 
Safety Maid: Nancy Rose

By William Wire

Copyright William Wire 2015

Smashwords Edition 2.0

Cover Illustration by Wayne Miller

Table of Contents

Blood Party

Captain's Desk

Black Tears

Florida Dreams

The General

Simple Proposal

Junk Garden

Great Calamity

Madam Greenthumb

Baby Junkie

Space Men

Social Agents Don't Cry

Mint Smoke

Cinderella's Shoe

Maple Twins

Troll Cave

The Knight

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Preview Chapter
Blood Party

Talky said she had a hot tip, a tip that couldn't wait.

The day had just turned into a warm night, and the sky above had been sweating down over the streets of the china sector, giving it a much-needed wash. The regular worn out faces, always seen day and night here (the loiterers, the con artists, the dealers, and worse), had all retreated, disappearing down alleyways and through paint-chipped doors. The rain had cleared out the filth, and for now, had helped with the awful smell there too. For that little gift, Social Agent Nancy Rose welcomed the unexpected rain, coming this late in fall.

Sitting in her federal vehicle, Nancy massaged her trigger finger, as she watched the water droplets smack and slide down the windshield. Her finger still felt stiff. Yesterday, she had gone through at least twenty magazines at the target range, shooting as much as she could. She had definitely been due for some practice, at least. She hadn't fired her nine-point-nine millimeter in over two months.

Nancy knew a social agent should never get rusty. She couldn't afford to, or, she'd end up zipped up in a body bag or somewhere worse, like in an alleyway, naked and dead. A social agent had many enemies, and she, in her standard issue uniform and with a shiny badge on her cap, was a glaring target.

Many of Nancy's former sisters had never made it to retirement alive. That was a sad fact of life that every social agent that took the badge knew. She had to always be alert, and always be tougher than the other girls, or get killed, it was that simple. The job wasn't easy for sure. Nancy also knew that being a social agent meant being resented, even from the girls she tried to help. The lower-class girls hated all the rules, Nancy had come to realize, but the rules were there for their own good, they kept them safe. She didn't always enforce them too strictly, no, but she would if necessary, because Nancy knew the rules worked, and that without them, society would collapse again. _Everyone would die_ , thought Nancy, _all the girls and the boys too_.

The streets of the china sector had been hit relentlessly by rain for over twenty minutes by now, and had become enveloped by a rising steam. Only the hazy forms of neon signs and colored lights could be seen easily through the fumes. The whole place seemed dream-like, thought Nancy, as she waited patiently for her contact to show.

Soon the rain slowed enough, and a slender figure in white emerged in the mist. Nancy had lowered her driver's side window, just a crack, when she recognized the China girl nick-named Talky. The girl had a sly look on her face today, as she walked, swaying her hips and sashaying her legs, toward the car. The girl moved like that purposely, knowing that Nancy was watching. Talky was dressed nicely in a flowery skirt and top, with a white fur over her bare shoulders, and a pair of pure-white high heels on her feet. She looked almost ghostly moving through the steam in that outfit. Above her head, she held a colorless parasol to fight off the rain. A smile appeared on the girl's face when her eyes met Nancy's eyes.

When at the car, Talky slinked down beside the driver's door, before winking softly through the window with her cat-like eyes. Nancy lowered her window more, just a bit more. The girl smiled big, before blowing a kiss with her purple, always purple, lips through the window. "Hello, blondie," said the China girl, playfully.

Nancy groaned, and asked, "You got something?"

"Oh, sure I do. What's your ride tonight? Need some vertigo? How 'bout a dragon dream? Do you want to chase that rabbit? I know. Sure I do. Your type likes to forget. I can tell these things. And Talky might just have some sleeping beauty--"

"Knock it off Talky. I'm here for the tip. Give it to me, or stop wasting my time."

"Sure, I got one. It's a good one too. I mean... it's bad, it's very bad. Nothing worse."

Nancy lifted her eyebrows.

The China girl wavered, right before spitting it all out to Nancy. The only sounds heard were from the rain falling and a faint crackling thunder in the distance. Eventually, the girl found a way to talk; she curled her purple lips, and whispered two words through the window crack. "Blood party." Talky hadn't wanted to say those words to Nancy. And Nancy knew why.

Years ago, Talky had won the federal lottery, when she was just twenty-one. Most marriage celebrations were no more than three days, the standard practice now, but Talky had demanded seven for herself. She had to, she had said, because seven was her lucky number. On the morning of the seventh day, the wedding day, her husband had gone missing. Eventually his body was found later that week tied to a motel bed, ripped to pieces, with his guts leaking out onto the carpet. He was a victim of what the Sicarii call a blood party. The China girl went into mourning that afternoon and stayed mute for seven more days after that. Poor Talky could never try again. The lottery had strict rules, ones written by the Department of Safety, and were enforced by the social agents, like Nancy. Girls were given one chance, and only one, at the marriage lottery. If a girl won once, then she could never try again, even if her husband had been murdered or died some other way. _I understand how she feels_ , thought Nancy, _it really doesn't seem fair_.

Talky made it safely through her mourning phase, the girl was much tougher than she looked. Other girls wouldn't have made it through; some would've lost their marbles. A terrible thing like that could really hurt a girl for good. Nancy had seen girls go out hard and some soft in her line of work. A lot did it with pills, quietlike and respectful, while others put a gun in their mouth, and left a mess for others to clean up. In Nancy's department they didn't call it that other word, the bad word, no, they called it, "missing the stairs." Laney Poppy, an old novel writer, did herself in at forty-nine by famously missing her own stairs. Since then, the girls had always called it that. Nancy had been luckier than most girls, she had to admit that, so she never let herself look down the stairs too long. Whenever she had to clean up after a girl, she tried never to judge too harshly, even if the girl had no good reason to. When a girl was done, she was done, and that was the way it was.

Rubbing her tanned gloved hands, Nancy asked the China girl, "When and where?"

"Soon. Tonight..." answered the cat-eyed girl, before pausing, and then biting on her own bottom lip. The girl thought for a good few seconds before continuing, "I'm not _sure_ , about the _exact_ time. The source got a little fuzzy about the details, but she did say it was definitely room seven-one-seven at the Noir Belle Hotel, near the condemned sector. That's all Talky knows."

"Seven-one-seven, Noir Belle Hotel?"

"That's right, blondie. And, you should hurry," said Talky, letting another smile slip out. "You don't wanna be late... for the party. Better bring a dress too, a sexy one. It's so rude to show up, not dressed right. I know. Sure I do."

Annoyed, Nancy looked away from Talky, and then turned on the car engine. "Anything else I should know?" Nancy looked back.

"No, but how 'bout a goodbye kiss?" The China girl's eyes fluttered.

"How 'bout, I don't arrest you instead. How 'bout that?"

Talky stood up, puffed out her chest, and said with pouty lips, "You're no fun, safety maid." (Social agents hated being called safety maids, and for sure, that's exactly why the lower-class girls said it, to bother them.) After being refused, the China girl twirled around with her parasol in a little-overacted huff, and then, at a deliberately slow pace, marched away in her white heels. She made a point to rock her hips and stomp her feet, singing out lyrics to a very old song.

_My only_ love, _is the barrel of a gun._

_My only_ love, _is the barrel of a gun._

Nancy despised that song, and for sure, Talky knew that. It was popular once long ago, before a suit in the capital realized what the lyrics were really about, and then had the Department of Safety ban it like it was street pills. Only in underground places and in un-monitored alleyways, could the song still be heard occasionally. Most girls only knew the chorus, because the song had been off the airways for such a long time. Being caught with a copy could get a girl a week in jail, or get a one a thousand dollar fine, or, it could just get the violator a punch in the face from a social agent, depending on the social agent. Most regular girls didn't challenge social agents over banned music too often though.

Only an over-cocky criminal like Talky would dare peddle illegal songs with a social agent aware of it, and, only someone like her would be arrogant enough, or dumb enough, to rub it in the social agent's face for the fun of it. Nancy tended to turn a blind eye to most of the China girl's criminal pettiness. Most of it was tolerable to Nancy, as long as the girl continued to prove herself useful as an informant. So for now, Nancy would keep playing with the girl and tolerate her little jabs. Besides, Nancy knew that illegal music wasn't the worst thing the girl sold, not by a long shot, but that was all part of the deal too, for now at least. Nancy kept things under containment though; Talky had agreed to not deal in guns, no matter what. One day, when Talky was no longer useful, the China girl's career would be over for good, and Nancy would make sure of it personally.

As soon as the China girl had strutted out of sight, the rain suddenly stopped, and the heavy steam began to fade from the streets. _Perfect_ timing, guessed Nancy. The social agent kissed the diamond ring that hung from a silver necklace around her neck, and then slid the ring down her collar. Sniffing the air, she caught a whiff of the china sector returning. _Oh gross_. The horrible, and usual, smell from the place had already started to return. _Yeah, time to leave this shithole_ , decided the social agent.

She sped off aggressively in her federal sedan, plowing through watery ditches, and riding over curbs, until she made the ramp onto the highway, and then merged into traffic. Without knowing how much time she actually had before the blood party, Nancy would assume there wasn't any time to spare. She knew she could beat the traffic flow of the civilian vehicles by at least thirty miles an hour, because no girl ever dared to speed around a social agent _. It's only ten minutes away from the exit normally_ , thought Nancy, _so_ _I should get there in six._

She switched on her tech-phone, and spoke into it. "This is US Social Agent Nancy Rose. Can I get a police dispatcher, please?" No response came for a few seconds. Then suddenly, muffled laughter, followed by rough coughing came through the phone, and then finally a girl's voice said, "Good evening, safety maid. What can we do for you, tonight?"

"I have the whereabouts of a possible blood party. I need assistance from-"

More laughter erupted from the phone. "Shut up," yelled the girl on the phone. "I'm working here. "Sorry, sorry, safety maid, what were you saying?"

"I need help at the Noir Belle Hotel at room seven-one-seven. I got good info that a blood party is underway, or maybe soon."

"Huh?" The girl adjusted her microphone. "I mean sorry. Sorry, again. Someone else here was talking. What about a party now?"

"Just send officers to the Noir Belle Hotel at room seven-one-seven, immediately."

"Oh, okay, we'll get the girls on it, right away, safety maid. Thank you for calling. I told you girls not to--" The signal shut off with a fizz.

Nancy wondered why she even bothered with them.

Minutes later, Nancy took the exit off the highway and drove to the edge of the condemned sector. The streets were mostly dead around there, so she was able to keep a fast, but safe, pace. At the last alleyway before a barricade, she swerved hard, just before missing her turn. Her federal vehicle rolled to a stop, right next to an Employee Only door at the old hotel named the Noir Belle. The wooden door looked so old that a good strong yank might pull it right off its hinges. A fat old girl sat outside on the ground nearby, with her head sunk down between her dirty knees, and a liquor bottle tipped over near her soiled bare feet. _Disgusting_ , thought Nancy, _How can a girl let herself go like that?_

After stepping out of her car, the social agent immediately turned and faced the driver-side window. She inspected herself in the glass. Her uniform looked correct and proper, so she stroked back her blonde hair once, and placed the uniform cap back on her head again, lining it up straight. There was never an excuse for a girl to look sloppy believed Nancy. "Girls respect a girl more when she looks tight," her mother had often told her. And, every time Nancy looked at her reflection, she saw her late mother staring back at her to remind her of that. Nancy and her mother had the same face, identical in fact, even the same intense blue-green eyes. Nancy had been conceived by the mono-fertilization process, making Nancy, effectively, a clone of her mother. _Perfect_ , she thought, taking one last look at herself in the window, Mother _would be proud_. She turned and approached the hotel door.

The old girl with dirty knees didn't seem like a threat to the social agent, so Nancy didn't bother pulling her handgun. Frankly, the old girl looked barely functional. As Nancy stepped in front of the door, the old girl lifted her head up to see, and revealed her fat ugly face. The girl's eyes had become darkened and hollow, as if the girl had been awake for many days without any sleep. Her nose too, was messed up looking, and had become crooked, probably from some old fight that had never healed right. The old girl had put thick makeup on her face, much like a girl would have done going out to a nightclub, or to a party. The makeup, itself, seemed layered and smeared, as if the girl had been wearing it for a long time. A tiny drop of vomit slipped out of the old girl's mouth, as she tried to say something, but couldn't get it out. She only managed to make a weak grunt noise toward Nancy.

Nancy gave the ugly girl a disgusted look in return. The girl let her head fall back down between her knees, and loudly belched. _It's a real shame._ Nancy turned away and tried the doorknob on the Employee Only door. Conveniently, it wasn't locked, so the social agent just walked right into the hotel.

Inside the Noir Belle Hotel, Nancy saw that the lobby had been drowned in trash, piled up high against the walls, and even blocking the elevator doors. There was a lone handwritten sign above the lobby elevator that read "Out of Order," as if someone might believe the elevators were working and try to use them. _Not in this dump_ , thought Nancy, _no way_.

Where the walls were clear of garbage, graffiti had spoiled them. Mostly the pictures were of cartoonish horses, boobs, cats, and, of course, obscene images of girls' bodies being penetrated with various disturbing things. None of which were interesting to Nancy, much less appropriate for any girls to see, but there was one detailed drawing that stuck out, and Nancy noticed it quickly. Guarding the way to the stairwell, a sinister-eyed girl, sprouting batwings from her back and fangs out her lips, pointed up the stairs with a single finger from her black clawed hand. Nancy had a hunch that drawing wasn't just more random graffiti. The bat-winged girl seemed like an invitation, or a warning, or maybe both. Nancy wasn't sure which yet. Regardless, she had to take the girl's pointed direction anyway, in order to get to the seventh floor.

At the bottom of the stairs, Nancy looked up the tall stairwell, and fully took in the scale of the hotel's many stories. She sighed to herself. _Oh well, at least I only need to go up seven floors._ She began her climb.

Going up the stairs, she found it difficult to breathe in as she went. The stairwell, though strangely cleaner than the lobby area, had a lingering stench that only got worse the higher she went. On the third floor, she finally discovered the cause; a dead cat's body, slowly rotting away. A tiny jingle bell on a collar hung around its flattened neck. _Some girl once loved the poor thing_ , thought Nancy, _but now that it's dead, no one could be bothered enough to clean it up_. She marched past it quickly, ignoring the nasty smell as best she could.

Past the fourth floor, Nancy began hearing laughter and talking echoing from above. The voices sounded like young girls, guessed Nancy, and there shouldn't be any more than two or three of them. Nancy stepped lighter in her synthetic-leather boots, as she continued up.

At the sixth level, she came upon a pair of girls huddled together in the stairwell. Lying between them were playing cards and some cash. One of them smelled badly from a strong cologne. Nancy's nostrils burned a little from it. The smaller of the two had a pair of black teardrop tattoos under her eyes, the same color as her dark hair. She wore a slick black jacket and matching boots too, and the girl seemed surprisingly clean and groomed for a place like the Noir Belle. Her chubby companion, with her back to Nancy, looked like regular trash though. Nancy crept closer, keeping her right hand beside her holster.

Being first to notice the social agent, the black-teared girl narrowed her eyes to study Nancy, looking up and down her uniform. The girl's only movement was to signal to the other one with a quick look. The bigger girl cocked her fat head around to take a look. The thin mustache over her lips stretched drastically, as her mouth opened wide. "Oh shit," said the fat girl, "Oh shit, oh shit." _She's met_ a social agent _before,_ reckoned Nancy.

Desperately, the big girl grabbed the cash into her meaty hands, cursing the whole time as she did it. Once on her feet, the girl moved in a hurry, waddling down the stairs past Nancy, never slowing down, not even to collect any of the money she dropped. Nancy let that one go, she wasn't important. No, it was the clean girl, with the teardrop tattoos, that the social agent really wanted to talk to. _She doesn't belong here_ , thought Nancy, _she must know something._

"Sorry, sweetie," Nancy told the smaller one, giving the girl a professional smile. "Who was winning?"

The black-teared girl threw down her cards, and then jumped up. She stared down the social agent, before answering coldly, "I was, safety maid."

Nancy and the black-teared girl locked eyes for a moment. The social agent figured, due to the girl's small frame and young looks, she couldn't be older than fourteen, if even that. However, Nancy suspected the girl was one of the sicarii, or at least knew about them. She's too clean looking to be here, and it was really odd that the black-teared girl didn't run away, or even attempt to, when she first spotted Nancy. Regular girls don't usually standoff with a social agent, no way, they all know better. No, there was something different about this girl, Nancy was certain about that.

While staring each other down, the black-teared girl began sneaking her small fingers under her jacket, little by little. _Lovely_ , thought Nancy, _she's carrying a weapon_.

Nancy dropped the professional smile now and shook her head at the girl. "No, no," said Nancy, "don't do that." But the girl kept moving anyway.

Therefore, Nancy was forced to lunge, and she snatched the small thing by the throat and by the sneaky hand. The force of the rush shoved the young girl's back up against the wall, hard. The girl squealed and her eyes popped wide open. Nancy lifted the girl up off the floor to eye level. The social agent almost felt sorry for the girl, watching the panic grow on her face. _The poor thing's never dealt with a social agent before,_ realized Nancy, _She doesn't know what we are_.

Advantage formula made a girl stronger and faster. Social agents were required to take it, so were the military girls on active duty. The formula also caused the senses to become sharper, and more sensitive than normal, especially smell, but that was more like a side-effect than as a planned feature of the formula. Some girls couldn't handle advantage formula, though. Some even died trying. But others, like Nancy Rose, could use it without a problem. Nancy had a knack for it; she was good on the formula. Even so, she still had to admit that the heightened sense of smell that came with it did take some getting used to. Being able to tell a dead girl's time of death within an hour, just by the scent, or telling which girls were menstruating in a room, only by a whiff in the air, was definitely weird at first. Some girls never got used to it, and had to quit before losing their marbles.

"I heard a rumor," Nancy told the black-teared girl, holding her against the wall. "There's a blood party tonight."

The black-teared girl struggled, trying to speak under Nancy's grip. The social agent allowed enough air for the girl to talk. "That's crazy," the girl wheezed out.

"Oh really?" Nancy gave the girl's head a tap against the wall.

"You dumb bitch. That hurt."

Nancy knocked her head harder.

"Fucking cunt."

Nancy knocked the girl again, much harder, but the girl just yelled back, even more defiantly, "DAUGHTER. OF. A. WHORE!"

Nancy squeezed down harder on the girl's hand, making her clench down on the hidden weapon under the black jacket. Nancy then forced the short-bladed knife out from underneath, before slowly moving the blade upward and towards the girl's left eyeball. The girl's whole body began to shake.

Nancy told the girl, "We're not seeing eye to eye." The knife's tip edged closer and closer, as the young girl's pupil started to vibrate. "Now," continued Nancy, "don't let this go bad for you. Tell me everything you know, right now."

"Okay, okay, safety maid," said the girl, her expression more subdued, "There's a something, a happening, a party, whatever. I don't know. So what? Who cares?" Nancy moved the knife's tip even closer, getting within a millimeter of the eye, just as the girl's body began to shudder hard. The girl shrieked, "SEVENTH FLOOR! ALRIGHT? That's all I know! I swear to God and Holy Mary."

"You _know_ it's a Sicarii party."

"Who's sick-car-ree? Never heard of her. I swear..."

Nancy coolly stared the girl down, holding the blade dangerously close still, letting the girl think the worse for a few seconds, and then, right as the girl looked like she might have a seizure, the social agent moved the blade away. Instantly, the tension in the girl's body drained out, her eyes relaxed back to normal, and she began breathing easier.

"Please, let me go," pleaded the girl. "I'm pregnant."

Nancy sniffed at her. The girl didn't smell as if she was menstruating right now, but that wasn't really proof. And the girl looked way too thin honestly. If she was pregnant, and that was a big if, then it must be an early pregnancy. But Nancy wasn't buying it. "You're a liar," Nancy told the girl.

"No, for real, safety maid," said the girl, with the sincerest face she could muster. "I am. Please don't hurt me and the baby."

Nancy groaning, snapped the blade's tip off in the wall by the girl's head, and then told the black-teared girl, "I don't have time for this right now." Nancy's voice then became more intense. "But listen to me very carefully, and you better too. If you don't straighten up, sweetheart, you're going to end up in a bad place, maybe even a body bag. And, remember this..." Nancy pulled the girl face-to-face. "We're always watching."

The girl nodded back, her expression shaken. Nancy dropped the girl to the floor. The young girl raced away, keeping her hands in her jacket pockets, and not saying another word, she disappeared down the stairs.

In Nancy's experience, a little scare talk went a long way with most young girls; it helped them become better girls and citizens. But with that one with the teardrop tattoos, Nancy couldn't be so sure. Her gut feeling told her that the girl was headed for more trouble. _A shame_ , thought Nancy, _she's so young too_.

Approaching the seventh floor, Nancy slowed herself enough to unholster her handgun. _Always be sharp_ , she reminded herself. The armed social agent then took the stairwell door out onto the floor. Once inside, she crept down the hallway, squinting her eyes in the dim light, looking at the door numbers. She soon realized that all the numbers were a mess; some were turned upside down, others were switched, and some were just missing completely. _You're not supposed to find them so easily,_ she guessed.

From the stairwell, she had counted carefully until she came to an unmarked door. _Seven one seven. This must be it._ She inhaled deeply, pressing her ear against the door. She could smell multiple girls, and maybe a boy too, but she wasn't sure. Coming from inside the suite, she could hear a low feminine hum, very medieval-like, as if a chorus of sisters were in there. Well, _that's creepy_ , thought Nancy, _this has got to be them_.

Nancy knew that ritual singing was the last act of a blood party, right before a boy would meet his end by a Sicarii initiate's blade. The boy's body would be torn apart, if Nancy didn't stop them. _It's time to let the girls know I'm here_. The social agent rapped twice on the door, and then called out, in a playful melodic manner, " _Knock_ , _knock_."

The humming sound suddenly stopped. Now, only the shifting of footsteps and of faint whispers was heard from inside the hotel suite. Nancy got her legs into position, straightened her arms, and pointed her handgun down. _Okay._ She took a breath, and then counted down. _Three. Two. One_. Nancy then bounded at the door, shoulder first, busting all the way through. The door, itself, got ripped completely off the hinges. A girl, who must've been too close, probably to look through the peephole, got knocked onto her back, with the busted door over her legs. She seemed unconscious, and her face looked bloodied with her eyes closed shut. Nancy kept her handgun on her anyway, watching for any movement from the girl. The unconscious girl wore a sleek black dress with a thin halter top, and had a single white flower in her hair. _Oh dear_ , thought Nancy, _I bet I messed up her outfit._

"So sorry sweetie," said Nancy, stepping over the girl, gun downward. "I hope I didn't ruin your little party dress." The girl remained still. She was out cold for sure.

A second later, Nancy heard movement from behind her and turned to look. Another girl, in a pink dress, had stood up from behind a sofa chair. The girl mumbled a curse word, and then charged. Nancy swung her handgun around and fired once, hitting the girl in the lower right leg. The bullet blew a hole out the back of the girl's calf. The pink-dressed girl stumbled forward onto her face, and moaned as her brown curls spilled out onto the carpet.

"That was a warning shot," Nancy told the girl, "stay down, or else." Nancy didn't want to kill, unless she had to. She always tried her best not to. After all, it was her duty to protect all girls, even the man-killers.

She watched the pink-dressed girl on the floor for a second, before another one, with half-black and half-red hair, came at Nancy from an angle with a knife. She surprised the social agent and got close enough, to be within striking distance. The attacker jabbed away in a flurry, but could never quite strike the social agent, who danced easily out of the girl's reach. _She's too s_ _loppy_. _She m_ _ust be drunk_. The knife attack had been enough though, and Nancy had enough justification for lethal force now. She pulled back, aimed, and shot the knife-wielding girl in the forehead, blowing her brains out the back of her head. The body went limp before dropping. Screams then rose throughout the hotel suite _. Lovely,_ thought Nancy _, there's more._

Nancy watched for an attack from every direction, as best she could. The poorly lit hotel suite had plenty of shadows to hide in, so she needed to be on guard. On the carpet, the girl in the pink dress stirred. Nancy fixed her gun on the girl. "Stay down," demanded Nancy, "don't move an inch." But the girl didn't listen, she came up mean faced, with a revolver shaking in her hand. That weapon must have been hidden under her dress, or under the furniture, or somewhere else. _O_ _h well_ , thought Nancy _, too bad for her_. Nancy fired just once, perfectly, and hit the curly-headed girl in the right eye, blowing it out. Her head dropped face down again, and the revolver plunked to the floor beside her.

The next party girl came immediately after Nancy's last shot. She screamed like a maniac, charging at Nancy, with a knife in her hand. The blade looked red from blood already. The girl sliced at the social agent, and managed to get lucky. Nancy suffered a cut to her uniform jacket's elbow, but the blade didn't get through to the skin. _Damn it._ Nancy quickly retaliated, slamming her pistol's grip into the attacker's face, stunning the girl. The party girl wobbled back, moving drunkenly. She swung her knife desperately one last time into the air, before Nancy fired into her twice. The girl's body fell to the carpet with a thud. After that, there was silence throughout the hotel suite.

Nancy breathed, and then started to search around. On one dead body, the one with black and red hair, Nancy noticed a curious tattoo. A black snake coiled down the girl's left arm to bite her on the wrist. Nancy crouched down closer and lifted the girl's shirt to check underneath for more. And for sure enough, inked on the girl's chest, standing in-between her tits, was the naked whore, wearing her halo of stars. The whore was an icon of the Sicarii, and their most popular tattoo. To the right of the whore and right under the tit, was an upside-down black spade. Like the crowned whore, Nancy had seen that kind of tattoo before too, but of diamonds and hearts. Those were the personal symbols of the queens of the Sicarii. The Queen of Spades, herself, must have marked the dead girl as hers. Nancy flipped the body over, and checked the upper right shoulder. _Yup_ , thought Nancy. There were three jolly rogers tattooed. That meant the Sicarii trash had gotten three man-kills so far. The girl must have been a rising star for the Queen of Spades, before Nancy put a bullet through her head, and ended her career. Nancy only hoped the girl had been stopped before getting her fourth. _I need to find the boy_ , Nancy reminded herself.

She moved on, taking the suite's only hallway, cautiously. At the end there was a single shut door. Though the suite was still completely silent, she walked up, handgun ready and alert, just in case. She noticed the door had been left slightly ajar, so she nudged it with her boot, letting it creak slowly open.

Inside the room, shadows danced and flickered on the walls of the bedroom. Small candles had been placed on the shelves and across the carpet floor. The whole room seemed bigger than it should be for a suite bedroom, but that was probably because it was nearly empty. Only a single mattress was in the center of the room, and on top of that, a naked boy had been laid and tied down. He looked no older than sixteen guessed the social agent. His body was motionless like a corpse, but only had superficial cuts, and, appeared to have very little blood loss. The blood smelled fresh too, she could tell. Nancy slipped off one of her synthetic-leather gloves, and kneeled down to take the boy's pulse. As soon as her fingers touched his neck, the boy's eyes popped open and he gasped, "PLEASE DON'T!" Nancy let out a sigh of relief. _Thank God and Holy Mary_ , she thought, _he's alive_.

"Relax sweetie," Nancy told the boy, "I'm here to help. I'm US Social Agent Nancy Rose."

"A safety maid?"

"Sure," said Nancy. The social agent started loosening the ropes on the boy. "You know," Nancy told him, "we don't like being called safety maid."

"Oh, sorry, I--"

"It's okay," she said in a calm voice, "You can call me a banana if you like, just hang on."

With the bindings free, the boy sat up and started to check out his minor cuts. "They were nuts. One of them joked about eating me for dinner. They told me they liked me. They wanted me to party with them, they said."

"Sweetie," Nancy said, "you should know better than that. It's not safe to go anywhere with strange girls."

"Yes, miss."

Before long, the sound of boots came pounding into the suite. "Hold on," said Nancy. She handed the boy a sheet to cover himself. Through the window, Nancy saw the familiar swirl of red and blue lights. The police were here finally and late as usual. She wondered if the regular police were any better before the Great Calamity, or if it had always been that way. She lovingly stroked the boy's hair, as she told him flatly, "Hurray, it's the police." She checked over his neck and shoulders again for any wounds. "Well, the paramedics should be here too."

"Thank God and Holy Mary," he replied.

Nancy said nothing back, she only wondered to herself if the boy should be so thankful. Many church girls liked to believe that the Great Calamity was a punishment for boys, and that God had sent the super-virus for a reason. However, no girls had ever agreed on what that particular reason was. Nancy's mother had said, in fact, "It wasn't the men who were punished." When Nancy thought about the world, she tended to agree with her mother. Maybe the girls were the punished ones, and maybe the boys were the ones that got off easy. _Sure,_ thought Nancy _, that's probably right._ Nevertheless, now the boys were all back (after smart girls figured out a way to cure the super-virus), and they needed help to stay alive and safe.

A wide-hipped police officer barged into the room. She stomped around clumsily, waving her pistol around. "Whoa, safety maid," the girl exclaimed, "save some for us." Then she gave out a big fat laugh. Nancy could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"Next time, officer," said Nancy with a forced smile. Nancy left the boy with police.

After the night sky cleared up, and the air felt much cooler, the city smelled normal again, decaying again. The moon could be seen too, waxing above the city skyline. A full moon should be here in a few days dreaded the social agent. _Always bad luck,_ she believed, _always_.

Nancy had wanted to go straight home and go to sleep, but she knew she couldn't yet, the Department of Safety mandated a violence evaluation for social agents after every altercation involving violence. She'd had at least a dozen of those so far this year. The sister-doctors hadn't found a scratch yet. Director Lilac, for sure, was strict about them. A social agent that missed one got suspended, usually just for a few days. But if the director believed the girl had missed it on purpose, Lilac would take that girl's gun and badge away for a long while, maybe even a year, or worse. There were no good excuses for missing an evaluation with Director Lilac, the rules always came first with the old girl.

Sister-doctor Meadows was already waiting for Nancy, when the social agent arrived at St. Mary's Federal Hospital later that night. Meadows dealt exclusively with social agents and military girls. She, plus three other sister-doctors, in the city were the only ones legally allowed to administer advantage formula. Meadows tended to work the night shift a lot, so Nancy knew the old sister fairly well.

Nancy had already stripped down to her underwear, and had planted herself in the evaluation chair, when the sister-doctor came in. Nancy's bare toes hovered inches above the uncomfortably cold hard tiles. To tell the truth, thought Nancy, the room, including the entire hospital, had a serious chill to it. The sisters could turn the temperature up some, for sure. But they seemed to be determined to treat the hospital like a damn morgue. _I suppose it is a morgue too_ , thought Nancy. Meadows turned her attention to Nancy.

"Any injuries to declare, Social Agent Rose?" The white-haired sister-doctor asked.

"No, sister."

Snapping on tight latex gloves, Sister-doctor Meadows approached the evaluation chair. "Lie back please," requested the sister. The chair shifted back automatically when Nancy leaned back. "Thank you, dear."

The sister-doctor, then, began lifting and bending, all the fingers and toes, the arms and the legs, and any part of Nancy that the sister could move. "Good, now turn over. Thank you dear." Meadows was taking it easy on Nancy tonight, the social agent could tell. The sister might have insisted on a more invasive evaluation, as was her right as a sister-doctor, but the old girl wasn't. Truly, just the thought of those cool metal probes, the ones the sisters liked to use, made the social agent shiver a little bit. Nancy had heard rumors that the daytime sister-doctors kept their probes in an ice bucket, just to be cruel. _But girls tell stories too_ , knew Nancy.

"Very good," said Meadows, as she made the chair shift back up. Then the sister-doctor picked up her screen-portable, and began writing. "Now," said Meadows, "I went ahead and had your weapon scanned. Exactly four shots fired, and no magazine reloads since yesterday. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sister."

"Do you have your tech-phone with you? We'll need to scan the memory."

"The phone was in my coat pocket."

"Oh, we didn't find a phone, social agent."

Stunned, Nancy took a second to think. _Oh, no._ Nancy realized what had happened _. Black tears_. The little sneaky one with the black tear tattoos must have nipped her tech-phone when Nancy had the girl pushed against the wall. She was the only one that could've done it, and Nancy let her run right out with it. All her contacts, personal information, everything, was on the phone. _Damn it_. This was the second one she had lost this year too. The director would not be happy, and Nancy had to go to a debriefing with the old girl in the morning too.

"I must have misplaced it," explained Nancy.

"I see. You're clearly tired dear. You should get some rest. If you would like social agent, you can rest here, and someone can wake you in the morning, so you don't need to drive all the way home."

"Sure, sister. That sounds lovely."

A minute later, Meadows returned to the room with a thick blanket and pillow. The old girl spread the blanket over Nancy's body, tucking her in motherly like, and then cushioned Nancy's head gently with the pillow. The sisters had always liked to treat their patients as if they were children. Nancy had gotten used to it, and didn't bother to complain anymore. It was just in a sister's nature to do that after all, the nice ones anyway. Before the old sister left, Meadows paused and held the door open, and then said, "Today was a good day."

Nancy answered back, "Tomorrow will be better."

The sister-doctor then clicked the lights off and let the door close softly. _Today was a good day_. _Tomorrow will be better_. Those were the words that every social agent said before she went to sleep. _It's what we tell ourselves anyway._ _It's our motto_. Nancy closed her eyes.

Captain's Desk

She woke up to a song.

_Hey, don't you cry. It's love... and it's true_...

_Hey, don't you deny. It's love... not déjà vu_...

Opening her eyes, Nancy grumbled. The music must have been turned on purposely in her hospital room to wake her, for sure. The light had been switched on as well noticed Nancy. She yawned, taking in the first big first breath of the day. There was a scent of coffee, some blood, and of ammonia in the air. _Yup_ , reckoned Nancy, _it definitely smells like_ morning _at a hospital_.

She dropped off the evaluation chair onto the cold floor with her bare feet, clinging to the blanket that she had slept in. It was still chilly in the evaluation room. She skipped on her bare toes to the door, opened it slightly, and peeked out through a crack. Outside the door, her uniform had been hung, looking dry brushed and ironed too. _What a_ sweetheart. Sister-doctor Meadows must've had it cleaned for Nancy while she slept, and Nancy hadn't even asked the sister to do that. Nancy grabbed her clothes and pulled them into the room.

The song playing overhead was one that Nancy knew fairly well. Her mother had liked to hum the chorus, whenever the old girl had cleaned the dishes, or had to do any kind of boring housework like that. _It's love... not déjà vu_... The Prairie Sisters, who had written and sang the song, were really popular when Nancy was a little girl, and she, as a little girl, used to love that song. Now though, it just made her sad to hear it, because it reminded her of her mother.

The music suddenly ended when a staticky voice interrupted the sound system. "Good morning, sisters, sister-doctors, and guests. This is just a friendly reminder that Mother Most Superior will be here on Sunday in the city at the Magnolia Plaza. All the faithful are invited to attend, of course. The sisters from St. Mary's will be treated as honored guests of her magnificence..."

Nancy hurried to take a shower and put on her uniform. Lately, she had been hearing a lot about Mother Most Superior's visit to the city. The talking heads on the tele-screen had been pushing the story non-stop, as if it was a good thing. The last time Mother Most Superior came, riots had almost erupted throughout the city. The good Mother, in her own wisdom, had told the poor girls during her speech, that certain girls had more money than other girls, and, that perhaps, those rich girls should share more with the poorer ones. The poor girls, of course, had taken this as an invitation to protest, and so they did. Downtown got locked up for most of the night, and the social agents and the police had their hands full the whole time.

At the last moment, just when things were getting their most tense, right before the doors to the city might have come crashing down, Mother Most Superior decided to soothe the poor girls over. With just a few words, the old mother had stopped the protests, and then everything went back to normal again. Nancy recalled what Director Lilac had said back then, "The old church girl was just testing us, for some reason." Apparently the mother hadn't felt welcomed enough by the politicians and the richer girls of the city. So the old girl decided to give them a little bit of hell because of it. Now, for the upcoming visit, the old sister would be treated first-class all the way, full media coverage, the works, including a stay at the ritziest place in the city (Magnolia Tower), plus anything else the old sister wanted. Nancy doubted there would be any protests this time.

Nancy grabbed the last of her gear (her tech-watch, standard-issue flashlight, and nine-point-nine handgun), and then began securing them onto her uniform. She got reminded again while dressing that her tech-phone had been lost last night, most certainly stolen by the girl with those black teardrop tattoos. _Lovely._ Lilac would have something to say about that later, for sure. Nancy would regret having lost it. She holstered her gun on her right hip, pulled the flap of her uniform jacket over it, and then marched out of the room.

Through the hospital lobby, Nancy made sure to thank each sister she happened to pass by. The social agent had learned from experience that being polite went a long way with them. Most of the sisters only replied, pleasantly enough, "Bless you daughter," or simply nodded courteously. It was always important to maintain a friendly relationship with the sisters and the sister-doctors, since social agents had to count on them for support, and most importantly, for their advantage formula.

Nancy walked out the hospital's main auto-doors, and into the morning air. She yawned again, breathing in the city's scent, and held it in for a second. Her face soon soured. She had already gotten used to the regular filth and the decay of the city (the garbage, the sewage, the gasoline, and all the human flesh), but today there was something new, off-putting. A hint of an unusual odor, something abrasive and weird, was in the air today. _Interesting_ , she thought.

Nancy couldn't place the smell yet, it was so faint, but she suspected that it meant a big weather change was coming, perhaps a bad lightning storm, or something even worse. She couldn't be sure though, and it could be nothing at all, she admitted to herself. Director Lilac had told her girls they were more superstitious than they ought to be. In fact, Lilac had told Nancy directly once, that advantage formula definitely could not give a girl the ability to smell weather changes, much less predict them. "It's all in your head," Lilac had said to Nancy. "You're imagining things." Yet Nancy wasn't so sure about that. The smells seemed all too real to her. _Something is strange in the air_ , believed Nancy, she just wasn't sure exactly what yet.

The early morning sky was scattered clouds over a muted red color. The sun rose slowly, as Nancy drove through the city towards the US Social Agent Building, a few minutes before eight o' clock. Magnolia Tower, the city's tallest skyscraper (being one hundred, thirty-seven stories tall) loomed over the entire city. It had been sixteen years ago, that Miss Lucy M. Magnolia, had built a tower of mirrored glass from her own personal wealth, and then added her own name on it. Magnolia had said that she was the richest, the most successful, and the smartest girl in America, and with her tower, she wanted everyone else to believe that too. Magnolia Tower was her symbol of triumph, and frankly, no girl ever contested that either. She owned about everything, from jewelry companies to television stations, and she had for more than two decades now. It was not a secret either that she owned some of the politicians in the capital too. _It must be boring being that rich_ , thought Nancy, _and_ _bored rich girls tend to get in a lot of trouble, more than they should._ Nancy thought about the black-teared girl with her expensive cologne and slick black jacket _._

Right across the street from Magnolia Tower was the US Social Agent Building, sitting right under the tower's imposing shadow. In the morning, when the time was right, the rising sun would set the tower's mirrored windows on fire, and then, off the reflection, the Social Agent Building got bathed in a blood-red hue. At eight minutes past eight, when Nancy arrived at the Social Agent Building, the entirety of the building's facade still had a nice red shade covering it.

Leaving her car, Nancy checked her uniform one last time, making sure to smooth over any noticeable wrinkles, and to get her cap perfectly straight. Director Lilac would be expecting her this morning, and Nancy didn't want to look anything but her best for the old girl. The director demanded nothing less from her girls.

The large glass doors of the Social Agent Building pulled apart when Nancy came near them. A doorboy stood beside the doors, doing nothing of course, because the doors were automatic. His job was basically pointless. Yet somehow, the boy got a job working at a federal building. Nancy guessed that an important girl in the capital must have liked the boy for some reason, and had gotten him a job working for the government, probably his mother.

As Nancy walked by the boy, she winked at him. The boy blushed a bit, like he always did around the girls, but he stood there rigidly and greeted Nancy, like he did every time a social agent passed by him, "Good morning, Social Agent."

The girls there thought it was amusing to tease the boy. He was the only boy around, so he got some attention. They would mess relentlessly with him, as much as they could get away with, in order to make him feel uncomfortable. It was just a bit of fun, and for sure, no real harm was ever done believed Nancy. Some girls pinched him, others tickled him, and some even shared their dirty thoughts with him. The poor boy had to endure it all every day. To the boy's credit though, he showed up, dressed up with a fresh flower on his lapel, and on time. He always had a polite attitude for the girls too. Social Agent Caroline Lily had become his ride to and from work, since he couldn't drive himself legally. That arrangement however, unfortunately had the girls whispering about them, as girls liked to do, but Nancy knew there was nothing to it. Lily was just being nice. Lily was always nice.

Inside the lobby, Athena stood over the cowering serpent, as she did every day with her spear back and ready to strike, atop her fountain. Though her statue was made of concrete, just like the giant snake and the rest of the structure, Athena held a spear made of real steel. The spear's head was "always sharp." That's what all the social agents heard on orientation day. _Always be ready_. _Always be sharp_. Just like Athena's spear was.

Nancy remembered her first day in front of Athena's Fountain, when she and the other new social agents had stood in their fresh uniforms wearing their cap badges for the first time. The previous Director, Karen Thistle, had been there too, and she had, after peering over the girls standing at attention for a moment, pointed up to Athena's spear and asked them, "What must we be?" The girls had all chanted back, "always sharp, director," as perky as the girls could've mustered. Then, Nancy remembered, the director had gestured to the fountain water with a sober look on her face.

A social agent's cap badge was a half circle made of re-enforced brass. A spear, resembling Athena's, thrust upwards through the center of it. The only words inscribed, besides the social agent's own name, were "safety" on the left of the spear, and "truth" on the right.

Nancy stirred the fountain water with a finger as she strolled by, and eyed the many badges sunk within. As Thistle had explained, pointing down into the water, when a social agent died her badge went into the fountain. "This is where we rest," the director had told the new agents, "when we are done." Not all agents had been that lucky though, some had died without their badge getting recovered. One hundred and seventy-two badges had been confirmed permanently lost to this day. Losing their badge was one of the many worries for a social agent.

Most badges in the fountain had become a shade of green from resting in the water for so long. The oldest ones had turned to black. Thistle had said there were seven hundred, eighty-three in there. Nancy had never counted to make sure, but she took the old director's word for it. A month after Nancy's orientation, Director Thistle was found dead in her bathtub with a bullet through her head. Nancy was there when the newly appointed Director Lilac had placed Thistle's cap badge in the fountain.

One day, Nancy imagined, her own badge would be thrown in there too, sunk down into the cold water, and then turn green, then to black, just as a corpse did when it decomposed. _It happens to every girl_ , thought Nancy, _just like Karen Thistle, and just like my mother._ Nancy walked past solemnly, leaving Athena's fountain behind her.

Across the lobby, she spotted a familiar face, one that she didn't want to see. _Oh no, not_ her _today._ A black-haired social agent named Jean Paris Foxglove was leaning against a wall, with her left hip up and cocky, looking like she owned the whole place, or, would one day. The girl's copper-brown eyes rolled around lazily, as she talked to other social agents in front of her. When Foxglove glimpsed Nancy in the lobby, the black-haired girl's eyes came suddenly to a stop, and the girl, herself, smugly smirked at Nancy in acknowledgment. _L_ _ovely_ , Nancy thought _, I'm back in the schoolyard again_ _today._

A fan club of junior social agents surrounded the black-haired girl, taking in each word from her, and erupting into giggles on cue. Not that Foxglove was actually funny, or that anyone actually liked her for that matter. Nope, the girls were only hangers-on waiting to see if Foxglove would become the director one day, which was exactly what the black-haired social agent had been telling them would happen eventually.

Among them, Nancy recognized Social Agent Clover, a decent social agent for sure. She dressed in her regular forest-green gloves and boots. Next to Clover, was the petite Jasper (a virgin still) wearing her muddy-red synthetic-leather. The other two there, Nancy hadn't met before, but by their apparent age, she guessed they must be fresh recruits right out of Social Agent Academy.

Foxglove's big claim to fame had been taking down Heather Camellia, nicknamed Heather the Heart-Eater by the press, a serial killer from Maine. Old Heather, once, had been a popular weather girl for many years, working for a local news channel owned by Magnolia Incorporated. Heather's tagline had famously been 'Heather knows the weather.' Then one day, the girl got replaced by another girl, much younger than herself, and she was forced into retirement. The old girl had taken it badly too, and lost all her marbles for good.

Years later, up in Maine, Heather had started luring young girls into the woods to her cabin. There, she would kill them, then eat them, and drink their blood. For some crazy reason, the girl had gotten the idea it would make her younger.

By the time Foxglove had finally tracked the killer down, Heather had already killed twenty-three girls and eaten supposedly twenty-three hearts. Unfortunately for the old girl, the black-haired social agent wasn't simply going to just arrest her and turn her in. No, Foxglove had decided to turn a confession from Heather right then and there, and, Foxglove had wanted to do it in the hardest way possible. That was Foxglove's style, if a girl could call it a style, unchecked stupid brutality. Now, the former-weather girl rolled around in the state penitentiary in a wheelchair, and could only eat through a straw, permanently. Foxglove, naturally, believed herself to be some kind of hero.

Nancy wanted to just walk by Foxglove, totally ignore her and her fan club, and go straight to the director's office. But, the black-haired girl stepped right in Nancy's way, and on purpose too. Her footsteps were so gentle, her black boots made no sound. "Nancy Rose," announced Foxglove loudly, looking Nancy up and down. Nancy responded sharply back with only, "Foxglove."

"How's your poison pushing buddy doing these days?"

"She's not my _buddy_."

"Really? You haven't arrested her yet. So, I just figured you were."

Nancy glared back, "You know she's my informant."

" _Oh_ , let me guess, you're gonna catch a bigger fish with the little fish. Yeah sure, the director buys that shit, but let me tell you what I think. What we _all_ think. You fell in love with that sweet tasting sushi of hers..." The fan club all giggled, of course. "--and believe me, the girl's been playing you the whole damn time. That slant-eyed rat isn't trustworthy. She's a criminal, always has been a criminal, and always will be. It's her natural state in the world. She's gonna screw you over, trust me."

"Thanks. Done?"

"No, let me tell you what I would do to her if I caught her. I'd break a finger for every life she's hurt, and when I ran out of fingers, I'd go to toes. And when I ran out of toes, well, I'd start breaking everything until there was nothing left to break."

"Right," said Nancy, not amused. "Everybody knows you're a psychopath, including old Heather. So, you don't have to remind me."

"Huh," Foxglove responded back, "that's funny, coming from our own lil' Calamity Jane. How many girls have you killed this month? A dozen? Twenty? A hundred? Who knows right? I bet you lost count too. But, all in the line of duty, sure. You're such a sweetheart too, when you put a bullet into them."

Nancy groaned, and then responded coolly, "Don't worry about me, Foxglove. Worry about yourself. Okay?"

The black-haired girl stepped in closer, getting within a breath from Nancy. "I know you think you're better than me, Rose. Your mother was a famous hero, kinda. And I bet, you think you deserve all the good press you get in the news." The girl's black-gloved fingers tip-toed up Nancy's uniform. "But I heard an interesting rumor about you. One I bet, you won't want the director finding out about. _You_ have a lover holed up somewhere, _a_ _man_." Then she whispered into Nancy's ear, "that's illegal, sister."

Nancy snatched Foxglove's hand, squeezing it hard. A flop of dark hair fell between Foxglove's copper-brown eyes, as the girl smirked again, and said, "A little sensitive, aren't we?"

_The girls have been telling stories again,_ figured Nancy. She stared back furiously at Foxglove, holding tight onto the girl's black-gloved hand. _I really didn't want this today_. _But if she wants to fight I..._

"God and Holy Mary," a booming voice interrupted, "you two going to kiss?"

Nancy released Foxglove's hand and looked up at the upper level of the lobby. There, Director Sam Lilac stood, holding onto the railing, and glared down at both of them.

"Knock it off," said Lilac in a harsh tone. "The taxpayers aren't paying you two to play with each other. Foxglove, get busy doing something. Rose, in my office, _now_."

"Yes ma'am," said both.

Foxglove strutted away, defiantly, in her black synthetic-leather boots. "Have fun in there, honey," said the black-haired girl, deliberately in a mischievous manner, before turning a corner and slipping out of sight. Her fan club dispersed immediately too, leaving the lobby area just as Foxglove left.

In the director's office, the great old oak desk was still there, with its signature, but much unintended, decoration of bullet holes. Captain Rebecca Marigold, the first director of the U.S. Social Agents, and the first to die as one as well, had owned that very desk and chair. Old Marigold had been a real stubborn girl, so girls had said. She wouldn't retire, not even when the Lady General of the Department of Safety had ordered her to. But unfortunately for Marigold, a scorned ex-lover had shown up at the office one day, armed with a gun that she had gotten from Marigold herself, as a gift for personal protection. Supposedly, the x-lover had been filled with rage about her long past rejection.

The angry girl opened fire without warning, not even letting the director speak a word. The entire magazine had been pumped into the old director and into her oak desk. They said it took at least eleven bullets to the body before Marigold fell over and finally died. Marigold had been that tough according to the storytellers. Maybe that was right, thought Nancy, or maybe, the shooter had been just a really bad shot. Allegedly, the bullet that finally got the old girl had been the one to the heart. Ever since that day, the old oak desk of Marigold's had been passed on to every new director. Now Samantha Lilac sat behind it.

"Sit," said the director. Nancy sat.

Lilac had a very mannish look for a girl, board shouldered and stocky, and squared chin. She talked low on purpose it seemed too, and her face had a real weathered look to it, like a war veteran might look. She lit up a fresh cigarette and began smoking it casually in front of Nancy. Soon, the air in the room filled with the overbearing stink of smoke and mint. Nancy shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and turned away futilely to avoid the smell in her chair.

"Oh, that's right," spoke the director, "I forgot, you don't like cigarette smoke. Well, too bad. Every time I try to quit, something fucked up happens, and then I have to start up again. If I quit smoking, shit, I'd end up throwing myself down the stairs, or worse, retiring. Ha. You, Foxglove, Dandelion, and everyone else waiting, can just keep dreaming that dream." Lilac took a deep penetrating drag, curled her lips, and exhaled. She sighed enjoyably after that. The mint smoke wasn't too bad, decided Nancy, at least, it wasn't a cigar.

"It's fine, director."

"One scared boy, three dead girls, and one arrested last night. What happened?"

"I went after man-killers, director. Things got hot."

"Right. Well, the boy's mother was happy at least."

"Yes, director."

"We checked the gun we found in the hotel room. It was pre-registration. Tracking it went nowhere as we expected. The police are holding the only suspect, but she isn't talking, so far. But, and this is what really got to me, you let a lowlife negligent steal your tech-phone. The Department of Safety tracked its history, once we found out. Unfortunately, someone with a brain finally got to the girl, and must've explained to her that all fed phones were tracked constantly." Lilac sniffed, and tapped her cigarette on an ashtray.

"And..."

"And, then the signal went dead somewhere in the condemned sector. The phone probably destroyed. We'll have another one issued to you by the end of the day. Your second one this year, I might add."

"Yes, director."

"Normally, after a shooting like this, I would have to take your gun for a day or two. But, since it was man-killers that were killed, none of the usual suits in the capital are giving a crap. So you're fine, for now."

Nancy felt mildly relieved.

Then unexpectedly, the office door swung open, and in barged a short-skirted, curly-headed redhead, carrying a mug of coffee. The redhead had a face like a doll, soft-looking, heart-shaped, and an easy smile to go with it. Lilac halfway grinned at the red-headed girl. "Lily, did you have to grind all the beans yourself?"

The girl pouted with her red lips, glossy and wet, and said, "Hey, I had to make a fresh..."

Lilac chuckled, "I'm kidding, Lily. It's fine. Just give me the coffee."

"Oh, okay." Caroline Lily went to the desk, and carefully placed the mug of coffee down within Lilac's reach. As the redhead bent over, her low-cut top squeezed her cleavage together more, and her skirt revealed more of her milky-white thighs, but not too much, the outfit seemed to be perfectly fitted for the girl's full-figured body. The redheaded girl smiled innocently and played unaware of what she and her skirt were doing. When the girl walked away, Lilac slapped the girl on her ass.

"Hey there, buster," the redhead yipped out, "watch yourself please."

"Oh c'mon," said Lilac, "I was just playing." She took a drag off her cigarette.

The redhead huffed, and put her hands on her hips, acting upset. At a first glance, a girl wouldn't think that Caroline Lily was a social agent. Nancy still had a hard time believing it. Lily dressed and behaved more like a hostess for a restaurant, or something like that, and not like a federal police officer. The last time Nancy had seen Lily wearing her uniform was on their orientation day, years ago. The girl hadn't worn it since as far as Nancy knew.

Lily told Lilac, " _Be nice_ , director."

"Alright, I'll try. Now, get out of here, we're talking."

Lily shuffled off in her high heels and her nearly-too-tight skirt. At the doorway, she threw back a cute look with her innocent smile, before shutting the door.

"Not quite regulation dress," said Nancy.

"No, but there's no real need for her to dress in uniform while at the office. Ha. I think she looks better that way, anyway. The girl's a terrible field agent, besides. It's safer to keep her here with me."

"Making coffee?"

"Making shit coffee." Lilac sipped from the mug, grimacing. "It's getting a little better every day. Anyway, it's what the girl's good for."

_Oh, that's what she's good for_? Nancy just smiled at that.

"Tattooed man-killers have been popping up more in the city lately. One was found dead from a drug overdose a week ago. Another one was arrested for vandalism a day later. And just last weekend, a cop nailed one in a shootout. _You_ bagged four last night. But yours were the only ones with spades though. The rest were diamonds and hearts."

"The queens are here in the city."

"No clubs have been found yet."

"There's never been clubs. It's not the Queen of Clubs' style."

"Maybe, or maybe there's only three queens, or two, or one. Or maybe, there are none at all, and it's all just a joke made up by the Sicarii to spook the police and us. The whole thing's a dead end in my opinion anyway. So forget about it."

"Social Agent Jasmine met the Queen of Spades."

Lilac took a second, and then started to talk slower and more carefully. "Jasmine saw something, heard something, or just walked into something she shouldn't have. We don't know what happened. But she is definitely dead now. Or have you forgotten that?"

Nancy remembered the morning Jasmine was found. Her skin had become doughy and wet after a night lying naked in an alleyway. An ace of spades had been glued to her forehead, with a bullet hole through it that went through her skull. Thinking of the girl's dead grey-blue eyes, still open, and in shock, had always haunted Nancy. _Jasmine wasn't expecting to die_ , thought Nancy.

Jasmine's mother, a devout church girl, had barely made it through the girl's funeral. She had fallen to the floor, repeatedly, wailing as upset mothers could sometimes. Lilac had lifted the old girl off the floor, kissed her on the head, and promised by God and Holy Mary that the social agents would find her daughter's killer. That had been a lie of course, because no one ever arrested a queen, ever. Only the pawns were ever caught.

"Every girl remembers," answered Nancy.

"Good, because I don't want you worried about the so-called queens. Taking down man-killers is one thing, but chasing queens leads to an alley, naked and dead."

"We shouldn't go after them?"

"Listen, I had this same talk with Jasmine a year ago. She didn't listen."

Lilac's cigarette had burnt half way down already. The old girl had been building on a small gray hill beside her by flicking into an ashtray for who knows how long. There were at least a couple dozen bent filters buried in the ash too. _Lilac's stressed about something_ , Nancy could tell.

"I had sub-director Dandelion personally investigate a connection with the Sicarii and Jasmine's death. She came up with nothing. She's one of our best." Lilac's face looked bothered for a brief second, before she continued, "Anyway, I'd like you to work on anti-narcotics in the city still. And focus on that. Let me worry about the queens. It's what I'm here to do. And that's an order too."

"So no follow up at all? If the queens are really in the city, this could be our chance to arrest them."

Lilac stubbed her cigarette into her ash mound. "Darling, there's a reason we never find them. Have you ever thought hard about that?"

Nancy looked at Lilac. She was a much older girl, approaching fifty now, and she had always been serious about the safety of her girls. Nancy saw something in Lilac's eyes, muted and aged as they were, that convinced her to drop it. "Yes ma'am," said Nancy, "I understand."

Later, Nancy walked to her personal office in the Social Agent Building. The stink from the mint smoke still clung to her uniform, bothering her. She had tried to wipe it off after leaving the director's office, but of course, that hadn't worked. For sure, odors couldn't be removed that way, but she had to try, the smell irritated her sensitive nose, badly.

Lilac's words ran through Nancy's head as she walked. _There's a reason we never find them_. Yes, that was true, it had been many years and no one had ever found one. But Jasmine found something, or she wouldn't have been killed, for sure. Someone put that ace of spades on her forehead, and put a bullet through her brain, for a reason. Nancy believed that Jasmine's murder had been a deliberate warning to all the social agents. _Stay away or die_. That had to be why Lilac didn't want Nancy going after the queens, the old director just wanted to keep her girls safe from harm. _But we're social agents, not_ schoolgirls, thought Nancy, _we're supposed to_ keep _others safe, not ourselves. It's our duty._

She opened the door at number thirty-two, thirty-two out of two-hundred seventy-five doors. She'd heard there were sixty-four agent offices in the west coast building, which was the second biggest social agent site in America. Inside, Nancy's office was small, clean, and workable, but not much use to her. Every social agent in the field had one, federal policy. But she rarely used hers.

On the wall, the standard issue framed picture still hung; the western landscape one, with the cowgirl riding at dusk. _Lovely, but boring_. The girls usually took that picture down and put up one of their own. Nancy had never been in her office enough to care though. On her desk was the only personal decoration she had ever brought, a framed picture of an astronaut spacewalking in front of the big blue earth. She liked to think of her mother whenever she stared at it and pretend the girl in the space suit was her mother. _Mother loved rockets,_ thought Nancy.

A stack of papers sat on the edge of her desk, and they had always been there it seemed, growing taller and taller every month. She was supposed to read some, and sign some, or just ignore some. She didn't know for sure which, and she really hated dealing with it, so she just ignored them all. A shiny new tech-phone had already been placed on her desk, with a little note saying, "Be careful," signed by Lily, with a little annoying heart above the 'i' in her name. Of course, that girl signed her name that way. For sure, Lily was a nice girl, better company than most girls there matter of fact, but she was just a little too girly for her own good. Nancy picked up the phone and switched it on.

A robotic male voice soon came through. "New password required, ma'am."

She answered, "Jane," her mother's name.

"Word compromised, please choose another one, ma' am."

"Spade."

"Thank you." The screen turned black, then to blue, then to the main interface.

"Welcome Distinguished US Social Agent Nancy Rose."

"Thank you, sir."

She checked her contacts, one by one. They had all been pre-installed. That was a relief to her because she always hated dealing with the tedious matters like that. _Such a waste of time._ Done with the phone, she pushed all the paperwork into the trash, pulled out her keyboard, and turned on her computer. Nancy wanted to see what Jasmine had been looking at before the girl went missing. She pulled up the girl's logs.

For a whole month or so, the girl had been viewing a list of old city construction contracts, mostly for the condemned sector. No descriptions were given for what the jobs might have entailed, or who had ordered them, but every single one of them had been canceled before completion. The contracts had all been awarded to the same contractor named Eleanor M. Lace. A quick search of that name brought up nothing in the national database, meaning it was most likely a fictitious name.

As Jasmine approached the day that she would die, her research got a little more interesting. There was a strange, but curious, single federal subcontracting bid by Diamond Sisters Upholstery (a real company) for a classified and unnamed military site in the Rocky Mountains, but there was no more detailed information about it except for a single name, Annie Crown. That girl appeared to have been the accounting clerk for the upholstery company at the same time and made the bid under her own name. The girl's profile showed up in the database too, but it was a limited one, since she had no criminal record. Today, Miss Crown worked in Louisiana as a financial consultant according to her federal profile. _Not a lot to go on_ , thought Nancy, _but it could lead to something eventually._

Looking even deeper, Nancy found that Jasmine had even peeked into a surveillance dossier on Mary Sapphire, the famous pop singer. There wasn't really anything of interest in there, so maybe Jasmine was just a fan. However, the social agent had left a note in Sapphire's federal profile, "This profile is still incomplete, needs to be updated immediately\-- US Social Agent Renee Jasmine." _Interesting, maybe_ , thought Nancy.

The other things that Jasmine had been interested in were various newspaper and magazine articles that were all written before the Great Calamity. There wasn't really enough for Nancy to make any connections about what she saw, but Jasmine must have been researching them for some reason, believed Nancy.

The very last record that the girl had accessed before her death was an obscure street rag called 'Snake in the Tree.' The main article had been prophetically titled, "A Future Without Men." Funny stuff that girls had written back then before they knew better. The girl writer had even thought the world would be a utopia; a place without war, all diseases cured, and every girl would be equal, happy, singing and dancing every day in the sunshine. _Yeah right_ , thought Nancy, _we live in_ _a god damn paradise for sure_.

The future actually turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, without men, depending on which girl you asked. The truth, the real truth, was that when the men died, half the world got emptied out, and got replaced with broken hearts. The world had never been right since then, for sure.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Someone was at Nancy's office door. _Lily_. It had to be her. The redhead always brought more paper forms whenever Nancy was in her office, every single time. So Nancy decided to ignore the knock. There was no sense in adding more trash to the heap right now. The door knock came again, and much louder. Nancy ignored that one too and continued on reading. A second later, the door knocker tried again, getting even louder. _She's just gonna keep knocking,_ realized Nancy. So reluctantly, Nancy finally responded, in a droning and annoyed tone, "Yes, Lily."

A tiny voice, barely audible through the door, answered, "Oh, Nancy, you're here. Sorry, I needed to tell you something. There's a girl here to see you in the lobby."

Surprised at that, Nancy asked back, a little more eagerly, "What?"

"The girl said that she knew you, and, she needed to talk to you about something serious."

"If she has a complaint just have her write it up and give it to the front desk."

"Yes, well, Nancy, she doesn't have a complaint really. She just really wanted to talk to you. She said you knew her, and that you were like friends."

"Does she have a name?"

"Sorry, I forgot to ask. But she has these black teardrop tattoos under her eyes."

Without needing to hear another word, Nancy got up and swung open the door. Redheaded Lily stood there in the hallway, of course, with an armful of papers cradled underneath her arm. The girl gave Nancy a big welcoming smile. "Oh, hi Nancy. I also have some forms here that--"

"Thank you, Lily, very much." Nancy interrupted the girl on purpose, and then marched right past her. The redhead nearly lost all her papers, when she was forced to step suddenly aside to let Nancy pass. "Oh, okay," she said sweetly, "I'll just put them on your desk for you. Well, bye bye, I guess." Nancy walked away, not bothering to say a goodbye back.

A moment later, at the railing above the lobby, Nancy looked down. Sitting on the edge of Athena's fountain, and right under the head of the monstrous snake, a young brunette girl wore a black jacket and black boots. The girl dipped her fingers into the water, testing it for a second, before plunging her hand down. When she came up, her arm dripping wet, she had one of the cap badges from the fountain, a newer one, not yet turned green. She studied over it curiously, turning it over in her hand. The brunette girl seemed oddly fascinated by it.

Nancy decided that was enough, and whistled hard, the sound echoing throughout the entire lobby. The brunette girl immediately looked up, and revealed with certainty, those black teardrop tattoos under her eyes. A subtle smirk crept on the girl's face, when she spotted Nancy up at the rails. The black-teared girl then, now suddenly indifferent to it, dropped the social agent badge back into the water.

Black Tears

Her name was Natalie Narcissus, or so she said.

Nothing on her had turned up in the national database, and the international search was still ongoing at ten after eleven. Only an upper-level suit in the capital, or a very rich girl, could have had their child's profile wiped clean. Frustratingly, Nancy had to admit that she knew nothing about the black-teared girl at the moment, but the girl, herself, sure knew about Nancy. The young girl had already asked if it was true that Nancy "only missed once in a full moon." That specific phrase came from an article written by an Idaho reporter about Nancy's takedown of the Maple twin bandits, years ago. The news girls tended to get fanciful when reporting about social agents in the field, sometimes bad, sometimes good. So, little Miss Narcissus there had been doing some homework obviously, and deliberately, for some reason about Nancy. The social agent smelled a setup of some kind coming.

Nancy had taken the girl to a café, away from the prying eyes and ears at the Social Agent Building, in order to interview her more properly. The black-teared girl's small body, no more than one hundred pounds, sank low into her chair across the table. She twiddled her finely manicured fingers, chewed gum with her noticeably white straight teeth, and rambled on about many petty issues, but mostly about her so-called "mom."

Whenever Nancy tried to ask a direct question about her mom, or anything else really, the young girl would just step over Nancy's words to talk more. That was typical behavior for girls her age, especially rich ones, as the girl seemed to be. Nancy learned from work that the rich girls had little respect for the police, or for social agents. They tended to treat them as nuisances at best. The girl's family must have some money, for sure, figured Nancy. At least that was one thing she could tell about the unknown girl.

"Natalie," Nancy slipped a word in when the girl took a breath. "Why don't you have a federal profile?"

"I'm adopted."

"Nope, that doesn't matter. Adopted girls still have a--"

"My mom found me alive," Natalie interrupted and said, "When I was a baby in the condemned sector. My real mom got killed when it was blown up." Natalie chewed her gum.

"Sorry to hear that, sweetie. Now, who's your _adoptive_ mother?"

"I'm afraid of her. She's so controlling. So bossy..."

"Hi," a waitress eased up to the table with a polite smile. "Sorry to interrupt, can I get you girls something to drink?" Natalie had lost her train of thought and had gone quiet.

"Just coffee," said Nancy, and looked to the girl.

"That's really boring. I want a beer," said Natalie, smugly, watching for Nancy's reaction.

"No." Nancy's voice became sterner. "Order correctly."

"Oh, sorry, a beer _please_ , ma'am."

"No beer, no alcohol of any kind," said Nancy. "How about some tea?"

"I want a damn beer, safety maid. _A beer_."

_Hmmm_ , thought Nancy, _she's trying me on purpose._ "A root beer," Nancy told the waitress. The waitress nodded and walked away. Natalie huffed and looked away, and then caught a glimpse of herself in the window glass. She immediately began fixing her hair.

Nancy continued, "Tell me about your mom. I need to know more about her if I'm going to help you."

"You know why I got my teardrops?" Natalie asked still gazing at herself in the window.

"No, tell me."

"Each one is a lost baby."

"You've been pregnant before?"

"Twice. They're both gone to heaven now. My mom wanted it that way."

"She killed them?"

"Both boys." The girl began examining her blue coated fingernails, keeping her face turned away from Nancy. "They were no good she said. She had me take them out. I got the tattoos to remember them forever."

Nancy peeked at the girl's reflection in the window, and saw no emotions on her face whatsoever. It was easy to guess that the girl was lying about her story, or at least, was being dishonest about part of it. Killing boys in the womb was illegal, everyone knew that, so it would be very difficult to just admit that openly. The punishment for male abortion was worse than other felonies; it was the only crime a girl could be executed for. If her story was true, and Nancy had a hunch it wasn't, then she would have to arrest her mom, the sister-doctor (if there had even been a sister-doctor involved), and the girl herself. They'd all go to prison for the rest of their lives, and that would be the best possible outcome for them. More likely though, the sister-doctor would be executed, plus the mom too. The girl would be spared, of course, due to her age and because of criminal coercion laws. However, she'd end up in prison for a while. Man-killers tended to not be tolerated much.

"Do you understand what you're saying?" Nancy asked, severe in tone. "That's a serious crime you're talking about."

"Sure do, safety maid." She chewed her gum.

"Okay, what sex is the child in you now?"

"I don't know yet. I hope it's not a boy again. I'm afraid for the baby."

"You don't look pregnant to me."

"Well, I definitely am. I know it. And the baby really needs your help."

"The baby will get help, and so will you." _The help you deserve_. "How did you get pregnant by the way?"

"The early birth program."

"The early birth program? That's for poor girls. Your synthetic leather jacket, manicured blue fingernails, straight teeth, and that stinking cologne, that's for rich girls."

She squirmed in her chair, making her deceit even more apparent.

"All right," the black-teared girl spoke again, "I had a boy lover. It was all a secret. I kept him hidden away in an apartment downtown. I only saw him when it was fun. When I wanted to do it, you know right?" The black-teared girl searched Nancy's face for a reaction.

_She's trying me again_ , thought Nancy. "Right, so that's how you got pregnant?"

"Good ol' fashioned, mom and pop, sexy time."

"And those black tears were really pregnancies?"

"Actually, they're really boyfriends that my mother found and killed. But she never found them all though. I've been really popular...."

"And, a pickpocket and a liar." _And a little slut apparently too_ , but Nancy didn't say that out loud.

The waitress slipped in and set down the drinks. "Anything else I can get for you, girls?"

Nancy shook her head. The waitress nodded and left.

"Natalie, you need to tell me the truth now. I'm tired of playing games. So, who's your--"

"My mom is the Queen of Spades." The young girl eyed Nancy intently across the table.

Nancy glared back at the girl, looking into her bright blue eyes over those dark teardrops. Ever since the encounter in the stairwell, Nancy had suspected that the black-teared girl had a connection to the Sicarii somehow. So maybe there was a small part of the girl trying to let the truth out. Maybe she really did want help. Yet, could the girl's mother really be the Queen of Spades? The girl could still be trying to sucker Nancy into something.

"Really?"

Pushing her black hair back behind her ears, Natalie leaned forward and whispered, "I know where she is today. I can take you to her, safety maid." Natalie then winked.

"Okay, where is that?"

"In the condemned sector. I'll show you."

"And, you want me to go there and arrest her?"

"I want you to stop her. She makes me do really bad things. She makes me a liar. I don't want to be that girl anymore."

"Right."

Officially, the condemned sector was closed to everyone. A social agent needed permission from the director in order to go in there, an easy request usually. However, that's where Jasmine's body had been found. And Lilac didn't seem so eager for Nancy to chase queens this morning. _There's a reason we never find them_. Nancy figured she would need to go in alone, and without permission, if at all. _The whole thing's got to be a setup_ , thought Nancy, _the girl wants me to go for some reason._

"Are you lying to me?" Nancy asked.

"I'll take you to the queen, I promise." The girl popped a fresh piece of gum in her mouth, chewed on it, and then said, "I swear by God and Holy Mary." She blew a bubble.

The little lying thing with the blue fingernails must assume that social agents were all just clowns, and that they didn't know what they were doing. Probably, she got that idea from dealing with regular cops her whole life, or maybe, she had always been just an arrogant twit. The girl had been lying so much and so recklessly to Nancy, that she must be still underestimating social agents _. That's her mistake._ A social agent wasn't just a cop with a nicer uniform, they were much more than that. _If the girl tries something stupid_ , thought Nancy, _she'll find that out the hard way_.

Nancy stood up and pulled out her tech-phone. She pressed on it with her thumb until a chime rang out, shutting it off. Then after the battery was removed, she secured the device under her uniform coat. The black-teared girl's eyes tracked the phone's movements the whole time. "Okay Miss Narcissus," said Nancy, "take me to your mom."

The black-teared girl took a gulp of her root beer, and then said lightly, "Thank you, safety maid." Her throat was a bit dry, all of a sudden.

Nancy assumed the girl was lying of course. There was no way the girl was being completely honest, not after all the lies she had been telling the social agent. But, if the girl could lead to more Sicarii, or even to a queen, Nancy had to take the bait. She believed that anyway. The Sicarii were not normal criminals, they were man-killers, and they needed to be dealt with as fast as possible, if they were in the city. And if it turned out the girl's story was just nonsense, Nancy could just arrest the girl, and then let the police deal with her.

For sure, Lilac would be pissed at Nancy for going with the girl to the condemned sector, if the old girl found out. Nancy had been warned directly by the director about chasing queens, but Lilac would get over it soon enough believed Nancy. The worst that could happen to Nancy was for her to lose her badge and gun for a week or two, not a big deal. But if she managed to take down a queen; well, she would be on the news tonight receiving a medal from the Lady General of the Department of Safety. _It would be nice to see Foxglove biting down on her own fist too,_ thought Nancy.

Ten years ago, the condemned sector was a low-income area, funded completely by the feds for the poor girls. Then one day, the Department of Safety decided to ban alcohol in the sector. It was all for good reasons they had said, everyone would be safer and happier, but the girls of the poor sector rioted. The social agents were sent in after the police had failed to contain the situation, but eventually the social agents, themselves, got overwhelmed as well. Soon, the government sent in the military, which was like using a sledgehammer to fix a leaky faucet. The bars and stripes wrecked a fifth of the city, killing thousands, all poor. The suits in the capital panicked and changed the law quickly, making it legal to drink in the sector again. But it was too late, the damage had been done. The sector got condemned and the survivors were all relocated. The military was blamed for their tactics, and they got banned from the city forever, never allowed to enter again. Sadly to this day, the old poor sector in the city still hadn't been rebuilt yet.

At the condemned sector, the black-teared girl led the way by foot, down into the tunnels of the old subway. The tracks had been sealed off from the rest of the metro system. The usual way into the sector was from above on the streets, by crossing through a barrier, but the underground worked just as well. A few steps into the tunnel, Nancy pulled out her slender flashlight from her uniform coat, and flicked it on. There was no electric power in the old tunnels. A girl only had what she brought with her.

"You're prepared," commented the black-teared girl.

"Like a girl scout."

The young girl shifted around under some rocks with her hands, and eventually she came up with a plastic flashlight, and popped a light on. "Me too." Down the main tracks the girl skipped, keeping in front of Nancy, pointing the light forward into the darkness.

"Watch your step," said Nancy, walking cautiously behind the girl.

The girl turned around at that remark, and then began dancing backward on purpose, stepping over the tracks with little effort. She did it all with a bratty little look on her face too.

_She loves to try me_ , thought Nancy. But Nancy overlooked the girl's obvious taunt, and began to question her again. "What does the Queen of Spades look like?"

The girl thought for a second, then answered, "Well, she's tall, dark, definitely in shape."

"Dark hair? Like yours?"

"Yeah, but shorter. She doesn't like long hair on a girl. She thinks it looks too girly."

"Former military?"

"Yeah, she enlisted when she was young, I guess."

"Okay, what else?"

"I know she's like you, though. But she's different. You really _love_ boys, don't you safety maid?"

Nancy continued walking, ignoring the question. "Does your mom really hate men, or just fear them?"

"I guess it's a little of both. I think she really loves them as much as she hates them, or respects them as much as she fears them. I don't know really. You can't live with them, can't stay away from them, that sort of thing, safety maid."

"What's her name?"

"Coyote. It's what her girls call her sometimes."

"What do you call her?"

"Just mom."

The tunnel tightened up ahead. There had been a cave-in, and half the path had been blocked by debris. Nancy and the girl pushed through in their boots, easily enough, until halfway when Nancy stepped on something that made a crunch. Shining her light down, Nancy saw pieces of bone poking out of the rubble. She was stunned. They looked human, she thought, for sure.

"Safety maid," said Natalie, "you've never been down here before, huh. Yeah, some girls got buried alive when the Samson Building fell. And no one ever bothered to dig out their bodies. So there they are, still. Sad, it's what happens when the government makes bad rules."

"No, it's what happens when girls break the rules." Nancy pressed on.

The black-teared girl gave Nancy a curious look. The girl seemed honestly confused about the social agent's attitude. In truth, Nancy cared about the lost girls (a social agent who didn't care wouldn't be a good one), but she knew there was never an excuse for breaking the rules. That's how girls got hurt, that's how they died. Natalie eventually turned around and continued walking, now more subdued and quiet.

A half-mile or so into the subway, Nancy began hearing the echo of a generator's hum. Up ahead, she spotted lamps hanging down and lighting up more of the crumbling tunnel of the abandoned subway system. Many old train cars sat idle covered in years of dust. Approaching the first train, Natalie flipped off her flashlight and let it drop to the ground. She then hurried up the side of a boxcar, climbing all the way to the top. Up there, she stood up straight, put her arms out, and then sang out the words, " _We're here_."

"Shut up and get down from there now." Nancy tucked her flashlight away, and pulled out her nine-point-nine handgun. "Hurry, or I'll..." Nancy held a straight face. "...shoot you down." The social agent didn't really feel like arguing with the girl.

"Okay, safety maid." The girl tiptoed to the edge of the roof, looked down at Nancy smugly, and then launched herself off the car's top, landing on a mound of soft dirt. She toppled over onto her hands. _Oh lovely_ , thought Nancy.

Giggling, the girl picked herself up, and then began shaking her dirty hands clean. Nancy pointed ahead with her gun barrel, and commanded the girl to move, "Let's go, sweetie. Make sure you keep five steps ahead of me too."

The girl strutted backward, eyeing Nancy sharply, and chewed on her gum deliberately loud, like a child might do. There was a little mischief in her eyes now too, more noticeable than before, at least. "You know," said the black-teared girl, snapping the gum in her mouth. "We're _all_ bad girls. We _all_ break the rules sometimes. _Even_ safety maids. The more rules, the more you'll end up breaking some, right?"

"No," Nancy answered flatly. "We have rules for a reason."

She blew a bubble until it popped, and then she started chewing aggressively again. "I guess you would _have_ to say that." The girl kept stepping backward, darting her eyes around the area.

When they closed in on a tight cluster of barren train cars, Nancy spotted a makeshift shelter that had been constructed from blankets, sheets, and rugs in-between them. Without any prompting, the black-teared girl moved over to the ragged place, and with her hand, motioned towards what looked like a curtained entryway. The girl wouldn't give a word of explanation, just stood there silently, acting disinterested in the whole thing, chewing on her gum, while holding her arm out. Nancy asked in a whisper, "Is this it?" The girl nodded.

Nancy went no closer, and watched for a second, before she saw something move. A shadowy figure, with skinny limbs and ghost-white hair, shuddered and suddenly recoiled back behind the rotten flaps the girl had motioned toward. _Somebody is here_ , thought Nancy, _that's_ _for sure_. Nancy raised her handgun, pointed at the entryway, and began to slowly approach. Faint music was coming from inside.

"Well," said the black-teared girl, still holding her arm out, "old ladies first, safety maid."

Nancy gave the girl a look, then stepped through the entryway, gun first. Inside, the place looked hut-like, with cracked plastic chairs and crates, piles of filth in the corners, and a lone gas lantern shining in the middle. A cheap battery radio played low in the corner.

_A long way,_ a-way _. For_ to-night...

Nancy knew that song. She used to sing the lyrics, wrongly, when she was younger. A long a-way _,_ a-way _for a knight._ Whenever she heard the song, she had always pictured castles and men in shiny armor, like from a storybook or a fairy tale. But the actual lyrics were about looking for a lover, and not about a girl waiting for a knight to save her. Her mother once had rolled her eyes at young Nancy, when the old girl had heard Nancy singing the lyrics wrong. "That's too queer Nance," her mother had told Nancy, "Don't sing it that way. The girls will make fun of you if they hear you."

"Sorry, mother." Nancy had said.

Sitting beside the lantern in the shelter, a white-haired figure was hunched over. Her face had an elderly and worn look to it, her eyes were nearly colorless, and her messy locks hung below her shoulders. Her thin frame was wrapped up tight in a blanket, shaking, as if the old girl was cold. _This can't be the Queen of Spades_ , thought Nancy, _it just can't be._

_She was a simple girl, just traveling a-lone. When she fell down_...

Irritated at what she saw, Nancy marched up to the old girl, and demanded sternly, "Who are you?" The old girl's eyes looked up gradually from underneath her white hair. She grumbled something to herself first, and then spoke clearly, "Hello, my baby." Her slim arms shook as they rose up for an embrace. "What?" Nancy said, staring down at the old girl, troubled.

Yet before the white-haired girl could say another word, the black-teared girl ran up from behind Nancy, and called out warmly, "Hello, mama." The girl seized the elderly old girl in her arms, before kissing her on her mangy head.

"Have you been good, mama?" Natalie stroked the old girl's hair gently, pushing her fingers through the tangles.

" _You_ girl," said the old girl, coughing up, "I should ask _you,_ girl." The old girl crackled softly.

Nancy huffed. _N_ _ot the Queen of Spades_ _. Not a Sicarii. Just some old vagrant._ _A nobody._

Nancy got frustrated, and wondered what the little liar meant by bringing them all the way to the condemned sector, and into a vagrant's hole. _It's just a joke for her, that's all_. For sure, the rich girl was bored, and needed attention badly, so she decided to play a little game with a social agent. No doubt, the girl got those tattoos just so she could tell stories about them. That may be right, but so what, Nancy was done playing along, and having her time wasted. _Some jail time should suit her,_ thought Nancy.

_No way out, so she dove right in. To scratch that itch_...

The social agent holstered her handgun and then snatched the small girl by the arm. "Time to go, Miss Narcissus."

Nancy pushed through the curtained entryway, hauling the black-teared girl behind her. "WAIT," yelled Natalie. But the social agent ignored the girl and pushed on, dragging the young girl back towards the way they had come before.

"What about the Queen of Spades?" Natalie asked, in a desperate tone.

"That wasn't the Queen of Spades," said Nancy. "You lied." There probably wasn't a real Queen of Spades, Nancy had to consider that possibility. _It was all just a joke made up to spook us_. Lilac had said that might be the case.

"C' mon," pleaded the black-teared girl, "You have to arrest her, really, really, you do. She is going to do something very bad."

"Oh yeah, what's that old girl going to do? Fall asleep in her chair at dinner?"

"No, I was just kidding you, sorry." Natalie dug her boot heels into the ground, as she struggled to pry Nancy's grip off her arm. "C'mon, you have to listen to me. She'll be here, I swear to God and Holy Mary."

Nancy heaved the girl forward with no effort whatsoever. The little thing had no strength compared to a social agent on advantage formula. The girl tripped clumsily on her feet behind Nancy, trying to avoid falling.

Nancy was finished with Miss Narcissus's lies for good. Once they got back downtown, the police would take the girl and process her, and then the girl wouldn't be Nancy's problem anymore. A social agent had better things to do than babysitting.

The black-teared girl wouldn't stop mouthing off though. She pleaded and pleaded about waiting for her so-called mom, again and again, and about something "real bad" going to happen soon. Eventually, the girl's voice grated on Nancy's nerves enough to force the social agent to stop, and slap a hand over the girl's mouth. "Listen, Natalie." Nancy looked the girl down coldly. "If you shut up on the way back, I won't press _all_ the charges I could against you. Deal?"

The girl wouldn't nod, as Nancy had wanted; instead she just kept talking, mumbling really, under Nancy's palm. Nancy sighed, "I can still shoot you, you know."

It was at that moment, while Nancy held the girl's mouth, that a heavy whooping sound began to rise throughout the tunnel. The noise, slight at first, soon grew until it was the only sound echoing throughout the entire subway. _A helicopter must be above us_ , guessed Nancy. The black-teared girl had finally stopped trying to talk and was standing there passively under Nancy's grip. Nancy removed her hand from the girl's face, and then looked at the girl with a curious expression. The girl mouthed a single word at Nancy, "Mom."

On the subway ceiling, a lid opened up, and a pillar of sunlight shot down to the ground. Soon after, a figure fell through the light, and crashed hard into the debris below, causing dust to explode around it. A second or two passed in the dusty smoke, before the figure recovered, and straightened itself up and stood tall. With the dust settling, the figure's metallic frame could be seen gleaming from the sunlight. _Well, that isn't good,_ Nancy said to herself, as she pulled out her handgun.

Nancy counted her bullets in her head. She had one partially shot magazine in her gun, plus an extra full one in her coat, that should be seventy-two bullets in total figured Nancy. A bullet jacket would have been nice right now, but she would have to make-do with what she had, just her and her gun. When Nancy turned around, she noticed the black-teared girl had taken off. _Damn it_ , thought Nancy, _she ran_.

As soon as Nancy pointed her weapon at the metal figure, it began charging at her. "STOP NOW," yelled Nancy, but it kept coming. "I SAID STOP!" But the charger still continued to rush at her, forcing Nancy to fire a shot. Her bullet nailed the metal figure right in the chest, but sadly, it bounced right off, without even slowing the figure down. _Oh lovely, it's god-damn armor_. _My bullets are worthless_. Nancy went for cover. She couldn't fight a girl in armor, not with the bullets she had with her.

But before she could run too far, another armored figure came crashing down right beside her. Nancy wiped the dust from her eyes, and saw the white and crimson paint over its steel body, and the US insignia emblazoned on the shoulder. _They're_ achilles _suits, military grade_ _too. God and Holy Mary._ She retreated backward from the two armored suits, holding her gun raised, and slowly moving to a boxcar. "Stay back," she barked. "That's an order."

Nancy only caught a glimpse of the metal gauntlet swinging at her, before the heavy fist struck her face, right on the nose. Nancy staggered from the hit and began firing wildly. She emptied most of her magazine into the air, off armor, and into whatever else was surrounding her. Bits of the tunnel, dirt and concrete, dropped to the ground from her random shots. Nancy's eyes began watering up. She tasted blood in her mouth. Nancy gurgled it, and then spit in the direction of anything that seemed shiny. "Okay," said Nancy, stepping back more, "let's try this again. Stop, or I will shoot you." The two achilles suits ignored that, and closed in.

Nancy raised her gun up again, and fired repeatedly until the magazine emptied. Yet once again, the bullets couldn't make a dent and the armored figures stood unfazed. She swore she heard laughter coming from a girl in one of the suits. Nancy gritted her teeth and then went for her other magazine. More standard issue bullets weren't going to make a difference, she knew that, but it was all she had to fight with, and she wasn't going to just lie down.

Both achilles suits maneuvered around Nancy, flanking the social agent, as her condition worsened. Light flares started hindering her eyesight. And, her sense of smell had disappeared too, along with all feeling in her nose. _So this was the setup,_ realized Nancy, as more blood leaked from her nose, and over her lips. _The little liar brought me here to die_. Nancy was dumbfounded. She couldn't believe that the young girl with the black teardrop tattoos had this in her, and, she couldn't imagine how she had these kinds of connections, girls in military-grade achilles suits. _Who in the hell was she?_ Nancy slapped the last magazine into her gun.

Another steel fist came at her from the right, and connected harder than the first punch, striking her on the side of the head. Her knees buckled underneath her and the gun slipped from her hand, tumbling away across the ground. She kept on her feet though, but just barely.

"STOP IT," screamed Nancy, in a much weaker voice. "I order you to stop... I'm a US social agent and I\--"

More punches came, one to her side and one in her chest. She coughed out, pathetically, "You're... both... under... arrest..."

Again, Nancy got the same response from the girls in the suits. They pounded on her, but this time, she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything anymore, as matter of fact. The world began to spin, and spin, and spin. Nancy tried reaching out desperately for anything to hold on to, but there was nothing to grab. Her body sank down, just as if it were sinking into the water, like she was drowning. As her body dropped, Nancy pictured her mother's face, with her blue-green eyes. _Mother..._

On her back, Nancy noticed another suit above her, a third one, coated in purple and gold, the colors of a senior military officer. She also saw the eyes, fiery with dark features, glaring down from behind the suit's visor. As Nancy faded out finally, she heard a smooth voice say, "You can't win 'em all, safety maid."

Florida Dreams

(seventeen years ago)

Mother rubbed sunscreen on Nancy, making sure to get every nook and cranny at least twice. Mother always said, "The sun is your enemy." But Mother calls everything she doesn't like an enemy.

Nancy got restless just standing there, being really still like she had been told, like a good girl, while the other girls were splashing and playing in the ocean's waves. _I want to go._ She would have worn her blue swimsuit, the ugly one that covered everything except arms and legs if she had known she was just going to have to be covered up with sunscreen anyway. Besides, Mother had told her they weren't going to be here that long anyway. Just an hour she had promised, and nothing more. And Mother was wasting playtime.

Mother had taken the vacation package "Florida Dreams," because she said Florida would be fun. But Mother didn't like fun. She never had. But when she told Nancy about the rocket going up, Nancy knew why. Mother loved rockets. And this was the first rocket with girls on board in a long time. The Department of Safety had finally said yes again, after many years since a bad rocket, a really bad one, had blown up all the girls inside it with an explosion. Nancy didn't remember that; only old girls did, but she had seen a video about it once.

Her mother hummed as she worked on Nancy's skin, starting with her arms, then on her legs, and going down to her toes. She did the same humming when she did the dishes, or folded clothes, or when she was cleaning her rifle. Nancy got jittery badly, standing there, more and more every second.

"Nance, do you need to pee?" Mother asked as she stopped rubbing.

"No," said Nancy.

"Then stop shaking."

"I want to go," she whined, and then she remembered she shouldn't whine because Mother hated that.

She got rebuked with a hard look by her mother, the same one she gave her soldier girls. It was enough, and Nancy stopped. Looking at her mother's face, she spotted a little bump in her right eyebrow. Mother had big eyebrows, but they were hard to see from far away because they were so blonde. Nancy started to pick at it.

"Stop it, Nance," mother said, "keep your hands down, arms straight, like I told you."

"What's that?"

"That is just a bump I got from work."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes, for a little while. But it's fine now."

Nancy started to notice lots of those bumps and marks on her mother's face. Little Nancy had never been able to look this long, and this close up before, really. There was even a long mark going from under her left ear to her neck and down to her shoulder. She wanted to ask about it, but mother would just get more annoyed. So, she surprised her with a kiss on her eyebrow to make it better.

"Nance," said mother, as she stirred uncomfortably. "Thank you, but you know we are at the beach, honey." She never kissed, or hugged, or even let Nancy sit on her lap when outside. She didn't like stuff like that inside either really, but she didn't complain about as much mostly. Mother said she needed to look tough, and she couldn't look tough when a little girl was hanging on her, especially when little Nancy gave mother kisses.

"Well," said mother, "we're done here."

Nancy felt a shiver of excitement run up her body.

"But first, the rules."

Nancy shrank down. She hated the rules.

"Don't go out farther than the other girls, stay near the beach, and don't let the water go past your belly button. The ocean might suck you under if you go too far. Next, shuffle your feet. Because you don't want to step on a stingray. They like to sting little girls that do that. And they can hurt, really bad." Mother checked Nancy's hair. "Understood?"

"Yes," she said, barely able to keep her legs still.

"Okay, go. Have fun."

And Nancy flew, padding through the sand, smacking across the wet beach, then sloshing into the water. She nearly tipped over on the first wave that hit, and she hoped mother hadn't seen that. The water was cold. She could barely stand it when the water splashed above her knees. But she pressed on, slowly, allowing herself to get used to the water, bit by bit. She turned and looked at her mother, who was looking down at her tech-phone and wasn't even watching her. _Yes_ , she thought, _I'll have more fun_.

Girls were playing with a plastic ball, red and white, filled with air. They all dove and wailed in the waves, trying to keep the ball from touching the water. Nancy wanted to hit that ball too. She slipped in by a shorter girl, one with a really tight haircut and not wearing a top. Nancy was taller than her, so she would get to hit the ball more.

When the ball came their way, Nancy tapped it up with her finger, far over the reach of the short girl. But it went straight up, so Nancy decided to let the other girl hit it too when it came down. Mother said girls should share, because it's nice, and nice girls would have more friends, and Nancy wanted to have friends; so she could play more. When the ball came down, all the girls watched as the short girl jumped up with both hands and slapped it away awkwardly, away from them into the ocean. Nancy tried to stop the ball, but it was too fast. She crashed, flooding her nose with salty water. The other girls all groaned.

The short-haired girl looked ashamed when another girl called her stupid, as she struggled towards the ball. The ball was floating away, farther and farther, and more down the shoreline. "Girl, hurry up," yelled a girl.

"He's not a girl. He's a boy," answered another.

_A boy_? Nancy had only seen the new boys on television, all just babies. But she had never seen a new boy in real life before. Never this old, either. He looked like a girl though, but mother said that changes as they grow up. Mother had shown her pictures once, of soldier boys before the Great Calamity, and Nancy remembered one with thick black hair growing over his face. Nancy had told mother, "gross," and mother had just laughed.

Because the ball was getting away, and the boy was just being pushed back by the waves, Nancy decided to get it, since she was taller. She only glanced back at her mother once, as the waterline passed her belly button. Her mother was still distracted, looking down at her tech-phone.

_This isn't hard_. Nancy was handling the waves easily, even the big ones that nipped at her neck. She could hear the other girls still saying, "Hurry up," but at her this time. She wanted to yell, "shut up," but mother might hear her and look up from her phone. When the ball was within arms reach, the ocean had gotten almost to her shoulders, and the motion of the waves was lifting her feet off the sand, slightly.

She'd need to throw the ball hard, she knew, because the wind was against her, and she didn't want the ball lost again. She tossed it, with both hands, because the ball was too big for just one, as hard as she could, and made the throw back to the girls. She was proud of herself. None of the girls thanked her though, not even the boy. They just started playing again, patting the ball back and forth, neverminding Nancy.

As she started back, and she wanted to quickly, her toes lost touch with the sand again. A big wave had built up behind her, raising her up and pushing the water up close to her nose. At the peak, the wave curled and crashed down. Nancy got knocked forward, knees over her head, or at least it felt that way.

Underwater, she grasped and kicked, hoping to touch the sandy floor, but she couldn't. Instead, her body was pulled deeper into the ocean. The more she worked to escape, the more of that cold, salty water she inhaled. She couldn't see where the sun was anymore. Every direction she looked, the same shade of grey-blue was getting blacker and blacker. _Mother, help, please. Sorry. Sorry_...

The water shot out of her mouth and nose, as she coughed herself awake. Her mother's face, with her blue-green eyes, was right above her, and so was a crowd of other faces in the background. "Nance," said mother, but Nancy could only answer with more coughing. She saw the boy there too, with his short hair, looking down with red swollen eyes. _He must have been crying_ , she thought.

"Nance," mother said again.

This time she was able to blurt out, "Sorry."

Nancy knew she was in trouble. She had broken the rules, and mother would punish her for this, for sure. Mother didn't like it when girls broke the rules. 'That's how girls get hurt,' Mother had told her. Yet, her mother wasn't angry. She just looked worried, and her mother picked her up and squeezed her tight, just like a hug. It felt weird, because Mother was doing it front of the other girls. Eventually the other girls all walked away, one by one, and so did the boy when his mother came and got him. She wanted to ask his name, but she waited too long. The lifeguard asked about her one last time before leaving too.

Alone, Mother was quiet, just holding her there, while she hummed a nice melody. She stayed like that with her for a minute at least, until an uproar on the beach made her stop. Some girls had started cheering, others were clapping. Mother said, "Nance, look!"

The blue sky in the east had been spoiled by a bright gold flame, shooting up like a missile, leaving a trail of smoke all the way back to the earth. _Oh, the rocket_. That's the real reason they went to the beach, Nancy just remembered, and not really to have fun. Turning back to her mother's face, Nancy noticed a faint smile on her lips and the rocket fire reflected in her mother's eyes.

The General

There were no stars around Nancy, nothing but an endless black space. She knew she'd been here before, somehow she could feel that. Nancy called out desperately, "MOTHER, HELP!" That's the first thing she thought to do. But there was no sound, not even an echo of her own voice, in the place Nancy was now. She was all alone, floating through the darkness _. God and Holy Mary_ , thought Nancy, _not this_ _again_.

The cold had already started to fill up her mouth, her nose, and her lungs, slowly killing her. _Am I in that dream again_ _,_ she wondered _, my dream?_ She couldn't know for sure, but she did feel weak, like a regular girl. In her dream, Nancy was not a US social agent, and not on advantage formula. The terror in her grew, as her body filled with the cold, consuming every inch, all the way from her fingertips to her toes. _This is my dream_. _It has to be_. _It's always like this_.

She couldn't see the moon yet, which was always there with her. But she suspected it was mocking her by deliberately hiding. The moon would show itself eventually, as it always had. Ever since that day she had fallen under those waves in Florida and her mother had to save her, it had been her and the moon forever. It had been hiding that day too, for sure, behind the sun, or a cloud, or underneath the sea, somewhere, but it was there. The moon controlled the tide, as she knew.

Nancy began to panic. _I gotta get out of here. I know this isn't real, but I hate being alone in this place_. She thrashed around, grasping at what might be there, even though she knew that was pointless. There was only nothingness, as always. _Oh no. No..._ Nancy kept on floating by herself.

For the dream to end, she knew what she had to do, just let go. _Don't fight it_. _It's just a dream_. _You're not dying, not really. Let it take you_. She'd had been through this all before. Nancy told herself that girls died alone all the time, it's normal. The best girls, the toughest girls, like her mother, died where no other girls could see them, or hear them, cry. Her mother had died alone, being a hero. Nancy missed her mother.

She slowed her breath down and let her body go limp, just like her mother must've done. _It's okay_. _You won_ moon. _You got us both._ Soon, the cold took her body, turning it numb, until she felt strangely at peace. The sounds of waves rushing and of girls cheering began to rise in her ears. _I wish... I wish I could go back to Florida with my mother again. I ruined everything. She should've been mad. I didn't follow the rules._ Her thoughts wandered more and more as her mind started to go totally. _I'll never be good enough, I can't be her... but I know they all expect it. They see her when they look at me, I know it. But I'm really just a... copy, a bad one. I mean, I don't know what I am. I don't know..._

Far away in the black, a silvery glint appeared. It grew larger, as it came closer, barreling straight towards Nancy. _Here she comes_. When it was near enough, the silvery thing became an open metallic hand, the same one she had seen every time before in her dream. _My hero is here._ _Thank God and Holy Mary_. Nancy imagined that the girl behind the hand might be a firefighter, or an astronaut, or maybe even a social agent. But she knew who it was really; somehow, it was her mother, saving her again. _That's impossible though_ , thought Nancy, _it can't be her, because she's gone_.

The shining hand was the most memorable part of her dream, and it had come every time. But sometimes, there was a face too. It was always hidden from her though, behind a smoky, white mask, if there was a mask. But usually, the face came as a shadowy thing, and was indescribable. She wasn't allowed to see her hero's face for some reason, but she'd always come.

She worried for a second, waiting in the black. The shining hand might not make it to her this time, it might be too slow, and she might actually die. But if she did, and this all wasn't a dream, she hoped her cap-badge would be found, at least. She wanted to rest forever with her sisters in Athena's fountain, slowly turning green, then to black, as her corpse would do. A social agent knew her day would come eventually. Nancy let her eyes close.

To her relief, the hand grabbed hold of her, as it had always done, and just in time too. She sighed to herself. Her mystery girl pulled Nancy away, hugging onto the social agent, rushing her up and out to somewhere. Then, with a sudden splash, they escaped, and Nancy's eyes opened. She was up in the open sky, in her hero's arms, high above the waves, again. She saw the moon now as well, bright, full, and ugly, hanging over the endless dark ocean.

The moon had taken so much from her. Nancy cursed at the thing, that she hated so much, but it just smiled back at her, like it had always done in her dream. The coldness in her body soon left. _I'm alive,_ she realized _, thank God and Holy Mary... again_. Then, right as she started to relax, Nancy heard voices in her head.

"She needs to be dumped," said a girl's voice, husky and impatient.

"Oh," said a different voice, much smoother, "I like her."

"Yes, general, but you'll get over that. She's trouble. They all are."

A third voice piped up, this one tiny and raspy, and commented, "I like her too. She took some serious hits, unbelievable." Her throat sounded strained from over yelling.

"I saw," said the smoother voice.

Nancy felt a single finger run against her naked leg. Nancy squawked "eh," as she sat up and pushed the finger away. Her eyes opened.

In her waking haze, she could see three female figures hovering over her, coming into focus gradually. All of them had regulation military haircuts, and each had on the same navy blue pants and sleeveless white tops. The shortest one, the one with the widest hips, had a hairdo with bangs. The cut was the longest you could keep your hair, and still be within regulation. Her slender eyebrows and hair were a platinum blonde. The tallest girl, in the middle, had her head shaved down close to the skin. She glared down with a hard face, angular and tight.

The last one sat relaxed in a chair, right next to Nancy, and she had the darkest hair, nearly black in fact, with a standard crew cut. Her eyebrows were thick and wolf-like, nearly merging with each other over her eyes. She looked warmly at Nancy with her unusually colored eyes. The irises had a dark amber swirled in with a reddish brown, making them look like the fringes of a flame, and were obviously modified. For military girls, it was not unknown for them to get their eyes fixed by genetic enhancement, usually to reduce their natural deficiencies, but sometimes it was for improvement beyond normal eyesight. Strange eye colors were the common side effect of eye modification. The fiery-eyed girl dangled Nancy's diamond ring necklace from her fingers, playfully. The tall girl had called this one general.

"Welcome back, safety maid," said the general, as she toyed with the necklace.

"She's a tight girl, for sure," said the raspy blonde, "but a _true girl_?"

"She's seen our faces too," said the tall girl, still not pleased about the situation.

Nancy took a second and reached up to feel her own nose; it was throbbing in pain. Her nose had been busted just as she suspected, and it felt slightly crooked. That was a little trophy from her lost fight against the girls in the achilles suits. Nancy snapped the nose back in place with a crunch, and gave out a little sniff.

"Tough as nails, too," said the blonde, "she took a lot of punishment before she went down. I nailed her right in the nose, wearing armor too, and she kept on fighting."

Nancy cleared her throat, and then with contempt said, " _Thanks_ for the nose job, sweetie."

" _Hey._ " The short blonde puckered her lips and blew a kiss.

"It's fine," said the general, "nothing too important was broken."

Looking over her body, Nancy realized that she had been stripped of her uniform, all the way down to her underwear, and had been placed on a mattress on the floor. Her gun and other gear were nowhere to be seen. The military girls must have been watching her the whole time she was out, Nancy figured while debating about what to do with her. _I should make a move_ _soon_ , _before they make that decision_. Nancy hugged her legs tightly up against her chest. _But I need to know what's going on first._

Summoning her social agent voice, Nancy asked the girls directly, "What's the military doing in the condemned sector?"

"Our duty, safety maid, like it or not," answered the tall one.

"I don't. It's illegal. That means something wrong is going on, and you need to tell me what, now."

"Safety maids," the tall girl spoke again, "always telling girls what to do. Worse than a sister in church school."

The general smiled, "It's their job, lieutenant. The Department of Safety just wants to keep us safe... even from ourselves."

"Yeah," said the blonde, "they're just trying to help us, to be good girls."

Nancy scanned the room, looking each military girl down, and then continued, "This is not a joke. You're in serious trouble if you don't cooperate with me."

"Social Agent Rose..." The general's neatly manicured fingers began tapping on the top of Nancy's bare knee. "You have lots of questions, I'm sure. You are wondering why you're here. Why I brought you here." Then the general's hand gently smoothed down Nancy's leg. "I wanted to meet you. That's the only reason."

Nancy held back a cringe on her face, and responded back to the black-haired girl, "If you don't want an extra citation. Keep your hands to yourself, _general_."

The general pulled back, "Of course."

The blonde-haired girl spoke up, forcing her strained voice louder than before, and said, "I told you. She's not a true girl. She's been brainwashed like them all."

"All of us were like that before too," said the general. The girl casually hung Nancy's diamond ring necklace around her own neck. "No girl is ever born true. Social Agent Rose just needs a chance to wake up. She's been sleeping her whole life and doesn't know it..."

"Stop. Hold on," said Nancy, holding her palm up. "This sounds like I'm about to hear a pitch for your dirty little cult. You are all, now, under arrest. I order you to turn yourselves into me, peacefully. If you refuse, you will be treated as being purposefully belligerent, and negligent, and you will suffer all the penalties associated with that."

Laughs then erupted in the room, big and stupid sounding, and annoying enough to make Nancy grimace. The general didn't laugh though, she kept her cool. A few seconds passed of the other two going on, before the general snapped around and glared at the others with her fiery eyes. Stunned, the blonde and tall one immediately stopped laughing and stood there awkwardly waiting for the general to say more. The general took her time, moistened her lips, and then barked at them, "Get out." The soldiers nodded respectfully, and then stomped out the room in their synthetic leather boots. _She really must be an officer_ , guessed Nancy.

"Social Agent Rose," the general whirled back around. "I've got a crush on you, I confess. I've read all about you; the girl who only misses once in a full moon. Your mother a Marine and a national hero too." She then held a finger upward. "Patriotism runs in the blood. I know, my own mother had it, and so do you, I bet."

The dark-browed girl rubbed intensely on Nancy's diamond ring hanging from her neck. "Let me explain a simple idea to you. In life, there will always be those on the top, and, those at the bottom." The general breathed. "And there will always be those, the ambitious ones, that will try to knock those at the top, down. So they can be on top, and get to call the shots, and be known as the strongest. It's the way of the world, natural selection in action. It's normal, you see, we must all admit that. And, that's exactly, _exactly_ , what will happen when men get older, and there are too many of them. Rose, we're going to be knocked down if we don't stop them."

"Thank you for that lesson." Nancy stood up off the mattress. Her legs were a little wobbly at first, but they held up. "Now, I need to ask, did you or your friends, kill Social Agent Jasmine?"

"Have you met many girls who admit to murder?"

"Girls don't have to admit it to be arrested. They can be sent to prison all the same, even military officers, general."

"You can call me Iris, if you like, Rose."

"How 'bout the Queen of Spades?"

Iris responded with a small chuckle, and then gestured over to a dark corner of the room. Nancy looked to see where the girl was directing her to, and she spotted her handgun atop some folded laundry on an old chipped burgundy chair. _Okay_ , thought Nancy, _there's_ _my gun_.

There was no chance she'd find bullets in it, she believed. The general must have had it placed there on purpose for her to find. _They can't be that dumb, can they?_ Probably not _,_ she had to confess, but she had to walk over towards it to get it anyway. The weapon was issued to her after all.

As Nancy padded her bare feet across the cold floor, the general didn't seem bothered; it was as if the dark-browed girl wanted Nancy to get her weapon. At the chair, Nancy only glanced back once, before lifting her own nine-point-nine up and checking it. The magazine was empty of course. _That's a shame_ , thought Nancy. _I can't just shoot my way out_. _That would be way too easy_.

"It was all a mistake." Iris continued to talk, casually. "The world doesn't know it yet, but it will, for sure. In time, men will turn on their sisters, like they did before. We'll hear their lies again, about love and many other things. We'll be back stuck at home with a white picket fence, watching our shows, growing fat, waiting every day for our husbands to come home. Which he will do, when he's good and ready and drunk if he feels like it... Yes, I found out the truth."

Nancy turned back to Iris. The soldier girl was looking down, examining the calloused and scarred palms of her hands. She started to speak again, but in a cooler, lower, tone this time. "It was survival of the fittest. Women were stronger, after all, it had been proven during the Great Calamity. Natural selection chose us. We were meant to be free from them." Iris looked up, narrowed her fiery amber eyes at Nancy, and then said, "That's the hard truth, Social Agent Rose. And no one's ever going to tell you that, not the sisters, not the Department of Safety, only us. The world was meant for girls alone, forever."

"Yeah," said Nancy, returning back to the clothes stacked on the chair. "Sounds like you need some time in prison, being medicated by a sister-doctor. I can help you with that." She searched through until she found her tech-phone, or what was left of it. Someone had torn it apart and then re-assembled it, poorly, making it worthless now. The device wouldn't even power on.

"Rose, you know the Department of Safety doesn't let girls become too educated about the past. We're never told the whole truth, you _have_ to know that. Do you really believe the world will be a better place because men are in it? That's naïve."

"The education program is for keeping girls safe and boys too."

"You really believe that? To keep us safe? _Sure_ it is _._ "

As Nancy got to the bottom of the laundry, she realized that her uniform and her cap-badge weren't there. _Damn it._ She had a hunch though on who might have taken the badge. _Miss Narcissus_. The little liar with black-teared tattoos probably took it as a souvenir. Nancy remembered that the girl seemed infatuated with the badges in Athena's Fountain. The thought of the girl with her short blue-tipped fingers on the badge irritated the social agent. _I'll have to deal with that later though_ , she thought.

Standing there in her underwear, with her badge and uniform gone, Nancy began to really feel the chill in the room. She figured she was still below ground, and still in the subway tunnel somewhere. Likely, the folded clothes were placed there for her to wear, so she picked up a pair of navy blue pants, ones that appeared the right size, and began to dress. But before she could get the pants on completely, the general spoke up again. The girl's voice had gone back to being smooth. "Rose, you should shower first, darling. You're still dirty."

Nancy had to take the shower offer. She was still their captive, after all, so she was forced to play along for now. At least, she thought, it would give her a little more time to think about her next move. The so-called shower room, to which the general had directed Nancy, was just a makeshift area that had been constructed inside an old subway bathroom. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, lighting the room. The floor tiles were all discolored and dirty, except where water had run near the shower. In-between the tiles and in the cracks a dark red color had formed, that looked like old blood to Nancy, but she wasn't certain. She hadn't smelled any blood, but her nose had been busted up, and barely functioned. She hardly smelled anything. The red color could also have been from collected rust or dirt or anything like that. _Blood?_ She knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions.

Yet the idea lingered in her head, bothering her, and she had to wonder to herself: _Could this be Jasmine's blood? Did they murder her here?_ Dead and naked in an alley, that was how Jasmine was found in the Condemned Sector. The poor girl had the ace of spades glued to her forehead with a bullet hole through it. _That was the warning_ , thought Nancy, _and I ignored it_. She shook the whole idea off though. _I'm just spooking myself_. She stepped into the shower area and began disrobing.

As she slid off her bottoms and tossed them, she had another uncomfortable thought. The general might be watching her secretly. There were enough holes in the walls to make it easy if that's what she wanted to do. _Get over it,_ she told herself _._ _It doesn't matter_. She didn't have the luxury of worrying about Iris's spying on her while naked, not right now. She needed to focus on finding out what the general and the Sicarii were planning, and then make her own escape. _Let the girl see what she wants_. Nancy could add another citation to the long list of crimes to arrest the military girl for later.

The shower head, itself, had been affixed to a metal rod bolted near a pipe on a wall. When she pulled on a small lever, the shower head spritzed, choked, and then finally poured down water over her body. Surprisingly, the water felt warmer than she expected, that was certainly nice, but the general had said earlier that Nancy would enjoy it. Nancy worried about what that really might mean. There was no soap available, that she saw, but Nancy made do with a rag she found clumped on the floor. Streams of red ran down her stomach, over her hips, down her legs, and then off her toes, settling into the cracks and the areas between the tiles. The dark red was getting refreshed with her own blood.

That much blood loss meant her body had been injured more than she had thought. _Oh lovely_ _. I must look a mess too_. _I bet_ _my nose is completely wrecked_. The achilles suits had pounded her brutally in order to take her down. She couldn't remember much of the beating actually, in fact, she couldn't recall much of the fight at all, but the girls in armor had definitely done some damage to her. She felt it for sure. Nearly every part of her body above the waist, especially the nose on her face, ached. If it wasn't for advantage formula, as Nancy knew, she'd probably be dead now, slowly turning to green, then to black. She closed her eyes, and let herself enjoy the warm shower for what it was, as the water spray cleaned her body.

Not long passed in the shower before Nancy heard something coming from behind. The sound of bare feet smacking on the tiles echoed throughout the bathroom. She spun around to see who it was, but her arms got caught in a grip. The dark-browed general stood face to face with her, holding the social agent's arms firmly. Iris was strong, as much as Nancy was, but that was expected. Most active duty military girls were on advantage formula, the same as social agents, and Iris was obviously on it.

The soldier girl stood completely naked. Her skin looked clean, head to toe, without any tattoos, or other identifying marks. Nancy figured that meant the Sicarii tattoos, she had seen, must be only for the lower-class girls. The general's toenails were colored blue though, a familiar shade too; it starkly reminded Nancy of the little liar's blue fingernails. In between Iris's average sized breasts and their dark nipples, hung Nancy's diamond ring necklace. It was the only item the girl wore. If Nancy had to bet, Iris must've kept the necklace on in order to tease Nancy.

"Rose," said the general, her fiery eyes wet from the shower. "I thought we should talk more."

"General," Nancy responded, "It's getting a little crowded in here, isn't it?"

"Well," Iris spoke softly, "I needed to shower too."

Iris released Nancy's arms, and then eased herself under the shower spray, moving within a breath from Nancy's face. "No use in wasting all the hot water on just one girl." The military girl began massaging the water over her own skin, and eyeing Nancy as she did it. _Just play along_ , thought Nancy, _for now_.

"You know," Iris spoke, rubbing her hand over the ring on her chest, "who's the real criminal here?"

"You, general. Matter of fact."

"No," answered Iris, "the real criminal is you. And you know it too. You're boy crazy. It's an illness... a weakness.... But I can cure you." Iris touched Nancy's inner thigh with a finger, gently, making the skin flutter. Nancy gasped.

Iris asked, "Never been with a girl before?" Water ran between her amber eyes and off her pale pink lips.

Nancy didn't answer and shut her eyes. She pictured _him_ , her him. She imagined his sky-blue eyes peering down at her in bed, his muscular shoulders that she liked to hold on, and she heard his voice, the sweet one he used whenever he would call her. "Nancy," he would say to her, "I need your help. _Please_ come." He always said that too, because he knew she would. It was her duty. _Did they know about him?_ Nancy worried. _They've got to_. The Sicarii had taken her phone, twice. All her contacts, including his, were on there. The black-teared girl had teased her before, and even the general seemed to be. _They know_. That meant he was in danger... again. And it was all her fault.

A smooth voice whispered into Nancy's ear, "Who needs men?"

_Just play along_ , thought Nancy.

Nancy plucked up Iris's hands, entangling their fingers, and pulled the general so close she felt the water running off the girl's face. As their lips brushed up against each other, Nancy tasted the rose-wine flavored chapstick the girl wore. Nancy asked the general, as their lips fumbled against one another, "What are you doing in the condemned sector?" Iris ignored the question and kissed Nancy, engulfing her mouth, and taking in her tongue deeply. Their wet bodies slipped and twisted on each other in the shower, as Nancy struggled for some breathing room. Nancy pulled away and asked another question, "What are you planning, really?"

"I will only will it's freedom... for every girl."

Iris moved in aggressively on Nancy, their legs became wound, and their off-balance bodies ended up against the wall together. A piece of tile broke off and fell. _This is going nowhere_. Nancy pushed the general away, and said to the soldier girl, "Who needs men?"

"No one, sister."

_But they need us._ Nancy took Iris again, wrapping the girl's hands behind her back. "I just want to know one thing," said Nancy playfully. "Are you really the Queen of Spades?"

Iris smoothed her cheek against Nancy's, "Does it matter?"

"No," she answered plainly enough. Then the water turned cold. Nancy changed to her social agent voice. "Like I told you before, you don't have to admit anything..." The social agent clinched the back of the general's hair. "...for me to arrest you." Nancy then growled under her breath, "ALL OF YOU."

Nancy swung the general's head around sharply, tripping the girl's legs against her own, and smashed Iris into the wall, face first. Shards of tile broke and dropped into the puddle at Nancy's feet. The general's body, itself, fell with a wet plop, motionless.

"Sorry, sister," said Nancy, "I'm not interested."

The military girl had been rendered unconscious with one blow. Nancy was proud of herself. Reaching down to the girl's neck, Nancy snatched up her necklace. She would've liked to have commented about stealing to the girl, but Iris wouldn't hear it anyway. Nancy donned the necklace again, and then kissed the ring. She skipped out on her bare feet, looking both ways before she left the bathroom.

Nancy went to grab her gun first by instinct. She didn't have much time before the other girls realized what had happened in the shower, or the general woke up. Naked and wet though, she had to put on some underwear at least. At the burgundy chair, she grabbed what she could, including her handgun, and was able to pull on bottoms and a sleeveless white shirt quickly. From nearby, she heard the echo of voices coming. Counting seconds, she dashed out of the room.

Taking a corner, she came upon an achilles suit up against a wall. The purple and gold one, she had seen before, and it was meant for a high ranking officer. Nancy hurriedly searched for the suit's achilles key. She figured she would be faster in armor, than barefooted, and also, she'd have some protection if they came after her. Luckily, the key had been left in a slot on the armor. _Thank God and Holy Mary._ Piece by piece, she slapped the armor on her body, while listening for the girl's voices, which were coming closer and closer. It's always a pinch to fit into armor comfortably and fast. The social agents had their own grade too, but theirs were outdated, even rusty. But, Nancy did have some practice time in armor before. An achilles suit's robotics could only move when enough force was applied, so a girl needed some personal strength and some endurance to use it properly. Advantage formula helped with that a lot. Civilian girls couldn't last more than few minutes in one. As she slid the helm on and clicked it in place, the electronic systems activated automatically. "Good evening, miss." A male robotic voice spoke. "Please give the authorization code."

"This is US Social Agent Nancy Rose. I'm overriding authorization for this suit. Emergency code: one eight two zero, two one, rose."

"Thank you social agent."

Once the approval went through, the internal display started up. Nancy could see her heart rate, body temperature, plus other basic information. The communications also switched on for her. She was tempted to use the radio, but she knew she shouldn't. There was no way to know who could be listening in. Nancy really didn't want her escape to be discovered too soon, and not before she's even left.

Before moving into the main subway tunnel, Nancy scanned the area as a precaution. She switched to infrared then back to normal again. The place looked clear enough for her to make a run. She kicked off in the suit, tearing up dust. It took a few seconds until she hit a nice stride. A girl in armor can move up to fifty percent faster than unarmored if she knows what she was doing. Yet, maintaining that high speed requires a straight path, without any real obstacles. Nancy guessed that she was running about one hundred, twenty percent efficiency on average.

As she ran past the old trains, Nancy spotted something from the corner of her eye. Atop a train, the black-teared girl sat, with her short legs swinging, and her boots banging up against the metal hull. A social agent's cap was on her head, and a cap-badge was in her hands. No doubt they were Nancy's, but she couldn't stop now to address that. Nancy pressed on through the tunnel. The girl just stared at the achilles suit running past her with big eyes and a gaped mouth.

Taking a practice leap, Nancy flew over thirty feet into the air, about ten feet from the ceiling. She came down into the dirt hard, but was able to keep on her feet. _That was a decent jump_ , she thought. Nancy continued to run. Up in the distance ahead of her, she noticed a wide crack in the ceiling, and some metal framing hanging from it. _If I can get just a little higher_ , believed Nancy, _I can go right out the top._

She got up to speed again, and right before approaching the crevice, she jumped. She leaped through the air, sprawling her arms, and with an armored gauntlet, she managed to clamp down on a piece of dangling framework. _Wow._ That must've been at least a forty foot jump figured the social agent. _Oh yes_ , thought Nancy, _the military suits were much better than the social agent grade_.

She pulled herself up and climbed through the crack all the way to the streets. The sun had already begun to set for the evening, and only a wisp of light still lingered on the horizon. She hadn't really considered how long she'd been out. She had lost the whole day it seemed. Well, she hoped it was just one day, anyway.

She sprang off, over a heap of dirt, but this time, she missed the landing, and collapsed face-first into soft debris. Picking herself up, she wiped the dust off her visor as best she could with her armored fingers. She still wasn't used to the suit yet, or moving this fast, or jumping this high, or feeling this strong. The military grade achilles suits were spectacular though, she had to admit. She would love it if the social agents ever got an upgrade.

Out in the far distance, Nancy saw Magnolia Tower looming over the city. At its pinnacle, a red beacon steadily pulsed. That should be enough to navigate the city without switching on the navigation system, which would make her vulnerable to tracking. But now, she had to decide where to go. _Do I try for the US Social Agent Building?_ There she could warn her sisters about the Sicarii in the condemned sector. _Or... do I go to him first?_ He was in danger, surely, and it was her duty to protect him. _I don't know,_ thought Nancy _, I really don't know._

The radio suddenly broke with a distress code number, followed by a girl's voice. "The general is down, repeat, the general is down. The target is in an officer level suit, moving into the city. Orders are to kill target, repeat, _kill_ the god-damn target."

Nancy sighed. _I'm a dead girl now_ , thought Nancy, _I've just got a little more time than Jasmine did_.

She took off, as fast as she could, running towards the city. Nancy made it out of the condemned sector in less than a minute, much faster than a vehicle could have. In armor, she could launch herself high enough to overcome barriers, land onto rooftops, and crash through wooden doors and glass windows, safely, without slowing down. She'd never moved this fast in armor before. And she was enjoying it.

At the edge of the condemned sector, she slid to a stop on top of an old factory building's roof. She needed to take a moment to adjust the suit more. The armor felt a little too tight on her in some areas of the body. She wiggled around in the suit until her body felt loose enough. Her handgun shifted too, and fell to a more comfortable place in the suit.

_Okay_ , she asked herself, _do I go for him?_ Nancy wondered that, as she stood and gazed across the dark cityscape _. The Sicarii know about him,_ Nancy believed they had to, _and he's in danger_. _But, was that the smart move?_

The last of the sunlight had finally disappeared, as she witnessed the lights of the city slowly popping on. _No,_ _I should go to the Social Agent Building_. _I need to tell Lilac_. _The social agents have to know what's going on_. _That's the smart move._ But Nancy feared that if the Sicarii got to him first, they would kill him, tear him apart in revenge, and worse, it would all be Nancy's fault too. _Please, God and Holy Mary, not that_... _please not that._

The waxing moon peeked around from behind clouds over the top of the Magnolia Tower. It felt like it was out for a reason, as it stared down at Nancy, like the moon knew an inside joke, or a secret she didn't, and it was laughing at her about it. She hated the moon, so much. Nancy couldn't wait to decide any longer. _Okay moon_. She breathed in, and then she leaped.

Simple Proposal

She landed on an apartment balcony hard, crushing a potted fern under the suit's metal boot. _Oh lovely_. The plant had been given as a gift from her to him when he had moved in a year ago. He had forgotten to water it again it seemed, the leaves looked wilted and browning. She tried to scoop up the remains, but her fingers were too clumsy in the metal gauntlets. She gave up. _Maybe,_ considered Nancy _, it's better off dead anyway_.

Soon, the blinds behind the glass doors ruffled, a click sounded, and the doors screeched open. A man she knew with sandy-brown hair and sky-blue eyes pushed aside the blinds and stepped out onto the balcony. His face was stunned. "Nancy?" He asked.

She turned the helmet visor to meet his eyes, and with a tired breath, said to him, "No, it's your mother." She stomped past him, going inside.

"Oh, man," he said, his voice getting excited, "Is that an achilles suit?"

"Yup, I'm borrowing it."

His living room was a mess still, and it had been like this for awhile. In the center of the room, sitting on flat cardboard, was an ancient motorcycle engine, non-functional and useless. The only piece of furniture in the living area was a couch, and he had left tools, metal fixtures, and other nonsense scattered across the cushions. Though he had placed cardboard and some papers down throughout the room, thoughtfully she believed, the carpet had still gotten ruined anyway. She would end up having to pay to fix this, she imagined. His so-called project, he'd been working on for at least nine months now, still wasn't finished. Nancy wasn't pleased.

"You were supposed to have cleaned up by now. You promised." Nancy released the snaps on her helmet and slid it off. Her head felt soaked from sweating. There's no temperature control in armor, unfortunately. "There's no reason to keep this junk around."

"It might look like I'm not making progress, but I really am. I swear to God and Holy Mary."

"Alex, you're never gonna get to ride it. Even if you were to actually finish it, I told you already, it's too dangerous."

"Thanks, mom," he responded, mockingly.

"It's illegal for you, you know that. I would have to arrest you if you tried to drive it. I'm sorry, but that's a fact."

He let out a fake laugh, and uncomfortably scratched the back of his head. He liked to hide how he felt that way, whenever she lectured him. And he always did it too with a laugh, or with a little cute smile, or with some petty sarcasm like, "Okay Mom. Sure Mom. Absolutely Mom." For sure, he could really be annoying sometimes, but Nancy had gotten used to it, mostly anyway.

She really understood that he wasn't happy being stuck in an apartment, being monitored all the time, unable to go where he wanted, when he wanted, and forced to take public transportation as a little girl did. He had told her once, as they lay in bed together one night, "It's like being in a cage. You can look out, but you can't go anywhere."

He exaggerated of course, he _could_ leave, certainly. He just needed permission, which only required informing the social agents where he was going. His situation was a special case though. Boys didn't need permission from the Department of Safety to go anywhere (though all the boys whined just the same), he had to be put under the protection program many years ago, when his life had been threatened. Nancy had been assigned to him as his guardian, when she first got transferred to the city. Since then, they had become friends... and a lot more than she was comfortable with.

He never listened to her, though, ever. Nancy knew after she gave him a talking to, no matter how reasonable, that later he would just do what he wanted anyway. A lot of the boys were like that, and took too many risks. Sometimes a girl had to be really forceful with them in order to get their compliance, but it was for their own good. _Boys needed the rules_ , thought Nancy, _to keep them safe_.

"What happened to your face, Nancy?" Alex touched the bridge of her nose and gently smoothed down to the end.

"Careful," she pulled back. "Things got a little hot, and I took one in the face."

"Whoa, from what?"

"A girl I'm going to arrest."

"Oh, work. It looks like you were in a car wreck."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a mess right now." Nancy began removing the rest of the armor. "Can you _please_ help me out of this?"

He nodded, and immediately started working to dismantle the achilles suit. She could tell he enjoyed doing it, as he was so attentive, eyeing over every piece taken off her body, before laying them down in an orderly fashion on the floor. Normally she would've appreciated that thoughtfulness, but right now, she needed out of the armor faster, and his process was too slow. Nancy feared the Sicarii could be on their way, and she needed to get him to safety. When she caught him trying to slip a gauntlet on, she yanked it out of his hands, and scolded him, "Stop playing." He just grumbled in return. _These boys_ , thought Nancy.

Inside the suit she was hot and sweaty, her flesh stunk horribly too, nearly unbearable for the social agent. Thankfully, he probably couldn't smell her much, being normal without any advantage levels. As she slid her toes out from the last boot, Nancy clung onto him, keeping herself from falling over. He grabbed her back, and pulled her body close to his. Being held in his arms, she got reminded how naturally strong he was compared to her. _Boys don't need advantage formula like girls do._ Nancy had always been amazed about that; how physically different men really were from girls. _They don't even have to try._ She hugged him, as he pressed against her tighter, slowly easing in. She sensed he wanted to kiss her, as his lips inched towards hers. _There's no time for this nonsense right now_. She spoke up suddenly, "I need some water please... sir." That seemed to subdue him, and she was able to pull back.

"Sure... miss," he said, but he didn't let her go though. Soon his face brightened up, and he told her plainly, "We all need something." He then put his lips on hers, and squeezed her in his arms, taking her by surprise. For a second, Nancy became light-headed.

Eventually, he pulled back, giving her a chance to breathe, and he said, "Your lips taste like roses. Are you wearing chapstick?"

"Um," she answered, "Just give me the damn water."

He released her and left for the kitchen.

Nancy felt tired now, more than normal. _Oh no._ A troubled thought popped into her head _. My levels are dropping._ The first sign of advantage levels getting too low was always increased fatigue. Soon after that, the senses would fade, followed by everything else, including her strength. Without the advantage levels, she really worried that she'd be too weak to do her job and be able to protect him. Nancy figured that she had at least twenty-four hours left, or maybe a little less, before she was in real trouble. Yes, she needed to get another dose soon, but not right away.

Looking around the living room, she saw he still had Social Agent Dandelion's sunny yellow flower pressed under glass, hanging on the wall. Dandelion was a true Hollywood social agent that loved her fame. She liked to wear a sunny dandelion on the lapel of her uniform and would give them out as gifts to young girls and sometimes to boys too. It was like being some kind of girl Lone Ranger, but with a flower instead of a silver bullet. He treasured the old flower Dandelion gave him, just like all the other girls surely did, reckoned Nancy. The gesture was good publicity for old Dandelion, and that was the exact reason she did it. The girls all liked to joke that Dandelion secretly paid a public relations firm for herself. Maybe, thought Nancy, but what was certain was that the old girl had been auditioning for the chair behind Marigold's desk her whole career. In fact, she had wanted it her whole life.

Nancy wiped the dust off the glass. The yellow petals underneath had gone mostly brown and had shriveled up. But, there was a little shine left to them, much like the old girl Dandelion herself with her aging golden smile.

The flower had been given to him when he was a teenager, just after he had won first place in the national triathlon contest for his high school. He was the first boy to ever win, too, and in the whole nation. He had to do talk shows and meet various celebrities. They even put his picture on a magazine cover with a subtitle saying, if Nancy remembered correctly, "Meet America's new number one teen athlete, and he's a boy!" It was quite a little event for a while. And of course, that's when Dandelion met him, live on the tele-screen during a staged meet-up, and she gave him that sunny yellow flower. "Never forget," the old girl had told him, with her big rehearsed grin, "What it feels like to be on top."

For a brief time Alex was a small celebrity in the world, and he remembered being somewhat happy then before everything changed, and he started receiving death threats. Young Alex had to be put under the US Social Agent protection when a cat's severed head showed up in front of his mother's home. His school's mascot was the mountain lion, and some girl had wanted to send a message. No girls liked to lose, that's definitely true, but when they lost to a boy, they could take it even harder. After that, the Department of Safety heavily restricted all publicity involving school sports.

Thinking about it now, Nancy recalled another old news story, about a college girl chess player, named Linda Sweet, who stabbed a boy in the throat with her black queen chess piece when he yelled out 'checkmate' at a national contest. The boy survived it fortunately, and she went to prison. Now, the girl's the reigning chess champion at the Pittsburgh State Penitentiary. Nancy tried to think of the boy's name but couldn't. All she could remember was that he had stopped going to chess championships and dropped out of the news forever, just as Alex had. The chess boy was safe though, thought Nancy, but Alex wasn't. He was in danger right now.

He soon came around the corner, glass in hand.

"You need to leave the city," Nancy said in a hurry. "You're in danger."

"Okay, what are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter. You're gonna take the bus, go somewhere, anywhere. But, get out of the state. And don't return."

"Don't return?"

"Never come back," she said bluntly, and then snatched the glass from his hand. She drank it down so fast, water leaked down her chin, neck, and then over her chest.

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to, as long as you do what I say, and are safe."

He snorted, " _Safe_? I'm not going anywhere."

"Listen to me, the Sicarii knows about _you_ ," and she made sure _not_ to say, 'they know about us,' because there was never an us. "They can find you. And they will hurt you when they do."

"Wait a second, they're after you, aren't they? That's why you showed up here, face messed up, in your underwear, in an achilles suit."

"No, uh, I mean yes. Listen, just do as I tell you, please. Hurry, grab some clothes, whatever you can to take on the bus."

"Let's leave together then. We'll both be safe."

"No," she balked, "I have to work. Social agents don't just run off with boys."

"Well, I'm not leaving either. Not without you."

She groaned. _Damn it_. He wanted to be stubborn today, but she had no time for this. Every second wasted here, the Sicarii could be a second closer. She thought about slapping him with her bare hand, but she didn't want to start a fight, or, start anything else. She remembered the night she had punched him in the mouth, a couple of years ago, after he had tried to kiss her for the first time, clumsily. She had knocked him to the floor and was scolding him, informing him, "Physically assaulting a social agent is a felony." She had felt bad, though; his lip had been busted and bloodied. So when she picked him off the floor, she had to give him a kiss to make it all better. They had been having that _kiss_ for a while now. _Too long_ , thought Nancy.

She should have never started with him. It was illegal and wrong, and she knew it was too. Now he might die because of her, and she was a social agent; she was supposed to be his protector. _I have to get him out of here_. Nancy supposed that meant she would have to force him to, any way necessary. She raised her handgun.

"I'm not gonna argue with you," she said coldly, planting the barrel on his forehead. She knew the gun's magazine was empty, but he wouldn't know that. Alex didn't panic though, nor move an inch. Only a flicker went off in his eyes when her gun touched his forehead. _Interesting_ , thought Nancy, _he's trying to call my bluff._

She continued, "If you refuse to listen to me, then I'll shoot you right now. A bullet to the head will be a lot better than what they'll do to you."

He stood in silence, staring at her with his sloppy hair and sky-blue eyes. Then he gave her one of his half-smiles, and said, "Alright, sounds good to me."

"This is not a joke, Alex."

"I know. I'm dead serious. Go ahead and shoot."

She was about to give up on the stunt, when suddenly he dropped to his knees in front of her. "What are you doing?" She asked, keeping her barrel firmly on his head.

"I haven't got anything to lose. Since I'm about to be shot, it's now or never."

"What are you talking about?"

"Men used to do this all the time before."

"W-what?" She choked on the air. A strong scent, something like gun smoke, curiously enough, hit her all of the sudden. _So strange._ But her nose was still swollen, it could be all in her head, or it just a misreading for sure.

Below her, his smile disappeared, and he spoke clearly, "Nancy Rose..." He paused to breathe, and then continued, "Will you marry me?"

Her body felt hot again, and every scratch and every bruise began throbbing to her heartbeat. _I feel weird._ The advantage formula must be wearing off faster than she thought. She had to struggle there for a moment, to find her voice, and give him a strict response. She wanted to tell him he was an idiot. She really felt like just shooting him for real and being done with it. Instead, though, she tapped him with her gun lightly and stared down at him with a bothered look.

"If it's no," he said, "just pull the trigger."

Nancy finally answered him, her voice weak and cracking, "This is stupid."

"Let's be stupid then, together."

"I should have never--"

"Pull the trigger, c'mon. You can blame it on the Sicarii."

"You thought we were in _love_?" She held the gun tensely.

"Maybe... I guess I'm about to find out, one way or another."

He was more of a foolish boy than she had believed. Nothing about them was about love. She knew that for sure. What had happened between her and him was all just a little fun, just a game, and a bad secret she hadn't kept well. She regretted it now more than ever. She touched the diamond ring hanging from her neck. _I loved someone already_ , _when I was still a dumb girl._ This thing with Alex would probably end the same way too, him dead and her alone again, and her fault again. Her chest tightened and her legs weakened thinking about it. Nancy felt worse every second.

"Nancy..." he said, looking sincere, "we can leave together, and we'll both be safe."

His bright blue eyes stared up at her under the shadow of the gun, as he waited for a bullet or a yes. _I can't shoot him_ , figured Nancy, there are _no more bullets_.

There was no hope in simply reasoning with him. That had never worked before, and threatening wasn't working, but she still needed to convince him to leave. Nancy wondered if it was best to just agree for now, and just tell the stubborn idiot what he wanted to hear, then maybe she could get him out of there faster, and he'd be safe. It wasn't as if it was possible to get married anyway, it was illegal.

"Sure, why not," she answered, "it's just a federal felony. Let's do it."

"Well..." He said, rising up and pushing the gun away. "I was getting worried. I was starting to think you might really shoot me."

Before she could say anything back, he kissed her deeply, pulling her to him. Her handgun dangled from one finger, as she stood wrapped in his arms. She could smell that gunsmoke scent again too, much stronger than before. It was only a brief moment with him, before her gun fell to the floor, and she had to stop and push him away softly.

"We have to go," she said. She picked up her gun.

"I know an old sister from church school. She lives right outside the city. She'll marry us, I'm sure."

"No, she'll lose her job."

"She won't care about that. She's retired."

"Okay fine. Out of the city, good," she said. "Let's go."

All that really mattered to Nancy was to get him out of the apartment and out of the city as far as she could. Love was a game for schoolgirls anyway, and definitely not for social agents. But she'd do her duty to keep him safe and go along with this fantasy for now. Nancy was a little worried though, last time she was to get married to a boy, he died.

Nancy still remembered sitting across from him at dinner, her lottery husband, at their first and only date her mother had arranged for them at some Italian restaurant. Nancy had won the lottery at seventeen, the youngest age possible. He was a year older than her but looked younger than his age. He liked to read books about history and had a very dry sense of humor. Young Nancy had trouble knowing when he was joking or not. Her mother had already bought their rings too, both diamonds. Young Nancy couldn't wait; she just had to show him before they ordered their meals. He had called her his "wild rose." But she wasn't sure why he had. She was actually so boring at dinner; she got worried he wouldn't like her. But, he had probably told her that on purpose because he knew it wasn't true, the same way you tell an ugly girl she's pretty, and a fat girl she's not. The next day, the boy was dead. All Nancy had now from then was her own wedding ring around her neck to remember.

Nancy took a raincoat, a t-shirt, and a pair of pants from Alex's closet to wear. She slipped on old sneakers too, the size was too big, but it was better than nothing she supposed. Next, they made sure to dump the achilles suit down his trash chute, and not with the achilles key. Without the key the armor was unusable, so it was safe to leave it for now. He seemed disappointed watching the pieces fall down the chute. He even loudly sighed right before dropping the last piece, the helmet. _Over dramatic_ , she thought. He must have known she would never let him wear the armor anyway, even if they had time, even if under better circumstances, no matter how much he begged. It was totally unsafe for boys.

The public bus arrived about fifteen after seven, the last one until eight. The bus driver wore flip flops, a code violation, but Nancy let it slide without a word. The little petite driver let him ride for free after a brief smiling session between the two of them. That bothered Nancy some. She pushed him through and made sure to pay for both of them, with some loose change of course.

"Does she always let you ride for free?" Nancy asked, sitting down.

"Sure, all the boys I think." He sat down next to her in the back.

"I see."

The bus was nearly empty at this time in the late afternoon. Not many traveled outside the city, and especially not after sundown. There were miles of ghost neighborhoods that surrounded the city. All of them had been populated once before the Great Calamity came. Now, only vagrants and criminals hid out there, if anyone did. Mostly it was just feral dogs and other creatures that claimed those old neighborhoods. Not a safe place to live. The bus's route should take them to the city's edge, right next to the northern suburbs, with all their wild, overgrown lawns.

Minutes into the bus ride, she found herself holding his hand. She'd never done that before, so she stopped. She wasn't sure he even noticed that. He was so focused on something else, lost in thought.

"I need to use your old spare phone," she said.

"Um..."

"You remembered it right?"

"Yeah, sure." He scrambled through his travel bag.

She figured his old phone was safe to use for now. Its number wasn't in her contacts in previously lost tech-phones and hadn't been for years. The social agents had given him the phone when he went under the protection program years ago, for safety reasons. What made the older phones safer, or at least better for those in the protection program, was that they were harder to track than modern phones. No one would be able to locate it if the phone was not in use, in other words, it could only be seen when live. And these phones, if older than twenty years, wouldn't even leave a location history in the federal security system either. Criminals liked to use them, of course, when they could get their hands on one, but that wasn't much of a concern for the Department of Safety since the older phones were mostly out of circulation by now anyway. Social Agents were trained to recognize them and confiscate them on sight.

His phone had no service, though, since he hadn't needed it. But like all phones they could still dial out to the emergency services, and a social agent could use any phone as long as it had power. Nancy powered it on.

"Operator, please," Nancy spoke into the phone. After few seconds she got a response.

"Emergency operator, how can I help you?"

"Yes," Nancy continued, "this is Social Agent Nancy Rose. I need an emergency connection to the Director of US Social Agents right now, please."

"Please confirm your emergency code."

"One eight, two zero, two one. Rose."

"Thank you, social agent. One moment."

As she waited, she glanced over at him. He was toying with the achilles key in his hands. She'd told him earlier to throw it away once they were out of the apartment, but he hadn't listened to her again. She guessed there was nothing wrong in letting him have that little souvenir.

"Sorry social agent, no response."

"Then please connect me to Social Agent Caroline Lily."

"One moment."

Lilac had always answered, especially on an emergency connection. Nancy wondered what was keeping the old girl busy enough to keep her away from the phone. Not long later, a quiet voice came through the phone, and said meekly, "Nancy?"

"Lily, I need to talk to Lilac. Do you know where she is?"

"Nancy," there was a shiver in the girl's voice. "She's gone. She..." The girl had trouble getting the words out. "She fell... Nancy, she fell down the stairs."

"What?" Nancy felt another bout of weakness hit her. Her fingers and toes tingled.

"Foxglove said she found her. This afternoon. There's a note too. I don't understand what it means."

"What did the note say?"

"Um, it said she was tired of this shit world, and that um, she didn't want to live without a man anymore. That makes no sense. That doesn't sound like the director at all. But Foxglove said it was her words."

"Nope," said Nancy, her heartbeat increasing and her palms sweating. "That doesn't sound right. Something's wrong."

"I know..." Lily continued talking, having to sniffle her way through the words, "Foxglove read the note to everyone. And um, Clover giggled, like it was so funny, before Foxglove told her to shut up. The capital named Foxglove the acting director too. She's got her ugly black boots up on Marigold's desk. She's acting like she's gonna get the job. She's been bossing every girl around. Nancy, um, I don't understand. They won't let me go home either." The red-headed girl was about to lose it. "They said, um, I have to keep working, and be a tough girl, and stop being a crybaby..."

"It's okay," Nancy told the girl, "I don't understand either."

That wasn't true. Nancy did understand. She wanted to tell the poor girl, what she really believed, that Foxglove murdered the director and took Marigold's desk for herself. She wanted to tell her that Foxglove was working with the Sicarii. But she couldn't say that, not now, it would upset Lily more, and maybe put her in danger, even more. So Nancy said, as calmly as she could, "Lily, listen, just keep working like normal. Like nothing was wrong. Don't say anything. Don't tell anyone you talked to me. I'll call you again, sweetie. I promise. Keep your eyes and ears open, and be cool about everything."

"Yes, um, okay Nancy," the girl's voice got quieter, "But one more thing, Foxglove has sent social agents looking for you. They said you were missing and were in trouble."

"I figured." Nancy felt sick throughout her body. "It doesn't matter; don't say anything Lily, please. And don't come looking for me. Don't bother tracking me. Just be normal. It's gonna be alright." Nancy hated lying to the girl.

"Okay," Lily said in a whisper.

"I'll call soon, bye-bye." Nancy hung up and immediately disconnected the battery as a precaution.

Nancy and Alex were the only ones left on the bus now. The streets outside had completely emptied out and the bus rolled along freely and unhindered, only slowing at stops. Its low rumbling engine was the only noise heard, as she gazed out the window at the dark suburban homes passing by. She grabbed Alex's hand again and tighter this time. That made her feel strangely better, a little at least. He noticed her hand this time, and he said quietly, "It's okay Nancy. Like I said. We'll leave together."

Nancy closed her eyes. She fantasized about Alex and her with a white picket fence, and maybe a dog and a cat, living somewhere safe like in the country. She'd name the dog Foxglove too, an ugly black mutt, and she'd lock the thing in a cage whenever it misbehaved. _That's a nice thought._ All she had to do was just ride this bus out of the city forever and forget she was a social agent.
Junk Garden

The Junk Garden, as a sign outside claimed it was called, was a gray and dirty place filled with ancient automobiles, all lined up straight, like they were trees in an orchard. In the very center, a giant oak stood, holding up a car engine by a heavy chain from a thick branch. The engine looked ruined, rusty, as if someone had left it hanging there a long time. In fact, most of the vehicles looked like they had been here for a while, and many appeared to be pre-calamity. There couldn't be much business this far out of the city, not for these old hunks of scrap metal. Close to nine o' clock at night, Nancy and Alex walked in the front gate.

When the wind blew in the junkyard, the place whistled from all the metal and glass. A noticeable odor stirred in the air too. One that felt stinging to Nancy's nose, as if it was from vegetation of some kind. An odd smell for sure, here in the junkyard, thought Nancy. Yet, maybe that's the whole reason the place was named the Junk Garden, because there was an actual garden here somewhere.

He was holding her hand again. That was becoming a habit, she had noticed. Nancy gracefully slipped her hand out, and pulled her rain jacket tighter around herself. Such signs of affection should be done in private, if at all. Besides, she was a social agent not a schoolgirl, Nancy reminded herself, again.

He lurked about the place, eyeing the old motorcycles, or what was left of them. He must think he was shopping, the way he gleaned over the junk. She supposed that might be the real reason he wanted to come here, at least partly. It was a sad thing to witness, a man fascinated by engines and vehicles, who would never be able to drive one. She had hoped that he would have grown out of that childlessness by now. He once admitted to her that he wanted to race when she was alone with him one night. She had laughed at that, but immediately regretted doing so; his face looked hurt. Alex just couldn't understand, it was far too dangerous for him, for every boy even. She had tolerated his fantasies enough tonight though.

"So, did we come here to look at junk?" Nancy asked him.

"No," he backed away from an old motorcycle, one that was clearly pre-calamity. "Do you know what this is?"

"An old junked motorcycle."

"It's a police motorcycle." He was correct; the star on the gas tank was still barely visible. "Men used to ride these." He turned and kept moving after saying that.

Nancy was relieved. She had thought she might have to pull him away. The Department of Safety was careful with education policy, especially with boys. History before the Great Calamity was a touchy subject. Discussion of wars was minimized or completely ignored if possible. In fact, the church schools forbade any talk of wars at all. Men's role in history, such as that of a soldier, or of an athlete, or of stupid reckless racers, was only mentioned when necessary. The policy kept boys safe, and that's what was important. Nancy had indulged him before, though, more than she should have. Once, she brought him a video from the federal archives, _Great Races from the Past_ , a collection of the most famous races, supposedly. All it was, was men in vehicles speeding and smashing into each other. He loved it. She hated it. After that, she never brought another video for him.

Suddenly, screaming came from within the junkyard. The voice sounded like a girl's, an older one too. Nancy ran towards it with him tailing right behind her. They soon found an old plump girl in a faded sundress, flopping around in her flip-flops, with a broom raised up in the air. "GIT! GIT!" The old girl yelled. "You darned things." Her heavy legs looked unshaven, but were barely noticeable in the shadow under her dress. She obviously didn't seem to care much about appearance, but her hair, curiously, seemed to be nicely done. The old girl had a big mop of permed brown curls plopped underneath a wide-brimmed hat. She stood on the edge of a small porched house, shaking a broom at the night sky. "GIT! You sky rats. GIT!"

Alex approached the old girl. "Sister Bertie," he said softly, putting his hands in his pockets. The old girl stopped and dropped the broom. She then balanced the glasses on her nose, before giving her aged eyes a moment to look him over.

"Little Blue-Eyes?" The old girl asked.

He nodded back.

In church school, he had told me, the little girls all called the old girl, "Sister Birdy." He was late in figuring out that wasn't her real name. Her pet parakeet in the classroom didn't help with that. But the sister didn't mind, she had nicknames for all the girls, and him too. And he got the job of cleaning the bird cage, usually. The only boy in class tended to get all the attention.

"God and Holy Mary, you got big," the old girl said. "Come here." Dropping the broom and stretching out her arms wide, and giving a smile just as big, she pulled him in for a hug. The old sister only came up to his chin.

"You smell like roses," the sister commented with a sniff.

"I'm not wearing any cologne, sister."

"Just a figure of speech, my little Blue-Eyes."

"What were you doing?" he asked, after finally getting her to release him.

"Oh, just chasing away those sky rats. They make a ruckus on my house all night long if I let them."

"Sky rats?"

"Bats. I just like to call them that when I'm mad."

There weren't any bats that Nancy saw. The old sister must have chased them away, figured Nancy, or maybe the old girl was just yelling at nothing.

"Now," the old sister said, massaging her veiny hands, "Who's the girl? She looks like she fell out of the back of a truck and kept rolling down the street."

"Um, this is Nancy. She got into a fight."

"Oh, a tough girl living on the streets, I bet."

"No," Nancy spoke up finally. "I'm a social agent. Getting beat up is a part of my job."

"A safety maid?"

"Yes, a safety maid." She cringed as she said it herself.

"Sister Bertie, we came to..." Alex lost his words for a second before Nancy overtook him and said, "We need a favor. We want you to marry us, sister." _So we can be done with this nonsense quickly and for good_. Nancy had work to do.

The old sister stood in silence for a second, looked at him, and then at Nancy, before speaking again, "Is this a trick?" A hint of worry appeared in the old girl's eyes. "This can't be legal, can it safety maid?"

"No," she answered flatly, "not really. But it's fine."

"Oh, well, then let me make double sure about something." The old girl wrung her hands nervously. "So, both of you came here, at night, to see me, so that I would marry you? Is that right?"

"Yes," answered Alex.

"Yes, sister," answered Nancy.

"Sorry, I had to make sure. When you get my age, you sometimes wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you. Well, I suppose I can. A safety maid can't arrest herself, can she?"

"No, and no one will arrest you," Nancy said, "We just want you to conduct the ceremony."

The old sister picked up the broom again. "You know, I had a dream once..." The old girl walked onto her porch and began sweeping. "about a girl and a boy getting married. Except I remember, I was the girl getting married, and I was a lot younger too, and thin. My mother was there, God bless her, and all my sisters too. The boy, he loved me. I knew he did, though I can't remember his face. I guess that's because I never had a boy to remember. And there was an old sister performing the ceremony too, very old, and very fat." The sister tapped on her belly. "Somehow I knew it was a secret marriage too, like from _Romeo and Juliet_ , but I never knew why. It didn't make sense." She paused for a moment and rubbed the thin bristles above her top lip. "But now I know," she said, with an odd certainty in her voice. "I wasn't the girl, I was really the old sister. Sometimes dreams don't make sense the way you want them to." The old girl laughed, almost too much, and had to wipe a tear from her eye. "God and Holy Mary, it's dusty out here," said the old sister. "Well let's go in." The old sister turned and opened the door, before flopping on her feet inside. She made sure to sweep her path as she went.

"Okay." He replied as he held out his hand to Nancy. She thought about grabbing it, but instead she just pointed forward and then walked. He followed behind.

The inside of the sister's home had a comfortable feeling to it. Even the thick aroma of flowers and vegetation in the air only tickled Nancy's nose gently. Nancy felt relaxed, for the first time today. She exhaled as she sank into the button-cushioned couch, and toyed with the idea of letting herself fall asleep. Her body was tired, she knew that, and her advantage levels were getting weaker and weaker. She really wanted to rest, but she didn't have much time.

He moved about with more energy though, as he looked over the framed pictures on the wall. The old sister had placed school pictures from every year she had taught in church school. The pictures filled up the entire wall.

On the coffee table, a propped up image sat of Sister Bertie, much younger than the old girl was now, holdings hands with a Mother Superior. Behind them was a gigantic wall painting of the fiery heart of God with a crown of thorns placed around it. The Mother Superior looked particularly familiar to Nancy, and it only took her a few seconds to recognize the girl. "That's the Mother Most Superior, _"_ Nancy said aloud. "You know the Mother Most Superior?"

"Well," said the old sister, "I met her once. She was just Mother Molly back then before she started to demand all the sisters call her Mother Carnation, after her last name. She wanted her name to sound more serious. But all the sisters started calling her Mother Damnation instead."

"Mother Damnation?"

"Oh, they never said it where the mother could hear it, of course not. No, a girl didn't want to get on her bad side, ever. Mother Molly always liked to remind the sisters, whenever she found the opportunity, that they were all standing on the edge of hell, and were likely to fall into it unless the sisters obeyed her instructions. She was strict, but Mother Superiors should be, I suppose. She never laughed. But she never cried either. Carnation had no use for emotions. Her heart was as solid as a rock."

"There I am," said Alex, pointing at a picture.

Sister Bertie moved next to him, placing her hand on his back. "The only boy in class, my little Blue-Eyes. You were the fastest runner in the class, do you remember that?"

"Yeah, sure. The girls used to think I was a freak or something, and refused to race me."

"Of course, they weren't used to playing with boys. They didn't know what it meant."

The old sister pointed at the next picture in the row. "The next year there were three boys," then she continued in order, "then seven, then more and more each year. My last year," she said with a finger towards the last picture, "almost half my class were boys. But you're my first." The old sister reached up and messed his hair. "My little blue-eyes."

Sister Bertie then twirled around in her dress and left the room. A moment later, her muted voice came from the kitchen. "One-minute dears, I'll be back with some treats."

Nancy sat up on the couch. "We should talk about where you should go now."

"It doesn't matter," He turned and looked at Nancy. "As long as we stick together."

"I have work to do, and you know that. I don't have time to go off with you."

"Nancy, listen to me, we should stay together. You're in bad shape. I can tell that something is very wrong. I heard you on the phone."

"I'm not going to argue with you, Alex. You're in the protection program and I'm giving the orders. Take the long-term transit out of the city. Go south until you are out of the state, then head east until you reach the coastline. Stay at a hotel there. There shouldn't be many people this time of year. It will be nice."

"I'm not going alone. You said you hated the beach anyway."

"Go wherever you want. It doesn't matter. Just get out of the state at least. I'm not going with you, so get used to it. Also, when you need to get cash from your debt-card, do it only once. Get as much as you can out, and make it last."

"Won't they be able to track that?"

"Yes, but only once at that station. After that, you'll be using cash."

"There's probably--"

"Take the maximum. Make it last."

"What about you?"

"I have a friend who will help me."

"Talky?"

"It doesn't matter who, and you don't need to know."

The door to living room pushed open, and Sister Bertie came in with a plate in her hands. There were two glass drinks, two halved pears, and some cucumber slices. "It's all I have. Sorry. I haven't had guests in a while."

Nancy took a glass, when the plate was offered to her and sniffed it. "This is wine."

"Oh, it won't hurt you. I promise, my dear. I drink one glass every day, or two, or three sometimes... who counts? It's good for you."

Nancy sipped the wine and said nothing back. She wanted to be polite.

Sister Bertie asked, "Have you two thought about where you want to perform the ceremony?"

"Anywhere is fine," answered Nancy.

"I think at a park somewhere would be good," he said.

"No. Inside. We don't want people to see us."

"How about in my garden?" Mentioned the old sister. "It's fenced in. It would be just my vegetables and you two, surrounded by God and Holy Mary's junk."

"Fine," she answered.

"And we will need a dress I think, my dear."

"I don't need a dress."

"I have one I think you will like. A green satin one covered in red roses. It was my sister's, and she only wore it once, a long time ago."

"This is ridiculous. We aren't taking pictures."

"Now, now, I'm not going to marry you unless you take it seriously. A girl who doesn't want to dress up isn't serious."

"Nancy, wear the dress," he said.

Nancy groaned, "Show it to me."

In the sister's bathroom, Nancy looked at herself in the mirror. The old sister was shuffling through her hair, trying to fix what she could. Nancy was much too tall for the old girl, so the sister had to stand on a stool. The dress, itself, was fine, better than fine actually, but the bride to be had a swollen nose that was starting to a turn a deep blue. Not only that, she saw scratches on her face, she had never noticed before. Her face reminded her of her mother. _Mother, I'm really you._ She definitely looked a mess, but at least the dress fit well on her, and it was a nice distraction from her face, her wretched face. This whole thing was pointless anyway, she reminded herself, but the sister and he had insisted.

Sister Bertie said, "We'll need too much time with your hair, I'm afraid. But I've got a way to fix it quickly."

"What?"

"A wig." The old sister pulled up her permed curls to show her scalp. "I have a lot to choose from. Brunette, blonde, short, long, and oh, I even have a red-headed one. It depends on my mood," she winked at Nancy, "I'm a new person every day." And Nancy had thought the old girl just took care of her hair and forgot the rest.

The old sister soon returned after picking a dark brunette wig with long smooth locks.

"I think this one was meant for you," she said as she fit it on Nancy's head.

The long hair came down to her shoulders. She hadn't seen herself with hair this long since she was a young girl.

"You look...," the old sister paused for a moment.

"I look what?"

"Dangerous. It's what I would wear if I felt dangerous."

_No_ , she thought, _I look like some girl's_ ragdoll. And right then, Nancy knew what she would be wearing into the city. No one would see Social Agent Rose in this outfit.

"Aren't I supposed to look beautiful on my wedding day?" Nancy asked.

"Well, that too, but we have to work with what we got, dear," said the old Sister, combing Nancy's new hair with her fingers. "Your little bump on your nose is no big deal. It will be shaded well in the garden, just so you know."

"I'll need to borrow this outfit a little longer, the dress and the wig, sister."

"May I ask why?"

"For work, sister."

"Well, I can't say that the dress does not suit you. And that wig fits you fine. Much better than me. God and Holy Mary, if you need to borrow them--"

"Thank you."

They all gathered in Sister Bertie's garden later. The moon was nowhere to be seen, and it was very dark outside in the junkyard. The only light came from strings of Christmas lights that had been strewn around the garden area. Alex stood under the lattice roof, picking at the pink flowers that hung from vines above him. He was dressed the same, except for an ugly tie the old sister had managed to find for him. Of course, he hadn't tied it right, and a wad of a knot held it around his neck. When he turned and saw Nancy finally, he said to her, "You look like a different girl." That brought a slight smile to Nancy's face, but she wasn't sure why.

Sister Bertie had the Holy Bible cradled in her arms, but she never opened it. The old Sister simply had Nancy and Alex repeat vows to each other. The old girl knew them by heart like she had been practicing them. Nancy stumbled through her vows. She had never heard them before. _So what_ , she told herself, _this was just make-believe_.

"So, done?" Nancy asked, after the old sister stopped.

"Well, _now_ , you may kiss the groom."

Nancy started to move in, but he was faster, grabbed her up in his arms and placed his lips on hers. She nearly lost her breath. The old sister giggled as she walked back inside. Nancy felt weaker suddenly, and she might have collapsed there, if he wasn't holding her up. No rest can do that to a girl. Nancy finally pushed him off.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Sure." She was really feeling the drop in advantage formula now. Her levels were dropping faster than she had expected. "I'm just really tired."

"Then why don't we go to sleep?" He brushed the wig's hair out of her eyes.

"Oh." Nancy almost forgot. "Hold this for me." She took off her diamond ring necklace and handed it to him. "Don't lose it. I'll be back for it after work is done." _No, I won't. I'll probably be dead. So it's yours now_. He tightened his fist around it and put it in his pocket.

"I want you to stay with me." He stared deeply into her eyes, holding her there gently.

She was getting tired of hearing that. "I need to make a call." She left him there in the sister's fenced garden, hearing only a grumble of an "okay" coming from him.

All the sounds of traffic had died off by now, and a decent chill was in the air, which she felt in every nook and cranny on her body due to the thin satin dress. When the wind blew, it felt like she wasn't wearing anything at all. She took cover near the big oak.

She pulled the old phone and battery out, and just stared at it, wondering if she should try calling Lily again. Lily could track her and come get her for sure, but, also, so could the general or Foxglove, or anybody else that might be looking for her. The red-headed silly girl was the only Social Agent in the city she could really trust since Lilac was gone. But Lily was a terrible field agent to count on, well, according to Lilac. Nancy also knew she could be putting Lily in danger. _No_ , she thought, _that_ _'s a bad idea_.

Foxglove was the girl in charge now, her and her black gloves and boots, and that big mocking grin, sitting behind Marigold's desk. The image of that in Nancy's mind made her fume. But that's the way it was, she told herself. Foxglove murdered the director, wrote a dumb note, and then took Lilac's job. And for sure, the black-haired girl was going to be named the new director too, just like the girl had said she would one day. Nancy still had a hard time believing it. Foxglove had been working with the Sicarii. Had she always been? That was tough to accept, even for a girl like Foxglove. The girl that hated everyone that she saw as a rival, must see all men that way too. But Nancy had to admit, that she hadn't ever heard the girl say anything negative about men ever. _Foxglove kept her feelings secret_ , she supposed.

Lilac had warned Nancy before, "there's a reason we never find them." The US Social Agents must have Sicarii sympathizers working on the inside. No wonder Nancy found so few friends at work. She was "boycrazy" and they all must have known about her secret with Alex, her stupid affair, that she should had known better than to have.

Right before putting the phone and battery away, the image of Alex's yellow flower that hung on his wall popped into Nancy's head. _Dandelion_. The sub-director of the west coast was probably Nancy's best bet for help. _I should call her_. No doubt, Dandelion must be wondering what was going on too. She was a good social agent, maybe even the best. And if any girl should be behind Marigold's desk, it should be her, not Foxglove. Nancy slid the battery into the phone and powered it up.

After connecting to the operator, Nancy requested a line to US Social Agent Phyllis Dandelion. Nancy gave her emergency code again, just like before, and waited. A few brief seconds passed before a stiff voice came from the phone. "Social Agent Rose, where are you?" A sharp gust of wind blew, forcing Nancy to hold down her dress and crouch down before she was able to answer. "Dandelion, I can't talk long. I want you to track this phone and come get me."

"Well, of course, my dear. I can send girls immediately."

"No. Wait. Track it when I activate it again. Then come find me."

"Now this is silly. Everyone is already looking for you--"

"I know, I know, that's why I want you to wait. When you see this signal pop up again, come get me. Then we can talk."

"Rose, I think we should talk now. It will take just a minute to locate the signal--"

"Sorry. Trust me on this."

Nancy shut off the phone and removed the battery. She felt another level of advantage formula drop again, right when the wind died down. The pain caused by her busted nose intensified more. She was feeling exhausted, but she had one more thing to do before she could rest. Nancy grabbed her handgun and disassembled it, making sure to take out the firing pin. She buried the pieces under a junked red and white pick-up truck and threw the pin. She made sure he wasn't looking too. After making sure the gun was safely covered, she said goodbye to her old nine-point-nine, and walked away.

The moon eventually returned to the night sky, shining down over the junkyard, reflecting itself off all the line-up windshields. Nancy found Alex sitting in the driver's seat of an old luxury sedan that was sitting on blocks. He held onto the steering wheel, as he watched the moon slowly move above the top of the nearby treeline. The moon was almost full tonight. _Two more days left_ , guessed Nancy.

"Going somewhere?" She asked him, as she slid into the passenger seat.

"Sure, where to _my_ wife?"

She wasn't sure how she felt about that, being called "wife," so she told him, "Call me Nancy. Remember it's a secret."

"Right."

She buckled herself in, out of habit. He wasn't wearing his though, so she reminded him, "Safety belt, please."

He smiled back at her, and said, "We're pretending."

"I know that you don't even know how to drive. Safety belt, please."

"Okay, safety maid." He put his seatbelt on.

"Thank you," said Nancy, as she wiped the windshield on her side. "So, where are you taking me, sir."

"Don't know yet. I was thinking about just driving all night. Until we are far away from the city as we can get, and it's just us alone together."

"Sounds good to me, as long as I can sleep the whole way."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Today was good. Tomorrow will be better," she whispered, as her eyes began to weaken.

"You're not going to sleep, are you? Nancy?"

Nancy didn't answer him, and she let her eyes close. She heard him groan to himself before she was gone...

Nancy awoke to the glare of the morning sun in her eyes. The sun had just started making its way over the northeastern treetops, turning the roofs of the abandoned suburban homes a bright orange in the distance. Far off, the sounds of traffic had begun again too. The noise reminded Nancy that she was not that far from the city.

"Good morning, Nancy." Alex's eyes were a clear blue sky in the morning. They were also asking for a kiss. So she pecked him on his forehead. She felt better now after resting; she was still weak, but better. There were no bad dreams either last night, or, at least, she couldn't remember if she dreamt one. There had never been a time, now that she thought about it, where she had a bad dream waking up beside him. He was good luck guessed Nancy.

After a shower in Sister Bertie's house, she checked herself over in the mirror, and straightened her satin dress and corrected her wig. The old sister had also given Nancy some matching heels to go with the outfit too. She wanted to look tight, as best she could, before going back into the city. Her nose still looked horrible, but that was out of her control. Sister Bertie had tried some make-up, but it hadn't helped much.

Alex was waiting on the porch when she came out. She knew what was coming next, and she hated it, but it had to be done. He struggled with the tie, which was still around his neck from last night. The knot he had created was proving to be too difficult to simply be tugged apart by him. Nancy gently pushed his fingers away and began working carefully to undo it.

She told him, as she worked, "I have to go, Alex."

"Nancy," he said, "Listen to me, you're in trouble--"

"No, I have to work." There was a chill in her words.

He stumbled over his only word in response, "But-t."

Nancy placed a hand against his cheek, softly. "Pretend time is over." Her eyes were dry and serious. "I agreed to the fake wedding like you wanted me to, only to get you out of the city. It was my duty and _only_ my duty."

"Yes I know, but Nancy--"

"Alex, I was wrong for what I did with you. Everything was wrong about it. I was a social agent. And, I'm still a social agent, so I'm ordering you to never call me, never look for me, ever again." She hated saying those words, but she had to. It was the only way to make sure he was safe. He wouldn't understand that, for sure, but it was all for his own good. Nancy pulled the knot apart, and let the tie hang loose around his neck. "There you go, sweetie. We're done."

Not waiting for another word from him, she turned and marched away. She didn't care really. Maybe his feelings were hurt a little, but at least he'd be safe. Boys tended to overreact emotionally, anyway. Besides he was getting in the way of her work. She was going back to the city, where it was dangerous, and she was going to stop the Queen of Spades by herself if she had to-even if it meant dying in the attempt. _I might be the only social agent that can stop her._ Yet, when she heard a hushed, "be careful Nancy," coming from behind her, a sudden cramp grew in her stomach. _It's the advantage levels dropping_ , she told herself, _it must be_. _I don't have much time._ She walked on.

Great Calamity

(seven years ago)

The cadets awoke to a door slam.

She brightened her eyes and checked her tie on her uniform. The instructors liked to slam the door on purpose to keep the girls awake during movie time. Sleeping during class was not tolerated, nor was slouching in their chair. The assistant instructors liked to wade in-between the desks, slapping girls on their back, to straighten them, or for amusement. Nancy was always correct, she was never sloppy.

The classroom was lit up only by the television. The _History of the Great Calamity_ was playing again. The instructors played this whenever the cadets needed to be disciplined, mostly for being too chatty. At least, that's the way the girls saw it. Sometimes, it seemed they played the video just for fun when the instructors wanted to take a break. The girls had to sit up straight, awake, and in silence through the whole program regardless. Cadet Daisy had a ripple of snot slowly draining out her nose. She didn't dare try to wipe it, and she kept her hands flat on the desk and face forward, as all girls did. That girl, Daisy, was always on the verge of crying and was always sickly. Girls that cry were weak. Nancy kept herself straight, silent, and still.

The last great war produced the super-virus, the "Great Calamity," right on the verge of nukes being fired between the superstates. And it spread rapidly, starting in the Chinese mainland, and then through Eurasia. America was hit with her first case within two weeks. Each side blamed the other for the super-virus as states like to do. The positive thing about the virus, if a girl could see a positive thing, was that it stopped the war. The men on all sides were being annihilated, and there was no point in fighting anymore. Even now, the girls couldn't agree on why the war started. After two months, the super-virus had taken the entire world. The men couldn't hide, not even in the polar caps, as the male scientists there were affected and died. The cadets were supposed to learn about the morality of war from this program. And so the girls did, in a way, but the girls also learned that the superstates never gave up their nukes, not even when the they were taken over by the girls, politics continued.

Once infected, the men died within days, depending on their condition. Old boys went fast, but the younger ones could hold out for a week or more. They died with more pain. Within six months, every boy and man were gone.

On a Saturday afternoon in June, the last man died. It was televised for months after that, playing on television regularly, so every girl had seen him. His name was Hugo Flores. An avalanche of flowers surrounded his hospital bed, and network cameras stacked in as thick as they could. He was just a simple man, a farmer from a small village in Argentina. Divorced with no children, but his ex-wife was there holding his hand. Beside them was a sister in her habit holding her rosary beads. Sister Miranda would become the world's first Mother Most Superior. Nancy knew that because it was always a test question. His death happened live, broadcast across the world. When he spoke his last words, that's when the instructors liked to return, so they could search each cadet's eyes for tears. They liked to shame girls caught crying.

"My mother...," Hugo started, "I remember my mother ... she said I would be important one day. I didn't know ... I didn't know." When his eyes closed, the picture cut to a blonde newscaster, barely functional, overcome with feelings. She only said, "That was... that was..." Then the picture cut to black. Nancy had seen this before, many times. All girls had, but she wouldn't cry. Daisy would, she always did. Yet, the instructors didn't walk in. Instead they let the credits roll.

The cadets all began to whisper to each other. Daisy took a chance and wiped her face on her sleeve. Then the assistant instructor smacked open the door, finally.

"Cadet Nancy Rose. Report to Commandant Primrose. Your mother is here to see you."

The girls whirled around to look at Nancy. Some snickered, others looked with horror. Daisy sniffled and just stared with red eyes. Nancy knew a visit from her mother was a bad sign.

The commandant's office was a long march. She took her time through the main square though, skipping over puddles in her black strapped shoes. No one was holding formations now, so it was a barren area, and she was all alone. Her mother never came unless there was something wrong. When she started military school, just a month after she bled, she got in a fight with a girl almost twice her size. At least that's how she remembered her. The fat girl said something cocky to her and then pushed Nancy on her ass. There was no good reason for it, the fat girl just didn't like Nancy.

"Roses all stink," the fat girl had said, looking down at Nancy.

"Roses don't stink," that's all she could think to answer her. Not witty at all, but she was just thirteen at the time.

Later, little Nancy found the fat girl in the cafeteria. She was eating and laughing between bites. Nancy remembered that she was with another girl, one that died by falling off a rope and breaking her neck. The girl was named Mary, a frail girl, the same age as Nancy. She also remembered the fat girl laughing about her too.

Nancy had moved through the cafeteria table lanes stealthily and deliberately, making her way to the fat girl's table. Holding her metal tray tightly in her hands, she struck the back of the fat girl's head with it. The fat girl reacted in a rage. Striking away with their trays, she and the girl sent potatoes and stew flying into the air. The other girls all started screaming. When it was all done, they were both being pulled away. The fat girl had a smashed nose, bloody and broken. Nancy had only bits of food on her uniform; she was unhurt. That was the first, and only time, her mother had to be called to the school. She was almost kicked out, under just one month, but the other girls testified that the fat girl was a bully. Daisy said Nancy was a hero. Her mother wasn't pleased anyway. But Nancy got to stay. The fat girl was moved to another school. No one seemed to mind, not even the instructors, though some girls called Nancy, "hero," with contempt under their breath from time to time.

The commandant's office was up high on a hill overlooking an orchard of peach trees. Occasionally, while in season, the commandant would let the cadets pick their fill. But only the girls about to graduate could, for the younger cadets it was a forbidden fruit, though a thief was hardly punished if caught.

In her office, Commandant Primrose stood stern and joyless, but that was always the way she was. Next to her was Nancy's mother, a faint touch of humor showing on her face, brushing her blonde locks back from her blue-green eyes, a beautiful girl, not dour or hard chinned like the commandant.

"Cadet Rose," Primrose said properly, "Your mother, First Lieutenant Rose, has something to tell you. Normally, I would advise waiting after the school day, but she flew all this way here for an important message. A surprise." Primrose almost wanted to crack a grin, but she held it back, "Therefore, well, Lieutenant, you should tell your daughter."

"Nancy, you won," her mother said, then snatched her off the ground.

Nancy coughed in the hug, "What?"

"You won the lottery, Nancy."

She staggered backward after she was released.

"You are getting married, cadet," the Commandant said, rolling her eyes.

"Mother," and that's all she said back.

Her mother was ecstatic, nearly jumping out of her low-cut heels, "We will have to hurry, Nancy. We need to plan. I have a mission starting next spring."

"You're going to the moon? Finally?" She didn't know how to handle everything. She just shot it out.

Her mother just nodded, her happy expression warming the room.

"Very well, Cadet Rose. You may take a leave with your mother for the rest of the day and tomorrow." The commandant stiffly walked to her office door with a very careful, well no one would call it a smile, Primrose didn't like to break face after all, just something less than a frown, "You have plans to discuss, I imagine, hero." She said that like she hated the last word; then left the room.

"So, Cadet," her mother said, "let's have lunch and talk about it."

The day couldn't have been more perfect, when she thought about it. She was getting a husband, and her mother was getting the moon. She wanted to cry, but her mother was there.

Madam Greenthumb

A sudden wind caught the satin dress as Nancy proceeded down the sidewalk in the china sector, catching her off-guard. She patted the skirt down as best she could, trying to keep the hem from flying up and exposing herself too much. "Damn it," she muttered to herself. She began to really regret borrowing the old dress from Sister Bertie. In fact, the whole outfit, including the dark wig, had turned out to be more of a chore than she had first imagined. The only practical thing Nancy had borrowed from the sister was a single strap purse that hung from the shoulder.

The worst part, though, was the low-cut heels on her feet. Increasingly uncomfortable, they were nearly impossible for her walk in. She wanted to throw them away and just walk barefooted, but she knew she shouldn't, she needed to be a different person today. She needed to be just some girl dressed up like a fancy ragdoll, and not the Social Agent Nancy Rose. So she staggered on, bearing it, and grinding her teeth with every misstep.

All through the air, music played in the china sector, as it did every day. Nancy couldn't understand the words that were being sung, but she knew the china sector well enough to know it was traditional Chinese. Much like everything else in the sector, Talky's girls controlled the music that that got heard in the streets.

Up the sidewalk, behind a little stand, the one-eyed girl named Julep sat. The young girl was a front for Talky. She sold various junk from a little shop on the sidewalk, some legal, some not. A knife had gouged out her left eye years ago in some fight that the girl had never wanted to talk about to Nancy. Luckily for Julip, it was her weaker eye. Today, she was covering the wound up with a sea-blue patch. Usually, Julep was pleased to see Nancy, but today the girl viewed her curiously, not recognizing the social agent when she approached.

"Hello, sharp lady," said Julep, "Take a look. You won't be sorry."

"Do you have a song by Madam Greenthumb?" Nancy asked.

The one-eyed girl's face became stunned. She looked intently at Nancy in the satin dress with her only eye. Nancy winked at the girl from under her long dark wig. The young girl winked back, with her one eye, and said, "Who the heck are you?"

Nancy stared the girl down with a small crinkle of a smile, giving the girl more time to really see. The girl finally said, "Oh, safety maid?"

Nancy made a shush gesture with her index finger to her lips. "Quiet, Julep. I'm looking for a song by Madam Greenthumb. Do you have one?"

"You came to the right place, lady. I'm the only one that knows Madam Greenthumb."

"Tell her I'm ready to hear her song."

The girl turned and signaled. Another young girl, bigger and burlier, in a black t-shirt, approached. After Julip whispered into the girl's ear, the bigger one left. The one-eyed girl then immediately took out a pack of cards, and said to the social agent, "Okay, sharp lady, let's play a hand or two." The girl started dealing to Nancy. The first card was the ten of spades, followed by the eight of spades.

The one-eyed girl asked, as she dealt, "You know where the Queens come from?"

"No, tell me."

"Another planet from outer space."

"Ah, I see." Nancy had heard this story before.

The one-eyed girl dealt Nancy another card, a nine of spades.

"It's true," the girl said, "they are all aliens, deep from space. They have snakeheads for heads and snakeskin for skin. They caused the "Great Calamity" because they were mad at men for going into outer space. Everybody knows that."

"A snake-headed alien should be easy to spot, don't you think?"

The girl dealt a five of clubs down, and Nancy arranged the card into her hand.

"They can take the form of any girl, that's how they control the government."

"The government is full of snake-headed shape-shifters? You'll get no argument from me."

The last card played was a jack of spades.

"Well, girls don't like to believe it. But it's all true. It's just too weird for some girls to believe. They don't want to accept the horrible truth."

"I've heard this 'horrible truth' before."

"How many cards?"

"One."

"Just one? Ah, a good hand. You should bet money. Next hand, I'll let you."

After the last card was dealt, Nancy threw down her hand; a straight with all spades except for one diamond, the queen of diamonds. The young girl showed her pair of fours.

"Oh, you won," said Julip, "You're so lucky."

"You rigged the deck again."

"No way, safety maid, I wouldn't do that. C'mon lets play again. Just a dollar bet this time..."

Overhead, the music changed. . .

_There's a rose in my garden on Tuesday, on Thursday I'll have two, but by the end, of the week my friend, I'll have no roses for you_.

Talky's girls played that old country song to let Talky know that Nancy was here. It also acted as a warning to all the girls that Nancy the safety maid was around.

The one-eyed girl flopped a card down. "Ok safety maid where's your dollar? Let's go."

Nancy peeked at her card and saw an ace of diamonds. The girl spoke again, "Why not bet? Go ahead if you want to."

"Social agents don't gamble." She took up the card and gave its back a lick, and then stuck the card on the girl's forehead.

"Oh, you want to play Indian Poker? Sure, we can do that," said the girl, raising her voice, as Nancy moved past her. The social agent ignored all the one-eyed girl's pleas to keep playing, and kept walking.

Under hanging tents, in the alleyway behind Julip, assorted merchandise was stacked up on top of other merchandise. Almost all of it, Nancy knew, was illegal in some way. She rarely pushed Talky's girls hard about that, unless she needed to. Besides today there was no time to bother with it. She had other work to do. As Nancy went past the burly girl, who had a lit cigarette hanging from her lips, she snagged it and slung it down to the cement, and crushed it under her heel. The girl whimpered, "Sorry, safety maid."

Turning the corner in an alleyway, little girls of different ages were scrambling with crates and cardboard boxes, all running away from Nancy. The most scandalous items of their contraband were being tucked away out of her sight as fast as they could do it. One girl, no older than eight years old, shouted with her hands up, on spotting the social agent. "Wait. You're supposed to wait."

"I can't honey, not today."

"Talky will be very mad."

With a pat on the girl's head, Nancy told the worried girl, "Don't worry about that. This is an emergency." She walked past the little girl down to the alley's end, where a brick stairwell led upward. Pulling up her dress a little higher, so her trim avoided the grime, she took the cement stairs. No girl ever cleaned the stairs, and that was on purpose, to make it look abandoned and unused. The stairs went about half a story high before they took a hard right into a shallow alleyway.

Twenty yards down, Nancy stopped at an old moldy wooden door. A girl's voice from above called down, "This is a dead-end lady. Are you lost?" Nancy looked up.

A little girl, known as Tila, ten years old if Nancy remembered right, glared down from a balcony. A scar crossed her left cheek, almost into an eye. The girl had tried to cover it up with makeup, but it was still noticeable, unfortunately. A black baseball cap covered her head. In her lap, she held a smoky-black cat, which she stroked on gently.

"I need to see Madam Greenthumb," said Nancy.

"Sorry, Madam Greenthumb is tired. She sings no more songs today."

"Tila, unlock the door now." Nancy lifted her wig enough for the girl to see the blonde hair below.

"Oh, safety maid," the girl said after taking a second to look, "Sorry, I heard your song, but didn't see you." Tila released the cat, and it bounded away from her. She followed closely behind it. A matter of seconds later, Nancy heard two clicks, and the door creaking open. A sudden scent of incense rushed from inside, and Tila stood in the doorway eyeing Nancy.

"You look sexy in that dress," Tila said, "You must be here to party."

"I'm not here to party."

"Who beat you up? Your nose looks wretched."

"Don't ask. Take me to Talky, now." Nancy's tone was serious.

"But why--"

"Now."

"Okay, okay, safety maid."

The girl turned on her rubber sneaker heels, and lead Nancy inside. Through a sheer curtain, they moved into a hallway, lined with incense candles. The smell was overwhelming, but she couldn't blame Talky for trying to make her compound smell sweeter than the china sector. The cat followed and zigzagged around Nancy's ankles, looking for a rub. She just ignored the creature, and took longer strides to step over it.

"Oh," Tila said, "Sorcerer missed you. Your disguise don't fool her."

"Good thing, I'm not hiding from Sorcerer."

"Who are you hiding from, safety maid?"

"Some bad girls."

"No problem. You're safe here with Talky."

The hallway ended at another curtain, one thin enough for the candlelight to show through, and help light the room beyond. Tila pushed the curtains open. Sorcerer shuffled through first, getting quickly lost to sight. The next room was filled with smoke. Nancy was certain it was from dragon dream. It had that unmistakable smell of burnt wood and lavender, but more obviously, it also had that slight red tint to its color. That's why the girls called it dragon dream, she supposed.

"Who is it?" Asked a slow voice as Nancy stepped into the room. "Oh, I know, sure I do, a girl has finally come to give me a kiss."

Through the mist, the first part of the china girl to be seen was her cat-like eyes, right above a wide grin, made of purple lips, always purple lips. In a slender hand, adorned with long fingernails the same shade as the lips, dangled a smoking bit from a water pipe. Talky, herself, had sunk deeply into the cushions of a couch with her pale legs crossed. A single white heel hung lazily from the toes of one foot.

"You are _so_ late," said Talky.

"Talky," said Nancy, "I need to know the source for the blood party."

"Hmmm, you not supposed to ask that, safety maid. You know the deal."

"We don't have--"

"But no problem. In fact, I've got something better for you. A lot better. One of your best buddies is here."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Big, tall girl. Military, I think. She was so worried about you. She demanded to know where you were."

Nancy concerned, asked Talky directly, "Where is she?"

"Sure, I'll show you." Talky waved the smoke away from her face. "But first, tell Talky about your new outfit. A little old school, but I like it... on you."

"It's a disguise, that's all."

"You should disguise yourself more often. Next time, I'll wear your safety maid uniform, and you can wear one of my skirts. And then I'll arrest you and take you to jail. It will be fun." Talky took a drag from her mouthpiece.

"Talky stop. What about the military girl?"

A long, smoky exhale funneled out of her nostrils, followed by a long sigh. "This is Talky's playtime now. You were late."

"You need to stop playing, right now."

"Okay, she came here looking for you. She wouldn't leave unless my girls let her in. So I let her in. She was kind'a bossy. I don't like bossy." Sorcerer leaped onto Talky's lap and began to purr as the china girl started to pet him.

"Sorcerer, he didn't like her either. When she started threatening me, he hissed at her. So I gave the bossy girl a little prick with my fingernail, right in the neck." She raised her left index finger up, revealing a chipped purple nail. "I keep a little vertigo on the tip. A strong batch. When it hits the blood, it's very fast. Sometimes, girls get dangerous here, and poor Talky has no guns. I have to protect myself, sure I do."

The drug Vertigo was a powerful hallucinogen, famous for its side effect of inverting vision. Eye doctors used it sparingly on some eye tests. Girls usually didn't take too much, just enough to distort their vision and get high. An overdose could be fatal. Girls had fallen to their death thinking the sky was below them and ground above them. This was why vertigo was banned, and why it was unsafe.

"Is she alive?" Nancy asked matter-of-factly.

"Sure she is," Talky said, "Let's go see your friend."

Talky released Sorcerer to the carpet and stood. The cat scampered off, slipping between Nancy's legs, and stirring the curtains behind her. Tila followed dutifully after the smoky-black animal as he playfully switched his tail all the way down the hallway.

Talky delicately placed her feet into her heels before moving gracefully over the carpet to another door in the room. The girl didn't move like she had gotten too muddled from her playtime, at least. "You've never been in the vault," said Talky coyly as she played with the handle. "This is where I put the girls that need to cool down." She opened the door.

The vault felt cooler than the rest of the compound. And it was also darker, only a lone night-light shined in the corner. Blankets covered the windows, only allowing a faint trickle of sunlight around the edges to come in. In the center, hanging upside down, was the body of a girl. She was tall, athletic, with a shaven head, her arms tied behind her back and her legs tied to a hook from the ceiling. _One of General Iris's Lieutenants_. The girl was asleep. A dribble of spit ran down her face.

"I need to talk to her," said Nancy.

"Time to wake up sleepy head." Talky pushed on the hanging girl, causing her body to swing back and forth. The lieutenant snapped her eyes open, and immediately yelled, "GOD AND HOLY MARY! What the fuck is going on?"

"You're having a bad ride," said the china girl. Talky rocked the hanging girl a little faster with another shove.

"Stop, please," pleaded the hung girl.

Talky snickered at her. "You shouldn't have pulled a gun on Talky. Now I've got you where I want you. And you've been so bad, doing drugs too. So a safety maid is here to arrest you."

"Safety maid?"

Talky continued to toy with the military girl, rocking her back and forth, giggling as she did it. The hanging girl shut her eyes, and eventually cried out, "STOP IT! PLEASE!"

"That's enough," said Nancy, and then she forced the body to come to a stop.

"You're no fun, safety maid," said Talky, walking away. Against the wall, Talky took a chair and lit up a cigarette. The faint glow of the burning ember highlighted her eyes and lips in the shadows as the girl watched.

"Hello _sweetie_ ," Nancy told the hanging girl, "You were looking for me. Now you've found me." She slung the dark wig off her head. "Remember?"

"Oh, fuck." The girl's face grimaced. "You're in deep shit, safety maid. The general wants you..." The girl paused and then thought better of what she should say. "The general wants to talk to you. Let me down."

"What's Iris planning? It's very strange, and very illegal, for the military to be in the condemned sector and in achilles suits too."

"Nothing. She's not planning nothing. You're crazy, safety maid."

"True," Talky spoke up, "She's a bit crazy. I know, sure I do. Once she..."

"Talky." And that's all Nancy had to say. Talky desisted and went back to her cigarette.

Nancy continued with her voice getting more impatient. "I want to know about the general. I want to know about the Sicarii. I want to know everything."

"Suck my cunt, safety maid. I'm not telling you shit."

Nancy kicked the girl hard in the stomach, sending her backward coughing and swearing. The tall girl groaned, "Fuck you." Talky could be heard sniggering from behind.

Nancy stopped the girl's swinging again. The social agent had no taste for cruelty; she just wanted information. She wasn't Foxglove after all. But Nancy couldn't let the girl know that. The girl had to think the worst was possible. "You know," said Nancy, "a social agent always gets the truth from a girl, eventually. It doesn't matter how tough a girl thinks she is. You need to decide how bad you want it to get before you give me what I want. Don't let yourself end up messed up for life, sweetie."

"Then we got a problem," the girl grumbled. "I don't know nothing, safety maid."

"Well, we're going to have an awful time then," said Nancy, sober in tone.

Turning to Talky, Nancy ordered the china girl, "Leave the room."

Talky begged, "But I want to see, Nancy."

"Get out of here now." After those blunt words, Talky listened and got up. The girl flicked her cigarette into a bucket, leaving a trail of smoke rising out of it. Talky slammed the door behind her as she left.

Nancy tore the hanging girl's shirt off. There were no tattoos, no markings, nothing; just her petty tits hanging there. _Is she really a member of the Sicarii_? Nancy had to wonder. But the military did have a low tolerance for tattoos. The general, herself, had none as well, as the dark-browed girl had so willingly revealed to Nancy. Tattoos must not make a Sicarii necessarily, at least not for the ones in the military, she deduced.

"No one's going to blame you for confessing to a social agent. Every girl does," said Nancy in a soothing way, "I want to save you. But you got to help me first."

"Save me?" said the girl, "Who's gonna save you?"

"A social agent doesn't need saving, that's our job."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Tell me your name," said Nancy.

"Lieutenant Debra Flax of the United American Army."

"Ever killed before?"

"You looking for a confession?"

"Yes, I am." Nancy stepped back, turned, and then walked over to the wall by the bucket. "Listen, Lieutenant Flax, and you better listen too, some girls confess to the sisters, and some don't. But all girls confess to social agents."

Nancy plucked up Talky's burning cigarette out of the bucket. Its ember was still red hot. "You smoke?" Nancy asked, blowing on the tip to stir it up.

"Nope."

"Good, neither do I." She returned to the hanging girl, cigarette smoldering in her hand. "Cigarettes are unsafe for girls."

"I don't know nothing. I told you."

"A tough soldier like you won't mind a few burns to find out, will she?" She let the heat of the ember flirt near the skin on the girl's chest. The girl shivered.

"Safety maids don't do this," said Flax, half unsure of her words.

"I wish that was true. But girls like you and me, well..."

"Well? Well what?"

She forced the tip onto her right breast. Flax gave out a little whimper as she clenched her teeth. "I'm going to put the next one on your nipple. Unless you tell me about the general... and the Sicarii... and everything else you know that you should tell me. Tell me now. So I can save you."

The girl grunted, "The general's gonna find you, safety maid. She's got girls looking in every sector of the city. She's gonna make you pay for what you did to her face."

Nancy pressed the cigarette deeply into the hanging girl's nipple as promised. Flax squealed in pain. A tear came from her eye and went down her forehead.

"Oh, don't cry. Soldiers don't cry." Nancy pulled the cigarette off.

"Fuck'n cunt. Daughter-of-a-whore. You're crazy." The girl talked tough as she could with a sniffle.

"C'mon, let me save you," restated Nancy again. She moved the cigarette near the other nipple.

"I don't know nothing, really. They have a special thing planned this Sunday. I don't know the details. They just said they were gonna fix things, for good."

_Now we are getting somewhere_ , thought Nancy. "I thought you didn't 'know nothing' sweetie?"

"I don't, the Queens have the plan. They got a thing, something. They are gonna get rid of men for good."

"What do they have?"

"I don't know."

Nancy pressed the cigarette into the other nipple. Debra squirmed, holding her mouth shut, trying not to cry out. Nancy held it for a second before pulling back. The tall girl exhaled.

"Okay," Nancy asked once again, "What. Do. They. Have?"

"I don't know. I swear it. They are bringing it to the city, this Sunday."

"Why Sunday?"

"It's just what I heard."

"Tell me who the other Queens are? What're their names? General Iris and..."

"I..." The girl stopped. "I don't know their names."

Nancy played with the cigarette in her hand. "I thought you wanted to be saved?"

"Stop burning me, please."

"It's the social agent that chooses when it's time to stop, not the suspect. The fastest way a girl can stop an interview is to confess everything. It's that easy."

Nancy gently caressed Flax's face, looking into the girl's watery eyes. _Please let it stop. I have no time to draw this out. I want to turn a confession quickly_. Nancy moved the cigarette's lit end close to the girl's eyes, making them shine off the ember, and let it waver there. "I bet you were a pretty girl with those big brown eyes when you were little."

"Don't."

"Don't what? I'm just looking."

"Please."

_Please don't call my bluff_ , she thought. She stared the girl down hard. "It's time you tell me everything. It's okay, every girl does. Just tell the truth. How long has Social Agent Foxglove been working for the sicarii? And who else is at the Department of Safety?"

"Foxglove? That fucking cunt isn't a true girl. The Queen of Spades has wanted her head for a trophy ever since she knocked one of her favorites down an elevator shaft and let the elevator crush her to make sure she was dead."

"Bullshit. You're covering for her. I know what Foxglove did."

"Whatever, safety maid. That's the truth. The general doesn't even know why they let that bitch be a safety maid, honest."

"Iris? She's the Queen of Spades?"

"Yeah, she calls herself the Queen of Spades, sometimes. Sometimes she says there's no Queens and everyone's just a soldier of the Sicarii. She was pissed when you fucked her up in the shower. So she sent me after you. She wants you dead."

"Who are the other Queens?"

Yet, before the girl could blurt out another word, the door flung open. Talky skipped in on her heels from the light. The China girl announced, with concern in her voice, "Didn't you hear the music, safety maid? Oh, I forgot, sure I did, you're in the vault. Sorry, street music doesn't come in here too good. The girls are playing Abandon Ship."

"What?" Nancy asked.

"Okay..." Talky pulled her tech-phone out, "take a look."

A video flicked on the screen showing the nearby street and the one-eyed girl's shop. Standing in front of Julip was Foxglove in her uniform with playing cards in her hand. Beside the black-haired social agent was Social Agent Jasper. Foxglove suddenly sneered at the little girl before throwing the playing cards into her face. Julip turned and ran.

"You see?" Talky said. "It's the mean one."

"Yeah, it's time to go," answered Nancy. "Can you get me out of here?"

"Of course, Nancy. No problem."

Nancy moved to the bucket and tossed the cigarette back in. She wondered if the military girl had been telling the truth about Foxglove. If so, that meant Foxglove murdered the director just for selfish reasons, just so she could sit behind Marigold's desk. Nancy wasn't sure what it all meant yet. The black-haired social agent might not be working with the Sicarii, but she couldn't be trusted, regardless. _Foxglove's too dangerous,_ thought Nancy.

As she stepped out the door, Nancy told the hanging girl, "Good luck, sweetie," with a little sadness in her voice. Foxglove wouldn't be as gentle as Nancy had been with the Sicarii. The social agent and the china girl left the room, shutting the door, leaving the hanging girl behind in the dark.
Baby Junkie

Nancy rode out of the china sector in the back seat of Talky's car, a brand new black sedan. The girl had been doing well for herself it seemed. The vehicle's body had a shell integrated with solar paneling, known as "solar skin," not cheap. Everything, in fact, about the car shouted expensive and upper class. Talky must have chosen every luxury option on the buyer's list. Even the air vents had been upgraded, and were installed with a synthetic-leather covering. Nancy would have to remind herself someday, and soon, to have another talk with Talky about spending money again, that's for sure. The china girl needed to be reminded what her limits were in the game she played with Nancy. Talky's flaunting would not look good on the social agent.

Little Tila drove, illegally, but Nancy held her tongue for now. Other pressing issues were more important, and besides, the little girl was doing a fine job, surprisingly. She must have been practicing for some time now with Talky.

In the back seat beside Nancy, Talky sat with her pale legs crossed, and with a compact mirror propped up in her hand. The china girl checked her makeup over. "Keep the car steady, little T," directed Talky. "We're going to see Baby, and I want to look good."

"Yes, Talky," said the little girl, dutifully.

Baby, or Baby Junkie, as the girl had been nicknamed, was the only dealer with a direct connection to Miss Moneybags, who allegedly bankrolled the whole drug trade in the city. Baby was actually Page Tulip, a twenty-year-old girl, who was once just a regular user. When the girl found out she could have all she wanted without spending a cent of her own, she started dealing herself. Now, the girl was known as the top dealer in the city.

Miss Tulip had a reputation of enjoying as much of the drugs as she sold. The lower-class girls saw Baby as some sort of happy-go-lucky drug dealer, and, as Nancy had been told, Miss Tulip could be _very_ _friendly_ with her clients. But there was another side, or so Talky had told Nancy, if a girl caught Baby sober, and not in a happy mood, the girl could be quite a different person. Talky had admitted her suspicions to Nancy before, that Baby might have been involved in the assassination of Madam Greenthumb, the former top dealer of the city, but Talky had no real proof. Old Greenthumb had taken Talky off the streets of the china sector, many years ago, when Talky was as young as little Tila was now. Talky liked to talk about the old girl, like she had been a mother figure of some kind, and more than a mentor for a criminal career.

Three years ago in the china sector, an armed killer sneaked into the greenhouse atop Greenthumb's penthouse, while the old girl was attending to her flowers. The killer put a single bullet into the back of Greenthumb's head, ending the old madam's reign. The old girl was found face down in a freshly made flower bed, its dirt turned a deep red from blood. Shortly after the old girl's death, Page Tulip took her place as the number one dealer in the entire city. Talky had been forced not only to accept that new arrangement, but to show the girl total respect too, and she hated it.

Talky was taking Nancy to Page Tulip's apartment in the circle sector, where Nancy would be able to hide for a while, or so Talky had told Nancy. The china girl made a point to say that she had everything planned out, _everything_ , and, that Nancy shouldn't worry about anything at all. That made Nancy worry. But Nancy wanted to go anyway, because Talky had revealed that it was Page Tulip, herself, that was the source for Talky's tip for the blood party. Nancy's intentions were to get as much information from the dealer girl as possible while in disguise. But if Nancy needed to, she could also arrest the girl with Social Agent Dandelion's help and give the girl a proper interview.

As the car took the highway, Nancy pulled out Alex's old phone from her purse, and slipped in the battery. She pressed down on the zero key, holding it for a second, and then waited with the phone to her ear.

Talky snapped shut her compact, and turned towards Nancy. "Oh," said the china girl, her eyes glimmering with mischief, "I see. You're gonna call _him_." Nancy kept facing forward, ignoring Talky. "How cute," continued Talky, "my safety maid is _in love_. I know, sure I do."

Tila giggled from the driver's seat. "Uh oh, safety maid Nancy has a _boyfriend._ "

"Shhhh," said Talky. "No problem, we won't tell no one."

"Operator," a distorted voice came from the phone, "how may I help you--"

Nancy immediately clicked the phone off, and tossed it back into the purse with the battery still inside. "No answer," Nancy said out loud.

Tila laughed and said, "Your boyfriend doesn't want to talk to you, safety maid."

Talky, smiling playfully, teased as well, "He's probably with another girl, one with a nice sexy nose."

"Yeah," said Tila, unsure of herself, "Maybe, but who wouldn't want a tough girl. Safety maid, that's worth a lot. He's dumb."

"Yeah, sure," Nancy answered back. "But he's not my _boyfriend_. He's..." _I don't know what he is_. "...he's my assignment."

"Oh, okay," said Talky, before turning away to the window. "You want to be boring, no prob." The china girl sighed as she fidgeted around in her seat, before getting herself comfortable and speaking again. "Nancy, when you are at Baby's, take my word, have fun there. Every girl has fun there. You might like it, sure you might." Talky then pulled a handgun out from her own, more lavishly decorated purse. "Here," said the china girl, dangling the weapon from her purple-tipped fingers. "A gift from me to you. It was our tall friend's. You should keep it. I don't like guns anyway."

Nancy instantly sneered and snapped the gun out of the girl's hand.

Talky responded, "You don't have to thank me, Nancy. We're good friends."

"I don't have to arrest you, you mean." _Damn it, I forgot to ask about the soldier's weapon before._ Nancy took on a much more serious tone, and asked the china girl _,_ eye to eye _,_ "Do you know anything else, I should know about?" Nancy was always very strict about illegal weapons.

"No," said Talky, pouting a little. "I promise, Nancy."

Nancy checked the gun's magazine; it was fully loaded.

Tila took the car off the highway, taking the exit into the circle sector. Talky lowered her window and gazed outward. "We don't get to come here too often, do we Tila? Neither does Nancy. Not many girls do. It's for the rich girls only."

The circle sector was the nicest and cleanest smelling part of the city, and it also was the most expensive part to live. Nancy had heard that Director Lilac owned a place here somewhere, but the old girl had never invited Nancy, or any other social agent, to visit. She supposed that Lilac just liked to keep her private life separate from her work life. Nancy felt the same way too.

The orange sun hovered over the horizon of twinkling solar-paneled roofs and satellite dishes. The afternoon air rushed in through Talky's window and brought a slight chill with it. Nancy assumed the night would be cold again. _Lovely._ She was barely covered in that thin satin dress.

Tila took the car down into a tunnel lined with tiny white lights that went the whole way down. Under the circle sector, there was a giant parking lot for the circle residents and only for the residents of the sector. It was heavily guarded all the time in order to keep out the other girls. Talky had a security pass to get in. Normally, a social agent like Nancy would have access to the parking lot and anywhere in the city, really, that they needed to go. But without Nancy's badge, and out of uniform, no one was going to believe Nancy was a real social agent, not the way she looked now. Tonight, in that flowery dress, low-cut heels, and a sleek dark wig, Nancy was a different girl... she was Talky's ragdoll.

Tila parked slowly, and very carefully, making sure the car stayed evenly between the lines in a parking spot. The little girl had a social agent watching, after all. Nancy commented to Tila, "well done."

Black security trucks came by every few minutes in the underground parking lot. The security girls in their black outfits just nodded their heads robotically when they rode by. Nancy had never seen their company before, which was understandable since she had never parked here before. Nancy had always parked above ground, like the rest of the regular girls, when she had to come to the circle sector for work. She also never suspected how truly huge the parking lot really was. It took Talky, Tila, and herself, close to five minutes before they were able to find the elevator they were looking for. The entire underground complex must've taken years with massive funding from the city in order to construct it. And with all that money spent here, a thought came to Nancy, the condemned sector was still in ruins. _The city has its priorities, that's for sure_ , figured the social agent.

Once above ground, the three girls moved faster on the streets. Page Tulip's apartment building was named the Villa de Oro. It was an older building, built before the Great Calamity, and went up to six and a half floors. The structure seemed well maintained for such an old thing. From the bottom to the top, its outside walls were coated over with a golden paint that made the building gleam sharply in sunlight. Finely trimmed trees and manicured bushes fenced around the parameter, blocking the view in from the outside streets. The trees looked so perfectly groomed to Nancy, as she, Talky and Tila approached, that for a brief moment, she actually thought they might be fake. As she walked past them, she ran her hand through the leaves to make sure the trees were real. _Yup,_ thought Nancy, _they're real_. In her own home sector, most of the real trees had been removed long ago and had been replaced with plastic ones.

On the eastern side of the apartment building, vines had covered the outside wall heavily. Talky moved aside some foliage to reveal a tele-com panel that had been placed next to a discreet door. The china girl pressed down on a button, and then released it. After waiting a short minute, a mumbled voice came through the speaker, "What'd you need?"

Talky answered the voice, "It's Talky, Baby. I've got your _present_." Talky winked towards Nancy after saying that. Nancy frowned.

"For real? Alright. C'mon up with my _present_." The voice then started to chuckle right before the com shut off with a loud click.

Nancy glared at Talky. "Present?"

"I had to tell her something. She likes presents, so that's what I told her. It puts her in a good mood."

Page Tulip had the penthouse, and the entire top floor, of the Villa de Oro to herself. Miss Tulip's life of crime, a short one so far, had given the young girl a life of easy money, more money than most girls could earn in a lifetime. Nancy would have to fix that injustice eventually, thought the social agent, just as she would need to knock Talky down a few pegs too.

In the elevator, as they went up, Talky had a sly expression on her face, at least, more sly than normal. "Let me do all the talking," said the china girl, peering at Nancy with her cat-like eyes. "Trust me. I know what to say to her." Tila nodded along with Talky's words. "Remember, you're my ragdoll. You don't talk very much, and you don't know very much."

Nancy scratched her nose and sniffed. "Yup, I got it." The gold building had a strong scent of mildew and decay coming from it.

With a ding, the elevator doors slid open and the girls marched out. "Oh," added Talky, as they made their way down a gold trimmed hallway with velvet carpet, "Don't call her Baby Junkie either, it's just Baby."

Tila spoke up too, "Baby likes being called Baby Diamond."

"No," corrected Talky, "That's wrong too. That name feeds her ego. And that's so very bad to do. I know, sure I do. Just Baby only, please."

Talky stopped at an un-numbered door at the end of the hallway. The hallway door looked plain and unremarkable, except for an old worn floor mat lying in front of it. The china girl rapped her knuckles on the door lightly three times in a row. Then hurriedly, Talky checked herself over one last time, fixing her hair and adjusting her outfit. When the sound of locks switching and turning came from behind the door, Talky looked to Tila quickly and asked, "How do I look, little T?"

"Gorgeous," answered the little girl, "like a sweet flower."

"Ah, but what am I really?"

"A fierce dragon. No girl messes with you, Talky."

Nancy rolled her eyes as Talky smiled at the little girl before the china girl turned away and straightened her posture perfectly.

The door swung wide open, and in the doorway stood a baby-faced girl, less than five feet tall, in jeans and a plain t-shirt, with a boyish haircut of brown locks muddled on top of her head. _Baby Junkie_ , guessed Nancy. The short girl looked so young she could have passed for a twelve-year-old, even though Nancy knew Baby was actually twenty.

"Hey, Talky," greeted the petite girl, scratching her head. "Hey there, Tila."

"Hello Baby, long time."

Talky and Baby pecked each other on the lips before Baby waved everyone in. Talky, Tila, and then finally Nancy followed behind. Miss Tulip spoke, leading the girls into a living room, "I've got beer, whatever. Get what you want," the girl sniffed, "Fuck, I've got better than beer. Ha. Ha..." The baby-faced girl then laughed to herself for a good second, before suddenly stopping herself. In the living room, the girl plopped herself down on a long and pillowed couch. "Say hi to Stan, Talky," mentioned Baby, getting herself comfortable.

In the center-right of the room, an enormous glass cage went from the floor to the ceiling. Inside, a huge python coiled itself around barren branches from a broken tree trunk. The snake's length appeared to be at least thirty feet or more. Its gold and black skin shined under overhead lamps, as the creature soaked up the heat. Its reptilian eyes were closed shut and its body remained dead still.

"Hello, Stan," said Talky, peering through the glass. "You're looking good. You always do."

"Yeah, he just shed his skin," said the baby-faced girl, "He's shiny and new, just for you."

"Oh," said Talky, "a makeover."

"Yeah, ha ha ha..." Baby laughed, and then stopped herself suddenly again, before she asked, "Why are you here again?"

"Baby, my ragdoll needs a place to stay for a while. I told you."

"Oh, that's right, your _ragdoll_. But, you've been bad to your ragdoll, Talky. Real bad. Look at her face."

"Tsk, she runs her mouth sometimes. Sorry, what can I do."

The ragdoll grumbled quietly.

"Yeah, she looks like the kind that would."

"But you're going to take care of her right? For _me_ , as a favor?"

Baby gave out a little giggle, and said, "Yeah sure, Talky. Whatever."

"Thank you so much, I'll be in your debt forever. But right now, I have to go and fix business, so boring." Talky kissed the air. "Love ya."

"I love ya too."

Talky turned to leave, but stopped herself before moving past her ragdoll. The china girl planted a soft kiss on Nancy's cheek, and following it up, with an even softer "goodbye" in Nancy's ear. Talky then sashayed away, in her white heels, not saying another word to Nancy. At the door, Talky called out, "C'mon little T. Let's go." The little girl came skipping. Tila shut the door behind them, as Talky gave a last and uneasy look back towards Nancy.

"So," Miss Page Tulip said from the couch, looking around, half-distracted, "Are ya gonna tell me your, uh, name?"

Nancy answered, "Julie." Tila had picked that name.

"Nice hair-cut, _Julie_." Baby held back a giggle. "But I thought Talky had a thing for blondes. But blondes can get boring, right?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Yeah, I get it. A girl's got to mix it up sometimes." Miss Tulip laid back on the couch and whistled into the air, loud as she could. After a pause for listening, she went back to her couch pillows and adjusted them more comfortably behind her head.

_What was that about?_ Nancy wondered. Had the girl gotten herself way too intoxicated?

Nancy decided to go through her purse and check the old phone. Inside, were various contents, including the loaded handgun from the lieutenant, and some junk of Sister Bertie's. When she found the old phone, she noticed the meter showed the battery going dead soon. _Oh, lovely._ Nancy figured there weren't more than twenty or so minutes left in the device. She had bet on Social Agent Dandelion being able to track her, but without enough time, Nancy might get stuck here with Page Tulip and her pet snake longer than she had wanted. _Please, Dandelion, be watching for the signal._ She closed the purse.

Miss Tulip had started staring at her own fingers and rubbing them together. The girl seemed to be trying to make sense out of them, like solving a puzzle, or maybe she had just forgotten what fingers were. Baby must be really in a stupor, or so it appeared to Nancy. _Good_ , thought the social agent, _that should make it easier to question her._ Nancy strolled up beside the huge python cage. "What do you feed this big thing?" Nancy asked, tapping on the glass.

"Girls," said Baby, "yeah, lots of girls." The girl laughed at her own answer. "Ones that piss me off. Ones that don't pay up. Ones that Miss Money Bags tells me to, whatever."

Nancy glared hard at the girl.

"C'mon, just kidding, Julie, for real. That's just what I tell all the girls. To keep them straight and honest, ya know." Baby seemed amused admitting all that.

Nancy tapped on the glass more and a little louder. Yet, the python wouldn't budge, not even its eyes would open for her. "Is this thing even alive?" Nancy asked.

" _Yeah_. But he don't like to move much. He's a lazy boy."

"Talky said that you heard about a blood party." Nancy's voice became more serious.

"Yeah, so?"

"Aren't those supposed to be illegal? And a big secret?"

"Yeah, girls come here all the time to catch their ride. They run their mouths sometimes. Most girls, ya know, don't even believe in blood parties. They think it's like alien abductions or something like that. I don't know, but I've heard about 'em, that's for sure."

"Who told you about the last blood party?"

"Huh? Hold on a second." Baby sat up, and then whistled into the air again and listened. The girl came back into the conversation after she was done, and laid back down. "Ya know Julie, you're a nosy ragdoll, for real, you are. But I guess it don't matter. I mean, you're Talky's girl, right?"

Nancy's lips curled tensely.

"The girls call her Miss Moneybags. No one else knows her real name. But I do." The girl winked at Nancy. "I heard her talking to her maid once when I was meet'n with her. I heard the maid say it, her real name. But, I call her Lady Diamond, and she calls me Baby Diamond. She gave me those earrings." Miss Tulip then pointed across the room at a glass case on a shelf. Inside, a pair of diamond earrings hung on a severed manikin's head. _Oh, those are spectacular,_ thought Nancy, as she got closer to look.

"I don't wear them," continued Baby, "Fuck, I never go to a place to wear them." She pouted a little. "But, Lady Diamond loves her Baby though, for real."

"I'd like to meet Lady Diamond. Can you arrange a meeting for me?"

Miss Tulip snorted, "Nope. No one sees Lady Diamond. I don't get to see her unless she wants to. No one does."

"What's her real name?"

"Nuh uh, I not telling you that." Baby giggled manically to herself. "You're crazy."

"I heard she's a man-killer."

"What? Who told you that?"

"Just a rumor going around."

"No way. Lady Diamond doesn't kill men. Once, a real long time ago, she was in love with a boy." Baby's body slithered on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. "I figured Talky would have told that story to her ragdoll. The way Talky runs her mouth, ya know."

"Why don't you remind me?"

"Uh, Lady Diamond had a crush on a boy, a long time ago. She was totally boy-crazy over him. Both of them liked each other. It was serious. I think they were both like sixteen or seventeen; I don't remember. But, her older sister found out about it, and the boy got dipped. That's why Lady Diamond calls her older sister the "wicked stepsister," for real. The boy's guts got put in an ice cooler and shown to Lady Diamond too. Her sister told her to sell the organs because it would make good money. His organs were _profitable_ , her older sister really said that. That's messed up, ya know."

"You believe that story?"

"Sure. Why would she say so, right?"

"Right. Who's her sister?"

"Fuck, you like asking questions." Baby seemed bothered and sat up straight. "All I know is that she calls her the wicked stepsister. But you shouldn't ask about her, nope, because that's real, real bad. Girls who do, get dipped, every time." She held back a laugh. "I'm serious."

"Who else knows Miss Moneybags?"

"I'm the only girl that knows Miss Moneybags."

"Right."

"Hey Julie, you should sit here on the couch with me. I've got something you're gonna like. To help you relax while we wait." She patted on a couch cushion. "C'mon. I don't bite."

"No thanks."

"Yo, you are the weirdest ragdoll I've ever met." Baby snorted out, "Ha. Ha. Right. A ragdoll."

Miss Tulip put her head back and then whistled loudly, once again. _Strange_ , thought Nancy, _was she trying to hear an echo in the room_? Hearing nothing in return, Miss Tulip went back to rolling around on the couch. The girl seemed as if she was having trouble getting comfortable in her own skin, from drugs, no doubt.

Nancy checked the purse again. The phone still had power, but there wasn't much left. The batteries for those old devices tended to be unreliable too. If Social Agent Dandelion wasn't watching, worried Nancy, the signal could be lost. Nancy held out hope that she and Dandelion would arrest Miss Tulip in the apartment. Seeing the reaction on Miss Tulip's face when the girl got arrested would be worth it alone. _I doubt she'll be laughing then_ , figured Nancy.

"Ohhh Julie," said Baby, raising her voice, "You know what Talky told me about you? She said you like to forget." The girl had a smirk on her face. "I've got just the thing." She motioned Nancy to come over again. Nancy sighed and closed her purse.

Miss Tulip held up a deep blue capsule. "It's called Sleeping Beauty. You'll fade off to a nice place and won't remember a damn thing about your life. I sell these to lawyers and accountants a lot. Weird, right? Ha."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"What sorta' ragdoll don't like to party. C'mon." Baby giggled under her breath. "With this, you don't have to remember anything, for real. Not what you are. Not who you were. Not how you got that busted nose. Just a nice relaxing dream world all by yourself. Well, at least, until it wears off." She placed the capsule on a lamp table beside the couch, right near a pile of other colored capsules and assorted pills. "But whatever. It's right here if you want it. You don't even need to ask."

"Thanks. That's so sweet." Nancy eyed the capsules and pills on the table. She couldn't be sure, counting across the room, but those illegal drugs, she assumed all of them were, counted up to a minimum of ten years in prison, easily. Miss Tulip would tell Nancy everything when the girl got threatened with that much time, reckoned the disguised social agent.

Bored, Baby stopped paying attention to Nancy and picked a half-drunk beer bottle off the carpet. The girl amused herself with it, as she hummed to herself, and peered through the bottle at the ceiling light. Nancy took the opportunity to casually investigate around the living room more. Over by the diamond earrings, she spotted a framed picture that had fallen on the carpet. Nancy picked it up and looked closer. The picture's glass had been cracked through the middle, but the image inside was still visible. She recognized a much younger Page Tulip, standing with other girls the same age, in a group picture at the Magnolia Tower inside the lobby. Miss Magnolia, herself, stood to the right side of the girls, with clasped hands and a reserved and joyless face. All the young girls had tightly groomed hair-cuts and wore little matching business suits. On the left side, an older girl that Nancy couldn't recognize stood within the frame, but she assumed the girl was probably the instructor. Nancy guessed that Page Tulip must have attended a private school for business when she was a child. _Not what I expected to find_ , thought Nancy.

"I look like such a dork in that picture," Baby spoke up, "I only keep it because I miss seeing my old friends sometimes, that's all."

Nancy hung the picture back up and stepped away. "That's too bad."

"What's too bad?"

"Nothing."

"Whatever." Baby threw the beer bottle across the room and struck the hung picture, smashing the glass. The framed picture fell back to the floor. "Whoops." Baby giggled.

Nancy gave the girl a look.

Miss Tulip responded, "Relax Julie. It's mine to break."

A moment later, Nancy felt an uneasy feeling swell in her stomach, and a cold sweat came over her body. She huffed, and bent over in pain. _My advantage levels are dropping again._ Her fingers and toes started to go numb as well. _I'll need another dose soon_ , realized Nancy, _very soon._ She called over to Baby on the couch, "Can I use your bathroom, please Baby."

"Sure Julie, help yourself." Baby pointed down a hallway to a door. Nancy took the girl's direction and hustled in her low-cut heels, holding her belly. She opened the door to a thick aroma of flowers, completely artificial, and nearly making Nancy puke. Her revulsion eased though, and she was able to step inside the bathroom.

As soon as she was in, Nancy saw her mother's face again in the mirror over the sink. The social agent stared for a moment at her mother's wrecked nose, and her tired eyes under the finely groomed bangs from a synthetic black wig. _Well,_ _at least_ , reckoned Nancy, _most of the swelling and bruising was gone already._ Nancy washed her face with tap water, and then stood there patiently, waiting out the aching in her stomach. Eventually, loud music started up in the living room and thundered down the hallway, shaking the hanging glass mirror.

Nancy knew that her random pains, the cold sweat, plus the numbness, were all symptoms of her advantage levels getting too low. The conditions would only get worse too unless she got a fresh dose of formula. She wanted badly to leave now, and go straight to a hospital, where she could get proper help from a sister-doctor. Nancy wasn't too fond of Miss Tulip's place either, with its loud music, and its creepy sleeping python in its big glass cage. The whole apartment, believed Nancy, including the entire gold painted building, had a weird smell to it also, and, she had a strange feeling about it. _Old and decaying_. Nancy didn't trust the place. Yet, she wanted to give Dandelion more time. The old social agent should have noticed the phone signal by now, and, she should've, at least, sent somebody for Nancy, for sure. _C'mon Dandelion_ , hoped Nancy, as she held her belly and stared at her mother's face in the vibrating mirror.

I wanted to love... you... But now, it's too late.

You wanted to leave... me... You made a bad mistake.

_Oh Yeah..._ I'LL _KILL YOU. KILL YOU. KILL YOU, ALL RIGHT..._

_Ah, of course_ , thought Nancy. Miss Tulip had decided to play an illegal song, and a terrible one, at that. Nine years ago, a girl had murdered her x-lover and then herself in the circle sector. The killer had made sure to deliberately leave that song on repeat for whomever to hear when the bodies were discovered. The Department of Safety promptly banned it.

Soon, the pain inside Nancy's belly faded to a tolerable level. She breathed in more easily, hovering over the sink. _What am I doing?_ She analyzed herself closer in the mirror, looking over the scratches, the bruises, and all the dents hidden under Sister Bertie's make-up. She also looked over her disguise. _I look ridiculous in this outfit._ She wondered what her mother would have said seeing Nancy dressed up like a ragdoll in a thin satin dress, embroidered with roses, and wearing a long black slick wig _._ Her mother probably would have said that she understood and that she knew Nancy was undercover working as a federal agent. _Nothing to be ashamed of,_ her mother would have said figured Nancy _, nothing for sure._ And yet, Nancy wasn't really undercover right now, no, she was just hiding. The Queen of Spades wanted Nancy dead.

_Oh Yeah..._ I'LL _KILL YOU. KILL YOU. KILL YOU, ALRIGHT..._

Nancy thought about the last day she saw her mother alive. It was in late spring, the morning her mother left for Florida by herself and for the last time. The old girl had put on the only dress clothes she owned that weren't issued by the military, a simple blue skirt and a plain white blouse. They had fit nicely on the old girl. Her mother's blonde hair had been put up tightly and correctly in a regulation bun. "Nance, I've got to go now," her mother had said, standing there at the front door of their home. "Be careful with the car. Make sure you're nice to the boy's mother, be super sweet, please. It's always important to make a good impression. Smile too, when you're at dinner with the boy. But, don't be nervous, I'm sure it will be fine, just reminding you."

"Yes, mother," young Nancy had responded.

"When you two are together, I should be up in the stars, fingers crossed, and looking down. I'll be thinking about you from up there, sweetie, both of you." Her mother had opened the door next, and let the light flood in. The day had been a bright one, recalled Nancy. "Oh," her mother said next, before leaving, "come here." The old girl had turned and held out her arms for a hug, unexpectedly.

Nancy instantly had sprung up from the couch, where the young girl had been lounging all morning, and ran in her socks to her mother. When Nancy had embraced the old girl, she remembered now, how she nearly came up to her mother's height already. Hugging her mother had been such a rare thing, that when it happened, Nancy remembered them all, and that one at the door was the very last one.

"I'll see you when I get back," her mother had said softly, holding the young girl.

"Yeah, goodbye," Nancy had told her mother. "I won't mess it up. I promise." Then her mother released Nancy, patted the young girl on the back, and walked out into the sunshine, closing the door behind her. Nancy remembered how their home had already started to feel lonely after the room went dark when the door closed.

Her mother's funeral had been a standard military one; girls had shot off canons, and a trumpet had been played as the casket got slowly lowered into the ground, though there had not been a body inside, just her mother's dress uniform. Nancy had been the only relative at the event, but she wasn't alone, the funeral had been filled with soldiers, civilian spectators, and, of course, reporters. Young Nancy felt like she had a thousand eyes on her when the folded flag had been presented to her. "Thank you, Miss Rose," the sergeant-major had told Nancy, putting the flag in the young girl's hands. "Your mother was a hero." Nancy hadn't cried there at the funeral. She had known better, everyone was watching. Her mother would've been so embarrassed if she had.

_Oh Yeah..._ I'LL _KILL YOU. KILL YOU. KILL YOU. ALL RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!_

The song from the living room came to a hard crashing end, followed cymbals ringing out with a grating guitar noise lingering on. The bathroom mirror stopped vibrating too. Nancy felt better now, mostly. The pain in her stomach had gone away and her fingers and toes had regained feeling back. She decided it was time to return to the living room to face Miss Tulip and her pet snake again.

When Nancy came back to living room, the baby-faced girl was still laying on her big sofa. As soon as the girl noticed Nancy, the girl peeked down at her wristwatch. "Woah," said Miss Tulip, and then the girl stood up on the couch. "Time really does fly when you're having fun." The girl whistled again into the air, like she had before, and as loud as she had before. After a second of waiting, another whistle, more muted than Baby's, returned from behind the walls of the living room.

"Uh oh," said the petite girl, as she beamed a bratty look at Nancy, "times up, _safety maid_." The girl then pressed down on a small remote that hung from a keychain off her wrist. A soft pop rang through the room. Then all at once, through a concealed side door, a gang of girls, all armed with handguns, rushed in. The first one in had the coiled black snake tattooed on her arm. _They're goddamn_ _Sicarii_ , realized Nancy. The social agent ripped out the loaded gun from her purse.

Nancy fired once upward, blasting the hanging light on the ceiling. Immediately, the living room went dark, except where the lamps in the snake's glass case shined. Multiple flashes of gunfire soon exploded throughout the room. Girls' screams filled the air. Nancy instantly ducked down close to the carpet, cradling her handgun. Keeping her head down, the social agent scrambled, until she came up behind a Sicarii girl, who had walked within the cage's lamplight. Nancy snatched the hair of the girl's head and with a sharp thrust, smashed the girl's face into the cage, fracturing the glass where the face hit. The Sicarii girl moaned briefly, letting her gun slip from her grip, before the girl's body sank to the floor. A streak of blood was left on the glass where the girl's face had slid down.

All the gunfire then turned towards the glass case. Nancy dove away in time, dodging the bullets, and tumbled across the carpet. Behind her, the glass case broke apart and shattered into multitudes of shards all over the carpet. Miss Tulip's face could be seen manically laughing in the gun flashes, "WHOA, HA HA HA HA..." The baby-faced girl could barely constrain herself. The short girl soon yelled out, cupping her small hands over her mouth, "WATCH OUT STAN!"

Nancy returned fire as best she could back at the Sicarii, as she scooted across the carpet. The Sicarii's bullets whizzed past Nancy and struck into the walls and floor all around her. _They aren't good shots_ , thought Nancy, thankfully. The social agent stopped firing when she found a dark corner. The Sicarii stopped firing as well.

Nancy believed she had only a few seconds before they found her. She heard the Sicarii girls whispering and moving about in the living room. _There were five of them,_ Nancy thought she had counted. But, she couldn't be sure, she hadn't had much time to count perfectly, she knew. She checked her gun's magazine, her only one, and saw it was less than half full. From now on, she told herself, she'd need to shoot more sparingly and more precisely. Those bullets left in that magazine were all she had left. She slid the magazine back in quietly and waited.

"You see her?" A nervous voice asked.

"Nope," said another one.

"Fucking find her."

"I think we got her."

"Shut up, you don't know that."

Nancy sat patiently in the shadows watching for a clear shot at one of them. But before she could line up a shot, she sensed movement coming up behind her. Turning to see, Nancy was seized by a girl with a bloodied face. The girl quickly wrapped the social agent in her arms and squeezed tightly on Nancy's neck. "Fucking, stupid, safety whore," mumbled the girl into Nancy's ear. Nancy struggled to lose the girl, as the girl bit down hard on Nancy's hand, drawing blood. Another Sicarii girl's voice in the living room called out, "I SEE HER! Over there."

The bloodied girl stopped biting and shouted, "HERE. I GOT HER. I GOT HER."

Nancy hammered the girl in the stomach with an elbow. The biter fell back and released Nancy before the girl collapsed. With a clenched fist, Nancy pounded the girl on the head with maximum force. The bloodied girl blurted out a final curse word, faintly, before her eyes closed and her body fell to the carpet. Nancy immediately shifted about and moved away from the girl's unconscious body.

A Sicarii girl, with short dark hair and a silver nose ring came in close and started wildly firing, taking out bits of wall everywhere, all around Nancy, and even hitting the other unconscious girl. Nancy aimed at the barrel flashes, and returned fire. A couple of solid shots hit the shooter in the chest twice. The girl slumped over, up against a wall. Blood dribbled out of her mouth and the girl went motionless.

Next, Nancy jumped up and ran, going for a half-wall in the living room. The other armed Sicarii swiftly reacted by riddling the structure with gunfire. Bullet after bullet tore through the half-wall as Nancy crouched down behind it for cover. Nancy got struck in her right thigh, forcing her to grunt loudly. The Sicarii slowly wound down firing. "Um," said a girl's voice, unsure, "I think we got her this time."

Blood began draining out of Nancy's leg. She held the wound down with her free hand, trying to stop the bleeding. Overwhelmed, the social agent felt herself getting slower, and less sharp as her body became tired, and more normal. Her advantage levels were dropping fast; she could feel that, and they were getting so dangerously low that now her sense of smell was leaving. Whenever user of advantage levels approached the zero point, she would begin to smell an ozone-like odor. Nancy was getting the first hints of that now. And worse, her fingers and toes were going numb again, and that pain in her stomach was returning too. Nancy's body was getting heavier with each breath. She was losing her strength.

Miss Tulip sang out, her voice cracking on the high parts, "I wanted to _love_... _you_... But now, it's too late. You wanted to _leave_... _me_..."

"Oh shut up, you cranked out fool," snapped another girl's voice.

"She's dead already."

"Oh yeah? I bet she's still fucking alive. Safety maids are tougher than you think, idiot."

Nancy pulled her magazine again. There weren't many bullets left. She knew that to make it out alive, she'd need to take them all out somehow or, at least, stall them until Dandelion got there. She dug around in the purse for the old phone but couldn't feel it. _What?_ She panicked and continued sifting through the purse. _Oh no. It must've fallen out._ Nancy peeked carefully around the wall's edge and spotted the device lying on the carpet in the center of the living room. Its screen blinked, showing the power meter was empty. The phone had seconds left. _Oh that's lovely,_ thought Nancy _, so much for that_. She recoiled back behind the wall and hugged her weapon to her chest.

The distance to the front door from Nancy's position was only about twelve yards, but the door itself was closed shut, so if she ran for it, she would be out in the open while opening the door. And, the Sicarii would chew her up with gunfire, for sure. _But I can't stay here_ , thought Nancy. The Sicarii would start shooting again any second. She could hear the Sicarii slowly creeping up towards the half-wall. And besides that, she was getting too tired and weak. Nancy would have to make a move and soon.

" _Oh Julie_ , heh heh, I mean, safety maid Nancy," Baby was speaking again, "You still alive back there? Just wondering. Let us know, okay?"

Nancy answered by poking her gun around the half-wall's edge and firing a couple of shots. The Sicarii girls screamed, cursed, and fumbled about. Baby simply exclaimed, "WHOA!" in response. Nancy took that opportunity, and jumped up and sprinted, her head down, right towards the door. The heel on her left foot came off while running.

Unfortunately, before Nancy even touched the door, the Sicarii retaliated with more gunfire. One bullet hit Nancy's upper back, near her right shoulder, and another hit in her upper left arm. She tripped forward, reeling from the shots, landing on her knees. She tucked her head down and went into a ball. The Sicarii girls kept firing, blasting holes into the door. When another bullet struck Nancy in the lower back, she rotated around on her butt, and started shooting back, and kept on shooting until the trigger clicked empty. _That's it._ She felt a dark feeling come over her as she breathed in. The ozone smell grew stronger. The bullet wounds burned in her body. Nancy felt heavy, very heavy, and she wanted to lie down.

The Sicarii stopped firing again too. Nancy, knowing this was her last chance, flung off her wig, and said, "I order you to stop." Her voice sounded weak. "Throw down your weapons, now. That's an order." Her gun dropped from her hand.

"She's out," said a Sicarii girl, switching on a table lamp.

The armed girls began approaching cautiously, with their barrels still smoking and their trigger fingers teetering, making sure to keep aim on Nancy. "I'm a Social Agent," said Nancy, breathing harder, "Put down your damn guns. You are all under arrest." She spoke with the strongest voice she could muster, but her lungs were hurting.

"Boom. Boom. Safety maid," taunted Baby Junkie, as the girl stood on her couch, and with her hands up, formed like a gun. "Boom. Boom. Boom. Heh heh."

"I repeat," said Nancy, her voice even more strained. "You're all under arrest."

"Are you fucking for real, safety maid?" Miss Tulip chewed on her own lip. "You're so dumb, like for real. It's over."

"Shut up, Baby," said an armed girl, pony-tailed, with diamond-like sprinkles in her eyebrows, and wearing a pair of worn slip-on shoes. "She wasn't supposed to have a gun. You fucked up."

" _Sorry_ ," said Baby, "That's not my fault."

Nancy picked up her hand, covered in red, and then looked over herself and the flowery dress that she wore, and saw that same red, everywhere. _That's my blood_. _There's so much._ She then eased her head down and rested it on the carpet.

The girl with the ponytail shook her head at Miss Tulip. "You're so fucking lucky, you know that." Miss Tulip gave the girl a bratty look back.

Another Sicarii spoke, "Somebody better check the safety maid."

"I'll do it." The girl with slip-on shoes started walking towards Nancy, holding her handgun up and ready.

"Shoot her in the head. They don't die easy. So make sure."

Nancy noticed the old phone on the carpet again, as slip-on shoes stepped past it. The phone's screen had gone black. _Dandelion didn't come,_ thought Nancy, _no one did_.

"Yup, she's done, but still breathing." The pony-tailed girl stood over Nancy. The girl then kicked the empty handgun away and pointed down with her own gun. "Dip her now?" The girl called back to the others. "Or bring her alive, like we were supposed to do?"

"The queen said it didn't matter much," said a girl.

"Poor ol' safety maid," said Baby, "Would'a been easier if you'd just taken a nap with sleeping beauty."

"Yeah," said the pony-tailed girl, thinking it over for a second, "It doesn't look like she'd make it anyway."

Nancy wanted to scream out, "STOP, YOU'RE UNDER ARREST," but she was too weak and she knew it wouldn't matter. Now, all she really cared about was her cap badge. She hoped that it would be found by the other social agents and placed it in Athena's fountain, so she could rest with her sisters, turning green, then to black. Not that Nancy could count on Director Foxglove wanting to search for it. _No_ , figured Nancy, lying on the floor in her own blood, _I'm going to be lost too, just like Social Agent Jasmine_. _But maybe_ _Lily will look for me_ , Nancy told herself, _she's so nice_. _She's always nice_.

"Goodnight, safety maid," said the pony-tailed girl with the diamond sprinkles in her eyebrows.

"Bye-bye, _Julie_ ," yelled Miss Tulip from the couch.

Nancy let her eyes close.

Suddenly, there was a bang, and Nancy opened her eyes again. The front door of the apartment had been forced open clear and wide, with its hinges nearly torn from the wooden framework. The light from hallway instantly flooded in, stunning the Sicarii girls. In the doorway, a figure in a social agent uniform stood, posed with a nine-point-nine in hand, and a shining cap badge on her cap. Without a single word, the girl in uniform opened fire. Again, the apartment echoed with gunfire and screams. The armed Sicarii began falling rapidly.

All social agents were required to take advantage formula, even the paper pushers, even the nice ones like redheaded Caroline Lily. Watching the takedown was lovely thought Nancy. Every last Sicarii got dropped to the floor before any of them were able to take another shot. Nancy had never seen Lily in action before. For all the years after the girl's graduation, Director Lilac had stationed the redhead at headquarters, doing office work, and making bad coffee. But Lilac had been wrong as Nancy had just seen, Caroline Lily was good for more than just making coffee. The apartment went quiet after every Sicarii was down. The redhead stepped in with her white synthetic-leather boots.

"Nancy, Nancy." Lily shook Nancy's shoulder. "I found you. I tracked the phone." Lily peered downward at Nancy with the girl's sweet green eyes.

"I can see that," Nancy told the girl, as Nancy pushed herself up from the carpet with Lily's help. _Thank God and Holy Mary that you did_.

"Sorry, I know you said not to do that but--"

"It's okay, Lily. Did you nail them all?"

"Three of 'em. There's a shorty on the couch still. She wasn't armed so--"

"Good. Go grab her."

Lily was dressed in her own uniform, ironed, clean, and in perfect condition since the girl never got to wear it. Both her gloves and boots were a spotless white. On her coat lapels, she wore a silver pin on each, both shaped like an angel with wings formed like a heart. The pins weren't regulation, for sure, but they were small enough not to really matter.

Miss Tulip's pet python had finally opened its eyes. Slithering out of its shattered cage, it slowly moved over the carpet, inching towards a girl's dead body in the center of the living room. "Eek!" Lily said as she stepped wide of the huge reptilian creature.

Page Tulip cowered in a corner of her couch. The girl wasn't laughing, or singing, or taunting anymore now. Nancy really wanted to enjoy the moment more; she had intended to be the one that grabbed the girl and put the wrist ties on her during the arrest. But she was too weak and bleeding still. _I don't have much time._ Lily snatched the hair on baby-faced girl's head and yanked the girl off the couch. "C'mon. Let's go, kid."

Nancy took a quick peek at the pony-tailed girl's body. The dead girl had a bullet wound straight through her nose. Under the Sicarii's shirt, Nancy found a tattoo of a diamond. These Sicarii must have belonged to the Queen of Diamonds supposed Nancy.

With no time to investigate further, Nancy stumbled out the broken front door. Looking down at the old sister's satin rose dress, she saw it was covered with streaks and splatters of her blood, and for sure, the outfit had been ruined for good. Nancy took off the other heel, dumped it in a trash bin near the elevator, and went bare-footed and much more comfortably. Lily followed behind, pulling the petite girl, whose face had become shell-shocked and starkly silent.

At the elevator, Lily mentioned to Nancy, "You need a sister-doctor."

"I'm fine for right now." Nancy breathed hard.

"Oh okay, I guess Nancy, if you're sure. But you look terrible."

"Just get me to your car."

They took the elevator down, and Nancy leaned against the side wall. "Do you know where Social Agent Dandelion is?"

"I'm not sure," answered Lily. "She came in this morning with Social Agent Rue, and then she got in an argument with Foxglove. She left in a storm. I didn't see her again."

"Did she say anything about me?"

"No, Nancy. I didn't talk to her. She didn't even say hi to me. And she's usually really nice when she comes to headquarters. But, I did hear Clover ask Foxglove, 'Do you think Dandelion knows?' or something like that. So, I asked them, 'What are you talking about?' Foxglove told me to 'shut up,' and then told me to 'mind my own business.' Clover yelled at me, 'go make some coffee.' But I said, 'No, I'm going to find Nancy.' Well, I didn't actually say that out loud. I just thought that. So I left, and put on my cap and uniform, and made a phone search, hoping to see you."

"Did you tell Foxglove or Clover about the phone search?"

"Nope. I didn't tell them anything. They were freaking rude to me."

"Do you know where Dandelion might have gone?"

"No, she just left with Rue. But I did see Clover leave, a little later, and none of 'em came back to the Social Agent Building, as far as I saw. Ever since Lilac's been gone, every girl has been acting weird."

"Don't kill me, safety maid, please." Miss Tulip managed to find something to say, finally, as her eyes teared up. The girl looked like she was about to lose her marbles. "Yo, it wasn't my idea. It was Talky's, for real. She set you up."

"Shush, kid." Lily pushed the girl's face against the elevator wall, and began binding her wrists with ties as the girl sobbed. Nancy knew Page Tulip might be telling the truth, partially at least. The whole thing was Talky's idea for Nancy to come to the circle sector and to stay at Page Tulip's apartment. And for sure, it wouldn't be the first time Talky had told a lie to Nancy. _A safe place_ , the china girl had told Nancy. _Have fun there. My ass_. Nancy had a feeling something was off before though, which was why she had decided to activate the phone in the car. But then, why had Talky given Nancy the soldier's handgun? Did she want Nancy to escape? Or was it to end up shooting Miss Tulip, that was more likely. Then, Talky would be the top dealer in the city. And if Nancy had died, well, the china girl wouldn't have a social agent to worry about. Still, that wasn't important right now. Nancy would get the china girl to talk later when Nancy arrested Talky, once again.

Miss Tulip sniveled as Lily forced the girl down on her butt, "Please... Please, don't kill me."

"I said shush, kid." Lily gave the short girl a quick pat on her head with a white-gloved hand.

Nancy looked straight at Baby Junkie. "I'm not going to kill you. Social agents aren't murderers." _Not all of us anyway_. "But you do have to tell us everything, especially what you know about Lady Diamond."

Space Men

Caroline Lily's car trunk squealed open.

"Yo, I don't know nothing," said Page Tulip instantly. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and her legs were pushed up in the corner of the trunk. The girl's eyes, brown and wet, still had that distance look of shock in them, the same she had back at her apartment.

"It was all Talky's plan, for real." The girl pleaded.

"We'll see kid... _for real_." Lily dragged the girl out by her hair.

Lily had parked in the back of the Sunshine Cinema, safely away from the streets. At four pm, the theater was still showing its double feature, as all state-owned theaters were.

Nancy leaned beside the emergency door, waiting and feeling weak. The med-patches she had applied in the car with Lily's first-aid kit had worked, at least temporarily, and she wasn't bleeding out anymore. The adrenaline shot had helped too. But, she felt light-headed and still tired. The ozone smell had taken over by now, and she couldn't smell anything else.

The early movie at the theater had been _Sapphire Eyes_ , a documentary about Miss Mary Sapphire, supposedly the richest girl in the entire entertainment business. The movie poster was of twin sapphire-blue diamond shapes against black.

Nancy had been there many years ago when Mary sang the national anthem at Magnolia Stadium. The then twenty-one-year-old girl had said, after receiving standing applause, "Love is what you make of it." She was the only girl to ever refuse marriage after winning the federal lottery. Some girls have said that she did it for the publicity, and others said it was because she didn't want to share her money. Nancy's mother hadn't cared about the reason. She had told Nancy that Sapphire was wrong for doing that, and then her mother had told Nancy not to listen to Sapphire's music anymore. And for sure, Nancy hadn't listened since being told.

Lily took her safety key and unlocked the emergency door.

The afternoon movie was called _Space Men_ , which was the current film playing right now. Nancy had seen it before when she was ten, or close to that age, all those years ago. Her mother had taken her to see the movie at its special re-release. In fact, _Space Men_ was the only movie her mother had ever taken her to see. Perhaps that was because the movie had been about a rocket that went to Mars. _Mother loved rockets_. Nancy remembered her mother's eyes wetting up during the movie, like when the girl rocket captain finally kissed the boy Mars leader. Her mother had tried to hide that from Nancy while they had watched. Later, after the movie was over, her mother had said to Nancy, "Well, that was sappy and dumb, right." And after that, her mother never mentioned the movie again.

There was a comfortable chill in the movie theater when Nancy walked in. She was still bare-foot from before and had to carefully avoid all the smashed gum and cigarette butts stuck to the floor. The seating area was almost completely empty (most state theaters usually were). The government kept the old theaters running for cultural reasons the suits liked to claim, but in reality, the theaters were used mainly for employment. There was a single vagrant curled up and sleeping in a seat. Vagrants were the only type of girl that would actually visit a theater during the day. Lily snapped her fingers at the girl to wake her, and then shooed the girl off. The vagrant scuttled out the theater exit, leaving a slight stink of urine behind.

Lily plopped Miss Tulip down into a seat and grasped her mouth. "Don't be bad, and don't be noisy, kid."

The girl nodded.

Nancy sat down next to the short girl. Being so tired, Nancy sunk into the chair, and allowed the satin dress to ride up so her legs could stretch out. She decided to give up on worrying about her posture, or how dirty the theater might be. She crinkled her toes and gave out a long yawn. The adrenaline shot was working but won't last long, she knew.

"Go check on the projectionist, Lily," said Nancy, rubbing her eyes.

"Right," answered Lily, and then the redhead stomped up the aisle in her white synthetic-leather boots. The afternoon movie was already playing on the screen.

_Are you the captain of the rocket ship, madam_?

_I am. Captain Amy France_.

Captain France, eh... Amy, as the commanding officer of our colony, I welcome you to Mars. All of you.

"This movie is lame, safety maid." Baby Junkie said from her seat.

"Page Tulip," Nancy wasn't entertaining the girl's nicknames anymore, "This isn't a date. This is an interview. I suggest you start talking."

"Yo, I told you, it was Talky's idea. I swear to God and Holy Mary."

"Lady Diamond arranged it, didn't she?"

"Um, Lady Diamond asked about you, yeah, a little. That's what I told Talky too. That's it. But, Talky started asking stuff, like about how much she'd get if she knows where you are. I said I don't know... big money. Lady Diamond's sister wanted you, safety maid, and bad too. And Talky was like, yeah, we can make a deal."

"How much money?"

"Don't know. We never got that far. But I don't ask questions when Lady Diamond wants something, not when it's for her wicked stepsister, for real."

"What's Lady Diamond's real name?"

Miss Tulip squirmed in her seat. "I can't tell you that safety maid, for real."

"Tell me. Or you'll have _all_ the violations cited against you. You'll be in prison for life."

"Um..." Page Tulip paused as a red light lit up her face and all of the theater. The spaceman on the screen had just opened the ceiling of his observatory, flooding everything with the red color of Mars.

_Here we searched the sky for hope, waiting that someone might come_.

_Now we are here_.

_Now you may be stuck here with us forever. No way back and no way to communicate with Earth_.

_It could be worse. We could be here alone_.

"God and Holy Mary, just fuck him already," blurted out Baby.

Nancy grabbed the girl's ear and twisted it, making the girl wrench in her seat.

"Stay focused," ordered Nancy. "Now, who's Lady Diamond?"

"C'mon I already told you too much, for real. She's gonna know. I'll get dipped for sure."

"I'm going to arrest her too, her and her sister. So I'm gonna find out who she is no matter what. Maybe I'll mention to her that you told me, or maybe, I'll tell her it was one of those dead girls back at your apartment. It depends on how helpful you are, right now."

"Okay," Miss Tulip said, after a brief thought. The girl then turned to Nancy's ear and whispered slowly, "Mary Sapphire."

Nancy immediately reached between Baby's legs and pinched, causing the girl to clinch her legs together and sputter out a curse word.

"Wrong," said Nancy, twisting down on the girl. "We both saw that poster on the way in."

"You don't know." Baby gnashed her teeth. "Please... stop."

Nancy released her.

_Don't leave. The Earth will be in view soon. I would like you to see it_.

_I can't, I need to return to my crew. They are_ waiting for _me_.

_They can wait a few minutes longer_.

Miss Tulip relaxed in her seat. "I have a confession to make, safety maid. I'm really Lady Diamond."

"You know I can make it hurt worse."

_People will think things_.

_Let them think_.

"Oh, is this the part where they make out?"

Nancy elbowed the girl in her belly. "Stop."

Miss Tulip seized up instantly from the blow as her face cringed. When the girl tried to lean forward, she fell back into the folded theater chair on her tied hands. "Ouch," said the short girl, straining to get a word out. "Yeah, your right, that's later in the movie."

_There's Earth_.

_Home_.

_Our Home_.

The movie's musical score rose up when the spaceman and Captain Amy both peered upward at a magnified planet earth above them. The light in the theater shifted to all blue. Nancy forgot for a moment where she was. Her mother had touched Nancy's hand lightly during that part before, remembered Nancy. _Mother wanted to be Captain Amy. I guess she did._

Beside Nancy, Page Tulip sat motionlessly, the girl's eyes glued to the screen. "Whoa," said the girl, after watching a moment, "This part is good. But, um, I just wish Captain Amy hadn't held back, ya know, and had just kissed him right away, ya know, and saved the boys, and, um, brought them all back home safe, ya know. That was her mission. The ending was a big bummer, for real." Nancy's mother had hated the ending as well.

I have to go, I'm sorry.

But, Amy...

Nancy's ears picked up a noise from above. A relentless whopping sound started to overcome the movie's audio. Soon, the whopping consumed almost everything. _A helicopter._ Nancy sat up in her seat. _It's the_ _Queen of Spades,_ she thought _, she's here._

"NANCY!" A girlish voice shouted down from the projectionist's box, barely loud enough to be heard. _That was Lily._ "NANCY, GET OUT!" Nancy didn't waste another second. She grabbed Page Tulip's arm, roughly yanking the girl to her feet as Nancy surged from her own. She hustled her toward the emergency exit, Nancy padding barefooted, holding the satin dress up with one hand while hauling the short girl behind her. Miss Tulip's shorter legs struggled to keep pace, forcing them both to no more than a hurried walk.

The instant after they started moving, a burst of machine gun fire suddenly rang throughout the theater. Nancy ducked down reflexively, pulling Miss Tulip down with her. Every other sound in the theater, even the whooping copter-blades, went mute to Nancy's ears. Nancy observed Miss Tulip's lips moving, as the girl tried to talk in a panicky state, but Nancy couldn't understand anything the girl said. When the gunfire noise eventually stopped ringing in Nancy's ears, the social agent got up and kept moving with the girl.

Before long, single gunshots, sounding like a nine-point-nine, came from the projector's booth. Abruptly, the movie screen went hot white, right after the spaceman tried to kiss Captain Amy and caught her arm when she tried to slap him. Now, the entire seating area in the theater got lit up clearly, making it easy to spot Nancy and Page Tulip. The movie's audio kept rolling, normally.

Hold on.

Never do that.

Never?

Never without permission. Now, I must go.

The final word heard was "Wait," from the spaceman's voice, before the sound system finally shut off. Miss Tulip tripped a few yards from the emergency door. Not on purpose, for sure, the girl still had her hands tied behind her back and her legs were much shorter than Nancy's, but Nancy barked at the girl anyway, "Get up! Now!" Nancy helped the girl back to her feet, and they continued to rush, as fast as they could, towards the emergency door.

A scream came, "NANCY WATCH OUT!" sounding like Lily again. As Nancy pushed through the door, pulling Miss Tulip, more machine gun fire came. Before Nancy could dodge away safely, bullets rained down on top of her and the short girl. A few hit Nancy, but most struck Miss Tulip, tearing through the girl's body. The girl wobbled on her feet. Nancy, herself, began to seize up from the fresh wounds, but the social agent forced her body to push on. Behind them, the emergency door shut automatically and got heavily peppered with bullets, before the machine gun fire eventually ceased.

Miss Tulip dropped to the asphalt street just a few paces from Lily's car. Nancy sank down beside the girl to check over Tulip's wounds. A bullet had pierced the girl's neck and one had ripped through her stomach. _Nasty wounds_ , observed Nancy, _likely fatal for her._

Page Tulip gurgled out some words while blood slipped out her mouth. "Help me...Please help me...safety maid Nancy." Then the baby-faced girl went still and silent, her young brown eyes staring straight. _Too late, Miss Tulip_ , thought Nancy, _too late._

Nancy felt a massive loss of energy as her wounded body started to succumb. The ozone smell that had overcome everything else before, now went away. The world reverted back to normal again, plain again, just like a regular girl. Nancy made herself crawl on her bare hands and knees in the direction of Lily's car, hoping to hide under it. But the social agent couldn't make the struggle; she had normalized too much, and had lost her strength. She fully collapsed beside the car, exhausted. All she had now was pain. There was nothing left of her advantage levels.

Another standard-issue federal car pulled in behind Lily's. Out of the driver's door, stepped a synthetic-leather boot of a social agent, the color of forest-green. Nancy couldn't think; her head was too clouded, so she couldn't remember which social agent's colors those were. She only realized, once she saw the brown hair, tiny blue eyes, and the freckled nose on the girl's pale round face, who the social agent was _. Oh, damn it. It's_ _Clover_. The freckled-faced girl already had her handgun out, walking toward Nancy. _God and Holy Mary._ Nancy closed her eyes. _Just end it, please._ Nancy's last thought was of _him_ , Alex with his sky-blue eyes and his messy sandy-brown hair. She had saved him, at least; she had done her duty, or so she told herself. Nancy heard Clover giggle.

Social Agents Don't Cry

(four years ago)

She was awake now, barely. She had been sitting in the same chair for an hour, maybe more, with her wrists tied behind her back and her ankles tied to the chair legs, just in her underwear. A lone lamp mercilessly shone down from the ceiling. Her neck had become stiff, leaned to one side, and it was painful to straighten herself. It would have been easy enough to coast off to sleep, but the social agent that tied her down had warned her not to.

On the last day in class at US Social Agent Academy, Nancy Rose had been asked to report to Director Karen Thistle, which was normal. All the new recruits had an appointment on the last day with the Director. Nancy had one at 1:30 pm, right after the redhead Caroline Lily's. She remembered the bubbly laugh the redhead gave when she walked out the door. Annoying girl, but, at least, she was friendly to her. Recruit Lily never returned back to class, though. Neither did any of the other girls that had appointments. Nancy should have known something was wrong then.

When Nancy left the classroom, five minutes exactly before 1:30, she was told by the instructor to wait on the stone bench under the shade of the big oak in the academy plaza. Normally, the plaza was filled with recruits having a meal, practicing exercises, or just lounging around. But today it was empty on the last day of school.

As she sat alone, under the big oak, she noticed the leaves were coming to life again in little buds. An early spring, she thought, but she could still feel a hint of winter in the cool wind. Two social agents, she had never seen before, both armed and in full uniform, approached her. Before she could stand up, or say anything, they grabbed her, and told her she was under arrest. One even told her she was a "coward and a liar." The other said she was a "traitor." She protested, but was warned to keep her mouth shut. So she went with them, meekly, treated like a criminal there in the plaza where no one else could see.

With a warning creak, the heavy door opened, in stepped an older Social Agent with a lit cigarette in hand. "Recruit Rose," the girl said, "We know all about you." Nancy lifted her head, and dutifully answered, "Recruit Rose, ma 'am." Nancy could smell mint coming from the smoke.

"You are a coward, a liar, and a probably a spy from the capital." The old girl inhaled her little cigarette, "Admit it, you failed out of the Marine Corps because you couldn't take submersion tests. You couldn't handle it. You lied on your application about that too. But we know why."

"I'm not a swimming girl, ma 'am."

"That's not it," she said as she poked at her cigarette, "It's your mommy."

She gulped, "that's not true."

"Your mommy died in space, never heard from again, trying to get to the moon. That traumatized you, didn't it? When you were alone in the water, you thought of her. All alone. Dying alone."

"No," she said.

The old girl walked up close, bringing her cigarette's lit end up close to her and said, "No?"

"I..." Nancy struggled to talk. "I almost drowned, when I was little."

The old girl blew smoke in her face, "And what happened?"

"My mommy...," she stopped herself, "my mother saved me." Nancy wasn't sure if she should have said that.

"So your mother was dead, floating in space forever, like dead meat. And no one was gonna save you if you started to drown. You panicked every time, and were eventually forced out of the Marine Corps." The social agent took another swig off her cigarette, and then casually exhaled. "Your mother died because she broke the rules. She left the cockpit without authorization... and died because of that."

"No, that's not true. She tried to save the ship--"

"The Department of Safety did the investigation. What you were told was a nice lie. There was a malfunction. She was ordered to make an emergency re-entry, which was protocol number one for safety, but 1st Lieutenant Rose refused. She put on a space suit, left the ship, and tried to fix the malfunction. The situation turned out to be inoperable as the girls back in Houston tried to tell her. And because of her, and what she wanted, what she really wanted, to be the first girl on the moon in a hundred years, everyone died. Because she broke the rules." Then the old girl got more blunt. "And you'll be the same. You'll break the rules too. So you can't be trusted. You don't have what it takes to be a social agent."

"No, please," She felt herself starting to cry, but she held it back. "I want to help girls. I want to make them safe."

The big girl, the smoking girl, laughed out loud, "Ha, just like every recruit. They all say the same thing."

The old girl asked her with the ember of her cigarette dangling in front of her eyes, "I want you to admit what you really are. You're like your mother, aren't you? Worse —you're a coward. At least, mommy wasn't a coward."

"No, I just want to help girls; I want them to be safe." She said again desperately.

"I don't think so, sweetheart." The old girl eased her cigarette's end towards her right eye. "You're your mother. I can see it in your face, your eyes, and your blonde hair; just admit it."

"No," she said, "I don't even think of my mother."

"You're a liar," and the old girl pressed the cigarette closer to an eye. The glowing tip was so close; her eyes began to water. Nancy sniffled too, and she wished she hadn't.

"Oh, don't cry," the old girl said, "Social agents don't cry. Not even for their mothers."

"Please," she cried out, "I loved her, but I will be a good safety maid. I swear to God and Holy Mary." Those were the last words she said to the social agent, before the old girl got up and turned away. The social agent only said back, "Sure, Recruit Rose." And with that the old girl left the room, leaving behind her horrible cigarette smoke and the stink of mint.

She wanted to cry now, but she held it in. They must be recording everything. So crying wasn't an option, not ever. Not even when they mentioned her mother. At least, they didn't mention him; the boy she was supposed to marry. It was just a test. They just needed to know she was a tough girl. _I can't fail again_.

She was brought out eventually; it must have been another hour at least. This time she was blindfolded as she was escorted. One of the escorts said, with a dead serious voice, "You know we are going to shoot you, right?" The other sniggered, "Stop."

"Just make it quick," Nancy said to them, but they didn't answer back.

Through a pair of doors, they entered the auditorium, at least it sounded like the auditorium, from the way other girls' voices were echoing. And there were a lot of girls it sounded like. Nancy was forced to her knees, just as she heard a girl shush the other girls, and they all went quiet. Just for a second, she thought they might just execute her, but these were social agents not criminals. Besides, no girl would send their daughter to Social Agent Academy if they shot you if you failed. Then again, she thought, she had no mother to protest the execution.

"This recruit lost her mommy in space," a voice said.

"She's scared of the water," another girl said. Nancy spoke up, a little, to that accusation, "That's not true--"

"Shhh," said a voice hanging over her, then that same voice bellowed out, "What say you girls?" The voices all whispered amoung themselves. A lone girlish voice, rose up, "I like her. She seems tough." That sounded like Caroline Lily. "Shut up, you're just a recruit yourself," responded another.

The big-voiced girl called out, "Does any girl have any real objection then?

"Did she cry?" A question was raised by another girl's voice.

"No," and a girl was thankfully short on that answer.

Just a brief moment of silence after that, and the blindfold was ripped off with a hard jerk, snapping her head back painfully. Nancy grunted. Her neck was still sore from before.

"Time to see your sisters, Social Agent Nancy Rose." About a dozen or more social agents were in uniform, along with about the same amount of recruits from class, some still in their underwear. Most, though, had an indifferent look on their face towards Nancy; a few even seemed to be holding back snarls aimed at her. Nancy wondered why.

Yet redheaded Lily had a warm smile for her. Underneath her bright green eyes were dried smears from where tears had run down her face. Nancy wondered what the old smoking girl told her, to make her cry, but Nancy figured it wouldn't be that hard really. Girls like her cried easily. On her lap, Lily had her folded grey-blue uniform, with her uniform cap sitting on top. _She made it. Hmmm_. And Nancy had bet to herself that she wouldn't.

The old girl, this time without a cigarette in hand, picked Lily's cap up, toyed with it, and then placed it gently on Lily's head, giving her a little pat and a loud "Ha" for congratulations. Well, Nancy supposed the social agents must have seen something in Caroline Lily.

Finally, Nancy had her hands undone and was helped to her feet. Standing in front of her was Director Thistle, an old girl at least mid-thirties. The Director had always come down to the academy on the last day, to have the "last appointment," and be the first to greet the new social agents. In her velvet-purple gloves, she held out a new folded uniform, and, of course, a new uniform cap with a gleaming silvery badge. Nancy choked for a second when she saw, _US Social Agent Nancy Rose_ , imprinted on it.

"Remember," Thistle said, "safety and truth, that's what we protect. More than anything else." The director handed Nancy her uniform, "Repeat after me. Today was good."

"Today was good," Nancy repeated after she found her voice.

"Tomorrow will be better."

"Tomorrow will be better."

"Say that to yourself when you need to, and before you sleep. Things can be rough for a social agent, especially in a world like this. Girls are going to hate you for doing your job; that's how it works, and getting used to that is hard. So we have to remind ourselves to keep going. No matter what."

Nancy only nodded back; she was too fixated on the badge, her badge in fact, and the relief that she had one because she did not fail after all. Having it right in her own hands, brought a swelling of pride, a feeling she hadn't felt in a while. She wished mother was still here, so she could see her daughter put on this uniform. Nancy was sure she would look spectacular, like her mother had always looked in her military uniform. Sadly, the only uniform Nancy had ever worn was at military school. And they weren't real uniforms, even if the girls liked to play like they were, just like they pretended to be soldiers too.

"Very well, Social Agent Rose, please go take your seat with your new sisters."

Nancy sat down beside Lily before she could think of a good reason not to. Lily was delighted, of course, and showed off her cap and badge like a girl showed off a new pair of shoes. And after that was done, Lily spoke cautiously into Nancy's ear, "Sorry Nancy, I don't think it's true what they say about you."

"About what?" Nancy stiffened. She pictured the moon in her head for some reason.

"That you only passed because you had a famous mom."

Sharply, she said, "Who said that?"

"Every girl, Nancy." And Lily got quieter. "I told them that's a lie. No girl would pass unless she deserved it. We're social agents not police recruits, you know."

"Right," Nancy said, unsure of that, as she looked over Lily's running tear marks on her face. _Yeah,_ Nancy thought _, no one passes unless they deserve it._

Nancy tried not to think about the gossip anymore, as she sat there enduring Lily's chatter, while the social agents brought in the next girl. Jasmine, she believed her name was. A nice girl too, quiet, which she liked a lot... because quiet girls didn't spread rumors.

Mint Smoke

"What about Lily?" She asked, unsure if she wanted the truth. A sister-doctor, well some girl in a white coat at least, had been adjusting a blanket over Nancy, and pulling it to cover her bare feet. She couldn't see the sister's face clearly; her vision was still too blurry.

"Don't worry about that," said a calm voice and a familiar one, "I needed to flush your system and apply a new dose of advantage formula. Your body has already begun to regenerate, slowly. So rest, stay still. You're a lucky girl, actually. Not many social agents make it with the wounds you had."

When Nancy's eyes finally focused, she realized it was Sister-Doctor Meadows. The sister-doctor kept her white hair to a bare minimum, like a cook or a surgeon did, which was practical for her work. No girl wanted hair in their food or in their insides for sure. After surveying the room, Nancy realized she wasn't in a hospital, but a bedroom in a cheap looking apartment, and she had an IV tube in her wrist.

"Is Lily okay?" That was all she wanted to know right now.

"Social Agent Lily," the old girl paused for a second, and then spoke carefully, "is just fine. What's important right now Social Agent Rose is that you rest and get well."

_Just fine_? She felt a tear forcing itself out of her right eye, but she held it back. _It's my fault Lily's "just fine._ "

"How 'just fine' is she?" She had to ask.

"Rose," and Sister-Doctor Meadows stood up, "I have something to help you rest." The old girl pulled a syringe from her coat and began attaching the needle to the saline cord.

"No," she said, "I'm okay. Let me be alone."

The old girl nodded and left the room, saying only, "Alright, darling."

Social agents don't live long. Most never make it past thirty, and honestly there wasn't much reason to. There can't be a happy ending. Every girl knows that. As she faded out again, she thought of _him_ , and his stupid smile. _Had he listened_? _Was he safe_? He never listened before. He was always stubborn. _Please, please be safe_...

The wind blew and whipped her hair. She had let her hair grow long, all the way to her waist. Much longer than her mother had ever let her. She was holding onto him, on a motorcycle, his. Of course it was his. It must be. Riding near a beach, she saw little girls running on the sand and splashing in the waves. Some mothers were standing, others reclining and reading from a screen-portable. One mother was yelling with her hands on her hips. Nancy couldn't understand what the old girl was saying, but she could imagine what a mother yelled about on a beach. The water was dangerous after all.

He had an amused look on his face when he turned back to look at her, and he wasn't wearing a helmet. That's a safety violation and a one thousand and eighty dollar fine. She wasn't wearing hers either, but somehow she didn't care. Instead she whispered to him, "How fast does it go?" He throttled the gas.

The road slid faster underneath them, while the painted yellow dividers became a blur. There were a few cars, but he maneuvered easily around them. She mouthed out a "Yes," but her voice failed against the wind.

When they came to a curve, a nasty one that went sharp left, she noticed that it was night suddenly and he hadn't turned on his headlight. She yelled, but he took the curve too late, and they ended up tumbling over the sand and into the dark, cool water. Her toes couldn't touch the bottom. And to her fear, she couldn't see him, both the motorcycle and its driver must've sunk down into the deep. She struggled to keep her head above the water, as she cut with her legs and arms furiously. She cried, "Help." But she was all alone.

When the water got in her nose, she blew it out, but it instantly filled up again. _I shouldn't have been so reckless. I shouldn't have broken the rules._ _I should never have fucked him_ _._ That was all a confession to herself. When her body finally dropped underwater, because the undertow had finally captured her, she was in total black. _Mother_ , prayed Nancy, _save me_.

Soon, a body, glowing blue from some unknown light, floated towards Nancy. Its skin had decayed, and parts were missing where fish had eaten off chunks. It was a man's body too, but not _his_ , not Alex, it was the other one. The one that called her his "wild rose." The one she was supposed to marry. And the one, she didn't want to worry about right now. _Not Now._ She kicked him away, and watched his corpse disappear back into the black...

Nancy's eyes opened again, much later, it seemed. There was a strong chill in the room now; it was darker too, and, there was a scent of smoke and mint in the air. When she sat up, her body felt better, stronger. As she disconnected her IV, she noticed the bullet wound in her left arm was gone. And the others were gone too. Just light scars were left now. Also, her busted nose, when she touched it, felt fixed too. She must have been out for a while, at least eight hours or more, for enough time for a proper regeneration.

On the corner table was a paper note, and lying on top of it was one of Lily's silver angels gleaming under the table lamp's light. Nancy was hesitant to walk over there, fearing the note might confirm what she suspected, that Lily was "just fine" for good. After finding her footing on the carpet floor, she decided that she needed to know regardless. Nancy moved to the corner table, and at first, she picked up the angel. Lily had told Nancy her angel pins were gifts from the door boy. "He's super nice," Lily had said. _Lily was super nice too_ , thought Nancy sadly.

She picked up the note finally. It was written in sister-doctor's cursive, barely readable...

Social Agent Rose, if you wake before I return, make sure to drink water and do not overexert yourself. You should be fine to eat, but keep it light. So you know, the director left this pin for you. She said it belonged to Social Agent Lily. Be well, Sister-Doctor Meadows.

Nancy didn't know what to think. Was Lily really "just fine" for good? Then, why would Foxglove want Nancy to see Lily's angel? _To taunt me_ _?_ Nancy couldn't make sense of anything right now. Not even how she survived and how she got here. Clover must have brought her, surely, but for what reason, Nancy couldn't guess.

She opened the door to leave the room and saw that no one was outside. The place was just a cold, unlit apartment with sparse furniture and no decorations, like no one really lived here, like a prop house. Social agents used prop houses when undercover or when traveling. And this looked like one, definitely, thought the social agent.

Nancy moved out into the apartment where she caught a stronger whiff of the mint smoke in the air. She tracked the smell to another bedroom door. Cautiously, she opened it. Inside, the smoke had filled the entire room. Nancy sniffled.

"Ha," a gravelly voice said, "I bet you're going tell me to put it out."

Samantha Lilac took a long drag off her cigarette and then blew a funnel of smoke out with a puckered smile. The old girl was sitting in a table chair with a book in one hand and a cig in the other. Close by, in the corner, was black-haired Foxglove in her black gloves and black boots. Her arms were folded, and there was something smoldering behind her gaze. Foxglove only nodded when Nancy entered the room.

"I just don't get it," Lilac said, and then tossed the book on a lamp table. The binder read _Space Men_ by Laney Poppy. "I just don't see how girls can call this a good read. God and Holy Mary, it's mushy crap."

"Director Lilac?" Nancy said, eyebrows raised.

"Rose," said Lilac, tapping her cigarette on an ashtray, "I thought you would've known better."

"I told you," Foxglove said, flicking her chin at Nancy, "Rose is about as sharp as ol' Helen Keller in the dark."

"When not shooting her gun off," Lilac said and took another drag.

"What the hell happened?" Nancy asked.

Nancy didn't want to tell Lilac what she really thought, especially with Foxglove there. The director trusted Foxglove, apparently, but then maybe Nancy's disappearance had forced Lilac to, thought Nancy.

"You screwed everything up. I told you not to worry about the queens. That was an order not a suggestion. I was forced to go shake down old contacts before I wanted to. And I couldn't do that with eyes on me. The Sicarii have eyes everywhere. So I faked my death with Foxglove's help. We knew the queens are in the city. But now, because of you, they know we're coming at them. And also now, because of you, they've got Lily..."

Nancy's grip tightened on the silver pin in her hand.

"No telling what the Sicarii are doing to the poor girl. But, that's not the worst part. They got a package, something bad, and they are bringing it here. So, Social Agent Rose, are you done screwing around with your drug buddies and ready to work?"

Nancy stood there, still confused, but relieved that the director was alive, and Lily was too, at least for now. After taking a breath, Nancy said, "I just need a uniform and a gun, director."

Cinderella's Shoe

Social Agent Dandelion seemed attentive, but emotionless, viewing herself in a hanging oval mirror in the prop house. She slid her fingers carefully, pulling on her candy-apple red gloves, the same color as her lipstick, before pulling each wrist strap tight. She swiped back her sunny blonde hair, before placing her uniform cap down on her head gently and precisely. When she was done there at the mirror, her cobalt-blue eyes sparkled while giving herself a cocky look.

Nancy had a hard time not loving Dandelion, she could understand why Alex would, the girl kept herself looking tight after all, like a social agent should. And the girl was good at everything a social agent should be, apparently. There wasn't a contest Social Agent Dandelion couldn't win. Whether it was shooting, running, driving, or just posing in her red lipstick in a photo shoot for Forward Magazine, she won them all, and the news girls made sure every girl knew it. She's "America's Favorite Social Agent" after all.

Whenever an interview of a social agent was needed, they went to Dandelion first. Even when the Goldenaster Building burnt down, two thousand and six hundred miles away from the girl, they got Dandelion in front of the cameras. America's favorite needed to comment on everything.

Her endless promotion, while annoying, was acceptable to Nancy. Other girls though, took it harder, like Jean Paris Foxglove. She hated Dandelion the most. Both of them were good at everything, each claimed, and both assumed the captain's desk was there waiting for them. Lilac had once summarized the difference between Dandelion and Foxglove, when she said, "There are social agents news girls won't talk about, and then there are social agents they talk about all the time."

Social Agent Foxglove stretched out on the couch against the wall, under a hanging blanket that covered the only window. She fiddled with her handgun, cocking it, again and again, while she watched Dandelion obsessively, brooding as she did it.

Dandelion seemed to know too and was pleased to continue her show in front of the mirror, while maintaining that cocky look of hers. This made Foxglove smolder even more. At least, thought Nancy, Foxglove wasn't bothering her. The black-haired and copper-eyed social agent kept her judgmental eyes locked on Dandelion only.

"Girls," Dandelion spoke up, straightening her outfit one last time, "Did you see the news last week. I had dinner in the capital with the Lady General. Fabulous girl."

"Go piss yourself," said Foxglove.

"Some girl must have leaked it. It was _supposed_ to be a private dinner."

"I couldn't imagine who'd do a thing like that," Clover said from a sofa chair in the corner, legs half-crossed, picking something in her teeth with her forest-green glove.

Foxglove cracked a smile, "Must have been a slow news day, because who gives a damn about what a red-lipped ass-kissing bitch has for dinner?"

"Hmmm." Dandelion touched up her lipstick. "The Lady General of the Department of Safety did. I had the tuna dish. In case you're wondering."

"I bet," Clover snickered to herself.

Dandelion's official nickname was "the lion," as far as her fans were concerned, but a few social agents liked to whisper "the dandy" instead, behind her back, of course.

"Girls, I love it," Dandelion said, "You're so feisty, so much fun."

Foxglove rolled her eyes.

"I wish I had this kind of fun banter on the west coast. But I'm stuck with social agents, so bland, so quiet. Like Tassel Rue, a girl can never tell what she's really thinking. I wonder if she hates me sometimes," Dandelion laughed playfully, but obviously insincerely.

"I wish I could blow your brains out right now," Foxglove said coldly. "Is that the kind of fun banter you like?"

Dandelion turned, shaking her finger, "Tsk, tsk," her face looked amused, "I might just be your boss one day, dear. You never know."

"Over my dead body."

Dandelion giggled, shrugged her shoulders, and turned back to the mirror to touch up her lipstick again. Foxglove went back to brooding and cocking her gun.

With a boom, the door slammed open. In stomped Director Lilac, followed by Social Agent Rue and the virgin girl, Jasper, who was carrying a case. Dandelion pocketed her lipstick and Foxglove holstered her gun. _Well,_ _I feel a little safer_ , Nancy thought, _now that their weapons are put away_.

Nancy tugged the last of her new tan boots onto her left foot. She stood up and wiggled her toes, trying to get comfortable in the stiff synthetic leather. Lilac had found Nancy a whole new uniform, including gloves that matched the boots. They weren't exactly her color, but that was fine. At least she would be in uniform.

In place of her missing cap badge, Lilac had given Nancy a dupe made by an imposter social agent years ago. It wasn't a copy of Nancy's, but actually of the counterfeiter's sister, a social agent who died in the line of duty. The badge duper lost her marbles after her sister's death and took over the social agent's identity for over a year. The badge had Linda Dove's name on it.

"All right," Lilac said, "the package is coming on a zeppelin. It _is_ , what we thought." After taking a hit off her cigarette, Lilac continued, "Somehow, they got a new mutation of the super-virus. They plan on turning the clock back--forever. And they are bringing it here, over our heads..."

Most travel, even in the air, was monitored by the Department of Safety. That made transporting illegal materials like guns, drugs, and bootleg media very difficult. But zeppelins were privately owned by the wealthy, and were not under the surveillance of the Department of Safety, usually. And for sure, the airships never got subjected to regular federal roadblocks or airport security.

"We have to hit them when the zeppelin lands," said Dandelion, "and seize the package immediately. All of us together can do it." The blonde was purposely dramatic, but that seemed normal for her. Lilac wasn't moved though.

"That's not the plan, exactly," Lilac said. "We also need to get Lily."

"Fine. Leave the zeppelin to me and Rue, and you girls can get Lily."

"Dandelion," Lilac responded, "stop and listen. The zeppelin will dock at eight thirty on top of Magnolia Tower. The passengers will get off there. And so will the package. The carrier will be bringing it to the queens, all four, I've been informed."

_Even the Queen of Clubs too_? Nancy wondered to herself.

Magnolia Tower had Black Hat Security and police on call, not that the police amounted to much. But the Black Hat girls were another story. They were a security firm from Eastern Europe and operated more like a mercenary army than regular security. Rich girls used them. They don't talk, they follow any order, and are highly trained.

Lily was being held in the basement of Magnolia Tower, or, at least, that's where her phone had been tracked last. The last message left on Lily's own voice mail was, "Don't come. No, no, NO!" And that was it. The message was obviously meant for social agents to hear. _The Sicarii were inviting us_. Poor Lily was most likely dead already, or something worse. Lilac pretended like she didn't care and made a point to say "Losing a social agent is routine." Which it was, as all the girls knew.

Lilac's plan was straight forward enough. Dandelion, Foxglove, Clover, Jasper, and Rue were going to the Magnolia Plaza, acting normal. All social agents in the city had been invited to meet the Mother Most Superior anyway, so there should be no problems with that.

The other social agents, the girls not wise to what was happening, would be helping the police deal with crowd control. Foxglove had ordered Social Agent Violet to take the lead in that task. And Violet wasn't happy about that, as Foxglove needed to comment with a slight smirk. No girl ever liked getting stuck with crowd control duty for sure. The overwhelming stink of human flesh could be hard to stand.

Nancy and Lilac would enter the tower basement from the subway by themselves, hopefully unseen. Under Magnolia Plaza there was an old door that led to a tunnel, abandoned when construction halted years ago, that connected to the basement. Clover and Jasper, at eight o' clock, would unlock the door and let Nancy and Lilac in. After rescuing Lily, if she was there, the social agents would take the maintenance elevator to the top of the tower and meet up with Dandelion and Foxglove.

"But the priority is the package," Lilac reminded them, "not Lily."

Every girl nodded.

Dandelion spoke up, "Why take the long route to the basement? Why not just use an emergency exit that's closer?"

"The Sicarii will be expecting that move," Lilac answered.

"Ah," Dandelion said, "Keep the Sicarii guessing, I see."

"Now, about the Queens. We can't just walk up and arrest them. Even if we were sure who they were. But once we've got the package, then we've got 'em. No suit in the capital will dare support them again secretly after that evidence is revealed to the public. That's when we arrest the queens."

"Wonderful," Dandelion commented, "but if you had not kept me in the dark about the fake death stunt, maybe I could have helped more."

"Maybe," Lilac said, "but I told those I needed to tell only."

"Not you," Foxglove whispered, causing Clover to titter.

Nancy caught Dandelion sneaking a subtle and amused look at Foxglove and Clover. Foxglove gave her back a cold stare.

"Jasper," Lilac said, pointing to the folding table against the wall. The virgin girl hustled over and dropped a case on top. She popped the case's latches and opened it.

"The Queen of Spades has armor," Lilac continued, "as Rose knows firsthand. Normally, we could use our own grade achilles suits, but that requires permission from the Lady General. And we can't exactly explain what we are doing right now without risking too much. So, I called in a favor and got some AP magazines. One for each of us."

_Yes_ , Nancy thought. Those armor piercing rounds should be able to penetrate achilles Suits, even military grade. Still, she'd never fired on military-grade achilles suits with them before, so she couldn't be totally positive. But at least the social agents would have a fighting chance against them hoped Nancy.

Later that afternoon, Nancy found herself at a window, looking out into the cityscape. She swore the city's fumes had a slight hint of something burnt in them today. The other girls disagreed. Some claimed it was like wet fur, or melted asphalt, or even, oddly enough, like chicken noodle soup. The smell of the city could be different for every social agent on advantage formula. Humans had a hard time adapting to all the smells at once because they couldn't selectively categorize them like an animal could. Really, all girls could be correct in their own way, Nancy believed.

Clover came up and slapped her green glove on Nancy's shoulder, "Sniff, sniff," the girl said, "what girl doesn't love the smell of this marvelous city?" She wrinkled her nose and made a funny face. Patting Nancy, half-assed, Clover mentioned, "no one's told you yet, I bet."

Nancy picked Clover's hand off her, "What?"

"I, well...," Clover got quieter, "we tried to find him while you were sleeping. Lilac told me to. I searched all the old addresses and phone numbers. I visited his last address, an apartment in the park sector. His place was trashed. Looked like someone ransacked the hell out of it. I dug around. Found nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing useful. I saw old Dandelion's flower hanging on the wall there, the only thing not smashed or ruined. But I checked around the building. A local boy told me he saw a girl in armor on the rooftops two days ago. He said it was purple and gold. Must have been you in the armor you borrowed. But he said he saw another one yesterday before I talked to him. Same color too."

_Another one_? "Was there a helicopter?"

"Nope, no copter. But there were some military-looking girls snooping around the night before. One of them threatened a local. Told him she was going to feed his dick to him if he didn't stop looking at her. Short platinum blonde. Raspy voice."

"Sounds like a friend of mine. The second achilles suit must have been General Iris or one of her lieutenants returning in a suit for some reason."

"I don't know, but there was no sign of him at the apartment. Sorry."

_He wouldn't be_. _He's gone for sure_. _He's safe now._ "It's okay Clover."

"Right, just thought you should know. I'm sure he'll show up sometime. But hey, I'm sure you'll find someone else to _definitely_ _not_ have an illegal affair with soon."

"You've been listening to gossip too much, Clover. He's not some sort of secret lover." _He's my husband_. Nancy couldn't believe she just thought that to herself. It wasn't true, the wedding had been faked. She just wanted him to leave and be safe. It was her duty to pretend.

"Oh, sure. Then no big loss."

"Right," Nancy said with a shiver in her heart.

Clover walked away, with a little strut in her step. The girl linked up with Foxglove in the corner, and the girls chatted away, occasionally giving a look to Nancy.

Dandelion approached Nancy a short while later. The sunny blonde girl hadn't said anything to Nancy the whole time. "Oh," Dandelion said, "almost forgot Cinderella." The old girl handed Nancy one of Sister Bertie's borrowed heels. "Sorry, I got to the Villa de Oro too late, dear. You left quite a mess to clean up there, you know." Then Dandelion turned and walked away.

Nancy turned back to the window. Holding the heel in her hands, she thought about the old phone and Dandelion not making it on time at Page Tulip's apartment. If it weren't for Lily and Clover, Nancy had to admit, she would be dead now. Dandelion hadn't helped at all. _Did the girl even try?_ Nancy wasn't sure what to think about it right now.

The shoe in her hand reminded Nancy of Sister Bertie's place. It still had a faint scent of the old sister's fragrant home _. I looked like a different girl when I said those vows to him in the garden._ _Those fake vows._ She wondered if she had done enough to save him.

A gush of wind blew in, and that strange scent of ignited gunpowder came with it. She shut the window tight. Across the skyscraper tops, and over the antennas, the dark blue sky had turned into evening, and a white moon hovered over the city, full and giant-like. _A full moon, tonight._ Nancy felt uneasy, peering at the bright ugly thing. _Bad Luck... for sure._ Nancy pulled her new nine-point-nine from her holster, checked the ammo, and then slapped the magazine back into it hard.

Maple Twins

(three years ago)

The Maple Twins were holed up in the Miss Pancake Restaurant, just a little past noon on a Monday. The girls were flush with cash from a robbery in Denver, both were armed, and they had two hostages. Social Agent Rue had been tracking them from Colorado through Wyoming. Apparently, after getting their hands on some guns, the bandit sisters had conducted their crime spree all the way from Vermont to Nancy's state, boring Idaho.

Social Agent Rue sat in the driver's seat, not saying anything, tapping on the steering wheel with her standard-issue, grey gloves. Nancy decided to speak up, "How 'bout, you take the front, and I'll do the back."

"Hmph," and that's all the girl expressed. She seemed annoyed that Nancy was even there. Tassel Rue was an older and a much more experienced social agent. Close to thirty by the looks of her, and Nancy was just on her second active week, a virgin still. All Nancy had been doing in Idaho was running down credit thieves. She had to slap a girl once, to get her to stop crying. That's about as much action as she's had. The last time she'd fired her nine-point-nine had been a month ago, during a training exercise.

"So, happy?" Nancy asked.

Rue took a moment to speak, after sipping on her coffee, and returning it to the cup holder. "The twins killed a clerk in Denver. Then pissed on her body," Rue stepped out the car, "Don't hesitate, and don't fuck up." Nancy left the car too, following after Rue.

Idaho was lovely on a clear day, when there was nothing but blue above, except to the north of course, where the mountains stood against the horizon. But those grey and white tipped peaks were pleasing enough to see too. The scenery was one thing she liked about Idaho, at least.

She pulled her handgun out, now heavier then she remembered, or perhaps, she thought, it was just her nerves fooling her. Things were probably going to get hot. Nancy had never shot a girl before or even aimed at one. She could take down practice targets all day long, comfortably without thinking, and was considered a good shot too. But looking down a barrel, pulling the trigger, and watching a girl's body drop to the ground from her own bullet was something she hadn't trained for, a girl can't really. Nancy was wondering if she was ready.

Rue marched right towards the front door, gun out, looking determined or maybe just impatient, hard to tell due to her constant scowl. Nancy hurried behind the restaurant, looking for a backdoor.

Her nose picked up the smell of burning bacon as she turned the corner. Someone was letting it burn, or more likely, had been forced to. She nudged a gate door open with her shoulder. It wasn't locked so it swung freely into a fenced area, where some chickens were roaming. Her footsteps were light enough, but the chickens still dispersed in a fury of clucking and screeching as she came in. _God_ _Damn chickens_. If the twins had heard them, and if they cared, they would come check now. Nancy kicked at a chicken, a brown and white spotted one that was in her path, sending it fluttering away.

She found an old door, color faded, with the wood chipped around the doorknob. Someone must have been locked out before, or, it had been broken in to in the past, figured the social agent. Though the door was locked, she was able to pry the doorknob off with little effort.

Nancy took a second to think. _I'll move in, take them by surprise, order them to drop their weapons, and they will. Then Rue and I will arrest them, and no one fires a shot, no more girls will die._ Nancy wished that it was going to be that easy, but she had a bad feeling. Social Agent Lilac had warned her once, "Life's not a Disneyland ride, darling. Sometimes girls get hurt. Sometimes they die."

There was a sudden rush of wind that rattled the fence and spun up dirt around her. And the smell changed too, the bacon's odor was gone and was replaced by the odor of spent gunpowder. She looked up at the sky and saw, what she didn't want to see. Hanging over the mountainscape, against the blue sky, full and dangerous, the moon had come out early this Idaho afternoon.

Nancy pulled open the door. She did it slowly, worrying about the moon and everything else that could go wrong. _Bang._ _Bang._ _Bang._ Gun shots and girly screams erupted from within. Nancy stalled, tightening the grip on her gun and leaving the door halfway open _. I need to move in_. _Do it now_. But then, right as she went to move, the door slammed open. A girl, with dark brown hair that hung down to her shoulders, and panicked eyes just as deep a brown, pushed into Nancy with a long-barreled rifle. Taken by surprise, Nancy was knocked backwards, tripping to the ground. Nancy's handgun bounced away from her hand. The brown-haired girl didn't stop to look. She just kept running out the gate door.

The air rippled across the dirt as Nancy crawled to her gun. She had to spit out something discolored and nasty, as she stood up with her nine-point-nine once againg in her hand. The dirty wind whipped against her, beating around her uniform coat. She had to pull her cap down tighter, or she would have lost it. More commotion was coming from inside, mostly yelling, but a little crying too. There was no sign of Social Agent Rue yet, so Nancy chased the rifle girl.

Behind the Miss Pancake Restaurant was an empty field. It went on for two hundred yards until small rocks and bushes sprang up, and a hill slowly rose. The Maple girl sprinted that way, while awkwardly clinging to her rifle that was almost as tall as she was.

Nancy cried out, "Stop!"

But the girl couldn't hear or simply ignored the order. She kept running until she found cover behind bushes and squatted down. When Nancy got within fifty yards, the Maple girl whipped her rifle around and looked straight down the barrel at Nancy. At this range, the girl had a clear advantage. Nancy's nine-point-nine was just a handgun, after all.

However, Nancy aimed back, using both hands, and yelled, "Drop it, or I'll shoot." The wind went calm, and it got quiet. Nancy repeated herself again, making sure the girl had a chance to hear her. But she didn't listen again. The girl kept her rifle aimed towards Nancy.

After giving the girl three seconds, Nancy fired. The gun blast was louder then she expected, sounding twice as loud, and it left her ears ringing. The Maple girl slumped first then tumbled forward onto her rifle. Her body lay motionless.

Nancy wasn't sure what emotion she felt, watching a girl die, but she was proud of herself anyway. One shot and a kill at fifty yards wasn't easy.

"Hmph," came a voice from behind her. Social Agent Rue was standing just a few paces away, gun out, barrel smoking. "You hesitated," the older social agent said, "You should have shot before she even turned around."

"The other twin?"

"Dead."

That night, a local reporter interviewed Nancy. Sheryl Willow was her name, just out of journalism school and hungry for a story. Social Agent Rue had left. She had no patience for 'fame-seeking' as she called it. Rue wouldn't even admit she fired the last shot with Nancy on the backside hill. Instead, she let Nancy have all the credit for it.

Miss Willow embellished the showdown more than Nancy liked. Now Nancy's shot was over a hundred yards, dirt in her eyes, and against a gale of wind. Nancy tried to tell the reporter, that she might have missed, and maybe it was Rue that really made the miracle shot. Yet, the reporter wrote the story about only Nancy anyway, and commented in the last paragraph that Nancy Rose never missed, "except once in a full moon."

Nancy wondered if it was really hers or Rue's bullet that killed the Maple twin, because only one bullet hit her actually, right through the heart. But, by the time the article was released, and the praise was given to Nancy, she didn't care. She was just happy she was not known as a virgin anymore.

Troll Cave

Nancy and Lilac were ready at the right time, but they were both at the wrong door. Lilac had taken a different route than planned through the city's subway system. Completely different, in fact. Nancy figured Lilac must have done it purposely, but she wondered if that meant she did not trust the other Social Agents.

Foxglove, definitely, Nancy could understand not trusting her. But Lilac had shown trust in her when Foxglove helped fake the director's death and had made the girl the acting director. She must trust Foxglove for some reason. So the traitor must not be her, Nancy reckoned, but Lilac wasn't telling Nancy what she was thinking, for sure.

Nancy knocked twice on the door and said melodically, "Knock, knock." The door jerked open. Foxglove was standing there. The dark-browed girl had an unhappy look and spoke with her regular coolness, "They have Lily, and someone else." Jasper and Clover lingered behind her.

"Who?" Nancy asked.

"It doesn't matter," Lilac said, "we'll get both."

"It's a man," answered Foxglove, "he's not--"

"Enough about it," Lilac demanded. "Why aren't you with Dandelion?"

"She told me to stay with Clover and Jasper," Foxglove explained. "She wasn't interested in working with the 'so-called acting director.' Ol' Dandy seemed a little pissed that you named me and not her."

"You say something to piss her off?"

"Just told her, the older she got, the uglier she looked."

"I'm ordering you to watch your mouth for the rest of tonight. Now, let's go."

Lilac marched through the doorway. Nancy took a step forward, but stopped when she had a dark thought. _Was the other one him_? Lilac turned back, and snapped, "Let's go." Nancy pressed on.

The basement of Magnolia Tower was two stories underground. The deepest level had ancient bedrock for a floor, so she's heard. Once, an old girl had gotten lost down there, after losing her marbles. The maintenance crew found her, dirty and shivering. The old girl told them about the trolls coming out of the ground. Big, scary, ugly ones, with a taste for little girls. Since then, the very bottom floor was known as the troll cave.

Originally, the very bottom floor was going to connect to the city metro system directly, but Miss Magnolia changed her mind during construction. The Chinese workers went on strike, demanding better pay. Miss Magnolia locked their leader in the troll cave for two days, before Social Agents forced her to release the girl. After that, Miss Magnolia lost interest in the project.

The door to the stairwell leading down to the bottom level was padlocked and chained heavily. Nancy noticed a print of Miss Magnolia tacked to the door. The rich girl's face was overdrawn with grotesque features like a big crooked nose, overly hairy eyebrows, and a long pointy chin. "Beware of trolls" was written on top. Magnolia must not be popular with the service staff down here.

Foxglove pulled out her handgun, put her back to the wall, and nodded ahead down the hallway. Lilac, with her gun out too, took the lead past a pair of double doors. The doors were already cracked open, so the old girl just nudged them gently, opening them slowly.

Through the doors was a shadowy place with sections totally hidden from sight. Lining the ceiling were scattered hanging lamps and industrial pipes. It was large too; the supporting concrete columns had fifteen to twenty feet between each one. And the whole area stunk strongly of mildew.

Sitting in a pair of metal chairs, lit up from one of the hanging lamps, was Lily plus the other unknown one. Both were chained around their torso and had black bags over their heads. Neither was moving, but Nancy could see the faint signs of breathing coming from Lily. She was alive. The other one, though, was dead still. Blood ran down his chest like he had bled out from his throat. Nancy took a hard breath. _It can't be him. I told him to leave. He's at the beach watching the sun go down_. _He must be_.

Near the bagged captives, with her legs up crossed on a table and doing her finger nails, was the girl with the black-tear tattoos. _Miss Narcissus_. The girl had headphones on, so she wasn't paying any attention to anything else but her own finger nails. Lying across the table's center was an old-fashioned single-barrel shotgun, many decades old it looked like, and before the registration no doubt.

A girl's voice came out of the shadows, "I'm feeling itchy, I want to do something, something fun."

"You've had enough," another hidden voice answered. This one deeper and grumbling.

"The little daughter-of-a-whore didn't tell us nothing," the first voice continued, "I don't wanna wait around here, doing nothing. Let's dip her and get lost. She's useless anyhow."

"No. We don't do anything unless the queen tells us to. But you can get lost if you got to."

"Well, Fuck it." A girl's voice said, followed by the sound of footsteps. A skinny girl in a tiny tank top that barely covered her chest soon came out of the dark. On her head was a pair of ponytails jutting out the back, and over her eyes, she wore shadowy make-up. As the girl moved more into the light, Nancy spotted the coiled snake on her right arm, and a knife, dirty from blood, was in her hand. When she plunged the knife's tip down into the table, Miss Narcissus jolted from her finger work, and gave a vulgar gesture as payback. Pony-tails just snickered and moved on, heading straight towards the double doors.

Lilac whispered to Foxglove, "You take her, no noise."

Foxglove nodded back and holstered her weapon. At the moment pony-tails moved an inch into the hallway, Foxglove hit her in the throat, squeezing her voice box with a grip, and knocked her down to her knees with a solid side kick. The girl's eyes flared in shock. She tried struggling, but foxglove had her too tight.

All the Social Agents aimed their gun barrels down at the girl. "If you make a noise, you get dipped," Clover said with a hushed voice, giving the girl a quick wink afterward.

The girl couldn't talk. Her mouth could only manage a weak grunt. Foxglove dragged the girl, sliding her legs on the concrete, away from the doorway.

"With your fingers," and Lilac wiggled her own as an example, "how many of you are in there?"

The girl held up two.

"Just two?" Foxglove spoke. "Well, we should have plenty of bullets."

"Quiet," Lilac said, and returned her attention back to the ponytailed girl. "Is the general here? In the building? Just nod, yes or no."

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you know who the general is?"

The girl nodded.

Nancy noticed red specks sprayed over the girl's face and body. A nice bloody smear was on her tank top, where the girl had wiped her hand or the knife's blade before. And the girl stank of fresh blood, the familiar iron-like odor that Social Agents were sensitive to, and she guessed the blood was less than an hour old.

Finding the courage, Nancy asked, "Is the man alive?" But she wasn't so sure she wanted the answer.

Pony-tails quivered and didn't say. The girl must be realizing how much trouble she's in. Foxglove squeezed her tighter, "Answer the question man-killer."

The girl shook her head. And with that, Nancy's chest squeezed, and her heart pounded. She wanted to go to sleep, and forget about everything again. But she fought that feeling, she was working. _It's not him. It can't be. Relax. Focus_. She exhaled.

"You better hope he's alive," Clover said, and she tapped the girl on the head with her handgun. "You might not make it to court in one piece. It happens from time to time. Social agents get careless when in a bad mood."

"Stop teasing her," Lilac said. "Jasper, you're a virgin still. So it's your job to take away the trash. Restrain her good, and make sure she can't make a peep. You'll be our backup, so hustle."

"Okay director," Jasper said, dragging ponytails away, making sure to keep a grip on the girl's throat.

"Now," Lilac said, "Foxglove you go in first. Find that other unseen girl, take her out silently. Clover, you go with her, in case there's more than just one. There's no reason to trust what that Sicarii said. Rose and I will move on the table. Take the shotgun, and deal with that teen. If gun shots go off, it's not the end of the world. We are two stories underground and separated by concrete." Lilac then looked at Nancy purposely, "But let's avoid shooting if we can. And remember, no matter what happens or what we see, the package is the priority. Ready, Foxglove?"

"Always sharp," Foxglove pulled out her handgun.

Lilac looked to Nancy and Clover, and they both nodded.

"Okay girls."

Foxglove moved in, moving smoothly. She sprang up against columns, not making a sound, making her movements seem animal-like and sleek. Clover did her best, trailing behind her, but compared to Foxglove, the girl seemed clumsy.

Lilac was stiff, to say the least, as the old girl marched up to the table and snatched the shotgun. And when the black-teared girl locked eyes with Lilac, the girl's mouth gaped wide, and Lilac nailed the girl on the forehead with the shotgun's stock, knocking Miss Narcissus to the floor.

Nearby, a girl yelled. Nancy whirled her handgun around in that direction. Foxglove had found that other Sicarii. The girl stood over six feet tall and had an ugly, hard face with a unibrow, and a body that had tattoos for skin, making her almost black enough to fade into the background. She was also taller than Foxglove and Clover by a foot, at least, giving her arms a length advantage on both of them.

For a second, Nancy thought Foxglove and Clover might be in trouble. Nancy aimed her handgun in case she needed to take a shot. The tall girl had already flattened short little Clover. She was on her hands and knees scurrying for her loose gun. Foxglove was desperately wrestling the tall girl for her own gun. Nancy aimed, looking for a head shot.

Yet, Foxglove found an angle, and struck the tall girl in the back of her elbow, snapping it like a chicken wing. The tall girl gave out a mumble before finally releasing her hold on the gun and melting to the floor. Foxglove put the gun to the girl's head, "Don't fucking move."

Foxglove was good, Nancy had to admit. There weren't many social agents she could think of, that could handle tall and ugly without just shooting.

Lilac quickly moved to Lily and tore the bag off the girl's head. The redhead's green eyes opened, mostly anyway. Her right eye was bloodied and swollen, and could only open part way. Those eyes, once bright and annoyingly cheerful, watered up when they saw Lilac.

Lily's face had been beaten and slashed. Clumps of her hair had been hacked off, and flung to the floor. The girl was a mess. All the damage would be hard to fix, but at least she was breathing. The first thing the girl said, spluttering from her raw lips, "Director... they didn't get anything from me."

Lilac with a heavy tone said, "It looks that way, darling."

The director then slipped off the other bag on the unknown man. The old girl sighed, "Looks like we'll need another doorboy."

Nancy didn't want to look, but her eyes kept darting that direction anyhow. The dead man wasn't him. They had butchered the doorboy. His throat was sliced ear to ear. Lilac stroked the boy's hair, "Sorry, I couldn't keep you safe."

"They said he was a pig," Lily had red tears running down her face. "But he was my friend."

When the black-teared girl stirred, Nancy fixed gung on the girl. "You're under arrest, and if you're smart and behave yourself, just that."

"Safety maid," Natalie managed to blurt out, "we've been looking for you. Mom misses you. I can take you to her--"

Nancy stepped on the girl's hand, pressing down enough to make the girl groan. "Is dear ol' Mom here?" Nancy asked, "Are her criminal army buddies here too? Tell me everything," Nancy demanded, "or I'll make it hurt worse."

"You gotta help the baby--"

Nancy pressed her boot down harder, making the girl's hand crack. The girl squealed before pleading, "PLEASE! I need your help."

_I know, but too late_. "Sorry, that train has left the station, sweetie."

The black-teared girl tried attacking, over and over, with her free arm, but her pathetic struggling amounted to nothing. Natalie was still just a child, after all, and had no strength to muster against a Social Agent, especially in her position. Nancy gave the girl a little time to try, hoping this would wear her out, and force the little thing to submit fully. She didn't want to hurt her, a lot, just enough to make her point. The girl needed to see that she had no choice but to cooperate with the social agents. Finally the girl quit, and began to sniffle.

"Honey," Nancy said, "you need to tell me where the general is. There's no escaping us or talking yourself out of this."

"Whatever," Natalie said, "Mom's in the air. She told me that not all the safety maids would be cool with the plan. But some were "true girls." They didn't want to live in a man's world. Not all girls were so dumb. So Mom was happier than a poor girl on Discount Day when the old director fell down the stairs. Then mom got pissed again when ol' dark and foxy got the job. Mom is mostly pissed off at everything. The queens really wanted--"

"Shut up," the tattooed girl yelled at Natalie. Right away, Foxglove punched the girl's head with a solid cross, knocking the girl out cold onto the concrete. "You shut up, ugly." Foxglove then kissed her knuckles and shook her fingers.

Nancy urged Natalie, "Don't stop talking. It will only get worse if you do."

"Sure, safety maid," Natalie said while straining to get comfortable with her hand mashed on to the floor, "did I tell you how I got my tear drops?" The young girl had a wicked look to her face. "They're not for men, or boyfriends, or babies, or any bullshit like that. This one..." Natalie touched the left tear drop. "is for Karen Thistle, and this one..." The girl touched the right tear. "is Rene Jasmine. My mom made me shoot them both. Right in the head. POW! She told me that's what disloyal girls deserve. A bullet in the head."

"Nice story," Nancy said, unimpressed, "you just admitted to the murder of two social agents. Now, finish what you were saying before."

"I was going to put another tear drop under Jasmine's for you, but maybe now I'll put it above my ass crack. So whenever I'm looking at my ass, I'll think of you. And all the safety maids here too, maybe." Nancy pressed down completely with her weight onto her hand, causing the black-teared girl to screech out in pain. "Stay on topic," Nancy insisted, "now tell me, who's a 'true girl?'"

"Stop it," the black-teared girl was reeling from pain, while uselessly trying to squirm her hand out from underneath Nancy's boot. "The Lion is the Queen of Diamond's rag doll," the girl said frantically, "Mom told me. She's a true girl. The queens wanted her to be the new director when the other one died. The queens were getting tired of safety maids messing around with the Sicarii. Safety maids are supposed to keep girls safe, not dumb men."

"Interesting," she put the side of her gun's barrel up on her own lips to think a bit and let off pressure with her boot, allowing the girl to slip her hand out. "Social Agent Rue, is she a 'true girl?'"

"Don't know, don't care, safety maid." Natalie cradled her hand.

"Oh, sorry," Nancy said, with a mocking pout, "looks like you'll need medical help to do your nails from now on."

As Lilac finished unchaining Lily and helped the girl to her feet, a burst of gunfire was heard. Lilac handed the girl her own handgun. "Sweetheart, I'm gonna need you to work, if you can." Lily was shaky in handling the gun, but the girl hoisted it up to her wrecked face, and struck a pose. "Always sharp, director." More gun shots erupted, getting closer.

Foxglove was already moving to the double doors, and Lilac was counting shells from the shotgun, when Lily wobbled into position behind a column, across from Clover. But Nancy had the sobbing teen to baby sit. "Get up," she said, motioning with her handgun, "go cry in the corner." She snagged a handful of black hair and forced the girl to get up and walk. "If you try to run, I'll shoot you. Remember, I only miss once a full moon."

With a dizzy step, Jasper came stumbling through the double doorway, her body had been lit up by gun fire and had bloody splotches across it. Clover held up Jasper as the girl tried to talk. "Black Hat," the girl muttered, "I told them I was a Social Agent, but they just started shooting."

Lilac finished reloading the shotgun. "Fine." The director didn't look happy. "Jasper lie down, and keep your weapon ready, if you can." Clover helped the girl to the concrete, but as soon as she was down, Jasper released her gun and closed her eyes.

Above the social agents, the ceiling lamps flicked off, row by row, until only the dim red emergency lights were seen. Nancy thought about pulling a flashlight, but she didn't want to give away her position. Little Natalie hunched down, and had a bit of fear in the girl's eyes. Nancy figured the girl wasn't running anywhere, for sure.

An instant later, a terrible grating noise came from the maintenance elevator. Nancy turned toward it. The elevator ground down and stopped at their level. "Rose, watch it," Lilac yelled. The elevator doors slid open with a ding. Leading with her handgun, Nancy moved closer to see what was inside, after casually knocking the black-teared girl back to the floor.

An achilles suit, crimson and silver, gleamed in the elevator light. A heavy machine gun was cradled in its armored hands, sixty-six caliber if Nancy guessed right, and that had enough firepower to penetrate thick concrete. "Go to AP," Nancy shouted, frantically switching her gun magazine. The girl in the suit had the advantage in here, especially in the dark. Night Vision came standard on military grade. This wasn't going to be easy, she worried.

BOOM! A deafening blast echoed. Lilac's shotgun smoked. "Here they come. Shoot to kill, if they're armed." Lily and Clover opened up, providing suppression fire at the double doorway, while Foxglove moved up closer on the wall, searching for a better angle.

Clover paused, and took a chance, switching to her AP magazine, then she moved back and took cover by the elevator. The achilles suit strolled in, with the elevators doors shutting, as it lifted the machine gun, scanning the basement. Nancy took an aimed shot and hit the helmet, but not the visor she was aiming for. The bullet only caused a shallow crack. Nancy continued firing, still missing the visor, but banging up the suit with fractures. _Damn, I can't see enough_. The achilles suit wheeled its heavy weapon around towards her and unloaded. The noise was so intense, that everything else, including her own gunfire, was drowned out. When she yelled, "Take cover," she heard nothing from her own mouth. The white hot bullets soared over her body as Nancy dove to the floor. Natalie had her ears covered, and was mouthing something, probably spiteful and vulgar, but Nancy couldn't hear that either.

When the machine gun singed to a smoky stop, Nancy began firing again, and this time Clover joined her. They rattled the armor, over and over, until the armored girl wavered some, but they both got no real penetration. The achilles suit opened up its machinegun to fire again, flooding the room with a spray of more bullets. Dust burst out of the columns as the bullets struck them, filling the basement with a haze.

Nancy looked around and made out that Lily was down and Lilac was wounded, the old girl was limping about trying to find cover. Nancy's ears were ringing, and she couldn't hear if Lilac was giving orders or if anyone was. Her AP magazine was empty now, and when she looked to Clover, the girl shook her head while holding up her own handgun. _She's out too_. Nancy switched to regular rounds.

The girl in the achilles suit moved erratically, it seemed, as she scanned for more targets. The dust had given the social agents a moment of relief. Lilac fired off a shell, tinging the suit with buckshot, uselessly, unless it was for distraction. Nancy motioned at Clover to go for the elevator doors. The girl nodded and raced towards them. The priority was the package, Nancy remembered, nothing else mattered.

Lilac fired again from behind cover, and this time the achilles suit fired back. The machine gun ripped through the column that Lilac was behind, filling the old girl with holes. Lilac stumped forward, and then fell face first onto the concrete. Nancy's ears were still blown, so she couldn't hear the scream, not that she believed the director would have anyway.

When the elevator opened, more light was let in. The achilles suit wheeled around and heaved up its weapon, readying to fire again. Nancy could see the visor clearly now, and it was cracked. She squeezed off a shot from one knee and nailed the visor, shattering what was left of it. The achilles suit lurched forward with an awkward step, then collapsed face first with a metallic smack. Nancy exhaled.

At the other double doors, the Black Hat girls started filing in. Nancy looked for Foxglove but couldn't see her. The girl was probably down too. Snapping up a handful of black hair, she pulled Natalie into the maintenance elevator with her. Clover pushed the button for the top floor, and the doors slid shut.

The maintenance elevator shot straight up, grinding and screeching against the shaft. Her ears were recovering slowly, and that was too bad too, because she could hear Miss Narcissus. "...take me to my mom, now, safety maid. This is too fucking nuts. Just take me..."

Nancy smacked her face against the wall, "I am."

Nancy then pressed the eleventh button, which caused a sudden stop at the eleventh floor. "Take another elevator up," Nancy told Clover, "Be sharp." Clover slapped a new magazine into her handgun. "Right. You too." Clover slipped through the opening doors, making a run for it. The floor looked empty, luckily.

Natalie was rubbing her face. "She's gonna die. Mom is going to kill her. Just like you." Natalie sniffled some. "Mom's waiting, all dressed up in her metal best." Nancy forced an emergency start by typing in a three digit emergency code on the panel. The doors shut with a metallic clap, and the elevator kicked upward faster. "No," she turned back to Natalie, "I'm going to arrest your mother and put her in prison for rest of her life, just like you will be. But you'll be in a juvenile prison until you're of age. Trust me, it's not much better. And little Natalie, they are gonna remove those tear drops from your face. They might need to scrape the skin to do that. Sorry, sweetie."

Natalie rolled up in the corner, holding her legs close. "You safety maids are all too fucking cocky. That's why you get dipped so much." Natalie had a point, sort of; social agents were cocky actually, more than they should, and many had fallen hard because of that. But Nancy wasn't feeling that confident right now, not really. She was putting on a show. Perhaps, Nancy thought, it was all just a show for other social agents too, even Foxglove.

She waited until the elevator closed in on the fifty-fifth floor and hit the button. It slid to a stop. "C'mon." Nancy pulled the black-teared girl to her feet. "We are taking another elevator." This time, the girl didn't have to be dragged or pulled, she walked, but her arms were crossed and she had a pouty face. She was quiet too, and Nancy loved that.

Another girl, in business dress, nearly walked in their way. Before the girl could open her mouth, Nancy cut her off, "Out of my way, or you will be arrested." The business girl shuddered, and kept on walking, making sure not to dare to look back.

"You're rude too," Natalie mentioned. "All safety maids are."

"We have to be."

In the floor's center, they came upon the regular civilian elevators. Framed by gold and nine feet tall, the doors had an inlaid gold design on them. Separated down the middle, a diamond shape was on the face of the doors. And above them, a gold needle pointed to tiny diamonds for each tenth floor. It had a digital readout that showed the precise floor too. The gold was just shiny paint on steel, but she wondered if the diamonds might be real. She pushed the button to call the elevator, and the needle began to turn.

Natalie spoke up, "I have to pee." The black-teared girl looked at her wrist watch. "I really do."

"Then piss yourself."

The door dinged open with a bell sound, much nicer than the maintenance elevator's chime. She shoved the black-teared girl in.

Inside, the sound system was on. A rush of cheers could be heard, while an old girl's voice spoke over them. "Oh, it's Mother _Most_ Superior," said Natalie, "Mom thinks she's annoying." Mother Carnation's speech was being broadcast from the plaza. Nancy wished there was an off button.

".... And it was this way too, even in the time of men. God judged you every second, _and in_ the seconds within a second. There's an infinite amount of time in just one second for God. Now imagine how long eternal life is in God's kingdom. Eternity is very long, and life is so short. We only get one short life here on his earthly kingdom to prove to God we deserve his love. And who does God and Holy Mary love? His faithful girls. He must. Because we are here standing, are we not? And we girls have always been here. It is not right, unlike what some girls believe, to go against God's will. When a judgment is made, we must accept it and never doubt God's wisdom...."

Miss Narcissus was eyeing her watch again. Nancy asked, "Late for something, sweetie?" The girl gave a rude look and stopped looking.

"...To undo God's work is an act of rebellion. Those that do, say, 'we know better than God.' and 'God made a mistake.' As all faithful know, God does not make a mistake. His ability to judge and punish, righteously, is perfect. Do not believe those girls that tell you this isn't true. Remind those girls, of God and Holy Mary's perfection. And then turn your back on them until they repent of their error. And they will someday. For if they do not, they will not be allowed in God's heavenly kingdom. They will _not_ be given his love. And they will be cast down to hell with all others that denied God's judgment. If your sister is in error, tell her the truth, if it's your mother, do the same. Their soul depends on it. I'm reminded of the story of Jove..."

"Blah, blah, blah," Natalie said, "she likes to go on, and on, and on."

"Your mother must be a real church girl."

"Not really."

The elevator finally stopped. The doors opened, and a chilly wind filled the box. The black-teared girl covered herself, as best she could with her arms and slouched down as she walked out the doors. Nancy just aimed her handgun forward and stepped into the night on the roof of Magnolia Tower, right behind the girl.

Above their heads, massive and lit up from signal lights, was the zeppelin. Like a giant silver torpedo, with a passenger area stuck under its belly. It was mesmerizing, floating in the air, seemingly immobilized because of its gigantic size, even though the wind blew and knocked the streamers and ropes anchoring it to the roof around in a frenzy.

A bridge connected the passenger gate to the roof. Girls strolled off the zeppelin onto the tower. Rich girls from the look of them. Some of them even had ridiculous furs draped over their backs and feathered hats on their heads. Just a line of idle, snotty girls, Nancy thought, who took a zeppelin instead of a plane because they could. Mother Carnation's voice was booming off monitors here as well...

"...and what lesson do we learn. Do not doubt God's plan. There is always a reason. Even if you can't see it. Remember God gives love only to those that deserve his love. And to those that deny him, _death_. In this world, and the next. In _this_ world and the next. Death. Forever. God's final judgment will come..."

"Shit," Natalie looking up at the zeppelin, "I hope that airship doesn't blow up."

"What?"

Then, a groaning noise arose, and a bright whiteness from inside grew in the zeppelin's body. Just a second, or less, _a second within a second_ , and then it went boom. Girly screams filled the air as girls were blown off the roof top and off the bridge. They fell, clawing at nothing as they dropped while their fancy coats and hats floated in the wind, dancing downward to the streets below.

Nancy held the rail, and hugged the black-teared girl against it, making sure the girl didn't fall over the side. A light scent hung over the air now. She couldn't quite place it, but it smelled chemical, like bug spray, mixed with old blood. Nancy realized there, breathing it in, _the package was the airship_.

The fires from the explosion faded quickly. The carcass of the airship sank down, over the side of the tower, taking with it what was left of the bridge. The monitors were now fuzz, and no more Mother Most Superior preaching. The sounds of girls screaming, though faint, floated up from the plaza below.

"Rose," a voice called, Clover's voice Nancy could tell.

"Clover," she answered back.

"I think we missed our package," the freckled-face girl said, as she ran, gun in hand and boots pounding, towards Nancy. The girl skipped over an old girl faced down, shaking and crying.

"I know," Nancy said, sadly.

"What do we do?"

Nancy paused a moment, and answered, "I don't know."

The wind was picking up again, and that smell, that subtle ugly smell disappeared, blowing throughout the city. _I can't shoot it. I can't stop it. God and Holy Mary._ The black-teared girl picked her nose, deeply, and then tried to wipe her finger on Nancy's uniform coat. Nancy smacked her hand away.

"It's done," said another girl's voice.

Turning, she saw Social Agent Dandelion and Social Agent Rue. Both of them, with their nine-point-nines in hand, pointed down. "There's nothing to do now," Dandelion said, "Let Natalie go, and they will leave you alone."

"Social agents don't let criminals just go, Dandy. Sorry, Lion," Nancy said. Clover giggled a little at that, and so did the black-teared girl, but much softer.

"They aren't true girls, Dandy," said Natalie. "You'll have to shoot them both."

"No," Dandelion half-laughed. "Nancy, just let the girl go, easy as pie."

"Who cares, Dandelion," Rue said. "We aren't babysitters."

Dandelion got annoyed. "We were told to get Natalie, safely."

The wind was calming down, and everything was getting still and quieter. The sound of yells from below faded away. Nancy wondered how many bullets were left in her magazine. Though Clover kept up a cocky smirk, she must be worried about the same thing as Nancy; Dandelion and Rue, both, carried full magazines.

"Just do what I say, Rose," Dandelion was getting impatient. Rue's gun hand twitched slightly. Nancy didn't know for sure what to expect from Social Agent Dandelion, but most believe she was the best. Rue, on the other hand, she knew personally, and knew her to be a good shot, but bad at impulse control. Nancy remembered when they had both took down the bandit twins in Idaho. Rue had made it messier than needed, but then, things tended to get messy when things get hot.

She heard Clover mumble an insult under her breath; at least, she figured it was. Maybe the girl said a prayer instead. Dandelion stared with her big blue eyes, and smiled coyly with her candy-apple red lips. Rue's dark eyes squinted, and danced back and forth from Nancy, to Clover, to Dandelion, and then back again.

"Last chance, Rose and Clover," Dandelion said like she was about to yawn.

"Your last chance too," Nancy responded, feeling the cold more in the night now. Her gun's metal stung through her glove. Nancy whispered, "Me right, you left." Clover nodded.

"Oh, this is so unfortunate." Dandelion straightened her back.

Rue moved suddenly and fired first. A red spray shot out in the air followed by Dandelion's body dropping. There wasn't a scream or a cry from Dandelion, only a sound of a lone gun blast echoed in the air. Rue had blown a hole out the side of the old girl's head. Nancy and Clover stood alert with both their handguns aimed at Rue.

"Hmph," Rue said as smoke billowed from her weapon and her eyes watched curiously the fumes fading away. "I really, really didn't want that fake cunt to become director."

Clover exclaimed, "God and Holy Mary."

"Whoa, what-the-fuck," said the black-teared girl.

Rue, after taking a second to put away her gun, said, "I should have shot her before, but I needed to know what was what first."

"You're not with them?" Nancy asked.

"I let Dandy think I was. It was easy too. I just didn't talk much. She liked that arrangement of course. She got to do all the talking. A month ago, I warned Lilac that I heard her bragging about being best friends with Miss Magnolia. We both figured she was up to something. So Lilac told me to watch her."

Nancy lowered her gun with Clover following.

"But," Rue continued, "I didn't expect it to be this bad. The Magnolia sisters are working with the man-killers, and Dandy was helping them so she could be director."

"Okay," Nancy said, "We need to warn the city and get every man out of town."

"Hmph, it's too late. _W_ _e_ need to get out of the city. All the social agents do. It's not just the Magnolia sisters--"

The monitors clicked on again with a crackle. The voice of Mother Most Superior, Mother Carnation, and Mother Damnation, rang through again...

"Sisters. Do not be scared. God's word is truth. And he has just sent a mighty archangel with a fiery sword, once again, to banish those that defy God, and to protect his creation. But who has defied God the most? Who, my sisters, has harmed you all? Who has told you how to live, what to listen to, where you should go, what you can buy? They conspire against you when God has given you freedom, true freedom. They think they are better than you. Don't they? Because they think they are better than God. They think they are more holy than Holy Mary, herself. And because of this, they have set themselves above you, looked down upon you, and bullied you all because, because they don't trust you--when you are daughters of God..."

"Oh man," Clover said, "we need to get out of here."

"Hmph, yup," commented Rue with her usual scowl. "You got it."

"...They are the enemies of God. Social agents. Safety maids. Whatever you call them. Who gave them this authority? Not God and Holy Mary. Not the church. Not you. NOT you...."

"Let's head back to the subways," Nancy suggested.

"No," Rue said stiffly.

A wave of noise lifted up suddenly. The sound of a hundred thousand girls roaring, all at once, rose from the streets like a storm.

Clover asked, "What did Carnation just tell them."

"The Mother just said, 'Kill them all.' _Us_ all," Rue answered. "We can't go down."

"We can't exactly stay here." Clover was showing a little worry on her face now.

"I say we pay a visit to Miss Magnolia," said Rue, as she collected an extra magazine off Dandelion's body. "Before they figure out what happened here on the roof."

Nancy wasn't sure what to do. Director Lilac was dead and everyone else left in the basement, including poor Lily, was most likely too. The virus was airborne and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. _You can't shoot a virus_. The whole city was against the social agents and would be coming for them soon. The night couldn't have gone worse reckoned Nancy.

From a distance, the whooping sound of helicopter blades rose in the night, slowly growing louder, and more menacing. The black-teared girl blurted out, "Mom."

"Right," Nancy said. "Let's go see Miss Magnolia."

The Knight

Mother Most Superior had set the city on fire with her words. Smoke fumed out the windows of the US Social Agent Building, and its glass doors were smashed. A riot girl had Athena's spear in her hand, raised high above her head, dancing on top of an overturned van. The girls surrounding her, chanted from the street, "Hail to God! We are free!"

The police were gone, mostly. The majority crawled into the nooks and crannies of the city's concrete, hiding, and others ran away through the subways. Some had actually joined in with the riot.

Social Agent Rue led Rose and Clover to the executive elevator, a secret only known by Miss Magnolia and her rich friends. Small, cylindrical, and silvery, it barely had enough room for the three of them, plus the little one, who had her butt forced to the patterned carpet floor by Nancy. The black-teared girl had yelled curses, when Nancy had thrown her over the shoulder and unloaded the girl into the elevator like a sack of potatoes. Miss Narcissus was still complaining, but under her breath now, after Clover had promised to shoot her if the girl didn't shut up.

Clover was wounded in the leg, but she didn't whine about it. She had taken a shot from the Black Top girls before she made it into the elevator. Tassel Rue had nailed two Black Top girls herself, forcing the security girls to take cover, which gave the other Social Agents time to get to the elevator. Nancy wanted this to be over. But there was too much work to do. _A girl's work is never done_.

"Now, what?" Clover asked, holding her leg.

"We are going to the Ninety-ninth floor," answered Rue, "Magnolia's private office."

The trip down took just a few seconds. When the elevator stopped, gently and silently, the doors eased apart. And they all entered, with Nancy pulling Natalie along behind them.

There was a slender figure in a midnight-black gown and matching heels, facing out the huge window that took up the entire wall of the office. Her back was naked where a design was cut like a diamond shape into the dress. Her hair, just as dark as her dress, or close enough, was up in a tight bun, which left the neck uncovered, and revealed a necklace of silver and colored gems. In her right hand she held a glass of champagne. Nancy could smell the girl's flowery cologne from across the room.

"All dressed up with your drink," Nancy said, her voice very curt. "Tell me. What's the celebration?"

The girl turned her head, not fast; she wasn't jolted by the voice of another person. She had a thin, elegant face, attractive but not overly pretty. Her brown eyes were deeply highlighted by eye shadow, and her long lashes were blackened just as much. A pair of dark tear streaks went down her cheeks. "Love," answered the girl like she didn't mean it. Her scornful, and sad tone gave that away.

"Where's Miss Magnolia?" Rue asked while pointing her gun at the black-dressed girl.

"Right here."

"No, your sister Lucy. The real Magnolia."

The brunette motioned to the floor behind the desk, and repeated, "Right here." Nancy shoved the black-teared girl onto a couch right beside Clover, who was putting pressure on her wound with her hand.

Rue and Nancy walked around the desk. And there, they found Miss Magnolia on her back, in her black and white gown with her diamond necklace tangled tightly around her neck. Her eyes were still open in shock.

"I had to say goodbye to my sister tonight," the black-dressed girl said. "She wasn't happy, neither was I, at least, not with each. When I told her the plan wasn't going to work, she got upset. And she was already in one of her moods. So, I was forced to strangle her with her own diamonds, in self-defense, of course."

"Of course," Nancy said, "and now you're the richest girl in America."

"Who could think of such a thing right now?" The rich girl said slightly amused. "But you're right."

"Tell us about the plan," Nancy demanded, "what went wrong?"

"I changed the package. And hid theirs, deeply and safely... away."

"You did this to save men?"

"I did this for _one_ man."

_Lady Diamond._ Nancy remembered the story that Page Tulip had told earlier. "Okay. Where's the real package now? You need to turn it over to us immediately."

The girl then moved to the desk, switched her empty champagne glass for a half-filled one on the desk, and said, "My sister won't be needing hers, I suppose," and took a sip. "You are not safe here. Security will come soon, and General Iris, I imagine. But I offer you a fair trade. The teenager for the package."

"No way, safety maid," said Natalie. "She's gone boy-crazy or something."

"No," Nancy answered, "She's under arrest. And in my custody."

"And where will you take her? The Social Agent Building is gone. And the Social Agents will be gone by the morning. All of them. Mother Most Superior has seen to that. It's time to stop playing little miss federal officer. Tomorrow afternoon, the Lady General of the Department of Safety will announce the dissolution of the US Social Agents. I have this on good authority from the capital."

"Hmph," Rue said, "you girls were just leading Dandelion on about becoming the director."

The rich girl cracked a grin behind the glass she was sipping.

"Still, no," Nancy said, "now, tell us where the package is."

"Time's running out, social agent," the rich girl said, "if security shuts off the power, you won't be able to leave in the executive elevator."

"Rose," Clover spoke up, "Lilac said the package was the priority, and nothing else matters." Those were the director's orders, and Nancy had to agree. The package was the reason they were all here, after all. There was a sudden annoyance in realizing that Nancy was going to have to let Miss Narcissus go, again. Though, the girl didn't seem happy about being traded.

"Don't," the black-teared girl demanded. "She's bad, really bad--" Clover slapped her hand down on the girl's mouth, "shut up."

"Let's drop her," Rue said.

"Yes, drop her," said the rich girl, Miss Magnolia. And she was Miss Magnolia, the only one now. The rich girl must want Natalie as a bargaining chip with the Queen of Spades, obviously. The general will be just as 'upset' about the failed plan as the former Miss Magnolia, Queen of Diamonds, was. No wonder Lilac didn't want her girls investigating into this spider's web.

"Fine," Nancy said, but she wasn't happy about it.

Miss Magnolia motioned to let the black-teared girl go. "Don't worry Natalie, my dear, I can use you." Clover released her. The black-teared girl was nervous and hesitant, but slowly moved toward the desk. Turning back to Nancy, she stuck out her tongue to Nancy.

Miss Magnolia pulled out a drawer and retrieved a golden ring of keys. "There," she said, tossing the ring on top of the desk.

Nancy picked the keys up and examined them. "And?"

" _And_ you girls will need those when you go down to the bottom level, the real bottom level. The workers call it the 'troll cave' or something ridiculous like that. Move east on the bedrock. Use the keys for all the locks. You'll meet a girl with the package. You might need to open her up a little, but she'll give it to you, just tell her Lady Diamond said so, if she does ask. Then keep moving east. It will be a little run, but a social agent should have no issue. You will eventually meet where the water comes in, at the shoreline. This will be the exit for you. From there, do as you will."

"We'll be back to arrest you if you are playing games with us," Nancy had to say. Clover chuckled and Rue just groaned.

Nancy and Rue turned and left then. Clover followed behind, now limping more heavily. Blood was seeping out, turning her leg's right pant leg a darker color, almost blue. She said, "I got it," as she entered the elevator.

Natalie Narcissus rolled her eyes at Nancy as the elevator doors smoothly shut. Miss Magnolia's voice was heard calling out, "Now fix me drink, or I'll have you thrown out the window before your mom gets here."

Nancy pressed the button for the bottom level. The elevator traveled down with a nice whoosh, quiet and steady.

"Not sure if we should trust her," Clover commented, "but we have nothing to lose now."

"She's no man-killer, at least, no matter what else she is," Nancy said. "The priority is the package, regardless."

"And when we get the package?" Rue asked.

"We take it to the capital and show them what the Sicarii have been up to."

"Hmph."

When the elevator stopped, the doors slid open. There was nothing but darkness and the cold still air outside the elevator. They pulled their flashlights out and shined them. It was an empty place except for the concrete ceiling and primeval ground. The chipped, broken rock floor seemed to go on forever. But no trolls so far, thought Nancy.

Checking her tech-watch, Nancy said, "East is this way." They all started to march, with their boots crunching over the rocks.

About thirty feet forward, an altar of stone was seen. A dark red stain covered the entirety of its top. Around the base were bones, seemingly human from the looks of them. _I don't want to see this_ _now._

Rue picked up a skull, half-broken and missing its jaw, and curiously eyed it. "So it's true." She then laid the skull on the altar, on the tip of its head, and tried to spin it. "I've been hearing stories about Miss Magnolia's troll cave."

The Queen of Diamonds must have had her private blood parties down here. Nancy wondered if the new Miss Magnolia had wanted them to see this for a reason. But it didn't matter now, those boys were already dead, and they needed to save the rest.

"I vote, we keep on walking," Clover said.

Rue walked on, not saying a word, followed by Nancy, who was struggling to get what she saw out of her mind.

The first set of doors they came to was padlocked closed. Nancy placed her light under her arm and fiddled through the golden ring of keys. She was forced to try nearly every one, until finally a key turn in the lock. Clover was beginning to breathe heavily, and the girl was slouching more and more.

"Clover," Nancy said, "are you good?"

"Good to go," the social agent answered, and pressed on, but a bit slower.

Beyond the double doors they entered a tunnel lined with rock, just like a cave. They hadn't been walking through it long, before they discovered a girl's corpse. Rue's light was the first to spot it. The body was that of an unknown girl, probably twenty or close to that. The skin was red to purple colored, meaning she had been deceased for a while. Each social agent sniffed near her, and they came up with an average of six hours dead.

"Taking a guess," mentioned Clover, "this is our girl with the package."

"Hmph. But no package."

Nancy shined her light tighter on the body. She noticed a bulge in it's abdominal. Crouching down, and feeling with her gloved hand, the bulge felt solid. "Something is here."

Rue slipped out a folded knife from her jacket and held it out to Nancy. "Cut it out."

"Gross," Clover said.

"Alright." And Nancy began slicing. But before she was a fifth of the way done, she found stitches, like from a C-section. She kept cutting.

"How'd they get it in there?" Clover asked.

"How do you think?" Nancy answered.

Clover didn't respond back.

The dead girl must have been killed by a crude job at smuggling. At least, it looked that way to Nancy. She had seen this before, but with smaller things like bags of pills, or even a small handgun. They were more professionally done though, so the girl could survive.

Finally, after cutting away enough, she stuck in her hand, and pulled out a small case, plastic wrapped and covered in dark blood. _This must be it_ , she thought.

"Congrats, there's our baby. Well, _her_ baby actually," Clover said.

"Funny." Rue said stone-faced.

Nancy removed the bloody plastic wrap, and then found a place for the case inside her coat. "If this is the real package with the virus, then the General will be coming soon." Nancy shined her light down the tunnel again, and started in that direction. "C'mon. We need to keep moving."

As they marched, Nancy felt a change in the ground, and she didn't believe the feeling was just because it was uneven. They were ascending. It was a slight slope but still there.

As they went, Clover kept saying, "I'm fine," every time she began to lag behind. Rue grumbled each time she said it too. The wounded green-gloved social agent was getting weaker. If we don't reach the shoreline soon, Clover might be "just fine" permanently, thought Nancy.

Twenty-two minutes later, or close to it, they arrived at another set of doors. These were of steel, over seven feet tall, and locked, of course, with more chains. Nancy could smell the sea now and also more of that burnt gunpowder smell.

Clover plunked down on her butt while Nancy searched for the right key. The girl's wheezing had become so ragged, she hadn't said anything in the last few minutes, not even an "I'm fine." Rue groaned and put away her light, then heaved Clover up on her back. Clover didn't say anything and let her eyes close, but kept breathing.

The metal doors creaked apart, and the dim blue light of the night sky came in. Outside the doors, was a wooden sign that read "Keep Out, Property of Magnolia Incorporated" facing the tunnel's outlet. Spray painted red over the text was an image of a poorly drawn creature with fanged lips and bat-like wings eating those words. It reminded Nancy of the lobby in the Noir Belle Hotel. The social agents moved on.

The echo of waves crashing through the cave provoked an even older memory in Nancy. _Florida Dreams_. She remembered that day on the beach with her mother, and the rocket fire in her mother's eyes and a smile on her face. One of the few smiles that Nancy could still remember about Mother. Another one was when Nancy won the federal lottery. But those smiles were long lost now, and so was mother.

Clover mustered up a little strength to say, "Yay! We found the beach. But I'll have to borrow a swimsuit, girls."

Seeing the end of the tunnel, Nancy and Rue instinctively picked up their pace and made their way in less than a minute. At the end, when standing in the moonlight and city light, the girls switched off their flashlights.

Clover had closed her eyes again and had stopped moving. Rue put Clover down softly on the sand and checked her pulse. "Well," said Rue, "she's still kicking."

"She needs a sister-doctor." Nancy said.

"Hmph," Rue thought for a second, "we'll have to remove her uniform, and one of ours too to go back into city."

"I'll go. You take the package."

"No, the Sicarii are hunting you. No one cares about me. The diamond queen didn't even ask my name, neither did her sister for what matter."

Nancy didn't want to argue, not with the veteran social agent, at least. "Do you still have your AP magazine Rue?"

Rue nodded, pulled a magazine, and handed it to Nancy.

After undressing Clover and binding her wound tighter, Rue lugged the girl over her shoulders and started walking. Clover had lost a lot of blood, and was fading in and out of consciousness, but she found it in herself to tell Nancy to keep her cap badge safe. "Don't lose it please," said the freckled-face girl, weakly, as she was carried away down the dark shoreline. _Like mine, you mean_ , Nancy thought. She pocketed Clover's badge, and made sure to switch magazines for her handgun.

A moment later on the beach, the wind started to viciously whip the waves against the rocks as if the night, itself, was angry. Nancy quickly re-tightened her cap to keep it from being lost from a strong gust. The noise of the wind was so loud; it almost hid the rising sound of copter blades beating against the air. Looking up she saw a spotlight hovering above the tide's edge, searching the beach, and was closing in on Nancy. The noise became near deafening as the double rotary copter approached. But before the copter got too close, Nancy took cover behind an old wooden table near the beach. She maneuvered behind it, without crawling under it, just in case she needed to run. _Where would I run anyway_? _The tunnel would be a trap for sure._ Eventually, the copter's spot light revealed a small boat rocking and banging against a short dock not far from Nancy. _Maybe there_ , she thought hopefully, _I could take the boat, and if I need to, I can dump the damn package into the water_.

The spotlight soon stopped again when it found Clover's uniform bundled up on the sand near the tunnel. The copter descended, zeroing in on the clothes and blasting sand away, while the spotlight grew wider underneath. Nancy figured she had to make a move before it landed. And this was her best chance while the spotlight was focused on one place. _All I have to do is drop the package in the sea and let it take it away._

But before Nancy moved, a metal figure pounced down on the sand before the copter's landing. The silver and crimson achilles suit beamed under the spotlight. In its armored hands, it carried a heavy machine gun, one exactly like the weapon from the basement. The suit was for a junior grade officer, and was probably for one of Iris's lieutenants. But Debra Flax had been captured earlier, and the other Sicarii had been killed through the visor by Nancy's bullet. This suit's visor looked intact from Nancy's position. _It could be Iris in that suit_ , thought Nancy.

The achilles suit put down it's gun, and lifted Clover's uniform jacket to analyze it. Nancy knew the Sicarii just confirmed social agents were here. Iris would certainly intensify the hunt on the shoreline now. Nancy wasted no more time behind the table and dashed as hard as she could toward the dock.

When she got within a hundred yards, she heard heavy gunfire from behind her. Nancy cringed in anticipation. But the pain of bullets striking her body never came. She turned back to see what was happening. Another achilles suit had appeared from somewhere and was fighting the silver and crimson one. The new suit's colors were clearly gold and purple. The armored figures smashed into each other and wrestled until the machine gun fell to the sand. _God and Holy Mary,_ thought Nancy _, Foxglove must have made it and got the suit in the basemen_ t. But then Nancy remembered the armor in the basement was silver and crimson. _Who could this be then_? She decided the answer didn't matter right now because she still had the package and had to work to do. Getting rid of the virus was the priority no matter what. She turned away as the suits were knocking each other around in a stirring storm of sand under the copter.

Nancy sloshed through the waves taking a direct line to the boat. A dozen steps in, more or less, the waves began smacking up to her chest. _Bad idea_ , she told herself. But she needed to get to the boat and the gate to the dock had looked locked from the beach. When she heard more gunfire, she plunged her head under the water's surface for a second and braced again for bullets. But none came this time either. She poked her head up and looked back. The copter had moved and gunfire was raining down from it to the beach.

Nancy kept pressing on deeper as the tide rocked her. When her feet slipped off the sand, her heart pounded until she found traction again. Above her, the moon moved from behind the clouds, and it was large, full, ugly and bright. It reminded Nancy that she didn't have a mother to save her anymore. She was all alone now.

When a terrible sound of metal breaking and of something massive crashing erupted, Nancy jerked her head around. The helicopter had went down in the sea with its blades striking at the water. Soon the blades stopped moving and the engine sputtered to a stop, while the cockpit sunk down below the waves. A girl in armor climbed out on top of the machine. Nancy could not tell which achilles suit it was in the dark, not that it mattered, she didn't know who was inside either armor. Nancy kept moving, rocking in the water.

By the time she approached where the boat was tethered, her shoulders barely came above the water line. The boat shifted chaotically and thrashed on the water. Nancy's hands kept slipping when she tried to get a grip on the boat. Frustrated, she hugged a pillar of the dock and attempted to pull herself up. But just as she grabbed the dock's floor, the boat smashed against her, causing her head to smack on the pillar. She fell and sank down in the water.

A sudden rush sucked her under the boat and away from the dock. She was dazed, but she could still see the ugly moon staring down, laughing at her through the rippled water. With another strong rush, the sight of the moon was gone and everything was black. Nancy was no longer sure if she was looking up or down or wherever else. She clawed out but hit nothing. The undertow took her more, and it even stole her uniform cap with the duped badge. Her mother had told her not to go past her belly button, but she had disobeyed, once again. But she needed to get to the boat and to make sure the Sicarii never got the package with virus back, and make sure _h_ _e_ was safe, everyone was safe.

As her body floated away into the deep, she worried less and less than she thought she would. Perhaps she just hit her head too hard, or maybe she just didn't care anymore. This could be a dream, she thought, but she remembered she could tell a dream. In her dreams, she wasn't a social agent and she always got saved in the end. Nancy took out the case from under her uniform coat and let it go. She didn't want it to be recovered if her corpse was found floating somewhere. Nancy watched the package disappear into the black. _It's gone,_ she hoped.

Clover's badge was still in her coat pocket, but that would be lost as well, along with her, unless they actually did find her dead body later. She hoped Clover would forgive her, but then again, Clover may never have made it to the hospital. The girl might be as good as dead, too, along with the other social agents that had died tonight. _Stop worrying, you're done now_. Nancy decided to let herself go peacefully and without crying like her mother did, probably, when she was sucked into the black by the moon.

A few seconds passed in the dark, cold water, before a piercing light, tiny at first, but growing larger, came at her. Behind the light was a mask, really a visor, and a silvery hand _. It's her again_ , _but that can't be. This isn't my dream_. Nancy was seized by the achilles suit of purple and gold. She was pulled straight up out of the water by the armored figure, and they both landed in a shallow part near the shore. Nancy spat out the cold, salty sea from her lungs and took a long breath. The girl in the achilles suit held Nancy in her metal arms and marched to the beach. Looking through the visor Nancy saw eyes as blue as the Idaho sky.

"Oh, Alex," Nancy wept, hugging around the suit's neck, "no one is ever going to believe you."

At that moment, there in the night's chill, cradled and wet, she saw that ugly laughing moon again, but she wasn't going to care anymore. She ignored it. The odd scent of fresh cut grass came back now, just as the spent gunpowder smell faded away, right when the moon disappeared behind dark clouds. Her mother had told Nancy once that men used to be all the cops and all the soldiers and even all the astronauts. "Once upon a time," her mother had said. But Nancy had a hard time believing that when she was a little girl. "How could girls keep boys safe if they did those jobs?" She had asked her mother, and her mother answered, "They didn't need to."

Nancy, now calm, let her eyes close. _Today was good. Tomorrow will be better_.

###

Thank you for reading _Safety Maid: Nancy Rose_. If you could, please take a moment to leave a review at your favorite retailer or book review website. I appreciate all reviews, whether they are small or large, negative or positive.

And don't worry, this isn't the end for the safety maids. The next book will pick up after this one, and will feature a different safety maid--as an outlaw. Read the preview chapter at the end of this book to find out who it is. Also, you can go to williamwire.net and check out sample chapters from my upcoming books.

Thanks!

William Wire

Acknowledgments

Rose Lipscomb

Cassandra C. Long

Drew S. Long

Neal S. Long

Nancy M. Storch

Rebecca J. Storch

James R. Vanbremen

Susan A. Vanbremen

About the Author

_Safety Maid: Nancy Rose_ is William Wire's first published novel. If you enjoyed this book, he invites you to join his mailing list at eepurl.com/bEr88z. You'll receive news and exclusive preview chapters for his upcoming books. You can also visit William Wire at williamwire.net, where you can stay up to date or just ask a question.

Please remember to leave a review for this book at your favorite bookseller.

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Preview Chapter

These days, it was hard not to drink.

Jean Paris Foxglove toyed with the shot of whiskey that sat on the bar in front of her. She had certainly drunk before, for sure, when her Aunt Donna had let Paris taste her rose flavored red wine once. And then she drank an entire bottle of that same wine when she had celebrated becoming a Social Agent a long time ago. She had shared that bottle with Linda Dove, who also had just become a Social Agent. She had been Paris's only friend, or close enough to one, at the academy.

Paris pictured Linda, with her plain looking face, her thin nose, and her grey-blue eyes, plus the girl's stringy dirty-blonde hair that never looked right, even when the girl combed well. Not a pretty girl easily, but Linda could be attractive when she laughed, and she liked to laugh, especially when drinking. Paris had trouble remembering the story Linda had told that night; maybe about a dog or Linda's little sister. Paris wasn't sure. Linda had snorted out some wine laughing, as she always did whenever the girl had tried to tell a joke or a funny story while drinking. Linda was terrible at keeping a straight face.

Paris couldn't think of what was so funny now, so many years later. All that was left of that old memory was Linda's snorty giggle. Now, Linda Dove was dead, just like most of the Social Agents who had refused to hand in their gun and badge. Linda got nailed in north Virginia, hiding out in a cabin. Three bounty hunters had moved in at night and shot her full of holes. The poor girl had no chance, her advantage levels had collapsed, and she was already suffering the effects of post-advantage atrophy by then. The news showed her dead face on TV; it was thin, pale, and her eyes had darkened from what looked like crying. Bounty hunters after former-social agents don't take chances, so they don't take prisoners often. The reward was the same either way, dead or alive.

Paris picked up her shot, and whispered, "Here's to Linda, and her dumb laugh," then downed it. The whiskey burned its way down Paris's throat, causing her to cringe and fidget on the barstool. _Awful_ , thought Paris. She nearly coughed it up.

"Mm, hmm, good stuff ain't it?" The dark-skinned bartender said from behind the bar. "Ready to go again, Snow White?" The bartender's name was Dorothy, and she was as big and as wide as girls could be, before getting up off their ass became too much of a problem. Her arm fat sagged down and touched the bar top as she wiped it. Dorothy's grin at Paris was unapologetic. Dorothy had been teetering the whole time, waiting and watching for Paris to finally take that shot. The big girl had insisted, after Paris mentioned she'd never drunk whiskey before, or any hard liqueur for that matter ever. Paris was the only customer sitting at the bar at noon on a Tuesday, and Dorothy was giving her complete attention to Paris. The only other customer was an older girl with glasses, sitting in a booth reading a paper and sipping on coffee.

"Snow White?" Paris questioned the bartender after exhaling. "Why'd you call me that?"

"You look like ol' Snow White. She had skin as light as yours, and hair just as black. You ain't never seen that ol' cartoon before?"

"No. I never watch cartoons."

"It's about a princess gett'n chased by an ol' nasty witch, who wanted poor ol' Snow White dead."

"Why?"

"The ol' witch was jealous."

"Let me guess, the princess won, and put her sword through the witch, and it was a happy time for everyone. The end."

"Nah, Snow White got saved by the handsome prince."

"Hmmm, that seems dumb. Who would like a story like that?"

"Hey, it's the way they made those cartoons back then, before the great calamity."

"Oh. I see. It's ancient nonsense."

"So, how 'bout another one, Snow White?"

"I don't see how girls could drink this stuff."

"It ain't 'bout the taste, honey."

Dorothy had a brown bottle already in hand before Paris even agreed. The bartender hummed while she poured, then capped the bottle and put it to the side. "This one's smoother," Dorothy commented, "I promise." The bartender then left Paris alone with the whiskey shot this time, going into the back kitchen. Her heavy body rocked left to right as she passed through the service door. "Just holler, if ya need more, Snow White. I'll be in the back for a second."

Paris stared her whiskey down, once again. She reminded herself that she shouldn't get too intoxicated, she needed to stay sharp, and for sure, she really couldn't know how the whiskey would affect her. She was still on advantage formula. But, the former-social agent wondered to herself if that mattered anymore. Normally, it would be foolish for her to be out at a public place, especially at a bar, and especially in the middle of the day. But she had to. She needed to keep her advantage levels up somehow.

Paris predicted that sometime around noon, a girl would wander in with a bundle of flowers, claiming to want to sell them. The girl would do that all through the French Quarter, dropping in on every business that would let her in. She'd sell someone a flower for a couple of bucks, if asked to, but that was not what the girl was really selling. When someone asked for a white flower for example, and handed the girl a twenty instead of two dollars, the girl would hand over the flower like normal, but with an extra note rolled around the stem. The note was a receipt, and also instructions for the buyer to know where to go and pick up their coke. Other colors represented other drugs, and if the seller didn't have that kind today, then the flower girl didn't bring that color with her.

Paris wasn't after poison garbage though; she was interested in something else. Something that would help keep her alive. Two weeks ago, her supply of advantage formula, that she had nabbed from an Alabama hospital had run out, and her levels had been dropping dangerously low, getting close to zero. Once atrophy started, a girl was pretty much dead without medical assistance. Paris hoped that the local dealer would have a black market version of advantage formula. Those were unsafe to use but Paris had little choice.

Betty Breeze ran the flower girl operation here in the French Quarter. Betty started out as a flower girl herself many years ago. Paris had known the girl from church school and they had grown up together in New Orleans. Paris even thought of her as a friend, once. When a Social Agent finally arrested Betty, years after Paris had left New Orleans behind, Betty asked for Paris to come and testify on her behalf at the trial. Paris refused to go, but did send a video-message to the court that said only, "Miss Breeze needs to be in prison for her crimes." No exceptions, Paris believed, the girl was a poison dealer.

Yet truthfully, if Paris had actually gone to trial and had seen Betty's desperate face, a face pleading with the judge and with the arresting social agent for leniency, Paris couldn't be sure what she would have said. She remembered riding bicycles with Betty on the streets of New Orleans, and her being fun, and also very poor. Selling flowers was her family's only income at the time, and that was how Betty paid for her own bicycle. But lots of girls were poor, Paris reminded herself, and they didn't have to sell poison.

After the purge of the US Social Agents, prisons had been opened up, and the low-level criminals had been released early. Some were even given official apologies from the government, as if the Social Agents had arrested them wrongfully. The government did that on purpose; they wanted the public to see the apologies and teary-eyed girls being freed, so that public got the idea that the Social Agents had been putting innocent girls in prison, and therefore America was better off without the Social Agents and the purge had been somehow justified. Betty Breeze was one of the girls released, and she got an apology too, then she went right back to work selling her flowers.

"Here's to the god damn government," Paris said to herself, and then downed her whiskey shot.

Paris was wearing civilian clothes now. On her head was a black hood from a hoodie she wore when outside, underneath was a plain white t-shirt, and for pants she wore a pair of stained navy blue slacks she had found in a lost and found. She also wore a pair of cheap sunglasses continuously. No more black synthetic-leather gloves and boots, like when she was in uniform. She wore dark gloves she bought at a gas station for two dollars and eighty-nine cents and had a pair of worn hiking boots she found in a garbage bin on her feet. Hidden and slid tightly into her left boot was a military knife. The only part of her old uniform she kept was her cap badge, which was in the inside pocket of the jacket. And of course she kept her nine-point-nine handgun that was tucked into her pants in the front. She only had one magazine with seven bullets left, but it could, if necessary, keep her alive a little bit longer. A few days ago, she had to fire her gun once as a warning shot, when Paris thought a girl had recognized her. The girl ran away with no further incident afterward. That was the only time she had used her gun since Magnolia Tower.

The tele-screen hanging above the bar started its regular report on bounties. The standard rate was still twenty thousand for an outlaw former-social agent, of no real distinction, which was the majority of outlaws left. But for the stars like Paris, and Nancy Rose, the bounty price was approaching four hundred thousand. When Paris's picture popped on the screen, Paris lowered her sunglasses to see better. She had let her hair grow well past her shoulders, which helped her look different from the picture they kept using, the one from back in her academy days, when she had tighter shorter hair.

The current numbers for Paris were three hundred thousand. _Not too bad_. Rose's face popped up next, with three hundred and fifty thousand for her. Paris grinded her teeth. Rose still had the higher price, and she was still alive somehow. Rose fighting on did not bother Paris, really, she admired Rose for that actually, but Paris couldn't understand how Rose always had the higher bounty. Paris wondered what Nancy had been doing to earn it.

Originally, there were over eighty social agents that refused to turn their badge and gun in. But within a month, only half or so was left, most had just given up peacefully. The government immediately took them off advantage formula and put them into medical care for a proper de-escalation, which was needed to prevent atrophy during the post advantage formula stage in a user's life. The rest of the outlaws, being stubborn or dumb, kept going and went into hiding. The government responded by offering bounties for their heads. The current bounty report said there were only eleven former-social agents left now. From this point, there was no turning yourself in anymore, not for most of the outlaws. The unlucky ones would have had to kill other girls to stay alive, which meant prison time or possible execution if they happened to be taken alive.

For Paris, she could have never turned herself in, not from the start. She had sealed her deal forever when she snuck up on stage that night at the Magnolia Tower, with her handgun out and aimed right at the Queen of Hearts, Mother Most Superior herself, and fired twice, hitting the old girl in the chest and dropping her. The crowd screamed and went into a fury seeing the old sister fall. During the following chaos, Paris made her escape through the subways.

With Lilac dead in the basement, and everyone else dead, or would be soon, Paris had left in a rage to kill a queen. Paris just couldn't let the sicarii win without making them pay for it. It was sloppy thinking, she admitted now, the purge may not have happened, if not for her. But when America saw the Mother Most Superior shot down by a social agent on live tele-screen, that was the final nail. And it wasn't even worth it, Paris lamented, Mother Most Superior got rushed to a hospital, where she was revived. Paris had hit her in the heart, a good clean shot from thirty yards, and that's fatal for most girls, but somehow they brought her back after twenty-two minutes dead, with a new machine heart in her chest. Mother Most Superior had told the faithful that it was God's Will that she had lived, it had been a miracle. _Yeah sure,_ thought Paris _, and maybe next time I'll make sure to aim for the head._

Dorothy was still busy in the kitchen. Paris could hear the sound of the big girl's faint chuckles coming from back there. Not wanting to wait, Paris snatched the whiskey bottle sitting just within arm's reach, and refilled her shot glass. _Why not?_ With each day, and every thought after the next, even more depressing than the last, she had a hard time arguing against the _why not_? After all, her sisters were either forced into retirement, making them semi-dead, or had been hunted down, making them actually dead, by now. Well, most of her sisters anyway, some were still out there fighting. _Maybe_ , thought Paris, _I'll be the last one, the last social agent on the run._ She tossed back her filled glass, and let the hard liquor go down. She shivered a bit in reaction. _Oh that's_ _horrible too_ _._ But that must be why people drink it, she realized, because they felt horrible already.

As Paris wiped her sunglasses with her sleeve, the old girl from the booth walked up to the bar near Paris with payment ready in hand. When the old girl glanced towards Paris, she froze, staring right at her. "You're her," the girl blurted out. Paris hated hearing that. Her sunglasses were off only for a second. _Damn it_. But it must have been enough time to catch a glimpse.

"I'm _not_ her," Paris answered, sliding her sunglasses back on.

"You look like her. The Foxglove girl. The safety maid."

Paris stood up suddenly, causing the old girl to shiver.

"Are you sure?" Paris asked, "Because if I saw her, I'd be real worried. She's a maniac, I've heard. A killer."

Paris wanted to shoot the old girl, right then and there. A smart move, really, since there was no turning Jean Paris Foxglove in, so adding one more body under her name wouldn't make it worse. Paris knew she'd be brought in, at the very end, in a body bag. No bounty hunter was going to risk themselves to bring her in alive. But the old girl wasn't a criminal; she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. _I'm still a Social Agent, aren't I?_ _I'm not just telling myself that to keep going. I can't just kill her. But if she tells anyone..._

Paris moved a fold of her jacket back, deliberately revealing the handgun resting in her waistline to the old girl. Paris needed to handle this situation bluntly and quickly, if she didn't want to be on the headline news tonight. _Just shoot her_ , Paris told herself, _t_ _hen shoot everyone else in the bar too, even fat Dorothy._

"I bet," said Paris, tapping her finger on the gun's grip, "you didn't see her."

The old girl shuddered and stepped back. The look of fear on the old girl's face amused Paris some. The media had made Paris into a monster. And yes, there was a part of Paris that enjoyed that, she liked being the bad girl and being feared by the public. She had to admit some of the accusations against her had been true too, like how she had treated certain criminals. But those girls had all deserved it, they needed a hard correction, but right now, Paris was just terrifying an unlucky old girl, someone she would have been helping normally. _Was this right?_ _I'm a social agent._ _No,_ she re-thought _, I_ _was one._

Paris moved suddenly, taking an abrupt step towards the girl. That bad reputation was what she had, and, she was going to use it. The old girl fell backward, knocking over a bar stool with her legs. The girl's eyes widened, her hands shook, as she began picking herself off the floor.

"Please, miss," begged the old girl, "I didn't see her. I didn't anything. I swear. Sorry. Sorry."

Paris stood silent and continued to tap on her handgun.

The old girl said one last soft, "sorry," as she got to her feet, and then went running for the front door. The girl looked back once over her shoulder before hustling outside, letting the door close.

The smart voice in Paris's head said, _you should've shot her_. If the old girl tells the police, more might die. _I'll be dead too._

On the bar, the old girl had left her coffee check unpaid. Paris tossed a hundred dollar bill down beside it. At least, she'd pay for the coffee. Paris also swiped the last bottle of whiskey off the bar she had been drinking. _Might as well_ , she told herself. The whiskey might dull the pain from bullet wounds. And if she was lucky enough, she'd get so drunk she wouldn't feel a thing when she died.

Paris exited out the back emergency door with a bottle in hand. She moved through the clustered alleyways in the French Quarter until she picked up the dank musky scent of the bayou again. The smell was much weaker than this morning. Paris realized that was a sign that her advantage levels were burning out. There wouldn't be much time left now.

She could leave the city immediately, but she couldn't know where'd she find another possible hook up for advantage formula again. And she couldn't continue to rob hospitals either. She'd be putting all those sisters at risk. The idea of the news reporting Jean Paris Foxglove was killing sisters at hospitals would be too much, even for Paris. There wasn't enough time anyway. Betty Breeze was her only hope now. _I need to find a flower girl_.

Paris settled on a shadowed corner in the French Quarter to sit and watch the streets. During the day, the streets were busy but much quieter than the nights. When she had lived in New Orleans, she used to ride her bicycle up and down the streets during the day. She and Betty would dodge and weave around tourists and the daytime drunks. Betty had been born there. The girl knew the place much better than Paris ever had. Betty would probably die there too. _So could I._ She almost laughed. Paris uncapped her bottle of whiskey and took a swig. _Awful stuff._ Her throat convulsed from the burning taste. Then she took another drink, and another.

Today felt like a last day to Paris. She was America's most wanted, well, second most wanted, having a famous mom seemed to help a girl even when she was an outlaw too. Paris never knew her own mother. For Paris, her mother was just a ghost story; a story that was mostly fictional; hopefully fictional, as far as Paris was concerned. All there was left of her mother, were a few random pictures from before Paris was born. Paris was the same age now as when her mother had died--when she was murdered--and much worse than murdered, as her Aunt Donna had told Paris. Paris had never found the girls that killed her mother, and she had tried. That was the reason, why she'd joined the Social Agents. _The Social Agents helped girls._ _They got the criminals._ _They got the murderers._ That's what Paris was before, with her sisters; social agents that got the criminals, and got the murderers. She drank down another gulp from the bottle. _This shit gets no better_.

Twenty minutes had passed, as her tech-watch showed, and the bottle in her left hand was halfway gone, when she heard police sirens. _Had the old girl_ talked _?_ Thinking again, she knew it was normal for the sound of sirens to be off in the distance in New Orleans. It never was a clean city. But she couldn't shake the feeling that it could be about her. They'd send everyone, the armed best they could muster, for Paris. Some bounty hunters would be here too, she was sure, they would have been listening in on police chatter.

Paris fantasized about the possibility of killing them all with what was left in her handgun. Doubtful, but at least she could take some with her, and maybe, just maybe, her last stand would be a truly famous one. The siren faded away though, and the streets of the French Quarter remained seemingly normal. _Maybe_ , she thought, _that old girl had been scared bad enough to shut up._ Paris could hope.

She finally felt a strong head rush, when the whiskey buzz finally hit her. She set the bottle down near her feet. There was close to a quarter left still, of whatever shit was in the bottle. Her heart now stung. _Was it anxiety? Stress? Or was it the advantage levels dropping?_ She hadn't drunk this much in a long time, so she couldn't be sure. But as her heart cooled off, she began to slow down. Even her thoughts were getting slow. Paris thought, _I'm not really dying_ , _not really_. But as a Social Agent, as she knew, when advantage levels went down low enough, it felt like dying. She wanted to just lie down, sleep, and then wake up fresh. _Please wake up_.

She sank down low to the concrete. Positioning herself so she saw clearly down the alleyway towards a good section of the street. None of the passers noticed her, or they pretended they hadn't noticed. Girls liked to dart their eyes away from the homeless in New Orleans, like avoiding staring at a scar on someone's face. Paris in her ragged hooded jacket and lost and found boots, cheap sunglasses, with a whiskey bottle in arm's reach, must look homeless and worthless. She would think that too of herself. In a sense, she thought, that was what she had actually become. She was a drifter, stealing and doing whatever to survive another day. _I'm a scar_. But when you don't want to be noticed, being a scar was an advantage, she supposed.

Nearly an hour had passed, before there was only a swish of whiskey left in her bottle, and Paris saw what she was hoping for. A girl, just over four feet tall with cropped short hair, and wearing jeans and an awful patterned Hawaiian style shirt, was carrying a bundle of multi-colored flowers. The flower girl was no older than ten, she guessed. Paris pulled herself up, a lot more tipsy than she'd expected to be, (then what did she expect?) and edged closer to the street.

"Sure, I'll buy a flower," a tall slinky teen with blonde hair said, "but I want to pay with a kiss." The flower girl had been sidelined by a pair of teenagers on the sidewalk. The blonde sniggered, and the flower girl's face turned stiff and red. The other one, shorter and much heavier, seized the flower bundle.

"No," yelled the flower girl, grasping away at the flowers that were held out of reach.

"Oh no," the shorter girl said back, "how will you get your flowers back?"

"Cutie here, is going to have to give out two kisses." The blonde leaned down and puckered her lips. The flower girl froze up.

"Fun time's done." Paris marched across the street, her voice harsh and loud. "Give back the flowers, now."

The heavier one answered, "Lady, do you think you're a fucking cop or something?"

Paris took a second to think, as she reached the sidewalk, before responding, "I'm worse than a cop. Give her the flowers, fatty. Right now." For a second, Paris considered slinging back her jacket to reveal her gun, but that wasn't a good idea out in public on the streets. A hard attitude should work with these teens, well good enough, she believed. When Paris used to wear her social agent uniform, the teens rarely talked back to her after an order. They knew better.

The heavy girl paused, as she thought about making another comment, but instead the girl tossed back the flower bundle, causing the flowers to fall to the concrete. The flower girl scooped them up, anxiously. The teenagers turned and walked away, and didn't bother to say another word. Maybe the teens knew somehow, what _the scar_ really was, but probably they just didn't want any trouble. _I looked like a scar to them, but I could be a dangerous one too_.

Fixing her flowers, the flower girl mumbled, "I hate girls."

"Me too sometimes," said Paris, as she helped pick up flowers.

As the flower girl placed the last flower back in the bundle, Paris asked, "Can I buy a flower, sweetheart?"

The girl, a little flustered still, lifted her head toward Paris, and answered back, "Yes miss, which color please?"

Now face to face, Paris saw that the flower girl wasn't a girl. _A boy_. _Huh_. "All of them," Paris told the boy, "but you're gonna take me to your boss."

"Ummm...but..."

"It's okay. I'm good friends with Betty Breeze."
