I just resented that I’d had to do it in the first place.
I straightened up and decided to run to the bathroom before heading back inside. There were public restrooms in a little hall shooting off from this one, and I found them, used them, and was on my way back to the main door when my net buzzed. I frowned and lifted up my wrist, checking to see who was netting me.
The indicator read Dinah Velasquez. My frown deepened. Who the hell was Dinah Velasquez, and why was she netting me?
I warred with the idea of not picking up, but finally accepted the net. For all I knew it could be one of Lacey’s people trying to reach out to me.
“This is Liana Castell,” I said, keeping my voice pleasant in spite of the violent rattling inside my skull. I wanted to ask Quess to put the legacy net back in; it was far gentler than this one. But I had to wait until he and Leo managed to unlock it.
Yes, I know who this is, thank you very much, a voice on the other end squawked. What I want to know is what the hell you were thinking!
I shook my head. Was I going insane? I had no idea what this woman was talking about. “I’m sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else.”
No, I do not, Liana Castell, 25K-05. You and your brother have both been pains in my rear ever since you forced Roark to bring you into this, and I swear on Scipio’s grave that if you do not shut up and pay attention right now, I’m going to die.
She had mentioned Roark. Very few people knew that name outside of my friends and the council members, and Dinah Velasquez was not on the council. So who was she, and how did she know about Roark—and how I had forced him to include me in his escape plan?
My mind fumbled for a second, and then it suddenly connected, like a plug being slid into place. “Mercury?!”
She growled, and the sound made me cringe slightly. Not the time, Liana! You and Quess have put me in grave danger, and you need to do something about it right now!
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “The only thing we asked you to do was to—”
Track down a missing sentinel, yes, I know! But what you failed to mention was that it was capable of detecting the scan! The thing is on its way here at this very moment!
Ice slid down my spine, settling into the base of it, and I looked around, quickly trying to find a lashway, questions tumbling through my mind. How did she know it was on its way, and how could it have found her in the first place? Mercury—Dinah was beyond cautious. She was downright paranoid about keeping her identity secret, and I doubted very much that she had just gotten sloppy.
But I could get the answers to those questions later. What came first was making sure she wasn’t around when the sentinel showed up. “Get out of there, Mercury. Right now.” I spotted a lashway and crossed over to it, quickly keying in an override and a scan.
That’s not as easy as it sounds. You need to get here. Now!
“I’m already on my way,” I said through clenched teeth as the scan for the lashway caused the buzzing in my head to intensify until it felt like a high-pitched scream. “But I might not get there in time. If you can leave now, then leave.”
I can’t do that, Liana! You need to come. Immediately!
The door slid open, revealing a massive, upside-down gargoyle glaring at me from ten feet away, and I threw my lash, connecting just inside its open canine mouth. “I’m coming,” I repeated. “Get my brother down to the reception area to sign me in, and then hide yourself.”
Mercury, like all the Eyes, was housed in the Core with Scipio, and the only way I was getting in was on a family visitation pass with my brother. Because I couldn’t go into the IT Department as a Knight without probable cause, and trying to falsify an order would take too long—and would be easily discovered.
If they caught us outside of my brother’s section, he would get in massive amounts of trouble, but we had to risk it. Losing Dinah was unacceptable—not just because she was a human being, but because she seemed to be the truest ally we had. She helped us in exchange for Paragon, which made our relationship perfectly reciprocal.
I would kill to have a similar reciprocity with Lacey, but that was beside the point.
I leapt through the lashway without another thought, angling my body so I could create momentum and speed. I’d yell at Dinah later for not making a run for it.
Right now, I just needed to get to her.
Before the sentinel did.
I met Alex at the front desk three minutes later, my muscles quivering and sweat dripping off of me in buckets. We didn’t talk as he signed me in, and the second I was past the massive black doors that kept the rest of the Tower separated from Scipio, we broke into a light jog.
I let Alex lead, seeing as he lived here, and he quickly got us into an elevator and directed it to the forty-fifth floor.
“What do you know?” I asked as the numbers painted on the walls danced by.
“Dinah Velasquez is a lead, but her section title isn’t listed, and she doesn’t seem to have any Eyes working directly for her,” Alex reported, giving me a nervous look. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Her entire history requires a security clearance higher than my own.”
“Is that weird?”
He gave me a pointed look. “Nobody has their personal history redacted in the IT Department, so yeah, it’s really weird. And there’s no record of what she does within the Core. Not even reports. It’s like she exists in name only, which is just… confusing. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.”
Tension ran under my skin like insects scattering from an imminent threat as the full weight of his words sank in—we had no idea who Dinah Velasquez really was, even with finally knowing her true name. She had clearly taken great pains to keep her identity a secret even from the Eyes themselves, so who knew what she would do now that my brother and I had learned the truth.
Then Alex glanced at me, and his mouth—already tight—grew rubber-band thin. “What is a sentinel?” he asked, clearly needing answers.
“A machine that was supposed to replace the Knights, but failed. They’re bad news, Alex, so don’t engage if you don’t have to.”
His eyes dropped to my baton and moved back up to my face. “You’re going to go after it with only a baton.”
My own lips pursed. “I’m going to do what I must to keep it off of you while you get Mercury out of there. Comprende?”
It was one of the only words we knew from a language our ancestors had spoken before the End. We only used it when it was time to be serious.
Alex’s face darkened. “No. You can’t fight this thing alone!”
“Distract, Alex,” I corrected. “And we have to. There’s no other choice.”
He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Fine,” he grated out.
The elevator stopped a moment later, and we stepped out. I let him lead.
We crossed the atrium to where a narrow hall carved a path through the wall and made a sharp right. Alex entered it and began easing down the connected hallway. I followed, and immediately noticed a smell. Acrid and bitter, like something was burning.
I reached out and grabbed my brother’s shoulder, bringing him to a halt so I could slip around in front of him. I slid the baton from its loop and switched it on. It wouldn’t do much against the sentinel, but it was better than nothing.
As we approached the next corner, I became aware of a rhythmic thudding noise. It sounded like a creaking anvil throwing itself against a slab of stone, and I could feel the slight vibration of the impact under my feet. Another turn, only this time I pressed my back against the wall and used it for cover as I quickly checked down the next passageway.
The hall came to an abrupt end just past a doorway. The door, a heavy metal slab, had been reduced to large chunks, the edges still glowing red from where they had been cut by something brilliantly hot. Likely a cutter.
The hall was otherwise deserted, but I could hear pounding coming through the opening. I took my chances
and moved fully into the hall, stepping over the pieces of the door and approaching the entryway.
I pressed a shoulder against it, my mouth dry and my palms sweaty, glanced at Alex, who was behind me, and said in the smallest whisper I could produce, “I’ll go in first, okay? Give me five seconds, and then get to Mercury. Then get out. I’ll be right behind you.”
He hesitated and then nodded, his eyes wide with alarm. I reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and then turned back to the door, keeping my baton at the ready.
I took a step toward the door.
“Okay, seriously? C’mon, Jang-Mi! This is really getting ridiculous. Put me down and stop hitting that door!”
I froze. I’d recognize that high-pitched voice anywhere.
It was Tian.
14
I swallowed and looked back at Alex, holding up a hand to tell him to stop. If Tian was in there with the sentinel, then that changed things dramatically. Because if it was holding her prisoner, I had to be extremely careful to make sure she wasn’t caught in the crosshairs. My mind raced, and I realized that in my hurry to get over here, I had neglected to tell anyone where I was going—or call for backup. I had only been concerned for Mercury. He… She was the best resource we had, and I owed her my life twice over.
But now I was here, without any backup—save my brother—facing an automaton that had been designed for fighting, and had recently murdered six individuals in a violent act no more than two days ago. And here I was, about to go in swinging with nothing but my baton. We were in serious trouble.
My brother nodded, showing that he understood to stay there, and I turned back to the open door. The thumping from inside continued, but Tian hadn’t spoken again, and I was getting concerned. I eased my way along the wall, coming up to the edge of the door.
I stuck my head through the doorway for three heartbeats, scanning from left to right, and then ducked back. The door led into a common area that was sunk three feet into the floor. A counter running from the left wall separated the kitchen from the living room, while the dining room was set to the right, hidden by a half wall. A hall ran between them, and as my eyes slid over the darkened space, I suddenly saw it: a burning orange glow, illuminating a single figure at the end of it.
It had only been a brief flash, but I knew in my spine that it was the sentinel.
“Security door unbreakable,” a robotic voice said. “Activating countermeasures.”
“Jang-Mi, stop it!” This time, Tian’s voice held an edge of desperation to it. “Don’t do this!”
I frowned. Tian was trying to reason with it? What was she thinking?!
And several other questions followed on the tail of that one. Why was she here? Was the sentinel keeping her hostage? Why hadn’t whoever was controlling the sentinel taken her away from it?
I put the questions aside; Tian could answer them for me as soon as we freed her from the sentinel. But first I had to deal with it.
I looked back at my brother and nodded him over. Then, in very slow Callivax (the special hand language used by the Divers in Water Treatment) I told him to go in and to the left five seconds after I went in.
To my relief, he had brushed up on his Callivax recently, and nodded, then quickly repeated the instructions back to me, his hands flying.
I exhaled, leaned over to make sure the machine’s back was to me, and then darted through the opening, keeping my feet light and taking care not to bump into any of the shelves that lined the place. I aimed for the wall—the best place to keep the sentinel from seeing us, given its position at the end of the hall—and settled between two shelving units that were packed with slim black IT manuals. I’d never seen so many in my life, but now was not the time to gawk.
I took a moment to catch my breath and ease my heartbeat, which was now stamping out a tattoo on the inside of my ribs, convinced that the sound would draw the sentinel. I stared warily at the opening, tense and jumpy, but nothing emerged.
Instead, the dim orange glow being emitted by the sentinel suddenly intensified with a sharp, wet hiss, and I recognized the sound and angry, bruised-orange glow with an instinctive chill. It was a cutter.
Movement caught my eye to the left, and I shifted the angle of my head enough to see my brother crouching low to the floor and making his way quickly to the left side of the room, angling for the wall as well. I tracked his progress from the corner of my eye, while keeping my gaze on the hall. I could hear the sharp zzt of sparks, which were accompanied by bursts of orange light.
“Keep your eyes closed, Yu-Na,” a feminine voice crooned, and I cocked my head. Was there someone else in the hall? Who was Yu-Na?
Also, why did their voice sound so tinny? Like it was coming through a speaker or something?
Crap. If there was someone else in there, then trying to sneak up on the sentinel was a very bad idea. We’d be spotted by whoever else was there. We needed to draw them out.
I looked around the room, thinking, and my eyes stopped on the bookshelf to my left. Books. Small, light, and infinitely throwable.
I grabbed a handful of the slim volumes and then motioned for my brother, quickly signing for him to go over the half wall on his side, and then made my way to the counter. I carefully climbed across it and dropped, landing lightly on the floor. The kitchen was spacious, with an island in the middle, but I paid little attention to it and focused on the hall. I was probably three feet away from the entrance by now, and the light coming from the end of it was almost blinding, flashing white-hot and orange colors that made me wince.
I waited for Alex to get into place and saw that he was now sliding something over the knuckles of his left hand—a pulse shield. Seeing it gave me pause, because only Inquisitors were supposed to have pulse shields, but I set it aside. He could tell me where he’d gotten it later. For now, I was just grateful he’d had enough sense to bring a weapon.
I quickly explained what I was going to do in Callivax, and he nodded and slid out of sight behind the wall on the other side of the hall. I stood up and did the same, keeping myself right around the corner from the opening.
Then I grabbed one of the books and tossed it, very loudly, over the counter and into the living room. For a second, the sound of cutting carried on, and then it suddenly switched off with a click.
The silence was almost deafening, and I felt my breath catch as my throat suddenly tightened.
“Jang-Mi?” Tian asked, her voice carrying down the hall. “Are you with me?”
“Motion detected,” the robotic voice croaked. “Searching.”
There were several heavy sounds of metal hitting metal, and I felt the vibrations coursing up through the floor. The sentinel was moving.
I took a quick glimpse around the corner, and sure enough, a thick leg slid into view, stamping down on the floor with its odd, hexagon-shaped boot. The sentinel eased out of the hallway slowly, and I noticed several things at once. The first was that it was wearing a cloak similar to the kind I had seen Lacey’s people wearing in Cogstown. The design somehow made it easier to blend in with the walls of the Tower.
The second thing I noticed was the small form slung over its shoulder. Her shredded skirt stuck up off its shoulder like a flower, and her black-clad legs and heavy black boots dangled against its chest. It held her in place with one hand, while the other one—the one on Alex’s side of the room—held something that I didn’t recognize. What I did recognize was how the sentinel held it in its hand. It was a weapon of some sort. Possibly the same one it had used on those people in the condensation room.
Images of bisected limbs and torsos spilled into my mind, and a small sound escaped my throat. I ducked back just as I saw the head snap around in the direction of the kitchen, red glowing from the depths of its deep hood. I moved quickly, silently crossing the floor and ducking behind the island. I changed positions just in time, because a heartbeat later, the sentinel clanged into the kitchen. I didn’t see it, but I both heard and felt it, and tense
d.
It stopped, and a soft whir of mechanical noise kicked up. I carefully eased my way back along the counter, moving with painstaking slowness so as not to create the slightest breath of noise. It was right on the other side.
I froze when I heard the clang of its foot again, moving toward the space between the wall and the counter. If it came around the island, it would see me—unless I was safely on the other side.
I picked up the pace, and had my hips around the corner when the sentinel clanged into view. I looked up from where I was kneeling to see its face peering down at me from the hood. The metallic orbs that made up its eyes were the source of the fiery red, illuminating the angular lines of its artificial face.
“Enemy detected,” it said, raising the weapon in its hand and leveling it at me. I stared at the weapon, horrified. It was a flat bar, with a narrow seam running down the middle. The sentinel’s hand was gripped tightly around a handle—which had a silver canister underneath that looked like it could contain compressed air. “Awaiting orders.”
My eyes widened as it continued to stare at me, and I realized it was in fact getting orders. I had to get away before the thing got a response, but I was afraid to move, worried it would just pull the trigger.
So I waited, hoping Alex would put that pulse shield to good use.
Tian, however, was not that patient, and pushed herself up as much as she was able to. She turned at the waist and looked over the sentinel’s shoulder. “Jang-Mi, stop doing this!” she shouted, smacking a small hand against the sentinel’s head. “Wake up!”
What was Tian doing? It was insane! I mean, Tian was a little odd at times, but this was crazy, even for her.
“Tian, keep still!” I ordered, taking the small risk of moving only my mouth.
The little girl swiveled even farther around, her hand using the sentinel’s head to help give her leverage, and her wide doll’s eyes grew even wider, filling with horror. “Liana! No! You don’t know what it can do! You have to run!”
“It’s a little late for that, kiddo,” I said softly. C’mon, Alex.
The Girl Who Dared to Rise Page 12