Danger’s Vice

by Amanda Carlson

  With great relief, the small chip fell into my outstretched palm.

  I exhaled.

  Not finding it here would’ve been devastating on a number of levels. Recovering the quantum drive had now propelled us ahead of the game. We had access to something that Hutch likely needed to implement his dastardly plans. It’d been important to Tandor—so important he died for it. He’d called the drive “the key.”

  The key to what was the mystery.

  But hopefully not for long.

  “Well?” Case asked, his face still angled toward the passenger window.

  I tucked the small chip into a vest pocket. The pico was still safely nestled against my abdomen. It was so small I barely knew it was there. “I have it.”

  In that moment, I realized I’d given Case my Gem.

  I tensed. If Case planned to double-cross me to get the quantum drive, now would be a good time to make his move.

  With a look of disdain, and without being asked, Case spun the barrel of my Gem around and handed it to me butt first. It was dark, so I couldn’t see his expression, but I could picture it. It was a combination of I told you so and this is getting old.

  I took the gun and holstered it at my waist, arching my lower half off the seat to get it secured. “You can’t blame me for thinking you’re going to turn on me. You’ve done it a few times already. Practice makes perfect.”

  He sighed. It was a low, quiet sound. “Everything I’ve done so far was to protect myself. Nothing more.”

  “And exact revenge,” I said. He couldn’t forget about his nonbiological sister. She was the reason he’d come to the city in the first place. She killed his nephew in cold blood, under Tandor’s orders, and he’d come to avenge the boy. It was a fairly noble reason, if he hadn’t used me in the process.

  “Yes.”

  I leaned forward in my seat. Morning would be upon us in less than an hour, judging by the sky. It was hard to notice the subtle brightening, as it never got very light, but having lived here for the last twenty-seven years, and making it my business to know, I was pretty good at judging the time between day and night.

  The city was outlined in stark contrast to everything around it, broken and battered, the buildings arrayed on the horizon like a line of chipped teeth, angular and sharp, in danger of causing harm if you weren’t careful. The clouds were misting less than a full drizzle. It was unusual for the rain to be this light, but I wasn’t complaining.

  Instead of going straight into the city, my plan was to land just outside, by our rarely used east entrance. Not so rare, since I’d used it the other day with Case, but obsolete enough. There was no reason to go in if my crew wasn’t around. If I failed to get a hold of them, finding them would be my new number-one problem to solve.

  Dropping altitude, I maneuvered closer, nudging the craft east. Case and I rode in silence. My brain whirled with the implications of Tandor’s men in charge of Port Station. If they’d taken over that area—and no gossip had leaked—something major was happening or about to happen. It was hard to believe the threat of Plush was enough to keep the masses silent, but being forced to become a seeker would carry some terrifying consequences.

  Logically, it had to be more than that. We just had to figure out what the threat was. I was confident the quantum drive would hold some answers.

  There was no use blindfolding Case this time. We were beyond that. If there was another betrayal, someone’s life would end.

  Finally reaching our destination, I punched Luce’s landing gear, setting her down thirty meters outside the entrance behind a copse of dead, gnarled trees. I kept her running as I pulled out a tech phone. “Jerry, it’s Ella.” I prayed that Lockland would pick up. I needed something, some nugget of information that told me they were okay.

  Nothing.

  I tried again. “Jerry, come in. Hoping to meet for breakfast.” I nudged Case with my arm, gesturing to the compartment in front of him. He obliged, opening it. I tried again, depressing the button on the side. “Johnny, are you there?” I leaned over and grabbed out the static wand I kept in there, flicking a switch on the side to turn it on as I powered down my dashboard, cutting off all radio transmissions Luce produced herself.

  The tip of the wand glowed a warm yellow, indicating it was working. It would blink if it picked up any signaling radio waves. I swiped the stick around the dash. When it got close to my tech phone, it began to blink.

  I tucked the phone in a vest pocket and stuck the wand down by my feet.

  “If they put a tracker on Luce, it’s likely in the battery compartment,” Case said.

  I nodded, but refrained from commenting duh, as I took the phone back out and set it to a new channel, one of our other private bandwidths. We had four. I depressed the button as I opened Luce’s door, stepping out onto the wet, puddled ground. “It’s Kate. Wondering if anyone’s out there?”

  While I waited for a response, I waved the wand around the craft, popping the battery compartment to give it a thorough sweep. It was clean. But as I rounded the back and swept up under the storage area, the light began to flicker.

  Leaning over, I spotted the culprit.

  I picked the tracker off the bottom, where it had been secured magnetically, and dropped it on the ground. It made a satisfying crack as I ground my heel into it.

  If they hadn’t placed a tracker on Luce, it would’ve been negligence on their part. The question was, had they placed more trackers that operated on other frequencies? Longwave frequency was the only thing that could filter through our iron-heavy air reliably. But shortwave high frequency in compact bursts could work, although the connection was always spotty and unreliable.

  I clicked the button on the wand down a notch, and the light at the end of the stick glowed blue. Then I proceeded to search the craft again. Once I got close to the battery compartment, it began to flicker. I tucked my tech phone into a vest pocket as I hefted the lid back up.

  Case joined me in front as I ran the static wand over the motor. I wasn’t extremely familiar with high-frequency trackers, so I wasn’t certain what to look for. I’d seen only a few before, and they came in all different shapes and sizes.

  We both bent over as the wand located the monitor by blinking without ceasing. This one was bigger than the one I’d just crushed beneath my boot and a strange color—charcoal with an amber hue. I’d reached in to grab it when Case stilled my arm, his grip like a vise. “It looks rigged.”

  I glanced at him, surprised. “Have you used high-frequency trackers before?”

  “Not myself, but I’ve seen more than a few of them. This one is bigger than it should be.” Larger could mean it contained condensed hydrogen, like the nano-carbon cubes I used.

  Once dislodged, it could blow.

  “If we don’t get rid of it, they track us. There’s a possibility they have better high-frequency-monitoring tech than we do. I don’t know that much about Port Station and what advances they’ve made in the last twenty years. That town is not good at sharing.” I was going to make it my business to learn more once this was all finished.

  “We’re going to interrupt it. Do you have a jammer on you?”

  “Of course.” I reached into an internal pocket and pulled out a jammer. It was roughly the size of a fingernail and magnetic. I’d used this on Case’s craft so it couldn’t record our flight directions. Jammers interrupted radio signals, but as far as I knew, they didn’t work on broadcast signals, only local ones within the craft itself. I handed it to him. “It won’t stop that thing from transmitting a frequency that they’re tuned in to.”

  He leaned over and stuck the jammer next to the tracker. “No, it won’t, but it should alter the frequency just enough to make it almost impossible to track or detonate remotely. Add that to the inconsistency of high frequency, and we should be safe.”

  “Safe is a relative term.” I didn’t like knowing it was in there, because if it was also a hydro-bomb, it could go off on its own. “Bender wi
ll have to take a look at it once he gets back. He’ll be able to get it out of there.”

  Speaking of Bender, where the hell were they?

  My tech phone went off.

  I scrambled to get it out of my vest. “Kate, it’s Larry.” Lockland’s voice came through the speaker. “Found our quest. Entering the area.”

  They’d been out of range that long? The “area” was how we defined our communication zone.

  There wasn’t much out there. The government did have a few secret locations where they conducted interviews and such. My best guess was that Darby had been held in one of those spots. But I wasn’t going to ask now, nor was Lockland going to divulge anything like that over the airwaves.

  “Sounds good. I’ll be ready in three,” I said. “I’m planning on bringing Rennie and a few presents for Don’s birthday.” I was letting them know that I’d gotten Luce and the quantum drive back and that I would bring Daze with me in three hours. The real surprise would be the pico. “I’ll hit you when I’m close.”

  “Excellent. See you then.” He signed off, and the phone went dark. No static indicated he’d turned it off on his end. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but the relief I felt knowing they were okay was immense. They had Darby, and they would’ve mentioned Claire if there were any issues, so my family was safe.

  At least for the time being.

  They had no idea that my residence had been blown up, or that most likely Tandor’s men had taken over Port Station and were infecting people with Plush. There would be a lot to sort out in a few hours.

  It was time to head back to the barracks and pick up Daze. I hoped the kid knew what he was talking about when it came to the pico.

  Walking around the craft to the pilot’s side, I got in. Once Case was secured, I took off, spinning Luce around so she was heading toward the sea. “When we get back, I want you to get rid of all your voice amplifiers and whatever else you have lying around the bunker until Daze’s done with his treatments. No more breaches of trust.”

  Case turned toward me, giving me a rare grin. “Does that mean you’re starting to trust me?”

  “Hell, no.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The pico was propped open on the tech table in front of Daze. I sat next to him, Case stood behind. The kid tapped a bunch of buttons, but nothing happened. He fidgeted in his seat, his face drawn. “The battery is dead,” he said. “It won’t turn on.”

  “Are you sure?” I reached over and pressed what looked to be the power key, which was big and green. I gave it a few taps, including holding it down. He was right, it was dead. The helium batteries designed for these things were supposed to last for years. As far as I knew, they weren’t replaceable, as they were integrated into the unit.

  Pre-dark days, technology had changed at a rapid rate. In order to keep up with the next new thing, you didn’t replace batteries, you bought the next superfast computer. Data readers came in all shapes and sizes and had been an everyday necessity for humans. Contrary to the pico sitting in front of us, which was priceless because we couldn’t go out and get another one, a computer back in the day had cost less than a subscription to your favorite media channel.

  The quantum drive lay forlorn on the table next to the pico, containing a massive amount of information ripe for the taking, but we couldn’t get to it because of a dead battery.

  “Does this computer have charging capabilities? If the battery is just dead, and not spent, it should work if we can get power to it.” Case leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of the couch. “Most computers before the dark days had integrated charging, especially the quality ones. I would think a pico, which was dedicated to reading a quantum drive, would have one. Some of them even had solar capabilities, but I don’t see any of the telltale squares molded into the top.”

  Daze shrugged. “I don’t know. All I ever did was play around on it.”

  I picked up the computer and turned it over in my hands. It was light and easy to handle. “What am I looking for? There are slots on the sides, but nothing looks like it connects to a power source.”

  “Hand it to me,” Case said.

  I gave it to him, growling, “If anything happens to it, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  Case snorted as he flipped it over, running his fingers along the bottom. “Before the dark days, if you didn’t have access to an open-air recharge system, you used a charging pad. They were integrated into furniture and counters, so they didn’t take up excess space. By the end of the NewGen era, they only needed to be a few atoms thick to work.”

  “That’s great,” I said, glancing around, “but where are we going to get a NewGen era charging pad? I’m a salvager and I’ve never seen one.”

  “Like I said, they were mostly built into furniture.” Case walked around the couch into the kitchen area. He set the pico down and began to run his hands over the countertop.

  I joined him. “Would one of these charging surfaces actually be obvious to the touch?”

  “Not sure,” Case said. “But I think the surface above the charger would feel a little different, possibly scuffed from wear. This was a working barracks. The soldiers in here would need to charge their tech.”

  Both of our hands swept the surface, but I didn’t feel anything different.

  An excited squeal erupted behind us. Daze had knelt next to the tech table, his arms spread wide over the surface. “I think I found a couple places. One of them has a bunch of marks on it.” His head was tilted almost horizontal to the thing.

  We walked over, Case bending over to investigate. “You might be right.”

  “Super,” I said. “But the tech table isn’t operational, is it?”

  “It could be. I never bothered to try to turn it on.” Case paced to the wall by the entrance that held a bunch of switches. He began to flip them. A couple lights blinked on in one corner. One initiated a fan somewhere in the back. But the tech table stayed dark.

  Undeterred, he headed to a patch of wall where a shelving unit sat, stacked with obsolete cooking utensils and a bunch of random boxes. He shouldered the thing out of the way with a loud grating sound, the items bouncing around.

  The uncovered wall revealed another row of switches.

  One by one, Case flipped them on. When he hit the very last one, the tech table sprang to life.

  Daze and I both clapped our hands. I couldn’t help it. It was such a relief. Blue and red lights flickered as some welcoming words flashed across the screen. This table would’ve been used to make military plans. Maps and essential information would’ve been hardwired into its memory, all paired with adaptive 3-D hologram capability. The images would’ve been displayed above the table. It’d probably been a gathering place in the barracks.

  Case set the pico on the scuffed area Daze had found. “I’m not sure how long it will take.”

  “I’ll stay here and wait until it powers on.” Daze’s voice was filled with excitement as he plunked down, crossing his arms on the table, his chin resting on top, his eyes focused on the pico like a pair of amber lasers. I had no doubt he’d stay like that for hours if need be. Or until something else caught his attention.

  “Have you been in the medi-pod lately?” I asked. “We’re taking off as soon as that thing powers up, so now’s the time.”

  A frown formed as he claimed, “I feel better. I don’t need that thing anymore. Everything is fixed. See?” He moved his arm up and down and rapped his knuckles on his chest.

  “Sorry, kid,” I said, my hand dipping down to tousle his hair. “I understand the allure of waiting for the pico to power on, but if you don’t use the medi-pod until the treatment’s done, you won’t feel better anymore. Your vitamin D levels were extremely low, and your broken bones might feel pain-free now, but they’re not fully healed. They could easily break again. Come on, let’s go. When you’re done, the pico will be ready, and I promise we’ll wait until you’re back to turn it on.”

  R
eluctantly—like the kid had iron pellets stuffed in his pockets—he stood and shuffled like a prisoner toward the back of the barracks. I placed my hand on his shoulder as we walked. “After we figure out what’s on the quantum drive, we’re heading to Bender’s to fill everyone in. They’re going to be pumped to hear what we find.”

  “Oh,” he said glumly.

  I picked up on his despondent tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “They don’t like me anymore. I lied to everyone.”

  I opened the lid of the medi-pod, and he crawled inside. Once he was situated, I said, “They like you just fine. I gave them your apology, and you can back it up when we get there. You had to do what you had to do to survive. That’s the name of the game. In the end, you tried to sacrifice yourself to save us. That’s huge.” He looked unsure, so I added, “Bender has a gift for you.”

  His face brightened. “What?”

  “I can’t tell you, but it starts with a W.”

  “Is it a weapon?” His voice was hopeful. “I bet it’s a weapon.”

  “I’m not about to ruin the surprise. Bender would kill me.” I lowered the lid. “Stay in here until it beeps. No excuses.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled.

  I made sure the display blinked with the patient number he’d been assigned with his diagnosis, and then I pressed the button labeled Heal. The outer shell of the pod began to spin. Once I was satisfied it was working, I made my way back to Case, who sat in front of the pico. I took a seat across from him. “Has it powered on yet?”

  His helmet was off, his brow drawn. “No.”

  “You know, Case,”—I settled back on the couch, crossing my legs—“I’m not sure how we move on from here. I still don’t trust you. Letting you see what’s on the quantum drive”—I nodded toward the pico, which was hopefully charging, getting ready to unleash its secrets—“puts me in a precarious position with my friends. I realize you helped me get the computer and break Luce out of Port Station. You gave me back my Gem and found a way to jam the tracker. But that doesn’t make you an ally. There could be some very sensitive things on that drive, and if you happen to be working for the other side, the advantage I just gained by retrieving that prize is gone.”