He scans us, and one by one his eyes stop at each of us. “We will conduct tests daily. It’s easier if you comply with the orders you’re given.” When his eyes fall on me, his brow crinkles. “It’s easier for all of us.”
Dr. Qasim. He brought so many of us to safety, not that anyone knows that. Only our family. He can’t be working for Central like this by choice. His weary eyes, slouching posture, all tell the story of a broken man, physically tortured. No, Central forced him.
When they are done, and the children are allowed to sit down, I stand at the edge of our unit and watch, wait. The lights dim and most of us sleep, but still I stand, waiting, pacing.
Finally, hours later, the shape of a boy walks the rows and, as he passes our unit, he tosses me some rations, whispering, “Only the dead escape. It’s the only way.”
I want to scream, to beg him to let us out. But I push that down, deep below my belly. When I am sure no one is looking, I inspect the ration pods. That’s it? That’s all he’s going to do to help me?
I sit on the floor and let it sink in. Nothing makes sense. No one shows signs of the Fever in the Narrows. Masiji would have told us. Why would Central put us in containment? They hate us, but usually ignore us. There is something bigger going on . . . and I have to figure it out.
If Rao can’t see a way out, I have to find one on my own.
“Here,” I whisper and slip a pod into the hands of the raspy-voiced boy. “Eat.” If he freaks out, it’ll help no one. I’m going to need a team to work together to figure out this nightmare.
He sits up and looks at me with surprise. “Why? Why didn’t you eat it yourself?”
“Not hungry,” I lie.
He takes the pod and splits it into half, handing me a piece. “Share.”
I swallow the dark blue pill fragment that tastes of the sea. I give him another one to save for later.
Tomorrow, I’ll find a way out of this hell.
20 //
Ashiva
Suddenly, there’s a metallic bam, bam on the door. And then, “Tiger?”
That voice. Jai. What the hell does he want? Just when things get to the worst place ever, Jai shows up to increase the annoyance level multiplied by a thousand. He opens the door and enters the room, pushing a hooded person in front of him.
“It doesn’t sound like you are doing anything but wasting my time,” I say and keep working.
Jai takes a few steps closer to me and sits the person wearing a hood down on the ground. They grunt when they hit the floor.
“He’s a techie for Solace Corp, Tiger. He’s worth something to you. You could electrocute him in Central. You could toss him flat into the sea. Whatever you want. It could be a good ol’ show of defiance. A big F-U to Ravindra and Liu.”
“How did you find us anyway?” I look to Ghaazi and Suri, who are busy sorting data on their ancient machines. Jai must be tracking me somehow.
“You have to listen. This could be a great partnership.” He looks up at the others in the room and ask, “Eh, who are the elders?”
I ignore him. “Not interested. I’m not in the kidnapping business. Leave.”
“Oh, don’t be so grand. Smuggling’s okay, but a little kidnapping isn’t? At least take a look at him. He’s an ultra-rich kid. Probably from some big-deal family.”
“You’re a pagal murkh. I should call Khan Zada and tell him he’s interfering with Red Hand-level shit.”
“Okay, look. Just simmer down. He just thought you of all people in the SA would be creative enough to use someone like a techie to your benefit. Maybe trade him for a newborn or something? Maybe he was wrong. Anyway, his words to me were: ‘Jai, take this techie to the Tiger. She needs to smuggle him back into Central to keep him out of trouble.’ In lieu of tithe, he wants you to be a babysitter. Then we’re even. He’s pretty important, so we can’t risk you just dumping him at the gates and leaving him there. He needs an escort to get all the way home. You are going to be his bodyguard, get him tucked in and all, without triggering any suspicions about where he’s been. Not even his people are to be trusted. Make it like he’s never been missing in the first place.”
“Why can’t we just get him through the Liminal Area and then he could walk through Central on his own?”
“This one’s special. He got picked up by the daaku already. He’s smart in Central, but stupid out here. He needs to get through the Liminal, through the gates before they start searching for him. And you owe us. Otherwise, you’ll have to pay with your arm.”
“You’re serious? That just feels like overkill, yaar.” I read Jai like an Info-Run. He’s telling the truth. I know Khan would try it too. Take my arm and all. Leave me without it. I’d fight, but one tiger against a sea of piranhas is as good as minced meat.
I push up against him to make sure he can feel my words. “The Narrows is gone. The Narrows is under assault by Central. The Red Hand is in ruins. You and the Lords of Shadow are done. Get out of my space!”
Jai lifts the boy by his collar and shakes his head.
“Let’s hear him out,” Suri says over her keys. “He could be useful to us right now. He might know how to get inside Solace.”
I roll my eyes at Jai.
“Could be the break we need to find them,” Ghaazi says.
I know they’re right. We’ve got nothing. “Fine,” I say.
“Don’t mess up,” Jai warns. “Khan’s got a temper for you. Get the kid back into Central. No problems. Or else. Okay? I’d hate for something terrible to happen to you.”
He sends me an air kiss.
Which is basically asking for it. I punch Jai in the chest with my cyborg arm and he flies into the wall. But my arm sighs and spins and spurts, and finally lays flat against my body, dead weight. Great idea, using my last bit of power on this jerk.
Breathe in and out.
Whatever.
My mind rushes, but all I want is for him to leave.
“Tiger,” Ghaazi’s voice is soft, “this could be just what we need. The boy could have access to data we don’t. He could lead us to Masiji and your family. Think about it. We could connect to our network again—show the world the truth through the External Hand, across the planet.”
Jai brushes off his shirt, and ego, and waits, coughing, for my reply. “Look, if it were up to me, we’d work together more. I’ve almost paid my debt to Khan. Maybe I can be Red Hand after all.” He sighs and I’ve never seen him so vulnerable before, almost childlike. “I’m just the messenger, Tiger. You and I are more alike than we think.”
Even though I don’t trust them yet, Suri and Ghaazi are right. Everything has value.
If anything, we could use the techie to get what we want and just leave him to fend for himself.
“Right,” I say.
“So, you’ll do it then?” Jai’s voice is hoarse. “You can do whatever necessary to find where they’re keeping the Narrows kids.”
“The way I figure, Khan Zada can’t do it himself because the kid’s wanted or connected. And you need someone who’s actually good at smuggling,” I say.
“Yeah and I should mention one thing, though. If anything goes south, you’re supposed to disappear him.” Jai whispers the last part.
“Wait, what? First you want him delivered with kid gloves, but if it goes wrong, you want us to kill him? I’m no murderer,” I say loudly.
Jai shrugs. “Complicated times, love. Only if things don’t go as planned.” He looks down.
I lift my weak arm and Jai puts his fists in the air, weary. “I won’t hit you again,” I say.
“You really have a short fuse. It’s a wonder you have any friends at all,” he says. He shakes my hand, then he leans down toward the boy and makes like he’s going to rip the disruptor device right from the boy’s chest.
“Hey, no deal unless you leave that right where it is, Jai.”
“Can’t. Property of Khan Zada. He likes to keep track of all his devices.”
“No deal unless he comes with
the noise device.” I cross my arms and the replacement lays heavily across my flesh. “It’ll give us cover.”
“Fine, Tiger.”
The boy moans like he’s sick and mumbles something I can’t make out.
“What’s the matter with him?” I say.
“He’s your problem now,” Jai says as he goes to leave. “And, uh, Tiger? You know, I’d rather work for you if you’d just stop beating on me. The way I see it is that if I’m going to do dirty work, I might as well do it for the benefit of my people. I would, really. Khan’s been on my back. Anyway, think about it. Maybe we can make a deal one day.” He kisses the tips of his fingers and then ducks into the tunnels again.
With one quick motion, I pull off the hood covering the boy’s head.
“Thanks,” the boy says and squints his eyes.
He is just a boy, same height and probably the same age as me. Not an evil agent of Solace Corp. Not a wicked techie about to set up the Narrows for assault. Just a boy. An Uplander boy with perfect skin and eyes as clear as day. He looks a little ill, but ill or not, he’s near perfect, in a scientific way.
“Do me a favor, eh? If you flay me in Central, just send a holo-vid to my parents? They’d hate to see that,” he says.
And a dumb boy at that.
“You think it’s a game?” I ask.
“Isn’t it?” His hands shake. I back up and he crumbles to the ground.
“Suri, what’s happening? Is it the Fever?”
“I don’t think so. The disease begins with a blue rash and then slowly leaves one paralyzed, not shaking. He’s probably just in shock from the whole thing. I bet Jai roughed him up. I think it’s safe to touch him. Let’s put him over there.” She points to the storage bins, and Ghaazi makes a bed for him out of papers and scraps. Suri gives him filtered water and covers him with a shawl. Soon the boy looks to be in some kind of tortured, delirious sleep.
“Poor fellow. He’s had one day down here with the rest of humanity and he’s in shock.” I want to smash something. “I think he’s done for now. We should still use code names, just in case.”
“We should contact a mediport. We’ll need to block his neural-synch if he’s going to be near us,” Suri says.
“I say we leave him in the Liminal Area with a note that says property of Khan Zadabhai and walk away.”
“Tiger . . .” Suri says.
“We don’t have time for this. He has everything in the world and ends up down here.” I go over to the boy and tie his wrists with some wires I find.
The boy says, “I’m sorry.” Then passes out.
“He’s an odd one,” I say. “Okay, we have a pawn. Now what?” I look to Suri.
Ghaazi says, “Yes, we need to find out what he knows.”
I shake my head. “We have to review the file. It’s our only leverage. Open the data packet, Ghaazi. Now.”
“If you say so. But there’s no telling who will track us once it’s downloaded.”
“That’s okay. We’re going to have to leave this place anyway,” I say.
I’m not prepared for what I see. Masiji managed to back up the entire base code for Solace. Version 1.0 pours down the screen and it’s pretty crude, no finesse.
“What’s that? Over there?” Ghaazi points to a portion of text in Masiji’s notes. “Looks like a separate link to a basic note file.”
“It’s from her, from The Mechanic. It’s a message,” Suri says.
Ghaazi opens the file. It’s a basic notation file with a ton of text inside. I don’t understand the details, only the headers, and a few phrases and words stand out, like “override.” But I’m no computer scientist. The language is formal and I can’t make out the implications. This is not my language. But even so, I know it’s all there in her detailed notes, the plans: how the Solace program will function, what types of outreach it can do, limitations to the data, how to sort genetic data points, everything. And I’m eager to know the details.
Ghaazi stands. “No, this is more like a warning.”
“If you can translate her shorthand, please.” I gesture to him, desperate to know the details of what they are reading.
“Something about failsafe systems in place. Who manages them. It’s not very clear, but she writes about the extent to which the Solace system can override.”
“Override what?”
“The human mind. Hmm . . . she was really good at covering her notes. They must’ve been on to her.”
“There’s a problem with the override? What kind of problem?” I think of my plexus, and though it’s wiped and not connected to Solace, it’s still a piece of embedded neural tech.
“It doesn’t say. I’m reading it to you fully, promise,” Ghaazi says.
“When did she leave Solace?”
“As soon as—” Ghaazi begins.
Suri cuts him off, “Maybe we should let her tell you, dear. It’s not our place.”
“But she could . . .” The knot in my throat twists. “. . . she could die in containment before she gets a chance to tell me.”
They exchange knowing looks.
I continue, “It’s not your place to decide what I learn about her either. How can I lead without information? Just give me the best information available. If you know something, you’d better tell me or I’ll leave right now. And I’ll leave the boy with you to figure out his fate. I’m sure Khan will send a goonda to check on his departure.”
Suri says, “We only know what she told us, and she was very vague about the whole thing. We all have complicated pasts, so we never pushed her.”
I flex my arm and think about how it isn’t mine. It never was. I’m just a girl who’s been mended by a brilliant engineer. I need to get it fixed before it stops working altogether.
“Go on.”
“When she met you, you were a very small child, maybe one or two years old. You were undergoing tests for a program they were building. The Uplanders were given a chance to bring their children into Solace Corp to see if they could match the genetics required for the neural-synch. What the parents didn’t know was that they were storing information on the children and testing many other things on them.
Suri continued, “Those that Solace passed were free to live in Central. Their lifespans were going to be great. Their genes were flawless, nearly disease-free. But there were so many who didn’t make it, and Masiji couldn’t live with the idea that she couldn’t fix them too. She developed tests and studies to try to adapt a person to pass the Solace tests. She couldn’t change Solace’s algorithm, but she could change the person. At least she thought she could.
“For some, it worked. Gene editing. But for others, parents were desperate enough to try anything. So, she did. Transfusions, replacements, everything. It was a bloody chop shop. And the children were taken from their families.” She paused and looked at me. “You didn’t fare well. You almost died.”
“My parents were Uplanders?”
“Listen, Tiger. I can’t imagine how strange this all sounds.”
“No, it makes sense.” I’d always wondered. “If my mother didn’t have the Fever . . .”
“The testing went badly, beti. It was not clean,” Suri says. “Masiji lost faith in the work and was ordered to send you away with the rest. She kidnapped you and left. And they’re still running her tests.”
“Did they hunt for her?”
“She faked her death,” Suri says.
“It was all—” Ghaazi starts to say.
I put up my hand. “That’s enough. I’ve heard enough.”
They look relieved. My questions are just beginning to form, but there is only one woman who can actually answer them. And she’s locked away in containment. If Central found out she’s a fugitive, she could already be dead.
“Let’s go then,” I say and help the tech boy up. He’s not fully conscious. I copy the data packet and slip it onto my new liquid disc reader in my wrist. “There’s too much evidence of the past here. We need to burn t
he posters, the fliers, the notes. Wipe the computers, but don’t harm them. They’re too valuable if we need to use them again.”
Once we gather all the posters into a metal bin, Ghaazi splashes some precious oil. I strike a wire against its counter and the spark ignites the fire that consumes the old Red Hand materials.
All the faces of the Rani go up in white hot flames.
I lift the boy as we all hurry along the tunnels.
The Red Hand will be reborn.
21 //
Riz-Ali
It’s like I’m already dead.
She won’t tell me her name or even look at me. I’ve read about this technique in a military studies course at school. I know what she’s doing. The less she cares, the more she ignores my humanity, the easier it will be to do whatever bad thing she’s going to do: attach a bomb to my back and send me into Central. Or like Jai said, flay me.
I’m lying on the hard ground of a broken building, all twisted metal and broken glass. It’s night. The small bonfire lights her face like the moon and I see her scars, her worry. She’s a soldier of some kind. Focusing on whatever she’s doing. There are two elders. Their code names tell me nothing. Though she is young, she seems like their leader. Or at least, she’s the bossiest. Curious.
Or maybe I’m not even here. It’s hard to get a lock on reality. My mind is a flurry of my past life in Central and with Solace, and in this present one. And sometimes it’s difficult to tell which one is which. The one thing I see through the haze and echoes of voices and thoughts, and sickness is Kanwar Uncle sitting on the edge of my bed the last time I saw him, as my heavy eyes fight sleep. I want to leap up from my bed to tell him to not go to work the next day. To force him to stay in our house. Maybe if I was sick or something that would convince him to avoid his own death. Anything. Everything. But I watch as he leaves my room to die in a lab explosion the next day.
I don’t want to be powerless anymore.
The next moment I wake, the sun is about to rise and they are taking me along the streets to what looks like a dark market: Thin people have strange items for sale set out on unsanitary plastic tarps for purchase. Baskets of old tech piled high. I count one, two, three sets of ladders, five food vendors and then I stop counting. Who wants that obsolete junk, I don’t know. When they see us, most cover their things, turn their backs. A few give nods and hand the girl something. I don’t know what scares them, me or my kidnappers. Or maybe it’s both. It might be that my wrists are tied.
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