Zyra watched from the bushes as a perimeter drone whizzed by, microwaves scorching the ground below it. A low-swooping swallow burst into flame as it passed below the grey, flying, metal box.
‘Stupid bird!’ whispered Zyra, as she noted that it had been exactly three minutes and four seconds since the drone last passed.
Zyra wore gloves, boots and a neck-to-ankle, plasti-alloy, microfibre jumpsuit. A balaclava with mirrored lenses completed the ensemble. It wouldn't do much to stop a bullet, but it was perfect protection from the razor-sharp leaves that surrounded her. These fancy houses on the Hill had all manner of weird security, but razor bushes were easy enough to get through if wearing the right clothing. And Zyra prided herself on always wearing the right outfit for the occasion.
She peered up at the perimeter wall through the leaves. It was a metre in from the surrounding bushes and looked like traditional bluestone. The sort of wall you'd find surrounding a prison or an orphanage. But in her line of work, Zyra knew never to simply accept the obvious. That's why she was taking the time to reconnoitre the property before planning the break-in. For all she knew, the wall could be encased in an electro-static barrier, or criss-crossed with invisible laser beams, or even -
Not a real bluestone wall at all!
As Zyra watched, a portion of the wall shimmered.
Damn! she thought. Some beggar's workin’ me turf.
The stones seemed to bulge and distend, then they dispersed in a burst of static as someone walked through. As that someone stepped out onto the scorched gravel between the wall and the razor-bush surround, the stones reformed behind him.
The Cracker chuckled to himself as his shifty eyes looked from right to left. Dressed in a drab grey suit and overcoat, he looked very much like he was on the way to some boring office job. But, of course, he wasn't. In one hand he held a pencil-shaped device. He adjusted the settings on the device and then waved it at the section of razor-bush directly in front of him. The leaves and branches went limp.
‘Toys,’ spat Zyra under her breath. ‘That filthy toe-rag always gots ’em toys.’
Zyra reached into her boot and pulled out a throwing star. It was the last one that she had with her and she didn't want to waste it. Carefully, she used the sharp star to cut three leaves from the bush she was hiding in, then returned it to her boot. She sprang, flicking one of the leaves as she emerged from the bushes.
The Cracker hardly had time to gasp before the sonic override device he was holding was sliced in two by the spinning leaf. He turned angrily to see Zyra poised before him, a leaf held gracefully between the index and middle finger of each outstretched hand. She knew she had struck a perfect pose. Any old sewer-rat could commit acts of violence. But wherever possible, she attempted to do so with style and flair.
‘What?’ screeched the Cracker, dropping what remained of his toy and slowly shaking his weasellike head. ‘No, no, no, no, no, nooooo. Back off! My job! My score! You is tooooo late.’
‘Hands it over,’ demanded Zyra.
‘Zzzzzyra, my pretty,’ said the Cracker, recognising her voice and smiling an oily, gap-toothed smile. ‘I shoulds ’ave known it was you. All covered up, but still such a pretty-pretty thiever.’ His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as his eyes worked their way up and down Zyra's tall, sleek frame. Slowly, he cracked the knuckles on his right hand, one by one, as he continued speaking. ‘I could gets you lots and lots of coinage for one of your talents. Coppers. Silvers. Even golds! All you've gots to do is speak the word.’
Zyra threw one of the razor leaves. It whizzed past the Cracker's ear, nicking it as it went.
‘Next one takes ya ear off.’
The Cracker wiped the drop of blood with a grubby finger and brought it to his lips. His tongue flicked out again, cleaning the blood away.
‘I takes that as a no.’ He smiled and shrugged. ‘Your loss.’
He reached his left hand into his shabby coat.
‘Slowly,’ demanded Zyra, waggling her remaining razor leaf.
‘Oh, of course,’ said the Cracker, slowing down to an exaggerated extent. In the distance Zyra could hear the perimeter drone coming around again.
‘Comes on,’ she encouraged. ‘Not that slow.’
‘Is plenty of rich houses up here on the Hill,’ he continued, ignoring her attempt to hurry him. ‘Theys all has keys. Go gets your own. Go now, and I'll forgets this ever happened.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I'll even gives you a tip. Fat Man's away. House is easy target.’
Zyra moved her hand as if to throw the razor-leaf.
The Cracker shrugged. ‘Don't says I didn't gives you a chance.’
He carefully extracted his hand, holding up a plastic card. It was the size and shape of a standard credit card. Metallic blue with an embedded microchip, it had no markings save the Designers Paradise logo. It shone gently in the shadow of the wall, as if it had its own power source.
‘Praise be to the Designers,’ whispered the Cracker.
Zyra breathed in sharply, all her attention focused on the card. This was what she was after. A key! The ability to gain entry to Designers Paradise and escape the World, at least for a little while. She held out her free hand and took a step forward, indistinct images and memories playing at the corners of her mind.
As she did so, the Cracker clenched his right hand, the constriction of the muscles activating a device concealed in his right sleeve. A pellet shot from his coat sleeve, hitting Zyra between the eyes. The pellet burst apart in a spray of acid. She would have been blinded were it not for her balaclava.
Zyra whipped it off before the acid had a chance to eat its way through, revealing her short red Mohawk and numerous piercings. She tossed the balaclava at the Cracker. It hit him in the face, spreading just enough acid to burn his cheek and cause him to yelp. Over his shoulder, Zyra could see the approaching perimeter drone. Knowing she had to move fast, she leapt at him, throwing him against the wall, which fizzled and tingled but felt solid enough. As the Cracker clutched his face with one hand, Zyra smashed his other hand, the one that held the key, against the wall. With a sickening crack, and an accompanying scream, the Cracker let go of the card.
Zyra caught the card, let go of the Cracker and hurled herself down the path the Cracker had created in the razor-bush. As she ran, she heard the perimeter drone, but didn't stop to see if the Cracker made it out alive.