Sanity

Chapter Four

   I was running out of options. Medical centers were out of question: I would have not been the last sad bloke finished off by the Clan at a clinic. Back to the Spider was also not great because he would either let me die there and harvest my organs or I would be in debt to him. I was trying to lead a life where I was not owing anyone anything anymore. Which brings us to where I actually got off the train.

   Rascon Avenue is in the middle of the Tall Grays right under the Second Platform which holds the gateway to Glass Garden. It was an intersection of trains, roads and even sky traffic which looked at least half decent compared to the other parts. These were the parts they put in magazines to advertise this poor excuse of a city. You got balconies and lookout to the skyscrapers, glass elevators and of course some stainless steel dragon statues to complete the brochure. Most of the lights were intact and you didn't see all the trash lying around like down. Most of Yilbegän's middle class population was living in the Tall Grays so your well being was advertised both by the Proximity of the Glass Garden and vertically, as in how high up you were above the scum. It was a pathetic struggle to bask about your presumed wealth in Rascon Avenue which was close enough for you to believe that you belong to the elite but far enough for the actual elite not to consider you as anything. But actually it is also a delusion, since Glass Garden is also full of low lives. The only difference is, that on an average their cars are five years younger, their paycheck is twenty percent thicker and the wardens actually show up at crime scenes. On the other hand Rascon Avenue on an average the girlfriends are five years younger, they lie about their paycheck and there are enough hired guns to keep the crime at bay.

   I climbed the stairs and enjoyed the view for a bit from the bridge between the Plaza and the skyport. A graffiti on the wall said "we need no heroes" and I wondered if that was from a song. I went over to the next intersection as part of the traffic was silently slowing beneath me and occasionally striders flew above my head. The lights and the distorted noise of the city slowly fused into a blurred memory of my slipped life. Had I known earlier that blood loss can induce a state of weak, confused and light-headed trip, I could have just traded the drinking to this. Here at one of the largest apartment complexes my desperation manifested itself in this soaked, bleeding and half-dead creature that leaned against the wall and pushed the doorbell like a moron.
She opened the door until the chain let it and looked out into the rain.
   "Why does this keep happening?" she asked with ice cold eyes and emotions which I took for hatred. "You standing in my door, beaten or drunk or both? Always at the time of monsoon."
   "I didn't know where else to go." I said as charming as I could on the verge of collapsing.
She closed the door to unlock it and opened it again. I knew she had a pistol hidden there behind the door. She politely got rid of it before letting me in.
   "I guess I have no choice, do I?" asked Davkina.

   She had a taste for interior design. The expensive furniture, the perfectly arranged pictures and plants starred envility at the black leather sofa which welcomed my blood and dirt as I laid down on it. Davkina hurried to the bathroom and got me a first aid kit. She sat down and helped undress my upper body.
   "Watch out with the coat, it's expensive." I said and she did not get the joke as she peeled it off of me. My shirt was simply opened and then cut off before she started the treatment like an expert.
   "This went through" she cleaned the holes on my arm. Both sides disinfected and then filled with medical gel. It was cold as fuck, but felt better than before. The chest wounds were harder. She picked one bullet from my chest with a pincer and another one with bare hands. She held the bloody little metal piece between her black nails and examined it. After that it was a similar process and it was finally time for the awkward conversation we never finished ten years ago. It's funny how you meet someone from your past and you both are instantly the same two people from back then.
   "I guess this was necessary. Getting yourself almost killed" Her smug voice just made me angry.
   "You sent me on this job." I started just to set the mood while she washed her hands, gave me painkillers and fixed herself a drink. She changed nothing, her movement, her curves, the good taste for even casual clothes. There are women who act like queens and there are those who are taken for one by everyone around them. She was the later one. Combined with her intelligence it was unbearable for anyone not to love, hate or leave her. Or in my case, all of those at the same time.
   "You look way better than what you deserve." She stated.
   "You really know how to treat a wounded man." I said and she handed me a glass of whatever she was having.
   "I didn't send you on anything."
   "You did let your intern look me up for a friendly conversation about the Clan." I tasted the drink and it was something strong, not the fancy girl's cocktail she used to like. People do change.
   "He started to get obsessed with them, so I turned him towards someone similar."
I couldn't argue with that. We both took a few sips in silence. She sat across the little glass table in an armchair. At first I thought she was thinking about the same things I was.
   "You even gave him hints, like buying me a drink to get my attention."
   "I did tell him that you are an unapproachable alcoholic."
She had her way of dealing with people. Or maybe everyone was just quickly disarmed by her spicy comments and those iceberg eyes, the fair skin and freckles. You should know that she has always been an assassin: jet black hair, perfect makeup, dark tattoos. The kind of girl who you would fight, betray and kill for. She looked me in the eye and the memories from the past of heated quarrels and aggressive sex rushed to my mind.
I kicked off my boot and laid back.
   "Don't get comfortable. You are not staying." Came the answer like clockwork.
   "Can I just have a moment of not bleeding out?"
   "Not if I can help it." She said, but she didn't mean it. She stood up and left her drink behind to walk to the kitchen.
   "Did you even look into the files of this missing girl?" I asked and she started to prepare ingredients for the cafe machine.
   "I can't track every conspiracy in this city, Sul. Every day someone comes up with something new: it's the corporations poisoning us, the ionsails cause cancer, the Bazakas this the Clan that. I am tired of this shit."
   "It's not like the Bazaka themselves didn't spread lies all the time. They use all possible media and billboards to plant hatred and confusion." I had so many examples, but I didn't want to go this direction. Every day you see some big ass signs, how Chaldea or the Alliance is threatening to take away our jobs, our homes, our kids. You see ads on every channel about the trafficking of outlanders, as if anyone wanted to settle in this broken city. A city that spreads all over the islands which once supported it. There is no agriculture here, there is zero mining. All you have in Yilbegän are factories, fishing and trading hubs and I have no idea how this place is still in one piece. Everything is imported, stolen or illegal and the Bazaka play themselves as heroes who show us the way out of poverty.
   "Well, fight fire with fire." She shrugged and the coffee started brewing behind her.
   "Wait a moment." I sat up and looked at her. I didn't realize this before. "You're on their side now?"
   "I am on my own side, asshole."
   "The nice furniture, the fat paycheck and a life in this part of the town..." You could say I am a bit slow to be a detective, but eventually it all clicks together.
   "Time has passed, Sul. The Wardens get paid better, we are treated better. Yes, I am making a career here, stone me to death."
   "I see. With blood money, drug trades and turning your heads from real victims."
   "Fuck you." She pointed at me. "I am not going to feel bad if I do my job. Especially because of a washed-up nobody who has to project his self-hatred onto others."
   "Wo-wow, slow down doc. I don't offend you for doing your job, sweety. No, I'm calling you out for not doing it. You are paid for doing the dirty work for the clan, to turn the other way." I talked in a more cynical way than normally, that's true. "Thank you for letting people die and deepen the shit of this country."
   "You've been saying this for so long, you don't even know what's going on anymore. You lost track because you are has-been and you live in the past, with the past politics and past wounds." She paused because the coffee was ready. She was annoyed but not angry. I was on the other hand quite furious that I lost her. The clan claimed yet another asset to themselves.
   "I can't just walk away from the past."
   "Oh you can damn well walk away from anything. It's all just mouth, Sul. You stuffed your head full with half baked conspiracies and you think everything is connected. But you don't do shit. You just drink and talk and, my fucking god, how much you can talk." Davkina was massaging her forehead with her palm. Then she turned back to the machine and filled a cup.
   "Your sister would spit in your face if she was here."
I know, it was a disgusting move. But it was true. And it hurt me the same way it hurt her. She stopped whatever she was doing and did not face me when she talked.
   "I'm going to work now." She said in a seemingly calm voice but I knew what was going on. "When I'm back, you will be gone. If you are still here, the patrol will take you down to the hall for trespassing. No, for breaking and entering." I opened my mouth to fight back, but then she added. "I don't care where you bleed out. Forget about me. Delete my number. The next time you need help and your life depends on it, do not come to me or I'll make sure you won't make it."
I sighed and she just stood there, quite tense. It took a good half minute before she walked away.
   "Dav..." I said, alas I knew it was in vain.
   "Just go."
She got her coat and bag and shut the door hard. I heard her footsteps echoing outside. I leaned back and smelled the fresh coffee she just made. I wouldn't want that to go to waste, right?