Justice

...got to get home soon, not sure if there's any food for dinner... goddamn cheapskate shark, thinks he can just push me around... fuck! fuck! I never said that, I don't know where she's getting it... just want to die already, maybe I'll actually do it tonight, maybe I'll do it...

Ericka winced and ducked into an alleyway, out of the flow of foot traffic that streamed down the dusty sidewalk. The stream of thoughts continued but faded to a quieter buzz that was easier to ignore, allowing her to take a deep breath and fight the pounding headache growing behind her eyes. She didn't normally go out in such busy public areas, at least not during the day, and this was exactly why. With another deep breath she composed herself and emerged back into the rapidly-moving river of people, putting her head down and hunching her shoulders in order to push past the slower walkers so as to get to her destination as quickly as she could.

It was a moment after she realised there were no people pushing around her that both the bullet and the wave of violence hit her - both at once, a dual attack on both body and mind. The thoughts were a shout - no coherent, just volley after volley of words and images filled with blood and pain and anger. She was pretty sure she'd've been knocked to the ground just by that, let alone the sharp sting to her upper thigh.

A moment later her own panic set in as she heard screams, seemingly distant, and felt the waves of pain begin to radiate up her leg, over her entire body. Strangely, she found that her vision had gone dark, though she could sense the stampede of people running past her through the vibrations of the concrete and the jumble of panicked thoughts; the few she did manage to catch didn't make much sense, unsurprisingly.

She felt a grip around her arms and legs - her body being lifted up and moved, and the last thing she remembered was a door slamming and, suddenly everything being quiet, in a way she usually only felt when alone. The sensation was so comfortable that as she lost consciousness it felt almost like drifting off to sleep.

"Ericka? Ericka Hill? I need you to open your eyes if you can. C'mon, wake up..."

Erika's eyes fluttered open slowly to reveal a concerned face staring down at her, a grim smile of relief appearing as she focussed on it.

"Good, good. Okay, Erika, you've taken a bullet, and you're in shock, but you're going to be just fine, okay?"

She nodded, not sure what else she _could_ do, under the circumstances. She had been to see a medtech a few times in her life - once with a broken arm from a particularly bad run-in with a bunch of hooligans from her block - but she had never been in a hospital like this before, brought in on a stretcher leaking blood. She decided to try and talk. "What happened?"

"I really don't know - I think you walked into a fire fight. There's a cop waiting to speak to you, but I'll put her off a little longer if I can."

Ericka nodded again; though the tech wore a confident enough expression she could read his thoughts and knew that her condition wasn't as stable as he'd like. "Thanks."

It seemed that the tech was, however, quite adept at putting off the police - it was some time before the uniformed woman entered the room with a different tech, looking humourless and businesslike.

"I'd like to ask you some questions, Ms Hill."

"I'm happy to help," Ericka said weakly, "but I don't think there's much I can tell you." She tried not to look too cowed; no one liked being faced with the icy glare of a law enforcement agent, even innocents - and Ericka didn't know if she qualified as one of those. "I didn't see anything."

"You're a registered psychic."

Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Card-carrying member of the loony squad. "Um, yes."

"And you just happened to stumble right into a firefight, allowing the suspect to escape?"

"I was shot in the leg!" Ericka protested disbelievingly.

"Indeed. Which could be seen as a sacrifice worth rather a lot of money."

Ericka stared at the other woman, trying to gauge if this was just some inflammatory statement designed to get a rise out of her. The woman's face was impassive, and her mind... her mind was blank. When Ericka reached out to it, there was... nothing. The officer she had come into contact with during her testing certainly hadn't been unreadable, but then he had been a processing operative. And a real asshole.

"I've never been in a combat situation before. I got overwhelmed with the pain. All I got were flashes."

"Please describe to me what you were doing at the time of the incident," the other woman said. She didn't reach for a notepad, but Ericka did see some movement, almost invisible from this side, in the mirrored lens of her wraparound eyeshade.

"I was walking. To an appointment."

"What was the appointment?"

Ericka frowned. "I was going to see someone about a medical issue."

"Why were you walking?" Nobody ever walked in Big City.

"It wasn't very far from my block. I didn't want to waste my credits."

The cop pursed her lips, brow furrowed in thought. Clearly she wasn't pleased with this answer. "Why did you break into the firefight?"

"Break into... I was just walking along!"

"You left the crowd line and walked directly into the line of fire."

"I didn't realise there was a line of fire until I walked into it," Ericka said testily.

"Despite having not only full vision in both eyes but the ability to read minds."

Ericka opened her mouth to reply and then shut it again, wishing she could do more than shift slightly where she lay on the bed. "I was distracted."

"Too distracted to notice a fire fight? That's pretty distracted," the cop deadpanned.

"Are you calling me a liar?" The words were out before Ericka could stop them, and she felt her cheeks go red. Shit, mouthing off to cops, that's a good way to get pulled in and you don't want that, you really don't...

"Negative. I'm attempting to ascertain how it is that you didn't notice the altercation taking place given your particular talents."

"By the time I noticed something was wrong, it was too late to do anything about it."

"So to be clear then, you claim to have no connection whatsoever to the suspects, and to have walked into the line of fire by accident?"

"Of course I don't have any connection to them, I'm not a criminal," Ericka protested.

"Noted. We'll call you in for a more thorough interview when you've been discharged."

"But I've already told you everything!"

"It's just procedure. Good day to you, Ms Hill."

"But--" It was futile to protest; the cop was gone a moment later, leaving only a brisk air of efficiency and competence behind her.

 

They were worried about internal bleeding, apparently. Hardly an expert on such things, Ericka had always sort of assumed that internal bleeding was something that only happened with your gut, or your lung, but apparently this wasn't the case, and she was sent away with a rash of medications, and strict instructions to come back if there was any darkness or swelling of her thigh.

The cops were still outside when she left the building, distinctive in their dark car with its rich blue stripe. She tried not to look at them.

There was no way she could walk back to her block from the hospital, so reluctantly she stepped up to the transport queue, digging in her pocket for her credit pass. Might as well, since I'm not going to get to score today...

The transport was filthy and noisy - even without her abilities it would've been unpleasant. As it was, with her head banging and her leg throbbing, it was almost unbearable. More than ever she craved a fix - just something to quiet her head and let her ignore the worst of the pain in her leg - but the area would be locked down now and she knew better than to get caught in the same place twice when the cops were already wanting her in for 'questions'.

There were ten stops 'til her block - every couple of minutes the transport came to its smooth halt, the machinery as well-tuned and optimised as the interiors were rinse clean (for all that they only saw said rinsing twice a day and managed to become utterly disgusting in pretty short order after each cleaning), the packed-in passengers hanging onto railings and hoops to cushion the stop nevertheless because nothing was padded in here, all hands gloved, the poor obviously distinguished from the rich by their face masks, indicating who was and wasn't on the weekly vax plan that kept one safe from the latest mutation of airborne superbugs. As a code 3 telepath, of course, Ericka was one of the lucky few on state medical. Not important enough to be of use in peacetime, but on-call permanently should someone somewhere decide she was wanted. People like Ericka were generally considered the lowest of the low; too weird to be trusted to hold down an ordinary job, but too weak in their abilities to be of daily use.

That was, of course, as she wanted it, and what she had manipulated the system to get. It hadn't been her finest hour, lying to the state examiner who had put her through a barrage of psychic tests and examinations when she turned eighteen, but she had long since decided she didn't want to be one of the almost universally feared and reviled PsiCorps. Better a liar and a freeloader than a cop and a freak, had been her motto at the time, and though she sometimes regretted not taking advantage of the protected penthouses and increased credit allowances the Corps were gifted with she valued her freedom and autonomy too much to give it up now.

It worried her, though that the military police seemed to have moved on since her testing days - in her time in those labs she had never run into a single cop as unreadable as the one who'd visited her at her bedside. The ambulance, she knew, had had a dampening field on it - now that she thought back she could see that in retrospect. But in the hospital she could hear the techs that had come back and forth and only that cop had been silent.

As if that glare wasn't intimidating enough on its own... Already wary of law enforcement, Ericka had to admit the woman had been one of the more formidable specimens she had come into contact with, with her full lips permanently set in a humourless line and sharp cheekbones that served to make her look wholly unapproachable. The effect had not been helped by the mirrored shades that all cops wore on duty, completely hiding their eyes from view. I wonder what colour that glare actually was, what shape. The old saying about the eyes being the window to the soul wasn't really true for Ericka, of course, but still, it was nice to be able to look someone in the eye when you talked to them. She knew the effect was intentional - the shades could easily be clear, at least indoors. It certainly worked to remove all sense of the underlying emotions of the wearer when one couldn't read their thoughts.

The more she thought about her the more the other woman made her skin itch, and it was with great relief that she squeezed out of the transport pod and scurried up the walk towards her block. Her apartment was in a relatively good location, on the corner of the 37th floor, with a (mostly) working lift just down the hall and a row of restaurants and entertainment shops on the three-dozenth floor below. Another few minutes and she was upstairs, closing the door behind her and sinking gingerly onto the sofa, her injured leg stretched out in front of her. Her apartment didn't have any dampening on it - she could never afford anything like that - but at least her neighbours were relatively quiet-minded, for the most part.

One one side she had a single mother with her two children. Children's thoughts had been the most painful and the most traumatic for Ericka, back when she'd manifested - they were so loud, so sure about everything. But they were also simple, and over time she'd learned to block them out almost entirely, like one might loud music from the floor below once it's gone on for long enough. They were a constant, dull thrum, not a sudden spike invading her consciousness. The mother worked two jobs and was underpaid and overworked. She was depressed and frustrated with her life, but she was getting on with it. Ericka admired her greatly.

On the other side lived to single young men, both small-time drug dealers - too small-time for her; the substances they sold were decriminalised, heavily cut with sugar powder, and absolutely no use to her whatsoever - or anyone, really. They made enough to keep them in their own vices, and they mostly thought about sex and fighting. The boys in the flat next to Ericka disappointed her with their thoughts, but did not bother her, and any time she felt pangs of loneliness or despair she reminded herself that those boys, with a string of girls coming in and out of their apartment prepared to fake any number of orgasms to get a fix or just some attention, were every bit as lonely as she was.

After a few minutes sitting around feeling sorry for herself Ericka hauled herself up again, limping to her little kitchenette and boiling up a satchet of coffee to sip at as she considered her options. Going out was off the cards - it was getting near curfew anyway, and though she could usually avoid the patrols easily enough she wasn't very quick with her leg all stapled up right now. Her best bet was just to head downstairs for a bite to eat and then back home for a long, probably sleepless night, but just the thought of another stretch of telepathically-induced insomnia was enough to make her want to cry and so it was no surprise when she picked up her fone and spoke a short number aloud, tapping her good foot impatiently as it bleated in her ear. Finally someone picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Felton, it's me. I need a favour."

There was the snap of chewing gum. Felton was always chewing on something, to stop him from grinding his teeth down to tiny pegs. "You always do, babe. What can I do for you?"

"I got a bit messed up today - walked into a firefight over by the Limelight. Some turf thing, I guess."

"Aw, shit, Ericka, you need to go to hospital if you're hurt, I can't-"

"No, no, they patched me up fine, it's just that I was on my way to see Farradyn and I never got there, and now it's too late to go out..."

"...so you want a house call... I get you."

"You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but my head's been pounding lately. I just need a little Stun so I can sleep for a bit."

"All right... but babe, this is risky for me too, y'know. Curfew is curfew. I'm gonna need a favour."

Of course you are. Ericka sighed. "Yeah, alright. You got something in mind?"

"Mm, got someone, uh, staying over... right now who's telling me a story that... well, let's just say it confuses me a little. You able to come over and have a word with him tomorrow?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Good, thanks, babe. I'll be round in a few hours - sorry I can't come right now but right on curfew is when the filth crawl the streets fining stragglers, you know how it is."

"Uh huh. It's cool, I'm sure I'll entertain myself until you get here." Ericka said her goodbyes and hung up, frowning at the picture of the fluffy kitten on her wall, hung there as a joke back in happier times. Don't even try to lecture me, whoever made up the bulk of 'Ethics in Psionics' obviously never spent a week straight unable to sleep because of all the people around them fucking and fighting and plotting and stewing. The kitten said nothing, just stared at her with its large yellow eyes. If only everyone was as silent as you, then I wouldn't have to do this crap.

 

It was after two in the morning that Felton finally arrived. "Brought you some noodles," he said, holding out the steaming box as he entered. "Figured you probably didn't get out for food." He made his way in past her to sit down on the couch without further preamble, reaching into his jacket for the neatly wrapped package that represented Ericka's restful sleep for, hopefully, the next few days at least.

"Good stuff," he said. "I mean, not Farradyn quality, but no cheap cut shit. Should do you a while."

"You're a lifesaver, Fel," Ericka told him gratefully, fishing a pair of sticks out of a drawer and attacking the noodles with gusto.

"So how's the... leg?" Felton asked as he relaxed back into the cushions. "You get shot?"

"Yeah. They patched me up, gave me meds... apparently it could still all go wrong but luckily they discharged me. You hear anything about what it was about?"

"Nothing - certainly wasn't a planned thing. Random brawl, probably."

"Yeah..." Ericka nodded absently; there was something about that flash of anger and hatred she had been blasted with - it had felt bigger than what she'd expect from just a random brawl on the street, more menacing, premeditated. She shrugged it off. "Probably right. Can't believe I just walked right into it, I don't know where my head was."

"Don't you." Felton smirked a little - he thought he knew exactly where her head had been. Ericka liked Felton because he wasn't a liar - he was an asshole and a pervert, and he beat people up and sold drugs, but he had never lied to her, and he never tried to hide what he was thinking from her because he was completely without shame. It made him easy to be around. He also knew that she knew he was into her, and yet he'd never tried to push himself on her the way other guys might, thinking that a woman, knowing that, letting them into her apartment, well, she was basically saying she was good to go, right? On nights like tonight Ericka was glad he wasn't the kind of guy to ask for sex for drugs; she wasn't sure what she'd do if he did.

"Take a cold one, Fel, it wasn't like that. So anyway, who's this guy you've got staying with you? What's his story?"

"Well, I say staying. He'd probably rather be anywhere else. Let's just say he's not entirely keen to stick around but I persuaded him to sleep over a few so we could talk about one of Farradyn's shipments that went missing recently." A flash of cuffs and a radiator. So it was like that, then.

"Right. Well, you know I can probably get whatever information you need off him without much fuss, so don't be too quick to escalate things before I get there, 'kay?"

"Hey, you know me - I don't like to get my hands dirty if I can avoid it. Glad you called, actually; was thinking I might need to ask you over anyway. Well, you or the Fader, and you know I hate that guy."

Ericka pursed her lips; so did she, to be honest, but there was still a sort of grudging solidarity among telepaths, one that demanded she couldn't just let Felton insult him. "Hey, you know plenty of people just as bad as him that you happily do business with," she pointed out.

"Sure, sure, but he's not like you. I trust you not to..." Felton made a face. "Fuck with my head. Yaknow? And you don't like the stuff I get you to do - I know that and you know that and we do it anyway 'cause we have to - I don't like it either, much. But the Fader... he enjoys it."

Ericka's lips twisted into a frown; with her duty to offer a paltry defense done she couldn't muster anything other than distaste. "Yeah. I know. But you don't have to deal with him, this time at least. I owe you, remember?"

"Yeah, this'll pay you off. I'll be honest, if I didn't have something needing done I wouldn't be asking you anything for that shit... it's pretty weak. I mean, like I say, it's not bad, it's just... well, you know how it goes."

She shrugged the shrug of the desperate, the addict. "It's cool. Anything's better than nothing, these days."

Felton nodded, his buzz-cut head bobbing nervously on its skinny neck. "Well, guess I should get going." She knew he wanted to stay a little longer, but then, he knew she knew that, so if she wanted him to, she could easily say.

"Yeah. I'll be 'round tomorrow - will have to be afternoon rather than night, hope that's okay."

"Yeah, yeah, whenever."

"See you later, Fel."

Ericka ushered the young man to the door, politely ignoring the lingering looks up and down her body and the accompanying vivid fantasies, giving him a not-ungenuine smile before closing the door and locking the half-dozen bolts and chains and electronic locks behind him. She then retreated to her sofa, clearing away the noodle box into the trash and then picking up the packet Felton had left behind.

It was light - lighter than she'd hoped given his talk about its strength. But it would do.

Her bedroom was small and dark, the one window showing nothing but the occasional flare of light from the streets outside. Clutching the Stun in her hand, she stripped off and burrowed under her blankets, closing her eyes and listening to the hum of thoughts all around her, cocooned in a thick cloud of worries, musings and rants, feeling her leg throb with each heartbeat. And then she turned off the world.

 

"So just to be clear, you still have no idea what motivated the attack?"

Ani Martin squared her shoulders a little, stifling a sigh. "As I said, captain, my investigations have yet to ascertain w-"

"It's not rocket science, Martin - more than likely it's just gang activity, find out who controls that territory and who's been edging in and you'll find your perps. No need to spend time making this into something it isn't, not with only a few dead and no one around to mourn them."

"We're calling in the psychic again for a more thorough interview," Ani said then. "Hopefully that will shed some more light."

Her captain rolled her eyes, making no effort to hide what she thought of this line of inquiry. "A psionic hunch is no substitute for actual policework, don't you forget that."

"Just making sure I investigate all lines of enquiry, captain."

"I want the case wrapped by the end of the week, you hear? We have quotas to meet, and don't think for a second just because you're the golden girl that makes you exempt from them."

"I'll endeavour to find a resolution by then, captain," Ani said, trying to prevent a note of stubbornness from creeping into her tone.

"I said I want it wrapped. Period."

Ani gritted her teeth in spite of herself. "Understood, captain." That that's what you want, anyway.

The other woman nodded, then gave a flick of her wrist. "You're dismissed. Don't come back until you've got that done."

Internally seething, Ani took her leave, thoroughly relieved that it was the end of the day and nothing more would be expected of her on this shift, because she wasn't sure she could concentrate if there was. This wasn't the first time she had been subjected to Captain Lukas' dismissive attitude towards psis, or her rigid adherence to 'the quotas', which was possibly why she was quite so frustrated. So why don't you request a transfer? Get the hell out of this corrupted cesspool and go somewhere you might actually be appreciated?

The answer of course being that there was nowhere she could be doing so much good, particularly when she was one of the few cops who didn't just cave to Lukas' overbearing insistence on her deadlines and her answers - any answer - within certain set time limits. This gave her a certain amount of internal pride, but didn't help her much in meetings, where she rarely had the answer Lukas wanted to hear.

Still, it wasn't all bad - she did make a difference in some people's lives, and that was what mattered. Just last month she had found the culprit of a particularly heart-wrenching homicide, though Lukas' sycophants in the force had been quick to point out that it wouldn't bring back the murdered father from the grave.

This latest incident wasn't one that would usually send her 'off on one' as other members of the force sometimes put it, whether fondly or otherwise. But there was something about the whole thing that just didn't feel right to her, and she'd learned to go with that.

Which is precisely why she packed up her things for the day, including the meagre information they did have on what had 'gone down' in Limelight, and headed out for an after-curfew bar where she was due to meet an informant, someone who would be able to help her unravel exactly what it was that didn't fit about this incident.

 

The Dive was exactly that - a Dive, and not somewhere cops tended to go if they could possibly avoid it. Ani was in street clothes, now, of course, badge safely hidden away. She spotted her informant at a booth and made the briefest eye contact - possible now that she had shed her standard-issue mirrored shades - and then made her way to the bar, ordering a beer-lite and looking about idly until her contact approached.

"Hey, pretty lady, come here often?"

"Old ones are the best, eh?" Ani murmured.

"I hope that's not a dig at me," the older man said with a grin. "But yes, we are. Come sit down with me?"

"My pleasure."

He waited until they were settled in the booth before speaking again. "So. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"That attack yesterday. In Limelight."

"Ah. That one's yours, is it?"

"Can you talk about what happened?"

"Ah..." He raised his eyebrows and sat back, drink in hand. "Bit of a scuffle, that's all."

"Come on, don't hold out on me, here."

"What do you want me to say? Some punks got high, shot up some other punks. It happens every day."

"Yeah, I dunno. I get the feeling this was a little different. You could do some digging for me. I'd make it worth your while, of course."

"Ani, listen..." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. His expression was solemn. "Just leave it be, yeah?"

"Ah, now, that's what I like to hear. What'll it take, Jay? What's your price?"

"Not on this one, darlin'. I'm staying the hell away, and so should you."

"Come on, then, at least tell me why."

"Because--" He caught himself just in time and shook his head. "Ani. Trust me on this one."

"You know I'm going to look into this."

"Of course you are, because you don't know what's good for you. There's stuff going on in the city that even the cops should stay out of."

"Sounds like exactly where I need to be."

"Why?"

Ani seemed somewhat nonplussed by this question. "Because it's what I do," she said simply, shrugging.

"I never knew you were suicidal."

"I just can't leave things be."

"I can't help you, Ani. I don't want to get involved in this, and if you were smart, neither would you."

 

The words played over in Ani's head as she examined the incident footage again later that night, this time on the big screen in her apartment. It wasn't about being smart or dumb, of course; it was about doing the right thing.

The footage, taken from a camera a few stories above street level, seemed to show a relatively routine gang fight; two small groups, made up mostly of heavily-marked or tattooed young men, appeared seemingly from nowhere and clashed, pulling out firearms and shooting wildly around them before scattering and running away. So why does it feel wrong?

Frowning and running the recording back a little, Ani focussed on the edges of the crowd, looking for the psychic woman she'd spoken to the previous day. She wasn't hard to spot; she strode into the scene, head down, shoulders hunched, though she looked up suddenly as she breeched what seemed to be the unofficial 'territory line' laid out by the shooters. It was hard to tell from this distance but it seemed as if her face contorted before the bullet hit her leg and knocked her to the ground.

That made some sense, of course - though she'd had to be hard on her in the interview, Ani knew that Hill might simply have been overwhelmed by the panic of the crowd and only realised where she was a moment before being shot. Still, she hadn't been entirely satisfied with the other woman's story, and she wondered how soon she could call her in for another round of questioning.

She'd pulled her file and found nothing particularly significant, but there was something about Ericka Hill that didn't sit quite right with Ani, and she planned to find out what.

 

"Hey, Fel. It's me. Lemme in." Ericka stood in the hallway outside Fel's flat, trying to ignore the constant lapping of dirty, corrupted thoughts at the edge of her mind. She banged on the door once more with the flat of her palm. "C'mon."

After what seemed an age, a yell came from inside of, "Justaminute!" and a few moments later Felton answered the door, his pale, skinny frame clad only in a pair of worn jeans and his profusion of tattoos. "Hey gorgeous," he said with a slight smirk, stepping back to let her in.

She frowned as she pushed past him; every trip to Felton's block felt like diving head-first into a pile of garbage. "Where is he?" she asked, wanting to get it over as quickly as possible.

"In the spare room - I'll show you."

Ericka followed him into the 'spare room' - really more of a dingy closet crammed with stacks of old takeaway boxes, advert flyers and other assorted rubbish. Curled in one corner with his arms shackled to the radiator was Felton's 'guest', a young man with a large bruise forming around his right eye, the skin broken and mottled. "I told you not to hit him," she said sharply, looking at Fel disapprovingly.

Felton made a face. "Didn't," he said - truthfully. "But Jono was over and... well, you know how he likes to assert himself."

"You really need to get a better class of friend, Fel. Those assholes are going to get you in trouble one day."

"Hah, you're a funny gal." Felton's friends already got him in trouble - regularly. "C'mon, do your thing, then - that'll make him feel better."

"Yeah, okay." Ericka took a few steps closer to the young man, who stared up at her balefully. Crouching down, she chewed on her lower lip for a moment before speaking. "Listen. I think you might know something about Farradyn's missing shipment. Why don't you tell me, and then we'll let you go?" she offered.

The man - boy, really - frowned in confusion, then winced as the movement hurt his eye. "Fuck you," was his first response, his mind a confused mess of hate and fear - fear of what might be done to him if he talked, fear of what might be done to him if he didn't.

Ericka sighed. "Come on, I'm trying to help you here. Felton will let you go if you just tell us what you know - right, Fel?"

"Sure. I'll even give you enough credits to get wherever you want to." Felton was pretty sure the kid wouldn't get far regardless.

"He's telling the truth - you wanna know how I know? Because I can read his thoughts," Ericka told the kid solemnly. "Just like I can read yours right now - and this isn't some tricky bullshit to try and get you to 'fess up," she added, pulling the words straight from his thoughts. "And if you don't tell me where the shipment is, I'm going to have to go in and find it. And I don't think either of us really wants that."

The kid scowled. "Bullshit," he spat. Then, "they'll kill me."

"They'll probably try," Ericka agreed. She hated this business, hated the brutality of it all, but she had long since come to accept that she couldn't save anybody from it. They made their choices, and they had to live with them. "But the sooner you tell Fel here what he wants to know, the more of a head start you can get, and maybe you'll be able to evade them."

"I'm not saying nothing."

"That's a... nevermind." With a sigh Ericka shifted to a sitting position, leaning forward to stare the young man in the eyes. It wasn't hard finding his thoughts - they filled the room, like a nervous fish thrashing about a rapidly-draining tank.

Naturally in his panic the very forefront thoughts in his mind were the ones he most wanted to conceal. Ericka barely had to spend any time at all sifting through them before she turned back to Felton. "They siphoned it off for a rival block - had half of it sold already, apparently, even before they got their hands on the goods."

Felton was unsurprised by this. "Which block?"

"Wellington Towers... I think that's mostly the Ministry, isn't it?"

"Mm. Yeah. Fuck..."

"Fuck indeed." The Ministry were a rapidly-expanding group on the south side of Big City who seemed to claim almost near-fanatical levels of devotion from their members. This particular young man must've been a new joiner to have been caught out like this. "We got what we needed, Fel, let him go."

"Mm." Fel didn't react for a moment, his mind racing. Then. "Oh, yeah." He crouched to uncuff the kid, manhandling him roughly to his feet. Pulling a few credits from his pocket, he slapped them into the young man's hand. "Right, you. Get gone. I see you again on this side of town and I won't be so nice next time."

Terrified, the young man barely hesitated before running off - a moment later they heard the front door slam shut. "I can tell you when and where it happened, but I don't want to be any more involved than that," Ericka said then, rising to her feet.

"That's perfect, babe, thanks for this."

"Mm. We're even now, yeh?"

"Totally, totally. Unless you have any optional extras to offer." Felton smirked. He knew she didn't.

"Goodbye, Felton."

"G'night, babe."

 

It was nearly curfew by the time Ericka made her way back to her block - it seemed like it was starting earlier and earlier. She was exhausted from her journey through the city and by dealing with Felton's little 'problem', and all she wanted to do was take another dose of Stun and sleep for as long as she could.

Unfortunate, then, that she arrived back to find the cop from the previous day waiting outside her block.

She could tell immediately who it was when she walked past, head down, and felt the aura of silence envelop her. Such it was then that she wasn't surprised to hear her name.

"If you'd like to come with me, Ms Hill, we'd like to take you in for a few more questions now regarding yesterday's incident."

"I'm sorry, I can't, it's almost curfew," she said, trying not to sound too self-satisfied with her reasoning.

"We can overlook that - don't worry, you'll be escorted home safe when we're done."

"I... all right," Ericka sighed. "I'll cooperate."

"Very wise. Follow me."

She followed the woman towards a police transport, trying not to feel guilty as she climbed inside. You were a victim, remember? They just want your recollections. Nothing to worry about here...

 

The drive would have been almost peaceful if it weren't for the circumstances. The strange... field... around the as yet unnamed cop meant that the only sound in her head or out of it was the hum of the electric motor of the car. Part of her wanted to ask the other woman what exactly was going on, but she figured it might be tipping the balance of power too far in her favour. Not that I've got the upper hand here, exactly.

They were taken to the station nearest Limelight, perhaps unsurprisingly. The armoured building was as battered inside as out, though the interiors were pristine and smelled strongly of disinfectant. As soon as they stepped inside Ericka was once again surrounded by the familiar chatter of people's thoughts; she flinched slightly at the deluge.

"This way, Ms Hill," her 'host' said, ushering her along the halls past the check-in desk, where she felt the telltale click from the ID beneath the skin of her inner arm as it was read, and through to the interview rooms.

They were slightly less soulless than Ericka had expected; obviously someone had gone to the trouble of trying to make them look at least somewhat appealing. She slid into one of the chairs, drumming her fingers on the metallic table nervously. "Can I ask what your name is? I'm allowed to know that, right?"

The other woman nodded slightly, finally removing her mirrored shades to reveal piercing dark brown eyes. "I'm Lieutenant Martin," she said, taking a seat opposite Ericka at the table.

"Right." Ericka finally folded her hands together, concentrating on the other woman. Usually with a name and a direct look in someone's eyes she couldn't help but be assaulted by their thoughts and yet this time... there was still nothing. What is up with this woman?

The cop, for her own part, only raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Ms Hill, I have no ulterior motive for bringing you here. You can prod and probe my mind all you like; I have nothing to hide."

"Then why are you?" Ericka couldn't help but ask.

"I'm sorry, I don't follow you."

"I can't read you. Like, at all. How are you doing that?"

The other woman's dark brows drew together, and she leaned forward a little bit. "Really? That's very interesting," she murmured.

More like freaky. "You didn't know?"

"Mm, not as such. Well, you'll just have to take my word for it, then."

"Are you a psi too? But you're not wearing the corps badge..."

"I'm a cop. Does it matter what else I am?"

Ericka blinked. "Well, yeah."

"Why?"

"Because... if you're a psi, you're one of us. Even a sell-out psi is better than a cop."

Martin raised her eyebrows. "A 'sell-out'? Psis of a certain ability level don't get to choose one way or the other, you know that. Why would that make them sell-outs?"

"Nevermind," Ericka said, suddenly realising who she was talking to. "So is that what happened to you?"

"I'm fairly sure I ask the questions, Ms Hill."

"Well, maybe it'd help me trust you if I knew more about you," she reasoned.

"I'm not really here to negotiate."

"Fine. Then ask your questions," Ericka said sullenly, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Could you recount for me again how you came to walk into the path of the gunfight in square Limelight 3 yesterday afternoon at approximately four fifteen?"

Woodenly Ericka recounted the same story as before - she was on her way to an appointment, she was distracted, she didn't notice the fight until she had walked into it.

"What was the appointment?" Martin asked again.

"I was going to see a friend."

"Do friends have 'appointments' now?"

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do. Back when I had friends we had lunch dates, or we 'got together' or 'had a drink'. We didn't have 'appointments' - so I'm interested that that's the word you used. For your friend."

"You don't have friends?" Ericka asked, raising her eyebrows.

"It's a cop thing. So this friend. Who are they?"

"Wait, why does that matter? Aren't we talking about the gangfight?"

"Does being a mindreader mean you know my job better than I do?" Martin asked, looking mildly amused.

"I just don't see how where I was going has anything to do with what happened in the square."

"Well, that's why I'm a cop and you're a civ."

Oh is that how it's going to be? "Look, I've told you what I remember. Can I go now?"

"I don't think so, Miss Hill. Given your abilities and your proximity to this incident, I put in a query with the psi testing unit, and they recommended you be referred for a hypnoscan."

Ericka sat up as if she had been dosed with Jump. "What?"

"It's just policy with low-level psychics - we need to be sure there isn't something you saw or heard that you don't remember due to the high level of stimulus you subliminate on a day to day basis."

"I'm sure there's not, I'm very good at remembering these things, I swear. If I had anything else I could help you with, I would, believe me."

"I'm afraid it could be an unconscious thing, Ms Hill, I can't go against policy on this, not when we have criminals to apprehend. I have an appointment for you set up in half an hour's time, which is just enough time to get us over to the testing unit."

"Half an hour?" Ericka asked, rising. "I can't, I'm sorry, I have things to do tonight, getting together with friends, I really can't miss it..."

"Ericka, you have no job, no family, and I'm sure any other 'appointments' you have can wait. I'm afraid you're at the city's pleasure for the time being. So just relax, and try to keep your head clear - you don't want them to have to give you something to calm you."

The colour drained from Ericka's face. She's right. If you're going to fool the hypnoscan you need all your wits about you. "Yeah. Sure. Okay."

The other woman tipped her head to the side, looking almost sympathetic. Ericka, for once, had no idea whether it was an act. "We're not trying to give you a hard time here, Ms Hill," she said. "We need to get to the bottom of this attack, and even if you don't remember it now, you may have heard something that can help us."

Ericka wished, not for the first time, that she hadn't stumbled into that gangfight the day before. "I sincerely doubt it. But okay. Let's go."

 

The psychic testing unit was across town, but they apparently wouldn't be travelling above ground to get there. It was well-known - among Ericka's type of people, anyway, that there was a vast network of access tunnels running beneath the various police stations around the city, and this was not the first time Ericka had travelled them.

It was the first time she had done so in a nippy little automated police transport, however, crammed almost knee-to-knee with the inscrutable Lieutenant Martin. When she wasn't trying to prep herself for the testing Ericka took advantage of their proximity to check out the other woman, try and get the measure of her.

The other woman was taller than her, though only by a little, with a slim but solid frame and a bearing that suggested she was more than capable of handling herself in a fight if needs be. She was wearing an unarmoured uniform, obviously kitted out for a day in the office, though Ericka could see cruel red marks behind her ears recalling the shades she'd been wearing earlier in the day.

Her face, Ericka had already had a chance to examine, even without shades, now. It was kinder than she'd expected, those brown eyes missing nothing but not without sympathy. It was unfortunate that, with someone like Ericka, it was so misplaced, she found herself thinking with a characteristic stab of self-loathing.

Still, you just have to get through one last test and you'll be free to go your own way again. She had practiced a lot to be able to trick the initial examiners but had never been put through a hypnoscan before - from what she had heard it was nigh-impossible to fool. The question was whether it would be able to detect how deep her abilities ran, or whether it would be satisfied by skimming her memories of the day before, taking only what was relevant to the case. I guess we'll find out.

 

The pristine white corridors and rooms of the testing unit were familiar to her. She was surprised, though, to be taken not into one of the stark, cold test rooms and hooked up to one of their many machines, sensors gelled and attached to her head, but instead into a rather ordinary looking office, containing an old fashioned comfortable armchair, and a middle-aged man with a cardigan and glasses.

"Won't you sit down, Ms Hill?"

"Er... sorry, I'm here for a test," Ericka told him, hovering indecisively by the armchair. "Is this the waiting room? I think I'd rather stand."

From behind her, she heard a low chuckle. "I'll leave you two to it," Martin said, before turning and shutting the door behind her.

"This is the test, Ms Hill," the little man said, pushing his glasses up his nose and gesturing to the seat. "Please. Do sit."

"Oh. Right." Ericka folded into the chair, hands on her knees. "What do I need to do?"

"Would you like to play cards?" The man reached into a desk drawer and brought out an ordinary pack of Nova cards, though they stood out for their newness, never used and still in their cellophane.

"I, uh... you said this was supposed to be a test?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "It is," he said, "but that doesn't mean it has to be uncomfortable."

"Right. Well, let's get this over with, then," Ericka said, leaning forward over the desk. "Deal me in."

 

They played cards for some time, several rounds of both Nova and Bluff, and they were some way through their sixth game before Ericka realised that, like Martin, this man had no read. Having been a few minutes in the lieutenant's company had made her forget for a little while the usual experience of speaking to other people, and so she just hadn't noticed.

She gave a start when she realised, looking up in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"Pardon me?"

She felt her heart begin to race. Had he been reading her? What had he seen? "I don't want to do this any longer. I want to leave."

"All right," he said congenially. "Off you go, then - the door's not locked, and the lieutenant will be waiting outside."

"Wait - that's it?"

"If you like."

"But what... what are you going to tell them?"

"This isn't a test you pass or fail, Ms Hill, you don't need your results. Have a good day."

"I have a right to know what you read from me!" she said, her voice growing louder, shriller.

"I'm not the reader, Ms Hill - I'm afraid I have no idea what the results of your test are. If you have any further questions I'm afraid you're going to have to take it up with the lieutenant."

"You know, maybe you cops'd have more friends if you weren't so damned mysterious and annoying," Ericka fumed, though more as a cover for her nerves than anything. The man's only answer was a beatific smile. Hunching her shoulders, she pushed her way out of the office to find Martin waiting outside, just as he had said.

"I've had enough. I want to go home."

"As you please. I'll drive you back."

"Fine."

 

The drive back was silent, in all its fashions. Ericka felt on edge, twitchy and suspicious, but she didn't dare open her mouth to fire the barrage of waiting questions at the cop for fear of giving herself away inadvertently. If they're letting me go everything must be cool, right? It's not like they know exactly where I live and could track me down at any moment, she thought, somewhat bleakly.

"Well, here we are," Martin said as they pulled up outside her block. "Sorry for taking up so much of your day, Ms Hill - your help is appreciated."

"Yeah. Sure," Ericka said with a jerky nod. It was dark outside; no one stood outside the block to watch her open the door of the transport and slide her legs out.

"D'you need me to see you up to your door, or are you safe once you're in the block?" the other woman asked now, almost gently.

Safer than a cop would be, coming out alone. "I'm fine."

"All right, then. I'll see you again soon, perhaps, Ms Hill."

"Yeah, sure." I really, really hope not.

 

Ani fanned the cards out on the table in front of her, closing her eyes and taking a few slow, deep breaths as she rested her hand on top of them, fingers crawling past each card, one by one. There were the usual sensations of tobacco and ink from Wilber, familiar enough that she just skated over them and their associated memories and focusing instead on any new feelings instead. It wasn't hard to pick them out, edged with nerves and something almost sickly-sweet, like candy that had been left to decay. Sifting through this slight fuzziness, she tried to move past the feelings and thoughts to get to the mental images that lay behind them, to push back through time to any memories from the incident at Limelight, whether remembered or half-remembered.

They weren't far below the surface, and eagerly Ani dove towards them only to be knocked back suddenly by a wave of sensation - noise and emotion, mostly, overwhelming the other sensory information she usually got from a reading. She'd never felt anything like it, and it was all she could do not to simply break contact completely, never mind try to sift through the din for anything usable. Gritting her teeth, she pressed on, picking out a few useful pieces - shouts from the crowd, a glimpse of one of the gang-members from closer up - but when she pulled back she was mostly left with the impression of an unruly din of information that made it difficult to remember what she had seen. What was that?

Shaking her head to clear it, Ani reached for her com, punching in a name she hadn't in some time.

"Yep?"

"Lief, is that you? What're you up to right now?"

"Hello to you too, Ani. I'm well, thanks."

"Are you free? I need a second opinion on something."

"Yeah, okay. Gimme a minute, I've got to finish up this paperwork."

Lief Ingles was the only Psi Ani had ever met who had an ability anything like hers. That was the problem with psis - they didn't come in types, really, and no two were alike. They could be categorised into a few broad areas and given a power rating, but that was as far as it went. So while Lief read objects, like Ani, what he would discern from them would be very different from what Ani got, sorted not by time but by strenth of memory. Still, maybe this time they'd be close enough to one and the same.

He showed up a few minutes later, as tall and blond as always, towering over her before he took a seat on the other side of her desk. "So. What do we have?"

"Could you... take a read on these?" Ani said, gesturing to the fanned cards. "Tell me what you think?"

"Mmhmm..." Chewing his lower lip the way he always did when he took a reading, he stretched out one broad palm and laid it over the cards, closing his eyes. A moment later he opened them again, sitting back in his chair and giving Ani a confused look. "Is this some sort of prank?"

"What? No! ...Why?"

"Why did you get me all the way down here to read one of our own?"

"One of? Oh..." Ani shook her head. "She's not a cop."

"Bullshit, Ani. You don't get a psi that strong outside the Corps. Terrible control, though... is it a rookie?"

"Lief, that read is from a level three civilian."

The psi blinked. "No, it's not. Did you not feel that? That's some major telepathy right there."

Ani's mouth hardened to a thoughtful line as she frowned back down at the cards. "That was what I thought. Thanks, Lief."

"Yeah... sure." Lief pushed back the chair and stood, looking as if he still wasn't sure if he was being pranked or not. "Y'know, a civ at that level... the corps are going to want to know about her."

"I know." Ani's frown didn't shift. "Thing is, I'm still hoping she can help me with an investigation. If they pack her off to detention for further testing..."

"Then the run-off-its-ass Corps gets another psi to help with the workload. Salena won't be happy if you keep this quiet, Ani."

"I'll report her, I will, I just..." Ani shook her head. "I need some time. You'll keep your mouth shut, won't you? She's one of ours..."

"Yeah, yeah. Got too much on my plate to chase this up even if I wanted to," he said with a wave of his hand. "Just... well, don't leave it too long. For her sake as much as ours. It's got to be hell walking around with that in your head all day."

"Yeh." Ani made a face down at the cards. "Yeh, got to be."

 

Ericka woke up with a pounding in her head. It was strange to realise, after lying in bed for a few moments, that the pounding was echoed in the outer room of her apartment as somebody thumped on the door. "Okay, okay, I'm coming," she groaned, pushing herself out of the cocoon of blankets she had been sleeping in for the last twelve hours and trudging to the door. She leaned against it and pressed the comm button with the back of her hand. "Who is it?"

"City PD, can I come in?"

"City PD..." Oh shit... "I thought I was all done dealing with you guys. I told you everything I remembered, I did your little test... what more could you want from me?"

"I just have a few more questions, Ms Hill. Can I come in please?"

With a grimace Ericka stepped away from the door, deactivating the locks and pulling it open. The same woman from before stood there, looking as intimidating as ever and feeling as blank as before. "Uh, Lieutenant Martin. What a nice surprise."

"I'm sure." Martin nodded through the door. "May I?"

"Yeah, sure." Ericka took a tiny step back. "Come on in."

The other woman glanced around Ericka's apartment as she entered, her movements sharp, almost jerky, as though she was on guard for some reason. "Shall we sit down?" she suggested.

"Okay." Ericka's head was throbbing from her hangover, each thought from her neighbours like a loud, grating screech in her brain. She sat down gingerly on a turned-over crate, leaving the shabby sofa for the cop to sit on.

"You look a little pale, Ericka," the detective said as she took a seat, her voice almost gentle. "You feeling okay?"

What, that's your pressing questions? "I'm fine."

"It must be hard. Going on day after day with that noise in your head and only street-grade stun to muffle it."

Ericka put on her most puzzled expression - which wasn't hard. "Excuse me?"

"You're not a level three psychic."

"Listen, I don't know what happened down at your precinct or whatever, but I've already been tested, and I've got my papers to prove it. So unless your own people messed up somehow..."

"Yeah, they messed up all right," Martin said. "Or you lied to them." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, taking in Ericka's expression. "I'm thinking you lied to 'em."

"I'm flattered, but seriously, you think I managed to fool PsiCorps?" Ericka looked incredulous. "C'mon."

"Could. Did. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

Ericka felt a flash of panic, and stood suddenly, glancing towards the door. "I don't get it..."

"Sit down, Ms Hill, you're not going anywhere. Now, I'm not minded to turn you in, but we're going to have to talk about this. So d'you want to sit down?"

Not really. "Listen, unless you have any proof..."

"Let's assume that I do, otherwise I wouldn't be here. But listen, I'm on your side, okay? I want to help you."

"Me participating in this little charade doesn't mean I'm admitting anything. But sure, go on, tell me why you want to 'help' me so much," Ericka said, covering up her nerves with a show of bravado.

"Because I think you can help me. Look, you know how they feel about adepts who try to get out of service. I want to give you a chance to turn yourself in on good terms."

"I'm not turning myself in!"

"You'd rather I just reported you? Believe me, that won't look as good..."

You're not caught, you're not caught yet... "Listen, you said I could help you," Ericka said desperately. "I'll agree to help you if you agree to go away afterwards and leave me alone. Okay?"

"Sorry," Martin said, making a face and shaking her head. "Can't do that. But I can present the force with a newly awakened adept who's only just reached full potential, who's just helped me crack a potentially important mob-related case and who I recommend for consultation cases. Nice quiet office to work in, a few reads a week, no beat work... I can't make any promises but I'm pretty sure I could swing it."

"But I don't want to work in an office, I don't want to work for you at all! Don't you get that?"

"I do, Ericka. But you got caught. You can't just hide away here any longer. Even if I wanted to lie I'd be picked up next sweep, and then we'd both be in it."

"Damnit!" Ericka spun away on her heel, reaching up to place her hands either side of her throbbing head. "This isn't fair. You can't just tell people how to live their lives, you have to give them a choice..."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Martin said. "Look, I didn't make the law, I just try to enforce them as best I can. I didn't choose this path, but I'm trying to do as much good as I can with what was given to me. I want to help you do the same."

"When did they get you?"

"Hm? Oh..." Martin frowned. "That's not important."

"Why not?"

"Because this isn't about me."

"Then who is it about?"

The other woman sighed, getting up from the couch and putting her hands in her pockets. She wasn't in uniform, Ericka realised now - she was still so imposing without it that she hadn't even noticed before now that her black slacks and top weren't in fact regulation issue. "Look, if you don't want to work with me on this, I understand," she said, her tone resigned. "I guess I just hoped... it doesn't matter. I can leave it a fortnight - any longer than that and it starts to look like more than slow casework. If you want to... 'disappear' or whatever, that should give you time. Chances are they won't pick me up on a scan. Maybe."

Ericka frowned, a sudden pang of guilt overriding the paranoia that had been looming over her. "Waitaminute. I just... I don't get how I can help you on this. I honestly told you everything I know."

"No," Martin said sadly, shaking her head. "You haven't. You and I both know that there's no way you could sort through the din that hit you in that fight, not alone, not with your lack of fine control. You've told me everything you consciously remember. But not everything you know."

"And you can help me?" Ericka asked dubiously.

"Maybe. I don't know yet. But I'd like to try."

"Do I have to go back there? To the precinct?"

"I don't think that would be a very good idea."

"Okay."

Martin raised her eyebrows. "Okay... what? Okay, you'll work with me on this?"

"Well it's not like you've given me much of a choice," Ericka pointed out, frowning. And I need to buy some time...

"All right. Well. Not here, too noisy, I'd bet. Not my place either though, obviously, hm." Martin frowned, glancing around at the small lounge. "Maybe I'll just get this place proofed. You in tomorrow?"

"...you'll get my entire apartment proofed. Tomorrow." Ericka blinked. "Just like that?"

Martin shrugged. "Sure. No one in your position should have to live like this without proper proofing. First thing, all right? And I'll be round later on, can you stay in for the day? I'll bring some painkillers for your withdrawal."

"My... yeah, okay." Maybe this'll be better than I thought...

"I mean it, Ericka, I need you clean if we're going to do this. I know it'll be hard, but once your apartment's quiet it'll get easier. I'm going to be here for you, and I'll bring pro-grade numb, but the rest is up to you - do me a favour and try, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll see."

Martin frowned at this, but she seemed to decide that further argument wasn't worth her while, and she stepped back in the general direction of the door. "I can't really tell you to keep this to yourself," she said. "But I hope that you will."

Ericka wrapped her arms around herself, pursing her lips. "Yeah. Thanks for stopping by, Lieutenant. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes. You will."

 

As the door shut behind the cop Ericka considered her options - which were frighteningly few. She could still run, of course, even if she didn't have a fortnight's grace with her connections she could probably find a hidey-hole somewhere that the cops couldn't find her.

But how long would that last? Someone with Ericka's issues and requirements just couldn't flit from place to place - she'd quickly lose all sense of self, all perspective on the world around her. Even assuming she could get hold of stun, days and days in hideouts and safehouses with the scum of the earth, the city's most desperate, would soon drive her quite literally mad.

She tried to look on the bright side - if Martin was going to proof her entire apartment she couldn't be planning to drag her out of it any time soon, could she? Maybe if she was exceptionally cooperative she could still convince the other woman to leave her be at the end of it. Yeah, that's definitely going to happen. Get a grip, you're screwed, royally.

 

Ani's heart was still hammering as she exited the building. What the hell are you thinking? You can't really be considering trying to help this woman get off lightly for lying to avoid service? And what are the chances you can really help her?

She hadn't been lying when she had said that getting caught trying to cover this up would get both of them in real trouble - she wasn't sure which one of them would be worse off, only that they'd both regret it in the end. She had no interest in making a worse name for herself in the force, so why was she even entertaining the idea of working with Hill?

She had thought at first that it was just a desire to crack the Limelight case - she was sure that there was something in that cacophony of thoughts that could help her place the reason for the fight. But thinking about it, she knew there was more to it than that. Ultimately, she also wanted to help Ericka Hill, if she could. She knew that the other woman clearly didn't want to be on the force, but the life she had couldn't be the one she wanted, surely? Perhaps she could help them both.

If she'll let me. It was clear that Hill had very little regard for cops, and given how elusive she had been with the truth about her abilities Ani wasn't expecting her to be the most cooperative subject. She hoped that a show of good faith like proofing her apartment and helping her off the shitty drugs she must be dosing herself with would have a positive effect, but it was a risky gambit.

Still, that was for tomorrow. Arriving back in her own well-armoured apartment (though armoured against physical rather than mental assaults in her case) Ani booked in Ericka's proofing, and then logged onto the Network to while away a few hours before sleep.

There were no messages for her - there never were - but that was fine. There were plenty of channels of entertainment out there, from the sordid to the intellectual and everything in between.

Selecting an old nature documentary, featuring largely creatures that were now long-extinct, Ani sat down with a bottle of beer, letting her mind wander between the screen in front of her and the images of the beer bottle's travels from the plant to crate to shelf to her hand. It was a common enough way for her to relax, and as she cast her mind back she felt herself begin to unwind from the afternoon's somewhat harrowing meeting. Really, it wasn't any more troublesome than any other snitch or contact, and she still believed that Hill would somehow be able to put the pieces of the Limelight case into place. Everything's going to be fine...

 

Silence. Total, blessed silence. Ericka had experienced it before, of course - in sealed rooms and similar. But never from the comfort of her own bed.

The installation hadn't taken long at all; the workman, obviously a bit confused at having to work in such squalid surroundings, had made a quick job of it and then left, allowing Ericka to curl up to enjoy the peaceful quiet on her own. For the first time since she had moved in she was blissfully unbothered by her neighbour's thoughts - it was heavenly. It was like top-quality Stun without the mind-numbing sensation that left her groggy and barely able to move her limbs, and the morning-after splitting headache.

Not that her head didn't ache - her withdrawal had more than set in at this point, and she was currently enjoying periodic shivering fits that meant she was less than keen to emerge from her bed and brave the world until she absolutely had to.

If she had had any, she would've taken more Stun - screw her 'recovery', she was miserable - but a call to Fel the night before hadn't gone very well.

"Hey, Fel, it's me."

"Oh, hey Ericka, what's up?

"Listen, I was just wondering if you had a little more Stun for me, I--"

"Sorry, babe, no can do."

"What? Why not?"

"They say you had a cop sniffing around today. I can't get involved with that, not now."

"What? Fel, c'mon, it's just about the Limelight incident, it has nothing to do with the Stun, I swear."

"Sorry. Look, don't call for a while, okay? Gotta lay low just now."

"Is everything okay, Fel? You're not in trouble, are you?"

"Huh? Oh, no more than usual, babe, don't worry about it. Just... I gotta go. I'll speak to you soon, 'kay?"

"...yeah. Yeah, okay. See you later, Fel. Take care."

"Mm. You too, babe. And I really mean that. Later."

Still, the shivering was easier to take without the din in her head, and she wrapped herself in her blankets and hunkered down against the fits, wishing she had thought to go out and get food earlier in the day. Later. One thing at a time now. Just enjoy the quiet.

 

The door slid open to reveal a considerably more worn and sicker looking Ericka Hill than Ani had left behind the previous night. A slight twist of guilt coiled in her stomach. Stun wasn't just a drug for people like Ericka; it was medication - as a cop she'd have high-grade, low-strength stun on prescription - and Ani had made her go cold on it with no notice.

"I brought some noodles and painkillers," she said quietly as Ericka stepped back to let her inside. "How's the insulation?"

"Pretty good, yeah," Ericka replied, arms wrapped around her middle, shoulders hunched. Her light brown hair was messy, stuck to her neck and forehead with sweat, though she had tried to make it look a bit more presentable before opening the door. "Thanks."

"Good. Good." Martin nodded, and passed Ericka as she made her way through to the lounge, placing the noodles and bottle of painkillers down on the table by the couch before taking a seat. The young woman's eyes darted between the cop, the food, and the meds. Eventually she took an awkward step forward and scooped up the bottle of painkillers, fighting with the top for a moment before she got it open and dumped a few pills into the palm of her hand.

With a rather dry smile, Ani rose to her feet again. "Sit down," she said, apparently unheeding of the number of pills Ericka seemed to be about to consume. "I'll fetch you some water."

"Thanks but," Ericka said, popping the pills in her mouth and swallowing them down, "I don't need any."

Ani winced. "Great way to rip up your oesophagus, that. I suppose you know that though."

"Are you a doctor as well as a cop? Huh. You must not have very much free time."

Sinking back down into her seat, the cop rolled her eyes. "You'll want to have something to eat before we start."

"What are we going to be doing, exactly?" Ericka questioned, retrieving a pair of chopsticks from the small coffee table and then the box of noodles. "You are a psi, aren't you?"

"Mm. Yes. Thought not a telepath."

"Then what?"

"I'm a psychometrist."

Ericka frowned at the other woman over her noodles. "A what?"

"I read objects. Their history, the memories of those who've touched them."

"Oh. So you're going to read something of mine to get my memories?"

"Not this time, no."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to try... I want us to try to work together to filter through your memories. I've got your cards from your test the other day with me. I'll read them, you can read me, and-... what is it, what's wrong?"

"I can't read you, remember?" Ericka shook her head. "Your plan won't work."

"Ah, yeh, I thought of that," Ani said, reaching into her pocket. "I brought a few tabs of phase. I think they should probably loosen up whatever's stopping you from getting through, for a bit at least."

"Right. Okay." The other woman concentrated on her food then, her expression less than thrilled.

"My hope is that with your ability and my discipline, we might be able to sort through your memories together."

"Yeah. Great."

"I do appreciate that you're doing this."

"Uh huh."

Ani said nothing more, just peeling one of the little round spots of pigment off the film she'd retrieved from her pocket and reaching into her mouth to press it to her gum somewhere near the back. Almost immediately she gave a long sigh, resting back into the worn cushions of the couch.

"Ever done it before?"

"Not since I was a... um... not since I was a kid," Ani said, shifting a little where she sat. "Don't remember it being like this..."

"Your power is probably stronger now." Suddenly Ericka felt a tickle at the back of her mind, noticeable among the otherwise silent mindscape.

"I don't..." Ani closed her eyes briefly. "I don't think this is related to my power." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, the important thing is that you can get through. Does it help to, I dunno, hold hands or something? It would probably help me."

"Uh, okay, hold on." Ericka put down her half-finished noodles and went to wash her hand in the small auto-recycler sink, her features set into a permanent frown. It wasn't that she cared about using phase - she had done so on many occasions in the past - but she didn't relish using it with this particular partner. She returned to the sofa and took a seat, holding out one slightly-damp hand to the other woman. "Here." Let's get this over with.

"Hang on, let me get the cards," Ani murmured, reaching into her pocket for the pack as she took Ericka's hand. As she did so the telepath felt a strange sensation, as if she was taking her own hand, though there was another layer to it, one thrumming with nerves.

"Hey. Calm down," Ericka murmured, giving the other woman's hand a squeeze. "It's okay."

"Yeah it's okay, I'm okay," Ani breathed, rolling her shoulders back into the couch and treating Ericka to waves of heightened sensation as she did so. "Shit, I know the side effects of phase but I didn't remember them being so... sorry 'bout that."

"It's okay. You need a minute?"

"No, I'm okay. Just need to lock back in. Can you... are you reading me okay?"

Ericka frowned. "You're still a bit fuzzy. Just relax."

"Yeah. Trying." Ani inhaled and exhaled a few times, steadily, and Ericka could feel her consciously calming herself, focussing on the crowd of thoughts she'd read from the playing cards, drawing out Ericka's memories and pushing them to the fore.

It was a strange sensation, having her own memories fed back to her, and she winced at the sudden onslaught, her hand tightening once more around the other woman's. "Shit. Okay. What am I looking for?"

"Don't look for anything," Ani said, shaking her head. "You're not looking for anything, to begin with, you're just... okay, hold onto the cards with me, and take yourself back to that day, to those thoughts, let them play out again, and I'll try to get a stronger read through you." Ani closed her eyes and sucked in a long, ragged breath as Ericka felt her fighting off another wave of drug-induced euphoria. "We can try to sort through them together - I'm going to sift out some background garbage, and then you'll read that and get a clearer signal, which I'll pull out of the cards and clean up further, and so on - a positive feedback loop."

"So you've done this before? You know it works?"

"Nope. Just a theory."

"Great."

"We'll be fine. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"All right then, just whenever you like."

Now it was Ericka's turn to take a deep breath. "Let's go."

 

Lieutenant Martin's theory was... well, not a complete failure. Ericka could see what the other woman was trying to do; unfortunately, memories, especially Ericka's memories, were slippery things. It was difficult to focus only on the 'important' ones, especially since Ericka didn't really know what the 'important' ones were, and as she cast about, trying to grasp them it seemed that a dozen more were there, battering against her pitiful defences for attention. She felt the other woman's fingers tighten around hers, though, her own thoughts zeroing in on certain areas of the morass of voices, slowly filtering some out into the background and handing Ericka back, as promised, a cleaner signal. "The gunmen, remember," she muttered quietly.

Slowly Ericka began to resolve the shooters - their faces, their clothes - and though she didn't recognise them on sight she felt sure it was a reasonably accurate description of them, which must have been of some use to the cop.

"Okay, great," the other woman murmured, frowning and closing her eyes. "Now we need to find their thoughts."

"Good luck," Ericka muttered, shaking her head. "I don't have very good control over stuff like that."

"Well, that's why I'm here to help. Don't think of them as your thoughts, just... try to get some distance, view it as an intellectual exercise."

Yeah, 'cuz I just love those. Ericka frowned, realising a moment later that the other woman could probably hear or at least sense the sentiment behind her thoughts. "Okay, fine. I'll try."

"Great. Remember, anyone who saw those faces from the crowd, we can dump. Anyone female, looks like we can dump. Anyone young or old, we dump."

"Uh huh, sure. Easy-peasy," Ericka said sarcastically.

"Hey, stay positive. You can do this."

"Mm..." Without further ado the young woman delved into the swirl of memories, weeding through the ones that couldn't be from the shooters and 'passing' them to the other woman to get rid of.

Slowly but surely, the picture became clearer, and Ericka found that she was able to begin to see the individuals in the crowd, match thoughts to faces. Most of the thoughts and emotions she got were panicked, afraid - it wasn't a particularly happy scene to be replaying. Pushing through it, she searched for the shooters themselves, keen to get it over with as soon as she could. Almost there, almost...

The force of the emotion made her recoil against the back of the sofa; she felt the cop do so as well and pulled away, tearing her hand out of the other woman's grasp.

"Fuck..." Ericka could feel the cop's mind reeling as if from a kick, taking the hit rather harder than Ericka in her drug-enhanced state.

"Ow," Ericka echoed, turning to face the other woman. "You okay?"

"I think so... fuck me that hurt..."

"Yeah. That... wasn't normal."

"No kidding. You ever felt anything like that before?"

"Uh. Not anger like that, no..."

"Was that what it was? I couldn't even tell - it was just like this white wall of..." Ani shook her head, shuddering.

"Yeah." Ericka frowned, unconsciously reaching out with her telepathy to check that the other woman was okay. For her trouble she felt a wave of jangled nerves, but no genuine fear or upset.

"You okay?" Ani asked now, perhaps mistaking Ericka's reaction to the other woman's thoughts as her own.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm used to it," Ericka added with a wry smile.

"Not sure I would want to get used to that..." Ani blinked a few times, sighed. "All right. All right, okay, so did you get any idea who that was coming from?"

"Um... all of them?"

"You mean all at once? That was the whole group of gunmen, all with that same feeling? What does that mean?"

Ericka folded her arms over her chest, sitting back against the arm of the sofa with a pensive look on her face. "I... don't know. Something's up?"

"That sort of cohesion of thought though. I mean, even if they all had reason to be angry... is that normal?"

"No." Most definitely not.

"Could it be some sort of drug? Do people's minds feel different when they're on something?"

"Yeah, no... it wasn't that. At least, it's nothing I've ever seen or tried before."

"Huh." Ani's shoulders slumped. "Oh well. Thanks anyway," she said now, sounding rather defeated. "For helping."

"Wait, that's it?" Ericka asked, blinking. "That's all?"

"I guess so. I was hoping we'd be able to find out something about whose orders they were acting on, why the fight happened, something for further investigation. But that's... no use to me. I'll file a report noting your cooperation and put you in the system to receive a retest from the psi unit. They'll take a while to process it, and when they do I'll get called in as a character ref - I'll see what I can do for you then."

"Wait, but... A bunch of people, all sharing the exact same mental state commit a crime... I mean, that in itself should tell you something. You can't just bin it now."

"I can't deal with this stuff alone - and I can't ask you to help me any more."

"What? Why not? Sure you can."

Ani shrugged. "I have nothing more to offer."

"Yeah, but don't you want to figure out what happened?"

"Of course I do. But that's my problem, not yours." Ani pushed to her feet. "Thanks for all your help, Ms Hill."

Ericka stood as well, feeling oddly anxious - and she was pretty sure the emotion was all hers this time. "Listen, I can help you find those guys, and maybe then we can figure out what happened to them!"

Ani frowned, eyes narrowing in mild confusion. "How?"

"I know people. I can ask around... someone knows what happened that day."

"And you think you could find out what? No, I can't ask you to do that - that sounds very much like you're going to be getting into dangerous situations."

Ericka laughed. "My life is a dangerous situation, Lieutenant. It's no more trouble than I'd be getting into anyway, I promise."

"I didn't hear that."

"Right. So you'll let me help?"

"What? Oh... I really can't. I've already broken so many rules, you have no idea..."

"Fine, forget it," Ericka said, frowning. I guess you really are just like all the others. Shouldn't be surprised, really. "Thanks for the proofing, Lieutenant Martin. I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah..." Ericka felt a flicker of reluctance, but the cop stepped back then toward the door. "Yeah, sorry about all this. I'll see you again, I suppose, when your retest comes up."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Thanks for your help on this. I truly wish it had gone differently."

"Mmhmm."

 

Ani was well and truly over her phase high by the time she got home, the disappointment and confusion at what they'd found more than enough to take the edge of the euphoria. It just didn't make sense... she had thought for sure that they would have been able to winnow their way down to the hidden thoughts of the attackers, find out what had motivated them to make such a blatant daytime attack. But the sheer force of emotion, that overwhelming hate - there was no getting past that. She didn't ever want to feel that unfiltered anger again.

Luckily, she didn't have to. With no official leads or avenues to explore she really had very little to go on, and she could at least satisfy herself that she had done everything she could to investigate it. And as such Ericka Hill can forget I ever existed, at least for a while - just like she wants.

The whole thing didn't sit right with her, though. It wasn't in Ani's nature to give up when she knew there was something going on, and in this case there was definitely something going on. Just not what she'd originally thought.

And so it was that curfew found her picking up her cell and making the one call she wouldn't have predicted she'd be making ever again.

"Ani."

"Uh, hi Sal. How's it going?"

"Can I help you?"

I bloody hope so. "Just wondered what you were up to."

"I'm working."

"And after that?"

A sigh. "I was going to go home. And sleep."

"You want to meet somewhere?"

"Is this a social call? Because Ani, I meant what I said before, I'm not interested in reliving 'old times' or talking things to death, I just can't--"

"No. I mean, not if-... no, I need some help with something. I was hoping you could... I was hoping you might have some information."

"Information? What kind of information?"

"Just... stuff you might've seen at work. Or heard."

"About what?"

"D'you want to meet up or not? C'mon, I'll buy you a late dinner."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, fine. Where?"

"Tracey's?"

"One hour."

"Great, I'll see you there."

"Sure. And Ani?"

"Uh huh?"

"Try not to look like a cop, okay? It'll really fuck with my cred if you do."

"I'll do my damnedest."

 

Looking like a cop was more about bearing than actual clothes, Ani had found, but she made an effort to dress 'street' all the same before heading out to Tracey's.

The little diner was never completely empty, but it was quiet at this time of night - the calm after the storm, as it were, the staff cleaning up from the flurry of activity that had followed kicking-out time. Only people with passes were out after curfew - this was a good few people, of course, bar workers, staff clearing up from nightshifts, and entertainment staff, like Sal. Ani of course had a twenty-four hour pass, even off-duty. It was one of the 'perks'.

Finding a booth, Ani took a seat to wait for the other woman, looking around at her surroundings with mild interest. Sweeping a finger across the seasoning pouch she was treated to a cornucopia of memories and thoughts - a bit like eavesdropping, but the people she was listening in on were long gone.

She was still sifting through memories, her mind wandering somewhat as she looked through memories, when Sal arrived.

The other woman was dressed in a skin-tight black onesuit, her red wig as bright and corkscrewed as Ani remembered. She plopped down across from the off-duty cop, raising a painted-on eyebrow at her. "You shouldn't fondle other people's stuff, y'know. It's rude."

"Her, this is a freebie. No one wants this. I could split this open and eat it right now and no one would care."

Sal made a face, reaching up to remove her wig; underneath her hair was short, nearly buzzed. She gave a sigh, rubbing a palm across her scalp. "Gross."

"Hey, I'll do it, don't test me."

"I'm really not."

Ani shot her a lopsided smirk that might at once time have gained a returning smile. Tonight, Sal just gazed at her flatly. "What do you want, Ani?"

"Limelight."

The other woman's expression didn't change. "What about it?"

"That fight the other day. You heard anything?"

"I heard there was a fight."

"Between whom?"

Sal shrugged. "Dunno."

"You sure? You haven't heard anything? Oh, it's all right," she said as Sal spotted a waitress and moved to call her over, "I already ordered - you still like 'em over easy, right?"

"Uh, yeah." The other woman blinked. "As for the Limelight, it was just a gang fight, s'far as I heard."

"You haven't..." Ani made a face. "Y'know, 'picked up' anything?" The force didn't rate empaths, particularly. They didn't have much truck with 'feelings'. Empaths never produced facts. Ani felt differently. You could do a lot with feelings when you were putting a puzzle together. The facts could come later.

"Just... the usual. Y'know, pride, anger, bravado..." Sal shrugged. "Although... I dunno, it was probably nothing."

"No, what, tell me?" Ani said, latching onto this immediately.

"Well... the guys that came in, bragging about it... they seemed kinda confused."

"Confused how?"

"I dunno, it was like they weren't quite sure what they were so proud of pulling off."

"Huh. Interesting. So... like they'd been... not themselves at the time, somehow? Or what?"

Sal shrugged. "You got me. I can tell you the emotions, I can't tell you the reasons behind them. That's your schtick."

"Hrm. You got anything any of them..." Ani made a face. "...touched?"

The other woman raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but we'll have to go somewhere more private."

"Your place or mine?"

"It'll have to be yours, I've got my brother staying over."

"That freeloader? Haven't y-" Ani broke off with a tight smile. "Sorry, old habits. C'mon, then, let's eat and get out of here."

The meal was a slightly stilted, uncomfortable affair, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as the tension once they reached Ani's apartment. What was worse, Sal could almost assuredly feel the other woman's discomfort as she looked around for the best place to do the reading - not the bedroom, but was the lounge too informal? Eventually Sal took matters into her own hands and perched on the arm of the sofa as she began to peel off the onesuit.

Ani, wishing she'd waited 'til the next day for this as she felt a slightly phase-amplified, involuntary reaction as the other woman's perfect body came into view that she knew Sal would have felt, stepped forward toward her anyway. "Okay. Just say the word."

"Go for it."

The other woman reached out, hesitating a moment. "You going to give me some clues here?" After all, some part of Sal that this man hadn't given much 'attention' to would be about as useful as touching her hands or face, which, frankly, would have circumvented this whole scenario had it been an option. When Sal just raised her eyebrows expectantly, Ani gave a sigh of resignation, and stepped closer to rest her hands on the other woman's hips, bracing herself for the immediate rush of memories and sensations, Sal's own and those of the people who'd been in contact with her that night and before, and endless parade of men - and a few women - taking pleasure in her body, and Sal's own mixed reactions to them. She had a pretty healthy attitude toward her work and her private life - she and Ani could never have been involved if she hadn't, either professionally or personally. She had her own rules and boundaries that she kept to both with her body and with her mind, and her empathic ability had left her not fragile and broken as it did some, but incredibly resilient and pragmatic, and Ani was not for the first time filled with admiration for the other woman.

"Yeah, yeah, you love me, you think I'm awesome, I get it, get to work, officer," Sal's voice floated through the morass, snapping Ani back to the present. With a frustrated click of her tongue, she pressed back in, searching for a familiar signal, a familiar identity in the mess of bodies and voices and hands and mouths.

"Green top. Dark trousers. Ridiculous hair," Sal said then - was it Ani's imagination, or did the other woman sound slightly less bored than she proclaimed to be? She couldn't ponder it for long, as she was soon able to hone in on the memories from a young man matching just such a description, thanks to an insanely long time spent primping in front of a dingy mirror before he got to Sal's place of work. Ani's cheeks coloured as the memories slipped forward to his liaison with the woman under her touch, and fought to go backwards instead, back to the time just after the shooting. Sure enough, she could catch a glimpse of a group of hoodlums, matching the memories she had gotten from Ericka, clapping each other on the back and congratulating themselves on their daring raid.

"Yeah, that'll show those assholes not to edge in on the Caesars!"

"Yeah, fuckin' weasels."

"...did you ever see 'em at Limelight before today, man?"

"What d'you mean, course I have."

"Yeah... all right. If you say so, man."

She pushed back further. Sal yelped quietly, and Ani realised she'd tightened her grip momentarily as she hit a strange, dull wall. Where the shooting happened, there was... well, not nothing, because there was the gun in his hand and there they were in the square, dodging for cover and returning fire, but it felt... disconnected, somehow, numb. Ani didn't pick up feelings or thoughts from her reads, only actions and events, so she wasn't sure if it was the effect of the phase still in her system or her earlier read with Ericka or the fact that, right now, she was reading from Sal's body, but for whatever reason this scene had a numbness to it, a lack of immediacy that sat it far apart from the rest of the memories of the kid, and moreover far apart from the memories she hit now, beforehand, of him preparing himself, psyching himself up with his gang, cursing and punching one another as they worked up the energy for what they needed to do.

So the question was, what had caused it? What had made that mental and emotional break happen? Running backward and forward, searching for that 'moment', Ani could find nothing - nothing he'd taken, nothing he'd seen or heard, no one he'd spoken to. It was as though a switch had simply flipped somewhere of its own accord.

Someone was calling her name.

"Ani!" Sal said, giving the other woman another small shake until her expression snapped back to normal. "Jeez, you were totally spaced out there. You back with the living?"

Blinking, Ani released a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Yeh, yeh, sorry, I... fuck me, I don't know what the hell that was."

"Yeah? What do you mean?"

"I..." the cop shook her head, stepping back a little and letting the other woman go. "I really don't know."

"Huh. Weird."

"Weird is right."

"Here, sit down," Sal said then, gesturing to the couch. "You look like you could use a drink."

"Mm. I mean, yeh," Ani said, sinking down onto the couch, her expression distracted, as Sal made for the kitchen area. "Thanks."

The other woman opened the fridge and retrieved two beers, knocking the caps off on the countertop in the way that Ani hated but was too befuddled to protest. She returned to the lounge, still nude, and handed over a beer before setting her own down and beginning the long process of shimmying back into her bodysuit.

"Thanks," Ani said again, taking a quick sip of her drink, eyes averted from Sal now that their 'business' was done with. Then, "Sorry."

She could see the other woman's shoulders rise and fall out of the corner of her eye. "S'fine. Sorry you didn't get what you were looking for."

"No, it's okay." Ani shuddered a little. "I... you know I hate doing that."

"You have to use what you've got," Sal said pragmatically, hopping gracefully on one foot as she tugged the other leg of the suit on.

"Yeah. I just hate... treating you like you're an object. I feel like you get enough of that already."

"Ani, stop beating yourself up. I said it's fine, it's fine, okay?"

"Yeh." Ani frowned, taking a long swig of her beer. "Okay."

"Good cop." With a final tug of her zipper Sal fell back on the couch and reached for her beer, giving a long sigh.

"Mm. Don't feel very good. You're the second psi civilian I've dragged into this today."

"There's another? Who's the poor unfortunate?"

"Oh, nobody. Just some girl."

"Nice. I hope that's how you talk about me when I'm not around."

Ani made a face. "I just mean she's not... She's an ordinary person. Well, aside from being the most powerful telepath I've ever met. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this stuff, not against her will."

"If she's that powerful isn't it her _job_ to get involved with stuff like this?"

Ani sighed. "Sure, by law. But should it be?"

Sal raised an eyebrow, one arm slung along the back of the couch. "You don't think it is?"

"Hey, when have I ever said I thought that? I'd've become a cop anyway, probably - the force works for me, I care about what I do. But that's not true for every psi. What would you have done if they'd wanted you?"

"I dunno. Probably would've done my time, did their readings, retired early on a cushy pension. But then, I don't have scruples like some people."

"See, that's what gets me," Ani said, shaking her head. "The fact that you need to lack scruples to be a cop - or at least, that's how people feel about it."

"The people you speak with, anyway. Who are mostly criminals or low-lifes," Sal pointed out.

"Like you, you mean," Ani said with a smirk.

"Yes, exactly like me. Cops make our lives harder, of course we're going to call 'em names and bitch and moan about them. Doesn't mean they don't perform a service."

"Only service I perform is getting under everybody's skin indiscriminately."

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Sal said, reaching forward to muss Ani's hair a little. "There are plenty of people who'd be glad of the stability and comforts you have."

"Yeh. I know."

"Well then. Have some more beer, you'll feel better."

"Mm. Well, you would know I guess."

"Exactly. So listen to Sal, and drink up."

"Pretty ballsy, ordering a cop around."

"Hey, some people pay extra for that."

The other woman sighed. "You sure you don't wanna stay tonight?" she offered then. Sal's ability to read her emotions sort of removed any point in her having too much pride to ask. The other woman smirked, possibly sensing these same emotions, rolling the beer bottle between her hands.

"Fine, but no talking about stuff, okay?"

"I wasn't really thinking about... talking. Per se."

"I know."

 

Sal had insisted on showering first. Ani insisted that she didn't care - she had had to learn to deal with the things you couldn't wash off a person's skin all the time with everything she touched; a little grime or sweat or whatever else just didn't have much capacity to bother her. But Sal cared, and so they'd showered together, Ani unpeeling her from the suit herself this time, and experiencing the first of several orgasms she'd have that night pressed up against the cold tile wall of her wetroom, Sal's long, ever-sure fingers buried inside her, the memories of so many previous climaxes that hand had caused rushing through her mind in spite of all her attempts to shut them out. Then there was the bed they'd shared many times before, and there it was better, easier because while Sal didn't know it (or at least, Ani was fairly sure she didn't), she was the only person who'd ever shared that bed, and those cumulated memories, overlayed on top of one another, were enough to crowd almost everyone and everything else out and for a while, it was just the two of them, and the memories of the two of them, and Ani was able to relax and just let them flow.

Afterward - well, after the last orgasm, the two women lay next to each other on the plush mattress, just breathing, Sal's memories washing over Ani like the tide. There was her long shift, the bright lights and loud music of the club, and before that, an argument with her brother over whether he had gone out looking for work yet. With a sigh Sal turned over, her expression sour. "Don't say anything."

"I didn't say a word."

"Good."

"Sal?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks. For staying."

"Uh huh."

With a groan, Ani turned and wrapped an arm around Sal, curling against her. "Fuck I'm pathetic," she muttered.

"What, for inviting me over? Thanks..."

"No, no, I just..." The other woman buried her face against Sal's neck with a sigh. "Oh, you know. Just... this eternal stasis. Nothing ever changes. And you and me..."

"Hey, Ani, c'mon. It's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

"Well, it won't always be."

"Sure. Yeah. Maybe."

"Hey..." Sal pressed her lips to the top of the other woman's head. "Empty words don't work on me, remember?"

"Mph. What will?"

"Believing them."

Ani lifted her head, giving Sal a sad smile to go with her sad state. The other woman sighed, pulling her close again. "C'mon. Let's get some sleep."

"Sorry," Ani muttered again. "I always do this, I know that. It's just... not being able to pretend, not being able to just grin and bear it with you, I just..." Melt. But then, that's why we never could've worked, isn't it? Cuddling close, Ani closed her eyes. "G'night."

"G'night, Ani."

 

Sal was gone, of course, when Ani woke. Part of her was glad - sleeping with someone else gave her strange dreams, and so it was nice to have had a quiet period of rest before she woke - no unfamiliar memories clouding her brain for the rest of the day. She wondered if this was why Sal had left, but she knew it was probably to get back to check on her layabout brother and prepare for another shift at the club.

It made her heart ache, just a little, to think that the last night - their awkward meeting, the strange investigation, their passionate lovemaking - was an isolated incident. Sal had made it very clear that despite their best efforts, a relationship between a cop and a hooker could not work out, especially when the cop was an emotional wreck and the hooker an empathic sponge. She made the other woman miserable, quite literally, and that was not a recipe for a healthy relationship by anybody's definition.

Dragging herself out of bed, Ani tried to put the morose thoughts behind her - today wasn't going to be easy however she approached it but there was no point in making it worse by moping. Today was the day she closed the Limelight case. Or rather, marked it down as 'random gang violence' and let it go.

 

As soon as she entered the precinct she could tell something was up - the floor was abuzz with motion and noise, even more than most days.

"Martin!" Her captain stood in the doorway of her office, arms folded over her formidable chest. "Get in here, we need to talk."

Stomach clenching with nerves, Ani followed her in, letting the door swish quietly closed behind her. She didn't sit down.

"There's been another incident. Another shooting, gang-related, though just one group this time. Several injured civilians, three dead."

Ani frowned. "Just one group? You mean they were targeting civs?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Did we apprehend any suspects? Do we have a motive?"

The captain raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that your job to discern, Lieutenant? What do you have on the previous incident?"

"I have a report, but in light of this I'd want to speak to any suspects in custody and review if possible."

"Fine, get on it. I want an update at the end of the day - if there's a pattern emerging I want to know about it as soon as possible so we can put an end to this."

 

 

It was with a feeling of a sort of sick excitement that Ani made her way to the interview block. She wasn't like those cops who craved the violence and disorder of the streets, but the thought that this wasn't an isolated incident was gratifying, somehow. It meant that her gut feeling had been right, that there was something worth investigating here.

They had taken in three witnesses and two gang members - there had been four, but one had escaped and the other one had been shot dead by the police. Other witnesses were in hospital, still, one of whom wasn't expected to wake up.

She met the assigned telepath at the door of the interview room - a steady but unremarkable young man named Jansen - and exchanged a nod before heading in. They made their way through the witnesses in quick succession, finding little out except that it was a seemingly random, unmotivated attack in a busy block centre.

Just before Ani dismissed the young man, she stopped him with a hand on his arm, hesitating before asking. "Jansen... I've been wondering about something. My mind. Can you read it?"

"Uh.. right now?" he asked, frowning a little in confusion.

"No, I mean... generally."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. That's... what I do."

"Huh. Fair enough." Ani nodded, frowning. "Thanks."

"Sure, Lieutenant. Can I go now?"

"Oh... yeah, absolutely. When d'you think you'll have the official report in?"

"This afternoon, I guess."

"Great, I'll look forward to it. Take care of yourself."

The young man nodded and headed off, leaving Ani alone. The gang members were still to be questioned, but they were in isolation for now, cooling off. There wasn't much for her to do but review the footage of the attack, and the witness' statements.

The footage was... well, what you'd expect, really. Loud, fast, and harrowing.

Ani turned it off as soon as she could, after taking her notes - though there was nothing notable about it, really. Which leaves me... where, exactly? By the end of the day all she had was that sick feeling, still, and no leads beyond a hunch about what she'd get out of the two gang members once she had the chance to take a read from them.

Her briefing with the captain was fast approaching, and Ani wasn't sure _what_ she was going to say. Luckily her worrying was interrupted by the bleat of her comm, and the operator who patched her through informed her there was 'a very excited young woman' on the other end of the line.

"Lieutenant Martin, is that you? It's really hard to get a hold of anyone, I don't know how you guys do it."

Ani frowned at the familiar voice. "Ms Hill? What's going on, is something wrong?"

"It happened again, didn't it?"

"...I'm afraid I can't comment on that."

"C'mon, I've heard there was a shooting and a bunch of people died. Was it the same MO?"

"Ms Hill, I'm not the cop news hotline."

"Fine, then I guess you don't care that I managed to track down some of the gang from the Limelight and talk to them."

"You did what? Fuck, I told you not to get into this, if you get yourself hurt..."

"Listen, I can handle myself. Anyway, I got some stuff of theirs if you want to... read it, or whatever."

"Oh." Ani frowned, pursing her lips in thought. Was there actually any more she could learn from more things belonging to the shooters? She'd get a cleaner read from an object than she could from Sal's skin, that was for sure, but did she need it? Still, after this woman had gone to the effort for her... "I... appreciate that, Ms Hill. Would you like me to visit when I get off-duty?"

"Sure."

"All right. I have another six hours today still, so it'll be quite late, is that all right? I could come tomorrow instead."

"Late's fine with me. See you then."

At least this time I won't be high as a kite, Ani mused as she closed the comm link. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hand from where it lay on her desk, relishing the sudden quietude the removal of that background buzz gave her. With her newfound quiet she was able to cast her mind back to her last meeting with Ericka Hill. It had been a confusing, somewhat uncomfortable encounter, unhelped by the Phase that had allowed their minds to slip past one another like fish in a bowl, each physical and mental sensation heightened by dint of experiencing it twice over. Yes, it was definitely better that she wouldn't be able to see into Ericka's mind this time - her brief foray into the world of sensing thoughts and emotions on top of her usual more manageable picture show of simple, visual memories - things seen, things touched - was one she had no wish to repeat.

The rest of the day passed without event - she managed to interview both suspects, though she found out very little helpful information from wither of them. Both seemed at once defiant and confused, and the reads she got from their effects were the same as she got from Sal the previous night - entirely normal, and this time without even the addition of that strange numbness that she'd noticed when her reading had been affected by phase. The captain was not happy to have a report with so few answers read to her that afternoon, and all in all Ani found her way home in a rather dispirited mood.

_Maybe this read that Ericka has will be the thing that breaks this thing open. Yeah, right._

 

When the knock came this time Ericka was ready. The young woman that opened the door was a far cry from the sullen junkie that Ani had met previously - she looked well-slept and bright-eyed, her hair clean and her clothes stylish, if slightly threadbare.

Blinking rather confusedly, it was a moment before Ani remembered her manners. "Um. Hello."

"Hi," Ericka said, stepping back from the door. "Come in."

The apartment, too, was a very different space. Where previously several days of food containers had been stacked on the countertop of the tiny kitchen area, and the coffee table scattered with used chopsticks and old magazines, it was now bordering on pristine, the worn furniture clean and free of laundry, the kitchen meticulously tidy.

"You, um... doing okay, then?" Ani asked tentatively, unsure whether she should avoid commenting on the change of demeanour and circumstance.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, pretty good," Ericka said with a nod. "You want something to drink?"

"Um, sure. Thanks."

"It's a bit late for coffee... you want water? Or I've got some Hooch..."

"Water's fine."

"Sure." Ericka retrieved two glasses of water from the kitchen and carried them to the sofa, taking a seat on the arm and offering Ani one of the glasses. "Here you go."

"Um. Thanks. So listen," Ani said now, "I appreciate that you want to help, but I don't know how much this stuff is going to tell me, necessarily - unfortunately the anomalies I've picked up aren't ones I can read - they're thoughts, emotions. I generally just get images and events."

"Yeah. Yeah. Um... well, see," Ericka said, slightly nervously. "I have a theory, and I think if you could just... confirm something for me, it might help figure out if it's right or not."

"Ah. What's the theory?"

Ani could see the other woman's cheeks colour slightly. "Would it be okay if you do the reading first, and then we could talk about it? I just... I don't know how good it is."

Somewhat confused now but happy enough to comply, Ani nodded and put her glass down. "All right," she said.

Ericka jumped up, rummaging through a bag by the side of the couch. She eventually pulled out a small cylindrical item - a lighter, Ani saw, once Ericka placed it on the table in front of her.

Pausing a moment to gather herself together, Ani reached forward and closed her hand around the object. Immediately her mind filled with the image of a crowded room - a party? - with thumping music and the heavy stench of some sort of vaporised drug. There were plenty of people there, though Ani quickly picked out Ericka, who struck up a conversation with the lighter's owner, a skinny young man with a buzzcut and tribal neck tattoos. He seemed instantly interested in the other woman - perhaps not surprising since now that she didn't look as though she was in the throes of withdrawal she was in fact very attractive, with straight white teeth, a slim build and sparkling hazel eyes. There was some conversation - none of it very interesting - and then she segued into asking him about the Limelight attack, eliciting the same vague recollections and answers Ani had come to expect. Not long after, Ericka asked to borrow his lighter, and from there the memories seemed to follow her back to her apartment, undressing for the night, lying in bed having a final cigarette...

"All right," she said, sitting back abruptly. "So what am I looking for? What were you wondering?"

"Um. The day before the shooting at Limelight," Ericka said, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "I think there was a party. Can you... go there? And tell me who you see?"

"Oh. Er, all right, just a minute..."

She had to go further back, but it wasn't too hard; soon enough she had found another party, though this one was even more crowded, with a dancefloor crammed with bodies and lighting that made it difficult to make out people's genders, let alone their faces.

Tell me who you see - who... Ani tried to relax and let her mind take her through the crowd, tried to zone out the loud thumping music and the rush of smells and sensations to hone in on what she could see. Her training in the Corps served her well - she was able to take in the faces and descriptions of several dozen people before she had to stop, afraid if she immersed herself any further she would need to be shaken out of it, like she had with Sal.

She found Ericka watching her expectantly. "Well?"

"Well... Ani blew out a careful breath. "I saw a lot of people," she said at last. "Some clearly. I'll see if I can do some matches."

"It's just one guy I'm curious about. He's... skinny. Blond hair, kinda buzzed off. Wears a leather jacket, mostly."

"Oh, right, yes," Ani said with a nod, narrowing her eyes curiously. "You know him?"

"...yeah. Kind of."

"Kind of how? What's the story here?"

Ericka shook her head. "So he was there?"

"Yeh, he was there. Why?"

"I dunno. He's this guy. His name's Jesse, but he calls himself the Fader."

"Fader? Wait, I've heard that name - isn't he an unlicensed telepath?"

"Yeah. And a real bastard."

"So... you think he could be involved in this somehow?"

"I dunno. I just have a... hunch." Ericka made a face. "Is that stupid? It's pretty stupid."

"I would never call any hunch a psi has 'stupid'," Ani said, shaking her head. "I'll... well, I'll be honest, though, I don't know what to do with this. I mean, I could get back into the interview room with the new guys, mention the Fader to them..."

"I don't know if it'd do any good. I don't think... I don't think they're in league with him, necessarily."

"Then what do you think? C'mon, give me something to work with here..."

"I dunno!" Ericka said, looking almost embarrassed. "I'm not an expert in this sort of stuff. I just.. look, what if he was affecting them somehow? Fucking with their minds or something. Making them do stuff without them even realising it."

"You think he can do that? Push as well as read?"

"Maybe? If he can, he's kept it quiet..."

"I see." Ani sat back with a thoughtful pout. "Right. Well, thanks for that."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Can I take this with me?" she asked, nodding to the lighter.

"Yeah, go for it."

"Great. Well, I guess I should get going."

"Oh." For a moment Ericka looked a bit lost, but then she nodded, pushing to her feet. "Yeah, all right."

Standing as well, Ani reached for the lighter, quickly placing it in her pocket. "And please, I appreciate what you've done but please, don't do it again, okay?"

Ericka shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

"Ms H-... Ericka..." Ani's hand reached out of its own accord to touch to the other woman's arm. "I just want you to be safe. You shouldn't feel like you have to do this crap, okay?"

"It's not like I have much choice, do I?" the young woman asked, frowning. "I have to be a helpful little stooge or you'll put in a bad word for me down at the Corps."

"Hey, no, listen... I'm not going to do that, okay? I have to file a report or they'll pick me up on a routine scan, but I'm not going to blackmail you. I promise."

Ericka's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "Sure. Whatever."

"Come on, I know you can't read my mind now but you could before - you know I'm not fucking around with you."

"All I know is not to trust the cops."

"Well, you can trust this one. You and me, we have something in common that's more important than what we do for a living. You may not believe that, but it's how I feel, and I'm here... I want to help you out in any way I can. I swear."

Ericka's expression grew even more doubtful, and she took a step back. "Yeah. Okay. Sure."

Ani's brow furrowed as Ericka backed off, her expression... it was hard to tell at first, partly because all her expressions were subtle and partly because Ericka was used to hearing a constant stream of thoughts to go along with anything on a person's face, but she took in the frown, the suddenly dipped eyes, the set of the other woman's mouth and realised that she looked hurt.

Damnit... "Hey, I'm sorry, okay? This is just the first time a cop has been civil to me, much less offered to help me out. It just... takes some getting used to."

"No, it's fine, of course." Ani shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I should get going."

"No, wait, you don't have to..." Ericka frowned. "I mean, yeah, okay. Whatever."

The other woman tipped her head to one side, raising her eyebrows, though her expression was otherwise sympathetic. "Take care of yourself, okay? Stay safe."

"Sure."

"Okay. See you around."

"Mm. Bye."

 

 

'Ani didn't feel much better as she made her way away from Ericka's block toward her own well-armoured apartment complex. So there was a new hunch, and a new lead to follow. But it wasn't one she was going to get much joy about when she reported it. The idea of an unlicensed psi who was also a Pusher... that was not news that was going to go down well.

'She also worried about Ericka's involvement - thus far limited to asking a few questions and taking a lighter, but she was dealing with dangerous people and could get in trouble if she wasn't careful. The last thing Ani needed was another civilian getting hurt over this, and though the other woman didn't seem to believe her, she did truly care about her well-being.

'Fighting the urge to suit-up and head back to the station for another round of interview and object reads, she instead ran herself a bath and, while she waited, comm'd Sal again.

'"Hey," Sal said, sounding somewhat hesitant. "What's up?"

'"Hey. I have... a question. Just a quick one, maybe."

"Uh huh?"

"You ever run across an unregistered psi called the Fader?"

"The Fader? I don't know, Ani, I don't get a lot of names..."

"You'd remember this guy. Skinny, blonde, wears a leather jacket. Creepy fuck, real name Jesse."

"Yeah... yeah, I think he's been in a few times. Why, is he a suspect?"

"Dunno. Maybe. Keep an eye out for him, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure, okay."

"Thanks. And Sal? Be careful, okay. I think he could be really dangerous."

"I can take care of myself, don't worry."

"Can't stop me. But I'll try."

"Yeah... okay." There was a long pause, and then Sal spoke again. "Are you doing okay, Ani?"

Ani sighed, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. "I'm fine," she lied.

"Okay. Just... take care of yourself, all right?"

"Isn't that my line?"

"Yeah, maybe. Anyway. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Great. Thanks."

 

Ani didn't feel much better as she sank into a warm bath; the water might be able to soothe away her body's aches and pains but it wouldn't banish the worries from the day's investigations.

If the Fader really did have pushing abilities in addition to his telepathy, then he was a considerably more dangerous than his current file indicated, and probably ought to be under constant surveillance. But the Captain won't be happy to hear that... Psi-Corps doesn't really have the resources for that type of job at the best of times.

So not only was she going to have to report in with yet more nebulous, inconclusive intel, she was going to need to open a new file on the Fader. Sighing, Ani slipped down beneath the bath water, closing her eyes, part of her willing the world to have disappeared from around her when she resurfaced. Sadly, it still remained when she came up for a breath, and try though she might she couldn't succeed in banishing it from her mind as she washed her hair and rinsed off under the running faucet. Sliding into bed was no better - she was immediately engulfed by memories of Sal, naked and slick with sweat, entwined about her or writhing beneath her, or holding her tightly while she sobbed over this case or that, frustrated by her inability to help the people she had sworn to protect. Worse still were the fights, sharp and bitter, Sal's words never far from her mind even when she wasn't lying here steeped in them.

"You're not built for this, Ani. You think this is your calling but you're wrong. This job will destroy you."

 

Ericka was feeling great. She hadn't had several night's uninterrupted sleep in... well, probably since she manifested, and she hadn't realised how much the constant needling of other people's thoughts had been driving her slowly but surely towards the edge of insanity. With a proofed apartment she could escape all that whenever she wanted, meaning that she was better able to deal with the din when she did go out.

In addition, it made it easier to deal with the fact that, for the first time since she was about sixteen years old, she was living without stun.

She hadn't been committed to getting clean the first time Martin had come around, but after a few days of living in proofed silence she realised she didn't need the drug like she once had. It had become almost a matter of pride to wait out the sweats and headaches until she was off the drug completely, and while she was a far cry from a 'reformed' junkie she liked the clear-headedness and motivation she felt to actually do things.

Now that she had that drive, though, she was finding it hard to actually use it. She had no job, no hobbies, and now no reason at all to go any further than the local food co-op with her meagre psi stipend. As much as she hated to admit it, Lieutenant Martin's visits and her subsequent 'investigations' had been the most exciting things to happen to her in some time. The cop's admonitions that she shouldn't get any further involved rankled; she was going to report her to the authorities but didn't think Ericka could handle herself in a criminal investigation? I probably know more than she does about this world - it's her who should be careful, not me.

Still, Martin was a cop and she wasn't. That was not, perhaps, as it was meant to be. But it was the way things were. And as such, Ericka now found herself with an awful lot of spare energy and motivation, and nothing to do with it. She had tried calling up Fel, but surprisingly he didn't answer; apparently he had been serious about 'laying low' for a bit. Outside of Felton Ericka was a bit surprised to realise that she didn't really have any friends, so there was no one to invite as she grabbed her things and headed out to Tiger Lily's, home to dancers, dealers, and other lowlifes and the closest place to a 'local' Ericka had.

The place was named after 'Lily', a rather older, no-nonsense sort of woman notable for her strict rules - no fighting, no dealing, no lip. Many considered it a sanctuary.

Ericka slid into a booth at the back, set in an alcove so the flashing lights and pulsing music of the stage were somewhat lessened in intensity. It was still early, but Lily's always had a pretty steady stream of customers and as she glanced around Ericka noticed several familiar faces, though there was no sign of Fel or any other people with whom she was more closely acquainted. Not that they would usually talk to her in a place like this - generally people knew she came here to drink alone, or, just occasionally, to talk to strangers.

Still, there were dancers to watch, and besides, Ericka was never really alone - she had the thoughts of dozens of people running through her head, vying for attention. She could always find something to entertain her, as long as there was somebody else around.

Tonight, there was the ongoing yarn of Seelie and Johan. Johan loved Seelie, and Seelie loved Johan. But rather than try to get to know her out of hours, Johan, like an idiot, just kept on buying dances and having inconsequential conversations and Seelie, like the pro she was, never let anything get in the way of doing her job, straight-up, no extras, not a hint of favouritism. It was heartbreaking, really.

Sometimes Ericka just couldn't help herself. The next time Johan got up for the toilet - which was fairly regularly, given how often he kept buying and downing the Lily's watery Hooch - she waved him over to her booth, leaning one elbow on the table as he approached, frowning rather confusedly.

"Look, lady, I dunno what you think I'm here for, but I'm not interested in-"

"You like her, don't you?"

"What? No! Who?"

"Seelie," Ericka said, tipping her head towards the stage.

The boy frowned. "It's none of your business."

"No, no, it's cool, I just... she told me she likes you too," Ericka said, dropping her voice as if this was a secret that she shouldn't really be sharing.

"What? How would you know? You know her?"

"Um, yeah. But don't tell her I said anything."

"Huh." Johan glanced behind himself quickly at the other woman, then back, shaking his head. "Nah, she can't. I been getting dances off her for months."

"Yeah, of course - but she's at work, y'know? She can't be seen showing anybody special favours..."

"So... what am I supposed to do?"

Oh come on... "Ask to see her outside work. She'll say yes."

"Are you trying to wind me up?"

Ericka shrugged. "Just trying to help. You two are obviously crazy about each other, I thought it was silly to let you dance around it any longer."

"Uh. Right. All right. Guess it couldn't get worse than the way things are now."

"That's the attitude!"

"Mm. Maybe. Uh. Thanks," the kid muttered before turning and making a beeline for the restroom.

"You shouldn't do that, y'know. Interfering."

Ericka felt another mind ease into hers - not entirely, something holding it back from being fully read, keeping itself carefully hidden from all but the merest glance. She knew it - and the raspy voice attached to it - immediately.

"It's called helping, and I'm not hurting anyone," she said, looking up as Jesse slid into the seat opposite hers.

"You don't know that. You have no idea where that might lead. Every time you interfere, you take responsibility for what happens. If they're unhappy, if he hurts her or she him... that'll be on you. It'll be your fault."

"Same with any other interaction you ever have with anybody. Do you think we should just all go live shut up in boxes?"

"Hah, me? No. But you're the one with the conscience, not me."

"Well, thanks for the warning," she said dryly. "I'll try and keep it in mind." She focused on the sarcasm to try and ignore the small but very real thread of fear trying to worm its way through her, one which Jesse would almost surely spot if she gave it any heed at all. "So what are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. Thought I'd come watch some dancing, have a watery hooch. 'Person' stuff." Jesse smirked.

"How normal of you."

"Mm, I'm very normal, me - all about the socialising and gossip. For example, I heard some gossip that might interest you - a name."

Ericka looked surprised. "A name? For me?"

"Martin. A cop. Psi Corps." Jesse just dropped the name, and waited, eyes boring into hers.

Ericka was steady enough after her week of peaceful sleep and avoiding Stun that she was able to keep her expression - and thoughts - mild. "Yeah? So? Plenty of cops poking their noses around nowadays."

"Yeah, this one's like a dog with a scent - sniffing around where it's not wanted." His eyes narrowed a little. "Heard you'd had the pleasure."

"Oh, is that what she was called?" Ericka let a little annoyance colour her thoughts. "Yeah, because of the whole Limelight thing."

"She proofed your apartment for you and you didn't get a name? I find that very hard to believe, Eri..."

"I prefer to call the Corps by their titles, all nice and official-like. She's a Lieutenant."

"I'll bet she is at that."

Ericka shrugged. "Anyway. What do you care about a cop? Got something to be worried about?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "Me? Now why would you think that? I was worried about you. You don't want to get in too deep with that lot, do you? Not with your little secret."

Her mood soured. "Mm."

Jesse smirked. Ericka had a sudden feeling that he'd got what he came for, and he pushed to his feet. "I'll be seeing you, Ericka."

Yeah, I hope not.

 

Ani hauled herself out of bed and into the office early that morning, hoping for some uninterrupted time at her desk to pull together the various theories and hypotheses into something coherent. She was out of luck, however, as it wasn't more than a few minutes before a harried-looking junior officer rushed up, eyes wide.

"Lieutenant Martin, so glad you're here. There's been an incident, and the perp, she's... asking for you. Specifically."

Ani frowned. "We don't do that, officer. Tell her she'll get who she gets."

"Yeah, I tried, but she's insisting. Can't you just... come calm her down? Please?"

Why me? "All right. Fine. I'll be down in a couple, just let me finish this up."

"Thank you."

 

The holding blocks were quiet when Ani eventually made her way down; she was wondering why her presence was even necessary as she rounded the corner to see Sal sitting slumped in a cell, covered in blood and staring dully at the floor.

"Fuck..." Immediately Ani jammed her hand onto the door release, through it before it was even fully open and kneeling with Sal. "What happened?"

The other woman looked up, blinking a few times before responding. "I... I don't know. They say I attacked him. Rigo. With a knife. But I wouldn't, I'd never do something like that, I swear..."

Fear clenched in Ani's gut. Could this be a coincidence? She'd be trained not to believe in coincidences. "What do you remember?" she asked gently.

"I got off from work - it was a long shift, and it was late - and went home. Rigo was there, he's been staying with me, and I asked him about his day and then... then I don't know. I don't remember." Sal shook her head, raising one hand and looking at her blood-spattered palm as if trying to divine the rest of her memories from it. "Then I was here, and they were saying I attacked him. I asked for you, I didn't know what else to do. They won't even tell me if he's alive or not."

"I'll find out. I'm so sorry, Sal, this is probably my fault," Ani muttered quietly, knowing that the waves of fear and guilt were probably washing over Sal in any case.

"Your fault? What do you mean, you weren't there..."

"Yeah, but... can't talk now. Look, we'll fix this, okay? I'm already on this. Just... be cooperative, tell the truth, and you'll be okay."

Sal nodded, and then suddenly reached for Ani's hand, stopping at the last second as she realised what the blood-spotted touch might do to the other woman. With a gulp she wrapped her arms around herself, looking as if she might fall apart at any second. "Just find out about Rigo. Please. And if he's okay... tell him I'm sorry."

Ani nodded. "I will. I'll come back and see you as soon as I can."

"Yeah... okay."

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Ani had to work very hard to tamp down the rising tide of panic she felt as she left the cell and made her way at a trot back toward her office. She had fought with Sal many times, and though the woman was quite cutting with her words - probably related to her empathic ability - she was strictly non-violent. Slamming doors was as far as she went. The idea that she was capable of a crime like that was preposterous, and yet there she was, locked up and covered in her brother's blood.

The first thing she did on reaching her office was pick up her comm and check in with the infirmary. It took her a few minutes and several veiled threats, but she was able to learn that Rigo was in critical condition, having suffered severe lacerations and blood loss, though the nurse she spoke to reassured her that he would likely pull through.

Shaking with relief, she logged back into her console, and pulled up the official report on the incident. It was as vague and frustrating as the reports of the shootings - a neighbour had reported shouts and screams in Sal's apartment, and the police had arrived to find her sitting numbly, knife in hand, over her brother's bloody figure. He hadn't regained consciousness yet so couldn't give a statement, and all of Sal's recollections were fuzzy and nigh-unintelligible. It was only once they got her to the station that she seemed to snap out of it a bit and start asking for Ani.

It was all too familiar. But this time, of course, they weren't dealing with thugs and known criminals, people with records.

Look on the bright side. Nobody's dead, Sal's a first-time offender, she might get off light, a couple months for assault and battery, Ani thought grimly. That was, of course, unless she could prove psionic influence... which was almost impossible to do.

In the end, it was going to come down to whether she could get the go ahead for an investigation into the possibility that the recent incidents had involved a pusher. Her report was finished and ready to go to the captain that day. Should she add this latest incident? Or did she only risk drawing undue attention to Sal and potentially getting herself tossed off the case as a result - the last thing anyone needed.

 

In the end she kept Sal off the report - it was too soon to call it anything but a hunch, and she didn't want to draw the other woman into it any more than she already had. Bracing herself for the worst, Ani gathered her report and headed for the captain's office.

"Well, Martin, tell me you've got something on these shootings."

Ani took a long breath in through her nose, then released it. "I have something on these shootings," she began. "But I don't think you're going to like it very much."

The other woman groaned. "What is it?"

"I think we have an unregistered pusher."

"And what proof do you have for that?"

"Correlatory circumstantial evidence, and two psi sources from the woodwork. Nothing solid yet, but if we could get the prime suspect in for testing, reinterview the witnesses..."

"Who are these sources? Not PsiCorps?"

"Nope, one's an empath and the other's... well, a telepath, formerly thought to be level three, but she's apparently recently manifested at a rather higher level. I'm going to put a request in with the testing unit and they'll reopen her file."

"You know we can't use civilian psi evidence to make arrests. How soon can you get this telepath back into the system?"

"I... I'll be honest, captain, I'd hoped to be able to use these tip-off as a basis for further investigation, and leave the telepath a little while, er, let the system 'take its time'. She was pretty thrown when I told her she'd need to be hauled back into the test centre. Think she could use some breathing space to adjust to the idea."

The captain pressed her lips together, obviously not pleased. "This pusher, he have a record?"

"He's a known unregistered telepath. We've never found any evidence that he was a pusher though."

"Anything to connect him to the crimes?"

"That's what I'm working on."

"Hm. Well, soon as you have anything, pull him in. Though we'll have to pull in a tester from elsewhere, don't think we've got the resources to do it in-house..."

"Mm, yeah. I'll sort it out."

 

Ani was dismissed a few minutes later after some more grumbling from the captain; she was patently unhappy at the confluence of psi-related crime and the winding avenue of investigation that surrounded it, but what else was there to do? Psi crime was still a relatively new thing, and the rules surrounding it were supposedly in place to protect innocent psis who, targeted as freaks and monsters by their fellow human beings, might otherwise be punished for nigh-unprovable crimes.

Sal had been cleaned up and was in an interview room by the time Ani arrived back to see her, meaning of course that she'd have to remain formal in their conversation. The important question of Ringo's status, though, hung in the air between them as she entered, and Ani allowed herself to indulge her feelings of relief on that front, earning a tiny nod of acknowledgement from the other woman, who immediately relaxed slightly, shoulders slumping.

"All right," Ani said as she sat down, "let's get an official statement for this. Can you state your name for the record, please?"

"Saldara Munez," Sal stated, doing her best to keep her voice normal and even.

"Age and occupation, please."

"Twenty-eight, dancer at Tiger Lily's Exotic Emporium."

"All right, thank you. Could you please, for the record, give an account in your own words of the events of last night? At approximately what time did you arrive at your apartment?"

"I think it was about six hours past curfew. I was working the late shift. I have a card, I wasn't out illegally..."

"Don't worry about that right now, we've got your file right here. So you were six past curfew. Can you tell me what happened when you arrived home? Was your brother there?"

"Yeah. He was there, and he was high... I don't know on what." Sal shook her head. "I asked him about his day and he said he hadn't done anything but use and I... I got angry at him."

"What did you do?"

"I don't remember."

"Please, S-Ms Munez, try to tell me what you do remember - a gap, a fuzz, what?"

"I don't know!" Sal said, growing agitated. "A gap, I guess... they say I stabbed him, I don't remember doing that, I would never do something like that..."

"All right, okay. Well, I'm really sorry but we're going to have to keep you in custody pending telepathic review. I'll need you to sign some releases for that, are you okay with that?"

Sal nodded slowly, and it was only after Ani raised her eyebrows and glanced at the recorder that she cleared her throat and spoke. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"Great, thank you."

She nodded again, and then looked down at her hands, balled on her thighs before glancing up at the cop, wide-eyed. "Ani, please, you have to convince them that I didn't do this! I'd never hurt Rigo, he's my baby brother, I've looked after him my whole life, you know that!"

Ani just looked at her, knowing that Sal could feel everything she did - the sympathy, the guilt - without her having to betray any of it on the surface. "I'll try to make sure your processing is swift, Ms Munez," she said, pushing to her feet. The case officer let her out of the interview room, then went in to retrieve Sal, who went with him quietly down the hall back towards the holding cells. With a heavy sigh, Ani made her way back toward her office.

Shit, shit, shit. Ani sank into her chair, filled with a combination of impotent rage and dejection. Poor Sal was suffering for something she hadn't done, and Ani knew - somehow - that it was all her fault. I need to find out if the Fader go to her somehow. I've got to place that bastard on the scene.

Sighing, a frown knitting her brow, she picked up her comm and punched in the code for the last person she knew she should be speaking to - and the only one she was sure could help.

When the comm rang Ericka almost didn't answer it - she was getting ready to go out. And didn't want to be delayed. Still, something convinced her not to ignore it, so she flopped down onto the bed and flipped it on. "Yello, it's Ericka."

"It's Martin here. Can we talk?"

"Oh, Lieutenant... uh, sure. You mean on the comm, or..."

"I'd like to see you at your apartment if that's all right. Or in at the station if you prefer."

"I'd rather my apartment, no offense."

"None taken. Tonight?"

"Uh..." Briefly Ericka considered making the other woman wait, but she found her curiosity got the better of her. "Sure."

"I'll be there when my shift ends in a couple of hours' time. Thanks for this."

"Uh huh. See you later, Lieutenant."

 

Ericka didn't have to be able to read the cop's mind to know she was nervous and rather distressed when she arrived at her door later that night, for all that she tried to conceal it. She waited for the other woman to be seated on the sofa before opening the conversation.

"So, um... what's up?"

"I need to know everything you can tell me about the Fader."

Ericka blinked. "Oh, shit..."

Ani raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"I saw him yesterday. He talked about you."

"About me?" The other woman sat forward. "What did he say?"

"He just knew that you had been poking around, talking to me. He wanted to know what for."

"What did you tell him?"

"I just said you were investigating the Limelight stuff, and then he figured out that you were going to report me and smirked a bunch before leaving. Sorry, I guess I should've told you..." Ericka had the good grace to look regretful.

"No, no, it's all right... fuck..." Ani muttered, dropping her head a little and staring down at her hands.

"What's wrong?"

"I think... I think he's figured out... found out about someone I care about, and hurt her."

"Oh, fuck," Ericka said sympathetically. "I'm sorry. What happened? I didn't hear about any more shootings..."

"No, no, he... made her attack her brother with a knife. We have her locked up now."

"Shit..."

Ani dropped her head into her hands. "Yeah."

"Well, but, it's okay, you've got evidence against him already, you can just add this to the list..."

"I've got nothing, Ericka," Ani snapped, flinching at the sharpness in her own tone. "Just the testimony of a couple of civilian psis, and a big fuckin' hunch. Which is nothing. Nothing I can write down, nothing I can pursue."

"Okay, but... what do you need? What proof?"

"Something I can show to a non-psi and they can see and understand it." Ani paused. "Well, or the signed testimony of two trusted psi corps officers."

"Well, why don't you just call him in? Get him interviewed by two of the psis - I mean, he's a tricky bastard but you've got to have some big-hitters down there, right?"

Lifting her head finally, Ani made a face. "Not gonna happen. We're too thinly stretched, and I have no solid justification."

Ericka gave a noise of frustration. "Okay, well.. we know he was there with the day before the shooting... what if we get him near the other one too? And your... friend."

"I just want everything you have on him. Anything that'll help me track him down - he's unregistered, so I can send a standard squad on him if we get a solid location on him."

"I... don't really have a lot."

Ani smiled tightly. "Just everything you have. Even if you think it's irrelevant."

"Yeah, sure. Do you want me to write it down, or what?"

"Just talk," Ani said, donning her police shade, pressing some hidden button to demist them so that they were just clear. "I'll record."

"Gosh, glad I dressed up for this," Ericka joked, though there was a hint of nerves to it as she looked into the other woman's deep brown eyes.

Ani smiled tightly. "Whenever you're ready, Ericka."

"Yeah, okay." Ericka hesitated, then began to speak quickly, looking down at the floor. "Uh, his name's Jesse. Jesse Kruger. I don't know where he lives, he doesn't have people 'round or whatever. He has a couple places he hangs out - the Fourth Room, Lizard Lounge, the Wellington block, but it's not like predictable when he'll be there."

"Where did he find you?"

"At the Lily. The uh, Tiger Lily. It's a-"

"I know what it is." The colour drained from Ani's face. "Fuck... that must be where he read Sal..."

"Sal was at the Lily?"

"Sal works at the Lily. Hang on... you know the name?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, most of the girls use stage names, but I think I remember hearing a Sal's thoughts once or twice..."

Ani frowned a little. "Right. Yeah. Of course. Well." Somewhat more awkwardly (and was that a slight flush to her cheeks?) she continued. "Anyway, all right, anything else? Afilliations? Profession?"

"Um..." Ericka seemed somewhat distracted as she replied, "He does... favours for local gangs, mainly. But not for anyone in particular, just whoever's got the money."

"'Favours'?"

"Yeah, you know... finding out where stuff is, messing with people's heads, intimidation..."

"Ah. I see. Do... you do that?"

Ericka turned away slightly, grimacing. "There isn't a lot of stuff a non-Corps psi can do, and get paid for it."

"Right."

"But I never went as deep as the Fader does. He... really enjoys it."

The other woman nodded, pursing her lips thoughtfully. Then, "Hang on, 'went'? You... stopped?"

"Well, I haven't done it since... right after the Limelight. Not that anybody would trust me if I tried."

"You're out of favour?"

"I consort with cops," Ericka said dryly. "Not really a trustworthy person to do business with."

"Ah."

"Anyway. Um. Is there anything else you want to know?"

"How much do you know about his abilities? Things you're sure he can do, thinks you think he might be able to do."

"Well, um, there's the telepathy... I don't think he's as strong as me, but close..."

 

Ericka spent quite a long time answering the cop's questions, patiently detailing everything she could possibly call up on Jesse from the years of their acquaintance. After a while she lost her nerves at being recorded and relaxed a bit, but it was still slightly disconcerting, the incredibly intent way Martin stared at her and fired question after question about his abilities, his habits, his friends and enemies.

Eventually, she seemed to decide she had enough, or at least that she shouldn't impose any further on Ericka, for it was getting very late. "I suppose I should get going," she said with a sigh, pulling off her shades.

"You, um... don't have to," Ericka replied. "Do you want a drink? Sorry, I should've offered earlier..."

"Hm? Oh..." The other woman shot her a wry smile. "You don't need to do that. Cops don't expect hospitality these days."

"But you're not here as a cop officially, right? I mean, you're off-duty."

"I suppose..."

"So I should offer you a drink. Since you're not technically a cop and I don't have to worry about accidentally being nice to you," Ericka smirked.

The other woman managed a slight quirk of her lips in return, and inclined her head. "All right. Whatever you have."

Ericka made her way to the tiny kitchen, hesitating briefly before pouring two small glasses of hooch and returning to the lounge to offer one to the cop."Waitaminute," she said, pausing mid-handover. "What's your first name?"

"Er... Anistase," the cop replied. Then, less hesitantly, "Ani."

"Oh wow, so you're..." Ericka handed the glass to the other woman, then stepped back, frowning. "I'm sorry."

Ani frowned. "Hang on, what?"

"No, I shouldn't have said anything," Ericka said with a shake of her head. "Forget I did."

"Some advice, Ericka, never ever do that to a cop. Spill."

"No, it's just... I sort of know who you are," the young woman admitted guiltily. "Or, at least, I know some stuff about you. And Sal."

Ani's brow furrowed in confusion - and not a little suspicion - for a moment, before she seemed to remember, of course, about Ericka's ability. "Ah. The Lily, of course. I see."

"You must be really worried about her."

Ani bowed her head a little. "I am."

"Are you allowed to be on her case? Because you're involved?"

"Yes - I mean, no, but..." Ani shook her head. "We're not involved," she said, in a rather resigned mutter.

"You're not?" Ericka sounded surprised. "Huh."

"It's... complicated. It's been over a while, but." Ani made a face, and took a long drink, half emptying her glass. "Well, anyway. It's probably still unethical, but I don't plan to dredge things up and risk her getting less than the best treatment."

"I'm sure you'll do everything you can for her," Ericka said diplomatically, sipping her own drink.

"Mm. Which was pretty much bugger all until I got your help," Ani added now, seemingly remembering herself. "Thank you. I mean it."

Ericka wasn't used to people thanking her for her help, and it was enough to make her blush sightly. "Uh, yeah, no problem."

"It's not no problem. I've put you in considerable danger already and after pushing you away repeatedly I then had the cheek to come to you expecting you to cooperate suddenly because I've spontaneously decided that my case is more important than the law, more important than your safety." Ani sat forward to rest her elbows on her knees, bowing her head. "It's not no problem. Not at all."

"Yeah, well... I don't mind. You're not so bad, for a cop."

Ani, perhaps having regained her countenance somewhat, only arched a single eyebrow at this.

Ericka shrugged, and took another drink. What the hell do I say now? "Uh... so what next?"

"Next..." The other woman sighed, shook her head, staring down into what was left of her hooch. "I don't know. I feed what I know into the system, and set some hounds to track him down, I guess. And hope."

"Right. Sounds... risky."

"It is."

"You must be frustrated," Ericka commented, slouching back against the wall. "Having to go through all these hoops, not getting revenge when you want it."

"Revenge?"

"Y'know, for what he did to Sal."

Ani smiled tightly. "That's not really how I work," she said. "I'm not about revenge."