Page 16 of Spark Transform

After seeing how easily Charrascos traced specific reader interest in her anonymously published traffic accident article, he was glad he hadn’t searched for public data or stories about them. Or about himself, for that matter. The CPS had high-powered data-mining algos and expert data divers to interpret them. The agency would kill him instantly if they found him.

Renner checked that the townhouse’s front door was sealed, then checked the feeds from all the sensors. He’d decided to sync them to the controller that came with the system rather than his own percomp. He only connected his percomp to the net when he wanted to read. One less thing for enemies to track.

Which reminded him, he needed to find out who the top crews were in Ridderth these days. He’d been avoiding them all because it’d be too easy to fall back into the only life he’d known before Davidro. But he couldn’t do his job if he didn’t recognize trouble when it scuttled in.

He folded the controller screen and slid it into his pocket, so if it alerted, he’d both hear and feel it with his talent. He liked tech and figuring out how it worked, but his talent tended to be hard on it.

The percomp Charrascos had given him was only still alive because it was shock-resistant, and because he’d only used tiny trickles of talent since becoming Faraday Brenner. His looks had changed drastically, but his unique talent hadn’t, and people might remember him.

He needed to get the hell off the fucking planet and find a better way to damage the CPS. Would Charrascos take him with her when she left?

With nothing better to do, he stripped off his clothes and cleaned up in the tiny fresher connected to his bedroom. He enjoyed the luxury of not having to share the shower as he did in the tenement in the Canals, where he rented a room, and of having a working solardry unit. Being cold and wet in Ridderth could be deadly.

He could have afforded a better living space, but that would have meant spending more of the cashflow chip Charrascos had gifted him. Even after buying blackmarket biometrics changes, he still had more than half left and wanted to keep it that way. Besides, bartering kept him off transaction trackers. What the government didn’t know, they couldn’t tax or trace.

While he put on his exercise clothes, which doubled as sleepwear, he synced his percomp to the net. Two messages at once — a record for him.

After reading them, he climbed the stairs to Charrascos’s office. He liked the exercise and disliked the townhouse’s musty-smelling lift.

She’d changed into a green loose-knit shirt and dark pants printed with famous galaxy patterns, but she was still awake, curled up in the townhouse’s only padded chair, reading her pink-rimmed tablet at lightning speed. She smiled and paused the feed when she noticed him. “Want to be a subject-matter expert on electrical theory for me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know any.”

She blinked. “None at all? I’d have thought that with your unique talent…” she trailed off with a frown. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Usually, he kept his past to himself, but Charrascos knew some of it because she’d read Davidro’s journals. She’d admitted it when she’d visited him in rehab. Neither of them knew where they came from, especially since the originals had been written on actual paper and in supposedly uncrackable code. She’d used selected information from them to flesh out the Faraday Brenner identity, but so far, hadn’t published a word about any of Davidro’s staff, including him. Yet another debt he owed her.

He blew out a noisy breath. “Basic school tanked. No one wanted no-name, no-account Canals kids in class. Once I learned Standard English and illegal-betting math, I jetted.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Davidro banned me from watching vids. Said they gave me ideas.” He twitched a half smile at her. “He was right, but forgot to ban books, too. I nearly escaped twice because of stories I read.”

Charrascos’s lips tightened. “I’d like to believe your monstrously warped twist of a former boss got leashed, wrung out, and chained in some Central League hellhole, but I’m a realist. He’s too useful to the CPS.”

A frisson of fear flashed through Renner. The idea that Davidro was still alive and would want Renner back paralyzed him for a moment.

Charrascos stood up and crossed to him, her bare feet soundless on the hard floor. “I’m sorry.” Her expression showed compassion, but no pity. He hated being pitied.

He made himself unclench his fists. “I know he could still be out there. He was nova-class at self-preservation.” He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to soothe the sick feeling in his stomach. “I’m fucked up. You should terminate my contract and get someone who can keep you safe.”

She started to speak, then stopped. Her head tilted a little. “Did you have a name besides Renner?”

“Lots of them.” He briefly crooked a corner of his mouth in wry humor. “I was unwisely going by ‘Sparks’ when Davidro caught me. He used to generate a new ID for me for every assignment, but he started reusing them when he realized how little planetary governments talk to each other. Why?”

“I meant before. When you were a kid.”

Her soft voice and warm eyes drew him. He was suddenly, viscerally aware of her unique electrical signature and the compelling warmth of her. His body stirred at the idea of being touched. Of touching her.

He stood his ground but crossed his arms and slid his hands under his armpits. “I grew up on the streets. No family. My earliest memories are of hiding and always being cold. I was small and fast, so a local enforcer hired me as a runner. He had a weird accent, not Ridderth street, and pronounced it ‘renner.’”

She nodded. “He gave you a purpose.” Her hand twitched toward him, but then she frowned and backed up. “Damnit, I keep having to apologize to you tonight.” She started to turn away, then stopped. “You came up to tell me something?”

He had no idea what she was feeling guilty about or what was going on in her head. Hell, he had enough trouble figuring out what was going on in his own. “Yeah, the martial arts studio where I go said they’ll take you, as long as you don’t bring an entourage. We can go to the open session tomorrow afternoon at fourteen hundred, if it fits your schedule.”

She twitched a smile. “Entourage?”

“I guess they think anyone with a galactic fame quotient has an entourage. Like your boss Tapio does.” He frowned. She should have a security squad, not just one undereducated fugitive who couldn’t afford to use his only talent to protect her.

She snorted derisively. “You can get a Q-rating for a sewer slug if you pay the fee. Let me check my calendar.” She picked up her pink-rimmed tablet. “We can leave the office after my meeting with Devanesh to review personal security candidates for me. She claims she’s not a minder, but I’d swear she has a unique talent to piss everyone off. I’ll probably need the exercise to let off some steam after that.” She marked a block in her calendar.

He thought of a question he should have asked earlier. “Are you a minder?”