“Are you all right?” she called over the wind.
He ignored her, and she wished again that they were in a hopper as the ground beneath them grew even rougher, jolting her in the seat. She realized they had come off the road entirely and were driving on barren earth.
“Where are we going?” she asked. In the dim predawn light she couldn’t get her bearings.
“Should find the contact near here, to get you across the border,” he said at last. “Once you’re in Colombia the cops won’t follow you.”
His voice was steady, but he sat stiffly beside her, his hands tight claws on the wheel.
“And what about you?”
He said nothing. Shooting that man had shaken him to the core, but she couldn’t help him if he wouldn’t talk to her. She wished they had more time, but he’d said she wasn’t safe until she was over the border.
What he’d done back there made her realize how different he was from other clones. She didn’t know what had happened to Express, what had made him so different, but she couldn’t see him as the same as the mindless drones who used to ferry her about and do what they were told, and only what they were told. She wasn’t like them either, so maybe she was like him. Maybe they were some new type of clone, a step closer to humanity. If she could have more time with him, maybe she could figure it out.
The three-quarters Moon was setting as they reached the tunnel. Express continued on into the cavernous blackness at high speed, the roar of the engine growing thunderous. The las headlights brightened to compensate for the darkness until Express deliberately turned them off.
“What are you doing? Turn that back on. And slow down!” she shouted. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
“Safest way through is fast,” he called back.
Light appeared at the end of the tunnel, but it was too blue to be daylight. Express sped up as they passed through an interchange where a group of disenfrancistos had rigged floodlights to create artificial daylight for their temporary camp. Express tore through it all, and she turned to see a couple of groundbikes on their tail, engines buzzing.
“Go faster!” she shouted, but Express didn’t respond.
She desperately tried to recall the rush of a chase scene, to turn her fear into excitement, but she couldn’t force it. All she could do was grip the seat and watch the lights over her shoulder until they grew smaller and disappeared.
“Who the hell were they?” she asked, once she was satisfied the danger was far behind.
“These are smuggling tunnels, built by Los Scorpiones. Don’t get used much anymore; mostly they’re just home to small-time criminal gangs, or the desperate. Told you, best way through is fast.”
Another light lay ahead, and she focused all her attention on it, willing it to be daylight. It turned out to be another floodlight, but this time a single figure stood silhouetted in front of the light.
They didn’t slow down as they approached, and she thought they were going to drive on past, but Express braked hard and they stopped close enough for the figure to lean against his door. She took a deep breath as the noise of the engine shrank to a purr, but the air was hot and tasted foul.
The woman leering down at them was a patchwork of old and new parts, of organic and mechanical. Her silver hair was fashionably cut, her face youthful, and her wrinkled hands sported perfect, manicured nails. She wore a skeletal, metallic glove on one hand, while the other held a roll-up.
“Took your sweet time,” she said, and took a drag.
“Didn’t want to bring along any unexpected company, Maria,” Express said.
“I was expecting you yesterday.” The smoke she blew over them had the earthy smell of a homegrown narcotic. It made her feel nauseated, but she didn’t complain, just wrinkled her nose.
“You got many escapees we’re keeping waiting?” Express asked.
Maria grinned, showing teeth in sore need of renovation, and then hoisted herself awkwardly into the backseat. The car rocked with her movements.
“All right, Express, you remember the way?”
He just nodded and drove on, still with the lights off. She kept her worries to herself.
Once they were in complete darkness, the floodlight far behind, Express stopped and turned off the engine. Her ears felt strange, like she was underwater. She wondered if the echoing engine noise had caused permanent damage.
“Time to go,” Express said, and he pressed something square into Randi’s hand.
“What is it?”
“A PAD. Thought you could use it, in your new life. Just don’t turn it on until you’re across the border; this stretch of tunnels isn’t supposed to exist. When you get to ChiLo, you can get a new ID, and you’ll be all set.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. She would be part of the world again, even if she did have to use a new name. The PAD’s casing was smooth and slightly warm; she wondered if Express had been carrying it next to his skin. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing.” He said it quietly, and she decided not to press the question. It didn’t matter where he had found the PAD: it was hers now.
“I can ping you when I get there,” she said.
“Just don’t turn it on yet,” Maria snapped impatiently. She had almost forgotten the woman was there, listening. She had wanted to say more.
The car rocked as Maria clambered out, and she jumped as a wrinkled hand took hold of her own. Of course, Maria probably had eyes that could see just fine in the dark. No doubt Express’s eyes were the same. She wondered if he’d miss her, or was she still just another job? He must have thought about her, though, or he wouldn’t have given her the PAD.
“Come on,” Maria said, pulling her out of the groundcar.
“Am I walking to ChiLo?” she asked, trying to hide her fear.
“Here, get in.” The woman put her hand on something soft and near the ground. “It’s a seat. Get in it.”
She maneuvered into the seat and forced herself to stretch out her legs inside a confined space she could not see. She couldn’t think of a role that would help her; she was cramped, exhausted, and afraid—who’d want to experience that?
“Express?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you come to ChiLo? The cops know where you live, right? You could get a new start too.”
“I’ll figure it out,” he said. “Back in NA.”
A part of her deflated, her chest feeling like it was punched. “Well then, wish me luck,” she managed.
“Good luck, Randi,” Express said.
“Don’t worry,” said Maria’s grating voice. “Just sit still.” At last, some light, as tiny blue LEDs on the woman’s hand lit up. They weren’t enough to see by, but Randi couldn’t take her eyes from them. “Let’s get you on your way,” Maria said, grunting as she heaved their ride forward, then clambered in behind her. She shifted as far forward as she could, but the woman’s bony knees still dug painfully into her back.
“Express…” She began quietly, and stopped. How could she persuade him? She had been determined to escape him for most of their journey, and suddenly she didn’t want to leave. She wanted him to be the one to lead her through the darkness, not this stranger.
“Goodbye Randi,” he said, and the groundcar’s engine coughed itself awake.
She clutched her new PAD and tried to think positive.
Her ride began to move. The blue LEDs flashed beside her as her new guide waved her hand about, and Randi closed her eyes.
When they emerged at last, it was to the soft light of morning. Randi shivered, looking up to catch sight of the pastel clouds through the trees. The track ended abruptly, knocking Randi back into Maria, prompting a curse. There were crates and boxes in a heap nearby, and machinery purred somewhere through the trees.
Randi scrambled out unsteadily, checking her PAD. She had a connection, and a location. She was part of the world again. She could ping Express, tell him she had reached Colombia safely.
/>
Maria plucked the PAD from her hands.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Too soon for that, my girl,” she said, pocketing the device. “Come on.”
She took hold of Randi’s wrist and pulled her to the boxes. Randi watched in confusion as the woman rummaged through the boxes and selected a large crate.
“There, get in.”
“No way am I going to sit in there,” Randi said. “I’m across the border. I don’t have to hide anymore.”
“No more special treatment, clone,” Maria said. “You’re a long way from your friends. Now, get in the box.”
“But Express said…”
Maria reached out and jabbed Randi’s arm with the sharp metal at the end of one finger. Randi felt a jolt like she’d been punched, and blacked out.
“If you had followed proper procedure, you would have informed me you were leaving New Angeles,” Commissioner Dawn said, frowning at Caprice from the twodee image on her PAD. “I could have arranged for Ecuadoran backup.”
“I apologize, Commissioner,” Caprice said. “We were in hot pursuit of a suspect, but we did not anticipate any danger we could not handle. The third party was…unexpected.”
“Danger you couldn’t handle? That’s Tomson talking,” Dawn’s lip twitched in the corner.
“In our defense, we were in pursuit of a clone,” she said.
“A suspect, you said,” the commissioner countered. “Either way, the only evidence we have is with you at the hospital. I expect you have already bagged the dart?”
“No, but the body at the scene…”
“The officers sent to the motel found nothing, Nisei. No body, no projectiles, nothing. There’s no seccam footage of you or the assailant. We have nothing.” The commissioner paused. “So I’m hoping you’re going to tell me you captured an image of the John Doe in black, at least.”
“No.” She should have; police procedure, even common sense, should have made her do so. It would have taken only a moment to unmask the man and take a still of his face. She could have been running it through the database while she waited at the hospital, powerless to do anything else. Somehow, getting Bruce the medical attention he required had become her only agenda, had blinded her.
“You’d better hope Tomson wakes up, Detective,” the commissioner said. “Let me know as soon as there’s any change. I want you both back here as soon as he can travel.” The commissioner broke the connection before Caprice could reply.
Caprice returned to her seat outside Bruce’s room. She hadn’t seen him since she’d handed him into the care of the hospital staff and begun her vigil outside her partner’s door. His injury was on her conscience, and since working in close proximity to Bruce, she had developed a strange attachment to him. At the very least, he was a human, and it was her duty to safeguard his life. The commissioner evidently agreed, or she would have recalled Caprice at once.
She wanted to pace, but forced herself to sit still, because every movement echoed. The corridor was long and white, and the hospital staff who passed her were shrouded in white too, their faces hidden, their eyes peering curiously at her through clear goggles. She had seen no patients, heard nothing from beyond the smooth white doors.
The place recalled unpleasant images of the recycling facility, which she tried to push aside. This place was about saving life, not ending it. Bruce’s door opened a crack, and her body stiffened. She reached out instinctively.
[…asombroso…]
“Detective?” The doctor stepped out into the corridor. “Your partner is awake, and he’s asking for you.”
“Gracias,” Caprice said, rising to her feet.
He held the door for her and Caprice brushed against him as she passed into the room. She skimmed his thoughts, but discovered only that he planned to look into the drug he’d found in the cop’s bloodstream. She had a feeling his data would disappear before he could do so, but that was not her concern.
Bruce was propped up, half submerged in a bath of fluid not unlike the nutrient-rich liquid Caprice had grown in. The cocktail would be different, designed to heal and repair, but the sight made her think of her sisters in their vats. Their bodies were not that different: clones and natural humans responded to the same enzymes and hormones. His head rested on a white pillow, and a white sheet lay across the transplas at his middle to offer him some privacy, a courtesy never given to a clone.
“Detective Nisei,” Bruce said, smiling as she approached, but he did not raise his head, and she could sense he lacked the will as much as the physical capacity. He felt broken, and defeated.
“I am sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be sorry. From what I gather, you saved my life bringing me here.” His smile faded. “Did we get him?” he asked, but he’d already guessed the answer.
“The Tenma fled the scene.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then fixed them on her. “A part of me wishes you’d stayed in pursuit, rather than saving me. But the rest of me is grateful. I owe you, Nisei.”
“I made the only choice. The commissioner agrees your life matters more.”
“You’ve spoken to Dawn?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She wants to know when you are awake, and she wants us to return to NA as soon as possible.”
“Figures,” Bruce said with a sigh. He shifted in the tank, and the fluid sloshed gently against the transplas. He was a broad man, and his arms pressed uncomfortably against the sides of the tank. Blue spots in lines across his skin marked where tiny implants monitored his vitals. A doctor stood nearby, checking them on a PAD.
[…must get out of here…]
“The commissioner does not want us to move before you are ready,” Caprice said. “You must take time to heal.”
“It’s not the first bullet I’ve taken on the job; I can handle it.”
“It was not a bullet: it was a dart.” Caprice turned to the doctor. “I have been ordered to take the dart back to New Angeles for analysis. It is evidence in a murder case.”
“It has already been passed on to the local police,” the doctor said. “I am sure they will return it to you; I will inform them of your request.”
“Thank you.”
“Detective Tomson,” he continued, turning to his patient. “I will leave you now, but please remain in the bath until told otherwise. The wound is still vulnerable to infection. The dart and its poison caused significant damage to your spinal nerves. You are fortunate we were able to repair it.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Bruce and Caprice spoke at once.
The doctor nodded and left the room, and as the door closed behind him, Bruce laughed.
“Maybe this partner thing could work out after all, Nisei,” he said. “Not only have you saved my life, you’re taking the words right out of my mouth.”
“You would not have needed saving, were it not for my lead.” She dragged a stool closer to the bath and sat beside him.
“What happened out there?” he asked, any trace of humor gone. “It wasn’t the Tenma: it was someone else, an accomplice? I never saw him.”
“A third party intervened. I believe he was Elizabeth Webb’s murderer. He intended to kill the Tenma, but the Tenma killed him, and with him dead…”
“Wait.” Bruce tried to sit up straight, but slipped further into the fluid. “The Tenma killed him? Did you tell Dawn?”
Caprice shook her head. She could feel his thoughts slipping over each other in confusion, and when they settled on her, she had to grip the stool below her to keep from bolting.
“You didn’t lie to the commissioner, did you?”
“I let her assume you took the shot,” she said. “He used your gun. I am sorry, but I did not know how she would react. It would not be good, if people thought clones were capable of such things.”
“I understand,” he said, looking to the door.
[…dangerous for her…]
They sat in silenc
e as Caprice gave her partner time to digest what she had said, and what she had done. She wondered if she should leave him alone, but he did not fear her: he feared for her.
“At least we found Webb’s murderer,” Bruce said.
“But with his body gone, we may never be able to prove it. Or discover whom he worked for.”
“Wait, what do you mean his body’s gone?”
“I alerted the local police to the situation and asked them to contain the crime scene while I took you to the hospital. According to the commissioner, nothing was found: no body and no evidence.”
“Could the Tenma have taken the body?”
“Unlikely.”
“We have to get back there, but the doctors want to keep me for at least another day. Will you go, Nisei? You can see if the local cops missed anything. Maybe someone paid them off.”
Caprice shook her head.
“I believe there was nothing left for them to find.” She paused. Bruce watched her intently. His eyes were shadowed, tired.
[…not telling me…]
“I need to tell the commissioner you are awake. Or would you like to speak to her yourself?” she asked, rising to her feet.
He laughed.
“No thanks, I’ll let you have the pleasure. No, wait.” He lifted one arm out of the tank and reached for her, dripping viscous fluid over the tiled floor. She took his hand and returned to the stool. “Has she pulled us off the case?”
“She only said she wants us back in NA. She did not say she was reassigning the case.”
“I can’t go back, not until I know what’s going on. I’m going to track down that Tenma. Did he take my gun with him?”
“No, I have it.”
“He’s still dangerous, but don’t tell Dawn anything yet. Get in touch with the local precinct—find out what you can about that dart, my dart. I’ll sweet-talk the nurses here and get released so we can chase that Tenma down and get some answers. When Dawn gets wind of us, I’ll tell her I need to take some time off, recovery time. I’ll say you’ve been called to Jinteki for something or other.”
Exodus Page 8
