He met H124’s gaze again. With a brisk smile he moved past her, and she felt that familiar buzz of electricity. He pulled out the same device she’d seen him steal in New Atlantic. He approached one of the servers and opened a panel. Gently he pulled out one of the control crystals and slid the device in behind it. Then he replaced everything and stood back. “That should be it.” Rowan pulled out his modified PRD and took it out of hibernation mode. A stream of data flowed over the display. He grinned. “It’s working! We’re patched in to their communication.”
Dirk looked over his shoulder. “Won’t they find the device?”
“Not if they don’t know to look for it. It’s untraceable.” He glanced once more at his display. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”
After leaving the room, H124 took out her multitool and fixed the door, bringing the lock back online and leaving the door just as they’d found it.
“Did you come in through the tunnels?” Rowan asked.
Dirk nodded.
“Let’s hurry back there,” Rowan decided, taking the lead.
H124 stopped. “Wait. I can’t leave. I’ve got to get out my message.” She turned to Byron. “Please. Help me.”
Rowan approached her. “Is this about the asteroid? You want to warn people?”
“I’ve got to.”
Rowan looked thoughtful. “This would be your only chance to do it, I suppose.” Rowan turned to the others. “Byron, get them out. We’ll join you back at Rocky Basin Camp.” He turned to H124. “You guys arrived in the solar-powered car?”
“Yes.”
“I left my car right next to it. I assume that’s a new find?”
H124 crossed her arms. “That’s one way to put it. They stole it from me.”
Rowan turned to Byron. “Just leave us a car. You get the hell out of here. I’ll see to this.”
Byron hesitated. “No. I’ll go with her. We can’t risk losing you. You know this tech better than anyone.”
Rowan shook his head. “We can’t risk losing anyone. Just go!”
They all hurried to the stairwell, but Rowan took her hand and started up instead of down. “We have to patch into the antenna manually. Unfortunately, that means going up,” he told her, giving her hand a squeeze.
Byron and the others started down. Then Byron paused on the stairs and looked up at her. “You going to be okay?”
She met his eyes. “No one can stop me now.”
He smiled. “I admire your resolve.” He ran back to her and handed her Willoughby’s PRD. “Just in case you need it.” He glanced at Rowan. “You watch after her, or I’ll kick your ass.” With a smack on Rowan’s arm he returned to the others and raced down the stairs.
When she looked back at Rowan, he had a puzzled expression. “What was that all about?”
“Might feel guilty for kidnapping me.”
“That must be it,” he said with a sly smile. “Guilt.” He started up the stairs with her. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
As they rushed upward, her legs felt as if they’d give out at any second. Her feet were starting to numb, and all her muscles quivered. But she thought of getting the word out, of saving lives, and it was enough to make one foot follow the other.
They went up ten more floors, where he came to a halt outside another stairwell door. She opened it quickly, and they slipped inside a hallway. It was empty, with only the humming of distant machinery to be heard. “This is about as high as you can go in this building. The antenna’s above us. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
He pointed to another TWR next to an iron door. She opened it, gasping as the door slid open to admit a draught of fresh air and a stunning view. The city stretched out beneath them, little specks of buildings reaching as far as she could see. Millions of lights twinkled below.
“Will they catch us up here?” she asked.
“We choose Delta City for our pirate broadcasts because the PPC troopers are stretched too thin here. It isn’t as protected as New Atlantic.”
Rowan stepped out onto a narrow metal walkway. The wind whipped around him, tossing his hair. She joined him, looking down. She was instantly dizzy. She’d never been this high up. She could see the roofs of skyscrapers far, far below. And overhead, she could see the curve of the shimmering atmospheric shield.
All about the tops of the buildings she saw green gardens. She pointed to one. “What are those?”
“It’s where the media elite grow their food.”
She thought of the giant food-producing warehouses in New Atlantic. She’d even peered inside them a few times. They used plants that were grown there to make the food cubes that fed the citizens. But it was nothing compared to the gardens she looked out on now. “So many!”
“Still not enough to feed all the people in the streets.” He pointed ahead. “The antenna’s over here.” He walked along the platform, and she noticed she could see right through the holes in the grating, down thousands of feet below. She forced herself to look up.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and shouted over the wind. “It’s a bit overwhelming the first time!”
“Yeah!” she managed to say. “A bit!”
They followed the walkway around a corner, and the antenna came into view. It was a massive protrusion sitting at the very top of the building. She craned her neck but couldn’t see its peak.
He pulled out his PRD, entered a few commands, and held it up next to the base of the antenna. The wind whipped around, forcing his hand to waver. “This’ll take a few minutes. It has to lock on to the right frequency. They change it constantly, and it’ll probably switch up a few times as you get out your message.”
She got out Willoughby’s PRD and pulled up the videos she’d recorded, showcasing the damage wrought by the asteroid’s smaller chunks. “Can we sync this to your PRD and patch in these images?”
He took it from her. “No problem. Just point at me when you want me to play the video.” He pulled up the imager on his PRD and focused it on her. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”
Her mouth went dry. She hadn’t thought about that. Part of her hadn’t been sure they’d make it this far. Now that she was here, she had to say something. She had to persuade everybody.
“When you do this, I’m going to cut all the PPC’s programming that’s being transmitted out. So when you’re talking, you’ll be the only thing these people see or hear.”
She swallowed. No pressure.
He glanced at his display. “Okay. It’s locked on to the frequency. You ready?”
“Not really.” Maybe the Rovers could access the PPC’s programming. Maybe they’d hear her. Maybe they’d start on a solution even if she didn’t make it to them in person.
“In three, two, one . . . you’re on.”
H124 stared straight into the imager’s eye. She was frozen. She swallowed again, then began, “Please listen carefully to what I’m about to say.” She felt her stomach churn. “Disaster is about to strike us all. Right now, an immense asteroid, a nine-kilometer rock in space, is on a collision course with our planet, along with several fragments. The first will strike the earth in less than two months, followed by two more. The main asteroid will collide with us in just over a year. If anyone knows a way to stop this from happening, I urge you to do all that you can. If you don’t know how to stop it, it’s imperative that you seek cover. Go underground and stay there. Bring supplies.”
Rowan held up his hand, then entered some commands on his PRD. “Frequency’s changing again. Hold on a sec.” While he fiddled with it, she gazed out over the city. It sprawled endlessly, toward every horizon, a sea of concrete and steel and glass and lights. Suddenly, in the far distance, some of those lights went out. Then more blinked on the other side of the city, and fell into darkness. S
he watched as block after block went out. “Okay,” Rowan called out. “You’re on again.”
She stared into the imager again. She felt braver now. “The following images were recorded after smaller chunks of the asteroid broke off and crashed into the earth.” She pointed at Rowan. He played the video of Chicago’s devastation. People screamed, fires raged, and buildings fell. Everything came crashing down.
When it was over, he pointed back at her. “You’re on,” he mouthed.
She stared into the camera. “The pieces that are going to hit this time are far bigger than the ones you just saw. And the primary asteroid will cause a global catastrophe. Life as we know it will come to an end. This isn’t a stunt, this isn’t fiction. This is really happening, and if you want to live, you’ve got to act. And again, if anyone can prevent this, please, for all of our sakes, know that the fate of the world rests in your hands.” She went silent. All around the PPC tower the city plummeted into darkness. Rowan mouthed, “Are you done?”
She nodded. He cut the transmission and took her hand. “That was great. Now we have to get the hell out of here.” He pointed to the darkened streets below. “See all that? All those lights that just went out? You got people’s attention.”
She followed him back down the catwalk. “How do you know?”
“Jacked-in people, the ones you just talked to, keep up the infrastructure of the city. They don’t know it, but they do. To keep their entertainment going twenty-four-seven, they enter a series of commands into windows in their consoles.”
She thought back to what Willoughby had said about this, then remembered the floating console she’d seen in that living pod when she went to take care of her last corpse. She’d seen the man entering commands into the window.
“All those lights going out? That was them listening to you. They stopped typing in commands. The PPC doesn’t like distractions. They keep the masses tuned in to what they want them to watch, the games they create, the shows they make. In return, each citizen performs a task that keeps the city running. They regulate water, gas, electricity . . . everything. Right now, I guarantee you some pressure valve didn’t get released, and water is spewing all over the place. But . . . the important thing is that they listened.”
She agreed. Taking his hand, she got them back through the door, grateful to be out of the howling wind. She could hear him a lot better as he said, “I wonder what the scuttlebutt is on the inside PPC channel.” They started down the stairs, and he checked his PRD. “Thanks to that device I picked up in New Atlantic, we can eavesdrop for the first time.” He started reading, then froze.
She stared at him. “What is it?”
“They’re on to us all right. The soldiers are moving to surround us.”
“Let’s go!” She took his hand again, and they dashed down the stairs.
Chapter 21
They tore down the stairs, using the railing at the landings to careen around the corners. H124’s legs had forgotten their exhaustion. Above them she heard soldiers filing into the stairwell. “Down there!” one of them yelled, and her blood froze.
They raced to the next landing, where she jolted to a halt as she heard soldiers entering the stairwell below. Rowan stopped too.
She stared up. The soldiers were descending. She thought of exiting at the current level, making for the maintenance elevator, and going down. But the soldiers could easily cut the power, and then they’d be trapped.
Rowan reached into his bag and pulled out a coiled rope. “We’ll have to take the fast way down.” He quickly secured it to the railing, tested the knot, then pulled out a pair of gloves. He handed them to her, and she put them on. Then he tore a sleeve from his shirt and sliced it in half with his knife. He wrapped the two pieces around his hands and gripped the rope. “You ready? I’ll go first.”
Before she could answer, he leaped over the railing and went sailing down the rope, dropping past the soldiers coming up. One discharged a blast of energy, but was too slow on the draw, missing Rowan completely. The men started up again and would soon be at her landing. Clutching the rope, she held her breath and leaped over the railing. Immediately her hands started to burn, and she could smell the gloves heating up. As she zipped past the soldiers in the stairwell, one fired his flash burster at her, but again was too slow. A searing pain erupted through her fingers. With Rowan’s weight on the rope, she descended much more quickly than he had. Then his weight disappeared, and the rope twisted wildly. She craned her neck to see the bottom. Rowan was staring up at her. She was almost there. She braced herself as she came in fast, squeezing the rope even tighter. Then she felt Rowan’s hands on her hips, and he caught her in his arms. Her cheek brushed his as he set her down.
Reaching up, he yanked hard on the rope. “Watch out.”
They both stepped to the side as the rope came crashing down, coiling at their feet. “Just in case they wanted to follow us.” He grabbed the line and raced to the door she’d passed through earlier. She unlocked it, then sealed it behind them. They ran down the cement hall and through the metal door to the area that held images of the stone spires. They ran through the series of glass doors, her ears popping as they did, and soon they were back in the natural stone caverns. Her breath plumed in the air as she switched on her headlamp.
She listened for their pursuers above the echoes of dripping and running water. “Will they follow us down here?”
“They haven’t before. I think they’re too afraid to leave the building.”
She thought of the swarming mass of desperate people outside and could see why. She didn’t doubt that anyone associated with the PPC would be torn apart if they went out there.
They reached the outer door and stairs, and they ascended them two at a time. At the top, they emerged onto the city street. Hovering in the air was another sign: It Doesn’t Matter How. It Doesn’t Matter Who.
For now the little alley by the stairs was deserted, but she could see a swarm of people milling around in the main street.
Rowan took her hand, and they ducked down the side alleys. Another sign hovered in the shadows: Murder Is Your Civic Duty. Know the Meaning of Sacrifice.
They moved quietly down the narrow backstreets, smelling something rotten. She knew the odor all too well. It was a decomposing body. But this stench was infinitely more pungent. She pulled her scarf up over her face as they rounded another corner. Here a tight alley emptied out on the far side into the main street. But there was no way they could use it.
Hundreds of dead bodies lay piled in a staggering heap, stretching all the way to the main road, which lay a hundred feet away. Arms and legs jutted out, black and slick with decay, piled more than twenty feet deep and spilling out into the neighboring alley where they stood.
A sign shimmered above: Before They Get You, Get Them.
She gasped, eyes streaming at the rank smell. “What is this?”
“A murder alley,” Rowan confirmed. He pulled her away from it, ushering her toward the next lane. It was stacked even higher with the dead. She saw a corpse close to the edge, fresher than most. Blood caked around the man’s throat, which had been slashed open with a jagged weapon. A ragged hole yawned in his chest. Rowan pulled her forward. A woman’s body stuck out at the edge of the pile, skull shattered, eyes glassed over. She too had a gaping hole in her chest.
“They were all murdered?” she asked, unsure how this could happen.
Rowan kept leading her away, trying to find an alley they could take back to the main street that led to the CO2 vents.
“Delta City never enacted the population controls that your city did. The city couldn’t handle the massive explosion. Not enough resources to support people. They starved here. So the PPC sanctioned a different kind of population control.” He stared down a few more alleys, one choked with bodies, another a haven for a large group of people who were leaning against the walls an
d sleeping on the ground. There was no way they’d make it to the end of the alley without being attacked again. And this time it was just the two of them.
“There are kiosks all over town. If you bring them a human heart, they give you food cubes.”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
He nodded. “And it’s not much food either. Maybe a day’s worth. But if you kill enough people . . .”
“The population goes down . . .”
“And the PPC doesn’t have to worry so much about the masses besieging their tower.”
She shook her head, trying to understand.
“Here,” Rowan said, reaching the next alley. Only five or so people milled around it, talking to one another. Clothing hung in rags on their skeletal shoulders, and dark circles gathered in the hollows beneath their eyes. “Just walk casually.” He put his arm around her, then pulled hers around his waist. “Let’s just talk quietly to each other, and try to blend in.” She saw a couple at the far end of the alley. The woman’s head rested on the man’s chest. She did the same to Rowan. They moved slowly, passing the first person, who sat against the wall, bony legs kicked out. They stepped over him. He didn’t even look up.
They bypassed two others, and began to approach the couple. The woman lifted her head and stared.
H124 knew there was no way they’d blend in. If anyone really looked at them, even for a second, it was over.
“Hey,” said the woman. “You’re not from here.” She pulled on her companion’s shoulder. “Look at them! They’ve been eating well, wherever they’re from!”
The man sized up Rowan. “Looks like a Badlander.”
The couple moved forward, blocking their way. “You a Badlander?” the man asked.
Rowan shook his head. H124 pulled away from him, tensing for a confrontation. “I’m just like you, trying to survive,” he said.
The woman plucked at her own filthy sweater, nudging her friend with hunger in her eyes. “We can get a lot of food for them.”
“Yeah,” the man said, licking his lips. He lunged for Rowan’s arm.
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