Kira
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About this ebook
Kira's town has so far survived the destruction wrought by the Government on so many others. But for how much longer? In the middle of a blistering desert, her people are out of fuel, out of clean water, and out of options. The Government will destroy them sooner or later, and they won't survive relocation. Their only chance is to attack first. But Kira knows that's no chance at all.
(Short story)
Ross Harrison
Ross Harrison is the author of novels and short stories in the realms of science fiction - specifically space opera and science fantasy - thriller, noir, and steampunk. He has been writing since childhood, and occasionally likes to revisit those old stories for a good cringe and nervous laugh. He also talks about himself in the 3rd person because it seems more professional.Ross lives on the UK/Eire border in Ireland, where he moved from England in 2001, hoping the rain will help his hair grow back.
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Kira - Ross Harrison
Kira
Ross Harrison
Copyright © 2012 Ross Harrison
Cover by Cui Yuan, copyright © 2012 Ross Harrison
Smashwords Edition
The right of Ross Harrison to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act 1988.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.
Kira stumbled around the corner and finally stopped for breath.
As she leant against the warm, slimy brickwork of a glassblower’s factory, a barely audible humming drew her gaze to the sky. Above the narrow alley, and between the wide pipes running across New Haven, her eyes met only thick black and grey smoke. But she knew that sound. It had bored into her skull for hours on her way here, stowed aboard one of the Government’s airships. They were already in the air looking for her. Or maybe she was flattering herself; maybe they were simply heading off on patrol.
While she contemplated her next step, she absently fingered the gashes in her strong leather corset. It was sliced through in at least five places, holding together thanks only to a few rivets. As far as she could tell, the blades hadn’t met her skin, but the surging adrenaline would hide any pain, so she couldn’t be certain.
Kira headed further into the alley. She had to get home and report on what she’d seen in New Haven. Since her town last dared a scouting party, the Government had advanced considerably – if her people attacked, they’d be wiped out.
Voices made her stop short as she approached a turn. A skeletal cat nosed through an overturned dustbin ahead; if she surprised it, the resulting noise would draw unwanted attention.
Going back would be a bad idea, though. Who knew how close the Government Agents were now. The only way was through one of the locked back doors in this alley, or up. She was better off on the rooftops anyway.
Kira still had her little grappling hook, but her tailor-made pistol, with its added capacity to fire the hook, was lost to those Agents. Pissers. Hoping her aim had improved since the last time she’d tried this, she swung the hook a few times, keeping her eyes firmly on the bracket holding one of the green-stained pipes to the wall. With a silent prayer to who knew what, she let it fly.
‘What was that?’
As she’d feared, the hook missed its mark, and made such a racket on its descent that it would have raised alarm even without the commotion of the terrified cat.
‘Might be that little bleeder wot the Agents is after!’
Coppers, by the sound of it. Just her luck.
She had little choice but to try again. Boots pounded on cobblestones and splashed through puddles.
Trying as best she could to remain focused, she swung the hook and let it fly once more. This time it nearly did her enemies’ job for them as it plummeted back down, inches from her head. I seriously need practice.
No time for a third try, or even to run back the way she’d come.
From what she’d seen, the coppers weren’t trusted with the same advanced weapons the Agents were, so she’d have to rely on that and the absence of lamps here.
Abandoning the grappling hook, Kira pulled off her prized half-top, collapsed the cylinder flush with the curved brim and threw it. Two police officers thundered around the corner, the buttons of their sickeningly tidy uniforms glinting even in the dark of the alley. The razor edges of the topper’s brim sliced through the chest