?”
Netto sighed heavily. “Indigo’s bad, Jack. He’s a straight killer. Spectrum, the other Blue he was talking about, might even be worse. They’ll fight it out, I imagine. They’ll rip each other’s throats out and whoever is left standing will take over all the Blue gangs. As far as I’m concerned, if either one of them becomes Guru the whole Street Level is fucked.”
Jack took another bite of condensed dinner. He may not know all about the Gangs’ system, or lack thereof, but by the worried expression he found on every Green’s face, he was sure this wasn’t going to end well.
“The Blues are already unstable.” Netto took the dinner from him, and bit into it. Greens passed up and down the stairs around them restlessly. “Every time there’s a new Blue Guru, a change in the hierarchy, it means hell for the rest of us. At least the Reds are organized!”
“How long have Krono and Kremlin been Gurus?” Jack asked.
“Oh, for the longest time.” Netto brushed hair out of her eyes, and finally looked over at Jack. “Kremlin’s parents were Gurus. When they died, he inherited the position. He was… six years old?”
“Damn!” Jack whistled. “I thought the Gurus were all the oldest.”
“Usually,” Netto replied. “Darc’s parents helped run the Greens and took care of Kremlin. You know, before they were killed.”
Jack glanced over across the hall, to where Darc was talking rapidly with the two girls. The Green pressed his hair back between his horns, and shook his head, eyes heavy with some dark conversation. “I… I didn’t know,” Jack said slowly, watching Darc with squinted eyes.
“You’ll be hard pressed to find an old gangster who hasn’t been killed,” Netto said indifferently. “There isn’t really a color-kid retirement plan. Everyone dies at some point…”
Down the stairs, past the crowd of Greens, across the smooth marble floor, the double doors opened to the dimming dusk. All eyes turned to the white clad man who stepped through the threshold. A hush consumed the crowd, until that biting tension in the air broke with a chain of bitter remarks.
“The fuck?”
“Fairy.”
“Why in the howling is that unicorn here? Rainbow fucker.”
Jack stood up to get a look at the intruder. He glanced past malicious whispers, shrewd expressions and clenched fists. The hatred in the room was thick in the air, but no one was moving to address the object of their anger.
Dressed in pales and whites, he gleamed against the steadily darkening street, a mirage of light. A pair of cybershades obscured his eyes, but he pressed them up through his long, silvery hair. His skin was pale and fair, like paper across his calm and narrow face. Observing the Greens patiently, his eyes flashed over the crowd, searching. The stranger appeared older than most of the Green teens, or so Jack thought.
“I sadly forgot my white flag of peace.” He projected his voice out into the long hall, with a strong but passive tone. “I hope the coat will do. I don’t suppose there’s any point in me telling you that I’m unarmed, and intend to cause no harm to any of you.” The statement should have been sarcastic, but his voice was coated with a calm that fought against the Green’s tense glares.
“What’s going on––” Jack turned to Netto.
“White Light.” She stared at the man, and shook her head. Jack was just about to ask her to remind him what that meant, but thought better of it.
Across the room, Darc stepped up in between the crowd of greens and the stranger. He crossed his arms, cocked his head. His voice was loaded with apathy, a strange hue for his normally flamboyant self. “What do you want, Rainbow Man?”
The White Light looked at Darc, and then spoke to the whole room. “I’m looking for a kid named Jack.”
Jack drew in sharply through his teeth. He began to make his way down the stairs without hesitation, his mind racing, trying to work out how there would be anyone in this city who knew him. Someone from the Resonance? Someone who knows the way in and out of this Era?
“What do you want with him?” Darc demanded.
“That’s our business.”
As Jack sidestepped between Greens, they all turned to him. Some moved out of his way, disgust crossing their faces. Some looked concerned, others betrayed. Jack ignored them all. As walked through the field of bodies, he caught glimpses of the stranger walking up to Darc. Finally, he passed the last cluster of teens, and made straight for the man in white.
“How do you know my name?” Jack moved towards the stranger. Suddenly Darc grabbed Jack by the arm and yanked him back behind him. His face was tensed with something close to anger, and he snapped his narrow eyes at the White Light.
“I’m not letting you take him,” Darc said coolly. His grip tightened on Jack’s arm. “He’s mine.”
Jack yanked his arm away, slanting a glare at Darc. The Green Gang leader blinked in surprise, and the malicious look was gone.
“How do you know my name?” Jack asked again, facing the White Light. Now that he was close to this stranger, he could feel why all the Greens were tense. He could sense some immense power about this man, some aura or light. It wasn’t in his stance, which was innocent and unobtrusive. It wasn’t in his appearance, which was slight and unimpressive. But something about him radiated control and strength.
“My name is Lucifir.” The man in white nodded his head to Jack. The musician was about to make a comment on the strange choice of name, but the next comment shut him up. “Path sent me to look in on you.”
Lucifir smiled suddenly, and brilliantly. In a whisper barely audible, only shapes of lips, he said, “I can’t believe you made it through.”
“Path?” Jack’s heart flickered with excitement, and he took another step closer.
Lucifir glanced again at Darc. “I have no intentions of stealing him from you,” he explained. “In my opinion, he should stay where he wants to. We have some… business to take care of, I think. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“You’re doing a great job of that.” Darc stared down at Lucifir, but then his malice dried up, and he shrugged. Waving his head in an offhand gesture, he added, “If you harm him, well, you know.”
Lucifir nodded. Then, to Jack, he gave a small smile. "Please come with me. I think... I have a lot of explaining to do."
Fear, trickling, thumping, thrashing through my skin, tightening on my heart, thick in my chest, hanging in my breath, shell-shocking, knee-knocking, shit-less fear. The smell of it is intoxicating, overwhelming, consuming my blood-beating senses. The warehouse stands before me, not as a beacon of blue light, but as an anchor to the thick darkness around it. The street around is dead and full of dust. Broken glass slashes across the sidewalk, half-heartedly illuminated by the flashing lights pumping out of the building. The music—if you can call it that—thrashes out from inside the metal beast, muffled like a heart clamped against a cage. Nothing melodic or complimentary comes from that music. It’s just harsh shapes of sound that jut out at odd places from the darkness.
I linger by an alleyway. A dribble of sweat creeps down my lip as I struggle to calm my breath around this black air. My first official mission, and they send me here. To the lair of the blue fanged beast. At least I look the part. Jade dressed me up again in scraps of blue— navy cargo shorts for the hot summer night, a pair of electric blue suspenders that hang down by my legs, and a tight, ripped shirt. For extra flair, she shoved fishnet gloves over my hands. They were dressing me up for the kill, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
I pull down my nightshades. The bitmites pull together, and I feel them stretch out their electronic arms and connect to the minds of the rest of the gang. I swallow, looking over my thought carefully before pushing it out towards the others.
Are you sure this is safe? _Jack
It takes a moment for the bitmites to translate the foreign thought. They shift around the shape, putting it into motions and sounds and concepts—the first thing that I get is a touch of exasperation. That’ll be Netto then.
Of course. _Netto
The sound of her thoughts spread out into text before my eyes.
There won’t be many gangsters there except for Indigo. You just need to get close enough to overhear him, in case he lets slip something important. And we’re a minute away in case there’s any trouble. Try not to cause any…
I nod, before I realize that she can’t see the motion. A new thought swarms into my mind, sparking determination into my consciousness.
You’ve got this, kid.
Darc’s thought settles against my fear. I can almost feel his ecstatic grin spread across my own lips.
We’ll walk you through every step. The first one is to enter the place. There’s a side entrance the next alleyway over.
I steady my fear as best I can. I fold it up inside my gut, where it churns and burns but stays put. And a new feeling is rising through my thoughts, the most frightening feeling I could have at this time. Excitement, raw and bold, striking through my heart, pumping my lungs with crisp air, tingling, trembling across my skin, heart-racing, blood-pumping, reckless excitement. It pushes away the fear, at least for the moment.
The alleyway over is encased in night. Lights from the high, broken windows do little to illuminate my path. A slice of aqua light wraps around the frame of a door a little ahead of me. I crush down my fear, step up towards it and reach for the knob.
It begins to twist before my fingers touch it.
I jump back, and the fear leaps up out of my gut.
The door swings open--
And for a moment the flashing blue strobe lights beat against my eyes, and I put up a hand to block that color. The raging music spears through me, jarring my sense as a cloud of sparkles engulfs me. Soft, blue feathers invade my vision, and I stumble back against the alley wall in surprise. The light blue boa is constricting around the neck and arms of a tall man, like a shimmering blue snake. His startled face is coated in heavy makeup—huge glossy lips gape at me, high cheekbones raised with rosy circles stare me down, thin blue eyebrows stretch high over butterfly eyes fluttering glitter at me. His feminine features contrast awkwardly with his hard jaw and prominent chin. My head drops down to see an uncomfortably short plaid blue skirt, and aluminum colored tights that sear into my eyes. I see now that this man looming above me isn’t as tall as I thought. He’s standing upon huge, clunky boots, all straps, leather, and lace.
I blink until my eyes grow blurry. The flamboyant mirage before me recovers from our encounter faster than I do. He smiles enthusiastically, flashing perfect teeth my way, and shuffles forward on his clunky fish boots.
“Oh darling!” the Queen says in a high voice that makes my balls want to curl up in a corner and die. “What are you doing out here, my lost lamb?”
The dumbfounded state I’m in swallows up all my words, and I’m left staring at him jaw-slacked. The queen clamps down on my arm, and drags me inside before I can begin to wrap my mind around what the hell is going on. He’s saying something that I don’t catch over the loud music that’s washing over us, something about being shy. In the back of my head, I hear a voice laughing. It’s Crash’s laugh.
What. The.Hell?
I shoot out the thought in the largest text the bitmites can find for me. All I can hear is Crash’s laughter. When I step into the club, the bitmites go into a frenzy before my eyes. Apparently they’re the only ones who want to answer my question. At once, information pools in my mind, labels flash before my eyes,
speakers, dancers, stripper poles, alcohol (__name: toxicity) ecstacy, blue, sweat, lust (__scan: lust, __scan: blush, ^command: scan aborted) <end>
Way too much information.
The Queen pulls me up close to him. “Well don’t be a stranger!” he says into my ear. “What’s your name, honey?”
Use an alias, if you have to. _Netto
__scan: frantic searching:
“Light,” I say. “Light Blue.”
The man smiles those huge lips. “My name is Perry!” he throws his arms up, and his body shivers from the violent shakes in his hips. “And welcome to Periwinkle!”
This is a joke. This must be a joke. I can’t believe you guys sent me to a gay bar. Is Indigo really here? _Jack
I look around the room as a crowd of half-dressed men dance past me. Most of the hip-shaking, groin-grinding is going down to the far right on the dance floor. This place is sweltering hot.
What’s wrong with gay bars? He’s here; it’s a good location for a meet. _Darc
I was expecting a different type of scary. _Jack
A separate text scrolled down against my lenses, a private message from Darc that blocked out Crash’s tearful laughter.
Nice alias ;D _Darc
I glance around, a smile rising to my lips. Perry is dragging me off to the bar now. His huge boa tickles my arm as we shuffle over.
This place reminds me of you.
Sounds like a cool joint. Maybe we’ll go there sometime when we’re not working.
I snort with laughter.
You didn’t just ask me to go to a gay bar with you… And somehow I don’t think they’d let you in.
I can get in anywhere.
The bar is a long clear slate over a waist high fish tank. Multicolored fish with long, flowing tails glide about the water. The smaller ones dance back and forth at the sudden flashes of blue light. The bartender turns to us as soon as we come up—he’s probably the most conservatively dressed man in the room. He wears a classic bow tie; blue of course, a dark bandanna across his head, and a slack vest. We slide up to the counter, and Perry leans over it to smooch the bartender once, twice on the cheeks.
“This is Winkie!” Petty wraps his boa-entwined-arms around the bartender, kicking one boot into the air. The fish flip out in a burst of bubbles. “We started up this gentleman’s club.”
Winkie pushes a blue drink towards me nonchalantly. “I got work to do, honey,” he mouths at Perry. He gives him a smooch on the cheek, and then winks at me slyly before slipping down the bar.
I take a sip of the drink and turn my back on the bar. The drink is bitter and hot—exactly what I need to calm my nerves. I slide away from Perry before he notices, and lose myself in the dancing crowd.
We’re going to quiet communications on our end, so that there’s no interference. I’ve uploaded a bio of Indigo to your subconscious. You’ll know him when you see him, and then amplify your auditory receptors. _Netto
Got it. _Jack
I push my cybershades out of my eyes and let the bitmites go to work. Bodies shift around me. They never directly bump into me, they only brush against my skin, teasing. It’s almost eerie, walking through this sea of people, watching their bodies move but I can’t hear anything but the song. The music eats up all other sounds as I move closer to the dance floor. Lips move but no sounds penetrate the air. The breath of the crowd is silenced by this overwhelming music. I spin around, taking in the scene.
I have to remind myself what I’m here for. Actually, it’s more like the bitmites remind me. It’s rather hard to tell where the bitmites end and the mind begins. I suddenly get the idea that Indigo isn’t one to boldly dance out with the rest of the crowd. He’d be the one sitting in the shadows, watching the dancers with a smile on his face.
I look around me and see a row of circular booths in half shadow, past the stripper poles and a few steps up from the dance floor. I float through the crowd in that direction, avoiding the faces of the mob around me. I step up between two fish infested platforms. I try to move casually, scanning the tables. Every few seconds a wave of light passes over the booths, illuminating drunk, flirtatious Blues. I try not to directly meet their eyes, but none of them pop out at me. Two bodies collide on top of the table, their moans unheard and uncared over the rushing music.
I spin on my heel slowly, eyes glazing over the shadows. A heavy beat of music, a blinding flash of blue, and two men are silhouetted against shadows. One of them looks tough enough to be a gangster, though I don’t recognize him. But the other one. The one with his shoulders curled up by his ears. The one with the trench coat. The one, that with only a hint of a smile, chills me down to my toes.
Keeping to the shadows as best I can, I slide up along the line of booths towards the blue gangsters. The booths besides theirs is empty, and I slip into it, back to Indigo.
^command: block out music
Lock onto target: Indigo
Auditory link established
Recording commenced.
The music begins to fade, until it is hardly noticeable, and with it goes all the other sounds of the club, muted to a dull drone. It’s as if the only people in the warehouse are the Blues and I.
“Do you have reason to believe that the Gurus are considering you as a next in line?” the other gangster was saying. His voice was gruff, and serious.
“I haven’t heard it from them, no.” Indigo’s voice was steady and sharp, and held an air of untouchable confidence. “If anyone had to fight it out for the position… if the position was open, it would be between Spectrum and me. But I don’t have any reason to suspect that time will come soon. Cougar and Safire aren’t going to retire. Our… situation is the perfect opportunity to speed things up.”
A pause, in which glasses clink.
“And…” the other man begins. “You would elect me as your second.”
“In a heartbeat.”
My blood chills and tenses in my veins. In a heartbeat. That was exactly what Darc had said, exactly how he said it…
“Then, I have some information for you.” The other gangster broke the silence again, and this time his voice was the commanding one. “I didn’t know when to relay this information to the Blues, since, as you said they’re on the brink of complete chaos. We were going to wait until the Cleaner could have a look at them.”
It doesn’t surprise me that I’m lost on this whole conversation. But apparently, so is Indigo.
“Cleaner?” he asks slowly. “Do you mean…?”
“Cougar and Safire are dead.” The silence that follows the Blue’s statement is unbearable. Someone whispers in the back of my head, my lord, but I’m not sure if it’s the Greens or the bitmites or myself.
Get out of there Jack… that’s all we need. _Netto
^command: recording ended
Auditory levels: normalized
The music rings with sirens, and a slow, toxically distorted bass. The beat is slow, each strike of sound deliberate, like each move of Indigo’s. At once, it swells, and without warning breaks into a scream, a crash of guitar and percussion, an obscure, chaotic chorus. It flies around my senses, before returning to that devastating beat.
I stand up from my seat, and cross back towards the dance floor. I take one last glance back at the Blue gangsters…
The light prances off of them. I see Indigo’s shocked face, I see him trying to work out what the other has just said. As I stand there, music pounding at my back, Indigo lift’s his head. The lights move away from them, and the next time they shine on that booth, Indigo’s blue eyes are looking at me.
The music sways into a rocking, emotional rift. The singer stops the screaming and begs with his suddenly harmonic voice. Whether it’s the music or those glaring eyes, I’m struck stupid and stuck in one place.
Check him out! A sudden though forces its way into my head. I can’t tell whose it is. Give him those bedroom eyes before he skins you!
I hesitate, but there isn’t much time for that. Swallowing around my constricting throat, I roll my gaze down his body before snapping my eyes up and giving him a flirtatious wink.
He looks away from me, obviously too distracted to be compelled by the desires of a young teen like me. I spin around, swaggering out into the crowd, shaking with fear.
----------
The Green room was buzzing with talk. The tension that split the air was enough to set their thoughts on fire, and their whispers smelled like smoke. It was mid-afternoon, a time where most of the Greens were asleep or planning tactics in their own rooms, a time where the workers for club Vertigo were starting the early shifts and cleaning up from last night’s party slaughter. But not tonight. Vertigo was closed, and Arken and Darc’s gangs—and a few lowly teams of graffiti taggers– filled up the entrance hall. By this time everyone had heard the news. The Blue Gurus, Cougar and Safire had been murdered, though no one was sure who had committed the crime.
“I heard there wasn’t a trace of color on either of them.”
“I heard their color was sucked out of them!”
“It must have been a Blackshirt.”
“No, they would have made it clear it was them who did it.”
Jack sat on the scarred marble steps, listening to the gangsters whisper as he ate his dinner bar. Netto took a seat beside him. The rest of the gang was scattered about, moving uneasily through the room. Darc and a few girls Jack didn’t recognize were speaking in low voices by the wall, separate from the rest of the gangsters, and they didn’t seem to be flirting.
“What do you know about all of this?” Jack asked Netto.
“Well, whoever killed them did an expert job.” She tucked her knees and crossed her arms over her legs, looking out at the crowd of Greens. “They didn’t want anyone to know who did it. But what you overheard with Indigo and Hellion was… suspicious to say the least.”
“Indigo looked surprised to me.” Jack followed her gaze to the crowd of nervous gangsters, and he couldn’t help but feel part of that apprehension. “Well… what does this mean for us?”
Netto sighed heavily. “Indigo’s bad, Jack. He’s a straight killer. Spectrum, the other Blue he was talking about, might even be worse. They’ll fight it out, I imagine. They’ll rip each other’s throats out and whoever is left standing will take over all the Blue gangs. As far as I’m concerned, if either one of them becomes Guru the whole Street Level is fucked.”
Jack took another bite of condensed dinner. He may not know all about the Gangs’ system, or lack thereof, but by the worried expression he found on every Green’s face, he was sure this wasn’t going to end well.
“The Blues are already unstable.” Netto took the dinner from him, and bit into it. Greens passed up and down the stairs around them restlessly. “Every time there’s a new Blue Guru, a change in the hierarchy, it means hell for the rest of us. At least the Reds are organized!”
“How long have Krono and Kremlin been Gurus?” Jack asked.
“Oh, for the longest time.” Netto brushed hair out of her eyes, and finally looked over at Jack. “Kremlin’s parents were Gurus. When they died, he inherited the position. He was… six years old?”
“Damn!” Jack whistled. “I thought the Gurus were all the oldest.”
“Usually,” Netto replied. “Darc’s parents helped run the Greens and took care of Kremlin. You know, before they were killed.”
Jack glanced over across the hall, to where Darc was talking rapidly with the two girls. The Green pressed his hair back between his horns, and shook his head, eyes heavy with some dark conversation. “I… I didn’t know,” Jack said slowly, watching Darc with squinted eyes.
“You’ll be hard pressed to find an old gangster who hasn’t been killed,” Netto said indifferently. “There isn’t really a color-kid retirement plan. Everyone dies at some point…”
Down the stairs, past the crowd of Greens, across the smooth marble floor, the double doors opened to the dimming dusk. All eyes turned to the white clad man who stepped through the threshold. A hush consumed the crowd, until that biting tension in the air broke with a chain of bitter remarks.
“The fuck?”
“Fairy.”
“Why in the howling is that unicorn here? Rainbow fucker.”
Jack stood up to get a look at the intruder. He glanced past malicious whispers, shrewd expressions and clenched fists. The hatred in the room was thick in the air, but no one was moving to address the object of their anger.
Dressed in pales and whites, he gleamed against the steadily darkening street, a mirage of light. A pair of cybershades obscured his eyes, but he pressed them up through his long, silvery hair. His skin was pale and fair, like paper across his calm and narrow face. Observing the Greens patiently, his eyes flashed over the crowd, searching. The stranger appeared older than most of the Green teens, or so Jack thought.
“I sadly forgot my white flag of peace.” He projected his voice out into the long hall, with a strong but passive tone. “I hope the coat will do. I don’t suppose there’s any point in me telling you that I’m unarmed, and intend to cause no harm to any of you.” The statement should have been sarcastic, but his voice was coated with a calm that fought against the Green’s tense glares.
“What’s going on––” Jack turned to Netto.
“White Light.” She stared at the man, and shook her head. Jack was just about to ask her to remind him what that meant, but thought better of it.
Across the room, Darc stepped up in between the crowd of greens and the stranger. He crossed his arms, cocked his head. His voice was loaded with apathy, a strange hue for his normally flamboyant self. “What do you want, Rainbow Man?”
The White Light looked at Darc, and then spoke to the whole room. “I’m looking for a kid named Jack.”
Jack drew in sharply through his teeth. He began to make his way down the stairs without hesitation, his mind racing, trying to work out how there would be anyone in this city who knew him. Someone from the Resonance? Someone who knows the way in and out of this Era?
“What do you want with him?” Darc demanded.
“That’s our business.”
As Jack sidestepped between Greens, they all turned to him. Some moved out of his way, disgust crossing their faces. Some looked concerned, others betrayed. Jack ignored them all. As walked through the field of bodies, he caught glimpses of the stranger walking up to Darc. Finally, he passed the last cluster of teens, and made straight for the man in white.
“How do you know my name?” Jack moved towards the stranger. Suddenly Darc grabbed Jack by the arm and yanked him back behind him. His face was tensed with something close to anger, and he snapped his narrow eyes at the White Light.
“I’m not letting you take him,” Darc said coolly. His grip tightened on Jack’s arm. “He’s mine.”
Jack yanked his arm away, slanting a glare at Darc. The Green Gang leader blinked in surprise, and the malicious look was gone.
“How do you know my name?” Jack asked again, facing the White Light. Now that he was close to this stranger, he could feel why all the Greens were tense. He could sense some immense power about this man, some aura or light. It wasn’t in his stance, which was innocent and unobtrusive. It wasn’t in his appearance, which was slight and unimpressive. But something about him radiated control and strength.
“My name is Lucifir.” The man in white nodded his head to Jack. The musician was about to make a comment on the strange choice of name, but the next comment shut him up. “Path sent me to look in on you.”
Lucifir smiled suddenly, and brilliantly. In a whisper barely audible, only shapes of lips, he said, “I can’t believe you made it through.”
“Path?” Jack’s heart flickered with excitement, and he took another step closer.
Lucifir glanced again at Darc. “I have no intentions of stealing him from you,” he explained. “In my opinion, he should stay where he wants to. We have some… business to take care of, I think. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“You’re doing a great job of that.” Darc stared down at Lucifir, but then his malice dried up, and he shrugged. Waving his head in an offhand gesture, he added, “If you harm him, well, you know.”
Lucifir nodded. Then, to Jack, he gave a small smile. "Please come with me. I think... I have a lot of explaining to do."