by Tracy Korn
I start laughing, but not because anything is particularly funny. I feel hysterical, and my hands won't stop shaking…is this adrenaline? Shock from the saloon fight, or something else? I think.
Are you all right? I hear Lyden in my mind and turn to him.
"Now what, then?" I say entirely too loud and entirely too fast.
"OK…right now, you get moving before you redline," Lyden answers, scanning my face. "Remember, there are no established thresholds in here. It's like the alpha channels, except instead of just setting the baselines for fear or anger at one time, we have all the emotions at once on the Platform level. No filter—hey…" he says again, this time waving his hand in front of my face.
"I'm all right, just…jumpy, like I had too much caffeine or something," I answer, but I can't keep my eyes fixed on him for more than a few seconds. I turn to Arco, whose eyebrows are drawn together as he looks right back at me—studying me.
"What's happening? What's redlining?" he asks Lyden without looking away.
"She transferred the patch. It can wreck your nervous system for a few minutes because layers of code are stripped from your DNA and loaded onto the Glyph. She's just adjusting," Lyden answers. Myra shakes her head.
"No one said that would happen…no one said our nervous systems would get wrecked," she says.
"It's not permanently wrecked, and it might not even happen, but if it does, it's just like a caffeine buzz, see?" Lyden answers, nodding to me, but Myra's fear has already bloomed, and I can feel it spreading to everyone like water spilled on the floor.
"I'm fine," I say, trying hard to keep my voice calm and evenly paced, but it's starting to feel like there are ants crawling under my skin.
"It's normal, and it will pass soon enough. It helps to keep moving," Lyden says, looking over his shoulder, then out at the wide, desert horizon.
"Where are we supposed to go now? Don't we need to reset or some—" I start, but then everything and everyone freezes. The words stop in my throat. I can't move. I can't even blink. In a few seconds, everything starts to fade to white until it's blinding, just like when we port-carnate transferred. I try to close my eyes against the glare, but they won't shut. Needle fine pain drills into my eyes and pushes through the back of my skull until I don't think I can take it anymore, and then finally, I close my eyes.
When I open them again, Calyx comes into view—first her almost white hair with dark, erratic streaks, then the sliver cuff ring through the center of her bottom lip, and finally her huge, water blue eyes and cat-like, angular face.
"You did it, Jazwyn," she says, but she sounds miles away. "The first Glyph is patched. Three more to go," she adds, and my stomach churns.
"You can…see us…in there?" Myra asks, mumbling her words.
"Only if we access your channels to read your baselines," Arwyn answers. "Then we can see what you see and measure your emotional thresholds against it."
Like when you were dying, Vox thinks, abruptly, and I feel a jolt of panic as the memory of the tunnel shark attack in the Rush comes flooding back.
"Whoa. Check her cortisol," Liam says to someone, then crosses behind me in a whir. "Never mind, I'll do it."
"A little reckless," Tark says as he walks over to Vox, then turns to face the rest of us. "But you got it done." His giant white smile is bright in contrast against his dark skin.
"Ready to go back in?" Eco asks from somewhere, and I try again to sit up so I can see him. My head pounds with the sudden shift, so I quickly lie back in the chair.
"Jazz should stay here," Arco says from the seat next to mine, and now I force myself to sit up.
"I'm not staying here. I'm fine," I say, willing the ants under my skin to stop crawling. To my surprise, they do. A little.
"You're wrecked, and you know it. We can handle the next Glyph. Get your bearings back, and then—" Arco starts, but I cut him off before I realize I'm even talking.
"I have enough of them. I'll find the rest," I say, but the words feel foreign. What does that even mean? I'll find the rest of my…bearings? Frustration and anger pulse just under my skin and chase off the ants, but at least the world starts to slow down again. Whatever just happened to me must be wearing off.
"Cortisol is back in range—she's fine," Liam says. I see him just over my shoulder, his sharp profile and blond hair with dark roots making my mind register him as Liddick for a second, and my whole body floods with relief until reality crashes in.
"What's the next cine?" I ask, turning from Arco to Eco.
"Wait, this one?" Eco asks after a second, shoving his clear tablet at Calyx. She glances at it and nods without changing her neutral expression.
"What's the problem?" Ellis crosses to Eco and looks at the tablet. His face falls as he meets my eyes.
"What?" I ask impatiently, and the knots in my stomach start to tighten.
"Blackwater," Ellis says in a low, quiet voice. Myra immediately sucks in a sharp breath.
"Pirates…"
***
"Do I look like I care about pirates? Crite, if giant mosquitoes, pincer lion whatever bugs, and the bloated whale I just arm wrestled didn't—" Vox starts, but Tark holds up a big hand and stops her words in the air.
"That's fine, Ms. Dyer. This is just for precaution. Now, please sit back and close your eyes."
Vox blows out a big breath and lies back on the table in the med bay they've escorted us to, but it's more like a concrete bunker with happened upon medical equipment than an actual med bay. The gurney looks like it's made of iron. The rounded edges of the gurney have a green patina, and there is no padding—just a moulded, semi-formed iron chair that looks like someone took both ends and stretched it into a makeshift bed.
"You feel OK?" Jax whispers through a mouthful of the protein bar they gave us.
"I'm fine. None of this is necessary," I answer, but even as I do I can feel the anxiety tightening the back of my throat. I just don't feel totally…here.
Maybe you're not, Lyden says in my mind. I close my eyes, still not used to the random trespass through my thoughts, just like Liddick used to do. Now, my chest constricts, too, at the memory.
What are you talking about? I think.
I've been picking up the irregularity too…it's like a sound on the wind that you can't quite make out, but can still hear.
What is it? I ask. Where is it coming from?
I think it could be Liddick, Lyden answers, and immediately, I know it's the right answer.
I've been having these random thoughts, saying these things that aren't really my words. Vox used to push me to feel and say things, but it's not quite like that, I say. Lyden nods from across the room, but can't say anything else before Tark startles us both.
"Ms. Ripley!" he calls out too loudly. I turn quickly to him as he extends a hand to the table Vox has vacated at his side, the green patina shimmering. "If you don't mind?"
"Sorry," I say, then clear my throat as I climb onto the iron table and lie back. It's actually very comfortable, which I didn't expect.
"Please close your eyes—this won't take long. We just need to make sure all your wires are still attached," Tark says. I look straight at him, and he quirks a heavy black eyebrow. "Figuratively, Ms. Ripley. Figuratively."
I immediately feel stupid, but push this feeling out with a long exhale. I close my eyes and try to pretend I'm hitting a giant pause button on my life—like for the next five minutes, the whole world is going to stop and wait for me.
A low grade buzz starts in the back of my head, just like the buzz I started hearing when Vox was trying to contact me after she found her way to the Vishan tunnels…just like the buzz I heard the closer we got to her in the Rush.
Been awhile, man. Thought you forgot about us here in the skids…the voice in my head trails off, but not before I see a flash of a man in a dirty white, knit shirt. His hair is dark and pulled into a ponytail, and there's a white scar line peeking out from the bottom of an eyepatch. He's older t
han I am, but not as old as my father…maybe around 25. I gasp, opening my eyes and pulling myself up by gripping the arms of the gurney table.
"What happened?" Arco asks, moving quickly to my side, then turning back to Tark, Calyx, and Eco. Liam holds up a floating screen with green lines and scrolling data columns.
"Her channel…there's a bridge in it for some reason—I can't close it," Liam answers, squinting as he scans the scrolling text.
"Did you see anything just now, Jazwyn? Hear anything?" Arwyn asks, reading the same text next to Liam.
"Um…I heard a man saying it's been awhile, and he thought I forgot about them. I don't know who them is, though," I say as the blood starts pounding behind my ears. I'm suddenly dizzy, so I lie back on the iron gurney.
"Do you know who it was?" Arco asks, moving his hand to my shoulder. I shake my head, which is starting to feel like it's full of water.
"Did you see something too, Jazz? What was it?" Arwyn asks in a voice that seems very far away.
"A man with an eyepatch. He had a dark ponytail…it was night," I say, closing my eyes again. "He had a scar on his face under the patch. I felt like he knew me…like I knew him."
"Time stamp on the bridge?" Tark asks.
"It's new," Liam answers. "Within the last 36 hours."
"What bridge? Someone needs to start talking," Arco says, the edge in his voice making me open my eyes again.
"It's all right," Lyden says, his calm voice bringing the tension down a level. "It's nothing that will hurt her—she's just open to more input. Channels are like rooms in our brains, right? Hers just has more doors now than some of the rest of ours."
"What put them there?" Jax asks, narrowing his eyes at Lyden.
No one answers at first, but then Calyx exchanges a glance with Tark, who eventually shrugs.
"Tell them," he says, gesturing to us.
"There was only a small chance this would happen, so we decided not to say anything unless we had to," Calyx starts. "There's no physical danger, first of all…"
"But?" Arco presses.
"But…there's the chance of blurring boundaries and getting lost—of not being able to tell the difference between what's actual, and what's happening in the neural channel…so, in the cines, or if you're connected to someone else's channel via a bridge like you just experienced, Jazz."
"So you're saying there's a chance she could lose touch with her own reality?" Avis asks, his eyes wide.
"It wouldn't be permanent. We'd never let it go that far," Eco says.
"Whoa, wait…" I say, shaking my head. "So someone is linked into my brain…my channel or whatever? Like when Vox and I connected when she had the Vishan NET device? Cal has that now…is it Cal who is linked in?"
"A NET device? A Neural Enhancement Tuner?" Calyx asks. "Did it look like this?" She pulls up a picture of a long, slim, brushed metal bar that forks out into two parallel bars on one end. The picture looks like a letter Y that has been smashed.
"That's it exactly," I say, nodding.
"That's the last handheld version. We haven't used that model for generations…they're micro now and built into the biochips, just like the ones you all just swallowed."
"If they have biochips, and one of their friends at Phase Two has a NET…" Eco starts, and Liam nods.
"That would be both ends of the bridge."
"So Cal tapped into my channel? I didn't have a biochip, or another NET with Vox, though, and I got into her channel somehow," I say, the heaviness in my head finally clearing.
"Because you were already connected to her," Arco says after a beat. "Just like you're connected to Liddick."
CHAPTER 25
The Badlands
Liddick
It feels like I've been gone years instead of months, and I don't remember people looking this old—even the people my age look 10, 15 years older…tired, like they've been carrying around something heavy for too long. And I guess they have.
I hear chatter and the sound of machinery from Tinkerer Square, which is around the corner. The dirty brick buildings seem to groan in the hard gust of air, which whips between them, cold and irritated, like it's in a hurry to get somewhere. In the distance, patches of sand bleed through the crumbling pavement, which is waiting to grab your foot and send you face first into the broken ground. I shove my hands into my pockets and raise my shoulders against the wind, but I won't look down. You can't take your eyes off the world here.
"Well….look who's back from the dead," a man's voice says to me as I round the corner. I stop in my tracks and turn to him.
"Eddie…" I force a casual laugh, surprised to see literally the last person in the Badlands I'd want to see. "How have you been?" I ask, though I don't really care. He scratches the white scar line underneath his eyepatch and nods, making his greasy black ponytail sway behind his head.
"I can always complain," he answers, smacking his teeth against his lips, making that suction sound he knows I can't stand. I try to keep the disgust off my face.
"Listen, have you seen a blonde girl around here in the last hour? GE eyes—wild ice blue?" I ask, but he just looks at me like I'm stupid, then laughs.
"Now why would anyone with wild ice blue GE eyes wander down here all the way from the hill?" he asks, narrowing his good eye at me and raising his chin.
"I didn't say she was from the hill."
"Didn't have to. Guess it's been awhile, man. Thought you forgot about us here in the skids."
"Yeah, I've been…away. So you haven't seen her then?"
"Naw, man. But I'll keep an eye out." Eddie points to his one good eye and smirks, then claps his teeth together like Azeris did when he wanted to put Tieg in his place back at the Gaia Sur port-call hub. "You in the market for …anything?"
"Not tonight, Eddie. But I know where to go if I am," I answer, nodding to him.
"Bet you do. Bet you do…"
"If you see my friend—and she is my friend—cover her up, her hair, all right? Keep her out of traffic."
"You know I've got you," Eddie says, offering me a dirty hand, which is shaking more than ever. I take it and hold it in place.
"Thought you were quitting Extract," I say, lowering my voice.
"I did!" I give him a deadpan look. "All right, all right…" he tries to laugh. "I'm in a ten-step program; maybe I'm just on step one," he laughs again and sniffs.
"Grisham still running things?"
Eddie nods and sniffs again, then wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
"Naw. Grisham…stepped down. It's Tariff's neighborhood now."
"Tarriff? Who let that happen?" I almost yell, but catch my voice just in time.
"Business, you know? He had the credits, the pull with the State. Riot drones are even programed to cruise right by him now. He's a ghost."
I press my lips together as words come flying up and crash into the back of my teeth. At least Grisham wasn't just in the tech racket for himself. At least he took care of people here.
"Where's Grisham now?" I ask.
"Around…"
"Where is he? I don't have a lot of time."
"Zone, Cred-Fed…"
"Call me that again."
Eddie makes a low whistle and laughs, slaps me on the arm a few times, then nearly falls into me, the nauseatingly sweet smell of rotten oranges closing down my lungs.
"Zone…zone…"
"Man, you reek of Extract. Patrol droids are going to smell you any minute," I say, unhinging his fingers from what's left of my dive suit. He just laughs. "Remember what I said about the blonde girl. Cover her up, then take her to Azeris. He'll keep her safe until I get back," I add, then start to walk away.
"Hey!" Eddie calls after me. "You want to catch up with Grisham…go to the Southside. Circuit Street—look for the hole in the sky."
"The wh—?" I start, but Eddie has already been swept up in a group of laughing people coming out of the alley behind him. I take a deep breath and swallow my question, but I
have to force it down. This place has gone to hell, and it was already hell.
Tinkerer Square smells like dirt and oil mixed with the normal sulphur smell of the air, which is concentrated here. At least in Seaboard North, the breeze coming off the ocean diluted it a little. My chest starts to tighten like it always does when I come to the Badlands, and I can't help but feel like this place is trying to get inside me. I need to find Grisham—Azeris's old partner—and get him to scan the blocks to find Dez. There's no way I can cover them all before dawn. I need to tell him what's happening with Gaia Sur too…that everything we suspected was true.
Tinkerer Square isn't as busy as it is during the day, but it's never deserted. People work around the clock in the Badlands. I keep my chin up and narrow my eyes, scanning for faces I recognize. A sweaty older man fires a blowtorch to life as I pass, and it's all I can do not to jump at the sudden flash of light and heat just a few feet away from me. How did I get this soft in just a few months, and after everything we've been through? The Badlands are nothing compared to the biomes.
"Liddick Wright…can it even be?" a female voice says from somewhere in the swath of Tinkerer bays. I look around for a face to match it. Then I see her. Hell…
"Hi, Farah," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Listen, I…"
"I don't care where you've been," she says, dropping the wrench she's gripping into her pants pocket, then pulling her long, dark hair off her neck and tying it in a knot behind her head. Her denim shirt is tied around her ribs, and it makes me think of Calliope back in the Vishan Tunnels. I bet Farah knew her. "What brings you back?"
"A friend of mine wandered in—probably lost. It's no place for her," I say, and wait for the icepick stare to hit me between the eyes.
"Her?" Farah smiles to one side and raises an inky black eyebrow at me. She takes the wrench from her pocket. Here we go.
"It's not like that," I say. "She's got some problems…in her head, you know? I'm just looking out for her."
Farah nods and blinks her huge brown eyes at me. They're the same color as Jazz's, and I feel a stab through the center of my chest at the thought of it. She pulls at the collar of my wrecked dive suit.