Division Zero: Thrall (69 page)

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Authors: Matthew S. Cox

BOOK: Division Zero: Thrall
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He smirked at the offering, but took it. “You said you were off work for a while.”

“I am. A whole month unless something crazy happens.”

Evan gave the uniform a suspicious squint as he went to the foot of the bed. He unpacked a long-sleeve charcoal-grey shirt with a high collar. Fabric loops clung to buttons from the shoulder to the hip to keep it closed. Still underweight for his age, he swam into it without undoing any of the fasteners except for the top two to get his head through.

A plain pair of black pants followed. Kirsten intervened, pulling the flaps of the shirt out and letting them hang. Evan emitted an odd squeak as the belt adjusted itself to his waist. The face he made set Kirsten laughing again.

“These are the same way,” she said, handing him a pair of dark, laceless shoes halfway between sneaker and dress shoe, and a pair of socks as well.

He dropped them, put on the socks, and looked back and forth between her and his new footwear.

“They won’t hurt, come on… we’re late.”

One foot tested one shoe. “Where are we going?” He held in the urge to squeal when it adjusted to fit. Since it did not hurt, he stepped into the other.

“Oh, just some official thing.” She took his hand and walked to the door.

He grinned. “They givin’ you an award for beating a demon?”

“Something like that.”

“Sounds boring.”

Kirsten’s lip quivered. “I’m sure it won’t be.”

Evan was quiet, but grinned the entire ride to the Police Administration Complex. After a bit of concentration, Dorian had managed to shift his appearance to his best memory of a dress uniform. He grinned as broadly as Evan as they walked through the parking deck to the elevator.

When they went right past the hallway that led to the school, Evan twisted to look at it, letting his weight dangle on Kirsten’s handhold. She tugged him upright, smiling.

“You don’t have to go to school today, Ev.”

His walking became bouncing, which faded to a cautious stride when they also went straight past the Division 0 wing without entering. Kirsten looked down at him when he squeezed her hand. The happy look on her face calmed him.

Several hallways later, Kirsten’s shoes clicked down a dark, marble-tiled corridor full of important-looking people. Evan leaned close to her, seemingly frightened by the expansive place full of people with grim expressions. She stopped by a door and took a seat on a bench against the wall. Evan hopped next to her, the light thuds of his heels on the seat drew some smiles and some annoyed looks.

Dorian sat to her left. Evan leaned forward, looking past her at the holographic panel floating by the door.

“Hearing Room 8?” He blinked. “Is the room listening to us?”

“Probably is,” said Dorian. “They have microphones everywhere.”

Kirsten’s laugh had more nervousness this time than mirth. “No, hon. People inside it are.”

A few minutes later, Danita Reed emerged from the crowd at the far end of the corridor, entering from the other direction, the West City Municipal Center. Her grey business suit was, as usual, clean and neat, and she kept a small case tucked under her left arm as she walked over.

“Oh, I thought you’d like to know. That girl you referred my way, Brooke? I managed to find a paternal aunt. Her father had a younger sister who is married with two of her own. The girl’s got some work ahead of her from a counseling standpoint, but she’s got a home. She wanted me to pass along her thanks for what you did for her.”

“She helped more than she knows. I don’t even want to consider what could have happened without her witnessing that…”

A familiar scent wafted past, a second before Kirsten’s father exuded through the wall. She choked up at the sight of him, smiling her thanks as she could not talk.

“They should be ready for us in a few minutes,” said Danita. “You look adorable, Evan.”

He blushed, fidgeting with his fancy shirt, sticking his finger through the small gap in the front of the collar to pull it off his neck.

The door to Hearing Room 8 opened. A white-haired older man in uniform, white shirt and black pants, nodded at Kirsten. She stood, holding Evan’s hand as she walked into a small courtroom and approached the single long table in front of the bench. A middle-aged Asian woman in a black robe offered a pleasant nod of greeting from behind her elevated desk. “Hon. Maria Yuen” glowed in gold letters along the top edge.

Once everyone settled in, she spoke. “Good morning, everyone.”

Captain Eze ducked through the door, offering a wincing smile. “Apologies, Your Honor, I was delayed by a meeting.” He moved at a brisk walk to the table.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” asked the judge.

“No, Your Honor,” said Danita. “Myself and Captain Eze are acting as witnesses.”

Evan twisted to stare up at her, Kirsten, Eze, Dorian, and back to Kirsten. He looked terrified.

Kirsten squeezed his hand and winked. The gesture would have calmed him if she wasn’t trembling.

“Very well.” A change on a concealed display bathed the judge’s face in lime green light. “I have reviewed the findings from the caseworker… That would be you, Ms. Reed”―the judge gestured at her― “as well as the findings of Dr. Loring, and the
exhaustive
communications of support from Captain Eze and even Chief Carter.” Judge Yuen raised an eyebrow. “I see no reason to delay this process any further.” She looked at Kirsten, as if looking over glasses that did not exist. “You have made the necessary arrangements as stipulated by Ms. Reed?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” she rasped. Eze handed her a cup of water from the table. She took a sip, cleared her throat, and spoke again in a clear voice. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Good. In that case, my ruling is that Miss Kirsten Wren, holding the rank of Agent (W4) in the Division Zero Bureau of the National Police Force, is hereby awarded custody of the minor born Evan Dawson.”

“Yay!” he cheered, bursting into joyous tears as he clamped his arms around his new mother.

That was too much for her. She sobbed as well.

Judge Yuen spotted something on her terminal and looked up. “There is one small issue.”

Kirsten’s heart almost stopped.

“The records are incomplete. The boy’s medical file does not contain an official date of birth.”

Danita leaned forward. “Your Honor, the child’s birth mother was off the grid. They were squatters living in an stolen apartment, no employment history. She did not deliver him in an approved medical facility. No records were made at the time.”

“Well, what’s your best guess?” asked the judge. “I have to put something in here. The boy needs a birthdate.”

Evan wriggled free from Kirsten’s arms enough to speak. “Judge lady, can it be the day she found me?” He looked between her and the judge. “I want my birthday to be the day she found me.”

Kirsten shuddered, clasping a hand over her face. Speechless, all she could do was squeeze him and sniffle, crying harder. Her father’s ghost put a hand on her shoulder. Dorian smiled, wider than she had ever seen him smile.

“I have no problem with that…” Judge Yuen gave the table an expectant look.

Danita flipped her case open and swiped her hand over a datapad. She went too far, having to back up two pages. “The inquest Agent Wren filed to terminate parental rights of the birth parent is 24180414A3. That puts it on April 14
th
, about six months ago. The boy is nine, so…”

“ April 14, 2409,” muttered the judge, while typing on noiseless holographic keys. “Done.” She tapped the desk with a gavel. “Congratulations, Agent Wren. This is a big responsibility, I hope you are prepared for it.”

She swallowed her emotion. “I am, Your Honor. I am.”

Evan draped himself through the gap between the front seats, grinning at everything. With the tension of the verdict gone, Kirsten’s mind-blast-tenderized brain throbbed. Despite the pain, she was still too elated to speak. It had taken her almost fifteen minutes to compose herself enough to drive after hearing Evan’s request for a birthdate.

He squinted at the NavMap. “Are we visiting Nila?”

Kirsten smiled at him.

“‘Kay. Shani was worried about you.” He slid into the back seat, making sputtering noises with his lips. “Prob’ly ‘cause I was acting like a spaz.”

“You were scared.” She nudged the patrol craft into a graceful descent, sliding in over the parking deck in search of a spot.

“Not gonna park on the pool this time?”

“Hush, you.”

He leapt through the gap into the front seat. “I wanna hit the button for the wheels!”

His finger found it before she could tell him it was okay. She set down in an open space, finding it a bit boring not to have to nudge the car between ventilation pumps or ducts. Landing on a flat, clear surface intended for hovercars felt… strange.

Evan followed her out through her door, holding hands as they walked past rows of civilian vehicles toward the building. He checked out a handful of expensive, sporty models and glanced back at the armored black behemoth with clear bar lights.

“Your car’s the coolest in the lot. Bet none of the other ones ran over a ghost-ninja.”

Kirsten giggled all the way to the elevator. Evan hit the button for the thirty-ninth floor. Kirsten squinted, pushing the one for the forty-first with telekinesis. He didn’t notice until the elevator stopped descending.

“Hey, why did we stop on this floor? Nila’s place is two more down.”

His expression went from quizzical to confused as Kirsten tugged his arm and led him out.

“Do we know someone else that lives here?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I know them?” He seemed gripped by a sudden bout of shyness.

“Yep.”

“Oh.” He discarded the bashful affect, following her in silence until they stopped at a door marked 4140. “Who lives here?”

Kirsten swiped at the hand-sized silver panel on the wall. The door opened. “We do.”

His jaw dropped.

She took a step through, leaning on the wall and grinning as a nine-year-old missile zoomed from room to room.

“It’s got two bathrooms,” he yelled during the brief instant he appeared in the hallway. “Do I get my own room?”

“Yes, sweetie.” She shoved away from the wall, walking through the living room area, past the kitchen, and down the hallway to the bedrooms.

“Whoa!” he gasped.

She found him leaning on the far wall of the master bedroom, a wall made three-fourths of window. The amber-hued glass created a balcony effect as the upper part angled into the wall, providing a four-foot deep space with only sky overhead. The bedroom had a stunning view of the city, streams of passing hovercar traffic, as well as a glittering train of advert bots.

He spun into a hug. “This is ours?”

“Yes,” she said as she picked him up, “but this is my room.”

She carried him into the hallway, stopping at the first door on the left and setting him on his feet just outside. Evan smiled and put his hand on the panel. The door slid open, and his jaw dropped for the second time.

The furniture, despite the requisite modern amenities such as a holo-terminal, appeared as if lifted from a Monwyn video. Two medieval tapestries hung on the far wall opposite a reality-enhanced window that replaced the outside with a rolling forest, complete with wizard’s tower and the occasional passing dragon. A novelty holo-projector created false cobwebs, castle-stone texture on the walls, and random creepy-crawlies scuttling in the shadows. He ran in, circled the room once―touching everything―before grabbing a quarterstaff from the wall by the bed and sitting with it across his lap.

“This is awesome!” he cheered, holding his arms over his head.

She pulled her hand out from behind her back. He gawked at the holodisk case bearing Monwyn’s face.

“Is… that…
Lure of Shadows?
” He almost dropped the staff. “That…
just
came out.”

“Wanna watch it?”

He raced past her. “I’ll make the popcorn”

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