Social Agent Dandelion seemed attentive, but emotionless, viewing herself in a hanging oval mirror in the prop house. She slid her fingers carefully, pulling on her candy-apple red gloves, the same color as her lipstick, before pulling each wrist strap tight. She swiped back her sunny blonde hair, before placing her uniform cap down on her head gently and precisely. When she was done there at the mirror, her cobalt-blue eyes sparkled while giving herself a cocky look.
Nancy had a hard time not loving Dandelion, she could understand why Alex would, the girl kept herself looking tight after all, like a social agent should. And the girl was good at everything a social agent should be, apparently. There wasn’t a contest Social Agent Dandelion couldn’t win. Whether it was shooting, running, driving, or just posing in her red lipstick in a photo shoot for Forward Magazine, she won them all, and the news girls made sure every girl knew it. She’s “America’s Favorite Social Agent” after all.
Whenever an interview of a social agent was needed, they went to Dandelion first. Even when the Goldenaster Building burnt down, two thousand and six hundred miles away from the girl, they got Dandelion in front of the cameras. America’s favorite needed to comment on everything.
Her endless promotion, while annoying, was acceptable to Nancy. Other girls though, took it harder, like Jean Paris Foxglove. She hated Dandelion the most. Both of them were good at everything, each claimed, and both assumed the captain’s desk was there waiting for them. Lilac had once summarized the difference between Dandelion and Foxglove, when she said, “There are social agents news girls won’t talk about, and then there are social agents they talk about all the time.”
Social Agent Foxglove stretched out on the couch against the wall, under a hanging blanket that covered the only window. She fiddled with her handgun, cocking it, again and again, while she watched Dandelion obsessively, brooding as she did it.
Dandelion seemed to know too and was pleased to continue her show in front of the mirror, while maintaining that cocky look of hers. This made Foxglove smolder even more. At least, thought Nancy, Foxglove wasn’t bothering her. The black-haired and copper-eyed social agent kept her judgmental eyes locked on Dandelion only.
“Girls,” Dandelion spoke up, straightening her outfit one last time, “Did you see the news last week. I had dinner in the capital with the Lady General. Fabulous girl.”
“Go piss yourself,” said Foxglove.
“Some girl must have leaked it. It was supposed to be a private dinner.”
“I couldn’t imagine who’d do a thing like that,” Clover said from a sofa chair in the corner, legs half-crossed, picking something in her teeth with her forest-green glove.
Foxglove cracked a smile, “Must have been a slow news day, because who gives a damn about what a red-lipped ass-kissing bitch has for dinner?”
“Hmmm.” Dandelion touched up her lipstick. “The Lady General of the Department of Safety did. I had the tuna dish. In case you’re wondering.”
“I bet,” Clover snickered to herself.
Dandelion’s official nickname was “the lion,” as far as her fans were concerned, but a few social agents liked to whisper “the dandy” instead, behind her back, of course.
“Girls, I love it,” Dandelion said, “You’re so feisty, so much fun.”
Foxglove rolled her eyes.
“I wish I had this kind of fun banter on the west coast. But I’m stuck with social agents, so bland, so quiet. Like Tassel Rue, a girl can never tell what she’s really thinking. I wonder if she hates me sometimes,” Dandelion laughed playfully, but obviously insincerely.
“I wish I could blow your brains out right now,” Foxglove said coldly. “Is that the kind of fun banter you like?”
Dandelion turned, shaking her finger, “Tsk, tsk,” her face looked amused, “I might just be your boss one day, dear. You never know.”
“Over my dead body.”
Dandelion giggled, shrugged her shoulders, and turned back to the mirror to touch up her lipstick again. Foxglove went back to brooding and cocking her gun.
With a boom, the door slammed open. In stomped Director Lilac, followed by Social Agent Rue and the virgin girl, Jasper, who was carrying a case. Dandelion pocketed her lipstick and Foxglove holstered her gun. Well, I feel a little safer, Nancy thought, now that their weapons are put away.
Nancy tugged the last of her new tan boots onto her left foot. She stood up and wiggled her toes, trying to get comfortable in the stiff synthetic leather. Lilac had found Nancy a whole new uniform, including gloves that matched the boots. They weren’t exactly her color, but that was fine. At least she would be in uniform.
In place of her missing cap badge, Lilac had given Nancy a dupe made by an imposter social agent years ago. It wasn’t a copy of Nancy’s, but actually of the counterfeiter’s sister, a social agent who died in the line of duty. The badge duper lost her marbles after her sister’s death and took over the social agent’s identity for over a year. The badge had Linda Dove’s name on it.
“All right,” Lilac said, “the package is coming on a zeppelin. It is, what we thought.” After taking a hit off her cigarette, Lilac continued, “Somehow, they got a new mutation of the super-virus. They plan on turning the clock back--forever. And they are bringing it here, over our heads...”
Most travel, even in the air, was monitored by the Department of Safety. That made transporting illegal materials like guns, drugs, and bootleg media very difficult. But zeppelins were privately owned by the wealthy, and were not under the surveillance of the Department of Safety, usually. And for sure, the airships never got subjected to regular federal roadblocks or airport security.
“We have to hit them when the zeppelin lands,” said Dandelion, “and seize the package immediately. All of us together can do it.” The blonde was purposely dramatic, but that seemed normal for her. Lilac wasn’t moved though.
“That’s not the plan, exactly,” Lilac said. “We also need to get Lily.”
“Fine. Leave the zeppelin to me and Rue, and you girls can get Lily.”
“Dandelion,” Lilac responded, “stop and listen. The zeppelin will dock at eight thirty on top of Magnolia Tower. The passengers will get off there. And so will the package. The carrier will be bringing it to the queens, all four, I’ve been informed.”
Even the Queen of Clubs too? Nancy wondered to herself.
Magnolia Tower had Black Hat Security and police on call, not that the police amounted to much. But the Black Hat girls were another story. They were a security firm from Eastern Europe and operated more like a mercenary army than regular security. Rich girls used them. They don’t talk, they follow any order, and are highly trained.
Lily was being held in the basement of Magnolia Tower, or, at least, that’s where her phone had been tracked last. The last message left on Lily’s own voice mail was, “Don’t come. No, no, NO!” And that was it. The message was obviously meant for social agents to hear. The Sicarii were inviting us. Poor Lily was most likely dead already, or something worse. Lilac pretended like she didn’t care and made a point to say “Losing a social agent is routine.” Which it was, as all the girls knew.
Lilac’s plan was straight forward enough. Dandelion, Foxglove, Clover, Jasper, and Rue were going to the Magnolia Plaza, acting normal. All social agents in the city had been invited to meet the Mother Most Superior anyway, so there should be no problems with that.
The other social agents, the girls not wise to what was happening, would be helping the police deal with crowd control. Foxglove had ordered Social Agent Violet to take the lead in that task. And Violet wasn’t happy about that, as Foxglove needed to comment with a slight smirk. No girl ever liked getting stuck with crowd control duty for sure. The overwhelming stink of human flesh could be hard to stand.
Nancy and Lilac would enter the tower basement from the subway by themselves, hopefully unseen. Under Magnolia Plaza there was an old door that led to a tunnel, abandoned when construction halted years ago, that connected to the basement. Clover and Jasper, at eight o’ clock, would unlock the door and let Nancy and Lilac in. After rescuing Lily, if she was there, the social agents would take the maintenance elevator to the top of the tower and meet up with Dandelion and Foxglove.
“But the priority is the package,” Lilac reminded them, “not Lily.”
Every girl nodded.
Dandelion spoke up, “Why take the long route to the basement? Why not just use an emergency exit that’s closer?”
“The Sicarii will be expecting that move,” Lilac answered.
“Ah,” Dandelion said, “Keep the Sicarii guessing, I see.”
“Now, about the Queens. We can’t just walk up and arrest them. Even if we were sure who they were. But once we’ve got the package, then we’ve got ‘em. No suit in the capital will dare support them again secretly after that evidence is revealed to the public. That’s when we arrest the queens.”
“Wonderful,” Dandelion commented, “but if you had not kept me in the dark about the fake death stunt, maybe I could have helped more.”
“Maybe,” Lilac said, “but I told those I needed to tell only.”
“Not you,” Foxglove whispered, causing Clover to titter.
Nancy caught Dandelion sneaking a subtle and amused look at Foxglove and Clover. Foxglove gave her back a cold stare.
“Jasper,” Lilac said, pointing to the folding table against the wall. The virgin girl hustled over and dropped a case on top. She popped the case’s latches and opened it.
“The Queen of Spades has armor,” Lilac continued, “as Rose knows firsthand. Normally, we could use our own grade achilles suits, but that requires permission from the Lady General. And we can’t exactly explain what we are doing right now without risking too much. So, I called in a favor and got some AP magazines. One for each of us.”
Yes, Nancy thought. Those armor piercing rounds should be able to penetrate achilles Suits, even military grade. Still, she’d never fired on military-grade achilles suits with them before, so she couldn’t be totally positive. But at least the social agents would have a fighting chance against them hoped Nancy.
Later that afternoon, Nancy found herself at a window, looking out into the cityscape. She swore the city’s fumes had a slight hint of something burnt in them today. The other girls disagreed. Some claimed it was like wet fur, or melted asphalt, or even, oddly enough, like chicken noodle soup. The smell of the city could be different for every social agent on advantage formula. Humans had a hard time adapting to all the smells at once because they couldn’t selectively categorize them like an animal could. Really, all girls could be correct in their own way, Nancy believed.
Clover came up and slapped her green glove on Nancy’s shoulder, “Sniff, sniff,” the girl said, “what girl doesn’t love the smell of this marvelous city?” She wrinkled her nose and made a funny face. Patting Nancy, half-assed, Clover mentioned, “no one’s told you yet, I bet.”
Nancy picked Clover’s hand off her, “What?”
“I, well…,” Clover got quieter, “we tried to find him while you were sleeping. Lilac told me to. I searched all the old addresses and phone numbers. I visited his last address, an apartment in the park sector. His place was trashed. Looked like someone ransacked the hell out of it. I dug around. Found nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing useful. I saw old Dandelion’s flower hanging on the wall there, the only thing not smashed or ruined. But I checked around the building. A local boy told me he saw a girl in armor on the rooftops two days ago. He said it was purple and gold. Must have been you in the armor you borrowed. But he said he saw another one yesterday before I talked to him. Same color too.”
Another one? “Was there a helicopter?”
“Nope, no copter. But there were some military-looking girls snooping around the night before. One of them threatened a local. Told him she was going to feed his dick to him if he didn’t stop looking at her. Short platinum blonde. Raspy voice.”
“Sounds like a friend of mine. The second achilles suit must have been General Iris or one of her lieutenants returning in a suit for some reason.”
“I don’t know, but there was no sign of him at the apartment. Sorry.”
He wouldn’t be. He’s gone for sure. He’s safe now. “It’s okay Clover.”
“Right, just thought you should know. I’m sure he’ll show up sometime. But hey, I’m sure you’ll find someone else to definitely not have an illegal affair with soon.”
“You’ve been listening to gossip too much, Clover. He’s not some sort of secret lover.” He’s my husband. Nancy couldn’t believe she just thought that to herself. It wasn’t true, the wedding had been faked. She just wanted him to leave and be safe. It was her duty to pretend.
“Oh, sure. Then no big loss.”
“Right,” Nancy said with a shiver in her heart.
Clover walked away, with a little strut in her step. The girl linked up with Foxglove in the corner, and the girls chatted away, occasionally giving a look to Nancy.
Dandelion approached Nancy a short while later. The sunny blonde girl hadn’t said anything to Nancy the whole time. “Oh,” Dandelion said, “almost forgot Cinderella.” The old girl handed Nancy one of Sister Bertie’s borrowed heels. “Sorry, I got to the Villa de Oro too late, dear. You left quite a mess to clean up there, you know.” Then Dandelion turned and walked away.
Nancy turned back to the window. Holding the heel in her hands, she thought about the old phone and Dandelion not making it on time at Page Tulip’s apartment. If it weren’t for Lily and Clover, Nancy had to admit, she would be dead now. Dandelion hadn’t helped at all. Did the girl even try? Nancy wasn’t sure what to think about it right now.
The shoe in her hand reminded Nancy of Sister Bertie’s place. It still had a faint scent of the old sister’s fragrant home. I looked like a different girl when I said those vows to him in the garden. Those fake vows. She wondered if she had done enough to save him.
A gush of wind blew in, and that strange scent of ignited gunpowder came with it. She shut the window tight. Across the skyscraper tops, and over the antennas, the dark blue sky had turned into evening, and a white moon hovered over the city, full and giant-like. A full moon, tonight. Nancy felt uneasy, peering at the bright ugly thing. Bad Luck… for sure. Nancy pulled her new nine-point-nine from her holster, checked the ammo, and then slapped the magazine back into it hard.