Boss King and the Blade

Central Markets, The Hole, Spitfield City

Tuesday, October 2046

Boss King

Boss King had been watching the girl steal his money for the past two hours and he was more disgusted than upset. Normally any poachers on his turf would get the sharp end of his tongue. Any who continued to disagree with his lordship over the parking lot would get the sharp edge of his machete.

Nobody argued with Boss King more than once. That was the standard he set for himself and he was very particular about maintaining his standards. This intruder was single-handedly undermining his years of hard work in one sunny afternoon!

She approached another driver as he parked his electric sedan, an expensive four door model with a nearly new paintjob and undamaged fenders. From his hidden observation spot, crouched beside a cargo van, he heard the stupid girl demand only two Pandas to watch over the new arrival.

That had to be a five Panda fee in anyone’s language, yet the driver, a smug looking executive type from the Central District, paid the price with only a stern warning to watch over his valuable car. The girl pocketed the ceramic coins and gave the guy a snappy salute, waiting at least until he was walking away before climbing onto the bonnet for a break.

“Boss King, let me go over there and cut off her thieving fingers” hissed Mighty Princess, his second in command. He glanced at the girl, two years younger than him but a good hand’s breadth taller, and contemplated his response. She had tried to muscle in on his territory a year ago, challenging him to fight over the parking lot rights.

He had seen the hungry desperation in her eyes, the stick thin arms that held her hand sharpened knife. Boss King could have killed her and dumped her body in any number of places he knew, yet her guts had swayed him.

Instead of killing the intruder, he had made her his lieutenant and gifted the girl with a new name. Mighty Princess hefted her own machete, one bought from the Central Markets using her first week’s earnings, and scowled at the interloper.

“She’s a runaway from somewhere” he said to Mighty Princess. “No-one in the Hole would be dumb enough to steal my parking money at the Markets” He chose not to add that was precisely what Princess had tried to do.

His companion and Boss King watched the girl idly kick her feet against the car’s fenders, her mismatched runners scuffing the paint with black rubber. Her clothes were well worn but clean enough, making him suspect she had stolen them from somebody’s washing line. The girl herself looked to be in her early teens, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, with long dark hair hanging loose and obviously Asian ancestry evident in her face. A cracked pair of sunglasses covered most of that face, hiding her eyes from them.

“Could be on the run from bad parents in the Wash” suggested Princess, twisting a lock of her brown hair idly, an unconscious habit when trying to impress Boss King. “Or maybe she has no parents and didn’t want to get sent to Eastbank Juvenile?” He nodded in silent agreement, contemplating the girl with hooded eyes.

It was after the noon rush and no new cars were coming into the parking lot. Boss King knew from long experience it would be quiet until the late afternoon, when factory workers came to do their shopping and buy dinner. The girl on the sedan seemed to realise it too, jumping lightly from the bonnet to the cracked tarmac.

With a guilty glance around, forcing Boss King to hastily push Princess into cover, she counted her small collection of Pandas. The girl rubbed her stomach and set off at a slow pace towards the nearest entrance into the Market ground floor.

“You’re in charge of the parking” Boss King told his partner. He handed her the money belt they used to keep the Pandas in and she tied it around her slender waist, tucking her long shirt over the top. “Remember the company motto” he reminded her.

“No change, no refunds” she answered solemnly. He gave her a grin and set off after the intruder, using the stationary cars as cover. When he passed the fancy four door that had just been parked, he drew his own razor sharp machete. The Bonded Ceramite edge scraped easily through the layers of paint as he moved past, leaving a two meter gouge along one side. He sheathed his blade then set off at a slow run, catching up to the girl as she was ascending the concrete steps into the Market.

“Hey, you owe me ten Pandas!” he called out, startling the girl so she stumbled on the last step, falling to her knees in front of an old mother with her shopping cart. King ran lightly up the steps, stopping beside the girl. She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes surrounded by shadowy circles.

“What?” she muttered, her left hand scrabbling for the fallen glasses. She jammed them on her face once more, refusing the offer of his extended hand to raise her up.

“You collected ten Pandas from people parking in my lot” he explained, standing over her as the old mother shuffled past them. He nodded a greeting to the elderly woman, who gave him a wrinkled smile in reply. “Afternoon, Aunty” he added as he quickly helped her to carry the laden cart down the steps while she slowly descended.

The girl had gotten to her feet when he was at the bottom step, watching as he reunited aged shopper with her shopping.

“Who the hell are you?” the girl had demanded, dusting down her tired looking jeans and shirt. The shirt itself was too short for the tall girl, revealing a strip of pale tan skin around her waist. It could have been a bold fashion statement but Boss King was certain she had just stolen a shirt a size too small.

“I’m the guy whose livelihood you have been stealing” he answered her. “The parking lot belongs to me and no-one parks there without paying my fee”

“You can’t own a parking lot” she scoffed. “It would be owned by the Market”

“I never said I owned it” he replied, looking her over as she scowled down at him. “I said it belongs to me. I won it from the previous guy, One Handed Bob”

She was looking around, obviously checking out her escape routes. King grinned up at her where she stood on the top of the steps.

“In case you were wondering, we only started calling him One Handed Bob after I won the parking lot” He pointed to the Markets behind her, bustling with buyers and stall holders, their cries of haggling echoing from the concrete walls and floor. “There is no point running from me, I know this place like my own hand”

“Is that so?” the girl said. “Well, in that case I’d better give you your money back” She delved into her jeans pocket, then with a flick of her wrist flung the coins over his head. He instinctively turned to follow them and ran to where they fell.

A half dozen bottle caps clattered to the paving, bouncing and rolling around the feet of some surprised shoppers. Boss King stopped chasing the caps, spinning around to see the clever girl vanishing into the depths of the crowded Market.

“Okay, let’s do this the fun way” he declared to himself. He let out a long, piercing whistle and followed it with two short ones. Only a moment later, a whistle sounded from the western end of the Market and he grinned broadly.

“The hunt is on!” he called with glee and surged up the steps, already hearing more whistles and responses from deeper in the Markets.

=====

Melody-Six

Melody ran with a precise gait, diving between slow moving grandfathers and weaving around startled mothers towing children. She had left the strange boy far behind, turning at random down the narrow stalls as she hunted for an exit.

Whistles were sounding around her, the sharp noise cutting cleanly through the background hubbub of the stall traders and patrons. She changed direction again after seeing one of the stallholders, a wiry woman with gnarled fingers putting them to her lips and letting loose two short sharp signals.

The men and women who operated in the Market were obviously signalling her location to the boy. Melody wondered if only he had this power or did they do it for anyone who sent out the call. It would be an excellent tool to warn other stallholders about a thief or troublemaker, letting them track the suspect as they fled through the narrow walkways.

She exited into a larger thoroughfare, shoppers tugging small two wheeled carts and others laden with bags flowing around her as she caught her breath. A single, low note almost like a wolf-whistle caught her ears and she looked to the far end of the stall-lined path. The boy stood there, his hands on his hips as he regarded her with a smug grin.

“Give me my money!” he shouted and slowly walked towards her. Like magic the other patrons moved aside for the small boy, treating him like he was someone of importance. A few even yelled out greetings, calling him ‘Boss King’ or just ‘King’. The guy swaggered as he came, that oversized machete at his hip nearly dragging on the floor.

“It’s my money, short-stuff!” Melody yelled back, then turned and dashed nimbly up a set of concrete stairs to the next level.

“Now that is plain rude!” she heard him answer and then he was out of earshot as she reached the new floor.

=====

Boss King

Boss King paused at the foot of the stairs, seeing the girl disappear onto the next floor. He pursed his lips and sent the code for a thief on the first floor. An answering whistle came back, an acknowledgement. He gave the modulated whistle for ‘watch but don’t engage’ and began to climb the steps.

He had only gone a couple of steps when Dami Kane, the woman who oversaw the security at the Markets, appeared at his side, towering a half meter over his head.

“Yo, Boss King, what’s going on here?” Dami demanded. “I heard we’ve got a thief running around the stalls that you are chasing”

Dami was a tall African woman, once a soldier in the United African Nations and now a refugee living and working here in the Hole. She had an old model synthetic right eye and a heavy Russian surplus combat arm mounted on her right shoulder. The woman carried an old Stun Baton at her hip, well maintained and kept fully charged, but she rarely had to use it. One look at her grim expression and imposing physique and even the craziest of snatch-and-grabbers surrendered right away.

“It’s Okay, Dami” he told her. “Just a frightened runaway trying to earn enough to eat. I’m going to handle it myself”

The woman glared at him with her metal and glass eye, a faint red gleam visible in its depths. Most people reckoned there was more compassion in that eye than her natural brown organic one, yet King had known her ever since she took over the Security job at the Markets. Dami had two kids, both boys his age, that she kept well fed and made sure attended the Westborough Community School. Her life was tough and living in the Hole was tough on everybody, but she was a decent person at heart.

“Fine” she conceded at last. “But keep that bloody knife in its scabbard”

“It’s a machete, not a knife” Boss King replied with a hint of indignation.

“It will be your new butt warmer if I hear you drew it on that runaway” she warned him. Another long whistle sounded, making King and Dami cock an ear. “She’s on the second floor now. You better go and find her so we can stop all this commotion”

“Sure thing, Dami!” King agreed and ran easily up the steps, his sandals slapping loudly on the concrete.

“And stop calling me Dami!” she shouted as he took off. “At work you call me Chief Kane, got it?”

“Yep, no worries Dami!” Boss King yelled and then he was out of her sight.

=====

Melody-Six

Melody hid behind a large refrigerator, labelled as half price off for this week only. The paper sign was faded, the edges curling away from the plastic door of the unit and dust was sticking to the ancient adhesive tape.

Since she had run to the second floor, filled with household goods and furnishings, the whistling had stopped. Only the regular sounds of the Markets filled her questing ears, yet she knew that fearsome looking boy was still hunting her. All for the sake of a measly ten Pandas.

If she wasn’t so hungry she would throw the real coins at her pursuer and escape this concrete labyrinth. She hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, not since her last protein bar that Nursemother Narelle had stuffed into her jumpsuit. The jumpsuit and the protein bar were both now long gone, the last link to her previous life discarded in an old sewage pipe.

A sound of a soft footfall at her rear made her spin hurriedly, arms raised to block the expected blow. The boy stood watching her silently, a bag of something hot and delicious smelling in his right hand.

“I bet you are hungry, aren’t you?” he said calmly. “How about we go somewhere quiet and you can tell me your story?”

Her first, strongest instinct was to lash out with her right fist and then run but she saw the honest concern in his face. Melody pushed that response away with deliberate calm of her own, letting her heartbeat settle and the adrenalin surge fade into mild tremors.

“Is all of the food for me?” she asked him. Her mouth was already watering at the imagined taste of the steaming treats, something she recognised as donuts even thought she had never eaten one.

“Well, I’d like a couple myself” the boy answered, “But you can have the rest”

He led her out of the stall she had been concealed in, nodding a polite greeting to the bemused shop owner and to the outer edges of the floor. The sides of the market were open, only a waist height wall stopping anyone stepping out into open air. A lot of the stall owners had affixed canvas or plastic sheeting over the gaps, keeping out the occasional rain showers and frequent wind.

Melody followed him to a narrow section that was open, allowing some cool afternoon breeze to waft into the stalls. He leaned against the broad concrete lip of the low wall, resting his elbows on the rough surface. The bag of donuts was laid to one side so she stood next to him, the hot sugary treats marking the barrier between them.

“Help yourself” he said to her, fishing out a heavily sugared donut and biting into it. He smacked his lips appreciatively and gestured for her to take one. “Go on, these ones are on me. I get a discount anyway so they didn’t cost much”

The girl took one tentatively, bit into it then gasped in delight. She swallowed the first one in three bites then consumed another with gusto. Melody could not have imagined such simple ingredients could taste so amazingly good!

“There are people who drive here from all over Spitfield, even from Haven and Port August, just to buy these donuts” the boy explained to her. He chose a second one for himself then pushed the rest of the bag in front of her. “So, where are you from?”

Melody had been about to take her third donut when he spoke those words. It was like her hunger vanished in a moment, the wonderful flavour in her mouth now tasting of old blood and burnt plastic.

“Nowhere you’d have heard of” she muttered, brushing her oily hands on the legs of her jeans. For a moment her eyes didn’t see the parking lot below them, only the familiar sights of her home at this time of day. Nursemother Narelle would be taking the knowledge classes, while Guardfather Gregory prepared their physical exercises. Her Hive brothers and sisters were all smiling, happy as they learned the lessons of the day.

“It’s all gone now” she whispered, more for herself than this unusual boy. “Thank you for the donuts, Boss King. If it’s Okay with you, I’ll leave and never come back”

She took the small collection of ceramic coins from her pocket, laying them on the wall next to the remaining donuts. Ten Pandas in total, a tiny amount of money yet it had been all she could earn in this harsh place.

“Keep the money” Boss King said to her quietly, never once looking away from the view outside. “Take the donuts too. They won’t be as good when they go cold, but it will be something to put in your belly”

Melody gratefully scooped up the coins and returned them to her pocket. She grabbed the bag too and turned away when he stopped her with a simple question.

“If you need somewhere safe to sleep, come and find me here at the Markets” he said. “There are a lot of bad people in the Hole and they’ll gobble up someone like you in a heartbeat”

“I can take care of myself” Melody answered with brash confidence and walked away. The boy didn’t follow and she soon found herself back at ground level, moving through the carpark.

Up ahead she saw the guy with the fancy four door sedan yelling and cursing as he examined the long gouge in the paintwork.

“Where’s that little punk I paid my money too?” he screamed in anger, darting his head in all directions. Melody ducked below the bonnet of a small two seater car, then carefully sneaked away in the opposite direction.