Charon frowns. “We brought water and sterilization units with us, but I thought…” They’d find an uncontaminated water source and live happily ever after.
A joyous whoop reaches us through the walls, followed by a muffled sound almost like a slap. “Wait. You hear that?” The same sound, but this time I hear it for what it is: water splashing, slapping against skin. In the heat of the afternoon, that lake would be awfully tempting. “You don’t think–”
“Shit!” Charon runs to the door, Rik on his heels.
The three of us retrace our steps at a hard trot.
“I thought you warned everyone about the water out here,” Rik says.
Charon grimaces. “About drinking it, yeah. I didn’t realize they’d be so foolish as to get in it.”
The rest of our party has set up camp along the lake’s shoreline. Some people lie out on blankets, faces to the sun. A few flirt with the water’s edge, their pants pushed up to their knees, frolicking in the shallows. Two others are farther out, swimming in their underwear.
Randall swears as Charon flags down Denita standing at the shore, chatting with another person. “Get out of the water!” Charon shouts. “Get out this instant. We have no idea if it’s safe.”
With a confused look on her face, Denita relays Charon’s words to the others and waves everyone back to land. They groan and grumble but do as they’re told. I almost don’t blame them. With the sun’s warmth like a soothing hand on your shoulder, it’s too beautiful here for something to be wrong with the crystalline water.
“No one sets foot on this shore again, we clear?” Charon demands. People reluctantly gather up their stuff and move to an area further inland. Charon swings back to the lake and kicks a rock into the water. It disappears into the depths.
“You see what’s happening here, don’t you?” I say. “Vesa’s not the exciting new initiative it’s made out to be. At best it’s some sort of labor camp. At worst, it’s a one-way trip into the wilderness. What do you want to bet someone figured that out and manipulated the lottery to send people from the Terrestrial District here? Those changes to the registry could’ve been a part of that plan.” Charon doesn’t turn around, but the angle of his head tells me he’s listening. “They may not all be your followers, but you can’t deny whoever did this is targeting the Disconnects who live in the Bower.”
“It’s a win-win situation,” Rik says. “If the lottery results stand, they silence a large number of opponents. If not, they use the hack against you, further damaging any credibility the Disconnects still have.”
“They’re already doing that,” Charon says tonelessly.
“We have to go back,” I say. “The people of New Worth deserve to know the truth about Vesa, the lottery, everything.”
He shakes his head. “No. We keep moving. Start over.” He finally faces us. “We can rejoin the others by nightfall–”
A woman’s scream bounces across the lake. Charon’s already in motion, moving up the hill. Rik and I follow him to a woman nearly beside herself at the bloody welts crawling up and down her legs. She was one of the people wading in the shallows.
Charon gathers everyone who was in the water together. Some have the same oozing welts, though not as pronounced. “Did any of you drink the water?” He eyes the two young men who were swimming.
The shorter one cringes under Charon’s stare. “Maybe a little.” He elbows his companion in the side. “Holton dunked me.”
“How do you feel?” Charon asks.
The guy quails a bit at all the attention. “I don’t know, OK? It seemed fine at the time.”
After a whispered conversation with Denita, Charon turns back to us. “You lead us back to the others,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You saw that woman’s leg,” Rik protests. “We need–”
Charon holds up a hand, and Rik falls silent. “Right now, we need to march.”
We do as he says, though the woman, Rosa, needs to be carried toward the end. When we finally reach the other camp, the evening meal’s underway. A handful of tents have been cordoned off in the time we’ve been gone. Quarantine. That can’t be good.
Charon waves Randall over after a whispered conversation with one of his lieutenants left in charge of camp. “Says a group of people got sick after digging a trench for the latrines.”
Randall’s already shaking his head. “No, no, no. I told them to make composting toilets from our supplies. If they dug past the new soil layer, they could’ve disturbed whatever nasty chemicals were left behind out here.”
“That explains why everyone got sick,” I say. “Who knows what they were breathing in.”
Tension fills Randall’s frame. “They’ve put everyone here at risk.”
Charon waves him off. “Doesn’t matter. We’re moving camp in the morning anyway.”
“That’s not enough,” Rik says, a new layer of steel to his voice. “Your people have no idea what they’re in for. It’s irresponsible to–”
Shouts go up. Charon shoulders past us, joining a knot of followers that have converged on Holton. “He’s convulsing,” someone says. Rik and I watch on as they work to stabilize him with whatever medical supplies they’ve brought along, but he soon falls unconscious. Charon leaves orders to be notified if Holton’s condition changes, then retreats to his tent. One of his lieutenants tries to tempt the onlookers with the prospect of dinner, but no one’s hungry. How can they be?
I clench my fists. “This has to stop.” I cast about camp. “I need a touchscreen.”
With everyone distracted by Holton, pretending to eat dinner, or sick in their tents, I find a screen in someone’s unattended bag. Rik blocks me from view as I hide it underneath my shirt. We get our own tent assembled, and once I’m safely inside I waste no time connecting the datastick Randall swiped to the touchscreen. I pull the list of names from the lottery and compare them against the patch’s record set, as though this is just another exercise from one of my data curation classes. Not only are they all a match, but that mystery field that Charon and the others flagged shows the same code for each record that ended up being selected in the lottery.
“So someone deliberately inserted that data field to skew the results,” Randall says over my shoulder. “If it wasn’t the Department of Economic Development, then at least they wanted the corruptions to stand long enough for the lottery drawing.” Otherwise why would they bother chasing me away from the real drop?
I lean back against him, for a moment letting his strength fortify my own. “Not only did they take their land, but they ensured no one would find out about it, assuming that the people who were selected for Vesa wouldn’t notice before they left the dome.”
“And by then it’d be too late.”
“We can’t sit on this any longer.”
“I know.”
“I have to find a way to tell everyone…”
“We will.” He takes a deep breath. “Charon’s not an idiot. Maybe in a few days–”
“No. No longer.” I’m tired of running away, skulking in shadows, turning my back on others. We can’t turn away from this. “We have to talk to him now. Come on.”
Heedless of everyone else at camp, I stalk towards Charon’s tent, Rik at my side.
Denita steps in front of me, blocking my way forward. “He’s not to be disturbed.”
“Bullshit. You already know what we have to do,” I say, pitching my voice toward the tent. “We have to go back.”
Moments later, Charon throws open the flap of canvas and scowls at me. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why? I think everyone’s already figured out we’re screwed. Or at the very least far less prepared than they thought they’d be.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“You know we’re right,” Rik says softly. “If we go back now, we can get your people the medical attention they need. If not that, at least let us return to warn the others about Vesa.”
I thrust the
touchscreen under his nose. His eyes skate over the confirmation of the skewed lottery results being a direct result of the manipulated registry, but instead of anger or a return of his frenetic energy, Charon just scoffs, shrinking into himself. “You think they’ll just let you waltz back into the dome and dismantle all their secrets?”
“We have to try,” I say.
“The magnitude of their lies…” Charon shakes his head and hands the touchscreen back to me.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Rik says resolutely.
“The cycle stops now if you let us tell the truth.” I hold my breath as Charon stares at both of us.
His posture relents after a long moment. “All right. All right.”
“We’ll retrace our steps using the tunnels,” I say.
“Which works so long as the authorities haven’t found them yet,” Rik interrupts.
“My operatives would’ve told us if they’ve been compromised,” Charon says. “But even if we get back into the city, what then? Aventine and the authorities will still be looking for you.”
“They can capture us or not,” I say, “but we can’t risk the database patch and evidence of Vesa falling into the wrong hands.”
Charon snorts. “Good luck with that.”
“That’s why we need to bring the data in the same way I brought it out. In my blood.” Rik and Charon just stare at me. “Think about it. This is the biggest conspiracy to hit New Worth in living memory. We need to ensure the data stays safe and secure until we decide what to do with it.”
Rik takes my arm. “Are you sure about this?” He knows what the last job cost me. But this’ll be different. It has to be.
“No, no, she’s right,” Charon says, professional enthusiasm finally giving way. “Once they get their hands on her, she’ll be debriefed by the highest levels of government. They’ll examine her inside and out to make sure we haven’t tampered with the goods, so to speak.”
“That’s right. And even if I’m captured, I’ll end up in Aventine’s hands one way or the other. I still have allies there.” At least I hope so. “They’ll help me – help us – tell the truth.” I wait for Rik’s reaction, but for once he doesn’t jump at the chance to criticize my employer. “But that’s the worst-case scenario.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Charon says.
“Can you do it?” Rik asks Charon. “The blood encoding?”
“Not with all the bells, whistles, and autodestruct capabilities, but, yeah, the general concept, I think. But not out here. With my gear in the Underground.” His gaze goes off into the distance. “My whole life I’ve been looking for something to believe in.” His fingers skate over the jagged scar at the base of his neck. “It wasn’t implants or the society that built them. I thought Emergence was it, a chance to start over, but even that’s tainted now.” He whirls back the way we came.
Despite how long we’ve walked these past few days, New Worth’s still visible, a glass sentry over so much green, the dome sparkling in the sunset.
“We’ll make them pay.”
Chapter Thirty
We return to the dome the way we came, the tunnels thankfully untouched in our absence, though the mood’s much diminished from when we first set out. Exhausted, Rik crashes in the bar’s storeroom as Charon and the others gather the supplies necessary to secrete away the data and the images of Vesa in my blood. Rik needs the rest more than I do after the last few days.
I try to answer as many of Charon’s questions about hemocryption as I can, wishing I paid more attention to the process. But as with everything having anything to do with blood, I blocked most of it out.
“Won’t be able to replicate their process exactly,” Charon says when I run out of things to tell him. “But we’ll encode the data onto your blood cells, unencrypted.”
“That’ll be good enough. And then we’ll make things right. I promise.”
Denita snorts, not bothering to look up from one of the consoles. “What good’s the word of a Canopy brat?”
I try not to react to the dislike radiating off her frame. “I lived down here until I was eighteen.”
“Bet you couldn’t wait to escape.”
“No, I couldn’t. The only things we have to sustain ourselves are the implants and thoughts of Emergence. Don’t judge me for taking one of the few avenues available to me, and I won’t judge you for refusing it.”
She rears back, ready to fight, I’m certain, but Charon waves her off. His gaze drifts to the collar around my neck. “I’m guessing you’d like that gone.”
“That would be nice,” I say, as diplomatically as possible.
He produces a magnetic key of some kind that unlocks the collars. “Back to normal, though you should probably only use a secure channel. No telling what’ll happen when your signal shows back up on the city’s network, all right?”
“Right. Thanks.”
While they work, I join Rik in the storeroom. Sleep now softens the apprehension that’s lined his face ever since I showed up on his doorstep. He doesn’t stir as I remove his collar using Charon’s key. The full weight of our connection settles over me, familiar and full of longing.
Not knowing when I’ll get another chance, I let myself really look at him in this unguarded moment. At the messy dark locks that sweep down over one eye, begging me to tuck them back into place. At the relaxed jaw I’ve too often seen firm in annoyance at me or in resolve at what needs to be done.
After everything we’ve been through – after everything I’ve asked of him – he’s still here, at my side. I’ve taken so much from him. I’ll find a way to make it up to him, no matter what happens today.
<
Blinking back consternation, I realize Rik’s looking at me from underneath his bangs. For how long? >>We’ll need the implants up and running if we’re going to have a chance.>>
His eyes momentarily drift shut again. <
The easy camaraderie, the slight friction promising more. I want to deny it – an automatic defense mechanism to keep him at bay, especially after the other night. But… >>I… can’t.>> What good has pushing him away ever done for me? I’ve learned that lesson too many times to count.
He nods as though I’ve confirmed something for him that he’s known all along. His gaze finds mine. Our connection zings with reverb – him watching me watching him – reinforcing the fact that although I now know his face in concert with his signal, something’s still missing. Something we found outside.
“Liv–”
A curt knock announces Charon. “We’re ready for you, Emery.” We join him, Denita, and the other Disconnects in the main room. Charon waves me toward a chair near a nightmare apparatus of tubing and circuitry. “Not as scary as it looks.”
“I sure as hell hope not.” I take a seat. Eyes shut, I focus on my connection with Rik to help ground me as Charon hooks me up to his equipment. If Finola thought the government’s tech was behind the times, I can only imagine what she’d think of this. Once the gear starts humming, I finally open my eyes. “All right. The City Council’s chambers are in the Echelon. If we stick to access stairs and areas with spotty surveillance, we just might have a chance.”
Charon’s already shaking his head. “Not the Council.”
“But I thought we agreed–”
“Can’t trust they’ll do the right thing in time. We need to find another way.”
“Then I guess that leaves the media,” I say.
Charon frowns. “We don’t exactly have the best relationship with them. All the local offices down here get skittish with the tips we give them.”
&nb
sp; “That’s because you’ve manipulated them one too many times to advance your cause,” Rik says.
Charon just shrugs. “Desperate times.”
“Then I’ll need to go alone to New Worth News headquarters in the Upper Canopy,” I say. Won’t even bother with the satellite locations – they’re technically closer but aren’t nearly as secure as the flagship location. “But no matter what route I take, it’ll still be tricky with the police hunting me.”
Charon’s gaze darts around the room, unsettled, thinking. “What are you suggesting?”
If you can’t avoid attention, then try to set up an unwitting decoy.
“You need to flood the Canopy with protesters. Another rally protesting the lottery results will be our cover.” His followers weren’t too happy at having to return to the city. We can put that pent-up anger to use. “You get us close enough to the New Worth News headquarters, and I’ll do the rest.”
“Anything else you need?” Charon asks.
A chuckle escapes me. “A way to keep Aventine off my back once I’m out there. But I think that’s something beyond even your abilities.”
Charon’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be so sure.”
A few hours later, a good twenty of us spill out of the bar onto the street, Charon leading the way. >>I don’t know how you do this,>> I tell Rik.
<
>>Return to the Terrestrial District after each planting trip.>> The filth, the cramped streets, and the claustrophobia of the rest of the city looming overhead. My memories of being outside are being corrupted as we speak.
He laughs. <
More protesters join us, emerging from the buildings closed off from the fake quarantine.
>>I don’t know if I could be that patient.>>
<
Implanted Page 32