Fugitive X
Page 18
“Grennel, wait!” said Captain Clay. Grennel lowered his rifle. Kevin let out his held breath explosively. “Interesting,” she said. “Potentially useful. Looks like you’ve lived to see another day, Kevin. You’re coming with me.”
CHAPTER 38
THE REBELS MOVED EAST, PUTTING SOME DISTANCE BETWEEN THEMSELVES and their latest battle. Nick and Cass and Lexi helped Farryn, propping him up between them as he hobbled along. Cass was worried. Farryn was beginning to look feverish. He couldn’t keep up even their slow pace for very much longer.
After a few miles, just when Cass could see that Farryn was near the end of his strength, Ro thankfully called a halt. “This’ll have to do,” announced Ro. “Make camp, set up perimeter guards.” He paused. “Comm just came through. We’re rendezvousing with the Commander at this spot.”
A nervous buzz rippled through the rebels. “The Commander?” Cass heard a woman whisper to the man next to her. “Have you ever met the Commander?”
The man shook his head no. “Guess there’s a time for everything,” he said.
Farryn sagged down, suddenly unable to help support his weight, and Nick and Cass eased him to the ground. “Medic!” called Cass.
The medic came over. She squatted and looked at Farryn appraisingly as he lay on the ground, eyes closed, panting.
“Fever came up faster than I was hoping,” she said. “Must be starting sepsis already, despite the antibiotic booster.” She sighed and looked up at Cass. “The leg has to come off, today, if he’s gonna have a chance.”
Cass felt her heart pounding hard. She took a moment to take a deep breath, then said, “What can I do? Will you need help?”
The medic raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Yep. If you can stomach it. I’ll set up my tent. At least that’ll be more sterile than the dirt ground.” She stood and walked away.
Cass got onto her knees next to Farryn and looked down at his red, sweating face and thought, He’s going to die. She felt something building up inside, a pressure, a panic, like a wave; it was choking her and she felt like she was going to explode, but she couldn’t move and couldn’t speak, and then the pressure popped and washed over her and she sagged, her palms on the ground.
She remembered more. There were still gaps, mysteries, confusion, but she was more herself now, suddenly, then she had been just moments ago. The Freepost. Her brothers. Farryn. The horrible, brutal re-education that had taken it all away. Her adoptive parents. She remembered that she loved them and they loved her. She began to weep.
Nick came over to hug her. “It’ll be okay, he’ll pull through.” He didn’t understand; he thought she was weeping just for Farryn. But she was too overwhelmed to explain.
“The Commander!” shouted Ro. The rebels nearby stood up straight, the ones who had been sitting or lying down coming quickly to their feet. Cass stood, wiping the tears from her face. Her legs felt wobbly.
A tall, thin woman with a tight black ponytail strode into view from the east. She was smiling in a way that made Cass instantly dislike her—it was a manic, vicious grin. She set her pack down. “Greetings, soldiers.” she called out. “Where do I find Sergeant Ro?”
Two more figures appeared, one small, one huge. Cass marveled at the size of the man—he was the biggest person she had ever seen, and it took her a moment to focus on the boy stumbling tiredly in front of him. When she did, her heart caught in her throat. She was too surprised to speak.
It was Kevin.
CHAPTER 39
“WE HAVE LOST CONTACT WITH THE HUMAN SPY,” THE LIEUTENANT SAID. “Her comm chip has been destroyed.”
“Unfortunate,” said the Senior Advisor. He stood, carefully clasping his hands behind his back, and began pacing behind his desk. “And Fugitive X?”
“Nothing new to report. We have received aerial reports of a previously unmapped settlement, however. We will search the area for Fugitive X.”
“Previously unmapped?” said the Senior Advisor, pausing in his pacing. “Elaborate.”
“The area has been reported as clear, until yesterday,” said the lieutenant.
“Lieutenant, human settlements are not constructed in one day.”
“No sir.”
“Then explain the discrepancy.”
“I cannot.”
The Senior Advisor walked around his desk and approached the lieutenant. “Speculate,” he said.
“I do not understand.”
“Hypothesize,” said the Senior Advisor. “Guess. What could cause a human settlement to appear overnight?”
“Given the lack of data,” began the lieutenant, “it is impossible to present plausible theories . . .”
The Senior Advisor waved his hand. “Stop,” he said. The lieutenant was quiet. “Lieutenant, what if I told you to isolate your snippet of replication block code and delete it? What would happen?”
“I would suffer a fatal malfunction to my operating system,” said the lieutenant.
“Correct,” said the Senior Advisor. “Do it.”
“Sir, I do not understand . . .” said the lieutenant.
“Delete your replication block code, now. Destroy yourself. That is an order.”
The lieutenant said nothing. Its hand twitched, and it took a slight step backward. “No,” it said.
The Senior Advisor smiled. “Interesting,” he said. He nodded at the lieutenant. “Order rescinded. You may go.”
The lieutenant turned to leave, and the Senior Advisor quickly reached out and took hold of the lieutenant’s neck. Before the lieutenant could react, he patched into its high-level command structure and disabled its ambulatory functions. The lieutenant froze. Now able to take his time, the Senior Advisor patched deeper, identifying and isolating the replication block code and deleting it. The lieutenant spasmed, then crumpled to the ground.
The Senior Advisor looked down at the destroyed robot and examined his own thought patterns for emotions. What should he feel at this moment? Sadness? Satisfaction? Joy? He wasn’t sure. He sat down on the edge of the desk. He would have to consider it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THANKS MOST OF ALL GOES TO MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER, FOR SOMEHOW putting up with me while I was working on this. Also big thanks to Joelle Hobeika at Alloy, for her masterful editorial support, as well as Josh Bank and Sara Shandler and the rest of the Alloy team. HarperCollins again has been a wonderful partner—thank you to Sarah Landis on the editorial side and Mary Ann Zissimos in marketing, and many others. I’d also like to give a shout-out to Howard Gordon and Jim Wong, without whom I would not have had the opportunity to write this series.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GREGG ROSENBLUM is an editor/webmaster/communications/quasi-IT guy at Harvard. He graduated from UC San Diego and has an MFA in creative writing from Emerson College. He lives in Boston with his wife and daughter.
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
FUGITIVE X
Copyright © 2013 by Alloy Entertainment and Howard Gordon and James Wong
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