Infinity Bell: A House Immortal Novel (14 page)

“Not happening,” Right Ned said. “We’re paid and clear. If you toss us now, I’ll go straight to Sallyo.”

If he had looked angry just a moment ago, now all the color slicked out of his face.

“I’m sure she’d love to know what happened to that load of narcotics you said you never received,” Left Ned said.

Slip stared at Neds for an extended moment, swallowing against the pain in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of.”

“Yes,” Right Ned said, “you do. Skimming off the top of House Silver shipments can’t go unnoticed forever.”

“So let’s boil this pot dry,” Left Ned said. “Sallyo is expecting us in Kansas and will come looking for us if we don’t show. We ride your rails, we get off in Kansas, and we get out of your way. You won’t make any convenient deals concerning our welfare, and I won’t tip off a woman who’d be happy to blast this little train line of yours to smithereens and spit on your corpse. Agreed?”

Slip gave us all one last look, then stormed out of the car.

Everyone’s angry. There are more rumors about the Houses plotting war. I’m afraid of what will happen if the rumors are true.

—from the diary of E. N. D.

“Y
ou just run with the nicest people, don’t you, Ned?” I asked.

“I’ve made it a point to know how to swim in any river,” Right Ned said.

I supposed that spoke to the practical nature of living in this world as a man who wasn’t put together like most other men. A man whose worth might be used or discarded at a whim and whose physical difference could tag him as an oddity or make him completely invisible as a human being.

“Give me your link,” I said.

Right Ned looked over at Abraham, who leaned one shoulder on the metal pole that reached ceiling to floor near the open door.

“We have—what—three minutes?” I said. “I need to check in.”

“Check in on what?” Abraham asked.

“I’m hacking into some private files.”

“Hush. Away from the door,” Right Ned said.

I moved farther back into the train car, and he followed, pulling out the screen and unlocking it before handing it to me.

Left Ned just sighed and shook his head.

“Whose private files?” Abraham asked as he shifted his position so he could keep watch out the door.

“Robert Twelfth’s.”

“What?” Right Ned said.

Abraham was silent, but the look he threw my way was anger and pain. “Why?” he asked.

My fingers were already flying over the screen. If the last crawler I’d sent out hadn’t found a way into the records, I’d try another route. We needed that journal.

“Because I think Slater Orange is the kind of man who plans everything. He planned his own death. He planned for Quinten to implant him into Robert Twelfth’s body. He planned to frame you for murder. And I think he planned to keep as much leverage as possible over people who would be useful to him.”

“You think your brother’s useful to him?” Right Ned asked.

“Domek wasn’t asking for anyone else to come out with his hands up,” I said. “My guess? Slater was behind the assassin, not House Black. But even if I’m wrong about that, someone wants my brother alive.”

“Which of Robert’s files are you looking for?” Abraham asked.

“A copy of my grandmother’s journal. Quinten thinks it has the formula we need in it so we can alter the Wings
of Mercury experiment. Which, if he’s correct, means you and I don’t die.”

That sat in the silence between us for a moment. Hope was a strange thing, often more phoenix than butterfly.

“Do you think Robert—I mean, Slater—knows how important that journal is?” Right Ned asked.

“You think he made a copy,” Abraham said, putting it together.

“Yes,” I answered both of them. “How much time do I have left?”

“About a minute and a half,” Left Ned said.

The crawler had run into a roadblock that was slowing it down and making it impossible to navigate the routes I’d sent it on. I tagged into some secondary access routes.
Robert’s files must have a weakness.
And I was going to find it.

The crawler chewed through data, exploiting every angle.

Then the screen froze.

“Shit,” I said.

“What?” Right Ned asked.

Quinten stepped through the door with Gloria on his heels. “What are you doing?”

“I’m screwed.” My heart was pounding hard and sweat that had nothing to do with pain washed over me. I’d been caught.

“How screwed?” Left Ned asked.

“Someone froze my search,” I said, madly tapping through abort options.

“What?” Left Ned said.

“I thought you said this thing was so secure no one in the world could hack it,” I said, panic raising my voice.

“Shhh. It is.” Neds stepped over to me.

I was doing what I could to abort the search, to back out, to bail completely. But nothing was working. Someone had their sights on me, and there was nothing I could do to hide.

“You’re hacking?” Quinten asked. “What are you hacking into?”

“Does it have our location?” Gloria asked. “Should we throw the screen out the door before they get a lock?”

“No,” Right and Left Ned said at the same time. “Doesn’t matter if it’s with us or not—whoever wanted to find us just did.”

“Shit,” Gloria breathed, echoing my thoughts.

“They’re uploading a file,” I said.

“Can you tell what it is?” Quinten asked.

“Or who sent it?” Right Ned asked.

The train engines fired up, a deep roar of combustion and gears. The door sealed and the engine rumbled up to an even louder growl.

“No,” I said. “There’s nothing . . . wait. Crap.” I turned the screen so they could see it.

The screen had gone a flat yellow, with a circle of what looked like runes in the center.

“Is that’s House Yellow’s seal?” Gloria asked.

I glanced over at Abraham, who was holding on to the bar above his head, and adjusted the screen so he could see it better.

“Is it?” I asked him.

The train jerked, brakes releasing. We were under way again, the clacking, rocking motion a little too much for my standing abilities. I sat on the cot, and everyone else, including Abraham, pulled a chair close.

He held out his hand and I gave him the screen.

“Well?” I asked.

Abraham studied the screen. “It is House Yellow’s seal,” he said. “I see two outcomes.”

“What?” Quinten asked, pulling open his duffel.

“This is from Welton Yellow and it will be a secure communication.”

“Or?” I asked.

“Or it’s triggered so that when I enter a code, our location will be sent to every satellite and tower in range.”

“Or that ass Slip could have set up a bomb and that’s the trigger,” Left Ned offered.

“A third possibility,” Abraham agreed.

We all stared at the thin rectangular screen propped on Abraham’s knee. No one moved to touch it.

“Maybe we should take a moment and think on it,” Quinten said. “We brought food.”

After another pause, Left Ned spoke up. “I never did want to die on an empty stomach. Hand over the grub.”

Before any of us could argue, Gloria pulled out three soft canteens of water, and I realized just how thirsty I was. We passed those around while Quinten retrieved a cloth-wrapped bundle.

“Sandwiches.” He handed us all flat bread stuffed with meat, cheese, and grilled vegetables. They smelled delicious, and I suddenly felt like I hadn’t eaten in days, not just hours.

“This looks good.” I gave back the water to Gloria and held out my hand for a sandwich.

We each took our share. Abraham left the screen on his knee while we ate. We tried not to stare at it, but it was clear we all wanted to know what that message held.

I finished the last bite of my food and wiped my fingers on the least-bloody part of the hem of my shirt. I hoped Quinten and Gloria had found some clothing for us, but right now, being bloody wasn’t what I was worried about.

“Whatever it is,” I said, “I think we should just face it. Deal with it now.”

Abraham nodded, and so did Gloria.

“Neds?” I asked.

“I say we open it. Find out who’s gonna be in our way,” Left Ned said.

Abraham wiped his hand over the scruff on his chin and scratched at the edge of his jaw.

Then he pressed his thumb into the corner of the device and drew a line between the runes, creating a secondary, ghostly symbol.

The screen instantly lit up. Abraham’s eyes flickered over the information playing out there, then tapped something into it. Another pause, and he finally looked away from it to the rest of us.

“It appears to be secure. Compliments of Welton Yellow. It’s a recorded message.”

I held out my palm and he gave me the screen. I propped my good arm along my knee, screen faceup and angled so all of us could get a clear view.

I pressed the little play icon. Welton Yellow appeared on the screen.

His heavy-lidded eyes made him look like a sleepy cat. His hair was parted in the middle and combed down straight so it fell just above his dark eyes. His skin was iron-deficient white. He wore a T-shirt, the edge of which showed an image of an octopus with a piece of candy in seven tentacles and a gun in the eighth.

He sat forward a bit, adjusted something, then leaned back. Welton might look like a man with no ambition, but that wasn’t true. He was easily a match for my brother’s brilliance and was the youngest person ever to take over the position of head of House—in his case, the house that ruled technology.

“This won’t be traced, so you don’t have to worry. Matilda, you little devil, you. Digging around in files you have no right to be digging in. I do hope you found what you wanted. But if not, you’ll see I’ve cleared a path for you. Be quick about it. You’re welcome.

“Abraham, you have no idea the amazing shit storm you touched off. It’s . . .” He shook his head and then chuckled. “Oh, it is
so
good. Well, not good. But all the simmering, nice-nice backstabbing and bribery rules the Houses have been playing by for the past decade or so—gone. It is bare-knuckled business going on right now. You should have seen John Black when he stopped in to try to arrest Foster. It was . . . well, I’ll get to that. Most of the business the Houses are focused on is how to hunt you down and kill you.”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Left Ned muttered.

I shushed him.

“Here are the basics: House Blue and House Red are locked in a struggle of who can yell the loudest and make the other Houses follow them. Hollis Gray has stepped up to take over House Gray, and he’s siding with House Red, who, if you asked me, is the House that put the hit on Oscar Gray to get Hollis into that position, though only the devil knows why.

“Speaking of the devil, Reeves Silver claims his
galvanized, Helen, killed Oscar Gray without his knowledge. Reeves, as we all know, is full of shit. He has a bet on every side of the board and deals in the works with every House. I’m sure he’ll come out of this on the rising tide, no matter what fresh hell we land in.

“House Orange . . . that’s a little more troubling.” He paused. “They say you walked into Slater Orange’s bedroom and shot him in the head, Abe. If you did indeed do that, let me be the first person to thank you. Slater was a power-hungry, masochistic prick and the world is a better place without him.

“But I gotta tell you, buddy: killing a head of a House wasn’t your smartest move. House Black has issued orders to lock up all the galvanized until you turn yourself in. You know John Black and Oscar were close. He’s taking his death at Helen’s hands as you might expect: guns and grenades and assassins. Domek, interestingly enough, wasn’t his hire. I believe House Orange put that hit on you, which means your galvanized buddy, Robert, is out for your blood. You might want to cross him off your Christmas-card list.

“The rest of the Houses are waiting for John Black to bring you in. Alive or dead-ish—they don’t care. Most of them—Green, White, Violet—are waiting to see where the more powerful Houses align before setting their allegiances in the matter. Gideon Violet intends to keep Clara, his galvanized, under lock and key himself. He considers her innocent until your sin is declared a burden to be borne by all galvanized. And I don’t think any of the Houses have the balls to argue with House Religion about its moral stance.”

He laughed again, then clapped his hands together
once. “Priceless. All right. So what you really need to know is that House Orange’s galvanized, Robert, is acting as head of that House, with Reeves Silver’s backing. It is a
very
strange coincidence that all the likely inheritors of House Orange died in the past three years or so. There’s a poor ten-year-old kid who has the most direct bloodline tie to the recently deceased Slater Orange, but because of his age, it puts into motion a lot of archaic rules of House succession that will take months to sort out.

“Robert seems to have learned very well from Slater over the years, which is a pity. I always liked Robert, and it’s a shame to see his temporary moment of power turning him into a dick.

“Kansas, which is where I assume you are going, will be tricky. I’ve done what I can from my side to scramble data on your whereabouts. John Black will fry my nuts if he ever finds out what I did to half his scout team.

“Anyway, I want you to know something. I’m stepping down from head of House Yellow. I’m going to put my cousin Libra in my place, which should set off another bout of confusion among the Houses. Really wish I could be here to see it, but, you know.” He shrugged one thin shoulder. “I’ll have to catch it on the newsreels.”

“What else?” He stared at the ceiling for a moment, ticking off fingers one at a time. “Houses. John, Robert, Reeves, Gideon, me . . .” He was silent a second. “Oh yes. I think there’s something going on with the basic physics of the world. Time, specifically. The instruments in some of my . . . research centers—”

Quinten snorted.

I threw him a look. He just shook his head and pointed at the screen.

“—are kicking off readings that are very exciting. And odd. If Quinten Case is still with you, tell him I owe him a bottle of booze. He was right.”

Everyone looked over at Quinten, who was frowning at the screen.

“So, this isn’t
good-bye
,” Welton said. “This is just a short farewell. I’ll do what I can on my side to clear your way before I leave my station here. That is, assuming I am right about where your path is leading you. Oh, who are we kidding? I’m always right.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Until we meet again: good luck, and for fuck’s sake, delete this message.”

The screen went blank. I stared at it, then hit
DELETE
. The screen reset to the original display, except for a line of numbers rolling across the bottom.

“There’s something wrong with time?” Gloria asked.

Quinten nodded. “Very wrong.”

“Out with it,” Left Ned said. “What does Welton know?”

“I spent a year with House Yellow.” Quinten pressed his fingertips against his mouth, as if thinking through his time there.

“Welton Yellow wanted to know where my research was taking me. I never told him what I was looking for. I keep all my notes in my head. There is no paper trail, and I always vary my research with other random searches and reading. So, it was . . . impressive when he asked me what project I was really working on. Even more impressive when he guessed it was the Wings of Mercury experiment.”