by C. J. Hill
Sheridan backed up. Her gaze ricocheted between the guards. “Real physicists don’t deal in absolutes. Reilly should know that.”
The Tough One raised his laser box. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Don’t,” Tariq said. “Reilly wants her conscious for this.”
The Tough One lowered his laser box and clipped it back onto his belt. “Fine. I can do it that way.” He walked forward, flexing his hand into a fist as he smiled at her. He wanted her to fight back, she realized. He was looking forward to forcing her into cuffs.
Sheridan took two more steps backward until her heel hit the glass wall that divided the room in two. She was trapped. Her mind whirled, searching for some way to stop this from happening. She couldn’t bluff her way through QGP schematics. If she even attempted it, they would realize she had no idea what any of it meant. And this might be another virtual reality program. She’d woken up in this room and she hadn’t eaten since then. “Raise your arms,” The Tough One snapped.
She didn’t. Her gaze went to Tariq. If she were to bolt, would he shoot her? But even if he didn’t, the woman would. She had a laser box out now too.
“Raise your arms,” The Tough One barked out again.
Sheridan knew he meant out in front of her, but she raised her hands over her head. She was giving herself time to think, weighing her options.
“Dirty viker.” The Tough One swung one of the cuffs at her, aiming to strike her across the face.
She turned her head and dodged the blow, which only made him angrier. He let out another string of names and swung his fist at her, full force. It was done in anger and without much thought. Either that, or he’d forgotten the glass wall stood behind her. She sidestepped the blow and The Tough One’s hand collided into the wall with a loud smack, a noise that indicated several of his knuckles had cracked. The wall didn’t even vibrate from the impact.
The Tough One yelled and shook his hand as though trying to dislodge it from his body. Even through his darkened visor, Sheridan could see the rage in his eyes. He was going to do something horrible to her.
She darted around him and ran toward the door.
Tariq stepped in her way and raised his laser box. His face was calm, his movements precise. She only had time to gasp before he fired.
The shot went over her shoulder. She heard the thump behind her and turned to see The Tough One stiffen and topple to the floor. She automatically looked for the woman guard but didn’t see her. And then Sheridan noticed her sprawled out on the floor, eyes staring vacantly upward. Tariq must have shot her while The Tough One was practicing his boxing skills.
Tariq took hold of Sheridan’s hand and without a word pulled her from the room. No one else was in the hallway. It loomed like a silver tunnel in front of them. Tariq broke into a run, still holding on to Sheridan. Their footsteps clanked noisily on the floor.
So this was another VR program, another escape that wouldn’t lead her anywhere. At least, it probably was. There was always a chance—wasn’t there?—that it could be real this time.
Stupid hope. It wouldn’t leave her alone. She began looking for clues, for details that would give away the false reality.
“Where—”
“Shhh,” Tariq told her. “Don’t speak yet.” They’d reached an intersection in the hallway. Tariq slowed to a walk in case any other guards saw them. A metal cart hummed down the center of the corridor, self-propelled, but no guards were around. Tariq pulled her into that hallway. They ran down it, their footsteps clattering in the silence. All around her, her reflection wavered. She was a blurred form in tan overalls next to a black shadow.
They passed by doors. She waited for an Enforcer to open one of them and step out to see why they were running. She didn’t slow down though, didn’t suggest it. She wanted to get out of this place.
Tariq came to a stop in front of a door. He put his crystal to a panel, and the door slid open. Instead of an exit it was another prison room, nearly identical to her own. Small, dim, and hopeless. He pulled her into the room. She turned around, taking it in. Why had he brought her here? It wasn’t as though she could hide. As soon as someone tracked her crystal, they would find her here.
Tariq stood with his hands on his hips, catching his breath. He took his helmet off and tossed it onto the bed.
“This is where I’m escaping to?” she asked. “Another cell? I hate to point this out, but it’s not much of an improvement.”
“No one will look for us for a few minutes, and I need to talk to you.”
Oh, they were talking first. That was different. “Okay,” she said.
Instead of talking, he paced back and forth, thinking, clearly agitated. She kept glancing at the door, waiting for it to open. Listening for footsteps hurrying by.
“Was there something in particular you’d like to say?” she prompted.
“I care about you, Sheridan. I really do.”
“That’s sweet, Tariq. But can you get me out of the building now? I think escaping would be easier that way.”
He stopped pacing and faced her. “Why won’t you trust me?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. If he could pretend the other virtual reality programs hadn’t happened, so could she.
He held a hand out to her as though showing her something. “You won’t tell me anything about the QGP. You won’t cooperate at all.”
“I thought I was supposed to tell the DW about the QGP. Why do you need to know about it?” She tried to make it sound like a real question, but it came out as an accusation.
She expected him to say something about how the DW needed proof that she could work it.
Instead he stared at her, aggravation making his lips thin into tight lines. “Reilly isn’t a patient man. You should know that by now.”
“How do you know anything about Reilly?”
Tariq took hold of her shoulders. His dark eyes turned pleading. “Listen to me. You could have everything you ever wanted, everything we ever wanted. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She tried to step away from him. His grip was too firm. He pulled her forward so that she had to look at him. “Do you want to stay in the detention center? Do you want a memory wash? You could have freedom. Just say you want it.”
Freedom. She did want it. She wanted it so badly, she nearly forgot she couldn’t give Reilly what he wanted anyway. She opened her mouth. No sound came out.
“Just say it,” Tariq urged, “and everything will be all right. I’ll make sure everything is all right.”
She needed to fight him, to end this feeling of vulnerability encircling her. Because part of her wanted to throw herself on Tariq’s mercy and hope for the best. That part was growing more insistent with every second that passed. “You’re working for Reilly,” she said. “You always have been.”
There. She had told him. Now he couldn’t pretend he cared about her anymore.
Tariq didn’t deny the claim, didn’t even flinch at it. His eyes held the same warmth they always had. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Sheridan. I do. I want to help you. We’ve both been playing games. It’s time we start trusting each other.” His hands slid from her shoulders and he took hold of her hands. His fingers felt strong against hers, comforting. “Can you do that?” he asked. “Can you show me I have your trust? I promise I’ll help you get out of here if you’ll promise to tell me the truth.”
Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. The word repeated in Sheridan’s mind, growing louder each moment. If Tariq knew the truth—that it was Taylor who had the information he wanted—would he still offer his help? And if he did, could she be happy, tucked away somewhere under Tariq’s protection? Could she be with him, knowing he worked for Reilly, knowing he wanted to complete a weapon that would kill so many people?
Her gaze drifted to Tariq’s chest. He took her chin and lifted her face. “I love you, Sheridan. You believe that, don’t you?”
Could he? But even if he did, he wou
ld still use Sheridan to try to get to Taylor, wherever she was. Sheridan couldn’t let that happen, and yet this was perhaps her only chance for freedom—trusting Tariq.
A voice in her mind said, Why shouldn’t you turn this whole mess back over to Taylor? Taylor was responsible for this problem. She was the one who had invented the QGP. Why shouldn’t she be the one who dealt with the consequences?
Sheridan had been here so long—she was so tired, so broken—and all the while Taylor was probably off someplace flirting with Echo.
Tariq ran his thumb across her cheek. “Sheridan?”
She shut her eyes, imagined freedom, thought about what it would be like to wake up without being afraid. The thought didn’t make her happy. When she had told Reilly she’d invented the QGP, she had lied not only to save Taylor, but to save people from the weapon. How could she live with herself if her freedom caused their deaths? Which was worse: waking up with fear or with guilt?
Sheridan took a step away from Tariq. “You want me to tell you the truth—I will. The truth is I’m not . . .” She swallowed hard, took a deep breath. “I’m not someone who’ll help Reilly kill people.” She kept her gaze on Tariq, asking him to understand. “If you’re that type of person, I don’t want to be with you.”
The warmth in Tariq’s eyes immediately drained away, leaving them hard and cold. The change was so sudden and so complete that she couldn’t draw her attention away from his face. She didn’t see that Tariq had pulled out his laser box until he pointed it at her. “Good-bye then,” he said, and shot her.
Chapter 33
Joseph reached for his laser box, knowing as he did how grim the situation was. Ren and Lee had already dropped the silver Enforcer to the ground and pulled out their laser boxes. Lee, Joseph could see from the corner of his eye, had pressed the comlink jammer to keep the new Enforcer from pushing her alarm button.
But it didn’t matter that they outnumbered the new Enforcer. She wasn’t giving them a target to shoot at. She dropped to her knees and held both hands straight, leaving no gap at her joints. And she already had her laser box pointed in Joseph’s direction. Not only would he be shot again, but if she yelled for other Enforcers, the group would be surrounded. Even if Joseph used his laser disabler, they’d still never make it through so many Enforcers, so many security devices.
Ren shot, but not his laser box. He used his zip-line shooter. The cord zinged across the hallway and attached to the Enforcer’s laser box. Ren immediately reversed the line, and the box flew out of the Enforcer’s hands, back across the hallway to Ren.
Joseph expected the woman to call for help. Instead her gaze zeroed in on him. “Joseph?”
“Yes?” he replied, shocked she knew his real name.
She slowly stood. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Her voice was low and irritated. “I wouldn’t have known at all if I hadn’t seen Echo’s stats just come in.”
Joseph stared at her. “You are . . .”
“Patience,” she said. Their DW contact. She had found them.
Relief poured over Joseph. Their chances of rescuing Sheridan had just gotten a lot better.
As Patience walked over to them, Joseph saw her features better. She was a tall woman with dark hair and skin. Black marks swirled across her face. She bent down to grab hold of the silver Enforcer. “Let’s put them in that room.” She gestured toward a door in the hallway. “Use his crystal to open it.”
While Joseph and Patience picked up the silver Enforcer, Ren and Lee took hold of the other. They quickly dragged the men over to the room. “Patience,” Lee muttered. “I can’t believe neither of us could remember Patience.”
“It’s not surprising,” Ren said. “We’ve never been good at patience.”
Joseph held up the silver Enforcer’s crystal to the door panel. It slid open. “You can help us free Sheridan?” he asked Patience.
She nodded. “I’ll take you to the high-security wing.”
When they were through dragging the men into the cell, Ren gave Patience her laser box back. Lee took the comlinks of the unconscious Enforcers. That way even after they woke up from the stun, they wouldn’t be able to call for help.
Joseph put the fake cuffs back on, and the group walked through one hallway and then another. No one gave them more than a passing glance. New prisoners were brought in every day. It was all routine.
When they came to the high-security wing, Ren got out his lock disabler. Patience waved it away and used her crystal to open the door. “It’s better not to take chances you’ll set off an alarm,” she said as the group continued on its way.
“Will you get into trouble for opening the door?” Joseph asked. The door would record whose crystal had opened it.
She shook her head. “I’ll stun myself after you leave. That way it will look like you used my crystal.”
“You’re sure there aren’t cameras anywhere in the hallways?” Ren asked, scanning the area where the wall met the ceiling.
She shook her head again. “It would be too easy for some undercover reformer to splice it to a public feed. The warden doesn’t want the public to know what happens here.”
The words made Joseph’s stomach lurch. He automatically walked faster. What had they done to Sheridan? What would she be like when he reached her?
Joseph didn’t expect her to forgive him when she found out what he’d done. It was his fault she’d been through all this. He deserved her anger, just as he deserved Taylor’s. But he hoped with every footstep he took that she wouldn’t be hurt too badly, that anything wrong could be fixed.
Finally, the group stopped in front of a cell. Joseph had to keep himself from shouting out Sheridan’s name. He wanted her to know they had come to rescue her, that everything would be all right now.
Patience opened the door. He looked around the room, then looked around the room again. It was empty.
“Where is she?” Joseph asked.
“It’s the wrong room,” Ren said.
Patience put her crystal to a screen by the door. It brought up notes on Sheridan: when she last was given food, the time she was logged out of her cell. She’d been taken to an interrogation in observation room six. He hadn’t finished reading through the list when Patience moved her hand away and the notes disappeared.
“Tariq took her early,” Patience said. “She’s being prepped for a memory wash right now.”
Joseph felt the blood draining from his face. Patience had to be wrong. “No,” he said. “That wasn’t supposed to happen until tonight.”
“Yes, well, sometimes those schedules get moved up.”
Joseph turned away from the cell. “We need to find her.”
“Are we too late?” Lee asked.
“No,” Patience said, thinking. “But this will make things harder.” She eyed Joseph. “I’ll get you an Enforcer suit and some weapons you can use on armor. You’re about to become a guard.”
Chapter 34
Echo scowled at his scanner. One Dakine member arriving at this building could be a coincidence; two Dakine members from his old base definitely wasn’t. “Call your contact,” he told Taylor. “See if they have someone close by who can pick us up on the street.”
Taylor had messaged Joseph asking for an update. He’d answered with three words. Busy. Destroy QGPs.
Taylor hesitated, fidgeted with her comlink.
“We don’t have a choice anymore,” Echo told her. “We need help.”
“My contact won’t know who I am,” Taylor pointed out. She’d already told Echo that Joseph had changed the contact when he changed timestreams.
“Convince him,” Echo said. He didn’t say more because his comlink beeped. Video feed of Allana appeared on the screen. She was calling from the computer in their last room. “Allana’s back,” he told Taylor.
Taylor tapped in a number, then held up her comlink so that it could get a picture stream of her face. She smiled into it. “Ete sen, Mendez; it’s me, Taylor. Do you
know who I am?”
A small gruff voice from her comlink said, “Of course I know who you are—you just told me your name was Taylor. Should I know you for some other reason?”
Echo checked his scanner to make sure Allana was alone, then answered her video call with directions to the room. It was possible someone had recognized Allana and called the Dakine to report her whereabouts. They could be closing in on her. Then again, it was also possible she’d done something stupid to alert them where she was.
Echo stood up to go out in the hallway. “Be ready to leave quickly,” he told Taylor.
She fluttered her fingers at him to show she’d heard but was busy talking into her comlink. “Maybe you’ll want to know me after you know what I’ve done. I’ve just been at the Scicenter working on the QGPs and giving the rank program a virus. Rank is about to go down in a big way. Then I made a dramatic exit from the courthouse. You might have heard about that from the newsfeeds. Are you interested now?”
Echo went out the door and didn’t hear the rest. He stood in the hallway watching his scanner until Allana strode up. She had changed into a tight miniskirt and a shirt made of lace and ruffles. She’d also spent time on her hair. It flowed down her back in curly waves. That had always been his favorite style.
She carried a bag of clothes looped around one wrist. “Why did you switch rooms?” she asked, and then added, “Where’s Taylor?”
“She’s inside.” He opened the door and tossed the bag of clothes to the couch where Taylor sat, then pushed the door panel to close the door.
Allana looked into the room to get a glimpse of Taylor. “Why did you change rooms?” she asked again.
He checked the scanner. All the signals he’d been keeping track of had stopped moving. They were stationed around the building’s three exits. “We changed rooms in case you told the Dakine where we were and they decided to come by for a visit.”
She didn’t flinch at that accusation. Instead she just raised an eyebrow in vague amusement. “You have my comlink,” she pointed out.
“You’re resourceful.”
