Z 2135

by Wright, David W.

  Adam was surprised that he felt so genuinely upset. More upset than when he’d watched it happen. It was different telling Michael the story than it had been telling the Chief. The things that bothered Adam about the story bothered him more with Michael; the things that had made it seem acceptable, were somehow less so at Nips.

  “You can’t tell anyone, Michael, OK? Do you promise?”

  Adam wanted Michael to keep his secret, and make a promise that he would—partly out of fear that Michael might actually say something to someone that could get Fogerty or Carson in trouble, or even worse, him. The last thing Adam wanted was for Chief Keller to be upset with him or think he was an insidious cancer. And Adam had another reason for wanting Michael to stay quiet. He wanted it to seem like he was betraying the Watchers, or at least that he was willing.

  Michael asked exactly that Adam expected: “So, how did that make you feel?”

  “Awful, and it made me wonder about a lot of stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean that things seem different; I don’t really know what to think about City Watch. Stuff I saw in The Quarters, well, it’s opposite of what I always thought about Watchers. They were scary, like bad guys. When I was growing up, my dad was like a hero. His job, as a Watcher, that was the kind of thing you idolize. But now … I don’t know. To see another side of it all—”

  “So what does that mean? Are you having second thoughts about Cadets? About being a Watcher?”

  “I’m not sure,” Adam shrugged, “but I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake in joining. I know it’s better than Chimney Rock, and whatever god-awful job I’d get after my aptitude tests, so maybe that makes it the best place, at least for now. But I’m not sure it’s the best after I’m a grown-up, you know?”

  Michael nodded.

  Of course he did.

  “I just wanted somewhere to belong,” Adam continued, warming to the subject. “I figured I’d follow in Dad’s footsteps. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder why I would want to. I mean, he murdered my mom and broke up our family. He’s the one who got Ana killed.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know.” Adam started to cry, surprising himself with very real tears.

  “Do you really think your dad killed your mom?”

  “Yeah,” Adam nodded, surprised that Michael would ask something so stupid. “That’s what I keep coming back to: if you have to do bad stuff as part of your job, and you have to do those things over and over, maybe it changes you after a while. Makes you crazy murderer bad.”

  “That’s what I used to think,” Michael said. His voice had softened, his compassion seemed real. Something in his whisper seemed to Adam less like him hating City Watch, and more like he wanted to help Adam feel better.

  Michael dropped his whisper so low that Adam strained to hear him. Michael leaned forward. “I don’t know anymore, though. I’m not so sure. Now I think maybe he was set up, just like your sister.”

  That made Adam so angry that he balled both fists beneath the table.

  Not yet, he thought. Instead he asked, “Why do you think my father is innocent?”

  Michael’s eyes were suddenly bothered. He leaned even lower, glanced around every corner of Nips, swept fried greens from the table’s center and hissed.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Yes, of course,” Adam said. He leaned toward Michael, his heart beating fast, certain Michael was seconds from confirming his growing suspicion that he was part of The Underground.

  CHAPTER 30 — JONAH LOVECRAFT

  Jonah left Clinic 17 feeling … uncertain. Liza was amazing, and seeing her was electric. It wasn’t physical, at least not mostly. It was that looking into Liza’s eyes gave Jonah part of his soul back. Sutherland had filled him with an odd sort of hope, but Liza reminded him of who he was, back when Jonah was willing to stare into the eyes of his hunger.

  He had no idea how he would engage Adam, or if he would even be able to find him at all, but he had hours until Liza was free, and figured he would know the right plan as he found it. He was about to head off on foot, rather than his mobile, which might stand out more near the Academy, when Jonah spotted Ballard—or Balrog as Watchers preferred to called him—on foot patrol.

  Like everyone, Jonah hated Balrog because he was a miserable pile of shit, not to mention a marginal Watcher. A run-in with Balrog was certain to end poorly, so Jonah kept walking straight instead of turning, figuring he’d walk a mile then double back and get the mobile after all.

  Despite his anxiety, Jonah smiled while passing a fortune-teller working the street, amused as always that people were willing to surrender credits so a woman in rags could tell them obvious nothings. No fortune-teller could have ever predicted the things that had happened to Jonah.

  He walked two more blocks when Jonah heard the whir behind him. He couldn’t afford to freeze; the orb would know because they were programmed for such behavior. If his gait made a hiccup, he would be scanned. The only thing that had kept it from happening so far was Jonah’s intimate understanding of what data orbs gathered before alerting the nearest Watcher.

  He must have had a twitch in his movement, though, something that held the orb at his back for a full block before it hovered in a wide circle around him.

  “Citizen, please extend your wrist.”

  Jonah held his wrist up like he wasn’t terrified.

  The orb scanned his wrist, then turned silent. After four painful seconds it said, “Thank you,” then drifted away.

  Jonah kept walking. He wanted to hurry but was forced into strolling. He had no idea where the orb was. It could be behind him, high up in a place he couldn’t see without looking. And looking, Jonah knew, would certainly broadcast his guilt.

  He couldn’t be sure, but Jonah would bet his disguise that Balrog had kept walking when he did, and was now a block behind him. Jonah saw the man out of the corner of his eye as he cut across the street and stepped inside Bakery 4. Jonah waited in line for five minutes, subtracted two credits from his wrist for a baguette (Marquis had loaded it with a hundred) and stepped back into the street.

  Sure enough he saw Balrog one block up, but Balrog’s eyes weren’t on the bakery, or anywhere near Jonah.

  He looked both ways and crossed. Balrog’s face was still turned away from him, and Jonah no longer felt the orb. Maybe everything would be OK, but he had to run.

  He set the baguette on the ground, then ran toward the alley and ducked into the dark. As soon as he did Jonah felt the man behind him.

  “Don’t move,” the Watcher said. “Hands on your head.”

  Episode 5

  CHAPTER 31 — ADAM LOVECRAFT

  The arcade’s noises—people laughing, yelling, and talking, all crashing against the bleeps and bloops from music, games, and aimless entertainment blaring out from the background—waged war with Adam’s attention as he hung on Michael’s every word.

  Adam said that he could keep a secret, and now was leaning across the table—heart pounding—dying to know what Michael was about to say, already picturing himself back in the Chief’s office, ready to report whatever Michael was about to tell him.

  The Chief would be so proud of Adam.

  His lips parted, but then Michael closed his mouth and leaned back against the table instead. “I think we should go somewhere private first.”

  “Where?” Adam looked around Nips. It seemed like everyone was busy talking or playing. It seemed safer to talk among the crowd, where no one was paying attention, than out in the open where an orb could sneak up above them at any time. As Adam learned in the Academy, orbs didn’t even need to be that close to see, hear, and record you.

  “Anywhere but the arcade,” Michael said. “Come on, let’s go.”

  They left Nips. Outside, Michael walked the main boulevard, avoiding wall screens broadcasting the latest Games — Brian Handler was the momentary favorite for City 6, arrested for beating a man to death after the ma
n accosted his wife. Brian was in the game’s final stretch, on his way to the Mesa for a toe-to-toe with a City 4 serial killer, Bridgette Phillips—the “Black Widow” they called her—from its own Dark Quarters.

  Adam followed, scouting the sky for orbs, but not yet seeing any. After about a block, Michael started talking. “I used to be just like you. Did you know that?”

  No, he didn’t—and wasn’t sure what Michael meant. Grown-ups had been saying they were once “just like him” forever—it was a way of getting Adam to lower his guard and trust them. He understood this, always had, but didn’t like it when people said things that weren’t true just to make him think better of them. Adam didn’t mind when the Chief said he was a little like Adam, because Adam could see that. Plus, what the Chief really meant was that maybe Adam was a little like his son, who the Chief would never ever get to see again, so even if it wasn’t true, at least it was easy to understand. That made it OK.

  But Michael hated The State, and Adam didn’t think he and Michael were similar at all.

  “How do you mean?” Adam asked as they turned off the boulevard and began walking down a back alley that snaked between the back of two rows of 10-story apartment buildings. Adam was thankful that the backs of the buildings were all brick, and had no windows through which people might spy on their conversation.

  Then, like Michael was reading his mind, he said, “I used to be faithful to The State, and believe in City Watch. I was loyal to the system, like you. I believed in it, Adam. Then something happened … and everything changed.”

  Yes—you sent my sister to The Games!

  “What changed it?”

  Despite the fact that they had left the arcade because Michael had something to say, he now seemed like he was still trying to decide whether he was going to. He wore the same look Adam imagined he himself wore when about to get into trouble, when he had to tell the truth about something he didn’t care to talk about. Michael was showing some of the same signs City Watch had been teaching Adam to look for: the back and sides of his neck blushed a light red like his ears, his breath accelerated, hairs raised along the length of his arms as he glanced nervously in every direction.

  “What is it, Michael?” Adam asked, because Michael still wasn’t saying anything.

  Michael stopped walking, then blurted, “It was me—I’m the one who told City Watch about Ana and Liam. I got them in trouble.

  “I’m the reason your sister was sent to The Games.”

  Adam wanted to punch Michael, then kill him, then beat on his dead body. But at least he wasn’t lying—at least Michael had finally told him the truth. So Adam said nothing, waiting for Michael to fill in the blanks. Michael spoke fast, as if hurrying to expel his remaining confessions.

  “I’m so sorry, Adam. I was never trying to do anything bad. I wanted to do the right thing; I wanted to help Ana, not hurt her. I went to Keller and told him what I knew, but never expected that would get her into trouble, at least not like it did.”

  Michael’s voice cracked. Adam thought it might break.

  He wouldn’t have been upset if it had.

  “How could you do that to my sister?”

  Adam’s rage was a controlled boil. He wondered what he would be feeling if Michael’s confession wasn’t already old news.

  Michael steadied his breath. “I wasn’t trying to do anything other than be a good friend to your sister. I was trying to protect her. I knew Liam was bad news and didn’t want her falling in with his group. I had no idea she would get in so much trouble. But The State started lying about Ana, saying she was up to things I knew she wasn’t. Trusting Keller was a mistake. I wanted to fix things, but didn’t know what to do. I started asking around, then met a group of guys who knew Liam. We all got to trusting one another after not too long—and this time the trust wasn’t misplaced—and they asked me to join them.”

  Adam’s heart started racing. Keller was right about Michael, like the Chief had been right about everything else. Adam hadn’t wanted to think his sister could be part of The Underground, but Keller explained how she had been tricked by Liam. Used, he said. And while her heart probably held no malice, she still had to be held accountable. That Michael didn’t see this made anything he said about Keller, City Watch, or The State, ignorant at best.

  “Wait!” Adam cried out. “Are you in The Underground now?” He wasn’t shocked by the information itself. After all, the Chief told him what to expect—that was why Adam agreed to meet Michael at Nips in the first place. Adam’s surprise was the speed of discovering Michael’s secret: Michael had come right out and said it, three blocks from the arcade.

  Michael met Adam’s eyes. He nodded and said, “Yes.”

  Adam had thought this was what he wanted: Michael’s confession. But suddenly, the reality of the situation sank in. Michael confessed, and now Adam was obligated to tell Keller. As much as Adam hated Michael for what he’d done, there was a small part of him that didn’t want to see his friend rounded up, thrown in jail, or worse, into The Games.

  Michael just signed his own death warrant.

  “Why would you tell me that?” Adam felt like retreating, somehow unhearing what Michael had said. “You know I’m a Cadet, Michael! What makes you think I’ll keep your secret? You can’t expect me to do that.”

  “I believe you’ll keep my secret because you promised to in the arcade a few minutes ago. And I believe it because even though you work for City Watch, you have principles. You’re not a Cadet because you want to exercise power or hurt people, or because you believe in The State’s evil cause.

  “You’re in the Academy because you’re a good kid who doesn’t know better.”

  Adam was going to come back at Michael, mad at his assumption. But as Adam was about to argue, his attention was snapped by the soft whirring above. He gasped as an orb floated by overhead. It stopped and hovered, looking at them—probably recording them together to show back at City Watch.

  Adam’s heart was racing, feeling as if the towering buildings on either side of them were closing in. He wondered if a group of Watchers would suddenly rush at them, grab Michael, and throw him in a van.

  Adam shook his head violently back and forth, upset, wishing that Michael had said nothing. “I don’t want to know that, Michael!” He punched his friend on the arm. “I don’t want to keep that kind of secret.” As if it needed repeating, he yelled, “I’m a Cadet!”

  “I know,” Michael said. “And I know what a risk it is telling you, but I had to. I’ll take any consequences coming my way. I’ll take you being angry with me for getting Ana into trouble, and for getting her killed. But I had to tell you the truth, Adam. You’re my friend. You’re practically family to me.”

  Adam felt tears welling up. Michael was right. He was like a brother. And since he’d never see his father again, and his sister and mother were dead, Michael was the only person in Adam’s life who’d been there for him since the beginning.

  Michael continued, “You have to know what you’re getting into. The State, City Watch, Watchers, Keller—none of it’s what you think. Same for The Underground. It’s nothing like the terrorist group described by The State. The Underground isn’t the enemy you’re taught it is. The Underground is an enemy of The State because The State stands for tyranny. The Underground fights for people like you, working to get the oppressed out of The City to places beyond The Walls where we can live truly free.”

  “But The Underground kills innocents!” Adam insisted. “I’ve seen the Reels, Michael. Shootings, bombings, all sorts of stuff The Underground’s been responsible for. How does that make you the good guys?”

  “Because those are all lies, Adam. The Underground doesn’t do any of those things. And it never has. The Underground is made up of people like me, and … like your father.”

  “What do you mean my father? Dad wasn’t in The Underground! Nobody ever accused him of that.”

  “Yes, he was,” Michael said, his voice soft. �
��The State didn’t accuse him because it didn’t want to admit that one of its top City Watchers had been a part of The Underground. The State couldn’t admit that one of its own had turned. So it set him up somehow for your mother’s murder. He didn’t kill her, Adam.”

  From nowhere, and shocking himself as he did it, Adam swung at Michael.

  Michael, caught off guard, took Adam’s blow hard to the jaw. It was the same punch Adam had used on Ruben in combat. Michael reeled back, nearly losing his feet before regaining his balance. He looked like he was about to clock Adam back, but stopped short, wobbled, then met Adam’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said. “But it’s true. Your precious City Watch has lied to you, Adam, and has since the start.”

  Adam shook his head, refusing to believe and not wanting to hear, knowing Michael was the one telling lies.

  “The State set up your dad and your sister.”

  Heart pounding, Adam said, “Why would it do that? Ana saw him kill Mom!”

  “The State rigged it. I’m not sure how, but it tricked your sister into thinking she saw something she didn’t. It couldn’t admit that someone with such a high rank was a City Watch traitor, so it set him up for murdering your mother. It was The State’s way to silence him. It threw him in The Games, then did the same to Ana.”

  “Because of you!”

  “Yes. And I told you that, knowing how much it could hurt you—hurt us—because I want you to trust me. Want you to know what I’m saying is the truth.”

  Adam hated himself for not knowing what to believe. “If my dad didn’t kill my mom, then who did?”

  Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re still trying to find out. I know you hate me right now, but you don’t have to take my word for it. Let me introduce you to some people who can better answer your questions.”

  “What do you mean some people?”

  “I want you to meet some of The Underground,” Michael said.