The Lucifer Deck Read Free Page A

darted nervously around the room.
    "Some ork kid claims to have a hot story. Won’t talk to anyone but Carla Harris, ‘ace snoop’ for KKRU Trideo News."
    Carla stifled a yawn. It had been a long shift, with three hours’ overtime. "Did he say what it was about?"
    "She." Masaki shrugged. He was overweight, and spoke with a wheezy voice. A graying mustache and beard framed his soft mouth, but his cheeks were clean-shaven. "The kid muttered something about your series on Humanis Policlub. When I pushed for more, she froze up. Hard to tell if she’s got anything worth saying. But there might be something there."
    Carla snorted. "Trying to steal my story, eh, Masaki?"
    He grinned at her. "Can’t blame a snoop for trying."
    Carla walked down the hall toward the lobby. Pausing before the reception area’s tinted door, she put her cybereye in record mode. The kid was probably just another Streeter, vying for her fifteen seconds of fame. But it didn’t hurt to shoot a little trid, just in case.
    "Hi, kid." Carla crossed the room with smooth, graceful strides, intending to settle on the chair beside the ork. But halfway across she caught the odor that clung to the kid. Had the girl been sleeping in a trash heap? Wrinkling her nose, Carla chose a chair a couple of meters away. Her cybereye whirred as it telephotoed in on a tight head shot, then automatically focused.
    The girl visibly started at the greeting. Synthleather creaked as she leaned forward, resting on the very edge of her seat. The toes of her sneakers were poised on the polished tiles of the floor as if she were a sprinter preparing to run. Carla leaned forward in her best reassuring pose. "You got a story for me, kid?"
    The ork wet her lips and glanced up at the videocam that monitored the lobby. "Not here." she whispered.
    "Before I’ll let you in the studio, you’re gonna have to convince me you’ve got something." Carla prompted.
    While the ork chewed her lip, trying to decide whether or not to talk, Carla let her camera pan the girl. It was hard to tell how old these ork kids were. They bulked up quicker than normal children. Carla guessed the girl was in her mid-teens. A street waif, by the look of her torn clothes. And by the smell of her. Carla half rose, as if tired of waiting.
    "Wait!" The girl cracked her knuckles with nervous twists of her hands. Carla groaned inwardly. If the interview really cooked, she’d have to edit the noise out later.
    "That story you did, on the three orks that died." The girl’s lip quivered for a moment as she sucked in a deep breath. "Those were my friends."
    "Sorry to hear that, Miz—"
    "Pa . . . Pita." The girl answered.
    "No last name?"
    Pita shook her head.
    "And you want to make a comment on their deaths?" The girl nodded.
    "Sorry." Carla answered. "Old news. They died two nights ago. We gave it a thirty-second spot. Quite a long piece, considering the fact that it was the tenth Humanis Policlub bashing this year. Only the fact that their blood was used to paint the slogans made it newsworthy at all."
    The girl’s face suddenly paled. Carla sighed and hoped the kid wasn’t going to heave on the floor. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt. But then, news was a hard-ass business.
    Carla nearly missed the girl’s whisper as she walked back to the door. Only the amplified hearing mod in her right ear picked it up.
    "Humanis Policlub didn’t kill my friends. Lone Star Security did."
    "What?" Carla spun around, cursing herself for not getting it on trideo. "You got proof of that, kid?"
    The ork met Carla’s eyes for a fleeting second, then dropped her gaze back to the floor. "I saw the whole thing. They were shot from a Lone Star patrol car. The cops tried to scrag me, too, but I ran away. Later I came back and saw ... and saw ..
    Tears spilled down the girl’s cheeks. Carla crouched low, giving her cybercam a better angle. She did a slow zoom until the girl’s face filled the eye’s field of view, let it