Mirror: Chapter 14

Sarah's hand clamped Arez's neck, and she pinned him to the bed, after lifting his body into the air and slamming him down. He cussed, punched, and kicked to get free, but her cyborg body surpassed human strength multiple upgrades ago.

"Baby, please, let's not fight. But you and I both know this breakup has been a long time in the making."

In her free hand was a canister, and she up-ended it over him. An acidic-sweet scent filled the room, giving Arez a momentary high. He locked eyes with her.

"Don't you crazy bitch, don't you dare!"

"You know what I hate about this body?" she swished the near-empty canister around before tossing it over her shoulder, "I mean, it's great and all--strong, flexible, sexy--it has all the things needed for a real good time. You said so yourself."

After a shrug, she winked then jabbed. The tiny motion rocked the bed. Blood splattered from Arez's mouth, and his attitude became docile as he covered his face.

She straddled him with each of her knees jammed deep into his biceps. Immediately, purple bruises spread from them, and he whimpered.

"Seriously? That's it? After all the hair-pulling, and spanking and," she imitated his voice, "suck-n-fuck," then she spat on him, "you get in one tiny little life-and-death situation, and you turn into a quivering mess."

She slapped him twice, and his head twisted in each direction. Blood splattered the pillow on either side of his cheek.

"You call yourself a man? C'mon, fight a little! Anyway, what was I saying? What I hate about this body is everything feels numb. I can't get off without a lot of sensation, gentleness doesn't work. One of the reasons I liked you."

She held up a finger to draw his attention. From behind her, she held up a lighter.

Arez shrieked.

"It's over, baby. I met someone else."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Her thumb froze on the striker, and she blinked. It was Arez's face, but someone was wearing him like a mask.

"Nova?"

She climbed off, and he stood up, oblivious to the suffering the body endured. He took the lighter from her hand and snapped it shut.

"Your brother has formed a motorball team with Alita. I want you to form one with your new employees and disrupt them."

"Alita? Do you like her?"

"She is fascinating to me, and I have plans for her."

"I can be the only girl you need."

Nova held up his hand, "Do not presume, I find it disgusting."

No, of course. This man dominates minds like they are a suit to try on, exuding dignity and poetry. Me? I'm a doll playing dress up. I have to earn my place with him, I will earn it.

"You mentioned employees?"

"You'll be taking over Arez's operation for a little while. Form a team with his crew and join the league. Don't worry about the transfer of power, I already arranged for it."

Nova lifted the lighter and clicked it. Sarah's eyes kept flicking between the fire and Nova's face. Arez's body slowly burned.
"And I sent you a gift, put it to good use."

---

"Hugo!"

Once again, Alita was dangling from the Damascus Blade, stabbed into the conduit to Zalem, high over the scrapyard. He weighed so much, and her grip struggled to keep ahold of him.

His EEMR arm began to separate at the elbow, and she could feel its connective tubing tearing. It was like the tube ran a direct connection to her heart, threatening to tear it out each time he slipped.

"Why didn't you save me?"

When she looked down at his face, wires wiggled out of his eyes and mouth like a mess of maggots. His fingers were a collection of snakes, created from a collection of human muscle, bone, and rubber medical tubes. They coiled around her wrist and up to her shoulder, trapping her.

The junkyard below stitched itself together into a Frankenstein snake of refuse. The amalgamation of cybernetic waste writhed to snatch Hugo, joining with him at his missing waist, enveloping him into the mindless body of grasping instinct.

"Hugo! Please! I didn't want to let go!"

When she looked down, the Mirrored Racer's mask replaced Hugo's face.

The scrapyard monster yanked on her, and the sword blade snapped.

Alita's eyes fluttered open, and she rose into a sitting position. The dark ocean blue of the night lethargically receded from the warm pinks and reds of the firey morning sun.

After a moment she touched her face, to reassure herself, then she yanked it away. It was freezing.

"Good morning, father," she said, sitting on the surgical table.

"Good morning, Alita," Ido beamed, "You're up early. Is everything all right?"

"Can you do a synchronicity check on me?"

The test itself was painless, and she felt silly expecting a stabbing sensation.

Ninety-nine percent. She couldn't help but smile at the coincidence.

It was just a bad dream, after all. But what does it mean? Why that dream again, today of all days?

She bit her lip falling into self-reflection.

With Hugo, her love was the junction of two raging infernos, and it threatened to spill out of her. It forced her to move to keep from being overwhelmed by it. When Hugo was nearly killed, and she attacked in revenge, she discovered her plasma could extend over the Damascus Blade because of that feeling. The stronger her emotions, the stronger the plasma.

Whatever inferno Hugo had left her with dimmed with loneliness.

Now? She didn't want to use her plasma manipulation at all. At first, it was to handicap herself during a motorball match and extend her distraction. Otherwise, the match was over too quickly. Then, she realized Adem had a tragedy with fire, so she kept it hidden out of consideration.

Looking up, Alita realized her feet had brought her absentmindedly to the Motorball arena.

Well, I won't be late this time. But what's different now?

After tossing down her duffle bag, she pulled out her rollers and swapped her mechanical feet.

I want to reignite, she admitted to herself, ever since we raced.

She had a fire again, a deeper one she kept smothered. It was smaller but brighter, and her thoughts sometimes carbonized like charcoal. This new purified fuel burned hot.

"That boy moves like water, now," Coach commented, grunting in satisfaction.

"Yes, he does," Alita agreed, her eyes following him on the practice track.

He didn't sway like a dead stalk, but he cut smooth. He used his momentum and leaned into it, unlike herself who cut with a kick.

As he passed by the safety glass they watched him from, she could even hear the difference. Instead of a whipping noise, one she would make on a cut, he made a deep rumble, like a surging wave. Every movement he made before a turn added up into the sum of his expression, and he kept his eyes forward to see everything.

"Should I tell him?" she murmured to herself.

"No love confessions before the match, kid."

Alita covered her face. Before Coach could tease her any more, she coasted onto the track, and he rolled up to her.

"Ready for tomorrow?" he breathed, sweat rolling off his forehead. Then he smiled, "I hope you can keep up with me."

She put her hand on her hip and popped it out, "You don't actually believe this team captain is going to fall behind an intermediate ranked newbie, do you?"