titanium.
‘Ditto. Now is not the time.’
Ditto glared right back. ‘Not the time? Now we only save lives when you say so? Well if I had known thatI would have stayed home in our palace and had a few beers.’
Stefan ground his teeth. Both in frustration and to stop himself smiling.
‘Ditto, one of these days I’m going to sign you up for kindergarten, so help me. OK, take Mona, get down near ground level. No risks, though. These are not the type of people we generally deal with. These are armed killers. If you can help someone, then help them, but my advice is to tranquillize them first. And wear your fuzz plates; you never know.’
Ditto grinned. ‘Stefan, you’re a sweetheart.’
The Bartoli Baby trotted down a connecting stairwell, sure-footed as a goat. Mona ran after him, swearing in Spanish. They made their way across pipes and down rails until they straddled a cable conduit directly above the assembly line. In the event of a disaster, it would be a simple matter to lay down a bridge to ground level.
Stefan followed their progress through field glasses.
‘They’re safe.’
Cosmo lay beside him on the gantry. ‘Shouldn’t we go down with her… them?’
Stefan kept his eyes on the scene below. A bit of advice, Cosmo. Don’t get too attached to Mona. She is the best Spotter I’ve ever seen, but some day she’ll move on. And to answer your question, we can cover them from here. If they get made, we can create a diversion, draw fire away.’
Cosmo sighed. Drawing fire sounded even more dangerous than everything else they had done so far.
Stefan misinterpreted the sigh. ‘Don’t worry about it, kid,’ he said, rapping Cosmo playfully on the robotix plate. ‘I don’t suppose they teach military tactics at Clarissa Frayne.’
The rap reminded Cosmo that parts of his body were not the originals. How much had changed in a week. New knee, new forehead, new friends, new life. Cosmo gazed down at the hundred armed gang members. New life – for how long?
Ditto balanced easily on the cable conduit. He was a natural gymnast in spite of his size. Maybe you got used to your body when it hadn’t changed in decades.
‘So you like the kid?’ he said in a teasing tone that belied his angelic face. ‘Your little
chico?’
‘Yes. Sure I like Cosmo. He’s a good kid. Learns fast.’
Mona lay flat on the conduit, scanning the crowd below her for Miguel. If she had a chance to save anyone, it would be Miguel. He’d taken her in off the street when a couple of his boys had caught her trying a little
booshka
on a Sweetheart auto. Instead of punishing her, Miguel had put her to work.
Ditto chuckled. ‘He’s a good kid? Come on, Vasquez, it’s me you’re talking to. You’ve been marginally less grumpy since he got here.’
‘Company, OK? It’s nice to have someone my own age around Abracadabra Street.’
Ditto kept on needling. ‘It’s not as if he’s handsome. No hair yet to speak of, and that forehead looks like he’s got a porcupine hiding under there.’
‘Well, at least he’s tall,’ said Mona pointedly.
‘Look who’s getting protective? Do I sense a crack in the Vasquez armour?’
Mona would never admit it to the Bartoli Baby, but in a way he was right. The orphan kid was interesting. He had made quite an entrance into their lives, lying smoking on a rooftop. Then he had gone on to save her life. After that he would have to have the personality of a hungry bear for her not to like him.
‘He’s just a friend. That’s all. Maybe that concept is too
big
for you to understand.’
Ditto grinned, delighted that his needling was having an effect.
‘Oh,
big
jokes now, is it? I may be small, Vasquez, but I have more brains in my undersized head than the rest of the Supernaturalists put together.’
Mona pointed her lightning rod at her pint-sized companion. ‘Stop annoying me, Ditto. Do you think I wouldn’t gumball you? Is that what you think? Because if it is, you’d be
‘Ditto. Now is not the time.’
Ditto glared right back. ‘Not the time? Now we only save lives when you say so? Well if I had known thatI would have stayed home in our palace and had a few beers.’
Stefan ground his teeth. Both in frustration and to stop himself smiling.
‘Ditto, one of these days I’m going to sign you up for kindergarten, so help me. OK, take Mona, get down near ground level. No risks, though. These are not the type of people we generally deal with. These are armed killers. If you can help someone, then help them, but my advice is to tranquillize them first. And wear your fuzz plates; you never know.’
Ditto grinned. ‘Stefan, you’re a sweetheart.’
The Bartoli Baby trotted down a connecting stairwell, sure-footed as a goat. Mona ran after him, swearing in Spanish. They made their way across pipes and down rails until they straddled a cable conduit directly above the assembly line. In the event of a disaster, it would be a simple matter to lay down a bridge to ground level.
Stefan followed their progress through field glasses.
‘They’re safe.’
Cosmo lay beside him on the gantry. ‘Shouldn’t we go down with her… them?’
Stefan kept his eyes on the scene below. A bit of advice, Cosmo. Don’t get too attached to Mona. She is the best Spotter I’ve ever seen, but some day she’ll move on. And to answer your question, we can cover them from here. If they get made, we can create a diversion, draw fire away.’
Cosmo sighed. Drawing fire sounded even more dangerous than everything else they had done so far.
Stefan misinterpreted the sigh. ‘Don’t worry about it, kid,’ he said, rapping Cosmo playfully on the robotix plate. ‘I don’t suppose they teach military tactics at Clarissa Frayne.’
The rap reminded Cosmo that parts of his body were not the originals. How much had changed in a week. New knee, new forehead, new friends, new life. Cosmo gazed down at the hundred armed gang members. New life – for how long?
Ditto balanced easily on the cable conduit. He was a natural gymnast in spite of his size. Maybe you got used to your body when it hadn’t changed in decades.
‘So you like the kid?’ he said in a teasing tone that belied his angelic face. ‘Your little
chico?’
‘Yes. Sure I like Cosmo. He’s a good kid. Learns fast.’
Mona lay flat on the conduit, scanning the crowd below her for Miguel. If she had a chance to save anyone, it would be Miguel. He’d taken her in off the street when a couple of his boys had caught her trying a little
booshka
on a Sweetheart auto. Instead of punishing her, Miguel had put her to work.
Ditto chuckled. ‘He’s a good kid? Come on, Vasquez, it’s me you’re talking to. You’ve been marginally less grumpy since he got here.’
‘Company, OK? It’s nice to have someone my own age around Abracadabra Street.’
Ditto kept on needling. ‘It’s not as if he’s handsome. No hair yet to speak of, and that forehead looks like he’s got a porcupine hiding under there.’
‘Well, at least he’s tall,’ said Mona pointedly.
‘Look who’s getting protective? Do I sense a crack in the Vasquez armour?’
Mona would never admit it to the Bartoli Baby, but in a way he was right. The orphan kid was interesting. He had made quite an entrance into their lives, lying smoking on a rooftop. Then he had gone on to save her life. After that he would have to have the personality of a hungry bear for her not to like him.
‘He’s just a friend. That’s all. Maybe that concept is too
big
for you to understand.’
Ditto grinned, delighted that his needling was having an effect.
‘Oh,
big
jokes now, is it? I may be small, Vasquez, but I have more brains in my undersized head than the rest of the Supernaturalists put together.’
Mona pointed her lightning rod at her pint-sized companion. ‘Stop annoying me, Ditto. Do you think I wouldn’t gumball you? Is that what you think? Because if it is, you’d be
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