Jayden nodded, smiling faintly. I cant say as that story makes me trust you any more than I did, but it does make me like you.
Tovar nodded back. Very kind of you, under the circumstances. He pulled a flask from his back pocket, took a drink, and offered it to Jayden. The soldier took a swig and passed it back.
I must admit, said Marcus, that as a medic I am still waiting to get to the good part of this story.
Tovar looked surprised. Excuse me?
Marcus grinned. The toes, man, bring out the toes!
The soldiers cheered, and Tovar smirked. You asked for it. He leaned down and started to unlace his boot. Every biotech in North America offered gene treatments to regrow them for me, wounded veteran and all, but I figured a war wound was a war wound, and I had no business pretending I didnt have one. Now: The proprietor of this freak show recommends that all women and children avert their eyes before the coming horror, but as that includes pretty much all of you, I imagine hes going to be disappointed. He wiggled out of his boot, peeled back his sock from his pale, hairy leg, and whipped it away from his toe with a flourish. Behold!
The whole room gasped, half in shock and half in laughter, and Kira found herself smiling and grimacing at the same time. Tovars foot was a lump of scar tissue and calluses, the four smaller toes burned or blown away and the big toe, the last one remaining, curled awkwardly to the side. The toenail was gone, and the whole foot was stark white.
That is disgusting, said Kira, forcing each word through bursts of laughter. How did you say you did that again?
I was a specialist in the Marine Corps, said Tovar, wiggling his deformed toe. Demolitions.
The feeling in the room changed so suddenly Kira swore she could feel it: an icy chill in the air, a spray of cold water droplets as the soldiers swung their guns into place in a furious blur. Even sitting down, Tovar lost his balance and staggered back, fumbling with his sock and nearly falling off the couch as he pressed himself away from the guns.
What thewhatd I do?
You have ten seconds to tell us where youve been in the last forty-eight hours, said Jayden, sighting down his rifle, or we start shooting you just in case.
What are you talking about? screamed Tovar.
Nine, said Jayden fiercely. Eight.
Hold on, said Kira, holding out her hands to try to calm everybody down. Give him time to think.
Seven, said Jayden.
I dont know what youre talking about! said Tovar.
Kira leaned forward desperately. Just calm down, she said firmly. He doesnt even know what youre talking about.
Dont do anything stupid, Kira.
Kira turned to Tovar. Its because you said you were in demolitions. Weve had kind of a bad day, explosively speaking, and all they want to know is if you have been
Not another word, Kira, or hell know exactly what to deny.
Kira kept her eyes locked on Tovars. Just tell us where else youve been.
I was in Smithtown yesterday, said Tovar. Came straight here from there. Theyve got a farm there on an old golf course. I was selling them guns.
Guns?
What, do you think I sell puppies? Im a marine, I sell what I know, and out here without your Long Island Defense Grid to watch over them, people need guns. Most of these old houses have a gun safe in the basement, so I . . . blast them open and sell the guns.
Youre not sounding any less guilty right now, said Jayden.
Tovars voice was thick and desperate. As hard as it is to believe with ten-odd guns pointed at me, not everyone on the island has one. Not everyone on the island has a Defense Grid patrol ready to leap into action every time somebody looks suspicious. Out here, people know theres a war coming, between East Meadow and the Voice, and people need to be able to help themselves. I just make sure they have the tools to do it.
Hes lying, said a soldier.
You dont know that, said Kira. You cant shoot someone on a hunch.
Did somebody try to blow you guys up? asked Tovar.
See? cried the soldier, stepping forward. He knows!
Stand down, said Jayden. Do not shoot without my order.
Kira swallowed. It doesnt take a genius to look at the last few minutes of this conversation and guess that someone tried to blow us up. If he knew about the bomb, he wouldnt have told us he was a demolitionist in the first place, would he? She turned to Tovar. Have you ever been to Asharoken?
He shook his head. That cant possibly be the name of a real place.
You say you sell guns and ammunition, said Jayden. Do you sell explosives, too?
Id be an idiot if I did, said Tovar. Anyone whod buy them would either be after the same stuff I am, or planning something worselike whatever happened to you guys. I keep all my explosives secret.
Where? demanded Jayden.
Some in the cart, some in little caches around the island.
Gianna leaped away from the cart. Ive been leaning on a bomb?
Its stable, said Tovar, standing up. The soldiers retrained their guns on him, but he held up his hands in a show of innocence. Theyre perfectly stable, okay? He shuffled to the cart, limping in one heavy boot and one bare foot. Its a water gelits completely inert until you activate it, and even then it needs a detonator.
Where do you find explosives out here? asked Jayden, still following him with his rifle. I thought the military gathered up all that kind of stuff years ago.
They got the weaponized stuff, yeah, said Tovar, but this is used commercially all the time. He pulled back the heavy canvas tarp on his wagon and pointed to a white plastic package, like a ration bag of water. I got this at a construction site; the activation powders on the other side of the cart. And I swear I havent sold any of it to anyone.
Kira looked back at Jayden. If this is a lie, she said, its the most convoluted, well-acted lie in the history of the world. Were all headed back to East Meadow anyway, so lets just put down the guns and let them deal with it. If they decide hes guilty, then they can put him in jail, but I wont let you kill him here.
That is the second worst idea Ive ever heard, said Tovar, but since the first worst is you shooting me in the face, Im all for it.
Jayden stared at Kira, his eyes burning into hers like smoking coals. After an eternity of waiting, he lowered his gun. Fine. But if he tries anything between now and then, I dont wait for your approval: Hes a Voice, and he dies.
Kira slept fitfully, listening to Marcus and the others as they shifted and snored and muttered in the darkness. The camel made odd, semihuman moans all through the night, and the house creaked in the rain. Even the mice, ubiquitous in every home she could remember, seemed louder and more bothersome than usual as they skittered through the floor and walls. Rats, maybe, or something bigger.
Through it all, she couldnt stop thinking about Tovars words. Was there really a war coming? Was the Voice really that desperateor that organized? The Senate seemed to paint them as half-wild terrorists, raiding and running and killing indiscriminately, but then, she supposed, the Senate would want to paint them that way. If there were actually enough of them to mount a serious front, and start a real war, then they were a bigger threat than she had ever imagined.
Through it all, she couldnt stop thinking about Tovars words. Was there really a war coming? Was the Voice really that desperateor that organized? The Senate seemed to paint them as half-wild terrorists, raiding and running and killing indiscriminately, but then, she supposed, the Senate would want to paint them that way. If there were actually enough of them to mount a serious front, and start a real war, then they were a bigger threat than she had ever imagined.
RM would slowly strangle humanity, one death at a time, with no new generations to replace it. A war, on the other hand, could snuff it out in weeks.
Kira pressed herself deeper into the couch, willing herself to fall asleep.
In the morning she was tired and stiff.
Tovar led them out the back of the house and through his maze of safeguards: over a temporary bridge, through another houses weathered patio, and back to the road nearly half a mile down. The rain had stopped, and Dolly pulled the cart swiftly, so they kept a good pace. Kira tried to force herself not to look behind, not to focus on the hundred phantom Voices she imagined behind every tree and broken car. They had to stay visible, in case the Defense Grid backup came looking for them, but that visibility made Kira feel vulnerable and exposed. Even Jayden seemed anxious. They broke for lunch when the sun was high overhead, and Kira drank the last of her water while she watched the rows of ruined houses. Nothing moved. She rubbed her aching feet and checked Lanier on his stretcher; he was unconscious, and his temperature was dangerously elevated.
How is he? asked Gianna.
Not good, Kira sighed. Were running low on Nalox, and now I think hes got an infection. She rummaged in her medkit for antibiotics and began prepping a small shot.
Is it good that hes asleep like that?
Well, its not awesome, said Kira, but its not bad. The painkiller were using is designed for battlefield use; you can give him way too much and not worry about killing him. Our battlefield cleansers, on the other hand, dont seem to be doing their job. She stuck him with the antibiotic and injected the full dose. If we dont get picked up by reinforcements pretty soon, hes in big trouble.
Kira heard a distant whistle and looked up suddenly; Jayden had heard it too. The scouts, he said. Theyve seen someone. They pulled everyone back into a nearby house, the windows broken out and the interior filled with enough windblown soil to support new plant growth; kudzu already covered the couch. Kira crouched in the corner behind a sagging upright piano, Lanier trembling fitfully behind her. Marcus caught her eye and forced a smile.
She heard another whistle, a series of short bursts she recognized as the people I warned you about are friendly. She started to stand, but Jayden motioned her back down.
Doesnt hurt to make sure, he whispered.
A minute later a wagon rolled past, a long, armored trailer pulled by six stamping horses. Jayden whistled loudlyfriendlies coming out, dont shootand trooped outside. Kira and Marcus carried Lanier onto the porch, where they were met by another team of medics. Kira gave them a full update on his condition, and the newly arrived soldiers handed out water and protein bars as they helped everyone into the wagon.
Tovar led Dolly out from behind the house, grimacing unhappily. Do they shoot me now, or when they get home?
Ideally they dont shoot you at all, said Kira.
Jayden saluted the leader of the new soldiers; Kira didnt recognize his rank insignia. Thanks for the pickup.
The other soldier saluted him back. We didnt expect to find you for a few more hours; youre making good time.
This traders been a big help, said Jayden, nodding to Tovar. Carried most of our gear in his wagon. He took a drink of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. We havent seen anybody else, so if anybody followed us, they decided not to mess with an armed Grid patrol.
Damn Voice, said the soldier. We have outriders looking for whatever they can findyour explosion out there stirred up a lot of trouble back home. Were going to stop at Dogwood for a debrief.
The wagon turned and carried them back, the driver lashing the six-horse team into a pretty good gallop. The sun on the armored shell was hot, baking the inside, and Kira felt herself drifting away; she woke up with her head in Marcuss lap, sitting up abruptly as the wagon jerked to a stop. Dogwood turned out to be an old power station, a guardhouse on the edge of the settled East Meadow area. There was a high chain fence all around it, and another soldier opened the gate for them as they approached. Kira saw more soldiers on the perimeter.
We can walk from here, said Kira, but the lead soldier in the wagon shook his head.
Mkele wants to debrief all of you, not just the trader.
Debrief, thought Kira. Military-speak for interrogate politely. Whos Mkele?
Intelligence, said the soldier. Commands getting pretty freaked out by your news. I think theyre just hoping youll know something important. He helped them down from the wagon and led them into the old power station building. A young man in full combat armor took Kira to a small room and left her there, closing the door behind him.
She heard the lock click shut.
The room was small and unadorned, though she could see from the discolored linoleum that several pieces of furniture had been recently removed. Rough outlines of desks and bookshelves covered the floor like a ghostly office, an afterimage of an older time. There was no table, but there were two chairs in the far corner.
She sat and waited, planning out her conversation, scripting both sides and sounding effortlessly brilliant, but the wait grew longer, and her subtle barbs about being held unfairly for questioning turned to angry rants about unlawful imprisonment. Eventually she got bored and stopped altogether.
There was a clock on the wall, the old circular kind with little black sticks, and she wondered for the umpteenth time in her life how they worked. She had a similar clock in her house, prettier than this onewhoever had lived there before her, before the Break, had had a thing for glass. Apparently the hands would move if you powered them, but digital clocks used less energy, so they were all shed ever seen.
Well, all she could remember. Had her father ever had a round clock with sticks? It was stupid that she didnt even know what this type of clock was calledthere was no good reason for something so ubiquitous to just disappear from human vocabulary. And yet try as she might, she couldnt remember ever seeing one that worked, or learning how to read them, or hearing what they were called. They were a relic of a dead culture.
The big stick was pointing at the ten, and the little stick was halfway between the two and the three. Ten oh two and . . . a half? She shrugged. This clock ran out of juice at exactly ten oh two and half. Or whatever it said. She stood up to examine it. It must be bolted to the wall, or it would have fallen off by now.
The door opened and a man walked inKira recognized him as the mysterious man from the town hall meeting. He was perhaps forty years old. His skin was even darker than her ownmostly African descent, she guessed, as opposed to her mostly Indian.
Good evening, Ms. Walker. He shut the door behind him and extended his hand; Kira stood and shook it.