“I have to get back to work. Thank you for updating me.” He stood before Will even had a chance to respond.
By the time Will got to his feet, Malcolm had disappeared through the loft door.
Chapter Eighteen
Poisoned. He should have guessed. Malcolm stopped only to make sure the step stool was in place so Will could get down by himself, then continued to their bedroom. As he entered, he ordered the windows to dim and the room sank into darkness.
As he paced, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Will as he had, but he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him at the moment. Will’s presence only reminded him of what the Geneticists had done.
It had been a test. That was the only explanation. They weren’t about to let him initiate such a drastic overhaul of the collars without first testing his loyalty. Thank the Spark Will had known to coax him away from a drastic reaction.
They had poisoned her. They didn’t want him to see that it wasn’t the usual serum injection. That’s why they had insisted Will and Kaleana be done at the same time. They had forced him to choose. If he had chosen to go with Kaleana, Will would be dead.
That’s why he couldn’t look at Will. He couldn’t look at that beautiful face that appraised him with perfect love and understanding when he could only think of how close he had come to losing his partner. There was no denying he felt gratitude that he’d chosen Will, but that only invited feelings of wretchedness for what that meant for Kaleana.
At least this way he could go with his original plan. Ever since talking to Tony, he knew he had to fight back at the individuals who had harmed his loved ones. If he couldn’t fight the system any longer, he would fight those who had wronged him. The baser of his instincts urged him to kill the Geneticist who had killed Kaleana, but his higher self had prevailed. Instead, he had determined to make sure that particular Geneticist never worked at the Eval Center again. He wouldn’t ever botch another collar switch.
All day he’d researched that Geneticist. Ralph Masterson. Several weaknesses had presented themselves. A gambling problem. A reprimand for insubordination. He had a fiancée. None of the weaknesses mattered now.
It hadn’t been a mistake.
Now he could execute his original desire.
Ralph Masterson would get as good as he gave.
Malcolm took a few deep breaths. In order to do what he wanted, he needed to go back to the office. That likely meant seeing Will. He closed his eyes and pictured Will’s familiar form, forcing himself to look at his own pain head-on until the sight of Will no longer smarted as strongly.
Opening his eyes, he mentally ran through his plan, making sure he didn’t ignore any details. He searched his feelings, making sure this was what he wanted. It was the only way justice would be served. He held on to many regrets in life, but he felt confident this wouldn’t be one of them.
When he entered the office, Will’s empty desk took him by surprise. Hopefully he had sought out one of the other Zeds to talk to. It would do him good. Besides, Will needed to get back into the habit of spending time with the family before dinner, and this made things simpler. There’d be no need for Malcolm to try to hide what kept him occupied at his desk.
It didn’t take long for Malcolm to access the familiar back door into the traffic control system. It had been one of his early practice targets for his hacking skills. A quick look at the file he already had on Masterson confirmed the registration of his vehicle. Malcolm accessed the autopilot program and took a look around.
He pulled up a map and plotted Masterson’s usual route to and from work. The car’s autopilot system showed that he’d arrived at work in the afternoon. He’d leave in a few hours.
Malcolm accessed the city’s primary traffic control system again and studied the traffic patterns for the time of night Masterson would be leaving. He needed to minimize collateral damage. There was no sense in harming an innocent Beta in his quest for justice.
A little research revealed an office building that would serve his purposes. It would be empty by the time Masterson encountered it.
Malcolm spent the next hour writing code. He couldn’t afford for this to come back to him or the movement. Everything needed to look like an accident. Masterson kept his vehicle in immaculate condition according to the service records. He had taken it in only a month ago.
At times like these, Malcolm appreciated that their society had given up the use of paper. None of this would be possible if every record wasn’t kept digitally. He could see a perfect accounting for everything the mechanic had done.
Malcolm didn’t know anything about motor vehicles, but he knew plenty about computers. Taking everything he had learned, he crafted a program that would point investigators back to the work the mechanic had done. An innocent mistake, bound to happen once in a while. Every sensor in the car would be made to look like the vehicle’s sudden acceleration into the building had been the result of faulty maintenance.
Once he infected the car’s computer with his program, Malcolm considered poking around in the traffic control system more. With some work, he could ensure that the city’s system would corroborate the version of events he had painted. Deactivating the vehicle’s safety features without detection had been easy, but he worried if he messed with the city’s system too much someone might stumble upon his work.
Better to err on the side of caution. He doubted the city’s safety systems would be able to prevent the crash. Even if they did, it would just mean a postponement.
He made sure to cover his tracks. No one ever looked this deeply into an accident anyway. The city’s system was good, but a few accidents still occurred each year. Masterson would just join those other unlucky individuals whose autopilot had malfunctioned.
With everything finished, Malcolm looked at the time on his desk. There were less than forty-five minutes left before dinner. He needed to apologize to Will for his abrupt behavior earlier. Grabbing his Glass Tab so he’d know when the deed was done, he went off in search of his lover.
Chapter Nineteen
“Stu posted another article on the message board,” Nick announced.
Will glanced at Malcolm when the usual chiding to be safe online didn’t come and saw that something else held his attention. It was the third time Malcolm had glanced at his Glass Tab since they’d all entered the lounge after dinner. Will wondered what he could be monitoring so closely. He hoped Malcolm had made contact with Oculus and eagerly awaited a reply.
Malcolm had found him playing a virtual game with Nick and Stu and pulled him aside to apologize for leaving so abruptly earlier. Will would be lying if he said Malcolm’s response hadn’t hurt, but he had understood. The fact that Malcolm had sought him out to apologize restored a sense of equilibrium to Will’s world that he hadn’t realized he’d lost. It served as a reminder that no matter what happened, he and Malcolm would work through it together. They had each other, and nothing gave Will as much confidence as that fact.
“What was the article about?” Tony asked.
“It was a response to another post about the injustice of the caste system. It took the arguments presented and framed them from the point of view of the Spark. Nothing too radical, just speculating that maybe our conscience shouldn’t be governed by science. You all should read it. It’s really good. We’ve already got some responses.”
“S-s-some of them should b-b-be good.”
“I also think there’s going to be another attack by the fanatics soon. It’s been peaceful for too long and there are grumblings on the boards.”
“We need to put a stop to their foolishness.” Rufus abhorred violence, even if it served a cause. Will wondered if he had told Kaleana about the atrocities he’d seen in Sharan that he only hinted at around the rest of them. He hoped he’d been able to confide in her.
The movement’s relationship with the fanatics was complex. The fanatics did serve a purpose. They brought the concerns of the movement to the forefront of the
public conscience, even though it was in a way the movement did not approve of.
When the time came to permanently remove the collars, they would need the support of the people. The fanatics were a good way to gauge the public willingness to change. While the violence was widely condemned, it did seem that with each attack there were more whispers among the Betas wondering why change couldn’t come.
“Do ya think they’re actually goin’ to do somethin’, or is it just a bunch of grumblin’?”
“A few users on the inside are throwing around some serious bragging about something coming. It’s the same people I was hearing from before the bombing at that Alpha’s plant, the one that makes all the uniforms the big companies use for Zeds.”
A soft ding sounded, followed quickly by rustling as Malcolm stood. “Excuse me, I have to go.”
He left the room with long strides, never taking his eyes off his tab.
“What was th-th-that about?”
Every pair of eyes turned to Will.
“I have no idea.” This answer did nothing to calm the worry in the faces of the men staring back at him. Will tried to summon the warmth he’d felt when Malcolm had apologized to him earlier, but it didn’t settle him.
“Let him be,” Syrus said as if it was nothing to concern themselves with. “Besides those damn fanatics and their foolishness, what other news is there? Do you know if the Geneticists have sent any feedback about the collars, Will?”
“I haven’t heard anything. I’m trying to take it as a good sign. If they had found a problem, we would have heard by now.”
“And how is it fitting? Any chafing or anything?” Tony had genuine concern in his eyes.
“It feels great, you know, other than the fact that it has to be there. It’s noticeably lighter, and the edges don’t cut in at all. From just a comfort standpoint, they’re a big upgrade. I haven’t had any problems.”
“Good.” Carson nodded. “We better hope the Geneticists take ‘em. We’ve already got a run of five hundred of ‘em done. I had to talk to Lucas about makin’ people go home at the end of their shifts. They’re pushin’ overtime to the point of not bein’ safe.”
“They want to do what they can,” Tony said. The Betas may not know about the movement, but they did know the new collars were lighter and more comfortable.
“Well we’ve got a safety record to uphold.”
“Psh. Do you hear yourself, Carson?” Syrus chuckled. “I never thought I’d live to see Betas working so hard for Zeds. This is a new world we’ve entered, my friend. Enjoy it, and stop being such a grouch for five minutes.”
The room filled with laughter. It was a moment of pure happiness and lightheartedness, the first they’d all had together since Kaleana had died. Will wished Malcolm took part in it, but he tried to not worry over whatever had him occupied.
Chapter Twenty
Malcolm accessed the traffic camera from the nearest intersection to the crash. Fire consumed the vehicle. Automatic sprinklers on the building Masterson had crashed into sprayed down, but they were no match for the inferno. Malcolm searched the entire frame. Masterson didn’t appear anywhere. If he was still in the car, there was no chance of survival.
An emergency vehicle arrived. A team of three outfitted in protective gear extinguished the flames and then withdrew a body from the wreckage. Malcolm couldn’t recognize the face, but he doubted anyone would. Identification would be made via the chip. The temptation rose to hack into the medical system to see if the scan he watched the techs perform returned Masterson’s name, but it seemed too risky with little reward. Malcolm had hit his mark.
Kaleana had been avenged. The man who had killed her was dead.
Satisfaction gave way to discontent. Masterson wasn’t the only one who had killed her. They all had. Every single person in the system had contributed to her death. And it wasn’t just her. These other participants in the system had harmed others Malcolm loved. Compounding sins in a world that didn’t believe in sin, only objective, scientific fact. Malcolm didn’t want just Masterson. He wanted them all.
If he couldn’t take down the system, he’d remove those people from it who had offended him.
The first person who came to mind was his father. That man had killed Billy, had given Kaleana to Malcolm so she could be killed later. Something deep inside Malcolm longed to kill him, but that could wait. His father would prove a more difficult target. Better to start more locally.
He had just the man in mind.
Buried on his computer sat a file with the bland name “WZ04.” Inside it resided all the information Malcolm had gathered on Vincent Palaney, Will’s previous Alpha. Up until now, Malcolm had contented himself with little petty acts of revenge. A bribe to Vincent’s money manager had resulted in the mismanagement of funds until Vincent’s fortune sat at a fraction of previous levels. Sabotage at the racetrack had destroyed his hopes of a winning season. All of it was inconsequential. The time had finally come for him to do what he’d always wanted.
* * *
Once he parked the car, Malcolm retrieved his bag from the backseat. The GPS had been disabled on the vehicle, so no one, not even Trent back at the compound, knew that Malcolm was in the wooded foothills over one hundred miles from home, well off the beaten path. From his bag he extracted a contact case. Using the rearview mirror, he put the blue contact in his right eye and blinked it into place. For the first time since he had left home as a teenager, he saw two eyes of the same color staring back at him.
He didn’t worry about getting caught, but his two differently colored eyes were too distinctive to not disguise. He slid a black hood over his head that allowed only his eyes and mouth to be seen. After checking himself over to make sure nothing about his appearance revealed his identity, he nodded in satisfaction. Actually, he didn’t look that much different than normal. Instead of black dress shoes, he wore heavy black boots, appropriate for hiking. Black dress pants had given way to the same black utility pants the police force wore. The black long-sleeved T-shirt came from his own collection and was completely nondescript. With the hood covering the back of his neck, it would be impossible to tell if he bore a Beta mark. He slipped on a pair of black leather gloves, grabbed his bag, and made off toward the rendezvous point.
So far, the man in Vincent’s employ whom Malcolm had used for previous acts of sabotage had proved discreet. Of course, the man didn’t know anything that would actually be of use. He only knew of his own guilt in the sabotage that had taken place. Malcolm had assured that all communication between them was anonymous and the payments he had made to the man untraceable.
Malcolm found the meeting place easily enough. It was a clearing in front of a small rock face. The trees in the area were so thick they could block out the sun, so the little clearing had been necessary for light. Wooded areas were hard to come by these days. Most of the trees had been harvested, but the government protected a few key areas, no doubt planning to harvest them in their own time. No one had any reason to be out here, guaranteeing Malcolm’s privacy.
The sound of footsteps pulled Malcolm’s gaze to the side. A few minutes later, a man emerged carrying an unconscious Vincent over his shoulder.
“You’re late.” In actuality, Malcolm didn’t know if the man was late or not. The statement was one of pure posture. Best to set the tone early.
The man dropped Vincent onto the ground, and a groan escaped the unconscious body as the air was knocked out of it. “I did what you wanted. No one will be looking for him for hours. His horse is hobbled a couple hundred meters southwest of here.”
Malcolm had supplied the man with a drug with which to spike Vincent’s drink a half hour before he was to set out on his weekly ride through the foothills. The man had followed unseen and brought Vincent to Malcolm as soon as he passed out.
“Good. I’ll take it from here.”
The man turned and left the way he came.
Malcolm pushed Vincent’s back against a tree and
secured his hands around the trunk. Additional ropes were used to tie his forehead, shoulders, thighs, and ankles to the trunk to keep him standing and minimize movement. He had a gag at the ready for when he regained consciousness, which should be at any moment. He took the time to go over his plan and the materials he had. A groan drew his attention from his bag. Vincent lifted his head and squinted. As soon as he saw Malcolm before him, he began shouting.
“Who are you? What are you doing? I demand to be released at once.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, Mr. Palaney.”
“If you know who I am, you know that I’m a very important Alpha. I don’t know who you think you are, but you better release me now, or you’re going to be in for a world of hurt.” Anger grew in Vincent’s eyes as Malcolm answered him with silence. “Release me now!”
When next he opened his mouth to speak, Malcolm gagged him. “Don’t worry, we’re too far away for anyone to hear you. The gag is for my benefit. I bet you’re wondering why you’re here.” Malcolm made sure to disguise his voice, speaking in a lower register than was typical for him. It wasn’t difficult. He normally spoke in either warm tones with those he loved or with ice tingeing his voice when speaking with others. The ice was there to keep his emotion out of it, but he had no desire to hide his hatred from this man. “I’m afraid I can’t give you a good reason. Other than that you’re a terrible man and the day of reckoning has come.”
Malcolm rummaged around in the bag and withdrew a simple pocketknife and a whetstone. He released the blade and began to swipe it slowly up and down on the whetstone. Every few strokes he would raise the blade to the sun and admire how the light gleamed off of it. He took longer than was necessary to sharpen the blade. In fact, it probably didn’t need sharpening at all, seeing as it was relatively new. The anticipation was what he was after. Vincent’s wide eyes followed each stroke of the knife with a manic intensity. Once he had drawn out the process long enough, he spoke.
[In Distress 02.0] In Pain Page 13
