Still, a person could have gone years without leaving the underground networks if not for the rigid security at every checkpoint and the roaming guards, usually Enforcers-in-training who had yet to prove their worth and whose goal was earning credibility by maintaining the strictest order. They were notorious for their harsh treatment of Thirds and diligence in combing the extensive travel network for security threats and Illegals. Even if Draven could have secreted Cali in somehow, within minutes someone would accost him, demanding papers of every conceivable sort. Long ago, Illegals had ceased any attempt at nesting in the underground networks, favoring the unkempt outskirts of cities where they rarely encountered Enforcers and had ample escape routes. With its reputation for cleanliness bordering on sterility, military order and hostility to Thirds, use of the underground networks had fallen mostly to Seconds. Thirds too impoverished or unfortunate to maintain a vehicle—but still in good standing with the system—also used the network, most confining their activity to tense rides on the heavily patrolled trains.
Draven watched a mob of people flood from an outlet hub surrounded by four factories. Thirds, unable to use the roads until cleared, were forced to use the underground trains for this evening’s commute. He wondered how many had been intercepted by Enforcers before passing the security checks required to both enter and exit the underground. Draven slipped behind a building and moved on, not wanting the crowd to notice him standing apart with no intention of joining their work crews.
By dawn, he had found no desirable living situation, but he kept his word and returned to collapse the tent and bring Cali to their new home. His jaw set in grim determination, he asked for Cali’s warmth, ignoring her sounds of discomfort and consternation as he opened her jumpsuit and slid his hands, so frigid they had stiffened into claws, against her bare, warm belly. When he had regained mobility in his hands, he made the descent, scrambling for traction in his wet boots. On his first trip down, he tore open his glove, and the finger within, on the stiff edge of a sheet of paneling. He managed to retrieve Cali and the remainder of their things without further mishap, and could only hope snow or rain would erase the blood he’d left smeared on the building.
At street level, he sat sucking his finger until the skin formed a tentative seal over the wound. Ignoring the continuing pain, he hoisted Cali and the backpacks and set off, squinting even through his sunshades at the blinding landscape blazing before them in the morning sunlight. Weaving through deserted back alleys in the seam circling the sectors, he skirted the city, passing through only the service sector to avoid the area where the combination of neon light and artificial dark signaled the inevitable presence of daycrawlers and drifters.
Late that morning, another snowstorm hit, replacing the searing light with a deluge of snow intent on obscuring every sector of the city cleared the previous night. Weighed down by Cali and all their gear, and slowed by the wearying task of plowing through snow that lay a meter high and obscured any obstacle underfoot, it took Draven most of the day to make his way to the shamefully inadequate refuge he had resorted to for their next residence.
When at last they reached the eastern edge of the city, an older section of the transfiguration sector with run-down buildings scattered some distance apart, Draven set Cali down to rest. She had fallen silent midway through the day, much to the relief of Draven’s hammering head. Any sound beyond his feet packing the powdery snow was nearly unbearable. The target camping spot hadn’t seemed far when he’d come in the night, but the daylight headache, and its accompanying weakness, only added to the exhaustion brought on by lack of adequate nourishment and sleep.
Perhaps he had missed the spot. The blowing snow provided little visibility, and even the heavy cloud cover could not dispel his disorientation. He considered retracing his steps, but knew the snow had already erased them. It blew so thick he could only just see Cali, who sat hunched beside him, bundled in his foil-laced jacket and all the clothing she could fit under it.
“Are we lost?” she asked.
“No.”
“Well, then can I ask where we’re going?”
“No.”
He stood and retrieved the bags and Cali and set off again. Evening had fallen, but his weakness and headache lingered. His self-heating gloves had long ago lost all heat, although Cali’s warmth provided enough heat to prevent him from freezing. Still, a layer of snow began to collect on him within minutes of starting out again, and he could only see a meter in front of him as he walked. Just as he had decided to give up and make camp, they came to a high chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Draven let out a breath of relief. Although the tent would have prevented them from freezing, he did not want to wake just as a snowplow bore down on them, only to find they’d camped in the middle of a street.
“Another car lot?” Cali asked. She shifted on his back and switched on her flashlight. The beam cut through the dark, highlighting the streaks of snow that aimed missile-like towards the earth.
“An endlot,” Draven corrected, although she could not have known from the vague heaps of snow visible behind the fence.
“What’s the difference?”
“Cars are reclaimed and the parts reused. Nothing here is of use to anyone. No one will take anything from here. This is where things go when they have been scanned and stripped and every usable part repurposed.” Though Draven had climbed the fence earlier, now he freed a section of torn wire and held it aside while Cali waded through the snow and entered their new home. He glanced at her, waiting for her to make an accusation or at least ask incredulously if he thought she deserved nothing better. But she only shone the light about, squinting into the snow at the irregular shapes uniformly blanketed under a glittering white shroud.
Draven led her around the heap to a spot where, on a clear night, they would see only the tallest buildings glittering in the distance. There, he erected the tent.
“What are we going to do here?” Cali asked. “Can we stay? Like in the car where you stayed in Princeton?”
“Perhaps we can find things to build a shelter,” he said after a pause. Her eager acceptance of the place as a suitable home shamed him more than a scornful remark on his inadequacy would have. Build a shelter? They had camped among piles of trash, trash that had already been scoured several times over and deemed unfit for any use. She’d given up an apartment with her own garden and heating and a shower to live in a dump.
Inside the tent, they shook the last flakes of snow from their clothing and crawled into their sleep sacks. Draven turned on his side and watched Cali shivering. The snow fell, scraping the walls of the tent like claws as it shivered down the sides of the thin fabric.
“If I had some way to warm you…” he said. “If I had warmth to give to you I would, even if I had none left for myself.”
“Thanks,” Cali said through chattering teeth. “That’s really nice.”
A nice thought, perhaps, but not one that could bring comfort. During the day, he could perhaps build a small fire without drawing attention. But all the nights of winter stretched before them, long and bitterly cold. Away from the heat of the roof and the steam, he did not know how many more she could survive.
“Cali…” he said, after thinking it over for a bit. “Though you’ve said you’d not like to, perhaps you’d do well to return to Princeton.”
“I’m not going back unless you are. I knew how it was going to be the last time you asked.”
“Yes, but if you were to die because of me…”
“I’m fine, really.”
“No,” he said. “No, you’d be better off with Byron. I can’t imagine what I was thinking. I’ve never owned a sapien under normal circumstances. Even that might be difficult for me. This is simply too dangerous. If you die, I do not wish to be the reason.”
“Good, because you won’t be. Unless you send me back and he kills me. Then you’d be the reason.”
“I could take you to a Confinement tomorrow. You were happy there.�
��
“I’m not brainless, you know,” she said, leaning up on one elbow to face him. “They’ll send me back to Princeton, to him. You told me so yourself.”
“Eventually,” Draven admitted. “But perhaps he will be happy to have you back, not angry at you. Tell him I captured you, forced you against your will. I’m a criminal. They will believe you. Is it not the truth?”
“You asked me when I was ready, and I told you when I was.”
“Perhaps. But you would not have come, knowing it would come to this. I took advantage of your fear and naivety when that breeder came to call upon you.”
Cali narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t want me, just say so. Don’t pretend it’s for my own good. Just tell me it’s too hard to take care of me and you’d rather lose the burden.”
“Very well. That is what I’ll tell you. I did not know the responsibility involved in caring for a human. In my current situation—not having a home and being hunted and my mental state—it’s more than I can manage. And certainly too much to subject a human to.”
“So you don’t want me anymore.”
“Of course I want you… only it’s too complicated just now.”
“Then I wish you’d never taken me. Now I’ve had some freedom and I’ve learned some things, and I won’t be happy back in my little garden.” She lay back and switched off the flashlight, and neither spoke further.
She had worded it so precisely. Though she still seemed unbearably naïve to him, she had more knowledge than would fit into a tidy human existence. If she went back, she would no longer be content with one. Her knowledge of the Superior world, her experiences, and her small taste of freedom had changed her. She could return to her home, but she could no more return to her old life than he could see her as he’d seen saps before Sally showed him that they were more than animals.
Too exhausted to start a conversation, he fell into sleep with the thought in his mind, imagining he’d mention the parallel to her in the evening. But when he awoke, Cali was gone.
Chapter 41
Byron knew he shouldn’t go. Milton had forbidden him to go. But he had to see. He knew it would only put him in a worse mood, sitting back and letting that little brat toy with him, unable to do a souldamned thing about it. But he was in a sour mood, one where he relished picking at the wounds in his ego.
As soon as he could get away, he went straight to Meyer Kidd’s seasonal apartment, the one he had visited the past two winters with no results—at least not ones relating to the case. Byron approached Meyer’s door and made himself known. Of course, Meyer expected him. Probably had it on his inside source that Byron wasn’t supposed to be there. Maybe he would blackmail Byron with the knowledge, or more likely, tattle-tale. Wasn’t that what snot-nosed kids did when they didn’t get their way?
Meyer opened the door in the same kind of get-up he’d worn every time Byron had seen him in person—dress pants, button shirt, shiny shoes, hair slicked back and shiny with some kind of polish.
“Well, hello there, Enforcer,” he said, opening the door wide. “What a pleasure. I hope you are well. Come in, come in.” Meyer gestured grandly, almost bowing, and Byron entered an apartment very much like his own. Meyer knew the layout. He could have found a glitch in the security system and gotten saps out. Probably created the glitch himself, the smug little bastard. And he knew how to break into the garden, no doubt, so he’d probably shared confidential information and let his Third bitch do his dirty work.
Byron followed the boy back to the living area. Couch, chair, glass coffee table, television in the wall. Sparsely furnished and devoid of decorations, just as he kept it every winter.
“I always have the urge to ask you to go get your parents when you open the door,” Byron said, glancing around the room absently.
“I can see you’re one to underestimate others,” Meyer said. “But we’re only superior to other species, Enforcer. Not each other.”
“Tell that to a First.”
Meyer laughed and sank to the edge of the chair, his body never losing its military stiffness. “Have a seat,” he said. “I always fancy the chance to catch up with old friends.”
Old friends, my ass, Byron thought. He sat and leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Me, too.”
“Would you care for a beverage? I seem to remember you like cold drinks, but unfortunately, I’ve not got any on hand. I brought up quite a collection of saps, though. I’m sure you’d find one to your liking.”
Byron struggled to maintain control. For some reason, this kid could always irk him like no one else. “Thank you,” he said, trying to focus on Meyer’s hospitality instead of the certainty that the kid was taunting him.
Meyer turned and called down the hall, “Fetch me the saps.” A minute later, a man ushered four saps into the room, all of them blinking and sleepy-eyed.
“That’s a lot of saps for a few months’ stay,” Byron said. “Planning to ‘lose’ some again this year?”
Meyer laughed and gave a dismissive wave that reminded Byron of one of his wife’s gestures. This only irritated him further. “Not this year, Enforcer,” Meyer said. “But I didn’t want to split up the family for so long, with the new baby and all. You know what I always say about a happy sap.”
“That I do,” Byron said, ignoring the perfect picture this family made. The picture his own saps had failed to duplicate. He couldn’t help but suspect that Meyer was being a smug little shitstain because he had Byron’s sapien hidden away somewhere.
“Your choice,” Meyer said, gesturing to the array of saps in front of them. “You’re my guest. Do you prefer female or male? Or perhaps a sapling, even a baby? I have heard you’re quite fond of babies.”
“The mature female is fine,” Byron said. With downcast eyes, she approached and sat on the couch beside him—disgusting, the way some people let their saps behave—and offered her arm. Though she showed her training and did not look at him directly, Byron would never have allowed a sap to sit beside him in his own home, nor would he allow them to smear his furniture with their stench. Meyer had no such reservations. While Byron drew, Meyer pulled the sapling onto his lap. Byron fought the urge to regurgitate the sap he’d drunk. To touch one of them that way...
He broke off after a ration and pushed the arm away. “You are excused,” he said.
“Oh, do let her stay,” Meyer said, smiling. His teeth were tinged with red. “I like to conversate and just have a sip now and then, don’t you? It’s quite pleasing. Here, pull her up on your lap like so.”
“No thank you, I ate before I came.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Meyer said, cradling his sapling in his arms. “They’re just like a heated blanket that never gets cold.”
“I’m warm, thank you,” Byron said, refusing to let the kid bait him. “You may leave,” he said to the sap. She stood, and Meyer waved a hand dismissing the three saps back to their quarters.
“Tell me, Enforcer, how have you been? I’m pleased as punch that you popped by.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything. We’re collecting information on the case, as you know, and it’s going very well. Soon we’ll start making arrests.”
Meyer raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s so.”
“So you’ve figured it all out. That’s fantastic news. I cannot wait to get my Herman back.”
“And your Tom?”
Meyer’s eyes widened in feigned surprise. “You mean he’s still alive?”
Byron fought the urge to snarl at the obvious phoniness of Meyer’s reply. “We’re still identifying the dead from the living.”
“What a relief that you’ve closed the case. I suppose now I won’t have the pleasure of having a posse of Enforcers trailing me everywhere I go. It’s really too bad, too. It made me feel right important. Almost like a First, with all those bodyguards.”
“Don’t be too disappointed,” Byron said. “I�
�m sure we can spare an Enforcer or two to keep eyes on you.”
“You can’t still think I’m involved.”
“You can play that innocent act all you like. We both know it’s an act.”
“And what basis for suspicion do you have, Enforcer? If I may ask.”
“You may not, actually.”
“Ah, so you just don’t fancy me. That’s top. I’ve plenty of friends elsewhere.”
“As they say, money makes friends.”
“They do say that,” Meyer said. “Money makes most everything. You know there’s an old human saying, ‘money can’t buy you love.’ Or is it happiness? I can’t remember. It’s no wonder that saying has disappeared with their leadership, though. Money can buy anything you want it to. Just because money bought love doesn’t make it any less real. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Most human expressions are garbage.”
“Yes, as brainless as they are. Right, Magpie?” Meyer said to the dozing sapien in his lap. He stopped to draw on her wrist for a minute. “So, your case goes well,” he said, when he’d finished sipping. “How is your own family of saps coming along? Got little sap babies screaming all hours of the day?”
“Not yet,” Byron said, stiffening. “How is your flock?”
“Oh, you know how it goes. I really tire of them so quickly. It’s right nice getting new ones whenever I please. I do so miss the ones I’ve lost, though.” Meyer cleaned a drop of sap from the sapling’s arm before asking, “How’s your little runaway?”
The Renegades (The Superiors) Page 28