The Golden Circuit (The Smith Chronicles) (6 page)

18:35 - Saturday, July 28, 2187 (Weah Mansions, Muhaze, Tapi-36)

“So, there you have it, Mikita - it was just like I told you, I was cleaning up your things,” said Hanoi, standing in his living room, legs astride, like the alpha-male he was.

“Oh, Han. Stop it. Please. Look, we need to talk.”

Hanoi saw his moment and came over, putting his arms around her. “Exactly. We need to talk about how it’s going for you up at the Mu-U.”

Come on, Mikita! Do it. Tell him.
“Well, this is the thing, Hanoi. It’s not a great time for me, just now. I’ve got a big essay due next Wednesday for Tamashito - a 12 o’clock deadline - and it’s got to be a good one. If I flunk it then that’s me out of school. My ‘quota of required utilities will not be fulfilled’,” she mantra’d. “Which is why I’m not going to have the time to hang out with you that much anymore -”

Hanoi cut in. “Well, then, we’d better get to work, eh? Can’t have you ending up as a Nite-Watch like me, can we?” He kissed Mikita on her forehead.

Drain me,
she thought.
Is he ever going to take the hint?

“What’s it on, anyway?” he asked, letting her go. “The essay, I mean.”

“21
st
Century Earth-based Cryonic Theory - that MacPherson’s Law stuff – the Scottish guy. But really, I can manage -”

“Hey! Hang on, I might have my old paper on that lying around somewhere. On my Serene maybe, I’ll go check.”

“No, Han, really. There’s no need. I was just going to say that I won’t be able to -”

“Wait a second, I’ll be right back.” Hanoi left the lounge and down the hall to his bedroom.

Men. Why don’t they ever listen?

Mikita’s father, Ichiro, had been like that.

When he’d not been off flying spacecraft.

When he’d not been saying: ‘There’s an adult world, and there’s a children’s world.’

When he’d actually taken an interest in her life…

“Yep, here it is!” Hanoi exclaimed, coming back into the lounge. “I only got a C-, but it might be good for a start, if you’re stuck, I mean?”

“It’s OK, Han. I can manage on my own, honestly.”

Hanoi stepped towards Mikita. “Why are you being so defensive, Miki? Why won’t you let me help?”

“I’m not ‘defensive’. It’s just that I need to do things on my own. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? On. My. Own.”

Hanoi looked confused. “But we can have a future together, you and I. We’d make a great team. What with this chiseled chin, here, and your -”

“No, Hanoi. Listen. It’s not that. And anyway, we hardly know each other. Now’s not the time to be talking about our future or being part of any team. It’s far too early for anyone to be making any kind of commitment to each other.
Get to the point, Mikita!
But, never mind all that, what I’m trying to say is, I think we shouldn’t -”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Hanoi, unexpectedly.

“Oh. Good. So you agree with me that we should stop seeing… well… not that we were actually ‘seeing’ -”

“Yes. I agree. It’s too early to talk about getting engaged, or marriage. But, soon, we’ll need to -”

“Hanoi! Marriage? What in Herra’s name -?”

“Well, Mikita. Look, there’s something I
need to tell you. Something I’ve wanted to say to you for some time now. I think I’m… I’m in love with you. Well, I don’t just think I am, I
know
I am.”

Mikita took a breath.
What? What did he just say?

“There. I said it. And, you know what? It feels great! I love you! I love you, Mikita Smith!”

Oh fire!

“Look, Mikita,” continued Hanoi. “All this talk about TAPCON and The Zip and what-not. You know, they’re really not so bad. I mean, they employ me to look after their buildings. I make money. I live quietly. I have a good life. I have you. We have each other. And when you’
re finished school in September, maybe I can talk to my boss and get you a job. Maybe we can even work together. Maybe I can get you something even better than what I do! You’re bright. Tamashito knows that, and I’m sure the people at TAPCON know it too. You wouldn’t believe what might come your way… if you only bend a little. Just say the right things to the right people, play the game a bit. Listen, let me put in a good word for you, eh? Things will work out. You’ll see.”

Mikita said nothing. She was stunned. Even though she knew she was a product of the TAPCON system herself, she
now resented everything it stood for.

“Well, what do you think?” Hanoi asked.

“I think you’ve lost your draining mind! Fire, Hanoi! Do you seriously believe I would ever consider working for TAPCON? Have you gone mad?”

“Well, you’ve been through the system. I’d hoped that we could at least talk about it.”

Makita exploded. “That is the single most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!”

Hanoi was incensed. “Well, what
are you going to do Mikita?” he said, aggressively. “Hang around with your PASIV friends, protesting all day long? Is that what you think? I mean, do you plan on contributing anything to Muhazian society? To this great, new city of ours? All you do is sponge off the state and flounce around ridiculing everything? Well? Answer me?”

Mikita’s eyes went dark. “At least I won’t be sneaking around other people’s apartments and reading their private thoughts on their Serenes?” she countered. “You know, Polo was right. What are you up to, Hanoi Jones?”

“Up to? Polo thinks I’m ‘up to’ something, does she?” he said, furiously.

“Yes! She does! And so do I!”

Suddenly, Hanoi raised his hand as if to strike her.

Mikita reeled. “Ooooh. Ooooh. Who’s a big man, then? Who’s a big, strong man? Go on, hit me. Hit me, Hanoi. Hard as you like. I won’t feel a thing. Not a draining thing. Because I’ve had so much pain in my life a little bit more won’t make the blindest bit of difference!”

Hanoi’s face became twisted in anger…

“Go on! Do it!” Mikita taunted.

It burned with hate…

“Do it, Hanoi!” Mikita squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the blow to land.

…

But nothing came.

…

She opened her eyes again, slowly, one at a time.

Hanoi had lowered his arm. His face was full of remorse.

“Mikita, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t going to
hit… I … I love you, Mikita.”

“No. No, Hanoi. You don’t love me,” she said, backing away.

He moved towards her, his arms outstretched. “Yes, Mikita. Yes, I do. I do love you.” He came closer. His eyes troubled and distraught.

Suddenly, Mikita began to sense the beginnings of the energy within her
; that painful shock of power and light that seemed to come when she least expected it.

Hanoi grabbed her arms and tried to bring her close to him, tried to hug her, to kiss her, as if he was seeking some sort of desperate absolution. He pawed at her,
like he wanted to possess her.

Mikita could feel the fire inside increasing, that awful flame gaining in its ability. “No, Hanoi Stop it, Hanoi, stop! Keep away from me!”

Still he came at her, his neck straining to reach her face, his lips aggressively pursed.

Mikita felt the overwhelming, aurulent strength surge along the length of her spine and up the back of her neck, sending a hot jet of potency out to her extremities. It filled her with an unbelievable force that she fe
lt powerless to control. She thrashed out, blindly, but somehow landing a thunderous blow to Hanoi’s chest.

It sent him flying across the room.

Hanoi crashed into a large mirror on the wall, his neck whipping back with the horrific sound of tendons snapping and bones breaking - then fell to the floor with a heavy thud as shards of reflective glass dropped down on top of his now motionless body.

Mikita looked down at her hands.

Then reality kicked in - like it always did in Mikita’s life.

No… No… NO!

She ran over to Hanoi and knelt down beside him. There was blood, everywhere. So much of it, everywhere. She began to sob. “Hanoi? Hanoi, wake up. Wake up, you fool! Don’t just lie there! You said you loved me! If you really loved me, you’d draining well wake up!”

She crumpled, racked with guilt, as tears began to stream down her face.

She felt sick. Sick to her stomach.

She threw up onto the floor beside her.

Ugh, what is happening to me!

Her mind began to flood with panic, her thoughts jumping from one thing to the other:

Oh fire, I was so angry. I’ve never been that angry before…

And now I’ve killed someone! I’ve actually killed another human being! With my bare hands!

No. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. I only meant to push him away.

I’ll phone the TTF and explain to them what happened, that it was all a big mistake. Yes, that’s what I’ll do…

They’ll never believe me. Look at this place, it’s a mess.

And the block, it’s full of people - people like Vannerman and Taarja…

Polo. I’ll text Polo…

She went to her bag, found her meta-file and began a message:

[Polo, I think I’ve killed Hanoi? Help Me! M]

She was about to press send, when…

No! Wait!
she thought.
What am I doing! TAPCON could easily pick that up! Short and simple, Mikita, keep it short and simple.

She changed the message, hastily.

[P, I’m in trouble. Meet me? Please? M]

She pressed send.

She started to walk around Hanoi’s lounge, waiting for Polo to text her back.

She looked again at
Hanoi’s body and thought, for a second, that she saw it move.
Maybe he’s not dead…
But her eyes were playing tricks on her and blood was still seeping out of the wound to his head. A long pool of dark red was moving along the floor towards her.

This can’t be real!

At that very moment, Mikita felt a sharp nudging of neurones from somewhere in the back her mind, as a long-forgotten memory was triggered and then shunted to the forefront of her consciousness.

Maybe I could try and heal him? Like the qi-bird… with mother.

Mikita put her meta-file into her pocket and went over to Hanoi’s body. She knelt down beside him and reached out to touch him. His hair was matted with blood. It felt sticky in her hands and his head felt heavy. She forced herself to carry on.

Mikita tried to clear her thoughts, tried to blank out what had just happened. She needed to focus her concentration on something
– anything! But it was so hard to do. In vain she searched her mind for a suitable image or object, something calming, something peaceful.
But what?
She closed her eyes and tried to think. Nothing came. She breathed in through her nose and out slowly through her mouth, as if blowing out a…
candle. Yes, that’s it!
She steadied herself and brought the image of a candle flame to her mind’s eye - the centre, burning soft and yellow - and there, she could see it, the calm azure of the blue zone, giving heat, giving light, giving life.

…

Nothing.

She opened her eyes
- try harder, Mikita, concentrate! -
and took another deep breath.

Closing her eyes again, she thought of her mother. She focused
on the grief; on the pain that she'd felt the day her mother had killed herself; when she was told what had happened by the nice, tall man from the airbase. ‘She was a special person,’ he’d said. ‘And so are you.’ She’d remembered those kind words he'd said to her. Then slowly, steadily, she felt the sensation begin again. It was very faint, like a soft tickle, except unpleasant and with an ominous latency, like the origins of an approaching fulmination - but it was working this time. The force was transforming the very matter within her, the very substance of her being. And then, it came - up and out - giving Mikita a near voltaic surge down her arms and onwards to her fingertips. An impossible eruption of warmth emanated from her now; a glorious healing power moving towards Hanoi’s skull, his head began to glow underneath her hands.

“Open up, Miss Smith! Open this door immediately!” shouted a voice from outside Hanoi’s flat.

Mikita flinched in surprise, and all the power, she’d worked so hard to summon up, suddenly drained from her body in a
whoosh
- like a huge electronic system powering down.

“This is the TTF! Open the door! Immediately!”

Oh, fire!

“Miss Smith! You must open the door, or we will have to break it down! Let’s deal with this peacefully! We don’t want to have to use force! We don’t want to hurt you!”

Oh, Fire! Fire! Draining Fire!