Periphery//Chapter One

Periphery//Chapter One

Lucy sighed and looked out the window at the city. It sparkled at high noon, and quite literally. The hundreds of multicolored crystal screens and billboards were turned off until dusk, and the strong sunlight made them glisten and glint like precious gems. That was pretty and all, until one looked beneath at the twisted labyrinth of oxidized green copper and rusted black iron pipes. Lucy had seen the screens a thousand times, mostly from her office, and in fact lived behind a rather nice ad board that always featured the most curious products. This week it was FleurCo's sunflower-scented additive for scooters. As much as it would have delighted her to ride around town smelling fresh as one of the lovely Biodome meadows, clerks simply didn't make that sort of money.

She sighed again, more deeply, and continued staring out the window. Metroline airships drifted back and forth, filling the sky with great poufs of steam cloud. They reminded her of meringue and the lemon pie she had tucked away for lunch. Maybe it was time she took a break up on the roof, away from her cramped little office. The stacks and stacks of papers and tobacco-stained walls always made her feel like she was trapped in one of the manila folders she used for backup filing.

Then a soft ping! announced the arrival of yet another inquiry. Lunch would have to wait. Lucy took the file from the drop slot and removed its soft copper case.

"Oh dear," she said to herself. The palm-sized crystal disc was red. She wasn't supposed to be handling red-class files. They were…well, they were important. Even the content of the blue files was kept classified from her—from all of Dresden Unlimited's clerks, actually. Lucy did her job and didn't ask questions. In return, she got decent pay (enough to live above the Pipeline), the annual holiday parties, and the all-important dental plan.

Occasionally there were errors to deal with, but none of them as major as this.

Lucy put on her headset and flicked the switch to her crystal screen. The image went static for a moment. It always did that, stupid thing. She tapped on the round metal keys and activated a call command for the Corporal. He was a nice man, the Corporal, but he made her nervous. Most authority figures did.

A few seconds later, a slightly fuzzy image of an older gentleman popped up onscreen. If he weren't her boss, Lucy would have thought the man looked something like her late grandfather. Short black hair shot with gray, straight posture, stern expression on his narrow, wrinkled face. His gray-and-red striped suit hung loosely on his thin frame, but as always, he managed to appear neat and well kept.

"Yes?"

"It's Miss Germaine, sir," Lucy said, fiddling with her mouthpiece. "There seems to have been an error in the transport system. I received a red disc by mistake, and I'm not cleared for those."

The Corporal sat silently for a long moment. His expression was stony and hid his thoughts from her. Eventually, he said, "May I ask the filename of this disc?"

Lucy turned the little clear circle over in her hand. Every disc had its own coding engraved around the center hole. "It's called ‘Fairest,' sir," she said, confused. Generally, files had at least three words in their names. An adjective, a noun, and the word "project," or "case," or something similar. She'd even seen a one-word filename in the indexer.

"I see." The Corporal drummed his fingers on the desk. "There was no mistake, Miss Germaine. Just file it as you normally would."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What do I…what do I do with it when I'm finished? My out-port is only cleared for safety through yellow," said Lucy. She'd wanted to ask if he'd really just told her to file a red-class, but at the last minute decided against questioning orders. Still, it was all too strange.

The Corporal looked thoughtful. After yet another moment of silence, he folded his thin-fingered hands and leaned forward. "Listen to me carefully, Lucy. It is very important that disc makes its way back to me in the most discreet way possible. As far as anyone else knows, this was a mix-up. The Chairman was very clear about that. The easiest way would be for you to take the disc home with you. I'll send my assistant to collect it. Is that all right? I promise, there will be a most satisfying reward for your…overtime."

"A-ah…yes, sir." Confusion had left and been replaced by total bewilderment. Lucy's heart beat a little faster. The Chairman? What kind of file was this?

"Thank you," the Corporal said, with obvious relief. "Rhys will be around at seven this evening. If he is late even more than a few minutes, call me. However, I highly doubt that will be necessary. Have a nice day, Miss Germaine. I will speak with you on this matter tomorrow."

#

Lucy could feel the weight of the disc in her pocket the whole ride home. Something wasn't right. What was it she was carrying? Why did the Corporal want to keep it a secret? For the first time, Lucy began to ask questions. Was it a financial secret? Was someone stealing from the company? From the city? She didn't even know if Dresden Unltd. dealt in finances. How strange, to go home one day and finally realize that you have no idea whatsoever what you do for a living.

Once she got home, her nerves began to settle a bit. Out on the open skyways and bypasses she was anyone's game—here she at least had the protection of a locked door and security system. She scooted through the lobby as quickly as possible, trying not to notice how close the front entrance was to the Pipeline, and up to her forty-second floor apartment. She closed the door behind her with a click and a beep and leaned against it in relief.

It was a nice little place, her apartment. One main room, one bedroom, a tiny kitchen unit and a tiny bathroom. Enough for one lonely young clerk, certainly. She'd done it up in cheerful pink and pale green, and on the shelf that curled around the semi-circular main room were her collection of antique mirrors.

It's not to be said that Lucy was a vain girl. She was pretty, so she thought as several dozen reflections came into view, but ordinary. Nothing special. Her blonde hair was always a bit poofy and curled just above her shoulders, which were slender in accordance with the rest of her body. One didn't wear a skintight uniform every day without watching her figure, however many frills of lace the collar and skirt may have. Numerous pairs of large green eyes stared back at her as she dropped her bag and sat down on the couch. They said, as they did every night: why are you still alone?

Well, she wouldn't be alone tonight. Rhys Ackerman was, as well as the Corporal's assistant, one of her closest friends. Maybe after all this business with the red disc was over, they could go out for a drink or a relaxing train ride. She looked at the clock. Six-forty-two. In a slight panic, Lucy jumped up and ran to her bedroom. She hadn't even changed out of her work clothes yet, much less freshened up.

Lucy was just pulling her stockings up under her dress—red and full of lace, just like all the pretty girly things she owned—when the knock came at the door. Six-fifty-five. Five minutes early, how unlike Rhys, she thought, frowning. She slipped the disc into her pocket and headed towards the door to unlock it, but someone else had already done that.

In the open doorway stood an impossibly thin, long-limbed man in a fitted purple suit. He had a top hat pulled down over his narrow face, hiding his eyes just as he hid his hands in his pockets. Lucy stopped where she was, halfway across the room, first wondering how he defeated her security system and then wondering who he was.

There was no question as to what he wanted of her.

"Good evening, Miss Germaine," he said in a surprisingly velvet voice. "You're doing well, I hope?"

Lucy said nothing. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. The thin man smiled and took a few elegant steps toward her. Lucy took a few stumbling steps back. The man stopped and spread his hands wide. They were large-knuckled and scarred, branded with a ring on each palm, and the gesture did nothing to calm her.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said in the same bewitching voice. "I'm just here to pick up something that belongs to my boss. I believe you know what that is, don't you?"

"N-no," Lucy finally stammered. Once again, she could feel the weight of the disc in her pocket, as if gravity were playing favorites and weighing on that one object only. The rest of her felt rather floaty. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The thin man clapped his hands together tightly and sighed. He raised his head, and though his eyes were still shadowed by the brim of his hat, she could see that one of them was bionic and red. An android! Those weren't scars on his palms—they were disc readers! That also explained the security system. Machine-speak for such purposes was illegal, and most systems had a guard against it, but Lucy didn't have the money for one of those and this man certainly didn't have qualms about breaking the law. Lucy was not discriminatory, and was all for equal rights, but knowing the man was not entirely human made her even more uneasy.

"Tell me where the disc is, Miss Germaine," he said. His voice now took on a sharper edge to it, one that would cut her if she wasn't careful.

If only she knew what was on the disc! Then she could decide whether it was worth protecting or not. And where was Rhys? The clock now read seven-oh-four, but he was nowhere—

"Lu? Lu are you home? Why's your door—graugh!"

Lucy let out a thin cry of alarm as Rhys, right on cue, appeared in the doorway and was immediately snatched up by the thin man. Threats were one thing, but violence was another. Especially when it was being used against her best friend. Lucy reached behind her and grabbed the first heavy object her hand encountered—a rare bronze Blackshore mirror with crystal filigree around the edges—and hurled it at the intruder's head.

The silver glass shattered on impact and bounced to the floor. For a second the attacker simply stood still, and Lucy was afraid she'd simply provoked him further. When he dropped Rhys and turned in her direction, she knew she had. But all that was behind her was the window and the Fleur Co. screen, and she had nowhere to run. She stumbled backwards over a coffee table, which jarred the disc from her pocket. The small round ring of crystal spun across the table, glittering in the lamplight, before being snatched up by the thin man.

He glared at Lucy with a sneer and said, "Lucky girl. If I'd known you had the disc on you…" The sneer turned into a leering smile that Lucy did not like the looks of at all. The thin man laughed darkly and tipped his purple top hat at her. "Well then, I hope you have a pleasant night, Miss Germaine. May we never meet again."

Rhys, lying prostrate on the floor amidst the remains of her poor mirror, attempted to trip him on his way out. The thin man simply stepped over Rhys' reaching arm and continued on out the door, which closed after him with a familiar click and beep.

Immediately Lucy rushed to her friend's side. Rhys was naturally pale, but he looked even paler now, like paper almost. The thin flop of green hair that he usually had combed over oh-so-neatly was disheveled and the collar of his suit had been torn. He blinked up at her and then let out a familiarly dramatic sigh and moan.

"Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad," he said, letting Lucy help him into a sitting position. "Lu, you have no idea how bad this is. Oh, the Corporal will have our heads for sure…if they don't have his first of course."

"They? Who's they? What is this all about, Rhys?" Lucy demanded, now that her voice was working again.

"I don't know," Rhys said miserably. "All I was told was that if that disc fell into the wrong hands, it could mean terrible, horrible things for the whole city. That's what I get for being late, I guess."

"It wouldn't have helped to be on time. That man came before seven," Lucy said with a sigh. She began cleaning up the jagged mirror shards, trying not to feel as responsible as she felt. "The phone is over by the kitchen. The Corporal's number should be in there."

But Rhys didn't move. Instead he picked up one of the mirror fragments and turned it in his hand, reflecting the light this way and that. "We're not going to call the Corporal," he said in an oddly calm voice.

"We're not?"

"No. I have a better idea."