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  Nix Whittaker

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  Hero

  An Atramento Novel

  Nix Whittaker

  www.nixwhittaker.com

  © 2015 by Nicola Pike

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical facts, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  This book is written in my native English so if you are American you might notice more U’s and less Z’s but that is as intended. Also, as a warning to those who love the oxford comma, you might see less of those as well.

  Originally published as Sorrow also sings.

  Other books by Nix Whittaker

  Atramento Series

  Halcyon’s Hero

  Betrayed Hero

  Wyvern Chronicles

  Blazing Blunderbuss

  The Mechanicals

  Wyvern’s Trim and other stories

  The Jade Dragon

  Ruby Beyond Compare

  Wyvern Mysteries

  Lady Golden Hand

  The White Lady

  Lady Doctor

  I dedicate this book to friends, who no matter the distance or the time, when we meet again it is like no time at all has passed.

  Preface

  The world ending wasn’t what people expected. They knew global warming was an issue, although they thought it would get hotter and people would scorch. The scientists knew better. They knew everything was connected. People had become complacent in their blinkered world. Even in their most conservative model, scientists predicted a world thrown into chaos and anarchy never known before.

  What they predicted came true. First came food shortages and economic breakdown that cascaded through countries at an alarming rate. Any currency pretty much turned into fancy toilet paper, and whole governments crumbled while the basis of their own little worlds disappeared. War descended as people thought they could do a better job or were just plain greedy and wanted what the former leaders had.

  Then there were refugees, fleeing ahead of war, famine and drought. This of course put pressure on countries, and nationalism reared its ugly head in the worst way. Wars erupted in almost every country, leaving nowhere to hide from the turmoil.

  And like a fierce fire, the war and chaos burnt itself out. Eventually.

  Then the ashes fell and the world sighed with exhaustion. The people were finally able to build a semblance of society. Some scientists had managed to construct a weather shield that created a stable climate in localized areas. Instead of selling it, they gave it to what was left of the world.

  This was the start of the City States, and life went on.

  Chapter One

  Whatinga: March 2088

  Rawiri hesitated at the door of the engineering workshop. Hal had tucked the workshop into the corner of the large warehouse she used as a home. Nervous, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Let alone to the woman he had come here to see.

  The woman broke into his thoughts when she said, “I was wondering when you would get the guts to come here.”

  Hal didn’t look up at Rawiri in the doorway as she was still obviously absorbed by the work on her desk.

  He had actually been there a while procrastinating, but either her work had absorbed her or she had been waiting for him to speak.

  Rawiri shrugged. “I come here all the time.”

  Usually for dinner with Agent Harold. They both knew this was different.

  Hal snorted at his very obvious evasion. “I mean for a tattoo.” She turned in her chair to look at him. “That is why you came to find me, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. He was different from the young fool that had come here almost a year ago. Then he had been a punk who had used a badge to hide from his real life. He had known the undercover work wasn’t good for him, but it had been easier than dealing with all the shadows in his past.

  Agent Harold had changed him. Made him realise there was a way back from the darkness he had thought was in his blood and in his soul. Now, he knew, he didn’t have to be that fool everyone thought he was, to hide what he really was.

  He shook off those thoughts. Just being here in the same room as Hal eroded his confidence in the changes he had made.

  “I’m ready. Buff me up,” Rawiri said too casually.

  Hal flicked a hand toward him to indicate for him to wait and she turned to pick up something. “I don’t get many guinea pigs. Are you willing to sign up for the whole deal?”

  He shrugged. “I was ready the first time I asked. I had heard rumours.”

  She turned sharply and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’s interesting. I never found out how you found me in the first place. It wasn’t like I was going around and advertising that I needed a test subject for my atramento.”

  Rawiri gave her one of his signature cocky grin and tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I have ears in interesting places. They hear things that no one else does.”

  She waved it off. “Warren translated a word for me. He says it is speed. I didn’t understand how to incorporate it into the human system without more data, but once he helped me with that, I realised what it could do. So, you up for speed?”

  Rawiri didn’t understand how the atramento worked. What he knew was that a long time ago Warren had this book of really old words. He had translated some of them. Hal had been his friend at the time and dying from cancer. She had seen something in the language and figured out she could fix herself with one of the words.

  That was the pink atramento on her cheek. With her pale skin, it was hardly even visible. It looked beautiful though when he took the time to pick it out. The curves of the letters intricate and exotic. The atramento had cured her of cancer, but for all the other words she needed a guinea pig.

  He had heard she had been looking for someone of a calm disposition. One who had the right EM fields apparently, but that piece of information hadn’t reached him when he had come here the first time. But he knew she needed someone.

  Rawiri had hoped that would be him. But he had brought Misha with him as he had known if she rejected him the most Zen-like person he knew was Misha. He had been right, and Hal had put atramento on Misha. One was a vivid blue one on his chest that made him super strong. That was the atramento Rawiri wanted.

  “Why can’t you give me the others first?” He shamelessly begged.

  She shook her head and headed towards her tattoo parlour. “The atramento all interact with each other. I need to see what speed does on its own to the EM field generated by your body. I spent years waiting for one calm enough to try the first one on. I now know more about the effects as I can observe other’s auras much better than my own.” She motioned him into the parlour. “Your aura is calmer, but you still have issues. I now know that the global effect of the atramento shouldn’t adversely affect you. Don’t worry, you are in good hands and once it has settled, we can add in all the rest. I think I have come up with an order that shortens the time between atramento. Mmm, I wonder. No, no. I’ll leave that for later, though I’m starting to think it should be the first one.”

  Hal was talking to herself at that stage as she worked with the gear on her tattoo tray and completely ignored him. She flicked her hand gracefully towards him. “Please take off your pants.”

  He stood shocked by her words for a moment. Though once the meaning of the words settled in his head, he couldn’t help himself. He laughed. The last time someone said that to him
was so different from this situation he couldn’t help but see the humour in her demand.

  She frowned at him. He shook his head to indicate he wasn’t laughing at her.

  He also went for his belt so she wouldn’t think he had changed his mind about getting an atramento. He dropped his pants. “Anything else?”

  His voice was light, but he dreaded she would ask more. He might seem like a casual person, but he did not like to be naked around others.

  She shook her head. “I need access to the back of your legs. That should be it.”

  She motioned to the chair and he lay down, hiding his relief. Her hand on the back of his leg was firm and there was not even a trace of intimacy in her touch.

  He relaxed a little and tucked his arm under his head. “I heard stories you used to be a doctor up on the Hill.”

  The buzz of the ink gun was soft and didn’t stop their conversation. When she spoke, her voice sounded distracted. Just as he had hoped. He had noticed that artists and other dedicated people seemed to be easily distracted when they were working in their fields.

  “Yeah, Bioware though. Never got into the medical side of it all. I just add things to people. Though Warren managed to get the board to ratify my PhD. So, technically I’m now a doctor.”

  Rawiri kept her talking as he rarely got her on his own. Misha was often by her side and he understood his friend’s need to always be close to her, but it made it difficult to bring up topics he didn’t want to share with Misha.

  “Rumour had it you were probably the best but that you died. Cancer, I heard.”

  Hal snorted. “Warren told me people thought I was dead. Good. I didn’t want them hassling me.”

  There was no need for her to spell out who they were. She had come from the rarefied echelons of the academic world. They were the ruling class of the city. I did not know them for their empathy to the general masses. He knew a little more about the whole ordeal than others did. He pushed a little. “Oh, yeah, that is right. Your father robbed the University blind before he took what he could and disappeared overseas. Do you know where your dear old daddy is?”

  Her voice was deceptively casual as she answered, “Mmm, he is researching some cybernetic implant thingy.” He noticed it was all vague enough. He still didn’t know where the old dean of the University was. She continued in the same casual tones. “Not very promising, but there are some rich idiots that will throw money at anything. My dad is good enough, he can milk it for all the money he can and produce nothing in the end. But of course, he will be gone by then. What about your parents?”

  The question side swiped him. The needle stopped and she leaned in closer to him. “Wow, that spiked your EM fields something fierce. You all right there? Do you want to talk about it?”

  Agent Harold had insisted he go to counselling to help him deal with his past and to make him a better agent. Apparently, suicide was always a problem with new recruits that shrink sessions were standard.

  So, Rawiri recognised that this was something he would need to talk about. But probably not with Hal, though. He tested his own emotions, though. “I don’t remember my parents. They abandoned me when I was a child. My brother raised me.”

  He left it at that as speaking about his brother was still difficult and he hadn’t even brought him up with his councillor yet.

  Hal nodded and her head disappeared from his view. His words must have been enough to settle his aura as she went back to her work.

  After a long moment of silence Hal said, “I used to work for the Mission.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Few people knew about the Mission. They were a group of foster parents that took in kids that wandered into the city without any parents.

  Whatinga city had strict rules on children moving to the city and they had to have a means of support before they were let inside the Weather Shield. Usually, this meant that a guardian had to look after them.

  They set the Mission up to fool the city Council into thinking that all the children that came to the city were only coming to see family and then stayed.

  He had been a Mission kid. He had known Hal had worked for the Mission as it had been one of the other Mission kids that had told him about her and her Bioware skills that were going to waste. He hadn’t known about the atramento tattoos, but another of the Mission kids had told him she had bought a tattoo chair and he had used that to get to her.

  What surprised him was she knew he was a Mission kid. He turned his head so he could look at her. She glanced up and seemed to understand his unspoken question. “That first time. It was written all over you as much as the undercover cop thing. I haven’t told anyone. Not even Misha.”

  He relaxed and Hal finished up with the atramento that ran down the calves of both of his legs. They were quite pretty and he twisted his legs to have a look.

  They were an orange-brown like henna except that it shifted and glimmered so he wasn’t sure what exactly the colour was. They blended and worked with his dark skin colour.

  Hal finished packing up her gear. “Are you free now?”

  He picked up his pants and put them on. “Why?”

  She put something into a box. “I need this delivered to someone on University Hill. It’s important it gets to her and I believe that someone might try to stop this from getting to her if it isn’t under some kind of guard. As an agent, people tend to think twice about taking you on. Hopefully, that will be all that’s needed to stop any attempt.”

  Rawiri shrugged. He had nothing to do that afternoon as it was his day off and going back to his lonely apartment wasn’t a pleasant thought.

  Hal placed the box in his hands. “She’s a doctor on the Hill. She’ll be working in the University lab. Her name is Freya. She’s blonde and quite tall. She isn’t your usual skinny model type. Make sure you give it to the right person. Like I said, I think someone will try to intercept this.”

  He tried to visualise the girl Hal described, but all he could imagine were those female athletes from the old Olympics they ran on late night TV. The ones that threw metal balls over their shoulders.

  If Hal wanted him to be cautious, she couldn’t have described the woman any better.

  ___

  Freya looked up when someone walked past the glass wall of her lab. It was a handsome man. His dark hair a little too long. He walked liked someone who was dangerous, though.

  Her heart beat a little faster. Was this another one of Portland’s thugs? They hadn’t come into the lab yet, but she had seen them hanging around. It scared her that one day they would do more than just stand around and watch her.

  Freya’s hands tightened on the edge of the table as the man came into the lab. He carried a small box and she wondered if it was a bomb or something equally dangerous.

  He asked, “Are you Freya?” His voice was mellow.

  Her knuckles were white on the edge of the table. She nodded her head slightly. He placed the box on the table. “Hal told me to bring this to you.”

  Relief flooded her and she reached for the box. Her hands were not graceful and she tipped the box off the edge as she reached for it. The man moved faster than she had thought anyone could and caught it. He had a strange look on his face as he put the box in her hands.

  Freya asked, “Is that normal?” He shook his head.

  He hesitated. “Hal put one of her tattoos on me. I think it’s not going well.”

  Putting up his hand, he showed her it shook, fast enough that his hand actually blurred. She caught his hand, but it still blurred.

  “That is definitely not normal.” Swearing softly to herself, she guided him to a stool. This was something she could deal with.

  She took vitals and tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lip as she pondered. “This is way beyond my capabilities. But at least it isn’t dangerous. Your heart is fine.”

  He shrugged and it was a little awkward as the shaking made him overcompensate and he almost fell off the stool.

  Gritting h
is teeth. “Maybe if I stay still for a moment, it will stop.”

  Freya shrugged. It was possible. With his EM Fields settled, he might take control of it again.

  She puttered around to keep her hands busy. “I didn’t get your name?”

  His voice sounded strained, “I’m Rawiri. I’m a City State Agent.”

  That surprised her. He didn’t look like an agent. They were usually the dark, broody type. Rawiri looked dangerous but there was a joie de vive to him that flashed through if she watched him carefully.

  She asked, “Are you a friend of Hal’s?”

  He seemed distracted as he answered, “Of Misha’s actually. Are you a doctor here?” He motioned to the lab.

  She nodded. “I’m working on a cure for Ambrosia dependency.”

  Though she wasn’t sure how long that would last. If Portland knew she was still working on it, he might make his threat real and put her out of action. He certainly had the clout to make her grant money go away.

  It brought her thoughts back to the present when Rawiri said, “So beauty and brains.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?”

  He grinned, showing white teeth in his tanned face. “Only if it will get me somewhere?” he said this all while he held himself as still as possible and completely failed.

  Obviously, he was concentrating more on what his body was doing rather than on her. That gave her an idea and she surprised him when she leaned in and kissed him. She had little experience in kissing people as she had always felt out of place at the University and she found the people who lived in her parents’ neighbourhood to be too myopic.

  The last guy she had a crush on had been completely oblivious of her. But she knew she was a pretty girl and it would be no hardship for a guy to kiss her.

  Rawiri surprised her by returning the kiss warmly. His hand went to the nape and he tugged her closer so he could deepen the kiss. Fear quickly followed the shock. She wasn’t used to this kind of thing. And she never dealt with new things very well.