by Gini Koch
Then her eyes started blinking in a way I recognized—in the Android About To Self-Destruct way.
CHAPTER 16
“EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY!” I did my best to channel Jeff’s bellow. No one bellowed like my man, but I was pretty good. I was also stupid, trusting, and had made myself and my team literal sitting ducks, but I’d go with pretty good on the bellowing and call it even right now.
Happily, everyone here had been in an action situation with me before. The K-9 guys scooped up their dogs, Len and Kyle went in between the K-9s and took hold so they were all connected to each other, and Colette grabbed Melville’s arm and headed back for the bathroom gate.
I grabbed Tito and Evalyne, who grabbed Phoebe. I zoomed us back to the bathroom in time to see the last part of Riley’s tail going through the gate. Didn’t stop to think, just threw the three of them through the gate behind the others. Either Colette had taken the time to calibrate it, or they were all headed to the Dome, which was where the majority of gates recalibrated to after each use.
Didn’t go through myself because I still had Kevin and Manfred here, plus however many A-Cs had answered Evalyne’s call, as well as all the rest of the D.C.P.D. that might be hanging about. The prisoners might not want to be blown up, either.
Happily, there was a fire alarm in the bathroom. Chose not to ask why it was here and instead pulled it, thanking whoever had designed this place for having some foresight. More foresight than me, at any rate. Then I ran back into the holding cells, Rage riding shotgun, which was always a good thing for me in these kinds of situations.
The Casey-Bot hadn’t exploded yet, but I had to figure it was just a matter of time. Of course, she was bending the bars of her cell, so she might have been holding off in order to create more damage. Or catch me, since it was obvious I’d been the target. Totally obvious. Now. Rage shared that I was indeed an idiot, but being stupid made me madder and that was fine.
Left her there—she hadn’t achieved much yet in terms of bar bends and I had a lot of people to clear out. I’d deal with her sooner or later, probably sooner.
Found the stairs and ran up, pulling my iPod and earbuds out of my purse as I did so. Some people wouldn’t have practiced this move for a danger situation, but those people weren’t me. I worked a lot better with tunes. Got the iPod clipped to my belt and the earbuds in before I reached the top of this set of stairs. Hit random and was rewarded with “Speak of the Devil” by Sum 41 hitting my ears.
Turned out there were several floors above where we were, and I checked the first one I came to, pulling any fire alarms I passed along the way. I had no idea if this added anything to the general cacophony or what, but figured it couldn’t hurt. Didn’t bother me because Sum 41 was handling ear protection, so to speak.
No people were in evidence. Ran up to the next level. No people again. Headed up the next set of stairs and ran into Kevin and Manfred at the top, literally.
“Ooof!” Managed to grab Manfred so I didn’t fall down, and he somehow was able to stay upright and not lose either me or Kevin.
“What’s going on?” Kevin asked.
“Casey’s an android of some kind and she’s going to blow.”
“Why are you still here?” Manfred asked, sounding shocked. Thought he knew me better than that, but then again, panic situations tended to focus a person on core personality traits, and Manfred was a protector.
“Um, because you two are still here. And, you know, everyone else.”
“Why ask why?” Kevin said to Manfred. “It’s Kitty.” He took a firm hold of my hand. “Get us to the gate.”
“But there are people in here!”
“We had A-Cs on-site,” Kevin said as we headed back the way I’d come. “The fire alarm meant they went into action. Everyone’s evacuated other than us, and we were coming back to make sure you’d gotten to safety.” Well, that huge relief explained why I’d found no one so far. Go team.
“What about the prisoners?” There were men and women in these cells. They might have been in for DUIs or prostitution or much worse, but still, they might be innocent, and even if they weren’t, this wasn’t the way they should go. Cliff’s insanity had killed too many people—innocent and guilty alike, indiscriminately and with much happy malice aforethought—for me to want to let him or his minions kill anyone else.
“I don’t care about them,” Kevin said. “I care about the First Lady.”
The Casey-Bot was out and blocking us. Manfred managed to come to a stop before we reached her. She smiled at us, one of those nasty smiles all the bad guys seemed to adore. “And here I was trying to help you.”
Wrenched out of Kevin’s hold as “Thanks for Nothing” came on. My iPod wasn’t on general random, it was on random for Sum 41. Worked for me. “Be right with you, Casey.” Looked back at Kevin and Manfred. “And I care about all of you. Get those people and yourselves out, and that’s an executive order or whatever. I’ll handle our Casey-Bot.” With that, I flipped myself forward.
Hit her in the chest with both feet and congratulated myself on the skills working to optimum. Not that it was hard when I was this angry. And not that there was anyone around to witness it, because, thankfully, Manfred had taken my direct order to heart and was wrenching the cell doors open while Kevin collected prisoners, so they were a little occupied.
The Casey-Bot went backwards and as she hit the floor I sprang off and flipped into a crouch facing her. She flipped up from a prone position onto her feet. If she somehow wasn’t an android, she was a world-class gymnast. Voted for android without a lot of contemplation.
She swung a roundhouse kick at me, which I dodged while I swept her legs, which she jumped over. This landed her closer to me, though, so I sent an upward blade kick into her stomach and she flew back into her cell.
Kevin slammed the cell door shut and grabbed me. Then he pulled a gun and started shooting, right at her head. Six shots in, her head crumpled and I knew what was coming for sure now. Chose not to wait around and took off for the bathroom.
Arrived as Manfred was shoving what I hoped was the last prisoner through. Heard the explosion and it sounded massive. Didn’t look around, just shoved Manfred through as well and kept on going, dragging Kevin with me, hoping the heat I was feeling was just my imagination.
CHAPTER 17
THIS GATE TRANSFER was longer than the previous one, but that wasn’t a surprise. We were most likely heading for the Dome, and New Mexico was a lot farther away from D.C. than the police station had been to the White House.
On the plus side, when I was this high on adrenaline, the gate transfer wasn’t as bad. Finished stepping through and didn’t even gag too much, but we hadn’t ended up where I was expecting. Based on the general ages of the faces looking worriedly at me and the fact that we were in what I recognized as a typical A-C main gate transfer area, we weren’t at the Dome, or even the Dulce Science Center. We were at Caliente Base.
Caliente Base was in Pueblo Caliente, Arizona, where Chuckie, Amy, and I had all grown up. It was a decent-sized A-C facility, in this location because the Southwest had been number one with a bullet when we’d had parasitic superbeings littering the planet. During Operation Drug Addict, I’d sort of led a secession and most of the younger A-Cs had moved here. Caliente Base was to American Centaurion a lot like the A-Cs in general were to the U.S. and the rest of the world—separate but equal.
Made sure Kevin was unscathed, then ensured that there was no scathing on anyone else. We all appeared okay. “Nice to see everyone. Why are we here?” I directed this question to Colette, since it seemed likely that she’d been the one spinning the calibration dial.
She shook her head. “I didn’t change the setting because I didn’t feel we had the time. I expected to go to the Dome.”
“Then I ask again, why are we here?” This time I was asking the A-Cs that were surrounding us. Some
of them looked familiar. Three in particular. Did my best to force myself to try to remember if I knew any of them beyond having seen them in the halls over the past years. My lack of paying attention to things that mattered to other people—like remembering names and occupations of the people working with me—was amplified when I was around this many unfamiliar A-Cs. I was like a chameleon on plaid and about as useful.
Six years ago, if someone had told me that I’d start to think that a sea of beautiful people was normal and almost mundane, I’d have laughed my head off. But reality was that being surrounded by as much beauty as I was on a daily basis—in all its many varieties of skin tones and body types—ended up making it even harder for me to differentiate who was who if I didn’t know the people well. And, these days, I didn’t know anyone at Caliente Base all that well. It had been quite a while since we’d lived here, and we hadn’t lived here all that long, either.
“We don’t know,” a young woman I was prepared to say I’d met before replied. She was in her early to mid-20s, typical Dazzler gorgeous with long, curly, light brown hair and a perfect hourglass figure. “My science teams showed nothing that would indicate anything untoward.”
Memory did me a solid and tossed up that the reason this gal was saying “my” was because I’d promoted her to the head of science and medicine here during Operation Infiltration. Meaning this was, by my decree, the Top Dazzler On Duty, Viola Sciacca. “Viola, it’s good to see you.”
She beamed at me as the music changed to “Handle This.” I was definitely on the Sum 41 channel. Worked for me and the current situation. “It’s wonderful to see you, Madam First Lady.”
“Oh my God, don’t you start, too. First names right now, please and thank you.”
Viola laughed. “Sorry . . . Kitty. We’re in contact with the Dome to determine if the gate at your last location was tampered with.”
“I think we should ensure that the location still exists,” Kevin said. “That was a huge explosion. We barely got through in time.”
“But we did, Donald Downer, so let’s be happy. Speaking of which . . .” Turned and took a look around. “Where are the prisoners we brought with us?”
“Here,” Melville said from off to the side. There were three women and six men who were surrounded by A-C Field agents with weapons drawn. The K-9 units were nearby but not surrounding. The women all looked like they were working the streets. The men I couldn’t get as easy a read on—none of them were in micro-miniskirts, five-inch heels, and tiny tank tops. They ranged from kind of ragged and potentially homeless to jeans and t-shirts to suits. Two of each. Chose not to make a Noah’s Ark comment, but it took effort.
“Why aren’t you all on guard duty?” I asked Prince.
“We—” Melville started, but Prince wuffed, growled, wuffed again, whined, and wuffed one last time.
“Got it. They’re all still dealing with the effects of the gate transfer and have just finished being sick. They’re also clear they’re surrounded with nowhere to go, so at the moment, a low enough security risk to just allow the A-Cs to handle it. Good boys.”
Dug around in my purse. Charlie hadn’t quite started teething yet, but it was coming any day now, meaning I was carrying teething biscuits just in case. A-C baby teeth came in all at once, and based on Jeff’s reactions to Jamie’s teething, I kind of hoped Charlie would start ASAP so we could be on that world tour and far away from Jeff when he was in the worst of it.
Gave each dog a pet and a biscuit, figured I needed to focus and so stopped my iPod when the song finished and put it and my earbuds back into my purse, then turned back to the people. Took another close look around. Was pretty sure two of the guys were also people I knew. Both were, like Viola, in their early to mid-20s. One was about Christopher’s size and build and on the fairer side, while the other was taller with a darker Mediterranean look going. Both were, as per usual, incredibly handsome.
Memory again did me a solid and shared that the shorter one was Romeo Ruggero and the taller Carmine Giordano. I’d also put Romeo in charge of military and Carmine in charge of the gates during Operation Infiltration. This wasn’t as big a deal in most bases, but Caliente’s odd status made being the main Gate Agent an important position.
“There’s no tampering from our side,” Carmine said.
“Good to know. And good to see you again, Carmine, and you, too, Romeo.” Both dudes beamed and I saw their eyes dart around—not to look at those with me, but at the other A-Cs. It dawned on me that the FLOTUS visiting—regardless of your relationship to her—was perceived by many to be a big deal. Meaning this was kind of a test run for my world tour. That was me, getting a double any time I could.
“We need to regroup and advise the President that you’re alright,” Kevin said.
“True enough. Viola, lead on to a convenient conference room.”
“What about them?” Melville asked, pointing to the prisoners.
Considered options. A-Cs were fast but trusting. “Bring them with us.”
Kevin shot me the “really?” look. “Because you want them in a high-level meeting why?”
“They were down there. Besides, what else are we going to do with them?”
“I’d like to put them into a cell,” Melville said. It was clear that Larry and Curly agreed. The prisoners were far too busy looking around to share their opinions, though I was willing to bet “not a cell” would be what all nine of them would vote for.
“I’d personally like to make sure that they’re not contagious,” Tito said, still inside his hazmat suit. “Sure, we were dealing with an android or something, but she could have brought a virus along with her.”
“Let’s get into a room with a door we can close, then, just in case. Carmine and Romeo, I’d like you with us, too.” If we were contagious, we’d just infected all of Caliente Base—and therefore the majority of the Earth A-C breeding population—but I chose to keep that worry to myself.
We trotted off. Caliente Base was a smaller version of the Dulce Science Center. Dulce went down fifteen stories. Caliente only went down ten. We’d landed on what I considered the Base’s Bat Cave Level—where there were all sorts of computers, screens, terminals, and more, with tons of people dashing about doing things that it would probably make my head hurt to know about. Most were A-Cs, but there were always U.S. military personnel around as well.
We reached our conference room. In a human-run building, that room would have walls and perhaps some windows to look out at the view. In an A-C facility there was no view, so that was out. They seemed to adapt by giving all the conference rooms low walls with glass all the way to the ceiling. It was like being in a fishbowl. I still had no idea why A-Cs felt that they didn’t need to sequester themselves where they couldn’t be seen when having top-level meetings, but I’d given up worrying about it. Mostly because, based on new information we’d gotten during Operation Madhouse, I had a feeling it was influence from the Tinkerer.
Tito tested each of us as we entered the room. First he checked everyone with the OVS—the Organic Validation Sensor—which looked like the wands used by airport security to do the closer body checks, only with a lot more blinking lights.
Once each person was verified to be mostly organic and so not an android or Fem-Bot or whatever, it was shots time. Tito had a plethora of needles in his bag and seemed happily content to stab each and every one of us with them. No one complained—Operation Epidemic hadn’t been that long ago.
“If we’re infected, we’ll have to lockdown this Base,” Evalyne said quietly to me. “But D.C. is the bigger issue. We have no idea how many local LEOs were in contact with whatever that thing was.”
“Android, Fem-Bot, clone, some combo. The possibilities are really endless. I’m just glad we have no androids or robots or whatever with us right now.”
Tito studied his phone. Then frowned and shook his head.
CHAPTER 18
FELT THE WHOLE ROOM TENSE as Tito went back into his medical bag. He pulled out something that looked like a hand can opener, loaded something I couldn’t see into it, then put it up against one of the female prisoners’ upper arms. From the way she jerked she was getting a shot.
Tito did this with all the prisoners other than the two guys in suits. Then he put the pseudo can opener away and relaxed. “Nothing contagious. Well, nothing contagious anymore. We’re not dealing with any kind of plague or supervirus.”
Everyone in the room let out their breath. Decided we didn’t need to know what venereal diseases and other things the prisoners were dealing with. Also decided that telling Tito he could have shared that there was nothing dangerous going on a hell of a lot earlier could wait for later. There were more pressing matters at hand.
“Super, so the Casey-Bot was full of it?”
“No idea,” Tito said. “As I told you, her results were off because I was testing for a human and, since she wasn’t fully human, there could have been something in her that would have infected others.”
“I think she was created to give us the distinct impression that she was dying,” Kevin said. “Presumably to get Kitty into exactly the position we were just in.”
“Great, that’s part of the reason for us to powwow. So, let’s sit and get in touch with Jeff and the others.”
Settled in while Tito got out of his hazmat suit. Barring the Fishbowl Effect, A-C conference rooms were nice—big oval tables, cushy seats, individual TV monitors set in the table from the days when Imageering would have been showing real and altered footage at the same time. Missed the good old days.
Thankfully we’d gotten a big room because we had fifteen counting the three Caliente Base A-Cs, plus the nine prisoners, and three big German Shepherds. There were only twenty chairs, so the working girls got to sit and the two guys in suits claimed the other chairs.