“Hey!”
I glanced up at the loud voice, dread filling me. The black mask and helmet of an Enforser stared at me. The second thing I saw was the ugly, matte-black Keeper in the Enforser’s hand.
CHAPTER 9
I stood for a half-second, momentarily paralyzed by terror.
“Drop it!” The Enforser’s voice sounded like a dog bark, pushing at me with almost physical force. But I could also tell it was a woman. Drop what?
I looked at my hand. I still held the nanocutter. I wasn’t finished. I shoved the cutter into my zip’s right pocket, grabbed the nearest tool, and flung it at the Enforser. She brought her Keeper up and I ran, desperately flinging more tools at her, trying to keep her distracted. I ran through the door to Dev 3 so fast that my left shoulder clipped the sliding door.
I tightened my neck and back, sure I was about to be hit with a jolt of electricity or a rubber bullet. I threw myself left, skidding behind a table and crawling on all fours toward the door to Dev 4. Where should I go? How was I supposed to get—
An explosion pounded in my ears, and something whizzed past my face. A metallic thud, followed by several others, then the sound of tools being smashed. Those weren’t rubber bullets. I ducked and kept crawling as fast as I could. The cutter fell out of my pocket. I grabbed it and stuck the somewhat soft handle in my mouth. I gagged briefly but fought the unpleasant sensation away and kept going.
“Stop!” I glanced back at the shout. The Enforser, if it was the same one, stood in the doorway back to Dev 2. “Don’t move!”
I moved. Maybe I could make it to the west entrance. Dipping low, I scampered across the room, trying to keep a table or two between me and the Enforser, and probably other Enforsers who had to be behind her. “Nik Granjer, out of station, late to shift.” The sensor’s voice shocked me, but I instantly understood. My Papa had come too close to a sensor at a work station.
Didn’t those things sleep?
There had to be Enforsers at every entrance. Bren had died, and if it wasn’t obvious why he’d gotten the Bug, it was pretty clear that he’d been infected. Their monitoring systems had to know that I’d been with him. They should just want to grab me, talk to me, even if it was just to make sure I wasn’t infected, too.
But they were trying to kill me now. That Enforser had shot real bullets at me. Twice.
The floor of the Enjineering Dome felt cool under my hands as I half ran, half crawled closer to Dev 4. Hunched low, I was pretty sure the Enforser didn’t have a good shot at me. But that also meant I couldn’t see her.
“Come out, and we’ll go easy,” the Enforser called.
I kept as silent as I could, knowing she would see when I made it to Dev 4.
“The Dome’s surrounded, Nik. You’re not going anywhere.”
I gritted my teeth, biting hard on the cutter’s handle, and threw myself forward. Just two more tables and I’d be at the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The Enforser sounded angry and surprised.
I rounded the last table, and the door must have sensed me because it slid open with a soft hiss. I grabbed the nanocutter out of my mouth and dove through, hearing a small explosion followed by a crackling sizzle above my right shoulder. Electrodes skipped off the floor in front of my hand, sparking. Yelping, I yanked my hand back toward me.
I rolled and felt my EarCom jog loose, nearly falling out of my left ear. I stuffed it deeper in. I had to keep moving and move in unexpected ways or she’d get me next time. I grabbed a table leg, using it to help me change directions fast. Then I stood a little, banging my shoulder hard on the corner of the table. Pain sliced through me. I ignored it and got away from the door, hoping it would close, at least briefly, before the Enforser showed up again.
Maybe I could hide before she got here, stay out of sight.
No. They’d find me. They had all the time in the world; the building was surrounded. No way out.
I glanced around Dev 4 and put the cutter in my pocket, this time remembering to zip my pocket closed. Only two more Development labs until the west entrance. And if they could track Papas really well, they would know exactly where I was. No hiding while I still wore the thing. And they probably had people closing in from the other side.
I scanned Dev 4. Rojer’s lab. The enhanced cycle we’d been working on.
A shimmering dust cloth covered Rojer’s and my invention. That Enforser would be here any second.
The doors whispered open as I flung the dust cloth off and reached for the starter, straddling the powered cycle. Feet extending from each side kept the machine balanced.
I darted a glance at the open door. Feeling my pulse in my head, I grabbed the handlebars and pressed the start button. The Enforser appeared through the doorway just as the machine rumbling and shaking with a high-pitched whine. Then it lifted off the ground. I noted that my body naturally conformed to the seat and—
No, it was conforming to me. I felt slight movements under me and between my legs as the nano-plastic that made up the body of the cycle molded itself to me. I ducked hard as electrodes sizzled over me. They splattered just behind me.
“Stop!” the Enforser yelled.
I threw my body forward. “Come on! Go!” The special cycle jerked forward an inch. I glanced down. BRAKE flashed urgently red on a small readout in the middle console of the handlebars. I’d forgotten!
Shouts and explosions filled the lab as I ducked and flipped the brake toggle off.
The door leading to Dev 5 slid open. Two Enforsers emerged. They fired immediately, explosions bouncing off the lab’s walls, rubber bullets slamming into the cycle. Two clipped my left shoulder.
“Lethal force!” the first Enforser shouted.
I shouted in pain and ducked, throwing myself forward again. The cycle blasted out of its space, the feet that had been holding it up on either side sliding into the body of the machine with a satisfying whir and click. Nearly thrown off the hovering machine, I pulled back.
The Enforsers had obviously been just as surprised as I had been when the machine exploded into motion. They backed off momentarily, back through the door to Dev 5.
When I leaned back, the cycle jerked roughly to a stop, lifting a little. I knew in my head how to control the machine, but I had never actually tried. It was really sensitive.
I leaned forward again. The cycle blasted forward. I squeezed the handles, clenching the body of the machine with my knees. I leaned to turn the machine and tore through the door, knocking one of the Enforsers to the ground in the process. Dev 5 was devoted to agricultural enjineering, so there were only a few worktables covered in prototypes of farming equipment. I saw no Enforsers ahead of me, so I leaned forward again. The machine went faster. I was shooting along, maybe a half-meter off the ground, faster than I’d ever gone before on my cycle.
As I aimed toward the door to Dev 6, and hopefully through that room to the outside, I inspected the special cycle. Brake switch, check. Lean forward to go, check. Back to slow or stop. Check. I tested the pads under my feet, using them to make my turns more precise. The machine was sensitive to everything, and it worked perfectly. I wished Rojer could see it.
I glanced over my shoulder. The Enforsers had no way of keeping up, but they were trying hard. I hoped that the two I’d blasted past had been the only ones coming from the west entrance. I needed to get through the door to Dev 6. It was maybe fifteen or twenty meters ahead of me, and it would only open when it sensed someone approaching. But these doors always opened slowly, and I was moving fast. I tossed another glance backward.
It would be close. I pulled backward a little; the handlebars moved toward me. I was suddenly nearly two meters off the ground, still hurtling toward the closed doors. My heart hammering and wind prying my mouth open, I leaned back and slowed. I eased the handlebars forward until I was back to a half-meter above the Dome’s floor.
Turns out the powered cycle could actually fly a little. Did Rojer know that?
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I slowed more just as I closed to within four meters of the door. Another two meters and the door opened. I leaned forward and zipped between the doors before they’d made it all the way into the walls.
The west entrance to the dome was invisible behind a group of at least five Enforsers. The ones behind me must have called ahead because these new ones immediately started shooting at me. I ducked and made a hard left, just in time to miss the net that flew over my head. Something slammed into the cycle, making it wobble a bit. I weaved between tables covered with computer parts and huge magnifiers.
Dev 6 was filled with shouts and explosions, all muffled against the backdrop of the powered cycle. I continued dodging tables, ducking and weaving wildly, trying to lower the chance of getting hit. The cracks of the bullets suddenly dropped off. I looked up and saw some of the Enforsers reloading their Keepers. I decided to rush forward while they were distracted and try to draw them away from the door.
I directed the cycle toward the Enforsers, accelerating. Bug it. I wasn’t fast enough to surprise them. They stood their ground and took aim; they weren’t going to move. And when the other Enforsers showed up, they’d win eventually.
I swerved abruptly to the left and zigzagged nearer to the other door, thinking I could go back the way I came. The three Enforsers filled the doorway in front of me. They fired immediately. I swerved crazily. Dull pain from the earlier rubber bullets had set in on my right side and back.
This was bad. Both exits were blocked. I wasn’t going to get past the Enforsers. And I didn’t think I could fit through one of the windows even if I could break it. Windows. I looked up. I couldn’t get in the Dome through a skylight, but could I get out?
Also, how high could this thing go?
CHAPTER 10
I couldn’t dodge bullets and sizzling electrodes forever. Leaning into a hard left turn, I rocketed around a table and headed for the north end of Dev 6. There was a pretty straight shot from the north wall to the south wall of the lab, directly between tables and workstations. Something hot sliced the skin where my right shoulder met my neck. Lances of white pain burrowed into my scalp and shot down my back.
I clenched my jaw, fighting away the aches all over my body. I felt blood drip down from the cut in my neck. More real bullets. They wanted me dead. But why?
The Enforsers had begun to fan out, leaving one person directly in front of each door, blocking the way. I dragged the cycle into a sliding turn, leaning back and squeezing the handgrips hard to keep from losing control. I turned the right handgrip forward a bit, and the propulsion units’ whine lowered into a growl.
I turned the throttle again, and the machine bucked under me, growling deeper. I pushed the handgrip forward but didn’t lean forward yet. The cycle bucked under me again. I gunned the throttle and leaned forward, immediately pulling the handlebars back a little.
I shot forward, straight down the narrow aisle that ran from the north to the south wall. I had maybe sixty meters ahead of me. The cycle lifted above the floor, gaining speed. I glanced to either side. The Enforsers had fanned out more and had stopped shooting so much. They looked like they were about to try something; their movements seemed coordinated.
The cycle was gaining altitude, but not fast enough. I looked up and saw the skylight. With the light in Dev 6 making the skylight opaque, it looked like I was planning to hit a block of solid black. I would have to circle at least once to gain enough altitude and get the right trajectory. Working my feet carefully, I angled the cycle into a right turn, still gaining altitude. I was way more than ten meters off the ground. Keeping my body forward, I pulled back, flying higher.
Pain flared in my calf as I got hit by a rubber bullet. I tightened my grip on the cycle and gave it more throttle, finding it harder to stay upright the higher I got. I guessed I was at fifteen meters, only five to go, when something slid across the back of my calves. Keeping my head low, I glanced down and back.
Bug me. I hadn’t known about those. Rojer had obviously planned to take the powered cycle on a flight. Stubby wings, maybe two feet long, had just finished extending from above each side of the rear propulsion unit.
I hoped the skylight wasn’t too narrow for me to fit through. I hoped the tempered glass would pop out or break easily when the cycle hit it. I hoped I could aim well enough to not splatter myself against the ceiling.
Or wrap myself around the girders that were now flashing by maybe three meters above my head.
I had to get this right. I wouldn’t get a second try because if I missed, I’d hit a girder and that would be it. No more Nik. No more rocket cycle.
The wobbling of the cycle had evened out when the wings deployed, so now I was able to take a tighter right turn. This was my final pass. I glanced down. The Enforsers had stopped shooting and were all running toward the west entrance. Some had already made it out. They must have guessed what I was about to do. I briefly hoped that all of them would go out, leaving the exit unattended—but no. Two stayed behind.
I refocused my attention on flying. Thirty meters left. I pulled the cycle into a slightly steeper climb. I found that if I was careful, I could fly just between two long girders in a sort of channel that led to the skylight. Pushing the throttle, I leaned forward, my chest and stomach flat on the body of the cycle. I had to be going fifty kilometers per hour, maybe more. This was going to hurt.
Ten meters. I gave it all the throttle I could and pulled up sharply. The cycle jerked once or twice and then responded, its nose angling up. I tucked my head down, wanting the front of the machine to take the brunt of the hit. Bracing for the horrible impact, I closed my eyes, clenching the cycle with every muscle in my body.
It was nowhere near as bad as I’d expected.
A huge bang, like two gigantic metal hands clapping once, deafened me. My ears popped at the massive noise. I felt a bone-jarring slam on the front of the cycle and slipped forward on the machine somewhat, but I was held in place by the nano-plastic Rojer had used to build the seat. I briefly imagined myself being splattered through girders, but after a second, I was in the cool, late night air of New Frisko.
Now I was slipping backward a little, still gaining altitude. I had to even out, had to get control. Even as I tried to pull myself into a better position, the cycle angled more steeply up. Not working. I had to change my direction, fast. Wind tore at my clothes, the hood of my zip. I pushed with my left foot.
My angle changed and I was suddenly able to see the ground over my left shoulder. I had to be eighty meters up. My heart stopped beating for a full second or two. I pushed up with my feet, stopping my turn but gaining a better hold on the cycle. I pushed the handlebar forward a little, finally slowing my ascent.
Angling myself toward the east edge of New Frisko, I eased the cycle out of its climb and then down so I was skimming above houses. I blinked against the wind as I carefully wiped one sweaty hand, then the other, against my zip. I felt practically every pulse, my veins and arteries expanding and contracting with every pump of blood. I’d never felt more alive, more free.
A shout exploded from my chest. Anger and grief and guilt conflicted with my relief and exhilaration. I was alive, free. I’d done it. I beat the Bug and the Enforsers. And I was flying: the most incredible sensation ever.
But Bren was dead, and I knew the Enforsers behind me would catch up fast. I screamed again, hurling exultant defiance at the artificial world that seemed so clear to me now. I had to keep this view. I had to stay in this new world. I could never go back, no matter what. Even if I was immune, I wouldn’t go back. I’d give them my blood, but that was all.
The sirens peeled back the momentary freedom I’d felt. I tossed a look over my shoulder. Lights flashed gold and scarlet on the Enforser pods. They were coming.
CHAPTER 11
I knew the Enforsers’ pods were faster than me. And I still had my Papa, so I couldn’t very well hide or dodge effectively. The wrist-dad had to come off.
I an
gled the cycle down until I was coasting maybe a meter above the road that led past Green Rez and toward Hope Park. The Papa needed to come off, but if I stopped to cut the strap, the Enforsers would catch me. I’d have to be fast. Then a thought came to me: I could control my speed and direction with my body and feet, so I didn’t need to hold the handlebar the entire time.
I leaned back and angled myself into the mix of shadows thrown by the streetlights, steadying the cycle into a straight glide. I released the handlebar, going for my pocket with the nanocutter in it. The cycle’s whine immediately dropped pitch, and the machine slowed suddenly, lowering quickly until it was a fraction of a meter above the road surface.
I cursed Rojer’s carefulness. He’d told me he was going to build a safety mechanism into the machine and done it while I was at school. I leaned forward, noticing that when my Papa passed in front of a dark sensor on the left of the console, the sensor flashed and the cycle’s power came back. Thanks, Rojer.Now what?
I felt like the Enforser Pod would scream up behind me any second. No time! Two courses of action crystallized. I could cut the Papa off, drop it, and try to get as far away as possible on foot before they figured out what I’d done. Or I could remove the Papa, somehow attach it to the rocket cycle, and—
No, that wouldn’t work. The machine wouldn’t move without someone controlling it.
I pulled to a stop, circling around the back of a house. The cycle settled to the ground, two feet automatically deploying from either side and propping it up.
Pulling the nanocutter from my zip pocket, I looked up quickly. I’d made it maybe three or four kilometers away from the Enjineering Dome and only had a couple more blocks until I hit the edge of town. I could drop the Papa down a ravine and just go on foot at that point. The Enforsers wouldn’t be far behind me.
I placed the nanocutter over the strap on the inside of my wrist and tapped the configuration tabs on the cutter with my thumb. Breathing slowly, I willed my heart rate to slow. I had to be near 140 again. The strap on the Papa was made of rez-stik, and that was a preloaded setting in the cutter. That made it faster. I figured the strap was about three millimeters thick. I activated the cutter and held still.
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