“That’s why I gave you the long explanation.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced. “This Nathan motherfucker doesn’t seem like he’d have the patience to do something like that. Whoever put that message in there, I think they didn’t want the Enclave to find it.”
A little warmth gathered in Tris’ cheeks. “Still want that payment?”
The hacker glanced at Abby again before winking at Tris. “Nah. Don’t worry about it.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“De nada.” He shut down a few screens and followed them out of the cockpit, crawling onto the bed in the next space.
Tris took point, heading down the spiral stairs and back out into the airport building. As soon as Kevin shut the exterior door on the 747, it shook with a loud clunk.
Abby looked up at Tris. “Did he want you to sleep with him?”
“No.” Tris blushed.
“Are you trying to be like tame or something ’cause I’m here? Payment?”
“He wanted to see my chest. Take a picture of it.”
“Oh.” Abby smirked. “The guy seriously needs to stop being alone.”
Tris let out a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah.”
They walked in relative silence outside to the car.
Kevin pointed at the car. “I’ll drive a little closer to the junk pile so we don’t have to carry shit so far.”
Abby removed the red armored jacket and handed it to Kevin before pushing the driver’s seat aside so she could get in back.
“Okay.” Tris headed to the passenger door. A glint of metal caught her eye from the back seat. Two pairs of handcuffs.
Abby crawled in and pushed them out of sight under a blanket.
“Abby?” Tris slid into her seat. “Why do you have those?”
“Huh?” asked Kevin.
The discovery didn’t faze Abby. “I want you to teach me how to open them. ’Case I get grabbed or something.”
“She’s got the cuffs I took off Katie.” Tris pointed at the back seat. “Thought she was terrified of them. She must’ve swiped them from the table when no one was looking.”
“I am scared of them.” Abby looked down. “That’s why I wanna know how to get out of ’em. Will you teach me how to pick locks?”
Kevin turned the car on and backed up.
“It’s not quite the same as picking locks, but… yeah sure why not. Girl can’t have too many skills right?” She smiled. “Later though. I don’t want you messing with those things out in the Wildlands. Anything could happen at any time.”
Abby nodded. “Okay.” She grinned. “An’ maybe you can teach me ’bout ’lectronics too.”
Oh, I swear if we get home safe, I’ll teach you about particle physics. “Sure.”
Kevin brought the car around to the narrowest point in the junk row the car could reach, and stopped. Tris looked down, overcome by a sudden wash of sadness at her memory of thinking he’d left her there for good.
He reached over, placed his hand behind her head, and pulled her into a gentle kiss. “Can we forget we both acted like idiots?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
Tris hopped out and walked the last thirty or so yards to the left turn that brought her into the rounded area full of old android parts. Kevin wandered about grabbing anything he thought resembled Bee. Abby poked and played with random pieces of tech. Tris hauled the mostly-intact torso of a similar android out of a heap. Aside from missing its legs and head, the interior looked like it had most of the same parts as Bee, perhaps enough to get her going again… assuming they worked.
Abby progressed from curious to passive to visibly bored. Tris spent a little more than an hour and a half collecting anything she thought might be potentially useful for future ‘Bee maintenance.’ As piece number twenty-two went into the trunk, Kevin raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m trying to gather a bit of a reserve so we don’t have to drive all the way out here again if something else goes wrong with her.” She dropped a hollow plastic head with some circuit boards in it into the trunk. “Try to find a couple arms or legs for spare actuators.”
Eventually, Tris figured she’d collected a decent enough haul, and slammed the trunk lid. They sat in the shade of a towering collection of ancient kitchen appliances while gnawing on dust hopper jerky. When he finished his piece, Kevin wiped his hands on his pants and stood. Tris gave him a nod to acknowledge his desire to get going. He wandered out of sight behind a pile of junk while reaching for his zipper. Tris ducked into an opposite alcove in the scrap maze, in search of a clear spot of dirt to take a leak before the long ride. As she shoved her pants down, she eyed the surroundings, wary of a sniper.
Abby startled her, appearing close by her side. She also assumed the position. “Why do you look so nervous?”
Having her right next to me is only a little uncomfortable… Tris forced a smile. “I, uhh, got attacked by a sniper once while I was peeing in the woods.” She chuckled. “Up till that moment, I thought ‘caught with my pants down’ was only a saying.”
“Eww. I hope you killed him.” Abby kept quiet for a few seconds. “Did he at least let you finish before he shot at you?”
“Actually, it was a misunderstanding. I trust her now.”
“Her?” Abby blinked.
“Zara. She’s from the Enclave too.”
“Oh, wow. She shot you and you like didn’t kick her ass?” Finished, Abby stood.
Tris cringed. “That hurt so damn much, but I knew she’d been manipulated.” She got up and hiked her jeans back in place. “And before you say it, yes, I am too forgiving.”
“You get shot a lot.” Abby stared at the ground. “I wish my dad had those things that fix you.”
Tris hugged her and rocked her side to side. “Me too.”
Abby gave her a teary-eyed look that thanked her all over again for protecting her from Warren. Tris couldn’t think of anything to say back to her; guilt sat in her throat like a boulder.
“You girls coming?” yelled Kevin. “Battery’s draining.”
“Yeah,” croaked Tris. She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Time to go home.”
Abby nodded, took her hand, and walked at her side to the waiting car.
6
A Long Time to Fix
Acrid fumes from the soldering iron wafted up past Tris’ face, making her squint. She waved at the layer of white smoke settling inside Bee’s open back. Clatters of metal, the occasional clonk of lumber, and the distant murmur of people talking echoed off the corrugated metal walls of Nederland’s ‘technical center.’ The large former factory building housed the extent of everything not covered by simple carpentry, plumbing, or automotive mechanics.
Since she couldn’t move, Bee had spent most of the past few weeks chatting with other people in the technical crew, especially Crystal, the manager. Cassie, the head tech from Amarillo, had integrated herself among the locals as one of the more competent people for electronics despite being only twenty-two. Constant blue-eyed blonde jokes stopped once she fixed the central radio unit in a mere fifteen minutes, the same radio the militia had given up on ever being able to use again. In resurrecting it, she’d earned their respect.
Abby sat in a metal folding chair at the end of Tris’ workbench near Bee’s shoes, holding a set of handcuffs while working at them with a shim. It took her a while, but she managed to open it. Each time she succeeded, she closed the hasp and did it again. Tris took the liberty of machining up three more shims. Two went in her shoe for safe keeping, and the third clicked and scraped away in Abby’s grasp.
“You did something good,” said Bee. “I am getting a POST from the primary gyroscope.”
“Great.” Tris wiped sweat off her forehead.
“Post?” asked Abby.
“Means it’s booting up. Power-On Test.”
“That’s POT.” Abby stuck out her tongue.
“Self-Test,” said Bee. “Reports functional. Still, I do not appear to hav
e arms or legs.”
“I’m working on it.” Tris stooped over the android’s back again. “That power spike cooked a couple things I didn’t see before. I’m glad I went shopping.”
“This settlement possesses a surprising amount of technology given its size.” Bee lifted her head, turned it to peer into the room instead of at the wall, and lowered it. “They have been asking me for advice. I’ve accessed data tables and run computations I never calculated I would use again.”
Tris removed twelve hex screws holding a hip actuator in place and extricated a flat, donut-shaped, metal ring. It looked fine on the outside, but the circuitry in it had fried. “I’m glad you’ve been involved, not just lying here.” She seated a new one she’d recovered from Omaha and started replacing the screws.
“I am not susceptible to the same feelings of distress a human might suffer from inability to ambulate. My great grandfather was a desktop computer. They do not move.”
Tris blinked at her. “Your sense of humor is getting better.”
“Shit. Tris. Help,” whispered Abby, her voice wavering.
Tris looked over. The girl had handcuffed herself, and couldn’t get the shim in like she could while merely holding them. She grasped Abby’s hands and maneuvered them around to the proper angle. Abby fiddled at it for a few seconds, rising panic visible on her face. Tris again took her hand and helped her force the lock open.
Abby sagged against the wall, out of breath. “Uhh, maybe I’m not ready for that yet.”
“You don’t have to do any of it. No one will be upset with you if you give up. But, the only way to get better at something is to do it over and over. At least you don’t have Randall teaching you.”
“Who’s that?” Abby bit her lower lip and fiddled with the remaining cuff on her left arm.
“He’s the guy who forced me to learn how to escape. Even in virtual reality, being dropped face first into a swimming pool while cuffed was not fun.”
Abby paled.
Tris frowned. “He called it motivation. It wasn’t real; I was in a simulation.” And apparently simulated reality can cause nightmares. She finished tightening the screws and connected a ribbon cable to the actuator.
“S-simulation?” Abby glanced down, wincing as the shim slipped and stabbed her in the wrist. “Ow. Shit.”
“It’s like a dream.” Tris pulled her hair back and tapped the tiny plug behind her left ear. “From a wire.”
“That’s freaky.” Abby bit her tongue in concentration, wiggled the shim, and the cuff slipped open. Her entire body sagged with a sigh of relief.
Bee’s foot twitched.
Abby glanced at the android. “You fixed her hip. Why is her foot moving?”
“The wiring is in series. The blown actuator blocked everything past it.” Tris pointed. “The cable has power and control signals. It plugs into the ring, which connects to another lead embedded in the ‘bone’ that goes to the rest of the leg.”
“Oh. That is most excellent.” Bee moved her leg around. “Please fix the other side.”
Tris grabbed a black box about the size of her fist. “I’m going to replace the secondary capacitor first. I think I figured out why your arms are offline.”
“Serial connectivity routed through the capacitor. You are correct,” said Bee.
Abby went back to practicing on the cuffs while holding them. “Can you get out of them if they put your hands behind you?”
“Yes. As long as I can get hold of a shim. That’s how I was when they threw me in the pool.”
“How can you escape when you can’t even see them?” Abby blinked.
“Going by feel. Takes a bit of practice.”
Abby seemed frightened by the thought, and looked down as she worked. “I don’t want to do that yet.”
Tris removed the blown-out capacitor and tossed it over her shoulder. “It’s okay. Whatever you want. This was your idea.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t wanna be stuck if the Infected find me.”
Tris paused working on Bee to squeeze Abby’s shoulder. “I won’t let anyone ever do that to you again.”
Abby reached up and grasped Tris’ hand, smiling.
“Hey.” Kevin walked over holding the dead capacitor. “Careful. That almost hit me in the head.”
“Sorry.” Tris turned to give him a quick hug and kiss before seating the replacement.
“How’s the patient, Doc?” He leaned forward to peer inside. “Wow. I’m in awe that you can make sense of any of that. There’s so much stuff packed in there.”
“I think I’ll have her up and running in another few minutes.”
“That would be wonderful,” said Bee. “I would possess much gratitude.”
“So…” Kevin threaded his arms around her waist and hovered his chin at the side of her head. “Might as well talk about it before you burst.”
Tris let her arms slack and hung her head. “I know it’s stupid. It makes no sense at all, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Your dad… They said he was killed, right?”
She clung to an ancient memory… herself about six sitting on the floor, surrounded by computer parts and robot bits in his lab. Her father, frazzled grey hair and white labcoat, smiled down at her from his chair. Six years old and she’d made a robotic fish. Not that it could swim, or even really looked like a fish. It came out shaped like a slab, but it bent itself back and forth almost like a fish swimming.
Dad had reacted as if she’d invented cold fusion.
Tears ran down her face. “Yeah. I was nine when they came for me… told me he’d died in an accident. I spent a day or two in the hospital being checked out and they assigned me to this couple. Those people completely refused to believe they adopted me. They acted like I was really theirs and I’d made up my father like some kind of invisible friend.” She sighed. “Enclave probably told them to act like he never existed or they’d kill us all. They thought I was ‘disturbed’ and brought me to a psychiatrist.” She frowned at the painful memory, jabbing at a stuck screw in Bee’s back. They really laid on the guilt trip. I almost wanted to believe it hurt them when I said they weren’t my real parents.
“That sounds painful.” Kevin kissed her ear.
Abby popped the cuffs, relocked them on nothing, and attempted to open them again with her eyes closed.
“It’s a mental doctor. I eventually stopped mentioning him because I didn’t want them to think I was crazy. For a little while, I started to wonder if maybe I had made him up, but… I just know. The memories were too real. Too complete.”
Kevin squeezed her from behind. “Sorry. So… what does your instinct tell you?”
“My head says this is a stupid idea.” She grunted while trying to force a connector into the capacitor. Six tiny flat metal blades protruding from a plastic housing did not want to slide easily into their corresponding socket. It looked right, but refused to go in. “Shit. Why won’t this go in?”
Kevin stepped out from behind her and took it from her grip in two fingers, twisting it up to examine it. He glanced between the connector and the socket. “I think that pin second from the top is a little bit wider than the rest. One of those ‘only goes in one way’ deals.”
“Crap. You’re right.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been staring at circuits for three hours without a break… and I’m…”
“Distracted? Worried?”
“Yeah, both.” She twisted the plug around the other way and pushed it home. A little corrosion on the metal blades made it a stiff fit, but it worked.
Bee emitted a loud beep before convulsing in a spot-on impression of a live salmon someone had tossed on a grill. Abby let out a shriek of startlement, leapt out of her chair, and scurried to a safe distance. Kevin guarded his nuts and took two steps back.
The fit lasted four seconds before Bee lay still.
A short trumpet sound effect that suggested ‘ta-da!’ played from her.
“Power on
diagnostic complete. Unit online. Maintenance suggested for… Secondary fuse cluster.” Pause. “Primary memory module.” Pause. “Right shoulder mobility systems.”
Beep.
Bee pushed herself up to kneel, twisted about, and sat on the table with her legs dangling. “Gratitude.” She reached out to hug Tris.
“You’re welcome.” Tris embraced the android. “Okay, lie back down a bit more. You’re still wide open.”
“Oh. Yes. That is a wise decision.” Bee resumed lying on her front, though she folded her arms under her head.
“Well, like I said, on a brain level, I think it’s stupid and reckless… but on every other level, I feel like it’s something I have to do. The Enclave said he died, but… I’m not sure I’d believe anything they say.” She opened the back of Bee’s head and poked at a row of green circuit board cards. “Bee… I have to re-seat your primary NVRAM cards. I can’t do that when you’re on. Would you shut down? I promise I’ll turn you back on in like two minutes.”
“Okay. I trust you.” Bee blinked with a click. “Beginning power down sequence. Volatile memory transfer completed. System shutdown in three… two…”
Bee stopped moving.
“You’re not going again?” Abby ran over and grabbed Tris. “What if you get hurt and don’t come back?” She sniffled and started crying. “I don’t wanna be alone.”
Tris pulled her into a tight hug. I’m so terrified that they’re going to kill everyone here. I can’t just sit around. “Abby… what happened in Amarillo could happen here.”
Abby stared at her, open-mouthed.
“I don’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, you did,” whispered Kevin. He patted Abby on the shoulder. “What she means is, there’s a chance they could do it. Not that they will.”
“You don’t know that.” Tris bit her lip and growled. “Nathan’s not going through proper channels. He’s been rogue from the start on this and I think it’s taking him a while to find a way to sneak a flight path past the monitors. I… I’m sorry, Abby, I don’t mean to get you worked up over nothing, but I’ve been scared shitless that there’s gonna be a drone coming by.”
The Roadhouse Chronicles Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 94
