Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel (26 page)

"NO! I
HATE
PANCAKES!"

Zeika expected the detective to scowl, but he actually cracked a wide grin. His eyes lit up, and he grabbed his fork.

"Wow, you hate pancakes? That's too bad. They sure look good. Mm, mm, so buttery and syrupy, yum. You're missin' out, kid." When Manja didn't lift her head, he continued. "Oh wow, just
look
at these chocolate chips! They're even making a smile. Man, these pancakes sure are happy to see me."

Manja peeked out from Zeika's shoulder, looking at him warily.

"And there's whipped cream? It looks so good, I think I'm gonna try some--" He reached over to prod the top flapjack with his fork.

"No, they're my pancakes!" Manja turned around and grabbed the edge of her plate. "You said so!"

The detective gazed at her, a twinkle in his eyes.

"My pancakes." Manja smiled sheepishly. Then she turned to Zeika, trying to whisper and failing miserably. "He's cute, Zeeky!"

Zeika's cheeks flushed hot. "Manja!"

The detective laughed. "Thanks. You're not half bad yourself, kid." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a pen and pad, and then looked at Zeika. "Now, tell me again about that night at the--"
 

"Oh we're ssstepping
out
with the Azure pigss now, are we, Z? Thiss a date?"

The three of them turned to the shadow that inked over them. Franz. And he was glaring at them. His puffy red-splotched gaze focused mostly on the detective, but his boozy stench was making its rounds. Manja sank down in her seat, her little nose scrunched up, and finally, she climbed over Zeika to sit on the inside of the booth.

Zeika stared back at Franz hard, not budging. "No, but even if we were, no one asked you."

"Tha good people of thiss here bar don't need to ssee your nasssty," Franz said, stumbling against the booth. "You and your slut mother should keep your Azure pimps at home, ya fuckin' whores--"

"Go suck the cock's end of a beer bottle, all right, Franz?!"

The detective stood up, his face dark. "Get out, or I'm going to arrest you for disorderly conduct and for being a dick."

Franz straightened up as though to challenge the detective, but then he seemed to reconsider. He stepped back, a sloppy smile smeared on his face. "I saw your mom in Angels9 the other day, Z. Tell her I'll see her on the next flight." He burped and staggered off, but not before smirking at them one last time.

Zeika slumped back into her seat and looked at the wall, rubbing her arms. She could feel tears welling up.

"Zeeky, why'd Franz say that about Mommy?"

Zeika couldn't work up a response. She could feel the detective's eyes on her.

"You all right?" He asked.

"Look, no offense, detective," she murmured. "But we're just here to eat and answer questions. If you're working up to getting friendly, please don't bother. You don't have to pretend you care."

To her surprise, he didn't even flinch at her reaction. But he
was
observing her, more with curiosity than anything else.

"Sorry, Mister. Zeeky's got a real mean mouth."

Zeika cut Manja a glare. Manja stuffed her face full of pancake and looked off, as though the voice had come from elsewhere.
 

"Not a problem," he replied. "So do I. And you don't have to call me 'Mister'. It's Caleb. Caleb Rai." He lifted his eyes to her. "Zeika, is it? Anon?"

"It's
A
non. Like cannon, only drop the 'c'. Ezekiel D'jihara Anon." She regarded him with impatience. It was undeserved, her attitude, and she knew it by the amused way he looked back at her. But she couldn't help it. People always pronounced her name like it was the confessions of friggin' Shakespeare.

"I've never heard a name like that in my life," he said. "It's pretty cool."
 

Somehow, there wasn't a single drop of sarcasm in his voice. He smiled, even-- sincere. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"And
I'm
Manja!" The little one muscled in. "And I'm going to be a big singer one day, like Nina Simone!"

Zeika smiled a little and turned to her. At least the kid was talking now.

"Yeah? That's great!" Caleb said. Then he turned to Zeika. "What about you?"

As Zeika opened her mouth, Manja crawled into her lap and sat right in front of her, as though to block her. "She dances! And flips and jumps! She's great, and she's gonna be the best ballerina in the world and--"

"Well, excuse you, your Highness, but when did I become a chair?"

"
Mou
, come on, Zeeky, stop interrupting! I'm about to get to the best part!"

"And I'm about to toss your little behind clear across the diner if you don't stop acting grown!"

Manja reached up and put her hand on Zeika's mouth. "Anyway! Hey Mister Caleb, are you really a policeman?"

Caleb smiled. "Yup."

"Can we see your badge?"

He pulled it from his trench coat pocket and showed it to her.
 

Manja gasped and leaned her cheeks in her hands. "Woow... and do you get the bad men?"

"Most the time. At least back home I did."

"Cool! And are there bad girls too?"

"Not as many, but--"

"Do you have a police car? Can we ride in it? Where do you work? Can we see the station? Do you 'oink', because Zeeky says the police are pigs and--"

Zeika grabbed Manja's mouth and held it tightly.
 

Caleb's eyes twinkled. "I'm kind of interested in hearing what she was about to say."

"Aheh. One minute she's a mute, and the next you can't get her to shut up," Zeika chuckled nervously as she put Manja back into her original seat. "You wanted to ask me about the bombing, detective?"

"You can ask me too!"

"
Eat your pancakes!
" Zeika hissed.

Manja giggled before digging back into her food.

"Ugh, kids..." Zeika took a minute to rub the bridge of her nose before they started to talk. "About the bombing, I know it looks like I have a motive, but the truth is..." And the truth came in full, from the attack all the way up to the raid on her lot. "Koa took everything," she said finally. "Our money, our supplies, my job,
everything
, and they left us to scavenge for scraps."

"And you've never been approached, solicited, or bribed by any members of the Knights of Almaut?"

"No. Not until the raid."

"Do you know of any Civilians your age or younger that have had any sort of contact with Koa?"

Lauren McGee. Abe Young. Quenton Reed. And others. She'd heard the stories, rumors. While for a long time Koa would never cross into the Protecteds, they still loved to shake working kids down on the borders where they could. They were bastards. Terrorists. Even so, Koans were still Civilians. If anyone was going to deal them justice, it would be the Civilians and the Civic Order. Not Caleb Rai. Not Azures.

So Zeika looked dead at the detective and replied with full confidence: "No. Before the raids, I hadn't heard a thing."

"Not in school, either?"

"More of us work than go to school, detective. But I'm the only one I know of that worked in the Seventh Demesne. The rest work in the Fifth or Sixth. Some come home everyday. Some turn Azure. Others just disappear."

She watched Caleb draw up his shoulders, his eyes went serious. "How many?"

"I dunno. I see missing ads for different kids all the time. It's scary."

"Your parents still let you walk around alone though?"

"Don't have a choice. We all work, or we all starve."

"Have any of the Knights of Almaut or their associates ever offered you any... alternatives to your current situation?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Have they ever given you incentive to become a soldier?"

Zeika leveled her eyes with his, and she leaned back, feeling the metal of her hidden gun press into her lower back. "What's a soldier?"

"Someone who serves in a military force for a cause or for a country. In this case, a ghost of Koa."

"I'd never become a ghost of Koa. Especially not after they raided our lot. They're garbage."

"They think they're fighting for a good cause."

"Good cause or not, they step on their own to make their point. I'm not a fan of their scorched earth policy. It's neither good business nor good publicity, and now that they've made us targets, Koa will never receive quarter in the Protecteds. They lost this war the moment the Lakeside detonated."

"I think Koa just suffers from inexperience. Too many young hotheads leading the charge, maybe. Don't you think?"

She raised an eyebrow. He was humoring her, and that was kind of cute, but where was he going with this?

"Some of the residents in your lot said that nearly half of the raiding party were teenagers," he said. "Do you know anything else about that?"

Ah. There we go. He was good at this interrogation thing, trying to pull info through casual conversation. But she wasn't a fool. She shook her head as innocently as she could. She even smiled.

"Mm, sorry, Detective. Didn't get much info while they were knocking my head into the dirt. I thought ghosts of Koa were just rumors until the raid, and flying fists aren't exactly the greatest ice-breaker. You know?" She sipped her water.

"I heard you mopped the floor with some of them." Caleb sat back. He didn't bother hiding his admiration.
 

She shrugged. "They took her medicine. I needed it back."

"She's sick?"

"Hemophilia."

She could see his face soften with an emotion she couldn't place. Compassion. Pity, maybe. Either way, she didn't like it.

"You asked earlier if I was a soldier," Zeika started again. "The only cause I serve is this one. Spoiled as she is." She put a gentle hand on Manja's head, rustling her pigtails. "And anyone who gets in the way of that cause gets handled." She lifted her eyes back up to him. Her smiled faded. "Koan, Civilian, Azure alike."

Caleb smirked. "Is that a threat?"

"No. I'm just keeping you informed. I didn't thrash Koan ass because I wanted to. I had to."

"Yeah, let's talk about that a bit. Tell me how were you able to fend off a group of Koan soldiers-- armed with guns-- all by yourself?"

"I've studied Majkata since I was five. My father's pretty adamant about that."

"Something that you and the ghosts of Koa have in common."

She frowned, not liking his implications. The cat-mouse thing was kinda cute, but he needed to get back in his lane. "I am not a ghost of Koa, detective. My parents were just preparing me for the inevitable. We Civilians study Majkata to defend ourselves from
everyone
. Anything else is just coincidence." She stood up and grabbed her traveling robes. Game over. "We didn't ask for this."

Caleb stood up too, motioned to the waitress, and threw a few bills onto the table for the check. "You have my card if you have any more information. Or you could ask your parents to call me too. I have some more questions I'd like to ask."

"Yeah." Zeika knelt to help Manja into her robes and bear backpack. "You'll probably find my parents before we do. If that happens, then you can call
us
. We haven't seen them."

"I... heard the guy say earlier that he saw your mother around."

"Yeah, well, you didn't hear him too good. She's a k-head. Got shipped off to rehab on the Island."

Caleb's eyes softened. "I see."

She avoided his gaze as she tied her obi sash around her waist. "Thanks. For the food, I mean. It helped. Good luck with your investigation." She put her hood on and proceeded to walk towards the exit. She got to the door before she noticed there were no sounds of little feet pattering behind her.

Zeika turned to see Manja talking to Caleb and smiling. A second later, their waitress came over to the table, toting a brown paper bag. She gave it to him in exchange for a wad of Azure bills, the stack of them blue and thick. Damn, was that her tip? He'd given the girl way more than $29.34. But maybe he just had it like that.
 

When the waitress left, Caleb gave Manja the bag and something else too. It was too small to see from where Zeika stood. Cash, maybe. Or candy. Whatever it was, Manja put it into her pocket. Zeika shook her head. The kid always had her own game going; she was good at sweet-talking people out of things, but sometimes she overworked it, didn't know how to leave 'em hanging. She'd get better with practice. For now, it was time to go.

"Hey! Come on, brat," Zeika called out. "Stop flirting."

Manja waved goodbye to him before running over and taking Zeika's hand. Zeika lifted her chin to the detective, the nicest goodbye she'd mustered in a long while. He nodded back. Together, she and Manja ventured back out, Zeika already deciding to trade their winter coat for the two bucks.

Jeb dick-in-his-hand Palmer was finally back from the Fifty-Second, and he was screaming his head off in the debrief room. He walked around, ripping badges off cops' uniforms and hurling them into the door.

"You're a goddamned disgrace! All of you! You practically greased up and grabbed your ankles while Koa rammed the Fifth Demesne, and you got the brass nuts to call yourselves cops?!"