I heard whining, a scrabbling of claws against concrete, and Ape-man’s heavy breathing as he lifted.
“Leave her harness on,” called Yoshio.
After a minute, Ape-man said, “Help her through.”
I climbed onto the table to lift Sad-eyes down. On the carpet, she swung her head back and forth, sniffing, while I sat in one of the chairs and put my feet up on the table. The back adjusted to my posture.
“Maybe we should steal some chairs,” I said.
“I’d prefer something with a higher value density,” said Scranny.
Outside the hole, Raisin was complaining about the climb.
“Come on, Raisin,” said Ape-man. “Scranny made it, and she’s a hundred years old.”
“I’m sixty-eight, damnit!” Scranny shouted.
“Just haul her up, Ape-man,” called Yoshio.
Ape-man grunted. “You’re puttin’ on weight, girl.”
She climbed through the opening and did a pirouette on the table.
“You spend too much time dancing on bartops,” said Scranny.
“Cold in here,” said Raisin. She rubbed her arms together.
When she hopped off the table, I lit her torch.
By the time Yoshio and Ape-man finally climbed through with the other backpacks, we were coughing from the smoke.
“Gordito, take care of Mata Hari,” called Scranny. “We’re heading in. Ape-man, mark the trail.”
“With what?”
She grabbed the crowbar from him, smashed an X through the drywall, and handed it back. “Learned that in Girl Scouts,” she said.
“What’s a Girl Scout?”
Sad-eyes lunged ahead, and we followed.
“They say people’s buried alive here,” said Raisin.
“Just the programmers,” said Scranny.
Carpeting covered the floors, muffling our footsteps and damping out echoes. Yellow light from our torches sent shadows dancing on the walls and ceilings. At corridor intersections, Ape-man smashed 520, our gang’s tag, in the wall so we could find our way out.
“Maybe we should split up,” said Gunner.
“Hell, no!” said Raisin.
“There are six of us,” he argued. “Only morons loot single file. What’s your take so far?”
“We ain’t found where they keep the treasure.”
“We’re following a dog,” said Yoshio. “She’s looking for dead things.”
“Sad-eyes!” Raisin whistled. “Here, girl!”
The dog turned her head, then trotted back to Raisin.
“I’ll lead,” said Gunner. He opened the first office he came to. It had a desk with an interfacer, chairs, and shelves with junk. Not what Scranny would call high value density loot. We yanked the drawers, dumping them on the floor. Sad-eyes sniffed through the debris.
The next office was similar. Raisin took a pair of feather-jeweled earrings from a drawer. Yoshio picked up a paperweight bust of Gates.
“Where you going to sell that?” said Scranny.
He shrugged.
“Look for gold or chocolate or coffee, not junk.”
“Guns?” asked Ape-man.
“Guns are good,” said Scranny. “Good luck finding Microsoft’s armory.”
When we left the office, the door swung shut. A moment later, the lock clicked.
“What the hell?” said Yoshio. He reached toward the handle, then pulled his hand back.
Letters glowed holographically above the handle: “Biometric secured.”
Along the corridor, I heard other offices locking.
“The tomb’s wakin’ up,” said Raisin nervously.
Scranny shook her head. “Just energy harvesters recharging from torchlight. The brain’s dead.”
“Where are the skeletons?”
“Gone to the programmers’ boneyard. Come on. Find the stairs. Masters would be on top.”
The stairway, with glass doors and carpeted steps, looked eerily familiar to me. But I couldn’t remember when I’d been in a place anything like this.
Other than the carpet pattern, the top floor looked the same. The first office we came to hadn’t locked itself yet. It was bigger than the ones below.
“What’s this?” said Ape-man.
In a corner, draped with a large cloth, were cartons filled with cans.
Scranny picked one up. “Beer.” She did something to the top of the can and it hissed. She took a cautious sip.
“Find a cart,” she said. “This is gold.”
Yoshio, Gunner and Ape-man went to look for a cart. Raisin and I each picked up a can. When I opened mine, it turned so cold in my hand I almost dropped it. Sad-eyes looked up mournfully. I poured some in a Disneyland coffee mug for her.
Ape-man pushed a cart into the office, and we piled boxes on it. Yoshio found another box of cans. They were smaller, red and blue with a picture of two cows.
He sounded out the letters. “R-red Bull. Cow juice?”
“It’s milk, dumbass,” said Raisin. “Put it on the cart.”
Smoke had filled the office by the time we rolled the cart out. I heard the door lock behind us. Gunner turned, aimed his harmonica pistol at the lock, then thought better of it.
Further down the corridor, we found a little storefront: walls and aisles lined with shelves of merchandise. Our torches revealed stacks of pens and tablets and interfacers. Sad-eyes shambled back and forth through the aisles, sniffing for dead things.
Yoshio found a rack labeled Ms. EyePhones. “Can I interest Señorita Raisin in some fine antique eyewear?” He tilted his head, modeling mirrored sunglasses for her.
She giggled and picked up a tube of something. She squeezed a little onto her palm.
It spread like quicksilver, racing up her left arm.
Raisin shrieked, dropping the tube.
The river turned iridescent, covering Raisin’s rose and thorn tattoos with shifting Microsoft logos.
She tried to rub it off, and the patterns spread to her other arm. “Get it off!”
Scranny just laughed.
I handed Raisin my water bottle, careful not to let her touch me. She poured water on her arms, rubbing, but it did no good.
“Look at the glasses on the rack,” said Yoshio. The mirrored surfaces flickered with logos in sync with the ones on Raisin’s arms.
Ape-man, who’d put some Microsoft shoes on the cart, abruptly dumped them on the floor. “Everything’s chipped.”
“Even the pens?” I picked up a marker.
“Probably,” said Scranny. “No market for office supplies anyway. Let’s move on.”
“What do I do about this?” cried Raisin, holding out her arms.
“You’ll get more attention that way. Especially if it doesn’t stop with your arms.”
Raisin peeked inside her shirt and gasped.
Ape-man pushed the cart out into the corridor. We were following when I noticed fairy holograms dancing in a glass display case.
I slid open the glass door and took out one of the boxes.
Scranny turned and saw me. “What part of ‘Anything chipped can kill us’ don’t you understand?”
“It’s just a…”
“You don’t know what it is. Drop it.”
I set it back in the case reluctantly. She didn’t know what I could sell. Scranny was an old lady with old lady tastes, like antique revolvers. Next time, I’d grab stuff when she wasn’t looking.
But we didn’t pass another treasure room like that one. The offices had all locked by now. We smashed our way in. The interfacers were fancier than the ones below, and we found more gadgets, which Scranny wouldn’t let us touch. One office had a case of Ghirardelli dark chocolate. It went on the cart.
At the end of the corridor, we turned back the way we’d come.
“The tomb’s watching us,” said Yoshio. He pointed to blue pinpricks of light in the ceiling that glowed when we walked beneath them.
“Our torches are charging chips,” said S
cranny. “That’s all.”
“You said chips’ll kill us,” I said.
“Just the ones that get in you. Or on you.” She looked at Raisin.
Raisin reached toward me. “Wanna hold a girl’s hand?”
I jumped back. Raisin laughed.
“You should go back for the tube,” I said. “Scranny can read it.”
“Nobody goes back in there,” said Scranny. “The tomb set it as a trap. Turn here,” she said to Gunner.
She was making sure we didn’t go near the treasure room. I gritted my teeth.
We found a room with chairs and long countertops. There were cabinets and a few spigots. The cabinets held boxes filled with little packets.
“Honest-to-God tea from China,” marveled Scranny. “Not herbs like they sell in the markets. We’re going to need another cart.”
“I saw one,” I said. “I’ll get it.”
As I jogged back through the corridor, I heard Yoshio say, “Should I go with? I’ve got a gun.”
I turned the corner. I knew exactly where the treasure room was. There must be a cart there. And it would only take a minute to stuff a few things in my backpack.
Behind me, I heard Raisin call, “Sad-eyes!”
I heard the jingle of the hound’s harness following. The light of my torch reached into darkness as little blue lights paced me on the ceiling.
The treasure room was still open. There was a cart in back. I stuck the base of my torch in a display stand of Microsoft umbrellas and pulled the cart out.
Sad-eyes ran into the room, panting, and barked.
“Coming, girl,” I said.
The fairy holograms beckoned to me from the glass case. I grabbed boxes, stuffing them in my backpack. Each had the staff and snakes symbol like on the old medical centers.
Feet thumped on carpeting, then another torch shifted the shadows on the walls.
“Just like Scranny said,” panted Raisin. She turned and shouted, “He’s here!”
“Grab a tube, Raisin. She can read it to you.” I turned back to the case.
“Empty that damn pack! You’re gonna kill us!”
I grabbed more boxes and hissed, “We can sell these for a fortune, Raisin.”
The shadows shifted again, and I turned to see her swinging her torch at me, just like she’d thrown the rock at Yoshio.
In that moment, I saw her arm in the same clarity I’d seen the trebuchet mechanism: bones and joints like the steel frame, muscles and tendons like the cables. I stepped sideways, turned and grasped her wrist that held the torch. Pressed my elbow against her forearm. Raisin seemed to react in slow motion. I saw the expression of surprise on her face, and shifted all my weight abruptly. I felt the bones snap in her forearm.
Raisin screamed. Sad-eyes howled.
I let go, stunned by what I’d done.
Yoshio ran into the room, and his mouth opened in surprise. Raisin was still screaming, cradling her broken arm.
Ape-man appeared behind Yoshio. He took in the scene, pushed past Yoshio, and slammed me back against the case. Glass shattered. I fell to the floor, Ape-man on top of me. I covered my face with my arms as he pummeled me.
“What the hell!?” said Scranny.
Panting, Ape-man got off of me. I lay curled on the floor, broken glass beneath me, my arms and face bruised, blood in my mouth.
“He broke my fuckin’ arm!” sobbed Raisin.
“Miguel did?!”
“He’s got stuff in his pack,” said Ape-man.
“Hold him down,” said Scranny. “Get his pack off.”
“My arm! My arm!” cried Raisin.
Ape-man and Gunner pinned me face down, stripping the pack off. I gasped under their weight, afraid. I couldn’t understand how or why I’d hurt Raisin.
“These are neural implant kits,” said Scranny. “This is how they chipped people. How the hell did he choose these?”
Raisin was still crying.
I felt another knee on my back, then fingers probing hard into my neck, the base of my skull.
Scranny swore.
“What?” said Gunner.
“He’s chipped. How the hell can he be chipped? He’s not old enough. He’s what, twenty?”
“Nineteen,” I mumbled, swollen lips against the carpet.
“Somebody outside the tombs is still chipping people.”
I felt Scranny’s weight shift off of me, then heard the click of a pocket knife opening.
“Won’t that kill him?” said Yoshio.
I gasped and tensed, anticipating the blade.
“If he dies, he dies,” said Ape-man.
“This might sting a little,” said Scranny.
Then I couldn’t hear over the sound of my own screaming.
***
I moaned and opened my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. I was on the floor of the corridor, with the gang crouched around me. The back of my neck was on fire. My head felt like someone had used it as a basketball.
Ape-man moved his torch, bringing the flames so close they singed my eyebrows. Scranny held a blood-covered disk in front of my eyes. Fiber-optic tendrils hung from it, like fur on a dead animal.
“Recognize this?” said Scranny. “We’re deciding whether to leave you behind in the tomb.”
I looked at their angry faces. “I didn’t know.” I saw Raisin behind them. Her arm was splinted with rulers and packaging tape, in a sling made out of a Microsoft t-shirt. I swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Fuck you,” said Raisin.
“This is your trial,” said Yoshio. “You better say something.” The expression on his face was intense, but not as furious as the others’.
“Somebody put this in you,” said Scranny, still holding it near me.
Suppressed memories were coming back, memories of being sold, of an operation.
“They sold me,” I choked out. Anger was coming back along with the memories.
“Who?”
“My parents. I was twelve. And my sister.”
“Did the tomb send you?”
“You mean orders? No. There were no voices. Ideas came to me, like aiming the trebuchet. They seemed good at the time.”
“Like breaking Raisin’s arm.”
“Jesus! I said I was sorry!”
“And the boxes? That seemed like a good idea?”
“I thought they were fairy boxes. Thought I could sell them.”
“Somebody wanted them outside, that’s for sure.”
“Does it bother you when I do this?” said Ape-man. He handed his torch to Yoshio, then took his crowbar and began smashing the boxes.
They were watching my face.
“I thought they were fairy boxes,” I insisted. “Just dancing fairies, like in the display case.”
“What a moron,” said Gunner.
Abruptly, there was a boom. I felt it through the floor.
“What was that?” asked Yoshio.
Sad-eyes turned away from us, growling.
“It came from below,” said Gunner.
“Something doesn’t like us smashing the boxes.” Scranny looked at me.
“It’s not me!” I snapped. “I don’t give a damn if you smash them!”
She looked up at the ceiling. “The blue lights are cameras.”
Sad-eyes began barking.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Raisin.
“What about Miguel?” asked Yoshio.
“Damaged goods,” said Ape-man. He spat.
“He’s not chipped anymore,” said Scranny. “The tomb doesn’t want him. Get up,” she ordered.
I sat up, and my vision tunneled. I held still until a wave of nausea passed. On the carpet I saw a trail of my blood leading to the treasure room. Packaging tape plastered the back of my neck.
“What about the cart?” asked Yoshio.
“Leave it for now,” said Scranny. “Grab a couple things for your packs and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Ape-man had t
aken my pack. I knew better than to ask for it back. I had nothing now: no torch, no crowbar.
Gunner led the way toward the stairs, torch in his left hand, pistol in his right. I trailed behind, trying to keep from fainting. Only Yoshio turned to make sure I was coming.
Gunner looked through the glass doors at the stairway, then pushed through. We started down. This was level six. We needed to go down to two. Carpeting muffled our footsteps, and the only sounds were our breathing and the jingle of Sad-eyes’ harness.
“What do you think we heard?” said Raisin.
Nobody answered.
I remembered stairs like this in the clinic where I’d been operated on. Lots of stairs and no way out.
“Maybe something just settled,” said Yoshio. “You know, shaking from the blocks we threw at the wall.”
Scranny snorted. I saw that her gun was still in her holster, so maybe things weren’t too bad. Except I’d hurt Raisin, and no one would ever forgive me.
We passed the fifth floor landing, torches reflecting off the glass doors. Suddenly Sad-eyes surged ahead, passing Gunner down the stairs.
“Sad-eyes!” shouted Raisin. “Come!”
We heard the jingle of her harness, then furious barking. Scranny drew her gun and pushed past Ape-man, pressing close behind Gunner, still in the lead. Both had their pistols raised.
“Sad-eyes!” I heard the fear in Raisin’s voice.
Yoshio seemed to suddenly remember his pistol, yanking off his backpack to get it out.
The barking changed to a howl. I heard a thud and the jingle of the hound’s harness. Gunner paused, checked to see that Scranny was behind him, then continued down the stairs.
“Sad-eyes?” called Raisin. “Here, girl!”
We reached the fourth floor landing and turned to go down.
Suddenly there was a girl on the stairs below us. She had black hair, a red skirt shorter than Raisin’s when she was trolling, and high heels. Her eyes were large, blue in the torchlight, red lips closed.
“Sony fembot,” said Scranny.
The boom of her pistol was deafening in the stairwell, and I saw Gunner jump in surprise.
The girl jerked back a step, the torches revealing a hole below her neck. Then she continued toward us.
Gunner fired a short burst. Not as loud as Scranny’s .45, but the girl staggered and fell backwards stiffly.
Gunner approached cautiously, Scranny close behind. The girl’s body was spasming, stretched unnaturally on the stairs. There was no blood, only a faint ozone smell.
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