“Are you former IT or something?” I asked, impressed by how quickly she seemed to work.
“Ha, that’s a funny joke. I’m no better at computers than Maddox is at making friends, bless her heart.”
“But you—”
“Don’t read into it. I just memorized the instructions on how to do this years ago.”
Years ago? That was interesting. Especially if that meant she’d known the man in question for a long time, as that would mean he wasn’t likely to stray at the drop of a hat. I hoped.
“So, why are we here?” I asked, trying to dig for more information on this mysterious contact. “I mean, if he’s with the Eyes, doesn’t that mean he can... I don’t know, hide the calls or something?”
“I’m sure he can, but precaution is always the best form of safety. Using a relay station where thousands of terabytes of information are processed every day is the best way of avoiding detection.”
That made sense. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t, and she hadn’t really left me any tidbits for continuing the conversation. She stopped typing and leaned back in the chair, going still. The seconds ticked by, and still nothing happened.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now I wait. He’s not always on time, but that’s understandable, considering that he’s doing it from the Core. It’s dangerous, and requires excellent timing and security protocols—or so he likes to remind me when I point out that he’s late.”
I considered this. “How can he still be up there? It’s obvious from how he’s helping you and Roark that he isn’t on their side. How does he avoid detection?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’ve often wondered the same thing, and the only thing I can think of is that he managed to trick the system somehow.”
I considered that too, piecing together the scraps of information that Roark had given me about him. He had contacted Roark before the old man had even finished refining the pill. Which meant he’d been helping him for some time. Cali as well. There was some trust there. It sort of dismissed the hope I carried that the contact was somehow Alex.
I exhaled, and turned back to the opening I was still half-perched in, looking down into the darkness beyond. “Can I ask you something?” I asked after a pause, and I heard the chair squeak. I glanced over to see her looking at me, her face mostly in shadows, save for the light being cast by the computer.
“I reserve the right not to answer it, but yes.”
“What is the big plan here, with all of this?”
“All of this?”
“Yes,” I said, and then faltered. “Not to imply that your home isn’t very lovely, but, I mean... at any moment, things could go wrong for you, and there’d be no one to help you. Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Every night,” she admitted honestly. “I have nightmares about it. About failing to keep my family safe from this world that they, and you, were born into. It’s not your fault that everything is falling apart up there, becoming a screwed-up mess, but, sad to say, you’ll be the ones to fix it... or tear it down.”
I frowned, her words confusing me. I’d thought we were planning to just leave the system, but she was talking about... fixing it or tearing it down? Did Cali want us to fight instead of run?
“Why do you say that?”
“No reason,” she said. There was a pregnant pause, and then she spoke again. “It’s just a feeling. The number of undocs has been growing exponentially for the last twenty years. When I first got out here, you could find but a handful of us. Now? I know of at least seventy people trying to survive outside the shell like this. That’s a sign that something really bad is about to happen inside the Tower—nothing good.”
“Right. Which brings me back to my question. What is the—”
“Shut up,” Cali said abruptly, and turned back to the screen as something began flashing across it. Alarm crawled up my spine, but when she looked back at me, it evaporated under the calm control there. “It’s fine; it’s just him. Just try to be quiet, okay? He doesn’t like surprises.”
I nodded. I’d waited this long. What was a few more minutes? I watched as she hit something on the screen, and then—
“Did you secure the Medic?”
The voice—I didn’t want to say “his,” as it was unclear what gender the person actually was—came out of the terminal, digitally rendered to the point that it didn’t even sound human anymore.
“We did,” she said. “And got two strays with him. His assistant, and a Squire who’s been taking the medication he created.”
“Are they threats?”
Cali didn’t hesitate in her response. “Not that I’ve seen, and my gut tells me they are trustworthy.”
“I trust your assessment, but still want to get some background of my own. The Squire, is this the one Roark mentioned? Liana Castell?”
“Yes. And she needs a little help in regards to a member of her family she wants to bring down here to live with us. Apparently, she knows a bit too much, and her ranking is being adversely affected as a result.”
“I see. And I suppose you want my help to try to make this happen?”
“If you can swing it. I’m not sure how bad things have been in the Tower since Tian wound up interfering.”
“It has not been good,” the voice replied. There was a long pause. “Give me the name of the family member in question.”
“She’s not biological family,” I said, unable to keep quiet anymore, and the look Cali gave me should’ve caused me to die on the spot. “Her name is Zoe Elphesian, and she helped me save Grey Farmless’s life. Her rank was a four the last time I saw her, and if what Cali tells me about Scipio is correct, then she’ll continue to fall. Especially if I’m missing.”
There was a silence, and then the voice returned. “I assume this is Squire Castell.”
“Drop the Squire, and call me Liana. What should I call you?”
“Hey—nice try, Liana. The only name I will give you is ‘Mercury.’ Cali, I would be willing to discuss my assessment and findings later and in private a week from now. I trust that you’ll honor that request.”
“Hey, now, wait a minute,” I started, my face heating as my panic grew. “My friend doesn’t have a week—she might only have days. I need your help to get her out of there, without drawing too much attention to myself.”
“Which is why we have to move slowly with these things,” the voice said through the speakers. “Being fast is the same thing as being sloppy, and we can’t afford to have any mess whatsoever.”
“Please, Mercury. Her life is on the line. She’s one rank short of mandatory treatment at the Medica, where they’ll force who knows what down her throat and turn her into a little automaton who spends her life devoted to a thing that will have her killed for not being happy to devote her life to it!” Mercury had to agree—he just had to. I couldn’t imagine that anyone who was working hard to keep so many people safe would turn his or her back on another human being in need.
“We all know the score, Liana!” Mercury reprimanded me, harsh and angry. “Lives are at stake, yes, and unfortunately, the ones down there outnumber your friend. I have spent years trying to keep them safe, and I won’t jeopardize all of them for one person. So you’ll either be patient while I try to help you, or I will stop helping you, have Roark dope you with as much of his memory-forgetting medication as possible, and get Cali to leave you somewhere, trussed up, for a Knight patrol to find you. Fair warning, though: if you choose the last option, then you don’t get to come back here. Clear?”
I unclenched my jaw enough to say, “Yes,” and then turned away from the pad, anguished that, once again, I was going to have to wait a whole week before we had any semblance of a plan.
No, I didn’t want to put any one of our new acquaintances in danger. They had been nothing but kind and welcoming the last week and a half, and I’d really grown to care about them. Especially Tian and Quess—those two had such a way about t
hem. So happy and carefree. I couldn’t bear the idea of putting anyone in danger in the process of helping Zoe. Zoe herself wouldn’t even like it.
But at the same time... Zoe would’ve done anything for me. She already had done anything for me, been there when I’d most needed her, risked her ranking because of it. And if our roles were reversed, she probably would have found a way to reach me by now. The thought that I’d failed her for days, and might continue to fail her for more days to come, hollowed out my stomach.
I couldn’t ignore the fact that I didn’t know what her number was now, so I couldn’t gauge exactly how imperative it was for me to get to her. On the one hand, I could see their point about needing to be cautious and waiting until the heat had died down a little bit. But on the other... I knew all too well what the Medica treatment was like. And I also knew what happened to the ones.
“Good. Cali, next time we have visitors, just announce them, won’t you?”
“Sorry,” Cali offered, not at all contrite. “But this is her family, Mercury—it was important for her to be here. You understand.”
Mercury was silent for several seconds. “I do. I’ll contact you in a week, same time.”
“Over and out.” Cali punctuated her goodbye by hitting a button and causing the screen to go dark. I heard her rustling around for something, then felt her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry it didn’t go well, dear,” she said, squeezing gently before removing her hand. “But he’s going to look into getting her out of there. We will get her out, don’t you worry.”
I was worried, and I was sick of hearing that I was not supposed to worry. But I didn’t see any other choice in front of me at the moment, so I could only ready my lashes in preparation of going home. I wasn’t sure how I was going to last, not knowing what was happening back within the shell—whether my friend was all right, if her ranking was still a four or if she’d dropped to a three—it was agony. I was doing everything I could to keep it together, to be patient.
Donning my goggles, I looked down at the hole, connected my line to the side, and swung out into the air.
And then the net began to buzz violently with activity, causing me to wince slightly and falter in my next lash placement as a masculine voice was digitally synthesized into my ear.
Liana?
31
I was breathless, my eyes already darting around and searching for figures starting to race in. If he was netting me, then that meant Scipio was picking me up somehow. It meant we were in danger.
Calm down, he said soothingly, but I detected the nervous tremor in his voice. Are you okay?
I looked over at where Cali’s legs were now beginning to poke through the underbelly of the greenery, indecisive for a heartbeat. Cali didn’t know about Alex. If she found out he was contacting me, she would want me to end it immediately, as it could draw attention to Sanctum. And if I were in her shoes, I would do the same thing. But my emotions weren’t allowing me to carry through, and I gave over to hypocrisy, deciding to keep talking to Alex, while hiding it from Cali. I threw my lash, moving away at a sedate pace—heading back to Sanctum, for now.
Liana?
“I’m fine,” I muttered, keeping my voice pitched as low as possible so he could still hear me. I was only a little worried Cali would notice, but it was so loud outside in the cavernous space that I would need to scream for her to hear. I just hoped she interpreted my not waiting for her as a desire to be alone, and didn’t decide to bridge the gap. “Why are you netting me?”
Are you joking? Liana, we just had your funeral two days ago. The net managed to convey his utter consternation and disdain for me at that moment, but none of that mattered.
They’d had my funeral two days ago. My parents and friends (and, up till today, my brother) all thought I was dead.
“What do they think happened?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
Your mentor was found murdered. Everyone knows you got the call from Scipio that he was down, and the net’s telemetry put you first in the area, and then moving away from it at a fast speed, presumably in pursuit of the person who killed him. But when you didn’t come back… and no one could find you… the Knights assumed that whoever killed Gerome had killed you too and dumped your body down a plunge or elevator shaft. What happened to you? Why didn’t you come home? Are you a prisoner?
“No,” I said, alarm coursing through me as his questions grew more and more invasive, and I found myself unable to process half of what he said. I glanced over my shoulder to see Cali a respectful distance behind, and tossed another lash, pressing forward.
“What do you mean, Gerome is dead?” I demanded.
They found him on the floor of dwelling C19. He had suffered a blow to the head, but it was later revealed that he died of poisoning. My heart leapt into my throat as I thought of the pill I had shoved between his lips, and I would’ve vomited, had Alex not added: The toxin was injected into his body. The autopsy notes a mark on his neck and speculates that was the injection point. It’s presumed Grey Farmless was the murderer, as Gerome caught him last week when he fell to the rank of one. I’m still not sure why or how he was released, but…
He trailed off, but I barely noticed, my stomach still torn to shreds. I had left Gerome unconscious and alone on the floor of that room, and someone had killed him. I knew it hadn’t been any of us—I was certain he had been alive when we left. Which meant someone else had entered after we were gone. To kill Gerome.
I just couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to kill him. Sure, he had been a ten, and didn’t tend to emote anything, remaining stern and stoic. And, yeah, he’d devoted himself a little too blindly to the Tower. But at the end of the day, he had been a person. A human being.
My paranoid side—never one to miss a beat—suddenly managed to put the severity of the situation into context, and realized just how dangerous communicating like this could be. It did not escape me that if I were found to be alive, I was also going to be charged with Gerome’s murder. But what bothered me more was the timing of it all. It seemed so odd that everything had happened at once—and then Gerome had been killed by someone who just happened to be in the area?
It was all too surreal. Cali and I had just finished our conversation with the mysterious Eye contact, and now Alex was netting me? How had he found me, and how exposed was I?
“Alex, how did you know to net me?” I asked, following the impulse.
I… well… He swallowed hard, the sound an odd cadence of tones in my ear. I’ve built a backdoor into the programming attached to your net, so that when they declared you dead and deactivated it, I could still pull it up from time to time. Just to… Just to see.
Something inside me cracked under the pain of his words, and I felt awful. God, how terrible it must have been for him; how powerless he must have felt. He was used to taking care of me, and when he had been told I was dead, it must have devastated him.
“Alex, I’m—”
It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re alive.
I was too, but all this information was terrifying, and I kept thinking about Gerome, his murder, and what it meant for all of us. They thought Grey had done it. That meant they were looking for him. I had supposedly been in pursuit of him, and they assumed he’d killed me too. I had to be sure Alex netting me wasn’t putting us all in danger.
“Alex, tell me that netting me hasn’t alerted anyone to the fact that I’m alive.”
You know, I am the older twin, which means I’m the smarter one, right?
“Define ‘smart,’” I grumbled, but his enigmatic answer—classic Alex—was reassuring. He had taken precautions in keeping my living status protected. He wouldn’t tell anyone, either. “Listen, Alex, after we are finished, can you destroy any record of this net coming up in the mainframe?”
Well, yes, but you’re going to have to give me a very good reason why.
“Alex, the Knights are killing the ones. They’re not even bothering to restructure
anymore; they are just gassing them in cells like they’re no better than rodents.”
There was a long pause, followed by, I know.
My stomach churned. “Was this what you were talking about when you mentioned people dying?”
Yes. Although at the time I only knew that ones were dying somehow, and that was just because I’d noticed a discrepancy in the annual death rate. There was a five percent spike in accidental deaths in the Tower, starting nearly twenty years ago. Since then, the number of deaths that involve ones has nearly tripled. I only pieced together that it was the Knights a week ago, and I was grappling with how to tell you when—
“I disappeared.” I closed my eyes, wishing I had figured out some way to reach out to Alex sooner, but glad he was on my side. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I feel awful for what I put you and everyone else through, but... God, this is such a long story, and I don’t have a lot of time. The people I’m with are extremely cautious, and want me to lie low until the heat has passed.”
Liana, that’s going to take a lot longer than you think. Things… Things have changed up here.
I frowned as I lashed around an obstacle in the path. “What do you mean?”
The council voted, and it’s now mandatory for anyone of rank four or lower to get Medica intervention. Threes are automatically detained there for an undetermined amount of time, and all of it is being enforced by the Knights. The council voted five to two on this, Liana. That’s unprecedented.
“Who were the two against?” I asked. The information wasn’t necessary, but it could come in handy if it told me where to find allies.
Mechanics Department and Water Treatment.
I absorbed the information, but moved on to my most pressing concern. “Alex, have you heard anything about Zoe and her rank? The last I saw her she’d dropped to a four. We... We had a fight, and I’m just really worried about her.”
There was a long pause, and my anxiety hitched up a notch. “Alex?”
She’s a two, Liana. She’s being held in the Medica as a critical threat to Tower security.