of all the people who were now crowding around the police line.
That would have been quite a surprise for the good people of Manhattan.
“Hey, hey,” said a voice. Rad opened his eyes and found a scowling policeman clicking his fingers in his face. Rad flinched, each snap like being hit on the back of the head with a rubber mallet.
The officer backed away, and one of his colleagues leaned in for a pow-wow.
“Are they drunk?”
“Or worse.”
“Call said they’d just appeared out of thin air.”
“Call also said my mother is the Queen of England. Come on.”
Rad opened his eyes. The police reapplied their grip, and he was on his feet.
“And her.”
Rad struggled to stay alert. He watched as more cops tiptoed towards Jennifer, each of them with one hand on his gun. After shaking her gingerly, satisfied that she wasn’t going to leap up and knife them, they holstered their weapons and rolled her over.
“Jesus H Christ!” said the first officer. The second just shook his head, and put his hands on his hips. Then he shook his head again and waved over the scowling cop.
“What the hell?”
The scowling cop reached for Jennifer, but then Jennifer moved. In one quick motion she was on her feet, and she spun around, the long split tail of her winter coat spiraling out around her like a fancy ball gown. She turned, and looked left and right and all around, her golden metal face bright in the lights of Grand Central, her gloved hands out on each side, fingers splayed, ready for a fight.
The cops were fast too, forming a circle, a dozen guns pointed at her, a dozen voices commanding her to stand still, to give up, to lie down, to get down, to not move lady, to freeze right there. The circle moved, expanding outwards, the cops circling, not sure what they were dealing with.
Then Jennifer seemed to see Rad and she stopped turning and moved towards him, causing another round of shouting. The cops holding Rad up dragged him back a step, and then someone took the initiative and tackled Jennifer from behind. She fell with a cry, her metal face connecting with the hard floor with a surprisingly loud and bright sound, and then a cop put his knee in the small of her back and she was handcuffed and Rad passed out.
When Rad woke again he felt better, although his throat was as dry as sandpaper and his nostrils were filled with the scent of old urine and damp concrete. The surface below him was still hard but Rad could feel slats underneath the naked skin of his head. He was on a narrow wooden bench in a small room.
He swung himself over the edge, his head pounding but bearable, mostly. The buzzing behind his eyeballs flared with the sudden movement but quickly reduced to a constant pressure rather than a panic-inducing pain.
Rad looked around. He was in a cell, and he was on his own.
“Rad?”
Rad jerked around at the voice. There was a grill high in the wall behind him. He stood on the bench, which creaked beneath his weight, and looked through.
“Gah!” Rad pulled back and nearly fell off the bench, and then he gripped the edge of the window with his fingers and pulled himself back up. Jennifer’s golden face was six inches from his behind four thick grey metal bars.
“You’re OK,” she said, and there was relief in her voice even if her artificial face was unable to show emotion.
“We’re in New York,” said Rad.
“I noticed.”
Jennifer’s mask tilted a little, quizzical. “Are you feeling OK?”
“Apart from a sore head and a little difficulty breathing, just fine and dandy, thanks. But last I remember that damn fool Carson was shooting at me with the honking big ray gun of yours.”
Jennifer chuckled. “‘Ray gun.’ I like it.”
Rad waved his hand. “Whatever. You’re holding something back on that thing. The only time I saw you use it was when you shot at that silver robot, the one that called itself Elektro. Blew half of it away, as I recall.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Only because I missed. I borrowed the gun from the Empire State Building when everything went crazy.”
“Borrowed?” said Rad.
“Borrowed.”
“Go on,” said Rad.
“It’s the same kind of technology used by Nimrod’s Department here in New York to send agents across the Fissure, but while out in the field. Only modified. Improved.”
Rad frowned. “To be used as a weapon?”
“Kinda,” said Jennifer. “It sends the target through the Fissure,