“Last night,” I say. “Thanks. Please let me know right away if you hear from her.” I hang up to scroll through the phone and see whether I missed calls from my mom, too. She’d have thought of the flip phone, surely; she’d have known I might go get it, and if she knew our smartphones were compromised …
There are eight calls from Xochitl’s number. But there are also texts. Many, many texts.
Last fall, when I was on the run from my father, I got several messages from a mystery number. I never figured out who had sent them, because they weren’t signed, and they weren’t from a number I recognized—they were offering help, but in a cryptic way. I’ve more or less been assuming for a while that they were from Rajiv.
The texts are from that same number.
Stephanie, we need to talk.
Stephanie, please listen to me.
Stephanie, we need to talk about a topic of intense mutual interest.
Stephanie, you were supposed to stay close to your mother for a reason.
“CheshireCat,” I say. “I think Rajiv has my mom.”
* * *
Jenny pulls the car into a parking lot, shifts into park, puts on the emergency brake, and turns around to look at the three of us in the back seat.
“Steph,” she says. “Who is CheshireCat, and why did they know that the explosion was about to happen?”
Oh. I suppose that’s a really excellent question, from her POV. “CheshireCat is a hacker,” I say.
“Their voice always sounds like that,” Glenys offers.
“They helped us get Glenys out,” Nell adds.
I’m not sure any of this is helping.
“How did this person know about the explosion?” Jenny asks. “Before it happened?”
“If I may explain,” CheshireCat says through my phone, “I was attempting to locate Nell via security cameras and realized that our foes here were keeping her hidden from me by tampering with the uploads, but that I could identify the streams that were being tampered with. I looked for other holes in the data and saw some nearby. Our foes are attempting to create disorder. Significant disorder.”
“Do we need to get out of the city?” Jenny asks.
“You would all be welcome to come to my house in Houston,” Mimi says.
“I’m not sure how much that will help,” CheshireCat says. “Minneapolis and Saint Paul are the current focus, but things are happening other places as well.”
“Have there been explosions anywhere else?” Mimi asks.
There’s a tiny pause, and CheshireCat says, “Not yet.”
Jenny shakes her head. “Why Minneapolis?”
I read CheshireCat the number from my texts. “I think that’s Rajiv’s number,” I say. “Is he in Minneapolis?”
“No,” CheshireCat says. “According to his location data, which admittedly might be falsified, he’s in Saint Paul.” They read an address.
Jenny pulls out her own phone and types in the address to pull it up on the map. “The guy you think maybe kidnapped your mother is at Can Can Wonderland?” she says in open disbelief.
“Is that unlikely?”
“Can Can Wonderland is this very artistic indoor amusement park. There’s a mini-golf course that was designed by artists and an arcade that has pinball machines from the 1970s and an artist-designed indoor roller coaster that was designed by my friend Elise. It’s … I mean, okay, if I were a supervillain, it would legit be my first choice for a lair. But it’s a very unconventional one.”
“This might be a lure,” CheshireCat says. “He is probably aware of my abilities; he may be using this to draw you in.”
“Well, that won’t work, because I’m not taking you there,” Jenny says. “If there was ever a time to call the police, it’s now.”
Nell shakes her head wildly. “If you call the police, they’re going to assume that Steph blew up the building! They’re not going to believe all this stuff about hacker friends! And they’ll take Glenys and send her back to her parents!”
Jenny rubs her forehead in obvious distress. “Okay,” she says. “No cops. But I’m dropping you kids at home, and maybe later I will take some actual adults over to look for a supervillain’s lair at Can Can Wonderland.” Under her breath, she adds, “How is this my life? Also, how would you even know if there was a supervillain lair at Can Can Wonderland?”
She pulls out from the parking lot and starts heading back to Minneapolis. I send a text to CheshireCat. Do you think Rajiv is actually at Can Can Wonderland?
Yes, CheshireCat sends back. Which doesn’t mean it’s not a trap.
WHY HERE, I say. Is this all a massive distraction?
Maybe, CheshireCat says. You are aware of your mother’s decryption key. Over the months, as migration to other encryption schemes has progressed, it has become less useful. But possibly the purpose of threatening you and your mother is to keep all of us too distracted to discern where we might be able to use it. Then again, Rajiv knows your mother and possibly you are simply the targets.
If he wanted to kill us, he could have, is the thing, I say.
Yes. But it’s possible he really does want to keep you safe from whatever he’s unleashing on everyone else.
Do you have any idea where my mother is?
No. But your mother is extraordinarily good at disappearing. And now that our foe is aware that I am able to discern holes in the visual data streams, it has increased the number of such holes by a factor of one thousand. There are too many haystacks to find the needles in.
I stare at that number.
Well, at least we know for sure that we’re dealing with the other AI, I send.
Yes, CheshireCat says. We’ve reached the end of other possibilities.
* * *
We pull up in front of Nell’s family’s house. Apparently, everyone bailed on work to deal with this, because all the other adults spill out as we arrive—Siobhan, whom I know, and the one Nell calls Thing One, and a short, balding guy with a beard, who I guess is her father. “Siobhan, Julia, Kent,” Jenny tells us, pointing people out.
All of us go into the house.
“I’d love to take you all out for lunch…” my grandmother tries one final time.
“The lawyer appointment is in a half hour,” Julia says.
“There are cold cuts in the fridge,” Jenny says to my grandmother. “Help yourself. And please stay here. We’ll be back soon.”
They’re taking Nell with them and almost get hung up on the question of whether to bring Glenys. The problem is, they’re not entirely certain whether the lawyer will have some complicated set of obligations involving Glenys, like what if the lawyer has to call the police to return Glenys to her own parents? In the end, they decide that plausible deniability is the safest option and leave Glenys behind, with a bunch of apologies and additional promises that everything will definitely be fine.
The door closes, leaving Glenys, my grandmother, and me in Nell’s family’s house.
“I’m making sandwiches,” Glenys says. “Since they said it was okay. Anyone else want one?”
“I’m not hungry,” I say, checking both my phones again to see if any texts from my mother have come in. Nothing. There’s a text from Xochitl, but it’s just saying that she’s tried some other contact methods for my mother, and none have yielded any results.
“Is there any roast beef?” my grandmother asks, following Glenys toward the kitchen.
“Aren’t you worried?” I ask her.
My grandmother pauses in the kitchen doorway and tips her head to one side. “You do realize that until last month, the only word I’d gotten from your mother in over a decade was two postcards? Your mother wore my worry out.”
“There’s roast beef,” Glenys calls.
As I’m pacing the living room, my phone rings.
“CheshireCat says you’re in this house,” Rachel’s voice says, “but I don’t trust them enough to just go knock on the door.”
I look outside.
>
Rachel’s car is in front. As I watch, she turns it off, and she and Bryony both climb out.
“I see you!” Rachel says.
* * *
My grandmother makes two more sandwiches and then demands a proper set of introductions as she hands them around. I am somewhat annoyed by the fact that once there’s a plate with a sandwich, orange wedges, and potato chips in front of me, I discover that I am ravenous. Rachel introduces herself as my girlfriend, a little bit confrontationally, like she’s testing Mimi to see if she gets freaked out, and my grandmother does whatever the opposite is of taking the bait: she doesn’t seem bothered, she doesn’t start quickly telling us about her very good friends who just happen to be lesbians, she just smiles pleasantly and introduces herself as Rose.
“Where’s Nell?” Bryony asks.
“Her family’s gone to see a lawyer,” I say. “They’ll be back in another hour or so.”
Rachel checks her phone for the time. “CheshireCat gave us an update while we were driving. Have you heard from your mom?”
“No,” I say.
“Any more texts from Rajiv? If it’s Rajiv?”
I take out the flip phone and check.
Stephanie, I want to keep you safe. Please reply and I’ll tell you where to go.
“So, are you going to reply?” Bryony asks, peering over my shoulder. “See where he tells you to go?”
“Are you thinking I should let him kidnap me so you can then rescue me?”
“There was literally a Fast Girls Detective Agency plot where they did that,” Bryony points out.
“Are you saying that because you think it’s a good idea, or a bad idea?” Rachel asks. “You made me promise no car chases before we even left.”
“I’m saying that if it worked for them, it probably won’t work for us, but you could still text him and see what he wants you to do.”
Okay, this is legit, or at least legit-ish.
Steph here. Is this Rajiv? I send.
The phone promptly rings. I stare at it dubiously. It quits ringing, and then I get another text.
Please pick up.
I send, Nope. Text or nothing.
He sends back, I need to be certain I’m talking to you and not someone else.
I heave a sigh and say, Last fall, did you come stare at my apartment in New Coburg or was it some other creep I saw out the window?
There’s a pause, and then, OK, you’re Steph.
“Should I ask him where my mom is?” I ask.
“No,” Glenys says. “If he has your mom, he’ll lie. If he doesn’t have your mom, you’ll be telling him she’s missing. Just find out where he wants you to go.”
Where are you now? he sends.
Lolol, I send back.
I need to know your location so I can let you know the closest refuge. I don’t want to send you across town on a bus.
Why? I shoot back. What’s going to happen to the buses? Same thing that happened to the Hill House?
Here’s a list of safe houses, he sends, followed by a half dozen addresses, which Rachel starts pulling up in Google Maps. One does appear to be an office suite in the same building as Can Can Wonderland.
Is this Rajiv? I ask again.
Yes, of course, he replies. Your father was going to kill me, so I faked my death and ran.
How did you wind up in a religious cult? I ask.
They were willing to hide me, and the leader and I have compatible goals.
I consider asking him about the AI, the social media sites, and the civil insurrection, but I don’t want to tip my hand too much about what else I know.
Will you come? he sends.
Hang on, I text. I hear someone at the door. I close the phone and look at my friends.
“He’s going to think you’ve been kidnapped,” Bryony says. “Was that your goal?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I mean, he’s been trying to keep us distracted. Or someone has, anyway. So turnabout and all that.”
Rachel has been looking up the addresses of the other safe houses in Google Maps. “Can you tell me if my mother’s in any of these places?” I ask CheshireCat.
“Reviewing security camera footage excludes every location other than Can Can Wonderland. Which does not guarantee that she’s there. It just means that there’s a lot more traffic overall.”
“You aren’t seriously suggesting we go there?” Bryony says to me.
“At least wait until your friend and her parents get back,” my grandmother says.
I look at Rachel, and she gives me a look back. A look that says, “Let’s ditch them and just do this.” I nod.
Unfortunately, Bryony is as capable of interpreting Rachel’s looks as I am. “Oh, no,” Bryony says. “Oh, no. You’re not running off without me again.”
Somehow, all five of us wind up crammed into Rachel’s car, which is smaller than Jenny’s. My grandmother doesn’t get shotgun this time, since no one invited her. “It’s fine,” she says with a sort of grim cheerfulness.
“Why are you coming? I don’t understand why you’re coming,” I mutter under my breath.
She pretends not to hear me.
“CheshireCat,” I say. “Does Can Can Wonderland have robots?”
“So many robots,” CheshireCat says.
39
• Nell •
The lawyer’s office doesn’t have enough chairs for all of us. When we get there, someone’s assistant has to go get extra chairs. Then there are introductions. And someone offers us coffee. Given that lawyers cost about a million dollars per minute, I expected less rigamarole.
The only question anyone asks me is, “Do you want coffee with everyone else?” and “So, I understand you’d like to live with your father permanently. Is that correct?”
The lawyer doesn’t seem to think this is an actual emergency, even after I show her my mother’s texts. Apparently, what happened to me—being left behind by one parent (she doesn’t call what my father did “abandonment,” since he’s sitting right there) and then being abandoned by the other—is so commonplace as to be practically normal, and it’s vanishingly rare that someone who’s just walked out on a teenager ever shows back up. We’ll file, everything will have to happen up in Crow Wing County because that’s where they got the divorce, and although the word emergency will be involved, nothing’s going to happen for at least a week, probably more.
“What if my mom shows up before then?” I ask.
“Lock the door and don’t answer it.”
“What if she breaks in?”
“Then call 911,” the lawyer says, and leans forward, brightening up a little like I’ve just told her good news. “Because if that happens, we can get you an order of protection.”
“What if she tries to grab me off the street?”
“If you think that’s a real possibility, then maybe don’t go for any walks by yourself.”
This is a whole lot less helpful than I was expecting, but everyone else looks relieved.
“Hypothetically,” Siobhan says, “totally hypothetically, what sort of help could you offer to an unrelated teen whose parents had sent her somewhere to be abused and who has now run away from the abuse?”
The lawyer shoves her glasses higher onto her nose, checks her phone for the time, and says, “I’ve got to get to a bail hearing. But hypothetically, I’d suggest you not bring this up with the judge in Crow Wing County. There are some social service organizations in town for homeless teens that you could put her in touch with that might be able to help her out.”
That’s less than I was hoping for, but not as bad as I’d feared. There’s another round of handshakes and we’re done.
Waiting for the elevator, the hallway is silent. None of the Things are talking. My father is staring at the floor.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I say.
He looks over at me nervously. “I don’t … What do you…”
“I mean, you could have talked to a lawyer when yo
u first left. Gotten visitation. Seen me.”
He presses the button to summon the elevator again like it’s going to show up and rescue him from this conversation.
“But you didn’t,” I say. “You left me with my mom. You let her raise me in a cult. In a whole series of cults. Instead of doing anything to get me away from her.”
My father turns around, and I realize with a shock that he’s crying. “I know,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Nell. Your mother told me that I was a bad father and that me fighting to see you would be worse for you than if I just left. She said you were better off without me. And I believed her. I shouldn’t have, and I am so sorry.”
There’s a ding, and the elevator doors open. We all load on. I stare at the back at my father’s head, at his scarlet ears. Thing Three is right next to me, but I refuse to look at her or at any of the others. They’ll either be cross with me for making things difficult, or they’ll be radiating righteous sympathy, and I can’t bear either.
We get off the elevator, but instead of going out to the car, my father stops and says, “Nell. You have every right to be angry at me. But I promise, I’ll do better. By you and by your girlfriend. Like Jenny said, if we have to go on the lam to keep Glenys safe, we’ll do it. You are both part of the family, and that’s never going to change. We’ll fight for you. We’ll fight as long as you’ll let us. Okay?”
His voice breaks. He’s probably crying again. I don’t want to look at him, but I realize as I stare at the ground trying not to start crying myself that I really want him to hug me. He comes closer, hesitantly, and holds out his arms. I lean in, and he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head, and I realize I can remember him doing that when I was little. Before he left.
“Okay,” I whisper, since he did ask a question.
“And we should probably go home now and let Glenys know what we found out.”
We head out into the cold and pile back into the car. We’re heading along some downtown street when we have to pull over to let a dozen emergency vehicles pass, including a fire truck. Two blocks later, we get to a barricade. And beyond that: fire.
Chaos on CatNet Page 22