The Nero Orphanage was abuzz with joyful excitement. Tigfy… Tigrin, she reminded herself… was cleaning the canopy above the entrance doors, listening to the hubbub and absorbing the stream of emotions coming from inside the building.
Today, three babies were being adopted at once, adorable, vulnerable bundles no longer than her forearm, along with a twelve-year-old girl from Wing B and a thirteen-year-old Abnormal living next door to Tigrin and Virsavia. The Malformed did not know Soledad that well and had only exchanged a few words with Natalia, but the former had deftly reassembled Tigrin’s terminal when it fell apart, and the latter had coaxed them into trying her chicken stew, which turned out to be food of the gods. A favor for a favor, and the girl intended to do everything possible to brighten their day with joy.
The genuine happiness for their friends, emanating from the children, was intoxicating. Tigrin slightly dulled the stream of emotions that threatened to make her sway. Merriment prevailed: the orphanage’s sponsors made it a rule to treat the released wards, and today the lessons were shortened, granting unlimited access to movies and video games, along with various goodies straight from the bakery.
Dark-red wisps of envy also drifted through the corridors. Why not me? Why again not I? they asked. Faint shades of despair, anger, resignation, and timid fear rose above the celebrating children. Now Tigrin had an understanding: unpleasant emotions in themselves did not pose a danger. In the nursery, a child mentally crashing out and cursing everything in the world was changing the little ones’ diapers with astonishing tenderness, chatting with the caregiver about the upcoming match.
Deeds, not thoughts. She intended to learn that lesson.
She was also memorizing those closest to breaking. The soft-chattered… the therapist scolded her for disregarding privacy, yet always paid attention to those Tigrin pointed out.
The orphanage staff acted wisely by involving the children in helping with small daily tasks. Such activities awakened in them a spirit of belonging and distracted them from dark desires, proving their usefulness, though Tigrin was annoyed by Varia’s constant interference in her work. The mentor kept sending her off to play or rest after excessively short work intervals. Perhaps the other kids lacked endurance, but she was carved from sturdier bone! She could serve around the clock.
Tigrin wanted to serve. She liked Varia and the teachers. So why wouldn’t they let her give her all? She sensed no distrust in them, only an occasional, quickly passing fear.
Virsavia, her mouth stuffed with buns sprinkled with powdered sugar, had volunteered to assist the generator’s keeper. That crafty slacker! She’d taken the easiest chore and was probably spending the morning typing messages to her buddies.
Varia asked Tigrin to wait for her while she spoke with the person in charge of today’s surprise and then came to hang ribbons at the orphanage entrance. Tigrin promised, waited until the woman left, and instantly went to the janitor, taking a ladder, a bucket, and rags from him. Someone to spot her, what next! Who did they take her for, a cub? She could handle everything herself.
The height wasn’t great, but Tigrin still leaned the ladder against the wall near the doors and climbed up. The caregivers didn’t like claw marks inside or outside the building, and the repairmen often grumbled, advising Tigrin to wear gloves. Fine, today she would do everything by the rules.
The entrance to the orphanage was on a landing reached by two curving paths of steps, six steps each. Inside was a guard post. The guard put down his newspaper, staring through the open door at the climbing girl, and Tigrin released the bucket, deftly catching it with her tail without spilling a drop. She pressed her paws together pleadingly, smiling with her lips.
Fangs frightened the Softskins.
The guard nodded, resuming his reading. They were a decent bunch, but too vulnerable. Easily distracted. An entry, a swipe of a claw, and there would be one less guard.
That was why she needed to stay alert. Who besides her could protect the herd members?
Thick bushes spread out on both sides of the landing, ringing the orphanage. In her spare time, Virsavia moonlighted as the gardener’s assistant, clipping overgrown flowers with her claws to the delight of the younger kids.
The janitors looked after the grounds well, and there were only a few fallen leaves, twigs from the bushes, and a thin layer of sand on the canopy. Still, Tigrin thoroughly wiped the stone, intending to make everything as perfect as possible on the day of parting. She blew dust from the narrow gaps between the legs of two bronze eagles poised for flight and polished them until they gleamed. The left, newer statue shone warmly, while the ancient right one remained browner. Surprised, Tigrin paused and took out her terminal, photographing the stuff and asking a question.
Patina, hm… Her tail hefted the bucket onto the canopy while the girl read the article. There was so much in the world, and she knew nothing! Tigrin dampened her panic, not understanding where it had come from. She closed her eyes, and it came to her: Rudrani. She didn't want to let anyone down the way she had once been let down. Even if that brash girl bore no grudge, that was no reason to remain a dilettante.
“You managed to come!” a joyful cry rang out, and Tigrin instinctively clutched the stone’s edge with her hand.
Natalia raced down the steps without even noticing her. The girl leaped into a group of kids who had entered the orphanage grounds. Many of them had miniature badges of a straight sword pinned to their collars, and one girl with curled blue hair, a heart-shaped face, dressed in a dark uniform adorned with a star emblem, caught Natalia up and kissed her cheeks. Her skin shone blue, and her eyes were blue as well. Apart from black, only the gold of the emblem and the red of the inner side of her clothes and scarf broke the merging of blue and black.
Otherwise, the stranger was indistinguishable from a Softskin. The hem of her uniform skirt reached high boots, and she held a cap under her arm. The blue-skinned girl made a mournful face, dramatically pressing a hand to her forehead, and Natalia laughed, waving her off. She said something, and the former orphan pushed her hand into the pocket of the apron she wore over jeans and a t-shirt.
The girl’s delighted squeal alarmed the guard and drew more curious children outside. Natalia was fiddling with a packet containing a gold necklace, while another boy handed her a dress in wrapping. The blue-skinned girl, meanwhile, was hugging arrived orphans, and Tigrin noticed something strange. Amiability emanated from the stranger, tinted yellow, but suddenly that little cloud would flare brighter than the sun and her right hand would blur. Inevitably afterward, the younger children pulled chocolate bars from their pockets, loudly exclaiming their amazement.
“Tigrin! Come join us!” Natalia called.
The Malformed leaped down, landing softly, and walked to the group, wiping her paws on her work pants. Freebies were freebies, and she wouldn’t refuse a gift.
“These are my gang from the old orphanage!” Natalia blurted joyfully, introducing the kids. A gray wave of fear came from them, but first the boys, then the girls timidly offered their hands for a shake, maintaining a distance. “And finally…”
“Olcinia Fusca, not an orphan, my parents are very influential,” the blue-skinned girl hastily inserted.
She extended her hand, and Tigrin’s vision was eclipsed by a putrid-green canvas. Olcinia didn’t just hate her; she absolutely despised the Malformed, perceiving her as worse than an accidentally encountered stinking puddle of shit on the road. Not a single muscle twitched on her affable face; her eyes did not narrow.
What could be the reason? Tigrin quickly thought about her appearance. Pale gray pants, a sleeveless t-shirt, her fur washed and brushed. She was covering her fangs with her lips, so what the hell.
She flinched, having not managed to touch the girl’s fingers, which had become blurry. Her right cheek hurt, throbbing slightly, and her head jerked. The outstretched hand returned to normal.
“Tigrin, are you okay?” Natalia asked.
Not the slightest suspicious change in the emotional background. The girl radiated excitement and genuine concern; the others gave off fear or surprise, and only…
“Perhaps she is not accustomed to human customs,” Olcinia said sweetly.
Bitch. Tigrin let out an apologetic mew, not betraying her bubbling fury.
“Tigrin Ka. Very pleased to meet you.”
“Run and get dressed, Ruby,” Olcinia told Natalia. “Your parents will arrive in…”
“An hour,” Tigrin supplied.
“Exactly!” the girl gasped and dashed inside, accompanied by the other kids.
How did she do that? Tigrin wondered, making sure Olcinia walked ahead, talking to another orphan. She half-hugged the boy, promising to help him join something called rugby. Against the general backdrop of emotions, her putrid contempt stood out like a torch. And then it flickered, vanishing.
The negativity directed at Tigrin switched from the location ahead to behind her. She was kicked in the rear and fell, landing on her palms. Olcinia was ahead, but the hem of her skirt twitched.
Not from the wind.
“You fell?!” Natalia, turning from the entrance, started making her way to the Malformed.
“Silly, walking on two legs is more convenient than on all fours,” Olcinia giggled.
Tigrin smiled from ear to ear, beaming. Oh, this promised to be very, very interesting. To a certain extent, she missed rivalry. Rudrani had told her about it. Among Softskins, this kind of behavior was called bullying, and her friend recommended immediately turning to an adult.
But that would only make things duller.
“Decided to shake off the old ways, pay it no mind. Meow,” Tigrin squeaked. She slipped into the group, drawing laughter with her ugly squeak, and lifted her short-furred tail high.
The Malformed deliberately rubbed against Olcinia’s boot, who was rigid with anger, and the latter squeezed out something resembling a joke. What else can you do? Give me more hints about your secret, and we’ll play. She was certain the two-faced bitch was an Abnormal with a power. The only question was what ability had been used. Teleportation didn’t explain the movement of the fabric.
The children entered the building, and Tigrin climbed back onto the ladder, keeping an eye on the camera lens. If she was not mistaken, and she was not as reckless as the shortsighted Virsavia or as naïve as Drax, then it wasn’t over yet. Whistling, she took the rag and resumed cleaning. The security camera turned to the right, no longer filming her.
The contempt evaporated from the corridor. It bloomed below, and the ladder shook, sending Tigrin falling straight into the bushes. She did not panic, calmly recalling the soft green covering. Her red-green eyes fixed on the entrance, missing nothing. There! A shadow flickered, arcing inward with incredible speed. Not teleportation. Super speed.
Likely faster than a bullet. Worse than expected. It didn’t matter; the harder, the more fun. Good thing Virsavia hadn’t run into this whore. Tigrin curled up, preparing to land in the tangle of branches and twist free, slipping onto the lawn from the falling ladder and bucket of dirty water. She hiccupped, feeling hands catch her under her shoulder blades and knees.
Instead of falling, she soared upward, rising above the third floor and gently descending, finding herself in the arms of a strange being. The one holding her appeared humanoid, but steel covered his body, his eyes glowing with a soft blue light, and a moment later she understood they were lenses. He was bald, dressed in a jacket marked with a police badge. The material of his clothing, which crumpled freely with movement, proved to be the same blue steel as his skin. Two wings folded behind his back, stylized like a bird’s down to the last feather. The uninvited rescuer stood on one leg, balancing the unspilled bucket on his raised foot.
“Caught in an earthquake, lady?” he asked cheerfully.
Not a single perceptible thought. When his neck moved, tiny motors whispered, inaudible to Softskin hearing. His voice was low, slightly hoarse, as if from strained vocal cords. Not unpleasant. He wasn’t human or Abnormal.
“Decided to defy gravity. Gravity won.” Tigrin grinned.
“A very common outcome. The sky belongs to the birds. Cats can’t fly. If you ever want to see the clouds, just ask.”
“Flirting without even introducing yourself? Kidding, kidding. I’ll hold you to your offer…”
“Tigrin!” Varia rushed over to them.
The distraught caregiver listened to the lie about an accidental fall, fretting that she needed to find and scold the janitor for such carelessness. Varia was very upset by the incident, and the Malformed had difficulty persuading her not to raise a fuss. As if by chance, Olcinia walked through the corridor, and her smile shifted to thoughtfulness at the sight of the tin can holding his hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have left you…”
“Oh, stop worrying. I’ve dived into bushes before and didn’t drown. You pulled me out by the scruff yourself,” Tigrin said.
“Don’t talk like that. You’re not an animal…”
“Didn’t imply otherwise!”
The security cameras had surely caught at least something. By sharing her suspicions and telling them exactly how that blue-skinned wretch’s power worked, she could probably get her into trouble. The chances would triple if she called in the social worker. He knew every tricks. But today was Natalia’s day, and the others’. No need to darken it. Tigrin thought about her claws and a way to slash the bully’s face. Maybe gouge out an eye or both, after luring her into the bathroom.
Alas, that would be overkill and would definitely spoil the day. Never mind, I know how to beat you, you goddamn drowner. Tigrin clasped her paws behind her back, rose onto her tiptoes, and stretched out her arms, creating the image of an innocent simpleton.
“How about introducing me to the shining knight who saved the foolish kitten?”
Olcinia gave off a spike of irritation at the lack of reaction. Excellent, she was just laughably careless in her inability to hide information. Tigrin cooled her ardor, reminding herself how deftly the bully had timed her dash to go unnoticed by the security camera. Opponents are underestimated by brave fools like Drax… or morons like herself. Pierre had taught her a valuable lesson in caution.
All the tools for victory were already here. The main thing was not to blunder.
“This is Prescott Tram. He is exactly the surprise I was cooking today,” Varia said, somewhat upset.
“Consider the idea a success. He surprised me to goosebumps.”
At last, the woman chuckled, and mirth broke through the veil of worry. Varia always acted like a mother hen. Tigrin didn’t mind, unlike most of the orphans, but she preferred the adult happy. It suited the woman.
“Can it be that my radiance is so dazzling? I probably overdid the preening before the visit today; should have used less gel.” Prescott ruffled her hair.
“Hey, use whatever lube you like if it helps you beat air friction, glowbug.”
“Tigrin!” Varia exclaimed.
“You thought of the indecent thing, not me!”
“A proper girl doesn’t use nicknames!”
“I’m making my humble contribution to keeping Iterna’s flame alight, so you probably should call me a spark,” Prescott interjected.
“Nah. That implies you could fizzle out any moment. Where did you come from?” Tigrin asked, curiosity ignited.
Prescott pointed at a defensive fortress moving high in the sky. “My kin and I are Virtual Personalities in service of the state. Together we are the ‘Archangel Unit’, providing support to the police.”
“So that’s why the height and the wings! From above you can see any problems. You must be constantly busy.”
“Not even close. We’re called in via communications. Our vision is better than an ordinary citizen’s, but not that much. The wings are decorative; the thrusters are installed all over my frame. Given the calm situation, we mostly train in simulations and take part in charity work. Today I was appointed as the esteemed ambassador from the machines to the people.”
“You’ll be giving a speech.”
“Yes, and taking anyone daring for a flight.” Prescott smiled. “Usually people are wary of us, given what’s happened in the past. When you grow up, think about joining the aerial guard. It’s fun up there.”
“Let’s not agitate children into joining the army from an early age,” Varia interjected.
“I didn’t mean to be impolite. As compensation, I’ll put on a fireworks display for the kids.”
“After the lecture on unity.”
“After the lecture,” Prescott promised.
Tigrin had a ton more questions about the Archangels and their connection to Artificer or Lada, but first she intended to repay the debt. Catching a moment when Prescott and Varia were deep in conversation, Tigrin went over to the fallen ladder, hooking the bucket with her tail. Instead of a loud clang of metal on stone, she gently lowered it onto its side, spilling the water and concentrating on the disgust sensation. Through the window she could see Olcinia chatting with the kids in the corridor.
Pretending to grunt, she righted the ladder, and at that moment the putrid blot shifted. Tigrin darted aside, moving as fast as she could. She tried to look like a clumsy fool who had nearly dropped the ladder. Like lightning, a body flew past her, slipping on the spilled puddle and stumbling over the raised ladder’s leg. With a cry, Olcinia tumbled into the bushes, while inside the building the kids looked around, not understanding where their acquaintance had vanished.
“How did you end up there?!” Varia ran to the edge of the landing. Prescott’s head whipped to the left.
“Oh! That was probably my fault!” Tigrin pressed her palms to her mouth, releasing the ladder. The blue-skinned girl swore, twisting aside to dodge the falling object. “She must have seen I was struggling to free the stuck ladder and accidentally tripped over the bucket. I’m so sorry. Let me help!” She extended a furry paw, stifling the triumphant laugh bursting to escape.
“I’ll climb out myself. Should’ve watched my step,” Olcinia puffed. With difficulty, she set her foot on the ground, refusing Varia’s help, and clambered free, pulling after her several broken branches that had yanked the scarf from her neck.
Tigrin waited until the bitch had dusted herself off, adjusted her clothes, regained her composed appearance, and took the first step up the stairs before saying sweetly: “You had a cap, I think. Need help…”
“No.” Olcinia ground her teeth, got on all fours in front of the bushes, and crawled inside.
Tigrin narrowed her eyes, watching her. Undoubtedly, this promised to be interesting. She needed to warn Virsavia and keep her ears sharp. She’d started to forget basic survival skills. Now she had a perfect subject to hone them on again.