by RJ Plant
“Or you can do your thing. Weaken his hold on the rest of GDI’s board. Discredit him, prove he’s weak and in no shape to continue serving GDI.”
“Kill him now. Get it over with,” Mikhail said.
“No,” Gabriel countered. “The transition for Brinly would be smoother if there were to be less resistance from those still on the board. Gaining trust might allow us to more easily round up the rest of Bernard’s radicals.”
“I agree with Gabriel,” Olwen said.
“And I, Mikhail,” Ada said.
“Jim? What do you think?” Brinly asked.
“I think we could get the same outcome either way, but the long-term benefits of winning over the board and discrediting Bernard outweigh the immediate victory of killing him outright.”
“I like this guy,” I whispered to Kaitlyn.
“So do I,” Kaitlyn whispered back. I wasn’t sure I entirely liked how she said it.
“Brin,” I said. “Thoughts?”
“We wait,” she said. “Patience is a virtue in this particular matter. Pushing Bernard from the playing field was victory enough to move on to the next step. I hardly think he’s in any position to counter us.”
Olwen nodded her agreement, then said, “Mr. Quinn, there’s one more thing.”
“Isn’t there always?” I asked.
She smiled, an unsettling grin that made my stomach drop.
“There’s still the matter of your … problem.”
“What of it?”
“Well, you’re a danger. How do we know you won’t use the virus against us?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” I got in Olwen’s face so fast she didn’t have a chance to react. “Listen to me. Listen very carefully, because I’m only saying this once. I’m happy to help you progress your little agenda as long as it benefits me. I’ll even be a team player. But if you come near me in any way I don’t like, if you threaten me, if you sneeze the wrong bloody way, then the virus will become your problem. Clear?”
“I like this one,” Mikhail said. “You have nothing to fear from us. We are friends here.”
“Conor,” Kaitlyn said. She put a hand on my arm, tugging slightly. “Come on.”
“The Raider should be ready,” Brinly added.
“Right. Let’s go find Sully,” I said.
*****
6 November 2042, Boston Settlement, Former U.S. Territory
We landed in the middle of the street, about half a mile from the tunnel-bus entrance to the town. I’d slept most of the trip, not even waking during the second fuel stop.
I got out as Brinly powered the Raider down. I dropped the duffel to the shattered pavement and made myself as long as I could, stretching upward with my arms, then shook my legs out.
I felt … good.
As in, I’d never taken a bullet to the chest good.
When I was done stretching and returning the feeling to my lower extremities, I slung the duffel over my shoulder and shoved my hands in my pockets.
Kaitlyn hopped out of the Raider, ducking as she hurried over to me.
“Thanks for the hand,” she said.
I was about to answer when a grenade bounced across the pavement and stopped in front of the Raider.
“Brinly!” I shouted. I was lunging forward when Kaitlyn grabbed my hand. That’s all it took. I pushed her to the ground and covered her.
The blast was followed by a rain of debris against my back, stinging the exposed back of my neck but otherwise bouncing harmlessly off my leather jacket.
I stood, trying to gauge the threat level by feel rather than sight or sound. I was almost completely deafened, and smoke and dust clouded the air. As the smoke dissipated, I saw one of the Raider’s rotors stuck in the exterior of a building a good thirty feet from the explosion.
I yelled Brinly’s name, a dozen times at least, but I could only hear half that many. I walked carefully over to the bulk of twisted metal formerly known as Raider. I squatted down, looking for something, anything.
“Now what on earth has got you so worked up?” asked a voice that sounded like it was speaking from underwater.
I spun around. Brinly looked down at me, hand on cocked hip, grinning.
“What the fuck?” I asked. “I thought…”
“If someone wants me dead, they’ll have to try a whole hell of a lot harder than that. I saw him coming before he even pulled the pin.” She nodded toward the slumped remains of a building across the street.
A direction was all I needed. I didn’t think, just ran, my feet pounding against the asphalt so hard it sent little jolts of pain up my legs and into my spine. The building where Brinly had seen the assailant was a perfect hiding spot, a labyrinth of twisted steel and scattered concrete and brick.
I jumped over a low piece of corded metal twisted around a slab of concrete, not slowing. I climbed and jumped and sidestepped until I found him. He was running down the slope of debris leading down from the back of the building. His eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder and spotted me.
I sprinted for him, trying to ignore how the heaviness of the air sapped my stamina.
I tackled him, the two of us rolling until we slammed into the base of a very large, very dead tree. I pushed myself up but kept my knee where it had landed on his chest.
He didn’t try to move.
“Who are you?” I said, leaning in close.
He smiled and choked as blood foamed around his lips and teeth. I removed my knee from his chest, moving into a squatting position, and noticed that his torso was caved in.
I swore, then said, “Tell me.”
He laughed, more blood coming up.
“I ain’t no rat,” he said, then went completely limp, his fingers catching on my shirt before falling away.
I stood up, pacing the body for a moment before giving it a good hard kick.
He wore ratty clothes, didn’t look like GDI.
I jogged back to Brinly and Kaitlyn.
“Find anything useful?” Brinly asked.
I shook my head and picked up my duffel, which was surprisingly intact.
“Might as well march on,” I said.
*****
6 November 2042, Boston Settlement, Former U.S. Territory
“Who do you think it was?” Kaitlyn asked.
We’d taken up a position near the town entrance, though out of direct sight of the bus. I sat on a downed log while Kaitlyn found a spot on the ground next to me. Brinly stood, leaning her back against a tree, leg kicked back to rest against the trunk. I wondered if the little town would send out a patrol to investigate the explosion.
I shook my head and ran a hand over my face, then back and forth against my scalp. Hair seemed a little long in both places.
“If I had to make a guess at gunpoint,” I started, not really wanting to answer. Not wanting to think about the implications. “I’d say it’s something to do with Sully. Or his daughter.”
I hoped that wasn’t the case, because if it was it would be my fault and I just didn’t want that kind of responsibility. Sully had asked for protection while he came here to find Jean and I’d just … left him. While his asking Felix technically let me off the hook, I’d still agreed to help. Fuck, we both had and—
No. No jumping to conclusions, no making assumptions. We’d find Sully and Madison and see what they knew. That’s what would happen.
Brinly smirked. “Seems the most logical explanation, if we rule out everyone who wants you dead.”
“That seems to be a growing list,” I said. “At this point I wouldn’t rule out Truepenny.”
Kaitlyn put a hand on my arm. I found a smile for her, but it faded as soon as I looked away. I slid to the ground so I could use the log as a backrest.
“Not likely. They wouldn’t risk me to get to you,” Brinly said, which wasn’t exactly comforting.
I stared out at the dark space between us and the town and listened for anything out of the ordinary.
“D
o you ever sleep?” I asked Brinly after a while.
“And let the two of you get killed?”
“You know you don’t have to be here. Not either of you.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure you could keep us here if we didn’t want to be,” Kaitlyn said.
“Oh, ye of little faith.” I reached out and gave her knee a pat. She scooted over to sit closer to me.
“Besides, the dueling Mr. Quinns are so very entertaining,” Brinly said.
“The psycho-melty one and the one who can’t seem to get things right?” I asked.
Brinly shrugged, just a small upward movement of one shoulder, and smiled. “I think Truepenny can live without me for a few more days. If you need to rest, I suggest you do so now. You’ve got a little time.”
Since I’d slept most of the way over, I decided to stay up and keep watch with Brinly. Kaitlyn slid in closer to me. I put my arm around her and she nestled her body to fit comfortably against mine.
“For warmth,” she mumbled sleepily.
Brinly rolled her eyes.
“Are you going to keep her?” Brinly asked after a while.
“Well I hadn’t gotten a collar or anything, but …”
Brinly came over to sit on the log. She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed them at the ankle, then looked at me.
“I was born into a wealthy family,” she said. “A stable home life, a good education, all manner of wonderful opportunities had just come to be a part of the life I expected.”
She looked off into the distance, thinking, choosing what to say. I kept my mouth shut and let her talk.
“My parents joined the War efforts. They couldn’t fight—my father had heart problems and my mother had severe asthma—but they could help in other ways. They funded new schools and hospitals after so many had been destroyed. They funded housing for the displaced, the refugees … the survivors.”
“Where are you going with this?” I asked.
She sighed. “They started their final project during the tail end of the War. Government Directive International.”
“Your parents founded GDI?” I asked. I was more than a little surprised.
“Olwen was on the first board. She took me in as a ward after my parents were killed. She left GDI shortly after that and founded Truepenny with the help of some woman I’ve still never met. Anyway, she put me in contact with Rian, said he could help me find answers. So, with Rian’s help, I joined GDI to find those answers. Rian held the debt against me though. He recruited me, he helped me find out what happened to my parents, and in return, I had to spy for him.”
She took a deep breath.
“When my parents found out Bernard’s plans for GDI, he killed them. Not had them killed, but did it himself, when my parents invited him to dinner one night to discuss GDI’s future. He’s never been afraid of getting his hands dirty.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, because what else was there to say?
“That’s not why I’m telling you this,” she said in a tone designed to scold disobedient children. “Since Bernard had killed my parents, it was no surprise that he kept a close eye on me.”
Which meant he’d also likely guessed her connection with Truepenny, or assumed it was a possibility. And he’d have likely killed her before having me infiltrate the organization.
“Is that why Ada was trying to get into GDI? To run interference?”
Brinly shook her head. “She was monitoring you.”
“Comforting,” I said.
“Needs must,” she said with a half-smile. “Anyway, every day for years I wondered, is this the day? Is this the day Bernard will kill me? And I blamed Rian. I blamed him for the fear, for the feeling of helplessness, for asking something like that of me, all because I wanted to find out what happened to my parents. It made me stronger. Made me a little harder to kill. But … it seemed so unfair.”
“You won’t find any argument from me,” I said.
“I’m telling you this so you’ll stop saying bloody stupid things about my not having to be here. Understand that I’m not here for you. I’m working with you instead of crawling back to Rian or hiding behind Truepenny because we’re after the same thing.”
“We are?”
She gave me a look reserved for the thickest of children.
“Destroying Bernard and his associates,” she said. “Rebuilding GDI.”
“Oh, sure. If doing that will get me a little peace, then I can definitely agree that that’s what I’m after.”
After a minute of mulling it over, I said, “Just for clarification’s sake, I want to get the situation exactly right. You trust Truepenny—an organization you work for—to help you take down a faction within GDI—an organization you work for—with the additional help of Rian Connell—also, kind of an organization you work for.”
“Not Rian’s help,” she said, her mouth turned up in a grin. “Yours.”
30
7 November 2042, Boston Settlement, Former U.S. Territory
We waited until just after midnight before entering the town, going off what Madison had said about the guards. Or lack thereof. Luckily, we hadn’t encountered any man-eating cougars. Or any cannibals.
I took the lead and Brinly brought up the rear so we’d be prepared if an ambush came from either direction. A few people milled about the town, and everyone we passed stopped to stare. That hadn’t happened the last time. Was it because we weren’t with Madison now?
I led us to the fire escape of Madison’s building, watching the few scattered people creeping around in the shadows. We entered the second-story window, then crept down the hall and up to the fourth floor.
404.
The door to Madison’s flat was ajar, the doorframe cracked where the deadbolt had latched. I held up my hand for Kaitlyn and Brinly to stop, then pressed my hand against the door. It swung open a few feet before hitting a point of resistance. I looked in, my back against the door so I could see down to the far corners of the room.
The flat was in shambles. I walked in and found what had kept the door from opening all the way. A body I didn’t recognize. Farther in the room, there was another body I didn’t recognize and a significant amount of blood staining the floor. I called out to Madison and Sully but got no answer. I stopped outside Bill’s room. The door was closed.
“Bill.”
No response.
I walked back into the main room.
“Well?” Brinly asked.
I told her what I’d found.
“Did you check the whole apartment?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Everywhere but Bill’s room,” I said.
Brinly pushed her way past me and Kaitlyn followed. I let my head fall back and looked at the ceiling, but it quickly became evident that it would provide no answers. I took a deep breath and walked back to Bill’s door.
“Bill, if you can hear me, I’m coming in,” I said.
No response. I tried the handle. It was unlocked. I pushed the door open and stepped into the dark.
I didn’t have any trouble seeing Bill. His form was still on the bed. I moved closer and leaned over, then swore under my breath. Brinly walked around the bed to join me.
The neat little hole in Bill’s forehead was unmistakable.
“What is it?” Kaitlyn asked from the doorway.
I didn’t really want to answer.
“Looks like Bill’s been executed,” Brinly said.
“Oh God,” Kaitlyn said, breathing the words more than voicing them.
I put a hand against Bill’s cheek. It was cold. “He has to have been like this for at least a day. Probably longer.”
I looked at Kaitlyn, silhouetted in the doorway. What would have happened to her if Brinly hadn’t picked her up from this place and brought her to me?
Brinly caught my gaze and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked down, feeling a little swell of relief.
“There’s something …” I said, leaning in for a closer look.
> It looked like a piece of paper had been shoved into Bill’s hand. I grabbed it and walked back into the main room, not wanting to hang around the body any longer.
“What is it?” Kaitlyn asked.
I opened the crumpled paper and stared.
“Sully,” I said. “This was Sully’s.”
The picture of Jean was so faded as to be almost unrecognizable. Almost. There was new writing on the paper, the same handwriting from the first message to Sully.
We have your people. You want them back? Come and find us.
I crushed the note in my hand.
31
6 November 2042, Atlantic Ocean Checkpoint/Fuel Station
She stood safely behind the glass of the two-way mirror, looking out over her board of directors. And him.
LS061514.
Conor, now. That’s what he called himself. Perhaps that’s the only name he really knew. The thought made her sad. A post-lifetime leading to this moment and all she could feel was regret.
She looked at the machines she was hooked up to. An hour of aggressive gene therapy a day in exchange for more years. She sighed, turning her attention back to the mirror.
One of the women Conor had come in with, the one she didn’t know, leaned into him, speaking too low for the microphones to pick up. There seemed to be something delicate between the two, the way his hand grazed the small of her back as she leaned into him, the way he seemed to use his body to shield her from the others when he stood. He introduced the girl—Kaitlyn—to Olwen.
She’d always known that he would grow into a large man. But he seemed to be larger than life. His hair had indeed darkened over the years, nearly brown now, but his eyes were as bright as ever. A sharp, almost implausible blue.
As he sat, relinquishing the floor to Olwen, he stretched out, long and unconcerned. A king among his council, willing to listen, but ultimately choosing as he wished.
The introductions.
Mr. Reid leaned across the table to take Conor’s outstretched hand. Ms. Beckert opted to give a curt nod instead. Mr. Fyodorov never missed an opportunity to size up a man by his handshake. Mr. Bloom nodded. Ms. Joyce wiggled her fingers in a familiar wave.
