Lockland moved toward the door of the room we were in. “Will do. I’m heading out first. If I encounter any UACs, I’ll send out an alert. Keep your phones close for an update.” Then he disappeared through the opening.
Darby, Daze, and I had arrived in Luce. Bender, Case, and Lockland had each taken their own crafts. Bender had begun pulling things in front of the hole to prevent anyone else from discovering the medi-pod. Case joined in.
“Can you handle this by yourselves?” I asked.
“What do you think?” Bender grunted.
“Just trying to be polite,” I said. “I’m taking Darby and Daze back to the Emporium to check on Mary, and then I’m heading to my place in the canals to get some sleep.” It’d been a long day. By the time we arrived back in the city, it would be the beginning of blackout. “We rendezvous in the morning at the Emporium.” It’d become our new headquarters of sorts, especially since Bender’s place was being monitored by UACs.
Case grabbed some broken shelving units, sliding them in front of the other stuff. The hole was almost covered. “We’re almost done here.”
“I’ll take this with us.” I hefted up the box full of salvageable parts Darby had pulled from the medi-pod, then the three of us headed out the door and down the hallway.
Once outside, Darby and Daze headed to the passenger side of Luce and got in. I opened the pilot side and handed the box into the backseat to Daze. “I’m halfway through Roman’s notes,” Darby told me as he strapped himself in. “I’m hoping to find something more valuable than historical data and locations, but so far that’s all there is.”
“I’m sure the kid can help you,” I said, starting Luce up, my toe in the failsafe position under the front of the dash. Her props sputtered to life. “How about you spend the night with Darby?” I glanced over my shoulder at Daze. “Then you can both go over those notes together. You can sleep on one of the pallets there.” Having some alone time suddenly sounded extremely nice. Up until becoming Daze’s sustainer, I’d spent most of my time alone. Lately, not so much. It would be nice to have a break.
Daze nodded eagerly. “I like Darby’s lab. It’s fun there.”
“Perfect,” I said.
Maisie’s voice came out of Daze’s pocket as I lofted Luce into the air. “I detect no humans or unidentifiable crafts in the area.” Maisie had learned that upon takeoff, we always asked her for stats. Now she provided them on her own, which was helpful.
“Thanks, Maisie,” I said. “I appreciate the update.”
“I enjoy being helpful,” she replied. “Rain is falling. It is fifteen degrees Celsius. It’s advisable to bring an umbrella. Helmets may be insufficient.”
Darby chuckled. “I think she’s developing a sense of humor. Whoever wrote this program was brilliant. Her adaptations and quirks are becoming more personalized each day.”
“I’m not sure I can handle an inanimate polymer egg cracking jokes all the time,” I said as I checked the gauges on the dash. I trusted Maisie, but growing dependent on an object that could break, shatter, or cease to exist at any time wasn’t advisable. “Do you think all status readers share the same software?”
“I’m not really sure,” Darby answered. “But I wouldn’t assume so. There had to be hierarchies. In the marketplace, they probably priced them according to how specialized and intricate their systems were. If this is a military-grade status reader, it probably has the very best software available at the time. Honestly, Lockland was incredibly lucky to find it. I still can’t believe we have one.”
Daze positioned himself between the two front seats, his face jutting through. “I don’t think it was luck.”
“Why not?” I asked, scanning the sky. My tech phone hadn’t made any noise, which was good. We’d all agreed to reenter the city from different directions. I didn’t usually come in over the water south of the canals, but I was going to attempt it today. Flying with Case had gotten me used to being over the sea. This wasn’t open ocean. I could handle it.
“I mean, it was lucky he found it,” Daze clarified. “A salvage like that is always amazing.” He was certainly right about that. “But I’m pretty sure military-grade status readers were the only ones that could’ve survived this long. Regular status eggs were made with a more brittle polymer and had no protective coating. At least, that’s what it said on my dad’s pico.”
“I bet someone would know that for sure,” I said. “Have you asked Maisie?”
The kid’s face fell as his expression turned to wonder. “I didn’t think of that.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m right there with you. It’s going to take us some time to get used to having a full data bank of information whenever we need it.” Daze slid into the backseat, murmuring to Maisie. I turned to Darby. “How is Mary doing?”
I’d checked on her every day since we’d returned. Ned was a constant, thank goodness, hovering over her, feeding her, and making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Keeping her ankles and wrists secured sucked, but it was still necessary.
“Her situation is worsening. I know you’re against it, but I really think we should give her some Plush.” Darby had recovered a few doses from the lab where he’d worked for Tandor. They hadn’t manufactured it there, but they’d used it as a baseline when he’d thought he was involved in finding a chemical cure. I wasn’t interested in giving Mary more of the drug, and we’d gotten into a few arguments over it already.
He held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out. Her DNA is already damaged. Giving her the drug would calm her down and let her body finally get some rest. Continuing to live in this heightened state is going to harm her. She doesn’t sleep much, and Ned has a hard time feeding her. It seems like it’s the most humane thing we can do, and it might give her a greater chance of survival in the long run. Her body is wearing out, Hol. We have to do something.”
“I understand,” I said. “You’ve explained it all before. But we’re so close to finding a working medi-pod.” At least, I hoped we were. “Giving her more Plush now risks altering her DNA even more.”
Darby nodded. “It might, but not having it is doing equal—if not greater—damage. There’s a reason why the government continued to provide addicts with Plush. It kept the seekers as sane as they could be. She’s just short of losing her mind completely, which a medi-pod won’t be able to put back together.”
I sighed. “Okay, okay. But give her a small dose and monitor her throughout the night.”
“I will,” he said. “It’s the right thing to do. Even though I know it’s a hard choice.”
I banked Luce to the east, beginning the first turn that would take us over the water, hitting the canals from the south. Still no sign of anything in the air. “I don’t trust these new UACs,” I muttered. “They’re sneaky. Even if they’re not in the sky, they could be parked on top of a building, recording us.”
Three separate beeps sounded at once.
All of our tech phones were going off.
Shit.
Darby withdrew his. Lockland’s voice came through the speaker. “It’s Larry. I’m running an errand,” he said. “Picking up something from nine. See you in the morning at Mary’s house.”
“Dammit,” I muttered. That meant he’d picked up a UAC, likely outside his residence. He was telling us he was heading to safe house number nine for the night. “Mary’s house” was the Emporium.
Before Darby could respond, Lockland continued, “I’ll bring you something back. Talk later.” The phone went dark, meaning he’d shut off the connection on his end so we wouldn’t reply.
“What did he mean by ‘bring you something back’?” Daze asked, scooting between the seats again.
“He was telling us that he can handle this on his own,” I said. “‘I’ll bring something back’ means you got it covered. If you need backup, you tell us to bring something—like, ‘Meet me at nine and bring a protein cake.’ And if it’s a huge emergency and you nee
d immediate assistance, you tell us something has already been delivered—like, ‘I’m at nine, and there’s a box on the doorstep.’”
“Cool,” Daze said. “I think somebody would have a hard time understanding what you meant if they didn’t know the code.”
“That’s the point, kid.” I chuckled as we began soaring over water. The sea was roiling with two-to-three-meter swells, nothing like the open ocean. Even though it was tamer, I certainly wouldn’t want to crash in it.
“The meaning is twisted enough,” he said, “but not too much. If anyone was listening, they would think it was much more complicated than it actually is.”
“You’re right. It’s not exactly a code. It’s more of a language—one that we don’t even specify much anymore because we’re so used to it. If Lockland chose different words, but articulated it in the same way, I would understand him. After all our years together, our original code has morphed into something more nuanced. I’m sure you’ll pick it up soon.”
Daze bobbed his head up and down. “I think I already have. After all, we’ve spent a lot of time together in the last few weeks.”
“Yes, we have,” I said. And that’s why a sleepover with Darby is such an excellent idea.
CHAPTER FOUR
I exited my cleaning stall feeling halfway decent and, for the first time in a long while, hopeful there might be a possibility of working my way back to my normal self—if normal was possible again. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, my mind constantly churned through everything, weighing all the pros and cons, trying to formulate plans necessary to save my crew and the inhabitants of this city, never getting much of a break. It kept me in a constant state of alertness.
A peaceful night in my sleeping pod would revitalize me further, especially since I was finally clean. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like, but damn, it was nice.
I padded over to an integrated drawer and pulled out a fabric T-shirt that was so worn it was almost see-through in some places, making it exquisitely soft, and a pair of shorts of the same material. The material was so old, I didn’t even have a name for what it was. I’d salvaged them both a long time ago.
Slipping them on, I sighed, pulling my semidry hair out of the collar, letting it fall around my shoulders. These had been called pajamas once upon a time. My ancestors had had the luxury of wearing different clothes to sleep in, a different pair each night. The idea was absurd. My mother had loved wearing them. I distinctly remember the look of glee on her face when we would stumble on them during our salvages together. My mother had not been an expert salvager, by any means, never venturing into a space that was compromising, but she’d taught me enough. And sometimes we’d gotten lucky.
Glancing down, I smoothed the fabric, enjoying how it felt under my gloveless hands. It was a rarity to relax, especially in this heightened climate, but there was a high probability I wouldn’t see a night like this for months, so I planned to enjoy it.
It was a little cold with my arms and legs exposed, but I’d trade a little temperature discomfort for the softness against my skin. I made my way into the living area, picking a bag of protein flakes off the counter where Daze had stacked them, missing Walt’s bio-printed food, my mouth immediately salivating as I thought about his delicious cupcakes.
Tasting them had brought new meaning to the way I viewed what I put in my mouth. It had been revolutionary, and I couldn’t wait to get the scientists back here so we could have food like that to eat every day.
Using an ultrasonic whisk, I busied myself heating up water and pouring it into the bag, idly spooning the meal into my mouth as my brain began replaying everything we had to do moving forward. I finished the tasteless protein mush in a few bites and threw the pouch into my grinder, listening to the slow whir of the motor as it tore up the packaging.
Once upon a time, the grinder would’ve separated things on a molecular level. Everything in this building had been recycled and reused—water, garbage, and waste—flushed down pipes to the bottom level, where huge bins collected the contents and continued the separation process, filtering everything based on weight and chemical composition, sending it to their new destinations to be consumed again, in a seemingly never-ending process. My building was one of the many megascrapers that had dotted the city skyline, providing the texture and flow of this massive, bustling metropolis. Every megascraper built in the last hundred years had been self-sufficient, meant to last into the next century or longer. Too bad they hadn’t been built to withstand unforeseen titanic events.
Just as I was turning off the lights, one of my alarms sounded, the red light by my front door beginning to flicker.
Someone was trying to get in.
“Hell.” I rushed down the hall, plucking up my Gem from the shelf by the door. The blinking red light meant that whoever was here was on my balcony, where my E-unit was located. I had a bunch of traps set, so the likelihood of anyone getting this far should have been low.
I slapped my palm against the heat sensor. The door popped open and I entered the hallway, my back flat against the wall, my hand wrapped around my weapon, my elbows tucked close to my body.
It took me less than thirty seconds to arrive at the entrance that led to my balcony. I stopped, listening. No sound, and none of my other alarms had been tripped. Nor had there been an explosion, followed by howls of pain.
I waited a full three minutes. Nothing. No noise and no pattering from the roof above me. All was quiet. “If somebody’s playing a trick on me, they’re willing to pay a pretty high price,” I muttered as I moved forward, throwing the inside bolt and easing the door open, standing to the side, ducking my head around the jamb.
All clear.
That meant nobody had tried to open the door to my balcony into this small entryway. If they had, they would’ve been blown up. That also meant that whoever was out there was likely still there. As I crept forward, I recognized that there was a slight possibility my laser alarm had been trigged by falling debris, but that was doubtful.
It’d never happened before, though there was always a first time.
My balcony was fifty-something stories up, so there were limited ways to get here. Whoever was out there would’ve had to have used a craft and then rappelled down from the roof, or used the cable swing connected to the building next door, which was hidden fairly well.
The craft was out, because I would’ve heard the landing above me, so it had to be the cable swing.
Stopping just before the door that would lead me to my prey, I rested my helmetless head against the wall. I wore my ridiculous pajamas—I hadn’t had time to change—no helmet, no synthetic leather, just me, my soft T-shirt and shorts, bare feet, and semiwet hair. It felt strange. I didn’t have any amplifiers set up on the balcony, so my listening wouldn’t be foolproof.
No sound came from inside that I could detect.
I slid my hand just above the lever, placing my palm firmly against the cold metal. Once the heat sensor engaged, a small click sounded. Whoever was on the other side would have heard it if they were listening carefully.
At this point, I could announce myself, or I could just whip open the door, hoping to take them by surprise.
I decided to go with the whip-open-the-door plan.
Once it swung wide, I pivoted in front, extending my arms, my Gem out, a don’t fuck with me expression firmly planted in place. “Don’t move if you plan on living,” I announced in a low, gravelly tone meant to convey anger and incite fear. It took me only a second to see who it was. I lowered my weapon. “What the hell are you doing out here, Case? You just came precariously close to dying.”
The outskirt was perched on the edge of my balcony, body angled back, posture relaxed, arms crossed, like he had just dropped in for a visit.
He stood. “I didn’t have enough battery power in my craft to make it back to the barracks,” he said by way of explanation. “So I came here.” He shrugged.
I shouldn’t be
surprised.
Case was nothing but unpredictable. I had a few options, one of which was not letting him in and forcing him to sleep in his craft, which sounded tempting, but I wasn’t a monster. Since he was already here, and clearly knew this was my residence, I might as well let him in.
Sighing, I gestured toward two of my traps on the ground near the door. “Step over those and follow what I do exactly.” Once we were in the hallway, I shut the door, placing my hand on the sensor to trigger the connection. I moved ahead. “Stay in the middle, don’t bump into any walls.” He followed without comment. Out in the main hallway, I tossed over my shoulder, “Close that door behind you and turn your back.” Even though I was about to bring him into my home, he wasn’t going to see how I unlocked my door. “Honestly, Case, what were you thinking?” I muttered, half under my breath, half not. “We have phones for these kinds of things. Why risk landing on my balcony unannounced and blowing yourself up?” The door opened, and I went inside, not waiting for him to catch up.
He ducked through a moment later, a second before the door would’ve latched and he would’ve spent the night in the hallway. “I don’t have a handle,” he replied as he made his way into my personal space. “The plan was to take my craft to the barracks after stopping at the Emporium, but the battery light went red in the air. This was the closest destination.” He glanced around. “Nice place.”
I grunted as I set my Gem back on the shelf. “It is.” I moved toward my living area and leaned into the doorjamb, crossing my arms, partly to try to conceal the fact that I wore a pair of threadbare pajamas—which was next to impossible to hide, as my legs and arms were completely exposed—and partly because I was irritated. “And I’d like to keep it that way. So, just to make sure we share a similar understanding, you’re not going to blow this place up once you leave, right?” The thought had crossed my mind.
Danger's Cure: (Holly Danger Book 4) Page 3
