by Adara Quick
Deirdre dropped her hood and said, “Just hold on! I’m not Ministry, and I’m here to talk to you. I need help from the underground.”
Cashel lowered the chair and snorted, “Just a kid, eh?” Then he turned away from her. In two long strides he was in the kitchen, and grabbed his dinner out of the cupboard. “Get out of here, little girl,” he said. “This isn’t for you.”
Deirdre frowned and her eyes narrowed. She said, “I’m not a little girl. And I’ll get out when you agree to help me. My friend is in trouble.”
“A lot of people in this city are in trouble. Do you see me helping them?” Cashel pushed some clothes out of the way and sat down on the couch.
Deirdre walked over to stand in front of him. Time to bluff. “I know your name, where you live, and where you work. I also know what you do in your spare time.”
The man stuck a straw into his Nutripak and started drinking. After two slurps he cocked his head to the side and asked, “And what is that?”
Pointing at him, Deirdre said, “You’re part of a network of people committed to sabotaging the Ministry. You hack into the cloud. You steal dreams and sell them for information and favors. You want the Minister destroyed. But if you don’t help me, I’m going to turn you in to the next Drone I see.”
Cashel sat a little straighter on the couch and was silent for a few breaths. Then he leaned back again and said, “Alright, Deirdre Callaghan. You think you know me. But I know you too. You’re a Maker’s daughter. So, what is it like at the top of the food chain?”
“What is it like working with the underground?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I’m just a man at the bottom in wastewater treatment.”
Deirdre took a deep breath and let it out in frustration as Cashel calmly slurped his Nutripak again. She said, “We’re on the same side. My friend is captured, and they’re going to kill him if we don’t help.”
“Hypothetically speaking, what is it that you think I can do for your friend? Take out the entire Drone army?”
“I’m being serious. My friend has an ageing disorder and they’re calling him ruined. I need a data profile to show that his lab work is normal. I need a way to upload it to the medical archive. And I need to know when the Medical Director is meeting with Dylan O’Brian.”
“Just that?” Cashel gave a snort and then took another slurp on his Nutripak.
Deirdre said, “If you’re really underground, it shouldn’t be hard. And if you’re not underground…well, I doubt that the Drones I talk to will care. There are Dream Justice quotas and I am a Maker’s daughter, after all. At the top of the food chain.”
Cashel got off the couch and spread his arms wide. “Well, little girl, I’m willing to gamble that you’re not going to turn me in. If you do, how will you save your friend? So, I propose a different kind of relationship. Fee for service.” He took another drink from the Nutripak.
“I see,” said Deirdre, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what do you want as payment?”
Cashel’s face turned into a smile and his full lips let go of the straw. “A Dream Maker’s Sequencer.”
Deirdre’s jaw dropped open slightly. “A Sequencer! You’ve got to be kidding.”
“If you’re really a Maker’s daughter, it shouldn’t be hard,” he quipped, mirroring the tone of voice she had used on him a moment ago.
“Fine,” she said. “You’ll have it first thing tomorrow. But my data better be here.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart. A deal is a deal.”
“Just so you know, I expected you to be different,” Deirdre said, preparing to leave. “My opinion of the underground has gone way down.”
“Whatever, lass. Fill out a survey. See you on the morrow.”
Deirdre brought up her hood, wrapped the cloak around her face once more, and left the room. She walked back to the lift on Level 25 but barely noticed anything along the way. How am I going to steal a Sequencer from my parents?
Flynn sat on the floor of his cell, staring at the wall. He silently counted the tiles opposite to where he sat. Again. His eyes were puffy and dark underneath from sleeplessness. The Medical Director was nearby, sitting at his workstation in the main area. He reviewed pages of text and spoke softly to himself at odd intervals.
Flynn glanced over at the Director and said, “What are you doing?”
Odran paused the scrolling data and looked up from his work. “Assembling my report in your medical file.”
“My results are back, then?”
“Oh yes. They came in this morning. I have your defect here, a fault on chromosome 14.”
Flynn turned away, his face wrinkled in disgust. “Good for you,” he said bitterly.
“Yes, good for me,” said the Director. “Tomorrow I meet with the Minister’s Second and give my recommendations.” He turned back to his work.
Flynn’s breathing quickened, coming in shallow gasps. His eyes narrowed to a squint and he studied the Director. Then he stood up, his breath now coming in heaves. Still the Director ignored him. So Flynn let out a yell and ran at the barrier, ramming his shoulder into the invisible field. The barrier repelled him with equal force, letting out a sharp snap of electricity. It threw him back onto the floor and he slid along the slick tiles, coming to a stop at the opposite wall. The impact had hit him hard and he struggled to stand up again, pulling at the wall for support.
Odran finally looked up and said, “Don’t hurt yourself, lad. I plan to make an example of you for the entire city, and I need the goods to be intact. This will be a descent that everyone attends.”
Flynn leaned on the wall and stared at the Director with hatred in his eyes. In a soft voice he said, “You don’t get to decide who lives and who doesn’t.”
Odran stood up from the table and closed down his cloud access. He said, “Maybe not. But I know the people that do.” Then he strode from the room, a man consumed.
5
JANICE: CAN’T BELIEVE U GET TO VACA @ SKELLIG CTY RESORT. WISH I WAS.
LAURIE: I NO. MUM SAYS THE DREAMS R KILLER. BT MOSTLY SHE WANTS HER BESTY 2 B JEALOUS.
JANICE: HOW DID U GET ON THE LIST?
LAURIE: DA CONTRACTS 4 IDREAM SHIPPING ENGINE PARTS. THER BUILDNG SOMTHNG BIG.
JANICE: WHT?
LAURIE: WHO CARES? AS LONG AS I GET 2 GO.
- Text message exchange
Date stamp 4.22.2048
Deirdre was awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. She could hear Breck’s slow, regular breathing in the bunk below. In the dark of the room, she raised her wristband over her face and checked the time. Two AM. Time to go.
She pulled back the wool covers slowly and eased her legs over the edge of the mattress until her feet found the rungs of the ladder. Breck’s sleeping didn’t change at all, so Deirdre dropped to the floor without making a sound. She’s dreaming deeply tonight. Good.
Once in the common area, she went to her parents’ bedroom door and paused there, listening against the gap. The only sound coming from the room was her father’s snoring. She stood there listening for a long time. Just listening. Her fingers began to tingle because somewhere along the way she had stopped breathing. Forcing a deep breath, she closed her eyes. This is for Flynn. That’s all that matters.
She pushed the door open just far enough to squeeze through. A sliver of greenish light from the emergency bulb in the kitchen fell across her parents’ sleeping bodies. Still, her father’s snoring didn’t change. Which one should I take? He’s the one that’s helping them the most. So his. Slowly she crept over to the foot of her parents’ bed where a chest of drawers was placed against the wall. Deirdre knew that the drawers were divided the way her parents slept. Her father always took the left side of the bed, so she reached for the top drawer on the left.
Slowly, so slowly, she pulled her father’s Sequencer out. But the movement of metal against metal gave out a high-pitched squeak. Sean’s snoring stopped and Deirdre went completely still, her fingers resting lightly
on the prize. She stopped breathing again and stayed that way until her father rolled over and the snoring resumed. I’ve got to get out of here.
She wrapped her fingers around the Sequencer and pulled it out, being careful not to bump it on anything. Stowing it under her arm, she lifted and slid the drawer back into place without making any more noise. With her objective in hand, she turned back to the door and tiptoed toward the light.
Just as she was about to disappear around the corner, her mother spoke. Siobhan sat up in bed and said, “Deirdre. I trust you to do the right thing. I always have, and I always will.”
Deirdre looked back into the room at the sound of her mother’s voice. The words and the loving tone in them caught her. The light from the kitchen fell across Siobhan’s face and she saw her mother’s dark eyes shining back at her. She wanted to say something, but somehow she just couldn’t. The argument over her interview with the Second was still too fresh.
Siobhan whispered, “Goodnight, daughter.” She then lay back down next to Sean.
Deirdre closed the door behind her and made it back to her own bunk. She stuffed the stolen Sequencer under her pillow and pulled the covers up over herself. Her mother’s words felt paralyzing. I am doing the right thing, aren’t I? She shook her head to clear her mind and set her alarm for 5:00 AM, early enough for her to leave the house before her father woke up.
Deirdre tossed and turned in her bed as the hours passed by. She didn’t want to sleep; she wanted to keep thinking about how to break Flynn out of medical. Finally, she snapped alert to the sound of her wristband alarm going off. Pulling her tired body out of bed, she was eager to get out of the house before her father woke up and discovered the theft. She wrapped herself in Flynn’s cloak again and stuffed the Sequencer into her knapsack underneath. A few minutes later, she was on Level 25 knocking on Cashel’s door.
The door slid open and Cashel waved her inside. Deirdre’s nose wrinkled – somehow the place smelled even worse than before. The odor of unwashed clothes and sweat was hard to take. Cashel looked a mess, too. Rumpled strands of hair had sneaked out of his ponytail, and puffy circles had developed under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept since she last saw him.
Deirdre cleared her throat and said, “Well. Are you finished?”
Cashel raised his eyebrows. “I’m finished, as long as you brought what I asked for.”
Deirdre nodded and reached under her cloak for the knapsack. She went over to the table to sit it down and gently pulled out the Sequencer. She said, “Alright. Here’s my part. Now where’s yours?”
Cashel let out a soft whistle when she handed the Sequencer to him. He said, “Back in a minute.” Cashel took the Sequencer into the other room and came back with something small in his hand. He held it out to her; in his palm was a shimmering blue orb, almost like an egg. It caught hints all of the colors in the room, almost like her glo ball from class. “Here is the data you need, love.”
Deirdre took it gently in her hand and said, “It’s beautiful. What is it?”
“Why it’s a bug, of course, designed to deliver the data you need. A dragonfly, to be specific.”
“A real dragonfly?”
“Well, no. But as real as it gets in this place. All the data on it is formatted to look like actual medical records and lab tests, complete with the Director’s electronic signature. I even threw in a bonus and wrote a report stating that Flynn is normal. Now, when you get to the Director’s desk on the medical unit...”
Deirdre interrupted him, saying, “Wait. What do you mean, his desk on the unit? I don’t have to actually go there, do I? The place is guarded by Drones and who knows what else.”
“Sorry, lass. Actually you do.”
“No. Just stop. I thought you were some tech wizard. Don’t you understand what cloud means?”
Cashel pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Yes, dearie. I know what cloud means. And you’re almost not worth a Sequencer, by the way. Going through the cloud means that any data transfer will be logged along the network checkpoints. No way to get around that. Bad for you, and bad for your friend. You need to be physically at the Director’s access point.”
“No other way?”
Cashel shook his head and crossed his arms. “Nope. Not if you want the transfer to be invisible.”
Deirdre closed her eyes in frustration. Exasperated, she sighed and said, “Whatever. Once I get in there, what do I do then?”
Cashel said, “First you activate the access portal in the desk and bring up the login screen. But do not try to type a password. This is important. Do you understand?”
“Yes. No password. Go on.”
“Then, you hold the bug up to the portal,” said Cashel, pointing at the orb in Deirdre’s hands. “You blow on it softly to activate it. It will bloom and transmit a malware app through the access portal. It eats Flynn’s entire data file, vomits out a new one, and then eats itself. No record. I’m keeping this simple so you can follow along.”
She said, “Funny. You’re almost not worth saving Flynn’s life, by the way. And when it’s finished? What do I do with it?”
“You’ll find out.”
Deirdre put the device into her sack. “Oh, all right. When is the Medical Director meeting with Dylan?”
Cashel pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “That’s the bad news. The meeting is today at 3:00.”
“What! Today?” Deirdre cried, her eyes wide with alarm.
Cashel shrugged. “That’s the intel. I don’t grind the sausage, I just deliver it. You and your friend have 7 hours to get this done.”
Seven hours! I don’t even know how to get in there yet. Deirdre quickly wrapped the cloak around her face again and walked to the door.
Cashel said, “Good luck. And remember: I don’t know you.”
On her way out, Deirdre turned and said, “I wonder, Cashel. Do you know anybody?”
Antrim lay in bed, watching the light come up on her daylight lamp. Slowly, the round sphere that sat on the table at her bedside became brighter and brighter, signaling that it was morning and time to start the day. She preferred it to the loud ping of the wristband alarm which always made her jump. She rolled out of bed and began dressing in the light of the lamp. Grabbing for her wristband, she snapped it on and checked the time.
Hitting her earbud device, she subvocally dictated a tickertape message to Deirdre. The message read, “I need to talk. Where have you been? I need you. Will you meet me in the Wave Room in 20? I’m going for a ride before school.”
Deirdre was still wandering the hallways after her meeting with Cashel when the message came in. She read it and wondered what Antrim could need to talk about so early in the day. Well, that’s fine. I have some things of my own to talk about. Like how I’m going to get into the med clinic.
Back in her room, Antrim grabbed her knapsack out of the closet and gently slid her bedroom door open so she wouldn’t wake her Uncle Brandan. She grabbed a Flavor B Nutripak from the cupboard for herself and set out a Flavor D for her uncle. He liked it when she made him breakfast. Slurping down her own, she then went to the bathroom. She quickly washed her teeth and face with antiseptic mist using the pullout wand next to the mirror. Then she grabbed hold of the sink to wait for the predictable post-Nutripak dizziness to pass and examined her hair in the mirror. Giving it a fluff, she decided she was presentable and headed out the door with her things.
The lift ride to the Wave Room was quite a few levels. But she finally made it to the hallway on Level 40 and entered the area through the double sliding glass doors. A slow grin spread across Antrim’s face as she looked out across the open space. She liked to come early before school when the course was empty. It was better than having to vie with the more aggressive kids for space. Quite a few times, Antrim had been elbowed out of a jump to the sound of laughter and jeers. It wasn’t fair, but it wasn’t really worth a battle, either.
She grabbed her board out of her
bag and tossed her knapsack onto the bench. Pulling both ends of it apart, she extended it into the familiar hourglass shape of her skateboard. Antrim looked out across the concrete hills and valleys, high and low shapes forming the waves from which the room got its name. Some city restructure from long ago had warped and bent the concrete, forming the peaks and rolls in the surface. The Minister had allowed the kids to have the space as an exercise area.
Placing her board on the floor, she hopped on. The front edge listed into the air as she balanced all of her weight on the back end. The board was new tech, a rare present from her uncle for her 14th birthday. Its smooth metal surface hovered a few inches off the floor; it could keep her entire body weight suspended for hours before the battery life ran out. It was built to glide with almost zero friction along the bottom by transferring all of the friction to her feet, keeping them solidly planted on the board surface. Next to Deirdre and Flynn, the board was her best friend.
Using a gentle rocking motion, she scooted over to the edge of the first big valley, a 20-foot drop. She felt her heart race and took a long deep breath to steady herself. This was always the best moment, looking down the throat of the great concrete creature and then tipping your weight over the edge in a burst of boldness. She threw herself into the drop and her board hurtled downward, her body almost parallel with the floor. She leaned into the first curve, leveraging her body against gravity with a slingshot trick.
Then she was up the next wall and over Widow’s Peak. The nervous voice inside her head stopped and she was all motion. As she hit the peak, the momentum catapulted her upward and she was airborne. Pulling her knees tight against her body, she tapped the front of her board with her palm as she glided through the air. Then, she stretched out again and prepared for a second crouch as her board connected with the concrete. She angled left across the next flat stretch and headed for the Caterpillar. “Today is my 720!”