The Rule of Luck by Catherine Cerveny Read Free Book Online Page A

as I hobbled barefoot out the door. It closed behind me with the click of an electronic lock. We progressed down a long corridor. The harsh overhead light showed a collection of gray doors, identical to the one I’d just left. I heard faint shouts from behind each. It made me curious, but now wasn’t the time.
    As my eyes adjusted, I glanced up at the One Gov officer, or “hooah,” was the derogatory term. Young male, dark skinned, dressed in the standard One Gov uniform of gray pants and shirt, insignia crest featuring a yellow sun and three white dots to represent the tri-system of Mars, Earth, and Venus over his left breast, a black beret on his head. Around his waist hung a regulation sidearm, a Sudanese mind spring that could stun the tech quiet in any t-mod, and a decorative dagger which was more for local custom than practical use.
    We eventually reached the end of the hall and another door. Outside was probably a prisoner processing center I’d have to deal with before my release. Gods, I could only imagine the questions they’d ask, and I was fresh out of lies.
    I heard another lock click and the door swung open. The hooah pushed me inside when I hesitated, and I found myself in a large white room filled with rows of desk terminals. Each was occupied by a waxy-skinned and glassy-eyed search jockey. Their desks were empty save for their gracefully folded hands. Their minds were wired into the AI queenmind, processing data. They spoke rapidly in gibberish, as if giving voice to the queenmind’s internal processes. This couldn’t be right. Why was I being paraded through such secretive, high-scale tech? Why not take me out front?
    At the end of the room was a door that led into a tiny antechamber. Inside was a low table where my personal effects lay in a heap. With little fanfare, the hooah directed me to pick them up: my c-tex bracelet, a pair of sapphire earrings I’d bought when I first opened my shop on Night Alley, my suit-belt and velvet boots with their metal-clad heels, and a handbag whose contents seemed intact. I rushed to put myself back together, not even taking the time to check my bracelet. When I finished, the hooah opened another door and shoved me out into the waiting sunlight. The door thudded closed behind me.
    I stood blinking owlishly in the warm, slightly muggy—I checked my c-tex for the timewatch—mid-morning haze. What the hell? I’d been thrust outside without being questioned, processed, or interrogated. The whole situation was so incongruous that I couldn’t figure out what to do with myself next. I’d expected to see Roy, or have a guard sit with me…or something. Instead, I found myself in a deserted back alley, surrounded by garbage bins and shanties with rusted metal roofs. Shit. I’d be rolled in no time.
    Then I saw a flight-limo parked not far from where I stood. The windows were tinted, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It wasn’t like Nairobi was overflowing with flight-limos.
    I watched as a burly bodyguard climbed from the cockpit, stepped around the limo, and pushed the door release. He stood to the side in traditional guard pose—bulging arms folded across his chest, impassive face, wraparound shades. He was tall, fair-skinned with a blond crew cut, and his shoulders alone were so massive they appeared to be wrestling his black suit jacket for dominance. He probably had a boosted MH Factor for strength and could have smashed out of the pit without a moment’s hesitation. In Bahati’s words: a true chain-breaker.
    In a seamless gliding motion, the limo door folded back into itself. Although it seemed the stupidest thing in the world, I stepped forward to get a better look inside.
    Alexei Petriv. Surprise, surprise.
    “Please get in, Ms. Sevigny. I suspect you’ve had a trying day and we have much to discuss.” He gestured to the seat beside him.
    “You arranged for my release?”
    “I’m also your ride. You were very expensive. A planet’s