Ellin was the smallest of the three of them, so she’d volunteered to take on this part of the mission. She crawled around a large tread, then slid herself underneath the machine’s body.
Once in place, she flipped open the multi-tool in her hand. Its luminescent paint emitted a dull glow. She examined the underside of the equipment, which looked just like the diagrams she’d studied in a digital repair manual.
Her first step was removing a metal panel. The screwdriver on her multi-tool should do the job. It was trickier than she’d expected; the screws were tight, and getting leverage in such a cramped space was almost impossible. After several minutes of hand-cramping work, she had the panel almost off.
That’s when she heard footsteps crunching on the rocky dirt—slow, methodical, and coming closer.
Ellin drew in a sharp breath. Her feet were sticking out behind the machine. She let go of the panel, which dangled from one loose screw. Then she scooted in farther, trying to do so quickly, sacrificing her silence in the process.
She’d just pulled her feet under the machine when she saw boots approach, stopping close enough for the dull light from her tool to illuminate their stitching.
The dull light from her tool. Cursing inwardly, she shut the tool. Had the guard looked down? Would he have noticed it? Did he hear me?
That last question quickly rendered itself moot when the final screw on the thin panel released, and the metal fell on top of Ellin with a dull thud.
The boots shuffled, stepping away from the machine. In the moonlight, Ellin could barely see the guard’s silhouette as his knees hit the rocky dirt, eliciting a low, growly groan. Then light entered the space from the man’s high-powered flashlight. Ellin squeezed her lips shut, holding her breath.
The man groaned again, shifting his body. Ellin waited for his head to make its way down to her level. Instead, the light disappeared, and the man made a few more pained sounds as he lifted himself back to his feet.
“Critters,” he muttered. Then he said more loudly, “Get on outta there!” He kicked rocks and dirt into the space.
Ellin snapped her eyes shut, but not before a grain of dirt entered one.
The man’s footsteps began again, receding into the night.
Ellin released her breath and took in a gulp of air, blinking and rubbing her eyes until the dirt made its way out. She waited several minutes, probably far longer than was necessary, before opening her multi-tool and again illuminating the area.
After that, her job was fast. Most of the machine’s vital parts were only accessible at specialized repair facilities. However, it used an efficient fuel cell, fed by a small water chamber. Sometimes the machine’s movements jostled the chamber loose, so it was positioned where anyone could access it and tighten the fittings.
Ellin unscrewed the metal tank, removed it, and replaced the panel. Then she scooted herself out, relieved to be in the open after huddling in such a confined space.
She crawled the entire return trip, afraid the guard would shine his light in the shadows. The journey was miserable. Her stomach cramped every time she thought about getting caught; her knees and palms were sore; and it was hard to crawl with the water chamber under one arm. Eventually, she made it to the dark path, crawling until she reached Rona and Trett, who waited beyond the reach of the floodlights. She stood, rewarded with a quick hug from Trett and a heartfelt “Well done” from Rona.
Next, they had to watch the dig site, just in case their first plan failed. They all crawled out of the passage and exited the floodlit area, heading for a grouping of boulders Ellin had seen on Merak’s pictures and videos. It would be the perfect, shadowy hiding place. They arrived, finding a cramped space to sit and wait.
There was no way to know what time it was. More than once, Ellin thought the sky was getting a little brighter, only to be disappointed by continuing darkness.
Once they realized the night guard’s rounds didn’t take him anywhere near the boulders, they risked chatting in low whispers. Rona told Ellin stories of their childhood, tales Ellin had been too young to commit to memory. Many of the stories involved their parents. Ellin repeatedly wiped tears away, wishing they’d had the conversations earlier but treasuring every word.
At last, dawn spread over the sky. Workers emerged from tents, went to the dining building for breakfast, and made their way to the dig. Ellin, Rona, and Trett fell silent. They weren’t close enough to hear the words spoken around the site, but they could detect laughter and an atmosphere of excitement.
They watched as workers removed more stones, large and small, from the path. After a couple of hours, Ellin pointed at an incoming glidecraft and whispered, “Merak.”
The craft dropped out of view. Merak himself was soon walking around the site, shaking hands and having conversations.
Lunchtime came, and as shifts of workers took time off for their own meals, Ellin, Rona, and Trett drank water and ate Vegebars.
Their hiding place seemed to get smaller as the hours wore on. They all repositioned themselves when they got cramps, and eventually they each had to pee in a bottle they’d brought for that purpose. It was awkward in the tiny space, but Ellin couldn’t complain. It beat relieving herself in the corner of a chilly freezer.
Early that afternoon, work at the site ground to a halt. The general aura of excitement around the site intensified. A film crew arrived and set up near the rock cutter.
Rona grabbed Ellin’s hand. Ellin raised an eyebrow but didn’t pull away. They watched as Merak spoke to the camera for a few minutes.
Everyone turned toward the rock cutter. A worker climbed up into the driver’s seat.
Then—nothing. After a couple of minutes of silence, Merak himself climbed up to talk to the driver. They both descended. Merak kept his voice low, but he gestured wildly, pointing at the machine and the dig site. The driver held his hands up, palms facing out, as he responded. Merak’s posture relaxed, and he gripped the driver’s shoulder and nodded.
The driver got in his seat again, and a moment later, the entire body of the rock cutter rose half a met into the air. He climbed down, jumped to the dirt, and pulled himself under the machine—a much easier task for him than it had been for Ellin.
A few minutes later, he scooted out and had another hushed conversation with Merak, who nodded and gestured toward the on-site buildings. The driver walked that direction.
“He’s probably trying to get a replacement part delivered,” Trett said.
Ellin wanted to believe that, but her twisted gut was otherwise convinced. “He could do that from his flex,” she whispered.
The driver walked into the science lab. Ellin bit at one of her cuticles while she waited for him to emerge.
When he did, he lifted his arms victoriously in the air. In one hand he held a water chamber, just like the one sitting next to Ellin.
She, Trett, and Rona were silent until the driver arrived at the machine. As the man talked with Merak, Trett muttered, “They had extra parts.”
They’d talked about the possibility of a spare water chamber, but it was lined with nanotechnology and was extraordinarily expensive to replace. It was supposed to last as long as the machine itself. Who would keep such a pricey part around, just in case?
A project funded by Merak would.
The driver returned to his spot under the rock cutter. Ten minutes later, he slid out, climbed to his seat, and lowered the machine back to its original position. It took a few minutes for Merak to record his introduction again, and then he stepped away. Almost immediately, the treads of the rock cutter started moving, propelling the vehicle ahead. The crowd cheered.
Ellin wanted to scream or sob. Instead, she took a deep breath and whispered, “Plan B.”
Plan B would only work if they were patient. So they watched as the rock cutter entered the pathway workers had spent weeks creating. The machine made little noise, leaving them to wonder what was happening. The air in their hiding place stank of nervous sw
eat and nearly sparked with tension.
At one point, most of the site’s workers, including Merak, were huddled around the pathway entrance. “Now?” Trett suggested.
“Now,” Ellin confirmed.
Crouching, she and Trett exited their hideaway, followed by a quiet “Good luck” from Rona.
Plan B was what they’d called their “Plan of Desperation.” There was no Plan C. Either this succeeded, or it didn’t. If they got caught, they got caught. Ellin figured they’d all be dying soon, anyway.
They ran toward the border of the dig site as quietly as they could, and soon they rounded a bend in the mountain’s perimeter and stopped to catch their breaths.
“So far, so good,” Ellin said. “Let’s go.”
She and Trett began walking, skirting wide around the site. They made their way to the opposite side from where they’d been hiding, then crept up closer until the buildings were in view. There weren’t any convenient boulders to hide behind, so they settled for kneeling behind thorny bushes. From there, they could see the bathrooms at the back of the multipurpose building. They watched and waited.
In the first half hour, several workers used the facilities. But they weren’t just looking for any worker. They needed to find one of the archeologists, all of whom Ellin could identify thanks to videos Merak had shared with her when she was in hiding.
“Don’t archeologists pee?” Trett whispered.
“They sure do,” Ellin said. “Look to your left.”
A petite female archeologist was approaching the bathroom. When she entered, Ellin and Trett rose into crouched positions and ran to wait for her, one on either side of the door.
The door opened, and the woman started when she saw Ellin and Trett. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice alarmingly loud.
“We’re researchers,” Ellin said. “Back at camp. We need to talk to you.”
The woman pulled her flex out of her pocket, backing away as she did so. She carried hers in a wad, just like Rona. When she’d firmed the device, her fingers flitted over it. She continued to back up.
Then she stopped moving and stared at her flex. Her fingertip pressed it firmly once, twice. Eyes wide, she looked up at Ellin and Trett.
“I’m sorry, we’ve disabled the sirens,” Ellin said. “We need to speak to you. What you’re doing today is incredibly dangerous. Please, give us a couple of minutes of your time.”
The woman stared at them for several seconds before finally saying, “I’m listening.”
Ellin did the talking, explaining her concerns with the radiation at the site.
She hadn’t gotten very far when the archeologist interrupted her. “Excuse me—I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Ellin asked.
“Our emergency call—it doesn’t just turn on the sirens.”
Ellin furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
Hands grasped both Ellin’s arms, yanking them behind her back so hard it took her breath away. She spun her head to the side, but she couldn’t see who it was. A male guard was restraining Trett in the same way.
Her eyes flitted down. The man holding Trett was wearing hover shoes. That technology was less than a year old and still prohibitively expensive. Of course Merak’s guards would have the best gear possible, including shoes allowing them to sneak up on intruders. With a short hiss, the guard’s feet dropped to the ground.
Ellin heard the same hiss behind her. Then Alvun Merak spoke, his mouth next to her ear, his voice warmly sorrowful. “The emergency call doesn’t just activate the sirens. It calls me too.”
29
SATURDAY, CYGNI 6, 6293
0 DAYS
Ellin felt Merak’s cheek press against her hair. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t trust you,” he said. His hand encircled her neck, squeezing just tight enough to scare her.
He pulled his face away from her but kept his hand on her neck. Then she felt the unmistakable sensation of eights slipping on her wrists. Merak nodded at the archeologist, who returned her attention to her flex. A few seconds later, Ellin’s restraints tightened, and Merak let go of her.
He placed eights on Trett’s wrists, then walked around to face them both. “We’re going to watch the dig together. Don’t try to run. I have a weapon.” He patted his pocket.
An image of his handgun, the muzzle cavernous and black, invaded Ellin’s mind. Her breath caught, and she nodded.
Merak approached Ellin and took her arm. “Shall we go?”
They began walking. Merak murmured, “I take it you’re not wearing an antirad?”
“No.”
“Oh, Ellin. You haven’t seen the radiation figures from the last couple of days. It’s not safe, not until we stabilize it. But at least . . .” He shook his head.
“At least what?”
“At least I won’t have to do something to you I would’ve regretted. Most likely, the radiation will take care of that.” He released a deep sigh and spoke in her ear, genuine pain thick in his voice. “Ellin, this isn’t how I wanted this to go.”
Her breaths quickened. It wasn’t a rational response; she’d be dead by the end of the day, antirad or not. Besides, Merak might be lying, just like his claims about the climastat. Still, his blatant threat brought a familiar tightness to her chest and throat.
Merak led them to a long, narrow canopy fifteen mets or so from the passage entrance. A muscular, female security guard waited for them. She was holding Rona’s arm.
Rona’s lips pressed together in a sad smile when she met Ellin’s gaze. Her hands were behind her back too.
“Rona?” Merak asked.
“I found her hidden behind those rocks,” the security guard said, pointing.
“I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“She’s my sister.” Ellin wasn’t sure why she said it.
Merak’s eyebrows shot up, and he gave Rona a sharper look, then turned to Ellin. “You told me she was your friend.”
Ellin shrugged, holding his gaze. “I guess we all have our secrets.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Indeed.” Gesturing to a row of chairs, he said, “Ellin, Trett, Rona, please sit. I’m sorry, it will be uncomfortable with your hands like that. It’ll be worth it though. You’ve got front-row seats to one of the greatest days in history.”
Ignoring Merak’s suggestion, Ellin turned to him. “Mr. Merak, I know you believe in what you’re doing here, but please, listen to me.”
Merak laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’ve heard what you have to say.”
“Not this.” She caught his gaze and held it. “You’ve already proven that you’re better than your father. You don’t need—”
“This has nothing to do with my father.” Merak stepped right up to her, his eyes filling with a familiar fire.
Ellin didn’t back down, but she brought her voice low, her words meant for Alvun Merak’s ears only. “Today you can save the world, or you can destroy it. Please—do what your daughter would have wanted you to do. Make Ellin proud.”
Merak’s arms swept up like levers, and he grabbed Ellin’s shoulders, gripping them so hard that she yelped. “You know nothing about my daughter.” His words came out hoarse and sharp, and spit flew from his mouth, a drop landing on Ellin’s cheek. “You’re nothing like her.”
He pushed Ellin hard. She stumbled and fell on her back, dirt and rocks scraping her bound hands. Merak turned and strode away.
Rona and Trett rushed up to Ellin. She stood, wiped her wet cheek on her shoulder, and assured them she was fine.
The female guard approached them. “Mr. Merak told you to sit in those chairs.”
Ellin sat, leaning back against her bound hands. As Merak had predicted, it was uncomfortable. Trett and Rona joined her, one on each side.
The guard sat next to Rona. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on you.”
Ellin turned to Rona and spoke in a low voice. “Did you know they were going to catch you?”
Still wat
ching the dig, Rona murmured, “No. She sneaked up on me. Hover shoes.”
“Rona, do we have a chance?”
Rona turned her body toward Ellin and Trett, away from the guard. Her eyes were wet, and as she moved, one tear slid down each cheek.
Ellin’s breath caught, her own eyes filling. “Rona?”
“You and Trett—” Rona’s voice was soft, full of vulnerability. She took a shaky breath and began again. “So far, you and Trett have done everything exactly as I saw it. Down to the tiniest detail.”
Ellin closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she caught Trett’s gaze on her.
He spoke quietly, but his voice was strong. “Ellin, I wish you knew how much I love you.”
A sob shoved its way out of Ellin’s mouth, landing between them. “Oh Trett. I love you too.”
He smiled—how could he smile at a time like this?—and said, “I keep thinking about how we almost didn’t move to Stollton four years ago. My mom had accepted a position somewhere else. A few weeks before we were supposed to move, she got an IDM.” He shook his head. “Did I ever tell you about that?”
“No.” Ellin took a deep breath. “What did it say?”
It was Rona who answered. “It was an IDM from the City of Stollton, asking her to apply to work there.”
Brow furrowed, Ellin turned to her sister. “How do you know that?” she and Trett asked in unison.
Rona stared at Ellin for several seconds, then turned her eyes to Trett before answering, “Because I asked my friend to hack into the city’s system and send it.”
Ellin’s slackened mouth recovered just enough to whisper, “Why?”
“You two were supposed to meet. I’ve had visions of both of you since before you were born.” Rona’s gaze pierced Ellin’s. “Remember that.” She looked at Trett and repeated, “Remember.”
“You tried to keep me away from him,” Ellin said.
The Seer’s Sister: Prequel to The Magic Eaters Trilogy Page 24