And All Things Nice
by Budjette G. Tan
Manila, 2072 A.D.
She never really bothered to find out what her father did for a living. All that mattered was that her dad uploaded her allowance to her cred-chip every week and that she was allowed to use the grav-car on Friday nights. She’d leave little holo-notes to her dad, being the sweet daughter that she is, to remind her dad that she loves him and that she needed some extra creds for the sale at the Ayala-Infinity-Mall.
She never knew that father was one of the most important men working for the Hexagon BioCorporation, that her father was known as The Smith in certain circles, labeled the WeaponSmith under classified files, and was called the Blacksmith by his enemies.
So, it was quite a shock to her (and embarrassing) when her cred-chip was denied at the club due to insufficient funds. How could her dad forget to reload her account? That night, she went home to their unit, on the 171st floor of the Rockwell complex, and discovered that it had been ransacked. What wasn’t found was the holo-note that was only activated by her vocal patterns.
“My dearest daughter, if you are viewing this note, then something terrible has happened to me…” announced her father’s holographic image. “Listen careful, and following everything that I say…”
Her father started to babble about Project: Bird of Prey and nanomachines enhancing people on a cellular level, about artificial adrenaline-surges and mimetic alloys, about a secret place and the device that can only be activated by her.
The only thing she understood was about their “secret place”— the dollhouse she got her seventh birthday. She ran to her room and opened up the dollhouse. She cried for her dad to tell her what to do next, but no holo-note switched on. She then noticed a pendant in the miniature bedroom, a trinket that shouldn’t be there. It was warm to the touch and shined like mercury. She stared at it and tried to look for an answer to her father’s riddle.
An explosion suddenly blasted her across the room. The wall of her room was now gaping hole. Soldiers wearing hover-packs flew in, armed with laser rifles. Before she could recover, one of the men grabbed her by the arm.
Having no other place to hide the pendant, she swallowed it.
The commanding officer of the attack squad approached her and asked for the password to her father’s computer. She was too frightened to answered.
The officer shot her in the leg. She fell down to the floor. The officer grabbed hold of her chin and lifted up her face, “Be a good girl, Narda. Tell me the password!”
And she yelled it out loud, “Adarna!”
An explosion suddenly blasted the soldiers across-- and outside the room!
In the middle of the room stood Narda, now clad in a shiny red armor; confused, hurt, and feeling power and anger build up inside her… ready to explode once more because that bastard officer just broke her nail.
end
This story was written as a submission to an anthology of short fiction (500 words or less). No confirmation if it will be included, but the book is supposed to be made available sometime next year.