Part 17 (2/2)
”Hey, what is it?”
”I just... don't know what to do. Where to go.”
”Why don't you come with us?”
”Who's 'us'?”
”We are the Vauxhall Spidermen.” Opal grinned. ”Except I'm more Spidergirl myself.”
Richard's eyes were blurring. He gave one sob, then caught himself. ”Sorry.”
”Come on. This way.”
Technically the Spidermen lived in a squat, or a sequence of squats joined together. The street was part-derelict, but the local council had refurbished some of the houses: outer walls coated with cheap ceramic, rooftops s.h.i.+ning with photoplastic. The gekrunners had possession of houses that were on the council's to-do list or according to Opal, the won't-ever-get-aroundto list. The interiors were plain-painted, sc.r.a.ped back to brick in some places, decorated with movie posters looping through five-second clips. Several showed gekrunners performing daredevil acrobatics. Through the rear windows, Richard could see rows of photobulbs, soaking up sunlight. Inside, he counted twenty-eight different people before he gave up keeping track. Most were thin, some with lean muscle. Was everyone a gekrunner?
Laughter sounded from upstairs.
”Do all these people live here?” Richard looked at the varicoloured cus.h.i.+ons scattered around the floor. ”I mean, here or the other houses?”
Opal was about to answer, but a male voice forestalled her.
”Most do.” The speaker was tall and white. ”Me, I sleep over the shop most times.”
”This is Brian,” said Opal. ”And this is Richie.”
”Hey.”
”Hey.”
”Richie's a tech head. Richie, tell Brian about the Van Vols. You know.”
”Say what?”
”In the gloves. Tell him.”
”Uh...” Richard shook his head. ”She means gekkomere tapping into van der Waals forces.”
”Cool. You've got it.”
”But Kyle's skating, how does that work?”
Brian gestured. ”Show him your boot soles, Opal.”
”OK.” She put on hand on Richard's shoulder for balance, then raised one foot. ”See?”
”Hyperglace gel strips.” Brian pointed. ”Like the gekkomere, flips between two modes. Just apply a tiny potential.”
”And they're frictionless?”
”Coefficient d.a.m.n near close to zero.”
”At ambient temperature?”
”Unless the weather is”
”You two.” Opal lowered her foot, releasing Richard's shoulder. ”Tech heads.”
The absence of her hand felt... strange. Warm and strange.
”You hack code?” asked Brian. ”Course you do. If you want to work, come over to the shop in the morning.”
”Er...” Richard looked at Opal. ”Work?”
”We aren't losers.” Brian nodded toward the seated people. ”Apart from maybe Kenny over there. He's a doctoral student at King's, and a total waste of s.p.a.ce.”
”I love you too, man.” Kenny raised a hand to Richard. ”Hey.”
”Hey.”
Richard looked down at the floor. It was cleaner than he'd expected. Of course he had to work, because that was what people did, or at least grown-ups. Fourteen year-olds did not pay tax, were outside the system that adults lived in, so whatever Brian meant it was surely illegal.
”It's what they call cash in hand,” said Opal. ”No ID required. No phone. Good place.”
”Oh. And it's a shop?”
”You'll like it.” Brian tapped Opal's gauntlet. ”We sell stuff like this. Gekrunner tech, bikes with graphite memories, you name it. At least until July twentieth.”
Richard's guts clenched. Knife blade, coming at me. Knife blade, coming at me. But there was no knife, and he was safe, because Zajac was in school and that was another world. July twentieth was the day of the But there was no knife, and he was safe, because Zajac was in school and that was another world. July twentieth was the day of the Knife Edge Knife Edge final, when Zajac had said he'd come for him. But he was away from that, and safe. final, when Zajac had said he'd come for him. But he was away from that, and safe.
Safe from Zajac, anyhow.
”He's talking about the general election.” Opal shrugged, distorting the cartwheeling logo on her s.h.i.+rt. ”Politics.”
”Matters more than you think, kid.” Brian waved his phone. ”If Fat Billy Church stays in office, they're threatening to make cash illegal. Pure phone-to-phone economy.”
”That's impossible,” said Opal.
”All they got to do is stop making coins and notes, then announce a cut-off date. Bring your cash into a bank for credit, or it drops to zero value, and you have b.u.g.g.e.r all.”
Richard's stomach made a noise. He felt stricken; but Opal smiled.
”He needs feeding. Smell that? They're cooking chilli.”
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