Null

Evelyn's mind screamed. Hundreds of thoughts pelted her skull, threatening to break free of the bone and explode onto the floor. She rushed through the front door, the hissing of the automatic door opening and closing as people came and went, all murmuring about the recent meeting. The cold air greeted her as she burst onto the long tarmac filled with hovercarriers and the occasional EVAC pod landing.

“Why, Horace, why on Earth did you recommend me for neophyte candidacy?” she said as the lights of the building began to fade and the only ambient light came from hover carriers leaving and landing.

“To keep this city as safe as possible, of course.”

His response was coy, as though he knew she saw through his facade but felt proud of it anyway. The two walked in stride, Evelyn continuing her speed while Horace did his best to match her. The tapping of their feet on the hard tarmac dug into her ears, mixing with the swirling thoughts. With a sudden stop she whirled around, pinning Horace to a nearby pillar by the neck.

“Why?” she hissed.

“I think you’d make a great agent.”

Evelyn pressed more firmly into his neck.

“Ok- okay- if I got you that job y- you’d owe me-”

He sputtered the words out, clawing at her arm to free his windpipe.

Evelyn dropped her arm, releasing Horace into a gasping ball on the floor.

“Leave me alone and stay out of my life.”

She turned away in disgust.

“I wish you could see how perfect we would be.” Horace said.

“Wish for something else.” Evelyn said, beginning to walk away.

Horace stared daggers at her but remained on the floor, massaging his bruised throat. “What a creep.” she muttered.

Evelyn disappeared into a hover carrier emblazoned with the defense task force’s insignia, the near silent engine trailing off into the distant commercial hub of Neos London. Horace's anger flashed, and he slammed a fist at a nearby divider. He stifled a scream, cradling his broken fingers. With a wince and great effort, he wrapped a biotic pad around the mangled and bruised phalanges. His eyes faced the sky with pure vehemence.

“One day she’ll see,” he vowed.

“You seem upset,” a voice said from the shadows.

“Who’s there?” Horace asked, his tone implying a great deal of distaste for whomever had interrupted him.

A tall man stepped into view, choppy orange hair swaying slightly in the night breeze. His clothing was dark, matching the backdrop of the unlit runway.

“I won’t ask again.” Horace said flatly.

His omni bracer slid gracefully into his hand, morphing into a long blade about the length of his forearm.

“I assure you, that weapon won’t be necessary,” the man said, his hands up in mock surrender.

He stepped forward, a placating smile still drawn wide across his face, “I just want to ask you a few things.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Quite the contrary. Who was that girl that shut you down just now?” The question was innocent but loaded. The man's shoulders were tense, and his eyes deeply focused on something far off from the two.

“She’s had a long day. She was overwhelmed. That's all. Now, tell me, who are you?”

“I am Null.”

“I’m not in the mood for games, let’s see your ID.”

“Very sorry but I do not have any on me, not that you would particularly like where I’m from.”

“You’re another undercity savage, aren’t you? Crawl back down into your filth before I put you in a ditch somewhere.”

Null moved with lightning speed, snapping his wrist and connecting a vicious blow into Horace’s nose. With a swift and practiced movement he wrenched the blade from Horace’s hands. The blow made a sickening crunch, and the wrist of Horace's already injured hand popped. Horace gurgled on his blood, now flat on his back, staring into the hazy sky.

“Now that your intolerable voice can’t bother me, let me ask you something.” Null said, wiping his hand on a stark white rag, staining it crimson.

Horace gurgled on his blood in response.

“Where does she live? In all your obsession I'm certain you’ve stalked that much.” Null asked, turning Horace onto his side so that the blood could drain from his nose.

“I don’t kn-” Horace began before Null’s boot planted onto his side, causing him to choke and gasp on his blood.

“Try again.”

“Spire four, room three seven three.” Horace said, coughing out enough blood to talk.

“Was that so hard?” Null asked, walking back off into the shadows.

Horace shakily opened his wrist-pad. “E-EVAC.” he said weakly before he slipped into unconsciousness.

***

“Welcome home, Officer Mays,” a man dressed in a security guard's uniform said, standing at the Spire four’s main entrance, plasma lancer in hand.

“Edmund,” Evelyn said, greeting the chief of security warmly, “What are you doing out and about?”

“Eventful night I’m afraid, never a dull for us.”

“Eventful? Here? What's happened?” Evelyn asked, dread beginning to creep in.

“You haven’t heard what happened to Officer Brant? It’s had all of the defense force in a fervor.”

“No? What happened? I was just with him not thirty minutes ago.”

“Well then, apparently after you left, he was attacked. Right there on defense force property. No assailant in sight. Seems like he was able to call an EVAC before he passed out. He arrived in the critical care facility unconscious five minutes ago.”

“We were right outside HQ, who on Earth would’ve been that bold, or that stupid?”

“They got him talking, he had a bit more intel. Attacker was male, bright orange hair, dark clothing. Apparently came from the undercity. Probably one of the viceroy’s cronies up here to scare us into agreeing with demands.”

The world went cold around Evelyn, her heart plummeting.

“You okay, Ms. Mays?” Edmund asked, eyes shifting around.

“Was there a name, the attacker, did he give a name?”

The bright lights of the city blinded Evelyn, hover carriers around her seemingly moving as fast as the light rails.

“Yes, a codename the investigative team assumed. Officer Brant said he went by ‘Null’.”

“Zero zero zero,” Evelyn whispered, the words barely exiting her lips before being taken by the light breeze.

“Pardon?” Edmund asked, leaning in.

“Nothing Edmund, I’ll be back soon, please stay safe.”

She turned and began running back towards the landing zone she had entered from, a rough twenty meters away.

“I need an EVAC pod now.” she said into her wrist pad.

The pod's rotors buzzed through the air, arriving at the landing zone shortly after she had. She jumped inside, not waiting for the door to fully open.

“Critical care center, fast,” she said, barking orders to the navigation AI.

“Yes, Officer Mays!” Nav replied, chipper as ever.

“Surely Horace messed up some detail,” she said to herself, attempting to believe it into existence.

Evelyn gazed through the plate glass that separated her from the smoggy air the pod careened through. Dozens, hundreds of traveling luxury hover-yachts and plethora of pleasure barges flew past the window, each moving slowly and lazily through the lustrous air. Every so often another pod would match her speed and then cut into a new direction. Her pod jolted and began to descend slowly, and she pulled the emergency door release.

“Thank you Nav,” she said, looking down at the seven-meter drop. She breathed deeply and leapt from the pod.

She landed and rolled, dispersing the force throughout her entire body, only slightly injuring her foot. Then, she bolted for the care facility door as the pod touched down behind her. She burst through the doors, pushing other officers, reporters, and interviewers alike out of the way, until she found him.

“Horace!” she shouted, out of breath.

“Evelyn.” he said, smiling through a wince.

“Horace. Who attacked you?”

“You do care!” he said with a wide grin.

“Damn it Horace, who was it!”

“I already told everyone; he said his name was Null.”

“And you’re certain.”

“That’s what he told me. He was looking for you though and wanted to know where you lived.”

“Horace, you didn’t tell him, did you?”

Horace looked down in guilt.

“Edmund-” Evelyn said, her heart sinking.

“Who is Edmund?”

Evelyn ignored the question, “I need a medical squad with me. Now!”

She flashed her defense force ID from her wrist pad, a group of medics joining her at the door. With another flurry of presses she called in her division, setting the rendezvous point at Spire four.