It was twilight by the time Tiana came storming out of the building with indignation all over her face. “Do you have any idea how much they're charging for a drive to the city Arch?!”
Jason adjusted the huge bag on his shoulder. “Something outrageous, I'm sure.”
“Supply and demand, my eye,” she seethed. “I'll walk before I settle for their prices!”
Jason seemed surprised when she marched ahead. “Wait, you're serious?”
“Obviously.”
He switched the bag from one shoulder to the other and caught up. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why not pay the price? You have the money.”
“It's the principle of the thing.”
“You're not proving anything to anyone.”
“I'm spiting them. Like you said, I have the money. I refuse to let them have it.”
“As far as they know, you don't exist, and they haven't lost anything.”
“But they have, and that's good enough for me.” She allowed herself to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “What? Not everything I do has to be a big, flashy deal.”
“Ooooo-kaay... So why are we leaving the city?”
“I never intended to stay. I've worked with Shawn for years, and I do it long-distance to avoid Neil. But I needed some quick cash and I lost my Card.”
“Card?”
“Most people don't know they exist because it's so much easier to scan a fingerprint, which automatically affirms your ID by locating the matching print in the system. But a Card can access things just as well, and doesn't leave a print for people to trace.”
“You lost me.”
Tiana sighed exasperatedly. “Naiads don't have fingers to scan, right? Their human form is too perfect to have unique ridges-- their prints are all uniform swirls for traction purposes. How are they supposed to open Arches and bank accounts and such? The system can't tell them apart. So, they go through a technical process and get ID cards. To make one, you just need a blank Card, a name, a fingerprint (even if it's pointless, like for naiads), and a password. The Card itself has a serial number engraved on the outside; if you punch that serial number into a computer terminal, you can get the owner's name and whatever contact information is available. To use your Card, you have unlock it by holding your fingerprint to its sensory pad, then use it in the thirty-second time lapse. Whatever you use it on sees your name on the Card, but not your print or personal info.” Tiana slipped her dark blue card out of a jean pocket and waved it. “This card belongs to Indigo. If she makes a withdrawal, Neil can see her name. If she dumps her mushrooms into an account whose serial number is a mystery, he won't be able to follow the money. I can make a new card to access my old account, but to make the new one I'll have to verify my identity with my old password and my fingerprint.”
“So... what? He doesn't have your fingerprint.”
“That's the whole point! Look. He doesn't have my fingerprint, so he can't match it to anything. He can't see anything about my personal account because he doesn't have the serial number. BUT, if he goes to a public system terminal to make a card, it'll give him the next serial number in line-- so if I made card number 3764, he would get 3765. Once he has my number, 3764, he can type it in and see my real name-- not my print or password, but my name. Then he can go find my name in the City of my birth, and then he'll pick my life apart with all the juicy little details I left while growing up there. It would be a blackmail bonanza. So my assets are frozen and I don't like it. He's exerting his power, and it ticks me off. So, new city, new card.”
“Still lost.”
Tiana sighed in frustration. How did such a simple thing sound so complicated? She pulled a flyer out of her bag and wrote on the back with a marker.
New Card, Serial Number:
Name:
Contact info: (optional, I never leave any)
Fingerprint for identity: (even if it's pointless, as in Naiads' cases)
Password:
“A serial number will get you a name and whatever contact info is available. A new card with the same fingerprint and password will grant access to the old account. So, 'Indigo transfers all her mushrooms to Mystery Card. Card 3764 was made just after she left; Card 3764 belongs to this Name, therefore Mystery Card's Name is Indigo.' That's why I can't make a new one in this City.”
“What happened to your old Card?”
“You lost it. Along with my mp3. And flute-whistle. And cards. And phone. And light crystal. All of which I will be replacing with the money I'll eventually be able to withdraw.”
He was silent for a moment, then apparently remembered. “Oh. I'm really sorry about that.”
Tiana shrugged and shoved her hands in her fleece's pockets. “Forget it. It's not like it was worth a million mushrooms.” A memory of giving Cyrus a thank-you hug flashed through her mind. Never mind the sentimental value. That's all it is. Sentimental. Nothing more.
They walked in silence for a little while, then Jason spoke up. “Okay, it's just bugging me. I thought you had to maintain the Indigo act going in and coming out. Where'd you get the normal clothes?”
“I was normal going in.”
“I see.”
They passed an urban camp of refugees; probably people who couldn't afford the raised hotel prices and had nowhere else to go.
“You're not going to be talking all the time, are you?”
“Well... no. Why?”
“Good. I can't stand people who never shut up. They're annoying and attract too much attention.”
Jason stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait, shh.”
Tiana turned to face him. “Did you just--”
Jason dropped the bag quietly, drew his sword, and shushed her again as he stepped between her and a dark alleyway.
“Nice sword, kids.”
Jason didn't like the tone of that voice. It was too confident. Amused. Malicious. It was coming from the left of the alley; Jason recognized the sound of a running start, and the two strides were abnormally quick. His sword was on the downswing when it was twisted out of his grip; if he hadn't released it, his wrist would've broken.
The dark shape was suddenly leaning against the wall, twirling it. He whistled admiringly. “This should fetch a handsome price on the black market. Beautiful.”
Jason reached into his pocket, and the thief had a dagger to his neck. “Forget it, kid. It's over.”
An oversized bag whooshed, and he was knocked to the side. Tiana had pinned his arms with her knees and had her twin knives to his throat in less than two seconds. “Shoe's on the other foot now, Sunshine.”
His features twisted into a grin. “You wish.”
Jason had to resist a powerful urge to reach for his sword and yank her out of the way. Pockets of infinity, give my flying umbrella back to me.
Instead, his fingers closed around the handle of a magical umbrella. No sooner did he have it out than Tiana's arms were twisted behind her and she was forced to her knees at the arrival of three more men. Jason didn't have time to wonder how they were moving so fast. He judged the distance in a split second, and she was too far away. He was rocketing into the air when one of them grabbed his boot. Jason slammed the heel of his other foot into the hitchhiker's fingers, who released him with a howl of pain.
Jason landed on a fire escape and shouted, “Unhand her before I slay every one of you!”
Silence. Then a snicker. And they all laughed.
Jason didn't blame them; they had no idea what kind of goodies from hell were coming.
Tiana stopped struggling. There were too many of them, and they moved with superhuman speed. Plus, the skinny one who'd twisted her arms behind her back seemed about 15% too strong for his size. When Jason abandoned her, she'd felt several emotions begin to surge; rage, mostly. But when she stopped to think about it, he'd assessed the situation much more quickly than she had. His sword had swung before she'd moved a finger, and his hand plunged into his pocket the second he lost his sword. When the others showed up, he wouldn't have been able to reach her in time if he'd tried, so instead he pulled out the magic umbrella and flew to a safe distance, landed, and proceeded to threaten them. They laughed, of course.
Tiana wasn't sure what was about to go down. Would Jason actually kill them? If not, would they kill him? Either way, she was helpless, in danger, and though she wouldn't admit it, scared.
“Let's see...” Jason wasn't shouting, per se, but projected his voice to carry all the way down. “What have I got in my pocket?”
