Clair was about as vague regarding physics as she was buses. It was a struggle to keep up with what q was telling her.
What happens when it doesnt?
Thats called a parity violation, Clair. Equilibrium hasnt been maintained, and an alarm does sound. Its the number one alarm in VIA. It cant be ignored, and you cant turn it off, because it means that at least one of the AIs is broken. The only way to fix things quickly is to crash the entire system, reboot it again, and hope the break isnt permanent.
Which obviously hasnt happened, or wed have noticed, Clair said. How did you work this out?
Its right there in the algorithms, if you know where to look.
Do you know who else might be doing it?
No, Clair. Im sorry.
Dont apologize. If anything, I should thank you for what you did back there. I was completely out of ideas. It was clever of you to figure it out. She paused before adding, with all the parental firmness she could muster, just in case the owner of the voice was a child, But please dont spring something like that on me again. If youre going to muck around with my pattern, you have to warn me in advance. You have to ask my permission.
I promise I will, Clair. Im sorry.
No, really, dont apologize. Just, well . . . I dont know. Hopefully there wont ever be a next time.
Her mind reeled at the implications of what q had told her, but there were greater issues calling for her attention. She looked around, still worried about people creeping up on her while she was distracted. She knew this station. It was four blocks away from school, putting her northwest of the WHOLE safe house.
Why did you bring me here? she asked. You could have sent me anywhere you wanted. Whats so special about Manteca?
You have to go back for your friend Zeppelin Barker: that is what you said in South Africa. You cant just leave him behind. And this is where he is.
Clair almost laughed even as she was reminded of the predicament Zep was in. You know who those people are, right? The ones who are holding him prisoner?
I do not. Their identities are obscured, even when they are connected to the Air.
Thats because theyre WHOLE, and they eat people like me and Zep for breakfast. At the very least, you couldve given me a gun before sending me back in there.
I could if you wanted me to.
Clair rubbed her brow with the knuckles of both hands. She had been joking about the gun, but not about Zep. Rescuing him was critical, if she could only find the energy to get moving again. She felt like every vein in her body was full of mud.
What Id like more than anything is a cup of coffee.
Go to the third booth on the right.
She forced her weary legs into motion and jumped to the front of the queue.
Sorry, she said to the commuters whose journeys she was briefly interrupting. Im expecting something.
The door opened, revealing a plastic box big enough to hold a large melon. It had an identity patch addressed to Carolyn Edge. Clair pressed her right palm against the patch until it flashed green and unsealed. Then she took the box back to the bench and eased the lid open.
The first thing that hit her was the scent of fresh coffee. It was like a shot of energy straight to the brain. The insulated mug it came in wasnt drawn from her private pattern catalog, and the brew, she suspected, wasnt her favorite, but that was okay. It was still caffeineand if someone was looking for her, the less evidence she left of her presence, the better.
Next to the mug was a bundle of fresh clothes and a pair of sneakers. Again, not her favoriteslightweight travel gear in grays and blacks, anonymous and easy to layerbut at least they looked to be her size. The new clothes went with her new identity or mask or whatever it was, she assumed. There was a new backpack, too, the same nondescript color scheme as the clothes.
Inside the backpack was an automatic pistol.
She touched the cold metal with the tip of one finger.
No, she told herself, this is crazy.
Or was it?
In all her life, shed never fired a gun. Her parents had never owned one. But when people started pointing them at her, didnt it make a kind of sense to point one back? It wasnt as if she had to actually fire it or anything.
Clair shoved the pistol under the clothes, well out of sight, and stuffed it all into the pack.
She wanted nothing more than to shower and drink her coffee in peace. A headache was throbbing behind her right eye.
Reprisals, she thought, remembering something Gemma had said in the safe house. The man WHOLE is trying to kill . . . That was what q had called the person holding her parents hostage. That person had turned out to be Dylan Linwood.
Distant pieces of the puzzle were slowly starting to come together, but what good did that do her? She couldnt call Libby. She couldnt call her parents. She couldnt call her friends. She couldnt call the peacekeepers without giving her location away. Clair had escaped from one cage only to find herself caught securely in another.
One piece at a time, she reminded herself. If she could get Zep out of the safe house, that would be a start. At least she wouldnt be alone in the cage then.
Can I call up a map? she asked q.
Yes, Clair. I will advise you if you are about to do anything dangerous.
There was a public bathroom one block to the north, worth going out of her way for. She didnt want to arrive anywhere looking like a refugee.
She slung the pack over her shoulder, threw the empty mug and box into a bin, took one last look around her to make sure Dylan Linwood really wasnt still following her, and set off.
27
ONE HOUR LATER, after a lonely walk under stars as crisp and cool as a cosmic chandelier, Clair strode up to the safe house door and waited. She didnt need to knock. She knew Ray or someone else would be watching.
The door opened after thirty seconds. Gemma stepped out. The door closed behind her and clicked shut.
We didnt expect to see you again, Gemma said. Her face was unreadable in the darkness. There was no porch light.
I didnt expect to see you, either. Clair held the pistol at her side, not hidden but not aimed at anyone either. A bluff like Gemmas had been. This time, Gemma appeared to be unarmed.
You should have told me, Clair said.
About what?
About Dylan Linwood.
Gemma looked surprised but unrepentant. Youve seen him, then?
He tried to kill me.
Gemma nodded and said, We couldnt tell you about that. You wouldnt have believed us.
How long have you known he was a traitor? And how on earth did he survive that explosion?
That earned her a long, measuring stare.
Youd better come inside. Your boyfriend is making my life a living hell.
Hes not my boyfriend, she said again.
Gemma knocked on the door, a quick rat-a-tat, and it opened. Clairs eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Ray looked pissed off. Clair didnt care.
Ill be out of touch for a bit, Clair told q. She squeezed the pistol grip tightly, feeling as though she were leaping off a high dive. Gemma followed her into the house, too close for comfort, but no one tried to search or disarm her. No one said anything. All the menus in her night-darkened lenses were dead.
She found Zep in the living room, sitting on the couch, with wrists and ankles secured by plastic ties. Jesse sat next to him, not tied but not exactly one with his captors, either. Big-Ears stood over them both with his arms folded. Arabelle, in her wheelchair, blocked the door to the back of the house, long-fingered hands resting loosely in her lap.
Clair! Zep tried to get up, but his bindings prevented him. Seeping blood had stained the bandage around his thigh bright red. What are you doing here? You shouldnt have come back.
I didnt have to, she said. Im here of my own free will, and Im not making any demands, either. That counts for something, doesnt it? She said that to the woman in the wheelchair.
Perhaps it does, said Arabelle.
Why are you here? asked Jesse, looking up at her with eyes wide through his thick hair.
I havent worked everything out, but I know one thing, she said, figuring there was nothing to be gained by prevaricating. Neither VIA nor the peacekeepers blew up your house. It was these guys. Thats why Gemma appeared so soon after the explosion. Thats why she was surprised to see you. Your father was the target, and we were almost collateral damage.
Jesse looked at Gemma and Arabelle in turn, then back at Clair. His expression was furious.
Its not true, he said to her. Why are you lying to me? Havent you done enough damage?
What Clair says is true, Jesse, Arabelle said. Im sorry.
When your father didnt call in on schedule, Gemma said, we knew hed been compromised, and we acted immediately to neutralize the threat.
Compromised? Jesses head swung back and forth. Clair wanted to grab him and make him be still. You blew up our house!
The charges were laid years ago, said Ray. I helped Dylan put them in place myself, but we never thought wed need them.
He would never have done anything to hurt you, said Jesse, face turning pink. You murdered him.
If we were murderers, said Arabelle, you would already be dead.
Zep was nodding grimly. Yeah, right. Were witnesses. So why are you sitting around talking to us?
They dont know what to do with us, said Clair.
Thats true, said Arabelle. We cant let you go without exposing you to grave danger.
Shes already run into him, Gemma said.
The members of WHOLE shifted uneasily.
Run into who? asked Jesse.
Lets talk about that later, said Arabelle firmly. She was probably thinking the same thing as Clair. Was it better for Jesse to know that his father wasnt the man he believed in or to remember a lie?
For now, why dont you tell us what you want, Clair? Arabelle said.
This was it. Everything she had pondered in the long walk to the safe house came down to this moment. They were seven people lumped together in a way none of them would have chosen. But that was the way it was, and she had to work with it.
We need to leave, Clair told them. Its not safe here.
Gemma shook her head. The Faraday cage
Is part of the problem. When enough people disappear into a blank spot, you know something secrets going on in there. Remember the phone call before? That was from someone who worked it out. Someone I know. If she can do it, so can the bad guys.
I dont believe you, said Ray. Youre trying to flush us into the open.
Really? she said. Well, feel free to sit here and see what happens. Im leaving now, and Im taking Zep with me. Come along if you want. Its your decision.
You want them to come with us now? asked Zep in disbelief. His wounded leg was jiggling as though his muscular tension simply couldnt be contained.
Yes, she said. Improvement has to be more than just sucking in people like Libby, or else why would someone kill to keep it a secret? I want to know everything. These guys can help. No one else can.
Peacekeepers
I tried calling them before. She outlined what had happened to her in Maine, carefully avoiding naming Dylan Linwood to spare them getting mired down in Jesses protests again. If it was just one crazy guy with a gun, maybe they could help, but we dont really know what happened back there. He definitely talked to someone else. Maybe my call was intercepted; maybe the PKs set me up. Until we know exactly what were dealing with, we cant risk talking to anyone.
Clair tried to radiate self-assurance, but the pistol was heavy in her hand, and she was afraid everyone could tell it was only for show. Who was she to tell a bunch of adults what to do?
Shes right, said Arabelle, easing her wheelchair through the doorway. You need us, and we need you. If you can bring your friend Libby around, Clair . . . if we can prove that shes been altered illegally, particularly in the wake of that video stream . . . then thats a big step forward.
But we dont have forever to get her on board, said Gemma. The clock is ticking.
What do you mean? asked Zep.
People affected by Improvement rarely live longer than a week.
Clair stared at her, struck to the pit of her stomach with a new fear.
What do you mean? she asked.
Improvement doesnt affect everyone, otherwise thered be dead kids everywhere. Those who do show the symptoms last seven days, maybe eight. Never nine.
What are the symptoms?
Headache, erratic behavior . . . Im guessing you already know, otherwise why would you be so worried about your friend?
Shit, said Zep, looking as aghast as Clair felt.
Libby had used Improvement two days ago. How many days did that leave her? Five or six?
Cut the boys feet free, said Arabelle. Raymond, call and give the code to move out. Clair and the others will come with us.
Ray vanished into the hallway while Big-Ears sliced Zeps ties with a pocket blade and helped him to his feet.
Im not going anywhere with you, said Jesse, red-faced and teary eyed. He was obviously struggling to take it all in. You killed my father.
Do you really want to stay here and take your chances with the PKs? asked Gemma. Youll be guilty by association.
I didnt do anything!
That doesnt matter. Youre one of us now.
Im not going anywhere unless you tell us where, Clair said.
Escalon. We have a cache there. Once were away from here, well have more options.
Like what? asked Clair.
Ill tell you, Gemma said, if you tell me who your hacker friend is.
Uh, thats harder than you think.
Well, the same goes for us.
Clair looked at Zep, who shrugged.
All right, she said. That far. Then we talk again.
Agreed, said Arabelle.
I havent agreed to anything, said Jesse.
Youre not staying behind. There was steel in the crippled womans voice. I wont let you.
Why not? he asked her, fists balling in frustration. Why wont you tell me whats going on?
The phones shrill ring cut the argument short. Ray called Clairs name from the hallway in puzzlement.
Its that friend of yours again. Says its urgent.
Clair squeezed past Arabelle and took the phone from him while everyone watched her. Hello?
Surveillance has changed in your vicinity, said the voice of q, sounding faintly tinny.
What kind of change?
All EITS drones within camera range have been detoured along alternate routes. Not only that, but crowd-sourcing allocations for the surrounding area have been reduced to zero, so the drones are flying on internal reckoning only.
What does that mean?
It means that the Manteca Municipal Authority is effectively unmonitored for two blocks around you, and the blind spot is widening.
Clair bit her lip. Someones up to something, and they dont want to be seen doing it. Any sign of him?
None, but I too am blinded by the lack of data. I cant tell you anything until I can hack into a satellite or something.
Okay. Thanks for letting us know. Were heading out now.
Be careful, Clair.
I will.
28
CLAIR PUT THE handset back in its cradle and hurried back to the living room. Zep was waiting for her, looking
rumpled and rubbing his chafed wrists, but at least he was free. Jesse had gone reluctantly with Gemma, Big-Ears, and Arabelle to the back of the house. Only Ray remained, back at his post by the front door.
Zep limped across the room and took Clair into his arms.
My hero, he said.
Im glad youre okay.
Me too, frankly.
Her laugh was choked, but she told herself that was because he stank of stale sweat and tension. She leaned into him, grateful for his solidity and unafraid for once if anyone saw it. What happens behind a Faraday shield, she thought, stays behind a Faraday shield.
You havent hit on me once today, she said.
Im not the one with the gun in my pocket, in case youd forgotten.
She laughed and held him more tightly still.
Dont tell me youre disappointed, he said.
Can I be honest? she said. Ive been chased around the world and shot at. My parents were threatened. Libby might have brain damage. Youre hurt. I cant even think about anything else at the moment.
Maybe when this is over
Dont say it.
Why not? I mean it.
He brushed an errant curl from her forehead. She kept her cheek pressed against his chest, suppressing a sudden gulp of emotion.
I just dont get you, Zep. Why would you ever choose me over Libby?
Are you really asking that?
She shrugged, not sure what she wanted him to say.
Libby could never do what you just did, he said. You faced up to a pack of terrorists and got them to do what you wanted. You know how to figure things out. You can handle yourself. And you know whats right, too, or else wed have had this conversation weeks ago.
She looked up at him, not sure shed heard him correctly. Really?
He rolled his eyes. Hell yes. Youre fine as limes, girl. Too good for me, if you really want to know the truth. Look at how I sat there like a useless lump while you did all the negotiating.
Dont, she said, not wanting to hear him put himself down.
See? Youre always saying that.
She pulled out of his arms, although doing so betrayed every muscle in her body.
The phone shrilled once more, then went silent.
Thats the signal, said Ray, joining them. Come on.
They followed him up the hallway.
Just tell me, said Zep, who is this friend of yours who keeps on calling? None of your usual troop could hack their way out of a paper bag. Well, maybe Ronnie, but
Quiet, said Gemma. She was peering through the curtains at the rear of the house.
Big-Ears had his hand on the latch of the door that led out into the yard.
Ill tell you later, Zep, Clair whispered to him. Of the rest, she asked, What are you waiting for?
Our ride, Gemma said.
Clair couldnt see anything remotely mobile past Gemmas head. The yard was long and narrow. It was crowded with ornamental fruit trees and flower beds, creating an irregular canopy through which a redbrick path meandered. The path terminated in a gate. Beyond the gate was a lane of some kinda relic of the original urban layout, back when there were roads for cars to drive on.
The phone rang a second time, and Big-Ears opened the door.
Now Clair could see it, after a fashion. There was something in the lane, hulking low and silent. Whatever it was, the starlight didnt seem to touch it. It had edges but no visible sides, just an outline. It wasnt even a silhouette. On the other side of the lane was a tree, and Clair could clearly see its trunk though the thing that stood between it and her.
Big-Ears edged out into the yard, followed by Gemma. Ray indicated that Clair, Zep, and Jesse should go next, with him and Arabelle bringing up the rear. Clair lined up with the rest, glad that someone else was making the decisions. Jesse didnt protest, perhaps feeling the same way.
The air was fresh and lively, scented with the sea and late-flowering plants. The only sound was the whining of Arabelles chair and the rustling of leaves. It was so dark under the arbor that Clair could barely see Gemmas back. Patches winked to life in her lenses, but she had more important things to concentrate on just then, such as putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over the edge of a loose brick.
The shots took her completely by surprise.
The first dropped Big-Ears like something had reached up from the shadowy ground and pulled him down. One moment he was in the lead, waving with a cupped hand for them to hurry, the next he was gone.
The second shot might have been an echo but for the way Gemma jerked. The bullet struck her right shoulder and buried deep, gifting her with all its considerable momentum. She spun 180 degrees to face Clair, fumbled for something at her waist, and then she, too, fell to the ground.
Clair was already ducking into the shadows and raising the pistol she didnt know how to use. People were shouting. She didnt hear the words. Two more shots cracked the night, and this time she saw the muzzle flashes, bright-yellow flames that came and went faster than lightning. The shooter was on the roof of the safe house, aiming down along the yard. A bullet whizzed over her head; then Zep was on her, pushing her down, under cover.
Ray was returning fire from her right. Clair rolled over under Zeps protective weight, planted her elbows on the ground, and braced the pistol in both hands. She had seen plenty of movies. Aim and pull the triggerwhat could be easier?
Chances were, she told herself, that she wouldnt hit anyone anyway. But she had to try before someone else was shot.
More muzzle flashes from above. The shooter had moved. She adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger. The pistol boomed much louder than she had expected, and the kick was like catching a ball from a great height, hard on both her wrists. She fired a second time, and then red crosshairs appeared in her vision with an arrow pointing left. She shifted the pistol and the arrow shifted with it. When it was centered on the crosshairs, she fired again and kept firing until the magazine was exhausted and her hands had lost all feeling.
Ringing silence fell. Ray darted out of the shadows and scrambled onto the fence and from there to the roof. No one fired at him. A spotlight flared behind her, casting the scene into crisp black-and-white relief.
There was a body sprawled against the gutter; it had slid there and gotten stuck, leaving a red smear in its wake. Ray approached warily and shoved it with the sole of his boot.
The body tumbled off the roof, hit the ground, and sprawled faceup in the glare. The shooter had been hit in the stomach and throat. His flesh was ripped and bruised.
Did I do that? It seemed incredible to Clair. Out of panic and darkness had come this unexpected reality, sickening her to the stomach.
There was worse to come. It was Dylan Linwoods battered face that stared back at her, a single bloodred eye gaping like something from an Edgar Allan Poe story. She knew that it would haunt her dreams forever.
The cry Jesse emitted was all pain and surprise. Even through Clairs gunshot-deadened ears, she could hear the depths of his hurt. Ray dropped down next to the body and did his best to keep him away.
We have to move, Arabelle was saying. Clair, you have to get up. Dont freeze on us now.
Why would she freeze on them? Because she might have killed Dylan Linwood? Clair didnt know who should take credit for thatq most likely had guided her hand, via the guns sights. Anyway, the reason she wasnt moving had nothing to do with Dylan Linwood.
Move, you big lug, she said to Zep, elbowing him in the belly. Its over.
He didnt move. She rolled half over and looked away too late.
The bullet that had narrowly missed her had caught him under the left ear, entering just behind his jaw and tearing a violent path through the base of his skull, destroying the top of his spinal column and sending fragments of bone and metal all through his brain. His right eye bulged as though someone had pushed at it from behind. His expression was one of absolute bewilderment.
Clair was covered in his blood and hadnt even noticed.
Come on, said Gemma over the roaring in her ears, or were leaving you behind.
29
NO, SHE SAID. Her voice sounded like something ripped from the depths of her chest. She was moving without thinking, slithering out from under Zeps body and brushing herself down, feeling his blood on her hands and hating herself for the instinctive revulsion she felt.
Thats it. Come on.
Gemma pulled at her, forced her to her feet for the second time that day. Clair fought her, not wanting to accept anything that was happening to her. She had seen Gemma fall to the ground, but now she was upright, bleeding from her shoulder, and very much alive. Why was she standing when Zep was not? Why was Clair?
We cant leave him, she said, wrenching herself free.
You really want to stay here and wait for the PKs? Two guns, two dead bodies, one murderer. Thatll wrap things up nicely for them. Couldnt be simpler.
Clair stood over Zep and told herself to do as the woman said. Her legs felt as unreliable as saplings in a storm, though. She could feel the world turning, rotating, uncaring. Her hands were still numb from firing at Dylan Linwood. The numbness was spreading in a wave to encompass her entire body.
Ray pushed past her, practically dragging Jesse to the lane. Two new people dressed in black came the other way, lifted Arabelle from her chair, and carried her after them.
The spotlight clicked off, leaving Zeps and Dylan Linwoods bodies in darkness.
As though the same switch were connected to a circuit in her head, Clair found herself moving, not consciously noting where or how, but moving all the same, tucking the pistol into her pocket and hurrying after the others. She didnt want to be left behind.
The vehicle she had glimpsed before was still in the lane, a narrow, segmented, many-wheeled contraption the sides of which were slippery with illusions. Clair might have walked right into it but for the door open on its side. The space within was matte black and crammed full of people. Ray grabbed her under one arm and shoved her to the front. There was a space next to a young brown-haired boy who looked barely ten. He stared at the blood on her with wide eyes.
Lets go! called Ray, slamming the door shut and falling into a space of his own.
The vehicle shifted beneath her and whined quietly through the darkness. The patches winked out. The vehicle was a Faraday cage like the safe house, safe from everyone outside. A trap for everyone inside.
See any drones? asked Ray, his voice carrying clearly over the electric engines.
Clear, said a small, thin-faced woman driving at the front of the cabin. She was dressed in black like the rest of them, with a close-shaved scalp visible under a full-vision helmet. Clairs lenses synced automatically to a feed from the drivers point of view, the only feed available. The vehicle was moving smoothly through suburbs covered by the eye-in-the-sky drones, weaving and curling around trees, benches, and water features. Dark colors and shapes swept down its sides like an urban waterfall, decreasing the likelihood that anyone outside would notice its passing.
Well get away, dont worry, said the boy next to Clair. The ATAC is camouflaged and the drones are dumb.
Through the numbness of her senses she heard attack and must have looked confused.
All-Terrain Active Camouflage vehicle, he explained. Maybe he was talking out of nerves. He must have heard the gunshots. He could certainly see the blood. Jesses dad designed it for us.
And now youve killed him, said Jesse to everyone in the vehicle, breaking the silence of his emotional shutdown. Really killed him. What happenedhe got away the first time? One attempt wasnt enough, so you had to have another crack at it?