"I can do this, Lia," Auden said.
I shrugged, and waved him out the door. At least he hadn't asked me to trust him.
Jude followed, but Zo hung behind, watching me carefully.
"What?" I said finally.
She paused, looking unsure whether or not to risk it. "So you're not going to try to talk me out of coming along?"
"Would there be any point?"
She shook her head.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
For a second I was afraid she was going to hug me. But instead she just smiled and ran past me out the door, practically skipping, as if she were seven again and I'd given her
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the secret password to the big-kids' clubhouse. I told myself that she knew exactly how serious this was and how big a risk she was taking, and that--as she'd proved to me over and over again--she was old enough and tough enough to decide she wanted to take it.
After the accident it had quickly--though maybe not quickly enough--become obvious that I wasn't the same person I used to be. It had taken another year to figure out that Zo wasn't either. But I finally got it. She was, after everything, still my little sister. But she was also Zo Kahn, someone I'd never bothered to know, not really--and now that I did, it was clear that protecting her from herself was neither an option nor a necessity. It was also clear that, as far as she was concerned, this wasn't just my fight. It was ours. So she was going to risk everything for it. And I was going to let her.
It had been easy enough for Zo to hack through the priv-walls on Ben's zone to discover he lived on a modest estate less than twenty miles away. The zone offered a cornucopia of Ben trivia: He lived alone, on the opposite coast from his ex-wife and teenage daughter, who, judging from the number of plaintive messages he sent her and the nonexistent response, wasn't any fonder of her father than I was of mine. The girl looked less like Zo than I'd thought when I first saw her picture--the stringy hair and baggy clothes were the same, but her features were smoother and more rounded. She had the
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same soft, waxy beauty as her father, if none of his impeccable fashion sense.
The house itself wasn't that impressive. It was half the size of ours, with barely any grounds, and what there was had fallen into disrepair. Kudzu crawled up the decaying brick, nearly blocking out the windows, and the weedy, browning lawn clearly hadn't been trimmed or watered in months. The security system was a sad, bargain-basement model--probably because no burglar in his right mind would choose a house like this to burgle when there were so many better options on offer--and Jude had no trouble jamming the alarm, shutting down the electrified perimeter, and easing open the back door.
"You're good at this," I said softly.
"Practice makes perfect," he muttered.
I didn't want to know.
It was well past midnight, and the house was completely dark. Auden, with a minimum of whining, had agreed to wait in the car under the theory that every criminal operation needed a getaway driver. Zo, Jude, and I used our ViM screens to light our way, and took our time making our way through the house, just in case we stumbled across anything relevant. Like a giant blinking poster detailing the logistics of phase three. Or a rabid guard dog.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there was nothing but a bare, personality-free house, with empty walls and furniture that, for the most part, appeared completely untouched.
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The kitchen was empty of both food and standard appliances. Breaking into someone's house was different from breaking into a corp--it felt almost like we were peering inside call-me-Ben's head, and, much as I disliked the guy, I couldn't take much pleasure in the fact that the view was so pathetic. The only sign that someone actually lived here was the occasional pic of his daughter, some from years ago, some clearly recent, the only commonality between them the fact that Ben was never in the shot.
We crept up the stairs, peeking silently into each room we passed. The first was a closet, the second a marbled bathroom, and the third a true surprise: a cluttered laboratory, its tables and shelves filled with spare mech parts, its whiteboard walls covered with Ben's messy scrawl, circuit diagrams dotted with question marks and the occasional exclamation point. Ben may not have gotten much living done in his house, but apparently that was because he was too hard at work. Against my will I felt another stab of sympathy, one that was easy enough to suppress when I reminded myself what he was probably working toward. We fanned out through the lab, searching for anything that screamed death to mechs, but none of us was particularly well equipped to analyze his equipment or the thrust of his research. Ben was one of the lead techs at BioMax, and had led the team that designed the original download technology--he could be working on anything, and we weren't
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going to figure it out by studying his circuit boards. He would have to tell us.
The next door was the bedroom.
I held the gun. Jude cleared his throat. Ben woke up. There was a moment of sleepy confusion; then he saw the muzzle pointed at his forehead, and bolted upright. I stood at the foot of the bed, about five feet away from him. Far enough that he couldn't do something stupid, like lunge at the gun. Close enough that even I couldn't miss. Zo waited in the hallway, just outside the door, on guard for reinforcements we weren't expecting--and, if it came to that, reinforcement herself if Ben proved somehow, unexpectedly, able to take on me, Jude, and a nine-millimeter pistol. The weapon was just as heavy as I remembered, but it fit more comfortably in my hands this time. The safety was off.
"What is this, Lia?" Ben asked in a low voice. I could tell he was trying not to show fear, but his eyes darted back and forth, from Jude to me to the gun and back to Jude again. He was afraid. His hand inched toward the nightstand.
Jude shook his head. "I wouldn't," he said. "Unless you think your trigger finger's faster than hers is."
Even a low-budget security system came with silent alarm switches that could be conveniently positioned around the house. Maybe Ben had just meant to turn on the light, or reach for his ViM. But there was no point in taking the chance. "I'd listen to him," I said.
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Ben did.
"What are you doing here, Lia? What are you doing with that?"
"You think he's talking about the gun, or about me?" Jude asked.
Ben wore a set of checkered flannel pajamas. His quilt was navy, with a thick black trim. For so long he'd been this BioMax boogeyman, always one step ahead of me, ready to cajole or blackmail or smarm his way into getting whatever he wanted. But now he was just a guy. And kind of a sad, small one.
"What's phase three?" I asked.
"What?"
"You're going to the server ship on Sunday. What are you doing there?"
"I told you before, we're dealing with the virus-- Look, is this about Riley?" He sounded almost impatient. "Because if it is, I was just trying to help. I didn't know about the stored file until recently, and this really isn't necessary; I can--"
"Shut up. This isn't about Riley. What's phase three?"
Ben swung his legs toward the side of the bed like he was about to climb out.
"Don't move," I said.
He shook his head. "You're not going to shoot me, Lia."
"You're so sure?"
"I know you," he said, the same old Ben, sure he knew me
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better than I knew myself. "This isn't you. Him, maybe, but not you."
"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment," I said. "But I'm guessing he will too." Never taking my eyes--or the muzzle--off of Ben, I handed the gun over to Jude. Just once, I'd wanted to see how it felt to have the power over Ben, the control, to know he had to do what I wanted. But I couldn't have pulled the trigger. I knew that, and he knew that.
For this to work we needed someone who could.
"Get back in bed," Jude said. Ben did as he was told. "You want to tell me this isn't me?" Jude sneered. "You want to tell me I don't have it i
n me?"
Ben was a good liar, but apparently not that good. He gripped the edge of the blanket, tugging it around himself like it was bulletproof. "What do you want?"
"Phase three," I said again.
"You keep saying that, and I'm telling you, I have no idea."
We went back and forth several times, until it was made clear that Ben was either far more courageous or more clueless than we'd given him credit for, because even with a gun in his face--wielded by a mech who would have loved nothing more than to pull the trigger on the man who'd delivered the news of Riley's death--he gave us nothing. I'd suspected all along that Ben wasn't behind BioMax's planned eradication of the mechs. He was too impassioned about the technology, too grossly sincere in his desire to help us, in his need to be liked. So maybe
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they'd kept him in the dark. It didn't mean he couldn't help us, willingly or not.
"I believe you," I said finally.
"Really?" he asked, surprised.
"Really?" Jude echoed, equally so.
"Really. So here's what you're going to do." I channeled my mother, and the imperious way she'd treated him, like he existed only to serve her purposes. I'd seen him bend to her, to M. Poulet, to anyone with enough power. If he liked to be led so much, we could accommodate him. "You're going to take us with you when you go to the server ship. Then it'll be easy to prove that you're not doing anything but helping us. Because we'll be right there with you."
Ben laughed, but it was a sick, frightened noise. "That's never going to happen."
"Try again," Jude growled.
"Do you know how much security there is on those ships?" Ben asked. "Even to get on the launch that's going to take us out to the ship, there are massive layers of security to get through. They're not going to just let me walk on board with a couple of mechs. And trust me, their guns are bigger than yours."
"So you're not going to help us," Jude said.
"I've been trying to help you," Ben said loudly, his voice climbing the register. "Why don't you just let me? Walk out of here, and we can pretend nothing happened. Let me stop
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the virus, and you can all just go back to your lives."
"All the people at Safe Haven, they can just go home?" I said.
"Of course."
"Because they're just being held for their own protection, right?"
"No one's being held," Ben said. "It's like I tried to tell your mother: They're not prisoners; they're clients. We're protecting them."
"Have you been inside?" I asked.
He hesitated. "That's not really my area."
"So you can't really say what's going on inside."
"It's my corp," Ben said. "I've been working there for twenty years. I've been working toward this, toward you, for twenty years. Why would any of us want to hurt you? We created you."
"So you're God," I said. "Someone tell Savona. I hear he's been hoping for an introduction."
"I know BioMax took something from you, Lia."
It was a tidy euphemism.
"But look what we gave you!" he continued. "A new life. Eternal life. A miracle. And this technology isn't just about saving individual lives or winning wars--this is the preservation of human consciousness. Through any upheaval, through all our global crises, we now have the tools to endure. This is a new beginning for us, Lia. For humanity."
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The saddest part of all was that I believed him. At least, I believed that he believed it. He believed in BioMax.
He didn't know.
"What's the EMP generator for?" I asked.
"What generator?"
"In Safe Haven, behind the residence facilities, there's an EMP bomb," I said. "Useful for emitting a giant electromagnetic pulse that could wipe us out in one shot. And not much else."
Ben shook his head. "You're mistaken."
"Or you are."
"We're wasting time," Jude said. "Can you get us to the ship or not? Because if not, you're not much use, are you?"
"Give him a chance," I said. It was a little late to try good cop, bad cop, but I figured it couldn't hurt. "I'm sure he'll think of something."
A bead of sweat trickled down Ben's cheek. His hands had turned white with the pressure of gripping the blanket. "I will," he said quickly. "I'll think of something."
But he didn't. Jude was getting impatient.
"Walk us through it," I suggested. "How do you get to the servers?"
"I have coordinates for the launch ship," he said. "We meet and set off from there--"
"Slow down," I said. "More details. When do you go. What do you do when you get there. You get the idea."
"I'm due at dawn. The rest of my team will arrive by two p.m."
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"Who's on the team?"
"Just my staff, other techs."
"You get to decide who goes?"
He nodded. "I give the list to security; they screen us and let us onto the launch ship."
"And why do you have to get there before everyone else?"
"There's equipment to load," Ben said. "This is a scheduled monthly maintenance check, so we're replenishing equipment and supplies. I have to supervise that it's all accounted for and loaded--"
"That's it," I said.
"What's it?"
"The equipment," Jude said. He got it too. "Shipping crates, right? Anything could be inside them."
"Well, they screen them--"
"But you're in charge," I said. "You say what goes and what doesn't. You could get around the screening."
"Maybe." Ben looked like he was almost as afraid of that prospect as he was of Jude shooting him down in his bed. It occurred to me that if he got caught trying to help us stow away, his ending wouldn't be any more pleasant.
I hadn't asked for this, I reminded myself. And I hadn't started it. BioMax had. Call-me-Ben had chosen his side. It wasn't my fault this was where he ended up.
Still, I was glad Jude was the one holding the gun.
"So we stow away in the crates," Jude said. "Just one
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problem--what's to stop him from screwing us over as soon as we're inside?"
"Don't suppose you'd just take my word for it?" Ben asked weakly.
"One of us needs to get on board with him," I said. "To watch him."
"That brings us right back where we started," Jude said, disgusted. "Nowhere."
"Not quite."
It couldn't be Jude, and it couldn't be me. No one would ever believe two mechs had business on a server ship, especially under these circumstances. Auden's face was too well known. Which left only one option.
And maybe I'd been thinking about it all along.
"Come in here, Zo," I called.
Ben's eyes widened as she came into the room.
"You recognize her?" I asked Ben.
"I don't think we've met, but I know the name."
Zo rolled her eyes. "Typical," she said. "We've met about ten times. Don't feel bad. No one ever notices me when big sister's in the room."
I didn't argue with her, because when it came to BioMax she was right. Which was what I was hoping. "No one knows her," I said. "She could be anyone. Even Halley."
What little color was left in Ben's face drained away. "What did you say?"
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"Your daughter. Halley. Don't you think she and Zo look a bit alike? I know you haven't seen her in years, so maybe you should just trust me on this--"
"Do not bring her into this," he said, with cold fury. So he did care about something beyond his corp and his cause. Who knew?
"No one knows Zo," I said. "No one knows Halley. A little hair dye, some new clothes, a fake ID ... There's no reason to think that your crew would be able to tell one from the other."
"You want--" He swallowed, hard. "You want me to pretend she's my daughter? And convince my team--and ship security--that for some reason I need to bring her along on a maintenance trip to a highly secure server farm?"
I shrugged. "Tell them it's a field trip. Or punishment. Or you're trying to buy her love with a vacation on the high seas. I don't care--you'll think of something."
Zo looked as uncertain as he did. "Lia, I don't know--"
"And I suppose she's going to, what? Hide the gun under her shirt? Or you want me to come up with an excuse for that one too? And have you thought about what happens to her if she tries anything? Surrounded by security?"
"We won't have to worry about that," Jude said, unexpectedly, and approached the bed. Ben pressed himself against the wall, eyes wild.
"Turn over," Jude said.
"Why?"
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"Just do it."
"No. No, you want to shoot me, you look me in the eye."
"I don't want to shoot you," Jude said. "But I will if I have to. Turn over."
Very slowly, Ben turned over, and lay facedown on the mattress. He was shaking. Jude bent over him. Something silver flashed in his palm as he brought his hand toward Ben's neck. Ben yelped with pain and jerked away.
"You can sit up now," Jude said, backing away. Ben rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, frowning as he felt something that shouldn't be there.
"What did you do?" he asked.
"Just a little fail-safe," Jude said. "Riley designed it. You remember how good he was with explosives."
Ben looked like he was remembering exactly how good Riley had been with explosives, at least when it came to wiring the Brotherhood laboratory for demolition. He looked like he was also remembering that the explosion in that case had happened somewhat prematurely.
Jude lowered the gun. In his left hand he held a slim cylinder with a button at the end. "There's a miniaturized explosive embedded beneath your skin, where your spinal cord meets your brain stem. I press this button, you go boom. Elegant, don't you think?"
He held it out to Zo, who waited a long moment before accepting the offering. I wanted to tell her she didn't have to.
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"You're bluffing," Ben said.
"You want a demonstration?" Jude asked. "I give Zo the word, and you'll be smeared all over your bedroom walls. Which, admittedly, could use the decoration--but you wouldn't be around to appreciate it, so what good would that do?"
"Lia, this is insane," Ben said. "Tell me you know this is insane."
Wired (Skinned, Book 3) Page 24
