Thieves’ Gambit

There were still some secret bars and unsavoury hideouts in Echo City that Yen Ortrix hadn’t visited, which, given her current predicament, was fortunate. She needed a place to lie low for a while until the shit storm she had stirred up died down. How long would that be? She figured it would be quite some time. Over the years, she had angered Zorix Kyril and stolen from his criminal organisation too many times. Whenever Kyril caught up with her, she always managed to talk her way out of being killed, ending up working off her debts. After all, she was one of the best thieves in Echo City, and Kyril prided himself on working with the best—until they tried swindling him or, even worse, stealing from him.

“This is your last chance, Yen,” Kyril had warned from the comfort of his plush, levitating throne chair. Behind him, a high glass window showcased his nightclub, Quantum Nightz, in full swing, with blue pulsating neon lights and revellers dancing in an almost trance-like state as the DJ played rhythmic electronica. “Steal anything of mine again, and I’ll kill you myself.” Kyril held up his bulky, strong hands for Yen to see. On a couple of occasions, she had seen those hands kill two thieves—one strangled single-handedly, and the other’s head ripped from their shoulders. “Do we understand each other, Yen?”

Yen said, of course, she understood and that it wouldn’t happen again. But like most thieves in Echo City, Yen was good at lying, and she also liked money. There were plenty of clients in Echo City’s underworld willing to pay a good price to steal merchandise belonging to the overarching crime lord, Zorix Kyril.

Thieves in Echo City didn’t tend to have friends but rather people who owed them favours, and in criminal circles, owing favours was a sacrosanct code. You honoured them no matter what the risk. Those who broke the code might as well have slit their own throats. Once word got around that you didn’t honour your word, you were as good as dead anyway.

Yen had used all but one of her favours, and this favour was specifically kept for this very reason: her life depended on it. She tried to recall how long she had been holding onto this particular favour. Was it five years? It could easily have been fifteen.

No one knew how old The Bookkeeper was, their name, or how they came to be such an integral part of Echo City’s underbelly. The Bookkeeper knew everything and anything that happened in the city. They were the go-to person when things needed to be fixed or acquired.

The Bookkeeper was regarded as almost a saintly figure and highly revered by the criminal underworld. It was an unwritten rule that not a single hair upon The Bookkeeper’s head should ever be harmed. But times were changing, and The Bookkeeper, having been around for a long time, knew that eventually, the pact would become null and void. It was becoming a matter of when, not if.

“I was wondering when to expect your call, Miss Ortrix,” The Bookkeeper said from his desk, surrounded by piles of books, files, and letters. The phone was wedged between his ear and neck as he read a very surprising report about an Echo City senator. In a matter of days, once The Bookkeeper passed the report to his client, the senator wouldn’t be a senator much longer. The Bookkeeper doubted they would even be alive. Death was only the honourable thing to do in these situations.

“How did you know it was me?” Yen asked, seeking shelter from the rain in a narrow alley dimly lit by yellow and green neon lights. The hood of her jacket was pulled over her head to conceal her unique appearance.

“Bad news travels fast in the city,” The Bookkeeper replied. “And by the sound of the rain, you’re still in it.”

“Yeah, my exit strategy was compromised.”

“Did your exit strategy see sense?”

“Something like that.”

“In the last thirty minutes, you’ve become suddenly very popular, Miss Ortrix,” The Bookkeeper remarked, neither sarcastically nor jovially. They never showed their feelings or gave any of their clients special treatment. “Zorix Kyril has put quite the bounty on your head.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Very much dead.” The Bookkeeper sealed the report that would condemn the senator to death in a large brown envelope. A courier would be coming to his office shortly to pick it up.

“What price has Kyril put on my head?” Yen asked, panicking slightly as she thought she saw someone approaching down the alley. It was just the howling rain and her adrenaline fuelled imagination.

“50,000 tokens, Miss Ortrix,” The Bookkeeper informed her with almost a hint of admiration. “In my long and varied career in Echo City, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a bounty on someone’s head before. Whatever you’ve stolen from Zorix Kyril this time, he wants you out of his and the city’s life for good.”

“You know exactly what I’ve stolen,” Yen stated.

“Perhaps I do,” The Bookkeeper admitted. Yen couldn’t see it, but The Bookkeeper was rather impressed with Yen’s thievery, not that he would ever show it or say it. “Have you managed to give your client the databank, or should I say, Zorix Kyril’s Little Black Book of Secrets?”

“You know I haven’t,” Yen said.

“Hence this conversation. You want to finally call in your favour, Miss Ortrix?”

“Damn right I do.”

The Bookkeeper leaned back in his chair and lit a menthol cigarette. “There are hitmen, assassins, mercenaries, and ordinary people seeking fortune looking for you, and they’re not just from Echo City but are coming from Ky-Bayern, Arcadia-Syx, and as far as Meta City.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yen said, digesting what The Bookkeeper had just said. Kyril really wants me dead this time, she thought. “Just get me to a safe haven for a while.”

“In the city?”

“Yes, in the city.”

“Is that wise?”

“Just find me a safe place to hide. That’s the favour I’m calling in.”

“You’re a thief, Miss Ortrix. Not a trained killer. The people hunting you are. Some of them have been my clients, and they aren’t kind individuals. Their killing techniques are ungodly.”

“Just find me a place to lie low, Bookkeeper,” Yen firmly stated. “Leave the rest to me.”

“Very well, Miss Ortrix,” The Bookkeeper conceded. “One question, though. What are your plans for Zorix Kyril’s databank?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

Suffering from insomnia, Rizuki Hikaro had been enjoying a few precious moments of slumber. However, his rest was interrupted by an unexpected tele-call from the Bookkeeper—a role from which tele-calls were always unexpected. Wishing he had been in a deeper state of sleep and had not answered, Hikaro was nonetheless aware of the Bookkeeper’s persistence and impatience. He knew that ignoring the tele-call would only result in one of the Bookkeeper’s many brutish associates being sent to his house to wake him—an experience that would certainly not be enjoyable either.

Half asleep and half annoyed, Hikaro begrudgingly led the rain-soaked woman into his home. Once they were in his resting quarters, she lowered her hood. Her hair was dyed a shocking shade of pink; each strand fell in rebellious waves that seemed to be at odds with the thoughtful sculpture of her face. Her eyes were deep pools of blue, like clear windows to a soul that knows more than it’s telling. Her heavy lashes half-masked the stories behind them. Silver piercings traced the line of her ear, a declaration of defiance, while a trio of rings punctured her bottom lip. Around her neck, she wore a choker like a cat’s collar. Hikaro thought the woman was a contradiction, a blend of vulnerability and impenetrable strength, a character in Echo City that never sleeps and was hiding secrets—or something far more sinister.

“You must be important,” Hikaro said as he boiled the kettle and placed two porcelain cups on the sideboard. “Would you care for a cup of Puerh tea?”

“That would be great. But I’m not important. I’m just in a bit of trouble at the moment.”

Hikaro nodded as if he understood the woman’s plight. It was respectful to nod in sympathy anyway. “The Bookkeeper thinks highly of you. He’s never tele-called me at this time of night before.”

“Does the Bookkeeper often tele-call you?”

“No, which I’m thankful for. But when they do tele-call, it’s during civilized hours.” Hikaro placed a triangular tea bag of Puerh in each cup. “My name’s Rizuki Hikaro, but most people call me Hikaro.”

“Yen Ortrix. Some call me the pink-haired bitch. The Bookkeeper calls me Miss Ortrix. Everyone else calls me Yen.”

“Yen it is then,” Hikaro said, shaking her hand.

Yen was surprised that Hikaro showed no signs of recognising her name. “The Bookkeeper didn’t tell you about my situation?” Yen eyed Hikaro with suspicion.

“A little bit.”

“Do you often house people in my situation?”

“I do,” Hikaro nodded with pride. “Sometimes it’s for a day. I once had an individual here for almost six months.”

“Did the Bookkeeper say how long I would be here for?”

“That he didn’t, and he never does. It’s mostly up to the person when they think it’s safe to leave my home.” Hikaro turned his attention to the kettle as it boiled. He began to pour boiling water into the cups. “Do you have any idea how long you may require my hospitality?”

Yen had two words for her host. “Zorix. Kyril.”

Hikaro’s head twisted erratically to look at Yen. His pupils had suddenly dilated with severity at the current situation he now found himself in. “Is that who you’re running from?”

“Not for the first time,” Yen said. “But it will be for the final time.”

Hikaro used a wooden straining spoon to remove all the goodness from the tea bag. He handed Yen her steaming cup of Puerh tea. “Do you have family in Echo City?”

Yen shook her head. “Orphaned since the age of six.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hikaro said genuinely. “But I fear that may be a good thing. Drink your tea, Yen. I’ll go and make up your bed.”

Yen savoured every drop of the Puerh tea as she tried to come up with an exit strategy for her current predicament. Echo City was the biggest city by far in Terravista, but she knew it wasn’t big enough to hide in forever. It was now just a matter of time before Zorix Kyril’s paid goons found her.

Yen couldn’t remember the last time she had a hot shower. Although Rizuki Hikaro’s house was simple and minimalistic, the shower room was luxurious and state-of-the-art. Yen had stayed in some extravagant hotels and houses (some by invitation, some by trespass), and Hikaro’s shower room was on another level of opulence.

The extravagant, sweet-smelling lotion she applied to her body washed away weeks of sweat, grime, and Echo City pollution. She was left feeling completely smooth and refreshed. The thick, silky shampoo and conditioner she used breathed life into her hair. After delicately towelling her athletic yet scar-ridden body dry and blow-drying her hair with a wireless hairdryer, she dressed in simple white cotton trousers and a t-shirt that Hikaro had left on her bed.

“The clothes fit perfectly,” Yen said as she entered Hikaro’s resting quarters.

Hikaro was seated at the table with a pot of Puerh tea. “I have an eye for these things,” he said, sipping his tea. “I think it’s my superpower. Not that it’s a great power to have. What superpower would you like?” Hikaro poured Yen a cup of tea and motioned for her to sit down opposite him.

“In my current situation, teleportation.” Yen sipped the tea and almost groaned with satisfaction. She had never tasted Puerh like it. Just like the shower room, she thought the tea must be a high-end variety too. “This tea tastes different from the last cup.”

“I’ve poisoned it. That’s why.” Yen paused with the cup pressed to her lips. “Rest easy, Yen. I’m joking. The Puerh tea you’re drinking is an expensive variety. I only let important people taste it. May I ask if you enjoyed my washroom facilities?” Yen remained with the cup poised against her lips. “Please drink the tea. My joke was in poor taste.”

Yen waited a few moments before sipping more of the Puerh tea. “Your shower room was something else, Hikaro. I feel almost reborn.”

“I think it’s important to cleanse the body before death,” Hikaro said in a tone so different from when Yen first met him. It was cold, menacing, and riddled with anger.

Yen spent the next few moments in silence as she drank the remainder of the Puerh tea. When finished, she carefully placed the cup on the table and looked intently at the man before her. Rizuki Hikaro came across just like any other ordinary middle-aged man in Echo City—bland in appearance with nothing interesting going on in their life. But behind Hikaro’s eyes now lay something far more than blandness. A desire burned bright.

“Who are you?” Yen remained calm as she rested her arms on the table, feeling like an Echo City cop interrogating a criminal.

Hikaro dipped a hand next to his chair and produced the databank Yen had stolen. He carefully placed it on the table as if it was the most precious and delicate thing in the world.

“Zorix Kyril’s Little Black Book of Secrets, I believe,” Hikaro said. “I was expecting something far grander, if I’m honest.” Suddenly, Hikaro then used the palm of his hand and violently smashed the databank until there was nothing left.

Yen sat open-mouthed at what Hikaro had just done. “Why did you do that? Why did you do that?!” Yen jumped to her feet in hysteria. “Do you know how much that databank was worth?”

“Please sit down. I won’t ask a second time.” Yen sat down, feeling that one did as Rizuki Hikaro said the first time of asking. “There’s a 50,000 token bounty on your head for its return,” Hikaro said. “Zorix Kyril’s empire is worth at least 20 million tokens. So, I guess the databank was worth a token or two.”

“The Bookkeeper has screwed me over, hasn’t he?”

“Far from it. He honoured your favour,” Hikaro sipped more of the tea. “You will not come to any harm from any assassin or hitman seeking Zorix Kyril’s bounty while under my roof. That, I can assure you.”

“But you’re going to harm me?”

“You asked me who I was before. I have not lied to you, Yen. My name is Rizuki Hikaro. I know it means nothing to you. Does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. Should it?”

“A long time ago, the mere mention of my name would make you want to jump in front of a bullet train or from the rooftop a skyscraper, especially if you were in my bad books.” Hikaro leaned back in his chair. “If I were to tele-call Zorix Kyril now and tell him I had you in my home, the only thing you would hear would be the sound of him blowing his brains out.”

“I don’t understand,” Yen stammered. “When I mentioned Kyril’s name, you looked frightened.”

“Yes, I did,” Hikaro laughed. “I was playing a part. Forgive me. I think it’s best I tell you who I am. When I was a boy, Echo City was nothing but a dust bowl of shattered dreams and broken buildings. Then, favour by favour, brick by brick, dream by dream, I helped build and craft the city we have today. Anything and everything that happens flows through me while I decide to live in my humble home. I let these so-called underbelly criminals live in fancy mansions, have their fun and money. But they all know their place, beneath me, until they either disrespect me or I grow tired of them.”

Everything came crashing down around Yen as she fully understood the situation she found herself in. “You’ve grown tired of Zorix Kyril. That’s why you destroyed his databank. I never met my client who paid for me to steal it. Are you the client?”

“I am,” Hikaro nodded solemnly.

“All my years of thievery in Echo City, I’ve really been stealing from you.”

“You have.” Hikaro sipped the last of his tea.

“And there’s no way I can talk my way out of this?”

“Sadly not, Yen.”

“That’s a shame.” When Yen had tele-called the Bookkeeper to call in her favour, she knew something was off. He didn’t say it to her on the call, but his tone told her enough. There were more players at that game than she thought. So en route to Rizuki Hikaro’s house, she acquired something to ensure her safety. She strapped it to her back and even took it into the shower room with her.

Hikaro swiftly pulled out an E-Pistol and aimed it at Yen just as Yen drew her E-Pistol and aimed it at Hikaro.

“It seems we have a standoff,” Rizuki Hikaro said.

“Sure looks like it,” Yen Ortrix agreed.

They both let the silence fall for a few seconds before, at the very same time, they pulled their triggers.