by David Wong
Alonzo said, “Sure,” but made no move to tell anyone anything.
Soon the drone took to the sky. From their position it was almost invisible in the evening gloom, just a couple of tiny running lights. Alonzo pulled the rail rifle from his back so he could get a look at the thing through its scope.
Echo’s voice said, “It’s heading your way.”
Alonzo peered through his scope. “It has a little box attached to the bottom that looks like an add-on. About the size of a hamster cage. No too big. Like a middle-class hamster.”
Will said, “In about ten seconds it will be in range of the grounds’ anti-air security. It’s set to automatically blow it out of the sky, unless I tell the system not to, and I can’t think of a single reason to do that unless just out of sheer, morbid curiosity.”
The drone flew for about nine more seconds, then stopped, hovering in place.
Will shook his head. “Knew right where to stop.”
The drone continued to hover. Everyone waited.
A tiny, piercing light appeared below it. The light split into thousands of tiny points, fanning out, forming a hologram a hundred feet across. It took the shape of a Spider Cow Zoey cartoon, fully rendered in three dimensions, complete with the black polka-dot underpants. It had a huge stupid grin, purely to show off its version of Zoey’s messed-up teeth. Then, below it in huge, hovering red letters, was the phrase:
FARTBURGER COOKS BALLS WITH BALLS!!
This, Zoey would find out later, was intended to be the sickest of burns in the anti-Zoey community. Like most of their insults, catchphrases, and memes, it required quite a bit of unpacking.
Untangling this particular one required rewinding several decades to when it was first determined that one of the greatest contributors to global climate change was the production of beef, due to the sheer amount of methane cows expel into the air while digesting their feed. In order to discourage and stigmatize beef consumption, an animal rights group had launched an infamous campaign called “Skip the Fartburger.” Since Zoey’s personal hate group had decided she was a cow, some had thus started referring to her as “Fartburger.” Separately, it was a popular phrase among the youth to say that a particular hot summer day was “cooking balls.” Once the group decided Zoey was also a cannibal and added in the detail that Tilley’s testicles were missing (along with many other parts), it was decided that she was farting out all of the balls she had eaten, so much so that it was warming the city. Thus, “Fartburger cooks balls with balls.” It really made perfect sense when you sat down and diagrammed it out.
Everyone stared at the hologram, took it in, then flew into action. Will shouted commands, ready for the next shoe to drop. This was, Will was sure, the exact kind of distraction the enemy would use to draw their focus in one direction while attacking from another angle. And yet, there were no signs of that attack.
Finally, Deedee rolled her eyes and took the railgun from Alonzo. She aimed, fired, and turned the drone into a cloud of whirling fragments. On the ground below, the pair of twentysomething males who had been watching the whole thing play out were now speeding away in the moving truck.
Then, there was only silence.
“No other activity, not for a mile in any direction,” said Echo.
Budd’s voice chimed in again. “Zoey, I called your momma, she says she’s fine, off work, and drinking with friends along the parade route. No one’s bothering her.”
Echo again: “The Blowback put out a statement that’s just four words long. ‘That Was For Dexter.’”
“Hey! Everybody look,” said Andre. “Over there.”
Zoey spun to face him. “What?”
“I got the drone out of the tree!”
Zoey threw up her hands. “Oh my god. So, the ‘battering ram,’ the million men, all of that was just code for whatever that was?”
Budd’s voice said, “They’re still saying the feast is at midnight. Whatever that means.”
Will sipped his drink. “I’m starting to think that our adversary is not speaking the same language we are.”
Zoey put her hands on her hips and puffed out an angry breath. “This is so stupid. We’re all idiots for falling for this. We wasted our entire day, had people running around all over the city, we’re going to have Megaboss Alonzo as our mayor—”
Andre said, “As our what?”
“—over vague, totally unrealistic threats made by people who would have probably found a way to trip over their inch-long dicks on the way here. Fine. That plan you guys came up with yesterday, the ‘Get Chobb’ plan? We’re putting it in motion. Do your thing.”
Zoey walked back toward the front doors and sensed everyone was following her.
Behind her, Alonzo said, “You know, I’ll be even madder if I find out this was all arranged by you guys just so my crew would help set up your Halloween maze.”
Zoey took a bite of the brownie ice cream ball that had appeared in her hand and said, “We’re going to hold Chobb at gunpoint and make him come clean about all of this. Then I’m going to come back here and get dressed up and I’m going to go to that stupid parade and I’m going to hate every minute of it because parades are dumb and there are always lines at the toilets a mile long—”
Zoey’s shoe kicked something that had been lying on the floor of the foyer. It skidded away.
It was Stench Machine’s collar, and his Blink camera.
The cat himself was nowhere to be found.
Zoey told herself that this was nothing, that it had just fallen off. Then she thought about what Will had said, about the distraction. Then she thought about The Blowback boasting that they would have a feast at midnight.
Zoey balled up her fists, bent over, and screamed as loud as she could.
24
Everyone was dispatched to look for the cat. After half an hour, Zoey made them stop.
They were all in the courtyard now, Zoey carrying a saucer of smelly homemade cat food she’d been using to try to lure him out. She set it in the grass and tried to gather herself. Everyone was watching.
“They took him,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “We’re just wasting time. That’s what all of this was about. This is what they worked out in their stupid chat rooms.”
“Zoey,” said Echo, softly, “nothing breached those walls. Nothing.”
“Who else was here?”
“Nobody, we canceled the work crews, normal house staff were all told to stay home today. No one was here but us.”
Zoey stared at Alonzo, but said nothing.
Alonzo cocked his head. “Don’t even look at me like that. I understand you’re distraught about your missing animal but you will not accuse me and my crew. Not after we spent all day setting up your damned skeletons.”
“What if one of your people went rogue? What if Chobb got to one of them?”
“Don’t you see how that’s even worse? You know what, I’m out. My obligation is fulfilled. Everyone be sure to vote next year.”
Zoey gestured to Wu. “Search his people on the way out.”
Alonzo looked back over his shoulder at her. “Which of us is wearing clothes that could conceal a feline?”
Echo said, “Zoey, let them go. Stench went into the house, through the back door when Carlton was bringing in a bag of empty beer bottles. The camera shut itself off the moment he entered, just as intended. That was ninety minutes ago. None of Alonzo’s people have been in the house since then. Even Carlton came right back out to join us, in case you were about to suggest they turned him.”
“Then we now know there’s a way to sneak into the house and we have to find that hole in the security and close it. Later, I mean. Right now, the immediate problem is that they are holding a member of my family. And I’m telling you, if they hurt him, they die. I don’t care if we don’t have any staff willing to do it, this city is full of psychopaths who’ll do it for a sandwich.”
“Zoey,” said Will, “I want you to think. We’re sa
ying that these people, these social dropouts with rich backers, they spend weeks or months developing a plan to get in and out of the estate unnoticed. In a city—a country—full of people who would love to do the same. They know they have one chance at it before we discover the security hole and close it. Why wouldn’t they take the opportunity to abduct you? Get you in a room and make you confess to the Tilley thing, or even better, ignore all that and ransom you to the company for nine figures? Or, if they decide that’s too risky, just try to get data off of Santa’s Workshop? Or plant a bomb? Or literally anything else but steal your pet cat?”
“That is why.” Zoey stabbed a finger at him. “Right there. Because they knew it was the one way to destroy me that would leave me on an island because no one else would understand, because to everyone else they’ve ‘just’ taken my dumb pet cat. I can always just go grab a new one, right? This is just another one of my little girl tantrums?”
Echo said, “Can I show you something?”
“Okay?”
“In private. Away from”—she shot a look toward Will—“everyone.”
This was a strange request and in fact Zoey couldn’t ever remember Echo ever having made it before. Rather than argue, she walked into the finished Halloween maze, turning a corner to get somewhat out of range of everyone else. The walls were only six feet high but that was plenty to hide both Zoey and Echo from view.
“Well?”
“Zoey,” Echo began, “you’re extremely upset. When you are upset, sometimes you don’t see things clearly. That’s not a failing on your part, it’s just brain biology. But if you want to deal with this situation, you need to open your eyes to a truth that is right in front of you.”
“Okay. How about you just tell me what it is.”
“The fact that you have to trust us. Will, me, all the rest.”
“How convenient for Will.”
“See, you heard the words but you didn’t listen. There are things we don’t tell you because we know you won’t hear them. Not just me, the whole team. You hate that and you want to prove us wrong, right? So here’s how you can do it. Let me say this again, more blunt this time, and show me that you understand.”
Zoey set her jaw and said, “Alright.”
“Your ability to ever have a normal human relationship ended the day you inherited your father’s money and power. You will never have that again, for the rest of your life, no matter what happens.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think every time I get a call from somebody back home that I don’t know they’re trying to get me to pay their tax bill or their cousin’s bail money?”
“But you’re still closing yourself off when things get rough, like you’re waiting for a friend to come along who you can trust, somebody you can confide in about all these terrible choices you’re forced to make. What I’m telling you is that friend isn’t coming. Ever. Instead, you have to surround yourself with people whose instincts you trust, whether they’re your friends or not. And Zoey, if the people currently surrounding you aren’t trustworthy, get rid of us and get new people in here. You inherited your father’s gang and if you still don’t trust us, I understand, I may even agree. But I am telling you, from a position of having been there—if you can’t trust us, you need to fire us. But if you can trust us then listen to what we’re saying.”
“And what you’re saying is that I need to forget about Stench Machine because there’s some other, more important objective. One that I can never understand because you people are playing your billion-dollar game and I’m still over here alone on Zoey Island fretting about my dumb cat.”
“Do you know how Will got the bandage on his hand?”
“Cut himself on his bedside scotch glass?”
“Underneath the bandages are scratches. Deep ones. From cat claws. He got them because when the situation went to hell out at the Screw last night, he got your mother to safety and then he came back here and secured your cat. Carlton told me the whole story. He was in the front yard, Will chased him down, and got him into your bedroom. There’s a little trail of blood out there on the cobblestones, you can still see it. Go look.”
Zoey stared at Echo. Through her. Trying to imagine Will chasing a cat. She couldn’t.
Echo said, “You may not have friends in the traditional sense, people you can drink with and share your secrets with. All the friends you had back home, they wouldn’t even recognize you as the same person now. But Zoey—hey, look at me.”
She did, with great effort.
Echo fixed her gaze on her and said, “You are, in fact, on an island. But we are on here with you.”
Zoey burst into tears.
Echo paused for several seconds, letting her catch her breath. She put a hand on her shoulder.
“They want you to fall apart. Don’t. If they’ve taken him, we’ll get him back. But we also can’t lose track of the bigger picture, that’s all.”
“What if … what if they’re hurting him?”
“Then the faster we find him, the better, and the more methodical and logical we are in our approach, the faster we’ll find him.”
Zoey nodded and wiped her eyes. “We need a plan. A good one.”
“If you’re right, we’re facing a hive mind of obsessive nerds backed by a billionaire with access to an army and an arsenal, who knows we’re coming, and in fact wants us to come.”
“You’re right. We don’t need a good plan. We need a stupid plan.”
25
It was after seven P.M. on Devil’s Night, which meant hundreds of thousands of people were either at parties or lining up for the parade, many wearing costumes that could easily fit into your back pocket. Meanwhile, the Suits were having a grumpy argument around a conference table. Zoey imagined they were locked in an angst submarine floating through an ocean of drunken carousing.
“That’s what I keep sayin’,” said Budd. “I’ve dealt with actual antigovernment insurgency groups that were chattier than this. There is zero talk about your kitty cat leaking out of the Hub.”
“But we know where they’ve taken him,” said Zoey, “or where they’re going to take him, right? To the Screw. Wouldn’t they do this where they live?”
“Maybe,” said Will, “but someone posted this about fifteen minutes ago.”
He brought up a poor-quality photo onto the monitor. It was a young man in a dress or, at least, the person had the build and posture one would associate with a young man. The dress had little cartoon cat faces all over it and the guy had stuffed key parts with pillows to make it bulge out. A black-and-blue wig completed the ensemble: it was, in fact, a Zoey Ashe costume. The possibility of someone dressing like her for Halloween hadn’t occurred to Zoey until just now, but she guessed she should have expected it. People here went for darkly funny costumes above all else, and to these guys, her mere existence was both horrible and hilarious.
In the fake Zoey’s right hand was a plastic pet carrier. Its rear was to the camera, but the slits in the plastic showed tufts of white fur. The caption on the photo was OFF TO GO WIN THE 10K AT THE ICC. DIDNT THINK I’D FIND A CAT BUT WE MANAGED LOL
Zoey first went cold, then felt a wave of relief. The carrier was proof they’d kept Stench Machine alive and from what she could sort of make out from the slots, he was standing up. So his legs worked.
“What’s the 10K ICC bit about?”
“The $10,000 Inappropriate Costume Contest,” said Echo. “It’s being held in the park at ten.”
Zoey studied the photo. “What’s his name? It is a guy, right?”
Budd sat up. “Ah, we don’t know yet. Will only spotted this picture because it was tagged by several of the ringleaders.”
Zoey gave him a brutal look. “Why don’t you know?”
Echo said, “The framing, the angle, and the costume make it impossible do anything other than estimate height and build. And see how blurry it is? That’s a filter, intended to hide details in the background. Whoever took this
is very aware of the identification techniques we’d be using.”
“Remember, this isn’t a leak,” said Will. “It’s a public post, one they knew we’d see. That would suggest that they want you to know, or at least to think, that your cat is going to be at the costume contest in the park.”
“So they can do, what? Let me snatch the crate from the guy and find out it’s empty? Then they all get me on Blink while I start crying?”
“That’s the best-case scenario, that this is just The Blowback doing whatever they can to milk the game a little bit longer.”
“Milk? Did you intend to use that phrasing?”
“Yes.”
“Nice.”
“Worst-case scenario, they did this on Chobb’s direction and he’ll have an army waiting to get even for Dirk Vikerness.”
“Well, the plan’s the same either way. We go to the park and snatch this guy up. If he’s got my cat, great; if he doesn’t, well, then we’ll have the guy and I bet he won’t hold out long under interrogation. At the same time, we need a second team at the Screw. If this dickhead turns out to be a diversion or bait, then that’s where my cat will most likely be. We’ll just be ready to extract him from either place.”
Andre said, “Chobb and his puppet mob will be anticipating both moves.”
Zoey nodded. “And we are anticipating their anticipation. I’m on the costume contest team. If this is our guy, I want to be there, handle it personally.”
Andre looked to Budd. “What do you say you and I go out to the Screw, try to stealth the cat out of there, if it turns out that’s where he is? We’re not gonna outnumber ’em anyway, might as well see if we can finesse it.”
Zoey turned to Will. “Do you want to say some perfunctory thing about how I should stay here and let you people do the dangerous part?”
“Well, if they’ve found a hole in the estate’s security then it’s not safe here, either. If they can get your cat, they can get you.”
