by David Meyer
“Before we get started with sector reports, I have some general business for the committee.” Despite her best efforts, Kayden’s voice started to waver. “It has to do with unauthorized communications with Natica.”
Pam, Tabitha, and Danny perked up a bit. Virdo, meanwhile, stared at her, his gaze unflinching.
“Well, uh …” She swallowed, the digital saliva feeling thick in her throat. “I’ve received reports that someone has opened up an independent line to Natica.”
Virdo cleared his throat. “I believe you’re talking about me.”
Pam, Tabitha, and Danny gaped at him. Meanwhile, Kayden studied his visage. Two days ago, while hanging out in the communications room, she’d stumbled upon some strange signals. It took a little work, but she’d tracked them to Virdo’s laptop. Surprised, she’d asked Jarven to do some sleuthing. Within a few hours, he’d been able to confirm that Virdo was using the device to communicate with Naticans.
“Would you care to explain your actions?” she asked.
“Of course.” He rose to his feet.
Danny, slouching against a column, twisted his way. Pam and Tabitha followed suit.
“Let me start off with an apology.” He looked at everyone in turn. “I went behind your backs and for that, I’m sorry. However, I’m not sorry I did it.”
Pam looked curious. Tabitha, meanwhile, nodded along with everything he said.
“First things first. I don’t like the idea of our fate being tied to that of Natica.”
Kayden furrowed her brow.
“We’re their servants. Their slaves, even.” He allowed this to sink in for a moment. “Think about it. They told us to end the Broken—”
“They didn’t tell us,” Kayden said. “They asked us.”
“Did they?” He glanced at her. “Did we have a choice in the matter?”
She frowned.
“Of course not. And do you know why?” He paused. “Because they could end us. At. Any. Second.”
Danny nodded. “I see your point. We’re dependent upon them. If they abandon Miot, we’ll die.”
Tabitha looked troubled.
“Titus would never abandon us,” Kayden said.
“Oh, really?” Virdo arched an eyebrow at her. “Let’s assume for a moment that we ended the Broken. Water floods the planet. Maybe grass grows again. Maybe trees and animals return, too. What do you think the Naticans would do in that scenario?”
“They’d leave,” Tabitha replied, her eyes glued to him. “They’d explore the world, live their lives.”
He nodded. “If we solve the Broken, they won’t need us anymore.”
“Titus wouldn’t leave us,” Kayden said.
“Maybe not at first. But what happens when his people start to leave? Taking care of Miot would become an even bigger burden to him. How long before he decides we’re too much trouble?”
“So, what do you suggest?” Pam asked. “That we string them along somehow?”
He shook his head. “Even if that worked, it wouldn’t save us. As long as we live here, we’re dependent upon them. But what happens if they run out of water? What happens if the Banished finish them off?”
Danny looked dejected. “They die, we die.”
He nodded. “So, I came up with an idea. An escape plan, really.”
“Do tell,” Tabitha said.
“A few months ago, I discovered some plans on my laptop. They’re for a satellite dish. Once I figured them out, I opened up a line with some younger Naticans.” He took a breath. Everyone, including Kayden, stared at him with rapt attention. “They’re building it for me. And I’m pleased to say they’re almost done.”
Kayden blinked. Adrenaline began to surge through her veins.
“But what good is a satellite dish?” Pam asked. “I can’t imagine any satellites are still operational.”
“You might be right, although I’m hopeful. Anyway, I’m just trying to expand our options. Give us a place to go if Luminosity becomes untenable.”
Danny rubbed his jaw. “Smart thinking.”
Kayden shook her head. “Miot’s a behemoth. I don’t see how we’ll ever find something big enough to replace it.”
“Maybe we won’t have to,” Virdo replied. “Maybe we can build a smaller version of Luminosity. Regardless, I think we should focus our efforts on self-sufficiency.”
She hated to admit it, but he made a good deal of sense. Still, one question remained unanswered. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?” she asked. “Why’d you reach out to Natica behind our backs?”
He swiveled toward her. “Because of you.”
Her jaw dropped open.
Pam arched an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Do you want to tell them or should I?” He stared at Kayden for a long moment. “Fine, I’ll do it. It’s come to my attention that you know far more about the Broken than you care to admit.”
Danny glanced at her. So did the others.
“You invented HXO, didn’t you?” He glared at her. “You’re responsible for ending the world.”
Tabitha frowned. “Is this some kind of joke?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.”
“But I thought Cormella caused the Broken.” She glanced at Kayden. “Or was that a lie?”
Kayden tried to speak, but no words came out.
Virdo gave her a close look. “Did you invent HXO?”
She swallowed. “I don’t … I’m not …”
“Did you?”
All she could do was nod.
Chapter 7
Kayden hurried to the next intersection. Although late, there were quite a few walkers out. Still, she had no trouble spotting Virdo in the distance, strolling across cobblestones.
She was tempted to call out to him. But she didn’t want to make a scene. So, she adopted a fast pace and walked after him.
His revelation, coupled with her admission of guilt, had sent shockwaves through the Steering Committee. She’d tried to apologize, to tell the others that she didn’t even remember inventing HXO. But they’d refused to listen.
Afterward, the members had asked her to step away. They’d conducted a quick, private vote. When she’d returned, she was no longer a member of the committee. Any punishment, she was told, would be decided upon once her replacement had been selected.
While they finished their meeting, Kayden had crossed the park. She’d begun pacing the streets, lost in her head. Truthfully, she didn’t care about being kicked out of the committee. If anything, it gave her more time to work on her research. But she needed to talk to Virdo. On one hand, she wanted to know how he’d found out about her role in HXO’s development. On the other hand, she was pretty sure his satellite dish was what she needed to end the Broken.
After the meeting broke up, she’d seen the members leave the colonnade. Virdo had taken off and she’d raced to follow him. Unfortunately, he was a fast walker and she had yet to catch up to him.
Virdo took a left at Ash Street. Arriving at the corner, she looked for him. There were only a couple of walkers crossing the cobblestones. That didn’t surprise her. Ash Street was home to a large number of unoccupied apartment buildings. Popular opinion held that Emma had designed them to hold future occupants. But the Broken—along with the subsequent end of civilization—had thrown those plans for a loop.
Her heart jack-hammered against her chest as she studied the people. Where was Virdo?
She shifted to the left. Then she began to slowly swivel to the right, searching every inch of the landscape. Finally, she spotted a five-floor brownstone building. A staircase led up to the arched entryway. Virdo stood at the top of the steps, his head twisting in either direction. Then he took hold of a thick metal handle and gave it a tug. A glass door popped open. He walked inside, then closed the door shut.
She frowned. She’d been to Virdo’s home before. He lived three blocks away, at the Opal Gardens on Pine Street. So, what was he doing h
ere?
She walked to the building. A marquee above the entryway read, Sapphire Place. She didn’t recognize it, so she scanned its exterior. There were no curtains in the windows. No flower boxes or decorations, either. Evidently, Sapphire Place was one of Emma’s empty structures, forever awaiting non-existent inhabitants.
The staircase tempted her and she nearly started up its well-swept steps. But at the last second, she glanced up at the building’s edifice. High above, she noticed something she’d missed before. A light, emanating from the top floor.
Retreating to the street, she sought out a better angle. Finding one she liked, she studied the light. It originated from a tall window. A few shadows moving around the area. Unfortunately, whatever was making them kept their distance from the glass.
Is he meeting someone? she wondered.
Her curiosity piqued, she looked around. Across the street, she saw another brownstone. Like Sapphire Place, it was unoccupied. Darting up the front steps, she threw the door open. Disappearing inside, she found herself in a clean, nicely-decorated lobby.
She hurried to the elevator and took it to the top floor. Exiting into a hallway, she saw about a dozen doors. Taking stock of her position, she tried one. Finding it unlocked, she walked inside.
She found herself in an untouched apartment. It was nicer than hers. Bigger, too. But she didn’t care about that. All she cared about was the view.
A couple of windows lay before her, flooded with light from nearby gas lamps. Gliding to the closest one, she stared across the street.
Her gaze was drawn to the light she’d seen from below, which was located at a slight angle from her vantage point. Squinting, she saw Virdo talking to someone. But who?
Turning slightly, she saw a feminine silhouette. Did that explain Virdo’s secrecy? Was he seeing a married woman?
The woman twisted at the hips, looking toward the window. Her eyes stared through the glass. For a fraction of a second, her gaze met that of Kayden.
Her jaw opened wide. Virdo spun toward the window. His expression darkened as he caught sight of Kayden. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the woman, doing her best not to faint on the spot.
Virdo and the woman stole out of view. Then the light vanished, leaving darkness in its wake. Kayden remained still for another few seconds, covered in cold sweat. There was no denying who she’d just seen.
It was her. The woman who’d kicked off Protocol Forty-Eight. The woman who’d stolen their memories, not to mention centuries of their lives.
It was Cormella Dodge.
Chapter 8
Titus placed his ear up against the door. He closed his eyes, shut down his other senses. For a few minutes, he focused only on his hearing. All was silent. Presumably, the drystorm had moved on.
Standing up straight, he grabbed the knob. Bracing himself, he gave it a twist, then cracked the door open. A light breeze wafted against his skin.
He stepped outside. The sand felt relatively cool beneath his feet. The air was warm, but breathable. High above, the moon shone like a beacon in the black sky, providing some light to the otherwise dark fort.
People flooded past him. Shouts rang out as department chiefs began to organize cleanup crews. Serious problems, such as those affecting water or power, would be dealt with immediately. Nonessential damages would be looked at in the morning.
All around him, Titus sensed a fearful mood. And why not? For the first time in any of their lives, sandswarms had breached Natica’s wall. What kind of damage had they done? Had they left with the drystorm? Or were they still around, swirling in endless circles, desiccating anything they touched?
“Hold up, everyone,” he shouted.
The crowd came to a halt. Tired faces swiveled in his direction.
“We need to check for sandswarms.” He turned toward Stanner. “Organize a couple of teams. Search the reservoir, the sheds, the apartments, everywhere.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied.
“What would a sandswarm even look like without a drystorm?” Podey wondered aloud. “Would it be dormant?”
Titus shook his head. “They’ve got internal winds. That’s how they’re able to move separately from larger storms.”
Stanner peeled off and went back into the compound. A few minutes later, he emerged again, accompanied by eight full-time soldiers. They walked toward the gate, then split off into groups of three. Two groups began searching structures. The third group, led by Stanner, hiked alongside the massive wall, inspecting open spaces.
The crowd swelled as more residents exited the compound. People began to slump to the sand, with most taking a seat against the wall. Some looked dejected and tired. Others looked scared. But most of them sported angry expressions and tense muscles.
“What’s going on?” Kew asked.
Orro Laplon, a solar farmer, gave him a look. “They’re looking for sandswarms.”
“They’re still here?”
“Maybe. Nobody knows.”
“Figures. Nobody knows anything anymore.”
Titus heard the comment, but let it go. Kew was just blowing off steam. And really, who could blame him?
He stayed put for another hour, doing his best to ignore the crowd. It wasn’t easy. Discontent was rising quickly.
“Sir.” Stanner jogged across the sand. “We finished our search.”
Titus arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“No sandswarms. They must’ve left with the storm.”
“Excellent news.” He turned toward the crowd. “Okay, everyone—”
Violent scuffling interrupted his train of thought. Rotating to the side, Titus saw a bunch of people, shouting and pushing. In the center of it all was Private Stubbels and Cutter Polk.
“Admit it.” Stubbels’ eyes glittered dangerously. “You’re on their side.”
“Back off.” Cutter clenched his fingers into fists. “Or I’ll crack that ugly mug of yours.”
“Do it.” Stubbels shoved him. “I dare you.”
Cutter swung a wild haymaker, catching the soldier in the jaw. Stubbels reared back. Wincing, he touched his face. A ferocious cry filled his throat and he dashed toward Cutter.
The air erupted in a mess of frenzied punches and kicks. Others joined in. Limbs swung every which way as a free-for-all raged back and forth across the sand.
Titus exhaled, frustrated beyond belief. Why’d they have to fight now? Why couldn’t they at least wait until morning?
His silent plea went unheard. Moments later, Sanza walked out of the compound. Seeing the brawl, she raced into the middle of it. Clawing at Stubbels, she tried to pull him off of Cutter. But he didn’t notice her. Eventually, an errant elbow struck her cheek and she fell to the sand.
Fighters on both sides tripped over her. Covering her head, she scrambled out from under the melee.
“Do something,” she yelled at Titus.
He knew she was right. So, he waded into the thick of things. His presence cowed most of the fighters and they quickly vacated the area. But not Cutter and Stubbels. They were in a world of their own.
Stubbels wrestled Cutter to the ground. Before the man could get up, Stubbels dazed him with a shot to the jaw. Cutter dropped his hands and the private started to rain heavy blows upon his defenseless head and shoulders.
Grabbing him by the cloak, Titus wrenched him backward. Stubbels collapsed on the sand, heaving great breaths. He tried to get up, only to have Titus shove him back down again.
“Of course you’d take his side,” Stubbels spat out between gasps. “One bloodfiend protecting another, right?”
“I’m not taking sides,” Titus replied.
“That’s exactly what a bloodfiend would say.” Standing up, Stubbels wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Either you’re with us or you’re with them.”
“There’s no them,” Titus replied. “We’re all on the same side here.”
Cutter stood up on wobbly legs. “That’s what I keep trying to tel
l him. Only he won’t listen.”
“Because you’re a liar.” Stubbels stared at Titus. “I’m not going to wait around for them to sell us out. Are you?”
“They’re not going to sell us out,” he replied.
A strange look crossed Stubbels’ face. “Are you helping them?”
“There’s nothing to help,” Cutter said. “We hate the Banished just as much as you do.”
Stubbels didn’t take his eyes off of Titus. “Answer the question.”
“Nobody’s helping the Banished,” he replied. “You’re delusional if you think otherwise.”
Stubbels gave him a long look. Then he backed away, vanishing into the night.
Titus glanced at Cutter, wondering if the man would chase after the private. But he was already limping off in the opposite direction, aided by four others.
As the combatants left the area, Titus glanced at the compound. Dozens of people stared at him, looking shocked.
“It’s over,” he said. “You can go home now.”
The crowd began to disperse. Meanwhile, Titus hiked over to Stanner. “We need extra guards tonight, Private,” he said. “If that storm doubles back, we need to be ready for it.”
“Yes, Sir.” Stanner walked to a patch of open sand. Waving his hands, he called for others to join him.
Looking around, Titus saw Sanza. She stood by herself, eyes focused on the darkness. A purplish bruise was starting to form on her cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’ve been worse,” she replied.
“At least the storm is over.”
She exhaled. “If only that were true.”
Chapter 9
The enormous wall towered over Titus as he hiked alongside it. He had nothing to do, no real purpose. But he couldn’t just go to sleep while others struggled to get the fort back on its feet.
A couple of reverse-engineers scurried past him. They looked beyond harried.