Killswitch
Page 18
“We’ll have time to talk about it. Tomorrow. Right now, we party.” He lifted her off her feet and spun her around, then kissed her cheek before he set her down. “And then we sleep.”
Mel approached and hugged Mom and whispered something to her. Mom smiled wide and reached to squeeze Chase’s hand.
“I’ll get you all a snack,” Mom said. She headed for the kitchen.
Chase pulled Mel close. “What did you tell her?”
“That I’m in love with her son.”
“I think she already knew that,” Chase said.
“Now it’s official.” She kissed him. Right on the lips. In front of everybody.
The silence returned. Except for the giggling of teenage girls.
Amos joined them with his arms folded. “Young man, we have rules around here. A public display of affection has consequences.”
“I’ve heard something about that, but I’m not sure what you mean.” Chase bent to kiss Mel as the chuckles rippled through the crowd. “Why don’t you tell me about it since you’re the one who enforces the rules.”
“If you can’t keep your hands off each other, then those hands will be united in marriage,” Amos said. “No rush though. You have a week to make your plans.”
“A week?” Chase let go his grip on Mel and put his hands in his pockets.
Amos addressed the laughing crowd. “Next party will be a wedding.”
Chase noticed Mel laughing as much as the rest of them. She pulled him close.
“Don’t look so scared,” she said. “I know we have a lot to work through. Besides, I’d like a man to propose. The old-fashioned way. When he’s good and ready. I’m sure Amos will agree to wait two weeks.” She laughed again.
Chase lifted his brows. “Two weeks, huh?” He smiled. Was she serious?
Mom returned with the same old food. Chase devoured it. He looked for Switchblade and found him in a corner, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. No smile, but his mouth hung open.
Chase had felt that way a few minutes ago. But now…A thought simmered inside him. Was his body regenerating to such a degree that soon he wouldn’t even need sleep? For a moment, he lost the joy of being in this room full of believers, the woman he loved at his side. But his life, as Amos said, was in God’s hands. He smiled and joined the celebration.
After a while he leaned against a wall and watched the tired group pretend this was normal life. They were happy. And blessed. Chase apologized that he didn’t return with the promised chocolate from Windsong’s private stock. It didn’t seem to matter—everybody was having too much fun. Even Amos danced and sang, the teenagers circling him and singing.
But after a few minutes, Amos dropped in a chair, his breathing heavy and his face flushed. Was he getting worse? Chase wished he knew. Tonight the man showed resilience. Tomorrow, Chase would talk to him about making a trip to Storm on the River.
An hour passed before the room began to empty. The people of the underground were spent. The time—Chase didn’t know for sure—had to be late. Hours past midnight. Mel and Amos had gone to the command center. Chase had one last drink—water in mismatched mugs—with a few remaining believers. It wasn’t the best imported wine in crystal goblets. That was for the execs and celebrities back at Synvue. Chase didn’t need it anymore.
He kissed his mother goodnight and sent her to bed, then joined Mel and Amos, who studied the intel scrolling across a large screen.
“Any sign we were spotted coming into town?” he asked as he sat beside Mel.
“No, but the other branches in the area report a lot of WR activity nearby,” she told him.
“They haven’t been discovered, I hope.”
“They’re fine. The people in Gagnon are lying low. A Fed showed up, but they convinced him they’re just a homeless shelter. The other branch is at an abandoned farm so far off the grid that they don’t get visitors, except for believers seeking refuge. No one has shown up there. There’s a large homeless population in that area. The report is the Feds questioned some of those people, but they knew better than to talk about the church base.”
“Let me guess,” Chase said. “The church there feeds the homeless.”
“You got it,” she said.
Amos looked at Chase. “Son, how long do you think they’ll keep up this search?”
“Until they find me.”
“So they’ll be looking forever.” Amos cleared his throat. “We have to find a way to throw them off. Melody, can you plant a fake signal? Like the one that was coming in on your laptop?”
She stared at the screen for a moment. “I don’t know, Amos. We can’t interact with the WR now. Can’t manipulate them like we did before.”
Guilt and regret welled up in Chase with a bit of the self-pity Mel hated. He shook it off. “Melody, you’ve got to be tired. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room. I don’t think there’s anything else we can do tonight.”
Amos stood. “He’s right. We don’t appear to be in imminent danger. Let’s get some sleep.” He left for his room.
“Yeah, all right,” Mel said. “Goodnight, Amos.”
He lifted his hand and waved without turning around.
Chase got up and pulled Mel up out of her chair, and they headed for the dorm area. The lights had gone off in the hall, but a few remaining lights from the command center provided a glow.
Chase stopped at Mel’s door, took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her lips. He didn’t want to let go.
But he couldn’t rush into wedding plans. Too many unknowns. He dropped his arms and she pulled away.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, Chase.”
“I’ve got to get used to living without the exoself. To find a new way to fit in here. And there’s a lot for me to learn about being a Christian.”
“Welcome to the club,” she said. “I’ll get you a paper Bible. I was close, I think, to getting one into your systems. But…”
“Never mind. The Lord will provide. Right?”
“Chase, all that talk of marriage wasn’t my idea. They were just playing. We have to do something for entertainment down here.” She took his hand and then let it go. “There is no pressure. Not from me.”
He bent in for a quick kiss.
She smiled. “We’ve been talking about having real services at Blue Sky Field. You were so right when you said we’re too caught up in just surviving. I think we’ve all forgotten what we stand for.”
“What do you…we…stand for? Why are we hiding in a hole in the ground? It doesn’t feel right to me, Mel.”
She yawned and reached for the door knob. “I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. He kissed her one more time. “Sleep well.”
“See you at breakfast,” she said. “Or lunch.”
He lifted her hand to kiss it. “See you.”
She went into her room and closed the door.
On his way to his own room Chase passed Switchblade.
“Who woke the dead?” Chase asked him.
“Hah. Go on to bed,” Switchblade said. “Don’t trip over nothing. You ain’t used to getting around without your super powers. Get some rest—we got stuff to do.”
“Like what?”
“We gotta find Sparky and put him back where he belongs.” Switchblade staggered off as he yawned and scratched his head. “By the way, welcome to the family, brother.”
A few days ago Chase couldn’t stand the guy. Now they were brothers. With a mission, it seemed. Even if they found the exoself, getting it back inside Chase would be impossible. Unless he could get in touch with Robert. Or rather, get Mel in touch with Robert. Chase didn’t have a chance without her.
Thinking of her, he smiled. Leaving her down the hall was a little harder tonight. There was a new kind of hole in him now. One that could only be filled by giving the people what they wanted—a wedding. He stepped into his room, closed
his eyes, and muttered a wish. No, a prayer.
“I hope it can happen. Someday.”
38
Chase awoke a few hours later. He’d been able to sleep only after telling himself to do so. He shut down. But how? When the WR gave up on the world’s first transhuman and stripped Chase of his abilities, Robert said the exoself wasn’t really gone. It was still inside Chase, only dormant. Was it true this time? It seemed as if it had physically removed itself and taken refuge in Mel’s laptop. There was a bigger question: Without the exoself, how was Chase able to develop new abilities? Like healing a broken leg.
And how could a computer program look out for itself? If it was nearby, could it jump back into Chase the same way it left? Without anyone to do the reprogramming?
“Um, God,” he said. “I don’t understand. Well, You must know that about me by now. I don’t get how this thing operates—how it could be gone and then show up again. I don’t care that it’s gone. But it might be helpful if I got it back, I guess. I don’t know how this Spirit thing works either, but I know You’re with me. Mel and Switch say You won’t leave me the way old Sparky did. Well, thanks for that. Amen.”
It’d get easier—talking to God. But even now it felt like flying with no fear. Like freedom. Like the first breath of real life. The exoself would be an intrusion to what was going on inside Chase. “I’m not going to look for it.”
Switchblade could go on a mission if he wanted to. He’d never find it on his own.
Chase got out of bed and grabbed his toothbrush and clean clothes, among other items, for a trip down the hall to the bathroom. He needed a shower. Nothing in his changing body prevented what happened after a couple of days neglecting personal hygiene.
The lights in the hall weren’t on yet—it must be early. Chase managed to find the bathroom in the dark, flipped on the light, and cleaned up. Then he took a look in the mirror and decided, once again, to let the beard grow. It’d work well with the hair covering the tops of his ears. He studied his eyes. The darker blue tone that had come from the night vision enhancement was still there. He was stuck with that, he guessed.
He didn’t look any different since his…What was it? Conversion? He was the same old Chase.
“What are you thinking?” he asked his reflection. “The old Chase has been gone.”
The eerie shading of his formerly baby blue eyes sent a shiver up his spine. No processors sparked, but he could almost count them as if they did. “You’re still wired.” He examined his wounded shoulder. Not a mark remained. “And you’ve got some creepy gadgets in your blood.”
Shaking his head, he turned from the mirror and pulled on tattered jeans. The white shirt was missing a button. Not exactly the designer suit he’d have slipped into a few months ago.
He smiled. “This is the life.”
Walking into the now lighted hall, he met a couple of guys coming toward him.
“Figured you’d sleep all day,” one of the men said with a smile.
Chase shrugged. “It’s a fine morning. No sense wasting it.”
The men went on toward the bathroom. Chase headed for the dining hall, where he found a few people up early enough to prepare breakfast. Mel wasn’t one of them—no surprise. Chase hoped she’d be able to sleep until noon. But there’d be work to do long before then.
He went into the kitchen and offered to help, but four ladies shooed him away, so he walked to the command center.
Amos sat at a station, his head resting on his palms.
“Are you all right?” Chase asked.
He strained his eyes upward and let out a breath. “Feeling pretty bad.”
Chase sat beside him and patted his knee. “Is it getting worse?”
Amos didn’t answer. Instead he put a smile on his face and opened a program on the computer in front of him. “Looks like we might be getting some corned beef.”
“I wish—”
“No more wishing. Now, you hope. And pray. It’s all we have. It’s enough.”
Chase opened his eyes wide. “I can’t believe you just said that. I figured it out already, I think. Last night. But then I forgot.”
“It’s the way of the believer, Chase. We learn something and then we learn it again. And again.”
“I guess I’m feeling like I should be able to do what I came here to do,” Chase said.
“Melody told me you saved her life last night. Without any super powers.”
“She wouldn’t have been in that predicament if it wasn’t for me. Women are always falling off cliffs—or buildings—when I’m around. Just another near disaster. A day in the life of a transhuman.”
“Women have fallen off buildings?”
“Well, only one. Back in NYC. I should have dropped her.”
“Let me guess—your director. What was her name? Kerstin?”
Chase quivered. He didn’t want to tell anyone else about the vexing hologram. “Yeah. The point is I can’t help you the way I could before,” he said. “I can’t even tell you if the Feds are coming.”
Something thudded above them and the lights flickered.
“The Feds are coming,” Amos said with a laugh.
Chase laughed too. “More like the construction crew.” But it wasn’t funny. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and rubbed his hands together. “They could find us down here, you know.”
“Sooner or later they’ll stumble into the room with the paintings and they might pull them out to haul off to a real museum. And they’ll find the passage.”
“What if we get rid of the paintings and board up the hole?” Chase asked.
Amos nodded. “Might work. We can use the passage in the alley to come and go.”
“So you know about that. Switchblade thinks it’s his own personal exit.”
“I figured he was using it—he likes to explore.”
Chase studied the computer screen. Information passed back and forth between various branches of the underground. The system worked. No exoself needed.
But spying on the WR and manipulating their plans wouldn’t happen again. Chase didn’t know how it’d happened to begin with. Robert told him he was disconnected from the WR, but then he was right back in. Until the killswitch. He shook his head.
“God will provide,” he said.
“Yes,” Amos said. “Provide what?”
Chase smiled. “Whatever.”
A few others entered, greeted Amos and Chase, and got to work. Mel lilted in, her hand extended. “Good morning,” she said. She took Chase’s hand in hers and gave it a business-like shake. Then she winked.
“Uh, yeah. Good morning, Miss Melody. Ready for another day of programming the underworld? Let me know if I can be of assistance.”
“Cut it out, you two,” Amos said. “I’ll lay off the wedding stuff.” He nudged Chase with his elbow. “Go ahead and give her a proper greeting. But be careful, young man. We do have rules.”
Chase stood and put his arms around Mel and whispered in her ear. “Are you always so beautiful first thing in the morning?”
She giggled and gave him a quick kiss. “What’s going on? You hardworking men are missing breakfast.”
Chase pulled away and got her a chair. She sat beside Amos, and Chase took the chair on the other side of her.
“We were thinking about robbing an art museum,” Chase told her. “You in?”
“What? Are you serious?”
What sounded like a wall collapsing above them shook the room. A computer fell from a desktop and crashed to the floor. Mel eyes darted upward as she grabbed Chase’s hand.
“Dear God, help us,” she said. “They’re going to find us.”
“Don’t be afraid,” Chase told her. “But we need to be proactive. We’re going to move the paintings and block up the hole.”
“They’ll hear you,” Mel said.
“Not with all that noise they’re making. Besides, that hall with all the doors is a long way from the main rooms where they’re working
. I doubt they’d think anything of it. Probably just think it’s old pipes or something.”
“How do you plan to get those paintings through a hole that’s roughly four feet in diameter? Ciel Bleu Domaine is six feet wide. None of the rest of them will fit either.”
“We’ll have to take the wall out,” Chase said. “Then we’ll put it back. When we’re done, no one will know the hole was ever there.”
“Or we could cut up the paintings and slide them right through,” Amos said.
What was he suggesting? Chase couldn’t consider that. “I say we preserve them. They’re part of the history of this town, and of the underground. Part of our history.”
“I agree,” Mel said. “I guess it might work, but you don’t need to be doing this. There are plenty of other men here who can handle the job. You’ve been through enough.”
“She’s right,” Amos said. “We’ll get a crew together to move the paintings and get rid of that hole.”
“I need to feel useful. I’ve recovered from my injuries. I’m not even tired. In fact…”
“What?” Mel gave him a firm stare.
Chase opened his mouth, inhaled, and pressed his lips shut.
“Right now, mister. No more secrets.”
He nodded. “Last night, it seemed like the longer I stayed awake, the less I needed sleep. And then I sort of shut myself down. I had to make myself go to sleep. Can you explain that?”
Mel took his hand in hers and frowned.
Amos rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you were just hyped up from the party.”
“I don’t think so,” Chase said. “Mel?”
“Nobody knows more than Robert Fiender how all this works. I really wish I could talk to him.”
“No more wishing,” Chase said. “We hope and we pray. And that is enough.” He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips.
Mel smiled. “Now don’t tell me that being a transhuman means you’re growth as a new believer will be exponential.”
“I have no idea, Miss Melody. But nothing surprises me anymore.”