Reed sighs. “This won’t get solved tonight,” he says gently. “Please stay here for dinner. Stay for my poor attempt at spaghetti.”
I turn and brush my hand on the door’s sensor, opening it.
“Wait,” he says. “I know you have to leave soon, and I won’t keep you here any longer. But tonight, let me just enjoy a farewell dinner with my oldest friend.”
The way he says this is so endearing. Damn. My shoulders soften. I linger in the doorway.
He walks into his kitchen to check on the food and stirs the pan of marinara sauce.
He is my oldest friend. A last farewell dinner. He deserves that much. I step back inside and tread over to the table, hanging my jacket on the chair.
“Relax. Take a seat,” he says, glancing over.
I do as he says, staring into the flickering candle in the middle of the table. I was so close to finding Kenmore. I thought this was the missing piece to the puzzle. Now I’m back to square one. The only thing I have to pursue, the only lead is an address for an abandoned warehouse in Tucson.
Reed approaches with two heaping plates of spaghetti. He sets one in front of me and takes a seat. We dig into the food, and I have to admit, it’s tasty.
“Is it edible?”
“It’s great,” I garble through a mouthful of noodles.
He cracks up. “Anyone ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?”
“Hell no,” I say. “I went to Woodlawn where we learned how to kick ass, not manners.”
He howls with laughter. And I can’t stop laughing either, unraveling the tension I’ve been holding in.
“That’s the Ida I know,” he manages, wiping traces of tears from his eyes.
I laugh so hard that I’m doubled over, and without realizing, knock over my knife and it clatters to the floor. I bend over to grab it and Reed does the same beside me. Our foreheads collide, connecting hard. I recoil but not before I hear the telltale pop and fizz.
I rub my face, surprised that my skin stings.
Our laughter ceases immediately. His eyes widen.
I leap from my chair, knocking it over. “Reed! Oh my God…” I don’t know what else to say, he’ll be on the floor in seconds, going into shock or seizures.
He places his palms on the table and pushes his chair back. All color retreats from his face.
But then I realize something isn’t right. The man I hurt in the bar fell over in seconds. Reed’s still vertical somehow.
He straightens and runs his hands along his chest and over his stomach, as if checking himself for injury. “What’s supposed to happen?”
“Y-you’re supposed to fall over and have a seizure.”
“And yet, I’m still here,” he says slowly.
I can’t believe it’s taking this long to affect him. The power of my touch should have acted in seconds. “I…I don’t understand.”
He stretches his arms out, then stares at his palms. “I touched your skin, and I’m still unharmed.” A smile breaks across his face.
My mouth hangs open, and I can’t speak.
“Don’t you see what this means?” He’s practically shouting, and a blush spreads across his neck and face. “You touched me, and I’m fine!” Suddenly, he closes the distance to me, reaches out, and cups both palms on my cheeks.
I jump back, pushing him away. “No—”
“Shh…It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around me and squeezes, locking me in a tight embrace.
And I realize he’s right. He’s okay despite coming in contact with my skin.
I stop fighting against him; his voice lowers. “It must be the vaccine—my skin barrier.”
It’s been a while since anyone hugged me. His warmth gives me goosebumps.
He releases his hold but stays close. “Take off your gloves,” he commands.
I shake my head, feeling like my heart has taken up permanent residence in my throat.
Reed grabs my shoulders. “If this is true—if it’s the vaccine—you have a cure, maybe. It’s a big maybe, but something to look into.”
I’m frozen in place. I never expected this. Could such a thing be possible?
“I’ll risk my life on it,” he says, then rests a hand on my cheek.
This time I stay still. I pull my right glove off and lift my fingers to his face. How this can be happening? Am I dreaming?
He leans in, kisses me. The heat of his skin and the warmth of his lips make my legs wobbly. It’s been forever since I kissed someone.
He caresses my arms, then glides his strong hands around my neck and collarbone.
And I press against him, test the feel of his muscles. His solid stomach.
He gazes down into my eyes, and I stare back, not wanting to forget this moment. I kiss him again, long and deep, this time.
He guides me to the sofa and we collapse together, desperate to explore each other.
Thirteen
Early the next morning, I sneak out of Reed’s apartment and hit the gym. I stride past rows of exercise equipment and talking holographs inviting me to simulate a mountain climb.
My thoughts are wrapped in confusion. I asked a guy for directions on the way here and had to ask him to repeat himself. Not like me at all.
I trek toward a smaller room in the back. Luckily, it’s empty. Good, I don’t want to be around people. I need time to clear my head and think.
From my bag, I grab my cloth wraps and start taping my knuckles, then my hands to protect them. I shove boxing gloves on.
After warming up, I approach a large vertical punching bag. I sink into my fighter stance, balancing my weight between both legs. I lunge forward, throwing a jab, cross, then a violent right hook. The bag swings on its chains. I shuffle and repeat—jab, cross, hook. Ten more reps. Sweat starts to drip from my temples.
With every hit, I see Kenmore’s face. I shift my feet, lean back, and deliver a massive roundhouse kick with my right leg. Then I follow up with another and another until I stagger away from the bag, trying to catch my breath.
I flash back to last night. My heart somersaults when I think of how it felt to be in Reed’s arms—safe.
I wonder if he’s still sleeping, and a wave of guilt hits me. The clock on the wall reads 0600. I snuck out of his bed about an hour ago, leaving him undisturbed.
I’m so confused. Shocked, even. Reed is resilient to my touch. Could the same vaccine be given to others like Lucy? Gatz? To the people in my life who matter to me?
I stomp across the room to go to work on a horizontal bag. Shin kicks.
In my line of sight, a window faces onto a courtyard with small outdoor tables. A couple emerges from a door into the open yard. They stroll arm-in-arm, both holding cups of coffee. I watch them as I beat the bag with my powerful kicks, but they don’t see me.
They are close to my age—early twenties. She balances on her tiptoes and kisses him. He smiles, laughs, and caresses her long brown hair. They chatter on about something before he finally hugs her goodbye and strides out of the yard toward campus.
She lingers, watching his departure. Then she hugs herself, squeezing her arms around her sides. The smile remains on her face. Is that what it means to be in a relationship? You’re happy even when the other person isn’t there? I’ve never felt that way about anyone.
I wonder what it must feel like to be her. She’s very much in love. As she walks toward her apartment, her eyes meet mine. I glance away and pretend I was doing something else. Bending over, I stretch and tap my toes.
Later, when I walk back to my room, I wonder about life here. I could stay and be with Reed. I would be protected here. Safe for the first time in my life. Maybe I could get a job in the Squad.
But then Kenmore would still be out there. Someone needs to bring him down. I’m the only one. It’s my duty to find him. I have to.
No matter the cost.
Fourteen
I throw my clothes and the few things I own into my backpack. Scanning the room one las
t time, I look for anything left behind. Ogre waits outside, prepping the bikes. We depart in less than thirty minutes.
A knock sounds at my door. Reed’s face appears on the security monitor screen. I was hoping to leave before seeing him again. But I have no choice—no window to crawl out of in this hotel—so I let him in.
“Hey,” he says. In one hand, he holds a daisy he must’ve picked from the gardens outside. He twirls it, then offers it.
“Come in,” I say, ignoring the flower.
He steps inside and eyes my bag. “Were you going to tell me goodbye?”
I say nothing.
“You know, I had a feeling you might try to leave.” He gets close to me and strokes my upper arm. “Even after last night, you wouldn’t have said goodbye?”
“Reed...” I turn so he can’t see my face. “Things are complicated, and you know I have unfinished business.”
“Right. But what about the mech helmet?”
“I trust you to keep it safe. There’s more security here at Space Squad than I can provide. So, it’s safer here. I’ll be back for it.” I hesitate. “Keep Lucas away from it.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I had a long discussion with Lucas. I placed him on administrative leave for a few weeks. He’s sorry that he tried to get your sample the way he did. He also said he doesn’t have any info on Kenmore’s whereabouts.”
My stomach rolls. “Are you sure he’s not lying?”
“I grilled him. If he was hiding something, I would know.” He paces the floor, lost in thought. “I’m coming with you. What you’re doing could be really dangerous—”
“No, absolutely not. I’ll be fine. I have a strong, very intimidating android companion.”
He locks his gaze on me. “But if something happens to you…”
“Look, I have to do this on my own.” I return his stare even though my insides feel like goo. “Don’t you understand that?”
He grabs my hands in his. “I’m worried. I found you after all these years. I don’t want to lose you all over again.”
My heart wobbles in my chest as his eyes search my face. What have I gotten myself into? It’s hard to breathe.
“Ida, I love you.”
I try to swallow but my throat is dry. “I… I—”
He places a finger on my lips. It’s an odd feeling not to have to run away from his touch. “You don’t have to say anything back. I just want you to know how I feel. I know you have to do this. I know your heart is telling you to get revenge on this guy. If Kenmore was in this room, and you asked me to, I would beat him to a pulp right now.” His eyes glimmer. “Just know I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you.”
I manage to swallow, finally. I’m hot and ashamed and exhilarated all at the same time.
“I have something for you.” He rummages in his pants pockets. Then he pulls something small out and offers his closed fist. He drops a small metal device in my palm.
I peer at what looks like a miniature, curved pieced of jewelry. “What’s this?”
“A transponder. Wear it high on your ear. It’s like a cuff, see?”
I nod.
“If you get in trouble, twist it, press this button on the back for three seconds, and it’ll contact me. I won’t be able to get to you right away, but from here to Tucson, I could be there in two hours on one of the stealth crafts.”
“Wow.” I stare at the transponder. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Anything you need, I’ll be there.” Then he leans in and grabs me, locking me in an embrace. Pressed against him, I remember how he feels. Inhaling the skin on his neck and caressing the tight muscles around his spine, I never expected leaving would be so hard.
He lingers, not letting go of me. Then he pulls away and cups my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. I try to hold his gaze, but I have to look away after a few seconds, and he releases me.
I trudge to the bed and grab my pack, swinging it over my shoulder. As I walk out the door, I say, “I’ll be back for the helmet. Take care of it.”
Traveling down the hallway, I feel different than before. I want to rush back and tell him that he matters to me, but that would be stupid.
I have to get to Tucson.
Find Kenmore and stop him.
Fifteen
Tucson
Ogre and I arrive in Tucson just as the sun sets. Jagged clouds salute us, tossing scars across the sky.
The android rides ahead of me, leading the way via its sophisticated navigation system. It’s a relief to see signs of life finally after hundreds of miles of parched, drab terrain. Tucson’s towers rise up from the earth in a haphazard cluster. Half the city is shrouded in a partially constructed dome that was designed to block polluted air and offer protection from the harsh desert sun. But the project was never finished.
We skirt the populated central district and steer our motorcycles to an industrial section. Here, the streets are nearly empty and circular tanks line the streets, supplying the city’s water rations. Armed guards scowl at us as we ride past.
“Let’s get away from these tanks,” I comm Ogre.
“Affirmative. We’re a few streets from our destination,” Ogre says.
I breathe a sigh of relief as we move away from the water district. The streets are wider and even more deserted. Buildings are abandoned and crumbling. Smatters of graffiti cover the decaying walls.
Ogre slows and stops in front of a desolate stone building that stretches four stories tall. “My records indicate this was a steel factory from the 1980s and into the 2000s.”
I peer up at the tarnished stone facade. From the looks of it, squatters invaded the warehouse decades ago and stripped anything of value.
We park our bikes on one side of the building, out of sight of the road. I scan my biocuff and see a comm from Reed. Have you arrived in Tucson? Give me an update when you can. Miss you.
I sigh and swipe it away.
The warehouse’s front entrance is heavily barricaded, but I spy what I assume was once a side door.
“Ogre, can you scan for any activity inside? Any human life?”
“Scanning,” the android says. “I don’t detect any movement inside.” Ogre shoves a flimsy aluminum panel spray-painted with the words KEEP OUT and enters.
“Let’s check it out,” I say, stepping inside the dim, dusty shambles. The room is cavernous, and the ceiling must have been striking once, but now, the glass panels are discolored and broken. A second-story walkway lines the rectangular room. I imagine supervisors once observed the steel workers from atop the scaffold.
A crisscrossing intersection of stairs leads up to the raised level. Before us, the vast room stretches empty, stripped of any machinery or equipment. Trash and debris litters the corners of the warehouse floor, but there’s no evidence of squatters. Whoever was here cleared out long ago.
In the far corner upstairs, I spy what looks like a small office. “Ogre. I’m heading up to check that out. If I’m lucky, there might be old papers or a desk that hasn’t been destroyed yet.” Anything, even a scrap of paper with Kenmore’s name on it would be welcome right now.
“I will continue to investigate down here,” says Ogre.
I tread up the stairs cautiously because several of the steel rungs are missing or rusted out. Some have been sawed off. I make it safely onto the landing and start to travel the catwalk toward the office. I glance down at Ogre. “You good?”
“Fine.” The android pauses. “I’m detecting a strange pattern coming from—”
A blaring siren causes me to jump. I rush to the edge of the railing. “Ogre, what happened?” I can’t hear above the din of the alarm.
Ogre signals its biocuff and sends me a message, “I seem to have disturbed a hidden trip wire.”
Before I can respond, a crash assaults my ears, sounding like a thousand dishes shattering at once. Instinctively, I duck and cover my head as glass rains down and into the pit floor below.
<
br /> A dozen figures rappel down on ropes. Dressed in black ninja outfits, the intruders wear masks covering their eyes and nose. The first wave drops to the warehouse floor and surges toward Ogre. They attack with long batons, striking the android’s legs and torso.
“Hey,” I shout, but before I have time to react, a group of five ninjas land and crane their necks up at me. They rush for the stairs, and I sprint toward them. At the top of the stairs, I vault down as they run up, using the rickety stair railing for leverage. My boots make contact with the unlucky ninja who happens to be in the lead. The men fall like bowling pins in a tangle of limbs at the foot of the stairs.
I land next to them, managing somehow to stay on my feet. Surging toward Ogre, who fends off the attacking men with its sturdy chrome arms, I try to help, but the android is outnumbered and staggers as the men ram their batons against its cybermesh knee and elbow joints. Ogre shudders as it takes a direct hit in the visor and lurches backward.
I leap and kick one of the attackers square in the back, dropping him. Then I throw a fake jab followed by a cross-punch at another. But the ninja flickers as if he’s on a digiscreen. My hand tears through air.
Something’s very wrong.
I duck as another ninja advances on me, about to strike with his baton, but he disappears. “It’s not real.” I spin around, surveying the other fighters. The ninjas stop advancing and hold back. “Ogre, scan the room for human life forms.”
“Scanning…” Ogre stares at me from the ground. “There are only three humans in this building.”
“It’s a hologram,” I say. “A trick. Someone is controlling this.”
Ogre strides toward me.
Abruptly, the ninjas vanish. While above, on the catwalk, someone claps and footsteps clatter against old steel grates. Only now, it dawns on me that other than the breaking glass, the ninjas landing, and their footsteps, made no sound.
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