by A. B. Keuser
“The timer’s stopped….” He squatted down, studying the mechanism without touching it. “But I’m pretty sure that was just the drop-timer. The way this thing is set up, I’d guess it was going to detonate when it hit the right temperature threshold.”
Drea looked from the bomb to her, and then at the man who should have been sorting out how to stop it from blowing up, instead of ogling it. “Is that helpful?”
He hummed and shook his head. “I would have set the trigger at five hundred kelvin, let it get as close to the core as I dared.”
“Okay, but you’re not trying to set this bomb off. So how do we disarm it?”
“I’m working on that.” Putty shot a look at Chadrick and the doctor left her brother to the tender mercies of unconsciousness.
When he joined them, it was with a scrutiny the bomb had likely never seen before.
“I’ll take it.”
Chad reached out, but before Sophia could even think of handing it over, Putty stepped between them with a harsh “No.”
He placed his hands over hers on the bomb and looked her dead in the eyes. “That would be a very bad idea.”
Something in the way he said it kept her from accusing him of wanting her to be the one who blew up, rather than anyone he actually liked.
“The first thing I’m going to ask you to do, is make sure this hand does not leave where it is right now.” He dropped to his knees and threw open a tool kit. “They put in a Mother damned deadman’s switch.”
“Joy and exaltations,” she said in a flat tone, holding the thing up, trying to see what he was talking about.
“Left thumb,” Putty said as he threw a clatter of tools to the side. “Drea, I’m going to need your head lamp.”
“Are you okay?” Chad had lowered his voice and stepped forward. “Some people express a great deal of anxiety through calmness.”
“The Great Mother put this bomb in my hand for a reason. Besides… we get it dealt with, or it’s not my problem anymore.”
Chad studied her for a long moment. “Maybe that’s why the Great Mother put you here—in his path—because you were the one who had the ability to hold it steady.”
“Maybe.”
“Here,” Putty half pushed Chad out of the way, his focus solely on the bomb. “If I can get the casing off, we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
Sophia didn’t move as he got to work unscrewing the itty bitty fastenings. She didn’t flinch at the sound of gunshots behind her. Banks was doing his job, she’d do hers.
Drea left them, disappearing toward the sound of the fight, and Chad stood silently by, taking anything Putty handed him. The tiny screwdriver, and tinier screws. The plate he pried free from the bomb’s housing. He even accepted Putty’s dead, chewed up gum without question.
She blocked him out, focusing on the spaghetti of wiring illuminated by the headlamp Putty had borrowed.
It was probably only a minute later, but it felt like twelve, when Putty swore under his breath and threw a pair of needle nose pliers away.
Chad looked after them and grimaced. “I’m going to let you two talk… maybe get some of that frustration out so you can focus, or… maybe you need to say something else.”
Putty glanced after his friend and rolled his eyes before he got back to work. “Now’s not the time for deathbed confessions. Not that I’d be able to believe you.”
“No, and after what you did to my brother, I can guarantee it’s not the time for apologies either.”
His lips pressed together in a firm line.
“You’ve built bombs before. Shouldn’t dismantling one be easy enough?”
“Take a moment to remember who made this one. The Lazarai aren’t always logical in their methods… and they really don’t have anything to lose if this thing goes off up here, or down there. I don’t trust anything.”
“I’m not going to be able to keep hold of this thing forever.”
“I just need to find the right wire.” He ducked his head and squinted into the mess. “They’ve used UPD-5 as the explosive.”
“Is that important?”
“It means we don’t have to look for a power source. A chunk this size could power the trigger to blow itself up and a microwave oven for a hundred years.”
It started flashing.
“Shit.”
“What did you do?”
“I don’t know,” he poked around in the wiring more.
“Okay,” she took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes, squinting against the harsh light of the head lamp. “Hey. Calm down. You’re not going to help anyone if you’re freaking out.”
“Right,” He bobbed an agreement, lamp wobbling, and looked back at the device in her hands. “I just need to cut the right wires in the right order. Which just means I need to think like a homicidal maniac.”
Or…
“Which ones are actually connected to the UPD-5?”
“The three yellow ones, but there’s no way I’d be able to cut all of them at once…”
“I have an idea.” Though she would fully admit it probably wasn’t a good one. “Hold the bottom for me?”
He gave her a wary glance, but did as she asked.
“Like your friend said, the Great Mother put me here for a reason.”
And then, she ripped the wiring out of the bomb with a single jerk.
Putty fell backward, scrambling away, eyes as round as the moon had once been. But nothing happened. The bomb—now at her feet thanks to the loss of his support—hadn’t blown, the wires in her hand weren’t sparking. Even the gunshots behind her hadn’t changed.
“Are you insane?”
“You and banks should have a long talk about that someday. Ask him about the time I jumped off a cliff and he’ll tell you the answer to that question is a definite yes.”
A grinding echoed through the cavern around them, and all else stopped as the machine’s gears wound up, and it’s housing pitched forward, dropping the drill shaft into the ground.
The tremor from its impact knocked them all to the ground, and Banks was at her side before she could push back up to her elbows.
Putty was already back at the machine.
She spared him a single glance before jerking her head toward Geo’s seemingly-lifeless form. “We need to get out of here. There’s nothing left for us to help with.”
In the panicked aftermath, she’d managed to get Geo out. Banks, despite his objections, had slung her unconscious brother over his shoulders and gotten him back to the terrafarm more quickly than Sophia had thought was possible when carrying one hundred and seventy pounds of dead weight. Dead weight she wanted to slap around until he saw sense. Not—she admitted to herself—that she thought there was any of that left in his head.
It was why she didn’t do more than shoot Banks a look when he dropped Geo on the bed in the farm’s infirmary. It was why she didn’t ask the doctors for anything more than a confirmation he’d live.
It was why she was now watching the infirmary on the security feeds in her office, instead of waiting outside the curtain as they worked to salvage the mangled mess left behind by Putty’s explosive tape.
“This is going to be a PR disaster,” Banks had stayed by the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he scowled at the ceiling.
“It won’t.” Eyes still on the screen where the doctors were arguing over whether or not they could keep the limb, she said, “No one here will want it known how easy the planet could be destroyed. They’ll cover it up with us.”
“The Colarium is going to want his head just as much as those who know about him here do.”
“He wasn’t in his right mind.”
“You want to have him declared insane?” Banks let out a noise of disgust that finally drew her eyes away from the surgery. “We both know he’s fully competent. He’s gullible… and stupid.”
She didn’t argue with him, didn’t scold. Instead, she voiced the on
e thing she hadn’t wanted to accept. “They will kill him. If the people here don’t get to him, the Colarium….”
“We’ll give them back the machine,” Banks said, finally sitting down. “That should make things easier.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t have it.”
She rested her forehead on her fist and stared down at the video on her desk, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the doctor to pull out a saw, for the nurse to reach for the mechanical prosthesis on the cart at the edge of the screen.
It stayed where it was, ignored.
They worked on, leg still attached, held in place by a vice-like structure she knew the name of, but her brain wouldn’t provide.
Her hand slipped and she jerked upright before she face planted.
Banks watched her with a blank face. “What do you need?”
The sight of the tired lines on his face forced her to glance at the clock.
“Coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”
With a curt nod, Banks stepped out. She heard him pass on the request and return.
Six hours and three pots later, Geo was finally off the table.
The doctor stood in her doorway smelling of harsh soap, and Sophia was tired enough she almost didn’t care what he had to say now that her brother was alive and on his way to recovery. The medical readout on her desk told her that much.
“We managed to save the leg. Though, we won’t know the functionality levels until he’s healed up and ready to try walking. You’ll need to get him a physical therapist whatever the case, but there is every likelihood he’ll make a full recovery.” He nodded to her desk. “I’ve sent you the relevant information.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure she was capable of expressing the correct gratitude.
He nodded and said, “You’re not going to do anyone any good if you pass out from exhaustion.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” She motioned for the door and sagged back in relief when he didn’t try to force the issue.
Sophia would sleep when she was certain everything that had to be done would be.
Her stiff fingers tapped out command after command… until she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
“What are you going to do about him?” Banks sat across from her and twisted a cold cup of coffee on his knee.
“You know the old saying… I’ll lie, cheat and steal to keep my baby brother safe. Even from himself.” She smiled though she didn’t feel it. “We need to get him out of here.”
“I’ll have a transport prepped and equipped to handle a post op patient. When do you want him to take off?”
“As soon as he’s cleared by the medical staff.” She pulled up the list of available ships. The names swam before her eyes. “I want the Mother’s Grace ready so all we have to do is roll him from the infirmary straight onto the ship.”
She hoped the name would be fortuitous.
“I’ll have it done.”
“Tell them to set the long course for Horza. They won’t be able to fold with him.”
“Horza? Are you sure?”
“We need him out of the way. There’s no reason to expect anyone would look for him there. And I trust that once I’ve explained everything, Tina will put up with the additional security staff.”
While Banks disappeared, she composed a long communique to Paige, and through her, to Senior Colari Harris. If she got ahead of the news, she might be able to contain the damage.
Might convince them to brush the whole thing under the rug.
Almost as soon as she’d sent the information, her desk flickered with a comm notification. The request had come through on an override code, so she didn’t need the ident tag that hadn’t been provided.
“Paige,” she said as the woman materialized on the screen. “I didn’t realize you could read that quickly.”
“I’m almost done.” Her eyes slid across the screen as though reading Sophia’s face, not the text that wasn’t visible to her. “And you sound like you’re in more trouble than any of us expected.”
“It’s completely manageable trouble. Everything will be dealt with by the end of day tomorrow. On my end at least.”
Nodding, Paige glanced at someone off camera, signing instructions. “We’ll need to meet face to face to discuss where we go from here.”
“Is that your way of getting me into cuffs?” She smiled, hoping it was a joke and not her sleep-deprived brain accepting an uncomfortable truth.
“As far as I can tell from your report, you’ve done nothing wrong… except possibly harboring a fugitive after the fact. But, if you’re truly willing to turn him over to us if requested….”
And if she didn’t, Harris might carry through on the threats leveled by his rival, and seize her assets for the trouble.
“When we meet, we can sort out the specifics of what you need me to do.”
“I’ll send the details for a rendezvous. Meeting on Sukiyaki isn't going to be an option, but there’s plenty of open space around there. “My folder will be ready by mid-day, your time, tomorrow.”
Sophia dipped her head in a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Banks materialized in the dark doorway, hovered. “Don’t trust her.”
“You should know by now, you and the Great Mother are the only ones in the universe I trust.” She finalized the second communique with the requested information and sent it away. “The day I trust our benevolent government is the day you’ll have to lock me away. I’ll be a danger to myself.”
He smiled, and then jerked his head toward the corridor behind him.
“Your brother’s ready for transport.”
Swallowing the lump of ugly bile in her throat, she stood. This might be the last time she saw her brother… and she was desperately thankful he was unconscious.
“Let’s get him on his way.”
“They have a nurse ready to wheel him out and put him on the plane. He’s not lucid, but… do you want them to bring him around? To say goodbye?”
Geo looked like a child, face lax with sleep.
“No, I’ll talk to him when I get to Horza. Even if he won’t remember it, I shouldn't interact with him in this state. For both our sakes.”
She turned to the woman who’s crisply pressed uniform made her feel even more tired. “Get him to Horza as quickly as possible. Make sure the nurse doesn’t let him die… and know that you have my full authority to do whatever you need to do to get him there alive.
“And though I would ask that you don’t sedate him simply because he’s annoying, if it’s necessary, I’ll understand.”
With confirmations that her brother would be handled sufficiently, she stepped away and let the crew do their jobs.
Geo came to as they moved him.
She watched from a distance, his skin was too pale, his eyes unfocused… his loopy grin reminded her of the time their father had accidentally knocked him through a window, and Geo couldn’t remember his own name for three weeks.
Assured that he was on the ship—watching the hatch close—she made her way to the observation platform.
Sophia watched the shimmering burn of the ship’s engines as it sped toward the atmosphere and knew the pilot and crew would follow her instructions to the letter.
There were employees she needed to cull after this incident, but the women on that ship weren’t among them.
When the ship punched through the thermosphere and disappeared into the darkness beyond her visual range, she turned back to the compound with a sigh that seemed to leach all the energy from her body.
The deep green circle surrounding her tower, the fields were slowly transforming the world they needed more than any other.
The world her brother had almost destroyed.
“Have they collapsed the tunnel?” She asked as they went back to her office.
She should have asked hours ago.
The last thing she needed was a hoard of vengeful to
wnsfolk making their way into the compound and trying to hunt down a man who was no longer on planet.
Or worse, having Putty hunt her down.
That was a fight she didn’t want to have. Now, or ever.
“The one we know about has been pulled down, yes.” Banks called up the subterranean levels on her screen and spun them around, pointing to the bright red square that had once been a tunnel entrance. “We collapsed it at the halfway point and then detonated all the way back. I have crews prepping dozers to head out and compact the surface so none of the kids hit a soft patch and hurt themselves.”
The ravine was fine. Ravines could be filled in later without worrying about who was sneaking in. “We’ll coordinate with Henri and the captains when it comes to the cavern.”
It didn’t matter that it was techechnically on her land.
“I have three crews clearing all the levels, looking for anything not on the schematics. Anything the Lazarai might have left behind.”
Like more bombs.
She couldn’t discount the possibility they would attempt a retaliation for Geo’s failure.
A quick tally reminded her that of the ten thousand people housed within the terrafarm’s borders, there were one hundred and forty children on site.
He waved to the map between them as it slowly turned green.
His crews were clearing the tunnels in sections. Efficient as she expected.
“We need to get everything in order for a full Colarium audit. I don’t want any cobwebs waiting to be found by their sweep.” She hadn’t been lying when she said she only trusted him.
“And about the miners?”
“Keep the gates closed, reschedule our deliveries for direct drop. Offer the employees fair access to our receiving dock. We’ll weather whatever storm is headed our way. The planet is more important than any grudge they might have.”
“What about the workers who want to go into the Redlands at their own risk?”
Their domes and the facilities therein might have all the amenities of a city, but there were friendships that crossed the expanse between the farm and town, possibly even families.
“We need stricter security. Anyone can leave, but they need to have full ID to get back in.”