“Are you sure?”
“Go!”
Namina pointed. “I-90’s a little over a mile south. You can take that. Do you know the way once you hit the interstate?”
Coryn smiled. “I took that route once. This time, it will be downhill.”
Eloise whispered, “Good luck.”
Coryn assessed. Trees and blackberries and rocks. Mostly evergreens, with an occasional winter-bare tree pointing black branches at the dark sky. No path. Not even an obvious game trail. Trees and debris blocked her way in all directions.
The wristlet burned in her mind, in her pocket.
“Expect it to be slow going,” Namina said. “It looks to me that you can go east a ways and then turn south. You’ll have to cross a few streams, but it looks like it will be passable.”
Eloise whispered, “Don’t use your light unless you have to.”
Because there could be enemies around? She didn’t even ask. That meant don’t use her own wristlet as well—it gave off an amazing amount of light in this much darkness. Its ability to give her directions would be slim here anyway. She just took a deep breath and started off. The forest was too dense to run through. It had not been burned or rewilded here. Big trees towered over her, and vining things pulled at her legs.
A few minutes into her trek, she put a foot down and it kept going, as if there was nothing under it. She grabbed blackened winter blackberry bushes to keep from falling into a hole she hadn’t seen at all. Maybe an animal den?
The woods smelled of mulch and rot and water.
Some of the places she slid through would clearly be impassable in spring. Now they were slippery with rotten leaves.
Lights flashed briefly some distance away. She stilled for a few moments, then kept going, moving even slower.
A large animal of some kind rustled away from her.
A swirling, gurgling sound and a thick, bright darkness identified a stream. She made it halfway across before her foot slid on an underwater rock and she went down on one knee, one hand in the cold water, one knuckle jammed when she caught herself. She forced herself to stop right there and make more drinkable water, and to have some.
The water cleared her head. She thought about following the stream, but a tree blocked her way so she kept bulling through underbrush, finally settling on a strategy of moving from big tree to big tree. Cedars kept the ground under them a little clear and the footing was better there. She could push into the branches, smell the crushed needles under her feet, and catch a short breath.
A bit of pale light showed in the sky. The beginning of dawn. That would be east, and she was heading too directly toward it, so she adjusted to leave it at her left shoulder. The light drove her. A reminder of how much time had passed.
She stumbled out of the woods and into a ditch beside I-90. The road was empty in both directions.
She drank the last bit of water from her bag, shoved it in her waistband, and started off at a slow jog. The even, reliable footing was heaven, the lights of the city ahead of her a beacon, the rising light of day a flail.
She ran, thinking about how she was going to get back into the city and about bombs and about Lou and about Imke.
The loop train had broken about midnight, and she had been jogging, or jumping, or running ever since. She had run for longer, but not much, and not with scrapes and bruises and a hurt knuckle, not with no food.
She couldn’t go as fast as she wanted to.
She started singing silly little songs and remembering the lions that used to chase her through AR worlds. Then she remembered Whitman.
I am Larger! Better than I Thought!
It gave her speed and balance. She remembered running with Tambara, the fast pace and cadence, the smooth beauty of Tambara’s legs. The way she had raced to win, had won.
I am Larger! Better than I Thought!
A convoy of silent electric trucks headed toward her, and she stopped beside the road, jogging in place to keep her muscles warm while they passed.
When she started again the small break had given her some speed back, or maybe she was just way past caring, in some weird place where the exhausted could run forever.
Her shadow was a long gangly runner in front of her, thin as a stick. She laughed.
I am Larger! Better than I Thought!
The lights of a car came up toward her. She slowed and ducked under a tree. The car stopped, and Blessing climbed out.
She nearly swooned at the sight of him, found she could barely move.
He called out, “Coryn! I know you’re here.”
She found the strength to take steps to him, falling into his arms. His hug hurt her scraped and bruised skin, but she didn’t care.
“We have to get to Julianna.”
“I know.” He stroked her hair.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
When Blessing and Coryn arrived at Julianna’s, they found her in the recliner, covered in a blue-and-gray blanket Jake had loved. His body had been removed and the sheets stripped, but Julianna clutched the blanket as if she were a child with a toy. A cup of hot tea sat untouched on the table beside her.
Coryn knelt in front of her and took her hands. She looked into her eyes, searching, trying to be sure Julianna was really there and even capable of listening. It was hard to tell. Blessing had assured her that he’d seen Julianna rally in bad situations. But the old woman sat so still it was hard to tell if she even knew they were there.
Coryn took a deep breath and pushed her panic away, hiding it from her voice. “Eloise is hurt, but Namina is with her. Blessing told your security staff where. I’ve brought the data from the farm. Eloise, Imke, Namina, and I believe it is very possible there are nuclear devices in the city. In many cities. I understand they are supposed to go off on New Year’s Day. That’s two days from now. But it could be sooner. We need to find out.”
Julianna managed to nod, and her eyes began to focus. “Say that all again?”
Coryn did.
At the end, Julianna leaned forward and licked her lips. Coryn brought her water, which she drank.
Since Julianna was looking directly at her now, Coryn kept going. “The city’s main EOC—not ours, but the one the mayor is in—was compromised. Blessing said that’s still true.” She glanced at Blessing, hoping for guidance. Julianna wasn’t going to find the nukes. Blessing steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, and she swallowed and dug in. “We have to tell more people than us.”
Julianna sat up and pushed the blanket back, blinking at Coryn. “Can you say that all again?”
She did, using almost exactly the same words.
“I understand.” Julianna’s tone had become crisp again. She picked up her tea. “Go on.”
“Blessing and I talked on the way in. We think it’s best to create a mini-EOC in here while we verify the data. Or at least read it before we send it on. Imke is taking the information—but not a copy of the data—to Chicago. So it will be out soon, or maybe it already is at some level. We’ll send her a copy after we pass it to our EOC, but we need to know what we have.”
“No sense in starting a panic,” Julianna said.
“That’s right.” That had been a coherent thought. “Can I call Adam?”
“Okay.” Julianna glanced at her. “Will you sit with me?”
“After I reach Adam.” Coryn messaged Adam to come immediately, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Evan brought her tea, his handsome, robotic face settled into a quietly pleased expression as he handed it to her. Blessing sat in a chair on the other side of the room, staring at his wristlet. Probably contacting Day.
Julianna smiled up at Evan, and asked, “Can you call the mayor for me, please? Tell him I’d like him to come in person, and to bring a single human security guard.”
Evan stepped through the door to place the call, and Coryn leaned over to Julianna. “We haven’t even read the data yet.”
“We know what it is, or what your sister says it is. That’s too big to
keep quiet.”
She took Julianna’s free hand in hers. “I agree. Thank you.” She felt lighter to think others would know. “But will he come?”
“Probably not. But now we have cover, in case this is real. You should remember that.” She leaned forward, still clutching the blanket, and met Coryn’s eyes squarely. “Whenever you have a secret that’s too hot to share, develop a plausible story for how you tried to share it. If it starts to look true, we’ll draw more attention to it by screaming louder.”
Coryn dropped Julianna’s hand and sat back, thinking. “We don’t want to tell the whole city until we’re certain because of the panic it might cause. But just in case the bombs go off, we need people to know we planned to tell them.” She didn’t like the words as she said them. They sounded cold.
“If I trusted the city’s systems, I’d tell everyone now.”
Why was the world so complex? It made her want to slam the wall with her fist. But that would just result in Evan standing between her and Julianna. She took a calming breath and a sip of tea. At least Julianna seemed happy to have political problems to deal with. So Coryn kept going. “Just so I understand, what I hear you saying is that we don’t know if there are any nukes. If this is a ruse to frighten us and we panic people, then our enemies can do more damage. Is that what you mean?”
Julianna said, “Much of the campaign against us is misinformation. The faster they can send lies to us and have us believe them, the more off-balance we are. The source of this data is Chelan. It’s a plausible source for true information. But it could still be a plant.”
Coryn swallowed hard and tried to think. She was tired, but she had instincts. “I think it’s true.”
“Because your sister is the source? The best lies come from sources we trust.” Julianna struggled to push the blanket off of her shoulders. “I’m too hot. We should get this place ready. There’ll be ten people working in here in ten minutes.” She glanced at Coryn’s arms, which were bleeding lightly from encounters with berry bushes even though she’d cleaned them up once.
Coryn went and washed, then helped Julianna fold the blanket and set it on the chair. By the time they finished, Julianna appeared to have buried her grief. She stood fairly straight as she pulled a box of the tablets and paper and pencils Jake had loved to take notes with out of a cabinet.
Evan stepped back inside. “The call went through. I don’t know if Mayor Arroya will get it in the current chaos. But I recorded it. Eloise is on her way in, as well.”
Already?
“Thank you.” Julianna managed a smile. “Help me get the room ready for a crowd?”
Evan took the box from Julianna, who began rearranging chairs. Coryn went to the small kitchen and rummaged for a pitcher of water and clean glasses.
As she worked, Coryn watched Julianna out of the corner of her eye. She looked so . . . unbroken. Like she and Lou had been, she supposed, after their parents died. You just kept going. Imke, too, had simply left her and gone to do what they had to do. Coryn dialed up the lights in the room and set the air freshener to release a light, healthy citrus.
Evan made the empty bed, even though it didn’t particularly need it. He unfolded the blue-and-gray blanket and refolded it into a neat rectangle, everything orderly. Jake had liked neatness.
Blessing looked up a few times, but otherwise he was fully engaged with his technology.
The air had already shifted from sickroom to office by the time a light bell announced the arrival of the elevator. Eloise, Adam, Day, and a woman she’d never met walked in. Eloise had cleaned up, although her hair was wet from a quick shower and dripped onto her clothes. She had a bandage on one arm, but no bandage on her head. She went to Julianna and held her, muttering, “I’m so sorry.”
The stranger’s skin was nearly as dark as Blessing’s. Her black and gray hair lay in fine beaded corn rows, and she wore a bright yellow dress that set off everything dark and beautiful about her. She gave Julianna a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
Julianna’s smile wavered for only a moment, and then she turned to Coryn. “This is my personal assistant, Coryn Williams. Coryn, this is my chief data scientist, and Adam’s boss, Serena Hingbe.”
Personal Assistant? Maybe that was just the easiest way for Julianna to introduce her. Adam had never told her he had a boss other than Julianna! Questions for another day. Coryn extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Serena.”
“Likewise.” Serena met her handshake, her hand a bit like a bird’s, with long bones and strong, slender fingers. Serena turned immediately to work, assessing tools and chatting with Eloise and Adam. Day stayed with them, and Blessing went to Evan, asking him questions.
Coryn couldn’t quite tell what was being done, but it looked like Serena was running programs against the diary, some kind of diagnostic that looked for keywords. Adam double-checked her and cut out pieces of text with dates and location words in it. Another program parsed that data through city cameras, and time after time, Eloise marked its output, the look on her face growing steadily grimmer.
A mere thirty minutes after they’d walked in, Serena looked over at Julianna. “I think this is authentic. We can pass it on.”
Julianna nodded. “Do it.”
Serena nodded. She picked up her tablet and sent a code. Coryn sat back to wait, feeling shell-shocked; she looked around the room and saw her own shock repeated on each face.
The mayor hadn’t come.
Julianna took Coryn’s hand, pulling her away from the table and back to the recliner. “I need to move.”
“You want to run? Now? What about the mayor?”
“I’m just going to the roof. Just walking. I’ve got to clear my head. It’s full of mush and grief. Fresh air will help.” She glanced at Evan. “Please come get me if anything happens.”
Evan nodded, and Coryn slipped a pair of running shoes on.
No public elevator led to the roof. Although there was a private elevator in the back of the hallway, Julianna insisted that they take the stairs.
Even though Julianna was far slower than usual, Coryn could barely keep up with her. Her limbs were stiff from the long walk, the run, and then riding back with no cool down. One ankle was slightly swollen. Midday sun beat down on the roof garden.
She had been awake over twenty-four hours.
Julianna set the pace. She started slow and accelerated to a fast enough walk that Coryn had to work to stay with her. Coryn stared down at the city, wondering what worked and what didn’t. What parts had been hacked? Smoke rose from two places in the distance, curling inside the dome and running slowly out. The dome’s field was designed for that. Otherwise, the city looked normal except for the largely empty streets.
Somewhere inside the dome, engineers and programmers waged war with other engineers and programmers. The good guys were trying to protect the city’s systems, but they probably weren’t winning everywhere. They hadn’t been yesterday, when she was bouncing between EOCs.
Cyberwar was fast. Blessing had warned her that they could win or lose in an instant and have nothing but cleanup left.
A few sirens went by far below them, the police cars looking like toys.
Julianna must have noticed her attention as she led her to an overlook that showed two rooftop parks below them, and below that another park. “It looks peaceful.”
“I feel like it’s damaged.”
Julianna leaned out over the guardrail, looking down. “The streets are too empty. But the city’s systems have many layers. They all connect at the middle, but hackers would need to get deep and far to cripple us. They can hurt us at the edge, but they can’t kill the city from the edge.”
“But it could happen.”
“Of course. Any system can be compromised, and we have many. But the city has an ethic. The systems here have ethics. We layered them in, everywhere. The same things we talk about—we put them into code. Equality. Health. Sustainability. It might be enough.”
“How will
we know?”
“We win.” Julianna turned away from the view of the city. “Or we don’t. Human history has always been about change. We’ve held onto power for over thirty years here. Study history. That’s a lot of time for the same kind of leaders to run a city.”
“Mayor Arroya isn’t like you.”
Julianna laughed. “Oh yes he is. He has different priorities. But he is like us in all the most important ways. He believes in cities, in humanity, and in wilding.”
“Doesn’t he want to go to space?”
Julianna started off at her fast walk again, and Coryn jogged a few steps to catch up. “So he’s not as optimistic as we were. Space is a coward’s way off the earth, and he is afraid.” She swept a hand out at the city. “Maybe he should be? How would I begin to say, now? We had to keep everything positive, keep the messages all about hope. We were so close to so many horrible tipping points.”
“We still are, aren’t we?” Coryn asked.
“Of course. Some are different ones, though. We haven’t saved the wild yet, but we’re closer. We’ve figured out how to get power to everyone, everywhere, without fossil fuels. When I was little, power was hard and damaging. Now it’s free and everywhere. We’ve created ways to recycle almost everything we use. We live in relative peace in the cities.”
Coryn broke in. “Not right now.”
Julianna smiled. “Relative. There have been peaceful periods as long as two decades in my life. At least in this corner of the world.”
Coryn nodded.
“We haven’t stopped the methane releases in the arctic. We should have expected the Returners to become dangerous, but we didn’t. We thought they’d fade away.” She waved her hand again, this time at the air. A gesture that seemed to say the list was longer but not worth talking about.
Coryn remembered what Lou had said about the concept of Keepers, but she didn’t have time to bring it up. Blessing was coming toward them on the round track, moving fast.
He was nearly out of breath when he reached them. “Calgary,” he gasped out. “A bomb. Inside the city. Five city blocks.”
Keepers Page 43
