A faint schick-schick of propellers sounded from above.
They weren’t loud enough to be a human-operated dronecraft. I dropped to the ground and rolled under Seven as far as I could before I was stopped by the landing gear. Unmanned aerial crafts, or UACs, weren’t common. This one sounded louder than most, which meant it was big, just not big enough to have a pilot. I’d salvaged a military-grade UAC with a working laser a few years ago. We never flew it inside the city limits. If the government found out, they’d confiscate it and I’d be jailed.
The propeller sound intensified.
It had to be over the clearing now. If the thing had a live-video feed, we would be in trouble quickly. But most live-feed units didn’t accurately transmit in our iron-particle-clogged world. But I’d know soon enough. If it lingered, someone was checking out the area. If it continued on its way, that likely meant this was a routine stop, and no one would know we were here until it went back to its hub and someone manually downloaded the video to take a look.
That would give us enough time to get out.
Within minutes, the thing passed overhead.
I rolled out from under the craft, sopping wet and covered with mud. I refrained from cursing, knowing I’d need those words once I hit the slope again and took off at a run.
Back in the cave, water sluiced off my shoulders and ran down my arms. I used the momentum to wipe off the dirt and grime as best I could. Case and Daze were back by the guns. “We’ve got an hour or two, tops,” I called as I headed into the tunnel where the boxes were. “A UAC just flew over the clearing. I’m not sure if this is a routine stop, or if the militia is trying to hunt us down. But it was definitely military. Once that thing gets back to the base, there’s a high probability whoever is looking is going to notice something. Reflective cloth works well, but it’s not infallible.”
Case and Daze followed me into the small space. “This is my fault,” Case said. “I should’ve rechecked the data and made sure the flight path was switched on.”
“Fault is not at issue here. Finding a safe place for the night is.” I glanced around. “But we can’t leave without opening these boxes.” I set the utility bag down. It was made of durable fiber and had multiple compartments. Before the dark days, people had used these for travel, or so I’d heard. The various sizes and separations made it valuable for carrying the things I needed. I pulled out a universal frequency key. It was roughly the size of my palm and two centimeters thick. It worked by creating a series of random frequencies in a single burst. “Grab the lid off the first one we opened. Let’s see once and for all if it’s a signal lock or a magnetic one.”
Case picked up the lid and inspected the undamaged part of the rim, then picked up the container. “I don’t see any mag-strips. But I don’t see a signal housing either.”
“Give it to me.” He handed the box over, and I took off a glove, running a finger around the inside, close to the top. In the corner, my finger bumped over a small groove that contained the frequency mechanism. “It’s here, but it’s very well made. They must’ve spent a fortune on these.” I tapped the corner on the outside with a fingernail. “The fiber wires run up here and connect with the cover.” I traced the inside rim of the lid and found a faint bulge tracking all the way around.
Case’s expression showed he was impressed. “How do you know so much about signal locks?”
“I’ve come across them often enough during my salvaging runs. Finding this handy little helper”—I held up the universal frequency key—“basically changed the way I do business. Things that were out of my reach aren’t now.”
He crossed his arms, sitting back on his haunches. “But frequency combinations are endless. Those things can combine a max of ten wave combinations at a time. That could take forever.”
“That’s true.” I knelt next to the new box. “But over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern. Professional lockboxes and larger-frequency safes are too ritzy for their own good. I can almost picture the sales specialist who sold this lot to Bliss Corp.” I gestured at the containers. “Touting how superior their locks were, versus the other guy’s, because they used an ultrahigh frequency that no one could crack.” I programmed the universal key to ultrahigh mixed with a single low pulse. “Most of the locks I’ve cracked have been ultrahigh with a few low pulses to throw people off. I’m not saying I can break this the first time, but I’m pretty confident the key can figure it out eventually. And as far as time, this key shoots ten billion different combinations into the lock per second.” I aimed it at the same corner where I’d found the housing on the other box and depressed the button.
“Who developed the universal keys?” Case asked.
“Hackers.”
“Of course.”
“From what I’ve read, hackers lived like royalty. The black market for things like this before the dark days had to have been a trillion-dollar industry. The world was so digitized and dependent on computers, I can’t imagine what it cost the average person to protect their personal data.” Or what it cost for someone to pay a hacker to break a code.
“It’s hard to imagine what that world looked like.” The wistfulness in his tone mirrored everyone’s when they reflected on all that had been lost.
“Agreed.” My finger continuously depressed the button. It’d been running for longer than thirty seconds. I was just about to reposition it and try again when a crack sounded as the edge of the cover popped free.
Daze’s impressed whoosh of breath followed by a “cool” behind me was enough to confirm that my salvager instincts had paid off. That, and the prize that waited for us.
I lifted the lid.
CHAPTER SIX
I tried not to be disappointed, but it was seeping in around the edges anyway. I blew out a long breath. The first seven boxes held nothing of note—more etch boards with no data chips, random office supplies, polylaminated folders with nothing in them but sales numbers.
The eighth box was being difficult. I punched the frequency key for the tenth time to try new combinations. This had been the lightest and noisiest box yet. When shifted from the stack, things inside had rolled around, clinking together. The only good thing was that this hadn’t taken too much time. We were an hour in.
Case and Daze stared at me with expectant looks. “I’m going as fast as I can,” I said. I was well aware that we were going to have to evacuate this place soon—we had an hour, tops, whether or not we got through all the lockboxes.
“There’s something different in this one,” Case said.
“Yep,” I said. “And if they were trying to keep this one extra safe, which seems likely, they might’ve doubled up on the locks. It might take more than one keyed frequency to get through.” I lifted up on the key, switching the dial to half high-frequency, half low-frequency, then depressed the button again.
“Maybe this one is something really different,” Daze said. “If all the other ones were ultrahigh, maybe this is all low?”
I shrugged. It was worth a try. While I adjusted the dial once again, I said, “It’s too bad Maisie can’t just tell us what the frequency is. What good is that egg anyway?” I joked.
Maisie said from inside Daze’s pants pocket, “I detect seven—”
“Like signatures,” I finished for her. “We know.” It was the third time she’d said it in the span of twenty minutes. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
Maisie replied, “The frequency combination is muted.”
I sat up straighter. “Wait, what?” That was new.
Daze’s eyes widened. “Something about the frequency being muted.”
“The lock frequency? Or another frequency?”
Daze brought the egg up to his mouth. “What frequency are you referring to?”
“The frequency is muted,” she repeated in her pleasant cadence.
“Set her next to the box. Maybe proximity matters.” Once Daze settled her on her cloth in front of the box, I leaned over and asked,
“Can you decipher the frequency signal three centimeters from you?”
“The frequency combination is muted,” she repeated.
“Expand details,” I ordered.
“The frequency combination has failed. Locking mechanism will not engage. Suggest using force.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Much better. What kind of force do you have in mind?” I asked. “We’re fresh out of hot lasers.”
“A solid strike to the signal housing will open it,” she said, surprising me. That was specific, and kind of spooky, all in a conversational tone. “I detect seven like signatures inside.”
My gaze found Case’s. “The like signatures are in this box.” Up until this point, Maisie hadn’t indicated where the like signatures were located.
Instead of answering, Case turned his attention to the doorway. His pulse gun was out in the next instant. I rose quickly, drawing my Gem. “Daze, get behind me,” I ordered as I followed Case out. “What did you hear?” My voice was low.
“It might be nothing,” he murmured, moving into the main room. “But it sounded like something landed above us.”
Dammit. “If that’s true, it took less time than we thought for the UAC to get back to its hub.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “If it’s a dronecraft, we would’ve heard props. It was something else.”
“Something like what?” I asked.
We had our answer in the next moment. Something was in the process of tumbling down the embankment outside the cave. It sounded like metal on stone. I shooed Daze farther into the darkness at the opposite end, away from the opening, while I aimed my gun in front of me.
Case gestured for me to take the left, while he edged right.
We waited. Nothing happened.
No more sounds.
Holding up three fingers, Case stuck his head through the cascading rain. I followed three seconds later. But instead of just my head, I went all the way through, dropping into a low crouch right outside the mouth of the cave. I couldn’t see up the hill, because there were large boulders in the way, but I couldn’t hear anything other than precipitation hitting my helmet.
Case eased out after me, holding up his entire hand this time, fingers closed. Then he briskly waved it to the left, curving his fingers slightly.
We would move around the corner together.
I nodded to let him know I understood.
He spread his hand wide.
On five, we both sprang, rounding the mouth of the cave, our guns aimed up the hill. I couldn’t see anything. Case lowered his hand first. “They sent a bot to check the area,” he said, nodding to a small mound stuck between some rocks halfway up the incline.
I finally spotted the object. It was round and matte black, no bigger than the size of Daze’s head. “Was it attached to a UAC?” I asked. “I’ve never seen a bot drop out of the sky before.” I squinted. Something was spinning on the bottom. “It looks like it has wheels. Not exactly the right fit for this terrain.”
“These are called Charlies,” Case said, making his way back. “They’re military UACs. Their wings and props contract, and they’re 360-degree video-capable. There’s a large eye inside the top of the curved dome. They’re supposed to be stealthy, almost soundless when they’re in the air. The military used them for surveillance before the dark days. If this one hadn’t crash-landed, we wouldn’t have heard it.”
“That thing doesn’t look stealthy.” I followed Case back inside. “It should be painted a dull gray to fit into our world.”
He was already rounding stuff up. “We need to leave now. We exit up the other side, away from the Charlie.”
“We can’t leave yet,” I argued. “We have twenty more boxes to check.”
Case shook his head. “No. We head out now, and when the militia is not tracking us, we come back.”
I sighed. He was right. That was happening a lot more lately, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. If the militia had sent out this Charlie, they had more than an inkling we were in this area. It was time to move.
Heading into the tunnel, I grabbed my utility bag off the ground, stuffing the frequency key and my ultra-light inside, attaching it to a loop at my waist. I picked up the lockbox we’d been trying to get open and tucked it under my arm. I came out to find Daze with his pack on, the smallest laser gun he’d found in the container in his fist. It looked gigantic.
Before I could tell him that there was no way in hell he was bringing it with us, he held up his hand in the universal gesture of wait until I’ve explained myself before you say no. “It doesn’t work. There is no fuel cell. I triple-checked. Can I please keep it? Bender might be able to fix it for me. I promise I won’t use it until I’m trained.”
“I thought Bender already gave you a laser gun,” I said.
“That was only to borrow,” Daze replied solemnly. Then he perked up. “This counts as my first real salvage.” He gave me an imploring look that was pretty damn effective. “I’ll always remember it.” The kid had a point. I would never forget my first find. It was a pixie motor. I still had it.
“Fine, but once we get back in the craft, stash it somewhere safe,” I told him. “We’re leaving now. We’ll circle back here on the return trip to the city, if we can lose the militia.” Case wasn’t inside the cave, so I assumed he’d gone to scan the area or headed to Seven to get her ready to go. I grabbed my pack on the way out, slinging it over my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”
The other side of the hill was just as rocky and hard to maneuver as the first side I’d gone up. The contents of the box rattled around under my arm. They certainly weren’t etch boards. The kid slipped and slid until I grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him up behind me. He weighed almost nothing. No wonder he couldn’t get any traction.
We hurried across the field. The reflective cloth covering Seven was gone, and she was stabilized a meter off the ground.
Case was ready to go.
His intensity about the situation made me uneasy. He knew the militia better than I did, and judging by his reactions, they were more than just a dangerous threat.
Once I was in the passenger side and strapped in, I turned to him. “What’s the plan?”
He took us into the air, wasting no time, gaining altitude faster than he had in the past.
He grunted. “Get as far away as possible.”
“Why don’t these guys just go to the city? It’s only four hours away. They obviously have means. Why not join regular civilization?” I knew the answer to that question as soon as the words left my mouth. They were outskirts and would always be outskirts. Following somebody else’s laws and keeping within the rules and confines of the city would be impossible. For all intents and purposes, these guys were rogues. They’d been living that way their entire lives. They weren’t above stealing, killing, and pillaging to get what they needed.
In fact, they enjoyed it.
Case gave me a look. “They are way past assimilation.”
The rain lessened a bit. I glanced out the window, trying to spot anything in the distance that might or might not be following us. “Ask Maisie if there is anything out there,” I told Daze as I kept my focus on the sky to my right.
Before Daze could relay the question, Maisie said, “Using my name, Maisie, before a question will elicit a response when uttered at a decibel level of ten or higher. There are no piloted crafts in the area. I detect one UAC five kilometers to the west.”
Maisie was indeed learning, and it was slightly unnerving. “That’s not what I wanted to hear,” I muttered. A UAC still in the area was a problem.
“The correct response is not always optimal,” Maisie agreed.
“I didn’t utter your name, Maisie,” I replied. “I thought that was the prompt.”
“We are engaged in a conversation. To end it, simply say, ‘Stop.’”
“Stop,” I said as I turned to Case, not having time to engage with the egg. “The UAC is likely the one I s
aw in the clearing doing its rounds. At least we know it hasn’t gone back to its base yet. That’s something.” Case veered the craft east, or what I thought was east. Our radar and radio were still off, just to be safe. “The UAC won’t be able to catch up with us, right?” I asked. “It can’t go as fast as Seven. Are you thinking about activating another hydro-boost?”
“This craft is only set for one at a time,” Case replied. “I didn’t load another one when we landed, which was a mistake.”
“Yeah, forgetting stuff like that could get us killed,” I said, turning to do a full grid scan out my passenger window. We were flying over some rolling hills, dead like everything else, but there were ample places to set down. “You could land down there and add another boost.”
He shook his head. “We’ll be over the ocean in less than ten minutes, by my calculations,” he said. “They won’t pursue us there. The chance of losing the UAC is too great. It will be programmed to turn back before it hits the sea.”
I turned to him, suddenly alarmed. “Can’t we just hug the coast? And if we see the UAC, then go over the ocean?”
Case had the nerve to chuckle, knowing how much I hated flying over the roiling sea. The waves were massive and angry, kicking up torrents of turbulent air. It was heart-stopping. “If we want to make sure we stay in the clear, which we do, the ocean is the only option.”
I crossed my arms. “My totally sensible idea about landing and putting in another boost is much better. You know I hate the sea. It’s vicious and unforgiving.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “And where exactly do you think we’re going to find the sodium alginate?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
I startled awake. It was dark, and everything was quiet. Case wasn’t in the pilot’s seat. I whipped my head around, relieved to see Daze sprawled in the back, snoring lightly. I ran a hand over my face, reaching for my helmet.
My first thought was that Case had drugged me again.
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