Mardock Scramble

“Well, I hope that nothing more is going to happen—that’d be good.” Oeufcoque’s words were somewhat deflating.

–I never know whether I can rely on you or not! Balot told him, a little angry.

“That’s a problem. You’re supposed to be a witness to my usefulness in this case, after all,” Oeufcoque said, genuinely concerned now, and as he did so the car moved toward the mall exit. Then a large van emerged at their flank, and Oeufcoque immediately ordered, “Enemies! Snarc the car and let’s escape!”

–See, I told you something would happen.

Balot, who really was angry now, snarced the car as a reflex action. The car sped on—at a speed much higher than its official limit—and, barely sticking to the road, squeezed in front of the van.

Balot looked back and saw it following immediately behind them. Listening to the clamor of car horns sounding all around in protest, she asked,

–What do we do now?

“Let’s shake them off, using your abilities. I’ll give the directions.”

Oeufcoque turned into a Nav, and she asked him,

–So I should make the car go full speed ahead?

“Yes, with your seat belt fastened and watching out for pedestrians.”

–And I can truly rely on you?

“Absolutely.”

Balot pursed her lips and fastened her seat belt. Still looking at the display on the Nav in her hand, she concentrated on the inner workings of the car and snarced its circuits for all she was worth.

In an instant she grasped the layout of all the cars in her surroundings, the positions of all the pedestrians, and the obstacles—and, like a professional skateboarder, made the car jump through every little gap and opening, pushing swiftly onward.

–I’ve never driven a car before, Balot informed Oeufcoque (a little late in the day), but Oeufcoque just responded calmly, “There’s a first time for everything.”

As they pulled out of the East Side and entered the trunk road, two pairs of headlights emerged from behind and roared toward them, accelerating harshly. Their escape route had been read like a book. Without looking at the vans that were growing steadily nearer, Balot measured them, grasped them.

The window on the passenger side rolled down, and the barrel of a gun emerged from the gap.

“They’re going to start shooting at us, so dodge. Should be no problem with your abilities.”

It was strange—because Oeufcoque told her that this was true, she began to believe it herself.

Balot even knew the movements of the people inside the car. Even going nearly a hundred kilometers an hour, she could clearly grasp the movements of the person in the van putting their finger to the trigger.

Balot manipulated the whole car, snarcing every mechanism simultaneously.

The gunshot masked the sound of the car’s harsh breaking. Even as the bullet grazed the hood, the car swung around in a huge arc, moving in the opposite direction.

She grasped that the vans on either side had sped past and were now frantically trying to stop.

The car did a half turn, all four tires smoking, and sped off back the way it had come.

The cars that had been behind Balot were now in front of her, drivers frantically yanking their steering wheels. Balot grasped all their movements, dodged all the vehicles without a scratch, weaved through the oncoming traffic, and dashed on for a few hundred meters. She noticed that one of the vans behind her had stopped, crashed into one of the oncoming cars.

The car’s 180-degree turn and sprint were both Oeufcoque’s idea. Balot followed whatever path Oeufcoque indicated and found herself back in the bustling East Side.

–Oeufcoque, are you a pacifist? An extremist? Which is it?

“A pacifist, of course.”

–Would a pacifist make someone speed down a road the wrong way?

“It was the least risky means of dealing with the state of emergency that we were just in. It’s not as if I’m allowed to turn into a rocket launcher and blow the enemy away.”

–Could you really turn into something like that?

“It’s against the laws of the Commonwealth. If I turned into such a thing they’d dispose of me the very next day.”

–Even if it’s an emergency?

“It might be an emergency, but the ends don’t always justify the means.”

Unimpressed, Balot followed Oeufcoque’s directions, weaving freely through the complicated back streets of the city in order to try and shake off the other van. Soon they entered an underground tunnel, passed through a number of intersections, and when they re-emerged above ground near the central district of Mardock City the van was nowhere to be seen—all Balot could see was the night sky of early spring that flowed all around them like fresh black ink.