Lisa Smedman - The Lucifer desk

Carla caught her breath. “How did you-?” Then the corners of her mouth turned down. “It’s true I’m working for them,” she answered. “But not willingly. And I really did come here to make sure you’re all right.”

She was telling the truth. Pita retracted her mental claw from Carla’s mind. “But you can’t do anything for me.” She scuffed the toe of her running shoe against the floor. “No one can. I’m stuck here until I do what they want-until I talk to that fragging spirit again. They don’t care drek about me-just about what I can do for them. And if I agree, they’ll only kill me when I'm done. When they don’t need me any more.”

Pita could see from Carla’s expression that the reporter didn’t need to be convinced that Mitsuhama saw people as disposable. The corporation’s goons had killed Yao, and his only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time-standing in the way of something the corporation wanted back. And they’d burned down Aziz’s shop without a second thought. The only reason they were keeping Pita alive was because she was valuable to them. Or at least her arm was, anyway.

She stifled the urge to scratch the burn. The mages who had talked to her seemed to be convinced that only she could “read” the true name that had been seared into her flesh. But if she stalled too long and they figured out how to decipher that code themselves, they might decide that everything but her arm was expandable.

“Pita, listen to me.”

Pita returned her attention to the reporter.

“Mitsuhama doesn’t just want the spirit kept out of the Matrix,” Carla said. They’ll want to do more research on it. And that means they have to keep you alive. You’re the only one who can control the thing. You’re the one in charge of it. And Mitsuhama knows that. Listen,” she said, leaning closer. “I know they’ve treated you badly-I saw the magemask you were wearing when I came in. They’ve tried the stick approach so far, but I’ve persuaded them that the carrot is more effective. They’re willing to pay you thirty thousand nuyen if you cooperate. And to release you afterward.”

Pita looked up. Thirty-K nuyen? That was as much as her father made in a year. She’d be rich! She’d have her own apartment, nice clothes, maybe buy a car But then reality set in. The corporation had done nothing but manhandle and bully her so far. Why the frag should they actually pay her, once they got what they wanted? And what else would they make her do with the spirit? Probably force her to use it to kill. The one taste Pita had of that power had been enough. She hadn’t been able to smell the cops skin crisping as the spirit licked across their bodies, but she’d seen the terror in their eyes. It was hard enough to do that to someone she hated, never mind geeking some innocent person. She didn’t want any part of that deal. At any price.

“Do you really believe they’ll give me the money and then just let me go?” she asked Carla.

“Of course,” the reporter answered. But her head moved a fraction of a centimeter to the left and right. The body language in the head shake was clear. The real answer was no. “And in the meantime, I’ll be working on your behalf, keeping tabs on you: We still have that story on Lone Star to do, after all.”

Pita sat for a moment, thinking. Was there no way out? She stared at the reporter, watching as the pupil of Carla’s cybereye dilated and contracted independently of her real eye. At first she was angry at the thought of the reporter shooting trideo of her without her permission. Even though they were pirate broadcasters, the guys at Orks First ! had been up-front about the fact that they were shooting trid, Anwar’s bulky, antiquated camera had been especially hard to miss. Pita wondered where he was now. And then, all at once, she saw a way out.

“Tell Mitsuhama that I’ll do it,” she said carefully. “I’ll control the spirit and give it new commands. But only if it’s covered-live-by Orks First ! Trideo.”

A grin was growing on Carla’s face. “A live trideo broadcast? That’s good. Now you’re thinking like a reporter, kid. They won’t dare continue to hold you here against your will-not while the cameras are rolling. And well keep the live broadcast going until you’re out of here and have reached somewhere safe.”

Safe. Pita mulled the word over. Would she ever really be safe? She was just one kid up against a huge corporation. But at least she could buy herself some breathing time. And some temporary freedom. All she had to do was confront an immensely powerful magical creature and explain a concept to it that she herself didn’t really understand. Piece of cake.

“Is there anything you want?” Carla asked. “Anything I can get you?”

“Yeah,” Pita answered. “Tell those yak fraggers not to put that hood back on me. And tell them I’m hungry. I want a sushi burger, some deep-fried noodles, a Growlie bar, a can of Fizz, a medium Wide Wedge pizza with everything, some…

“Slow down!” Carla said. “I'm sure they’ll bring you whatever you like, once you’ve agreed to cooperate. But first you’d better tell me how to get in touch with Orks First !’

The Orks First ! pirate adjusted his tripod-mounted portacam and peered through the range finder. Anwar was wearing jeans and a fringed Tribal Wear shirt, and had a red scarf knotted around his head. He even had an eye patch. It was a dull silver, rather than the traditional black pirate patch, and full of electronics. While his portacam was rolling, it would provide him with a direct feed, showing exactly what the camera was capturing. Pita couldn’t image how he could watch both it and the real world at the same time and not be disoriented and stumble about. But the double vision didn’t seem to bother him in the least, even though the equipment was brand new and he must still be getting used to it.

Anwar stepped in front of the camera and touched the audio feed in his ear. “Hoi Alfonz! You gettin’ a feed? Give me a code-blue signal if it’s comin’ through.”

After listening for a moment, he waved a hand to catch the attention of those who had gathered in the room. “Okay,” he told them. “I’m set. We can start any time you like.” He turned to address the Mitsuhama and Renraku executives directly. “Just one warning. I’ll know if you break the patch to the KKRU transmitter, If I don’t get a steady feed of codes from my ah… associates… I’ll know the broadcast has gone off the air or has been tampered with. So no funny stuff, huh? We want this livecast to go smoothly.”

Pita stood between two suits, shuffling her feet uncomfortably. A cluster of executives had been assembled in the research lab where the spelleasting would take place. Behind them, mages put the finishing touches on the hermetic circle, placing the elements in their positions and making sure the lines were intact.

One of the executives-a slender Asian fellow with a gold ring and wristcom-nodded at the ork reporter. “We too will have associates watching the broadcast, if the voice masking slips and reveals any copyrightable spell material, we’ll pull the plug.”

“Agreed.” the ork rumbled. Then he turned to the mages. “Ready?”

They nodded, and he raised his microphone. It looked slender as a twig in the ork’s massive hand. He turned to face the camera as a red light winked on.

“This is Anwar Ingram, comin’ at you live from the Mitsuhama Computer Technologies secondary research laboratory in Bellevue. We’re here today with an exclusive Orks First ! interview with a young ork by the name of Patti Dewar. This previously unknown magical talent has been chosen to head up a joint magical experiment by MCT Seattle and Renraku Computer Technologies.