Taro drops to his knees and peers under Maxwell’s bed. “Nothing under here, either,” he says.
“If he’s a League agent, he’s got to have a way to make contact with them,” Billy says. “He should have a communication device of some sort, something that can’t be traced.”
I drop down beside Taro and stick my arm under Maxwell’s mattress. Nothing.
“In here,” Billy says, calling from the bathroom.
There’s barely room in the small space for Billy. Taro and I lean through the doorway for a better look. Billy rummages through the medicine cabinet. When that turns up empty, he rifles through the cabinet under the sink. Taro provides the light, shining the flashlight over Billy’s shoulder.
“Nothing.” Billy sits back on his heels, lips pursed.
My eyes land on the toilet. “What about there?” I point.
Billy opens the bowl, shifting to make room for Taro and his flashlight.
“Nothing special in there,” Billy says, frustration clear in his voice.
He closes the toilet and reaches for the tank. The porcelain grinds as he lifts the lid. Taro shines the flashlight inside the tank, then across the underside of the lid.
“Nothing,” Billy growls.
“Wait a sec.” I squint, peering at the underside of the lid. “I saw something.”
“In here?” Billy flips the tank lid back over to expose smooth white porcelain.
“I thought I saw something.” I frown, taking the flashlight from Taro. As I skim the light along the edge of the lid, I see a flash of silver. “There!” I hiss, aiming the beam.
This time, my friends see it, too. Billy’s excitement practically crackles over his skin. He yanks the flashlight out of my hands and positions it between his teeth.
As the beam moves, the flash of silver disappears, replaced by plain, porcelain white. As Billy adjusts the light and leans in close, the silver reappears. I lean forward and make out a small cube attached to the lip of the lid.
“It’s a cloaking device,” Taro says. “The flashlight interrupted its signal.”
Billy reaches down and yanks on the tiny device. It comes out with a soft snap. There’s a sizzle of electricity as the cloak deactivates. The inside of the lid is fully revealed.
Lying flush against the porcelain, attached by Velcro, is a tablet barely larger than my hand.
“Yes!” Billy seizes the device and turns it on, absently shoving the lid at Taro. The screen in Billy’s hand illuminates, asking for a password.
Taro settles the lid back into place. Billy’s fingers fly over the small keypad. Thirty seconds later, the home screen pops up. There are two folders on the desktop. One is labeled PR, the other Plague Data.
“A public relations folder?” I whisper, confused. “That’s weird. Open the other one.”
Billy taps the folder. The screen is filled with a graph. Along the bottom are names of cities and their corresponding states. Along the right side are the words Time Until Death.
The line on the graph rises steadily from left to right, showing a progressively longer survival rate.
“He’s studying death rates,” Taro says. “Why?”
Billy scrolls to the second folder and opens it. A picture fills the screen.
I step back, mouth going dry.
On the screen is a picture of half a dozen refugees. I can tell they’re refugees by their stained and patched clothing. Most of them have scarves or scraps of cloth tied around their mouths.
And they’re all dead.
A knot forms in my stomach. The bodies are heaped in a pile in an alleyway. There’s no blood anywhere and the bodies appear to be intact, but I can tell from the sightless eyes that they’re dead.
Billy flicks a finger across the screen.
Another picture of dead bodies. Then another, and another. Piles of dead people. Most of the dead are the young and old.
“What sort of public relations stuff is this?” I ask. The sight of so many dead makes tears clutter my eyes.
Neither Taro nor Billy responds. Billy continues to the flick through the pictures. A few more snapshots of bodies, then an electronic image of a map.
It’s a map of the United States. There are a handful of red stars on the map. I lean forward for a better look, reading the names of the towns marked out by the stars.
Altura, Minnesota. Duncan, Nebraska. Wilmot, South Dakota. Byron, Wyoming—
From the front room of the house comes a soft click. Taro and Billy hear it, too. Billy clutches the tablet to his chest, eyes darting back and forth. Taro takes me by the shoulders and pushes me toward the bed.
“Under,” he breathes.
I don’t think. I drop to my belly and slither underneath. Taro is right beside me, the two of us wedging our bodies beneath the narrow bed. Billy comes next. Even Riska burrows with us, crouching between my feet.
The bedroom door swings open. My heart thuds. There’s a bare inch between the bottom of the bedspread and the floor. I’m so breathless with fear that it takes a moment to realize the boots are too small to belong to Maxwell.
The boots stop in front of the bed. The owner crouches down, peering at us. I register a shock of short red hair. Hank’s green eyes go straight to Billy.
“It is you,” she breathes.
Taro and I exchange glances. Billy looks like he wants to collapse in on himself.
“You were supposed to meet me at the Aircat landing pad after my Vex appearance.” Hurt and accusation lance Hank’s tone. “I waited, but when you didn’t come I started walking home … and then I saw you guys …” Her voice trails off. She straightens, disappearing from view, but I detect a distinct sniffle.
The three of us roll out from under the bed. Billy emerges last, practically hiding behind every scrap of hair on his head. Riska mews, flying up to my shoulder.
“Billy, I thought you were done with this kind of stuff.” Hank’s eyes are wet. The accusation is all gone, replaced by the hurt.
“Now isn’t the time for this,” I say. “We need to leave. If we get caught—”
“We could all get thrown out of the Dome.” Hank gives Billy a look of despair, tears welling in her eyes again. Without another word, she turns and walks out. I hear the front door open and close.
Billy starts after her, then stops and stares down at the tablet in his hand.
“Are you going to go after her?” I ask.
Even with half of his face concealed by his bangs, I can see the tension in Billy’s neck and jawline. He hesitates, then shakes his head.
“This is bigger than me and Hank. Everyone here in the Dome could be in danger.” He pulls out a small screwdriver, barely larger than my pinkie finger, from his pocket. With his other hand, he slides the back off the tablet, then peers down at the internal organs of the tablet. “There might be a tracker or a self-destruct mode in here …”
He sticks the screwdriver into back of the tablet and pries. I hear something snap. Billy pulls out something small and black barely larger than a rice grain.
“This is the tracker. Here. Get rid of it.” He passes it to Taro.
Taro takes the small tracker. He considers it a moment, then smashes it between his thumb and forefinger.
“And here. Break this, too.” Billy passes Taro something rectangular and silvery. “Now they can’t remotely destroy the tablet. Come on.”
I look for Hank as we hurry back to Billy’s house, but she’s nowhere to be seen. By the way Billy scans the area, head swiveling back and forth, I can tell he’s looking for her, too. I want to say something to comfort him, but can’t find any words.
For a brief fifteen seconds, I entertain the idea of Hank having a complete change of heart and helping us figure out what’s going on with Maxwell. It would be like old times, when she helped me get Black Tech from Billy to sneak into the Cube.
Then I snap back into reality. I admit to myself that Hank will never side with us on anything that goes against a Global rul
e. I sigh, feeling sad. Billy glances over at me. I see the same sadness reflected in his face.
“We have to go forward,” he says.
“I know.”
When we reach Billy’s house, Uncle Zed pounces on the tablet. He paces back and forth in the small entryway, beads of sweat crowning his forehead as he scrolls through the pictures. The rest of us find places among the piles. I’m wedged between the edge of the sofa and a box of children’s pre-’Fault toys.
“Project Renascentia,” Uncle Zed mutters. “Project Renascentia.”
“PR,” Taro whispers. “Is that what it stands for?”
Billy nods. I feel like an idiot for thinking it stood for Public Relations. It shows how much Global has brainwashed me.
“What do you think it all means?” I ask. “Does it tie Maxwell to the League?”
Zed halts mid-stride, staring at me. “Morning Star, I have to investigate this. In Vex. Tomorrow. My storage site. There’s intel there for cross reference.” Zed continues to pace, flipping through the images on the tablet.
Taro tenses beside me. “I want to go with you,” he says. “To Daruuk’s, I mean.”
I frown. “Why?”
He scrubs a hand over his crew cut, not quite meeting my eyes. “Look, I know how important this is to you. I know you want to see him.” There’s an edge to his voice, but he doesn’t sound angry. “It would just make me feel better if I was there to watch your back. Your real-world back.”
This makes me feel mushy inside. Taro cares enough to help me, even if he doesn’t agree with my decision.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’d appreciate that.”
I catch Billy watching us. He looks away, but I know what he’s thinking: he’s wishing Hank would support him in the same way. I can’t help but wonder what’s ahead for my two friends.
• • •
We don’t stay much longer at Billy’s. Taro walks me home. I scan the homes around us, looking for signs of people, but the Village remains silent around us.
My mind flashes to the pictures on Maxwell’s tablet—all those dead people. What does it mean and how does it tie to the League? Does it even tie to the League?
I was hoping we’d find something we could take to Mr. Winn to prove Maxwell is the League mole. Instead, all I got was a head full of horrors and more questions.
It’s almost too much to process. My mind spins.
When we reach my house, I draw to a halt outside my bedroom window. The sliver of moonlight accentuates Taro’s chiseled features and dark, handsome face. When I look at him, the world around me feels stable. He’s the only thing solid in this bizarre, violent world. He’s my anchor.
I lean forward and rest against him. His heart beats, strong and steady, against my cheek. He holds me tight, resting his chin on my head.
“Do you think they’re going to be okay?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Hank and Billy.”
“I don’t know.”
“I guess neither of us knows much about relationships,” I mutter. Then I lean back, frowning up at Taro. “How many girlfriends have you had?”
His arms tighten around me. “I’ve never had a serious relationship. Merc girls are like merc guys, just with different anatomy.”
I laugh at that. Taro tips my chin back with his fingers and kisses me gently. I rise up onto my toes, cinching my arms around his neck. The kiss deepens as Taro grips me around my waist, his hands encircling my hips and the small of my back.
Someone clears his throat—loudly.
We turn in surprise. Dad stands there in the dark, fully dressed, yanking on his hair as he watches me and Taro.
I disentangle myself but stay close to Taro. I lace my fingers through his hand and look steadily at Dad, unashamed. Riska lands on my shoulder, tail swishing against my back.
For several tense seconds, Dad’s eyes flick from me to Taro. He sighs, hands tightening in his hair.
“Sulan, I need Riska.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Dad raises a hand. The words die on my lips as I see how exhausted he looks. There are dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders are hunched. At some point, it looks like he spilled coffee on his pants and didn’t bother to change.
I pull Riska into my arms and pass him to my father. Riska perches on his shoulder.
“Go inside, Sulan,” Dad says. “I’ll be home later. Taro, come with me.”
He turns away without another word. Taro’s eyes meet mine before he falls into step with my father. I watch them go.
Even though I itch to follow them and find out what’s going on, I don’t. Something in the way Dad looked at me has my feet anchored to the ground. I’ve never seen him look so tired, so beaten up.
“What’s going on in this place?” I whisper. I can only hope Taro is able to eavesdrop on them, or that Zed and I can learn something valuable in Vex tomorrow night.
40
Vex
Taro is waiting for me the next morning when I step outside. Riska—who Dad returned to me last night after being gone almost an hour—swoops off my shoulder and lands on Taro’s.
“Hey.” I smile in greeting, feeling oddly shy.
His eyes are bright when he looks down at me. “Hey.” His smile warms me down to my toes. He bends down and kisses my nose, which makes me grin like an idiot.
I slip my hand into his as we start walking.
“What happened with our dads last night?” I keep my voice soft. There are many people out, most of them heading toward the cafeteria.
“They went into my dad’s room to talk and I couldn’t overhear anything.” Taro grimaces. “Dad was … put out with me, when he found out I’d snuck out to be with you.”
“Oh.” I take a moment to digest this. “He was mad because you were out with me, or because you were out with a girl?”
“My dad has this thing about looking out for Morning Star’s daughter. He was mad because—” Taro breaks off, making a face. “Let’s just say I got another lecture.” A scowl creeps onto his face. “He thinks that just because he did certain … stupid things as a teenager, I’m going to do them, too.”
I decide not to ask for details.
“I guess it’s better for him to think those things,” I say. “I mean, instead of really knowing what we were doing. I just wish I knew what our dads are up to.”
“Did you get a lecture last night?” Taro asks.
I shrug apologetically “I pretended to be asleep when he got home.”
We reach the cafeteria and join the buffet line.
“I’d sit somewhere else this morning, if I were you,” Daruuk says as he breezes by me with a plate piled high with food. He’s plumped up in the past few weeks since moving here. His cheeks are fuller and his eyes aren’t as deep-set as they used to be. “Simmons is in a mood. There’s always room at our table.”
I glance toward the table where Hank sits with Timmy, Billy, and Uncle Zed. She attacks her pancake, slicing at it with her knife as though it committed an unforgivable crime. Tense lines ring her mouth. Frustration oozes off her, even from this distance.
Timmy and Billy eat in silence, eyes fastened to their plates. Even Zed casts wary looks in Hank’s direction.
Great. Just great.
“Thanks, but we can’t abandon Billy and Zed,” I say.
Daruuk shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just don’t be late tonight. We start at 1 a.m. sharp. If you’re late, it’ll cut into your time.”
I sigh and nod, then grab a plate and proceed to fill it with food. Then I head to our table and plop right down next to Hank.
“You’re just as bad as the rest of them,” Hank snaps by way of greeting. “It’s not enough to risk everything by breaking into a mercenary’s house. Which I don’t want to know anything about, so don’t tell me. I suppose you’re also one of the idiots planning to go into Vex?”
I shrug and begin to eat. There’s no reason to deny anything.
“You’re all
going to get in trouble,” she hisses. “Why risk what we have here? If Mr. Winn finds out, he could throw every last one of you out.” Her eyes grow pained as she looks at Billy. “He insists on going to Daruuk’s tonight, too.”
Billy coughs and leans over his plate. His bangs create a shield between him and the rest of the table.
“You’re as stupid as the rest of them,” Hank says to me. She looks across the table at Taro. “You’re with me on this, aren’t you? You know what they’re doing is dangerous, right?”
Taro shrugs and starts eating. “If it’s important to Sulan, it’s important to me.”
Hank makes a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “You know why she’s going, don’t you? She wants to see Gun.” Her look is nothing short of scathing when she turns to me. “I don’t know why you waste your time. It’s not like you’ll ever get to meet him in the real-world. He’s out of your life, Sulan. Deal with it.”
I stare at her coldly. “You’re going to have to face the fact that not everyone shares your worldview. Deal with that, Hank.”
She glares at me and stabs her pancake with a fork. I smile at her and cut into my pancake.
The rest of the meal passes in silence.
• • •
It’s after midnight when I crawl out of my window that night. I’m exhausted after a long day—three Vex appearances and another two hours with Kerry—but I’ve spent weeks waiting for a chance to get into Vex. Nothing short of a nuclear meltdown could keep me away.
Well, that or maybe Dad. Luckily he isn’t home from work yet. I’m sure he’ll check on me when he gets back. If I’m lucky, I’ll beat him home. If not … well, I’ll deal with the consequences, whatever they are.
Taro and Billy wait for me outside my bedroom. Uncle Zed paces in a circle ten feet away from them, muttering about commies.
Without a word, we head off to Daruuk’s house, Zed trailing along behind us. Hank’s absence is conspicuous, but none of us mentions it. Riska rides on my shoulder, ears pricked forward.
Daruuk lives one street over from me. His bedroom window is open, the room inside dark.
Sulan Box Set (Episodes 1-4) Page 45
