Inkers by Alex Rudall Read Free Book Online

could smell the alcohol from two feet away. He said something in Nepali that her translator couldn’t catch.
    “She wants to buy a transmitter,” the shopkeeper replied. “Says she’s not police.”
    “She would say that, wouldn’t she, brother,” he said in Nepali, still smiling.
    “You looking for a good time?” he said in English. All the men laughed.
    “I want to buy a transmitter,” Amber said, grinning back fiercely.
    “Negro wants to buy a transmitter,” a voice said at the back, and some of the men laughed. The drunk man grinned back at them.
    “You want a drink?” he said to Amber, and someone handed him a dirty bottle. “You like whiskey?”
    Amber shook her head. “I want to buy a transmitter, or I’m leaving right now.”
    “No,” the man said, reaching out and gripping her arm. She grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm, hard enough to hurt him a little and make him release. He grimaced, but then laughed and let go of her, shaking out his wrist.
    “Oh, transmitter!” he said. He turned around and nodded at one of the men. The man disappeared through a door and came back holding something. He gave it to the drunk man, who held it out to Amber. It was a modified watch. She took it and switched it on.
    “Forty thousand,” the man said, nodding and smiling. “Very cheap.”
    Amber tapped at the screen. There was no response.
    “Is it broken?” she said to Emily in her inside voice.
    “Not even a watch,” the implant replied. “Just a casing.”
    Amber shook her head. “No,” she said.
    “Just no signal here,” the man said.
    “Bye,” Amber said, and she dropped the case to the floor and turned to go.
    “Wait,” the man said. She looked back and from nowhere he had another watch in his hand. He tapped the screen and it glowed. He handed it to her. She pressed connections —it was picking up from eighty–four local transmitters. She had never seen more than four at once in the US. She loaded up the front forum.
    “Is it legit?” she subvocalised.
    “As legit as this shit can be,” Emily said. “It’s worth ten k at most.”
    “I’ll give you eight thousand rupees,” Amber said out loud.
    “Eight thousand!” the man said, mock–shocked. Amber shook her head and turned to leave.
    “OK, OK, wait, is OK, eight thousand,” he said, holding out his wrist.
    “Do it,” Amber said to Emily, and touched his personal watch to hers. They made a noise like coins rattling inside a jar. The man checked his watch and grinned.
    “Thanks,” Amber said.
    “Sure, sure,” said the man. “Stay, drink!” he said, holding up the whiskey, but she was already at the door.
    “Get me a secure drone to take this home, now,” she said to Emily. “Use my personal account.”
    Amber walked quickly out of the shop. It was already hovering at the door, waiting for her, a sturdy–looking quadcopter with an open drawer like a mouth.
    “That’s it,” said Emily. Amber dropped the watch into the drawer. With a whine the drone shot up into the air.
    She turned to go just as an empty taxi passed. She waved and it stopped immediately, the door sliding open. She jumped inside and sat on the dirty, ripped seat. The door slid shut and locked just as she realised what she was doing and Emily said, “No!” The taxi accelerated suddenly, shooting down the street and then hard left down an alleyway, throwing her against the side of the car. She swore and struggled to right herself.
    “Backup, now!” she shouted, and threw herself against the door she had come in through, tugging the emergency handle. It snapped off. The car plowed down the alley, throwing dirty water out to the side, people in rags jumping out of the way. It turned hard left again, throwing Amber down once more, shot through an open gate into a small courtyard and slammed to a halt.
    She scrambled up as the door slid open. The men from the shop were running out of a door, several of them holding metal bars, one giant of a man