Opus Veda

Canary Wharf had become ordinary to Kasia. Her climb up the skyscraper was boring; Thorstein's floor was dull as ever. The twisting marble lovers in his office ceased to provoke envy.

But this time Thorstein was high. Kasia caught his bulging eyes, his violent sniff. He rubbed his neck and motioned to the line on the desk, racked with the bank card Kasia had to take.

A tip. She glared and handed the delivery over. Before she could take the card, Thorstein snatched it away.

"This is the part where you turn down my affections isn't it?"

"It's the part where I wonder how you got so high in life."

"Aw come ooon! You aren't swayed by money, or job offers, or gear. What can I tempt you with?"

He closed in, smelling of strange cologne. Kasia shrugged.

"I still don't see why you're interested? The clubs here must have the best sex in the country."

He punched the desk excitedly and paced around Kasia with an accusing finger.

"And that is how I know you're lower class than you let on. Otherwise you'd know clubs get rarer up the food chain. I'm going to explain why."

"If you must..."

"Sex in a club is sex without context, and it's context that makes sex good. Sitting in a venue, waiting for an efficient match... there isn't enough validation, enough push and pull, enough tension and release," he snorted the last line through a gold tube, "what validation a revolutionary could give! All business, hard to get, but one day giving in to lust. What venue offers that!?"

"There actually are clubs that-"

"And if you came in uniform?" Thorstein leered at her body, "a single night would make your year much easier."

Kasia imagined how much he meant. He probably had enough in his pocket to pay her bills for a decade.

If he stuck to his word. And she'd need to ask.

She waved him off.

"If you paid me for it you'd throw the context away, wouldn't you?"

He handed the card over - giving her all she needed to leave - with a smug grin.

"Only in the short-term. I'd be investing in you."

"Alright then," Kasia rubbed crumbling powder off the card and raised an eyebrow, "name the price."

He raised his arm to the window.

"Come look at the view with me."

"Won't it remind you you're the shortest tower in the borough?"

"Find out."

An astonishing panorama greeted her, skyscrapers all around, drones criss-crossing through them. Streetlights defined each borough, one a soft orange, a second shifting cyan and magenta, another a battleground of vibrant ads. A fourth flickered into a power cut.

Kasia's heart swayed with vertigo.

She smelt cologne. His hand pressed hers against the window. She noticed her fingers wrap between his.

"I did a background check on you, 'Agent' Szymanska. Nothing perverted; had to make sure you were trustworthy."

"You don't have my assignment history, or you wouldn't be trying this."

"You're right. I don't. You're more attractive for it," Thorstein leant into her, "you're a strong woman, aren't you Kasia? You can handle a serious offer without losing your cool? Remember: with me you've only ever had to say no once."

"I'll listen, as long as you stop stalling..." Kasia threatened to pull away.

"I'll trust you to stay professional then. There are two offers. Stay here with me now, I'll give you a year's salary. Only the first time. You are going to want it again - for free - and I will enjoy watching you learn it. There's the context. How does that sound?"

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"Depends on your other offer."

"The second offer is you become a millionaire, and continue to get paid for as long as you like."

He felt Kasia's chest rise.

"I don't believe you-"

"Why should you at this point?" he tutted, "obviously I thought about that. We'll work together and go ahead only when you trust our arrangement."

Kasia freed her hand and turned, palming Thorstein's chest and pushing him back. His heart raced.

"Spit it out then."

He cocked his head.

"You are definitely going to keep professional, right? This goes forward on your terms and you might get a bit proud at first, but plenty of women do it."

"Do what?"

Thorstein scratched his brow and looked around.

"It's less about... what you could do. More like... who you could bring..."

In an instant Kasia flinched, gasped, and went rigid.

She grabbed Thorstein's shirt and swung him to the ground. Her other hand pulled his wrist up his back. Thorstein bellowed with laughter.

"Fuck me you're strong!" he grunted in pain, "okay! I was only asking! I told you you could say no-"

"Say her name."

"Alright Kasia! Don't worry! I'm just coked up! You sure you don't want a line?"

"Say her name!"

Kasia turned him around. He pushed his smile down and struggled for air.

"Yup not doing that. Didn't you say you'd keep professional? My offer was sincere, and don't think I'd have mistreated her. Not with you waiting in the car... or would you have sent Yorkie?"

He burst out laughing, and missed the blank stare falling over Kasia's face.

Nor did he hear the gentle tone of metal hissing against wood.

Kasia's knife hung over him and dropped. She stabbed and hacked until he could laugh no more. And the knife could not satisfy. She tore the wounds with her hands, pulling apart bones and flesh. Organs twanged free and slid from her fingers, hatred poured screaming from her lips. She swore to her victim's ruptured face he would not be the last. He was a mere symptom of her real issue.

Everything.

Hate exhausted itself. Despair took its place to torment her. Kasia shoved backwards against the lover's statue and wailed, pleading for her mother, her grandmother, for someone in the world to offer her one connection that would treat her right. For one person to tell her one simple truth that made sense.

The despair died down. She saw red hand prints on a lover's marble thighs. Her hand prints. Her eyes wandered to the corpse nearby.

Reality returned, bringing terror with it.

Kasia fled, realising on the ground floor she should have taken the USB as leverage.

Then she realised she'd left the bank card - not only failing the mission, but losing financial means to flee with Eva. It was too late to run back and sift Thorstein's office.

She crawled past the auto-cab and made it to the main road. Canary Wharf's open air felt like a dreamworld, a cyberreality. Its denizens walked the streets, a species distinct from hers; a threat to her safety.

Still distracted by their phones though. She needed to hide before one of them spotted her.

A small square over the road looked human-free. A sign said 'Reuters Plaza'. Kasia sprinted through its trees and tucked herself under an angular granite sculpture.

She needed to pass Canary Wharf's border. The checkpoint was too risky, the tube barriers impassable. She could try swimming the Thames, but getting there either involved witnesses, or paddling the docks and searching for an outlet. Both too noticeable, and being noticed was a second preference behind drowning.

Eva first. Kasia called Imany, apologising and admitting fault, begging her to find Eva and hide. Imany agreed without questioning and said to call again when possible.

Kasia phoned Sermon next.

"Uhh… yea?"

"Sermon!?"

"Yea? Kash? What's up?"

"I need your help I really fucked up..."

"Uh… What?"

"I don't wanna say… I can't…" Kasia peered out of the sculpture and flitted back in.

"Are you at home, or?"

"Canary Wharf…"

"…Canary Wharf!? What the hell are you doin' there!? You on assignment!?"

"You have to come and get me! Please Sermon..."

"Are you on an assignment Kash!?"

"Yes! Can you please get me!?"

"Where's your driver!?"

"I'm not getting in it!"

"Kash go back to the driver yea. Whatever happened it's safer than stickin' out in the Wharf. Are the police involved?"

An idea struck. If she called the police she could plead self-defence. She still had the detective's number all these weeks and lifetimes later.

A barrage of counter-reasons struck back. She'd be fighting oligarchs, her actions would go public, her daughter would be dragged with her.

"Kash!?"

She trembled, "I killed someone…"

The line went quiet. Kasia held the sculpture before she could topple over and faint.

"Get to your driver and I'll sort out meetin' ya."

Hu hung up. Kasia hurried to the auto-cab, too frightened to notice the growing, scornful pedestrian crowd.

They headed towards base. Kasia rested in the foetal position on the cab's floor. She stank of blood and expensive cologne.

She failed to see the cab detour. It jerked, swerved into a garage, braked hard.

The garage door rattled down. Floodlights beamed. Kasia sat up and found herself surrounded.

Red arms reached into the cab. Guardsmen dragged Kasia out and restrained her. She endured the pain, and glimpsed another of life's insults: Sermon, and her former squadmates, in uniform.

They were turning her in.

Two hands grabbed her chest and lifted her off the floor. All she could see now was the sergeant major's fury.