Fox Forever (27 page)

“Hello, Locke. Nice to see you again. How’s your mother?” I open my mouth to answer but then notice that one of her fingers is torn away, the digital coils glowing. I had no idea she was a Bot. She’s as realistic as they come, imperfect, wrinkled, plump around the middle. She sees me staring. “Little accident. Reached too far into the mixer. Bot Repair comes tomorrow.” She smiles, but there’s nothing
more
about her. Her eyes are focused and bright, but dead. She is perfectly programmed. Friendly, efficient, but nothing beyond that. How does the
more
happen with some and not others? How did it happen with Dot?
We dream. We imagine.
Dot’s voice is still clear in my head, a unique voice that was hers alone. It’s a voice I desperately needed to hear right now, to remind me of the whole meaning of the Favor.

The Bot waits politely for my response. “My mother’s fine, thank you,” I reply.

She offers me a curly protein sample and tells me they’re on special, two for one. I pass and move on.

It’s way too early for lunch but I remember the Italian sub I had here a few weeks ago—a taste of home, something real, comfort food—unfortunately I have no money left to pay for one. I sit down at an empty outdoor table and rummage through my pack. Could I barter with the two unused phone tabs? I notice the knife in the bottom. I should have given it to Raine last night. It’s the only thing left of her father’s—

I freeze.

I don’t even have to look.

He carried that thing with him everywhere he went.… His father gave it to him.… It’s the one Karden left at my house the day before he disappeared.

Karden did have a backup plan and Carver had it all along.

I grab the knife and instinctively pull out the smallest blade.
Sometimes it’s the smallest and most innocent things you have to watch out for.
I run my finger across the tiny engraved numbers that might pass for a product code.

Carver and Xavier need to be told right away. I flip my palm to call when it ripples. I’m about to swipe my iScroll, thinking that for once Carver finally has good timing, but then I see it isn’t him.

It’s Raine.

I hesitate, almost afraid to know why she’s calling, but I swipe anyway, more afraid to miss a chance to talk to her.

I immediately see desperation in her eyes.

“My father’s leaving for an appointment in twenty minutes,” she whispers. “He’ll be out of the house for two hours. Come and get the information you need. I don’t want your death on my hands. I’ll have the front desk let you up.”

She clicks off before I can say a word. It all happens so fast. A few seconds and she’s gone. Breathless instructions that leave me breathless too.

I don’t want your death on my hands.
These last few words reverberate louder than anything else she said. Was she calling only out of a sense of duty, or is she trying to protect something she still cares about?

Twenty minutes. I throw the knife back in my pack and run at breakneck speed, dodging cars and pedestrians, my coat flapping behind me like black wings. I make it to the Commons in fifteen minutes, gasping for air. From a hidden vantage point, I watch the apartments. Just as Raine said, in a few minutes I see the Secretary’s car emerge from the garage and drive away.

I call Carver and Xavier. I talk fast, not giving them a chance to speak. “It’s happening today. Now. I have to move fast. The Secretary’s gone and Raine’s giving me access to his office. I’ve found the missing account numbers too. They were on Karden’s knife. Meet me at the entrance to the Arlington station. I don’t know what kind of shape he’ll be in when I bring him out.”

Assuming we make it out.

They sputter and try to ask questions but I don’t give them a chance. I sign off and tell Percel, no calls.
None
. From here on out, I don’t want a single moment of distraction.

* * *

After racing across town in the crisp air, the elevator ride is slow and suffocating. The nine floors up seem like nineteen. It’s only paranoia setting in, I tell myself. It’s all happening too fast.

But really, it isn’t fast. It’s been months and years in coming. It’s happened in skipped meals, sacrificed freedoms, crumbled homes, and slivers of hope clutched in broken hands. And because of these past weeks I’ve spent with Raine, for me it’s been a lifetime.

The elevator finally stops.

One, two, three endless seconds.

And the door slides open.

Calculated Control

She’s there.

Waiting.

Her eyes are as wide and open and beautiful as I’ve ever seen them. No distance. Her brown irises as deep as night, shadowed by lashes that refuse to blink. The green eye of Liberty is cupped in her hand, like it hasn’t left that spot since I threw it to her last night. She doesn’t have to say a word. I know. She didn’t call me just because she doesn’t want my death on her hands. I step out and she takes a hesitant step toward me. I shake my head, unable to say more than a hoarse “Raine.”

She falls into my arms, hugging me so tightly, I think that she’ll never let go. I don’t want her to. Not ever. I squeeze her back just as fiercely, my face lost in her hair, breathing in every lost moment. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

She says the same thing to me through tears, and then she’s kissing me, her cheeks and lips salty and wet. She finally pulls back, her wet lashes clumped together, her eyes fixed on mine. There’s so much more to say, but there isn’t time and we both know it. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stairs that lead down.

Midway on the stairs, she stops abruptly and turns. “Locke, my mother—my
adoptive
mother—wasn’t part of it. She didn’t know what he did. She really did love me. I know she did. All she ever wanted—” Her voice cracks and she swallows. “All she ever wanted was a baby and she said I was her answered prayer. A gift from heaven.” Her eyes glisten with tears she forces back. “She was a
good
mother.”

I know she needs to hold on to the good in her life, just like I hold on to memories to validate my past. It can’t all be a waste. I squeeze her hand and nod understanding. She grips my hand tighter, letting out a deep cleansing breath, and we continue down the stairs. The house is unusually still and quiet. The only sounds are the creaks of our steps in the hallways. “Where’s Hap?” I ask.

“No one’s home. Father sent Hap on an errand.”

“An errand? Isn’t he supposed to stick by your side?”

“Usually. But Father needed something and he had already given Dorian and Jory the day off.”

We reach the Secretary’s office and I push the door open. Unlike the last time I was here the office is in meticulous order, but conveniently one file has been left open, which is good news for me. It means the whole system hasn’t been shut down and hopefully I can access the folder with the red triangle again—the one with blueprints for the lighting system in the tunnels.

I walk around to the desk. Raine waits on the opposite side as I explain what I’m looking for. With one touch after another, folders open and files fill the air, including the blueprints.

“I’ve got it,” I say. I read the map, finding the third and fourth light pads in the tunnel, when something begins happening with the files. One by one they converge back into a single pile, like they’re on autopilot. I try to grab them out of the air, spreading them back out again, but in seconds, they’re stacked into one unreadable pile—and finally a note flutters to the top. A handwritten note.

The hairs on my arms rise.

Raine must see something on my face and she races around the desk to see what I’m looking at.

We both stare at the note.

Welcome, Locke.

“Step behind me,” I whisper to Raine. She doesn’t move.
“Step back,”
I say again, using my arm to push her behind me.

The office door swings open. LeGru enters, flanked by two Security Force officers, one of them heavily armed with a gun that looks like it could take down a whole army with one blast.

The Secretary walks in behind them. He smiles. “So much more convenient for you to come to me instead of me having to hunt you down. I suspected my daughter hadn’t cut off communications with you. Now, if you’ll come out quietly from behind that desk and take a seat.” He motions to the guards who take another step toward us.

Raine grabs my arm, trying to stop me. “It’s okay,” I say. I look at her, trying to convey how deadly our situation is. This is no longer just her father who might discipline her for acting out. He’s a cunning and desperate man who will not lose eighty billion duros at any cost. “Just stay here,” I tell her. “Trust me,
please
.”

I walk to the other side of the desk. The guard raises his weapon, showing he’s ready to use it. I take a seat as I’m told. The Secretary walks over to his rightful place behind his desk, just inches from Raine. He touches her chin, and she flinches away. “He’s filled you with lies already, hasn’t he? Who to believe?” He pushes Raine down into his chair.

He explains he doesn’t have time to waste. He knows I’m not who I say I am, that every record and document submitted to the Collective turned out to be fake. “But who are you? No question that you’re part of some resurging Resistance faction trying to acquire the same thing I am. But as you well know, time is running out. I don’t have days on end to interrogate you until you break. Whatever is in your head, I need it now.”

He looks back at LeGru and raises his brows.

I feel a stab in my neck, and a flash of heat pulses out to my fingertips. Almost instantly I lose focus. The room spins and my vision doubles, triples, my limbs going numb, garbled voices surrounding me. I can’t even be sure I’m still sitting in the chair, but then something strange happens. As quickly as the disorienting wave hits me, it begins to subside. I know what’s happening. I
feel
it happening. Whatever they injected me with, my BioPerfect is attacking it, disabling it, like a virus that’s invaded my system. Just as BioPerfect repairs cuts and gashes on the outside, it works for survival on the inside too.
Survival
is its prime objective. The dizzy wave dissolves, my focus returning with heightened clarity, and I listen to the Secretary drone on with his smug explanation.

“And as it turns out, this also gives us an auspicious opportunity to try some new technology out on you. Unfortunately for you, the scan is quite painful, but well worth the—”

LeGru abruptly walks over to the Secretary, interrupting him and showing him a device in his hand. “Something’s wrong,” he says. “It’s not working. The nanobots are all …
disappearing
.”

LeGru slowly looks from the device in his hand to me, his lip pulling up in a disgusted sneer.

“Am I making your skin crawl, LeGru?” I ask, knowing he’s figured it out. “The same way you made my skin crawl from the moment I met you?”

The guard standing behind me knocks the back of my head with the butt of his gun.

LeGru shakes his head, his sneer widening as he turns to the Secretary. “His body’s not even—”

I recognize my chance and won’t wait for a second one. I jump to the side, grabbing the smaller unarmed guard, swinging his body to deflect the armed guard who is already coming at me. The smaller guard flies across the room, smashing into the wall, and falls unconscious to the floor.

The armed guard regains his footing, but before he can come at me again I lunge, both of us wrestling for control of his weapon, flailing through the room, overturning tables and smashing into the Secretary’s precious artifacts. When we tumble into a chair, the guard breaks free, aims the weapon at me, and fires, but not before my leg swings up, knocking him back, and his aim is thrown upward, blowing a hole through the ceiling.

Plaster rains down around us. I lunge again, trying to grab the weapon from him, but his grip on it remains secure, which helps me when I swing him around and send him flying through the air—straight toward the window. He crashes through it, disappearing along with his gun, the shatter of glass blending with his scream as he falls nine stories. I catch my breath, wiping blood from my mouth where the gun hit my lip, and I spin, ready to take on LeGru and the Secretary next, but the Secretary already has me beat.

He holds Raine, his arm crooked tightly around her neck, so tight that a sudden jerk could snap it.

I put my hands up, showing him I’m backing off. “Don’t—”

“Shut up! Sit down in the chair.
Now
.”

I look at Raine. He’s holding her so tightly she can’t speak, but I see her eyes, angry, telling me in a million ways not to do as he says. But I have to. I can read his face even more clearly than hers. I slowly move to the chair and sit and he instructs LeGru to get the body cuff from the guard who lies unconscious on the floor. LeGru grabs it from the guard’s belt and places it over me and the cuff contracts, snugly pinning me to the chair. Once I’m secure, the Secretary loosens his hold on Raine and pushes her back in his chair. “So, my daughter got mixed up with some sort of lab beast, or at best, a cyborg.”

“Fully human,” I say. “More so than you.”

“Who do you work for? You couldn’t have pulled this off on your own.”

Raine jumps forward. “Don’t tell him anything, Locke!”

The Secretary spins, hitting Raine’s face with the back of his hand, sending her sprawling back into the chair. I strain against the cuff but it holds me tight. Blood dribbles from the corner of her mouth. She wipes it away. “Don’t tell him,” she says, glaring at him, daring him to hit her again.

He turns back to me. “Sadly, it looks like you’ve infected her with your lies, but worse for you and her, you may have told her what it is I need to know. Our experimental scan may have failed on you, but it won’t fail on Raine. Are you going to force me to use it on her?”

“I haven’t told her anything.”

He turns to LeGru and tells him to inject her. LeGru prepares another injection and walks toward Raine.

“Wait!” I say. “I have what you want.”