The Golden Circuit (The Smith Chronicles) (16 page)

19:28 - Sunday, July 29, 2187 (Tapcon Stratis, Muhaze, Tapi-36)

Downtown Muhaze City on a Sunday night. It wasn’t the busiest time of the week
, but Mikita once again stuck to the dimly lit pockets of safety she found between the street lamps. She didn't have much to worry about as regards being recognised was concerned. A light scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face and a wide, black hair-band were enough to preserve her identity. Her face was the biggest threat to her security and, although there were still a few street-cleaner-mutants out and about, most humans were safely ensconced at home. Of course they were… they were Muhazians.

They were having their dinner.

They were tidying up their kitchens.

They were putting their children to bed for an early night before school in the morning.

They were doing their ironing.

They were thinking about their busy week ahead.

They were watching The Zip in their front rooms.

They were sitting in a comfortable chair thinking what a nasty person that Mikita Smith was, what a hopeless assemblage the crew of the Argon were, and what an adorable creature that poor muidog was.

They were thinking how grateful they were that the nice, short man from TAPCON -
What was his name? David something?
- was taking care of them.

They were happy in their cosy New Frontier space-homes, with that small bit of garden in the front and the nicely trimmed red grass in the back.

But out there, in the real world, a young woman was in trouble with the law, and she had none of those thoughts.

Mikita stopped in a doorway to collect herself and considered her situation carefully, as if for the first time.

She knew she had enough fire power in her case to wipe out a small town, but could she really go ahead with it? Was she really going to blast her way into TAPCON and save her cousin? Just like that? The idea had seemed good at the time, plausible even - in the heat of the moment - but now that a sense of harsh realism had crept in, she was swimming against a tide of doubt. No, not a tide of doubt - more like a tsunami.

Sometimes Mikita was so optimistic she
felt like her lungs were filled to bursting, that there was so much to holler about, so much that made her feel alive. And if she ever did happen to let out those thoughts, the exhalation would be so terrifyingly formidable that it would scorch everything in its way, as it screamed towards the periphery in a mighty, incendiary shout.

But then this fantastical state of mind was countered by its polar opposite, when she foolishly looked into the forgotten backwaters of her memory and reached down into that dark and deadened place only to be reminded that the past couldn’t be changed, that those recollections were alr
eady drowned and unsalvageable. That same feeling of hopelessness filled her mind right now.

On top of
all this, the last 48 hours had seen her entire belief system completely reversed! What about those ideas of infiltration? Of infusing the diseased corporate hallways with goodness and truth? What of all the theory she'd learned from Janeee at her PASIV meetings? The non-violent methods of protest? Was all of it out the window in exchange for a few guns, bombs and thoughts of oblivion?

Then, looking up, Mikita realised that her decision was being made for her
, right then and there, as she stood in the doorway.

On a Megatron across the road, TAPCON’s balding press officer, Reynald Frampton
(the self-professed ‘master of spin’) was talking to Zip golden-girl, Harriet Honeste, in the studio.

“That’s right, Harriet. We are asking Mikita Smith to come directly to the TAPCON buildings and enter into discussions with us about her ‘supposed’ crimes. She will not be charged. I repeat…
she will not be charged. That has come directly from Mr. Sempre, himself. And we also have this message for her, recorded this very afternoon by her cousin, a Miss Polo Smith. And Harriet, your viewers should be aware – it is a rather emotional, personal message.”

Harriet Honeste did her well-practised sympathetic nodding
, and made a face that said ‘I feel the excruciating pain of the cosmos throughout my entire being’ - although it was probably just wind.

Then
, on came Polo.

It looked like she was in a holding room somewhere within the TAPCON enclave. She looked distressed, like the Agents had been threatening her… or worse. She started to speak:

“Mikita please come to the main entrance as soon as possible. Please? They will not harm you - they’ve promised me that. They only want to talk to you and sort things out. Please, Mikita. Come in, as soon as you can!” Then Polo began to cry. The clip ended and they were back with Harriet Honeste’s gleaming teeth, lustrous hair and indigestion.

“So, Mikita Smith, if you’re watching,” she gushed. “That was your cousin Polo
there, with some very good advice. No charges will be pressed. Simply turn yourself in at the TAPCON front entrance, at your own convenience.”

Mikita’s heart sunk. She could not bear to see Polo in that state - her own flesh and blood.

She'd been left with no choice. Not now. Not after that. And it was inevitable, anyway. How could she hope to waltz right in there and conquer TAPCON? An 18 year-old girl taking on the TTF? She'd really gone mad - she was convinced of that, now.

But something within herself said that this is what she deserved, if not by Earth-based karma, then certainly by solar law. Powers
, or no powers, she'd killed Hanoi Jones and she needed to be punished, did she not? She could publicly blame the Golden Circuit all she liked, but who would believe her?
Yeah, you see, it was the force that created the universe what made me kill him, your honour. Nothing to do with me.

Um… No.

And there was another thing.

Mikita herself was unsure as to what was behind the events that had happened. Had she really meant to kill Hanoi? He had been attacking her
, violently, and he had been physically threatening. But that didn’t merit his murder.

The level of guilt and denial she was going through was enormous
, and she began to feel its strain. It was like a powerful undercurrent pulling at her legs, drawing her below the surface, down into a vortex of remorse.

H
ow she wanted it all to end.

How she wanted it all to end, right now.

Mikita took off her scarf and hairband, put down her suitcase and walked the last few remaining blocks to the TAPCON buildings. The guard at the gates recognised her immediately and spoke into his hand-held. Alarms went off, lights flashed and TTF agents appeared all around her. She closed her eyes and let them carry her off to meet her fate.

It was over.

Mikita almost felt relieved.

The agents took her directly to a holding room, where she was to wait for Sempre to speak with her. They had found her munitions case out on Tapcon Stratis and had taken it away for examination. They’d also searched her thoroughly, finding nothing except her meta-file, which they promptly confiscated. Mikita realised her situation was now in the hands of the TAPCON big gun.

What would he do to her?

Reynald Frampton had said they weren’t going to punish her? Was that for real?

There was a knock at the door.

It opened slowly and a face peered around the side.

It was Polo!

“Mikita!” she screeched.

There were two TTF agents behind her, waiting, watching. “Three minutes, that’s it,” one of them said and closed the door with a heavy thud, locking it. A small hatch shot open halfway up the door and a blinking, observant eye looked in on them.

“Polo! Have they hurt you? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine, Mikita. They haven’t done anything to me. They’ve been very nice, so far.”

“Yeah, I think ‘so far’ are the important words
, there. But, you’re not harmed, are you? They’ve not stuck things in you… or done a frontal lobotomy, like they should do, of course?” Mikita offered a smile and got one in return from Polo.

“No. Really, everything’s fine. They’ve got nice food here
, too. I had ice-cream today! Baz & Jeremy’s!”

“Good, that’s good,” said Mikita, encouragingly.

“So you saw my message, then?”

“Yes, Po, I did, that’s why I’m here. I had to make sure you were OK.”

“I knew that you would, Mikita. I knew that you would come for me.”

“Of course. I said I’d always look out for you, Polo
, didn’t I? No matter what.”

“And they’ve promised me that they won’t press charges against you! Isn’t that great?”

“Well, let’s wait and see about that...”

…

Polo looked like she had a burning question. “Mikita? You didn’t really kill Hanoi, did you? I mean, actually ‘kill’ him? And shoot that agent, as well?”

“
Um, yes… I mean… No... not the agent. Gildan shot him, though he’s from another planet. But Hanoi… Oh, it’s such a long and complicated story, I wouldn’t know where to begin -”

“So, you
did
kill Hanoi, then?” said Polo, looking at Mikita, as if for the first time.

“No. Yes… I guess so… But he tried to… Hey, don’t look at me like that!”

“But Mikita, you killed someone. I mean, really murdered somebody!” Polo was genuinely horrified. All these years of knowing Mikita, never once would she think she could do such a thing.

“All right, all right, stop saying it like that! It was an accident, OK! I didn’t mean to do it!”

“But you did it, didn’t you? You killed him, didn’t you?”

“YES! I DID! I KILLED HANOI JONES!”

The TTF men burst into the room. They handcuffed Mikita, then grabbed Polo and led her away. Polo didn't look back.

“Polo, you little fool! You’ve set me up! Oh, drain you, Polo! Why?” Mikita could feel her face burning
. There was no answer from Polo. She was gone now, out of her life. Just like her brother, Kané.

Then, David Sempre entered the room.

“Now, now, Miss Smith. Let’s not get too carried away, here. Your cousin was only doing what she thought was best. Please, don’t hold it against her. Oh, how I hate these petty little family arguments, truly, I do.”

Mikita spat in Sempre’s face.

Sempre didn't like that. Not one bit.

He wiped his cheek and raised his other hand to strike her, just like Hanoi had done 24 hours ago.

It shook, while he held it aloft, and his face went beetroot red.

Then, slowly, he lowered his arm and put it back down by his side, calmly.

“Ahem, no, no, no… Let’s deal with this in a civilised way. Let me see, now…” He was eyeing up Mikita, making mental notes. “Yes, I think we can safely start the process now. Take her to Room 77.”

“Yes, Mr. Sempre,” said one of the agents. It was Wenceslaus, from the Mansions raid. “With pleasure, sir.”

Wenceslaus pulled at his moustache ends, then pushed Mikita through the door and led her down the myriad of hallways that made up the TAPCON building. An armed security-mutant followed closely behind them both.

TAPCON’s inner sanctum was a m
aze of grey - endlessly the same. However, Wenceslaus knew his route perfectly. They needed to go through several electronic doors, the agent using a pass to get through each one.

They passed several members of TAPCON’s administrative staff and office personnel
, all with badges and clip-on passes. They ignored her - nobody was bothered by her presence: just another street urchin out of her depth and banged to rights by the authorities. They’d seen it all before.

“This is it, Miss Smith,” said Wenceslaus, as they came to a halt outside Room 77. “I hope you – ‘enjoy yourself’.”
The agent smiled, wickedly.

Room 77 was just like any of the other rooms down any of the other corridors. Another grey door down another grey hallway. Wenceslaus unlocked it with his pass and opened the door.

Inside the room were two people. One male and one female - Specialists, Mikita thought. They were both dressed in white scientist’s coats, both were bespectacled, and both were sat at two wooden desks. One on either side of the room.

The interior was small and rectangular
, with a curved semi-circular bay area behind the Specialists. There wasn’t much space in there for the two of them, let alone three, once Mikita was shoved in by Wenceslaus.

“Mikita Smi
th,” the burly agent announced, then left, shutting the door behind him.

Mikita stood there, impassive, staring straight ahead.

“Please, sit down,” said the woman.

“Yes, sit down, please, Miss Smith,” said the man.

She continued to stand.

The two Specialists
looked at each other in dismay.