“You think she’s a slave?”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.”
“Tell you what,” said Harry.
“What?”
“Let’s make it through the night, and see if we’re still alive enough in the morning to do something.”
“But—”
“They’re off-link, Lace.” Harry swiveled back forward. “They come back on, we can talk to them.”
“I wish I knew where they were.”
“Me too,” said Harry.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
“We’re doing what?” Mike blinked at him.
Mason frowned. “You’re talking like it’s a big deal.”
“It kind of is,” said Mike. “It—”
“You don’t have guns?” Mason looked at the Metatech logo on the man’s lapel, then back to his face. “Don’t you guys make guns?”
“Reed make guns too,” said Mike.
“Good as yours?”
“Shit no,” said Mike.
“What’s the problem then?”
“There’s probably a hundred guys in there. We’re probably going to die.”
Mason kicked a stone in the street, then ran a hand through rain-slick hair. “That’s going to happen anyway.”
“What?”
“Zacharies.”
Mike stopped walking. “What about him?”
“Thought so,” said Mason.
“What’s — what the fuck,” said Mike.
“It’s like this,” said Mason. “The rain?”
“I know, the kid told me,” said Mike. “He says it’s got some demon in it. I said bullshit.”
“I don’t think it’s bullshit,” said Mason.
“You on drugs?”
“No more than usual,” said Mason. “Mostly alcohol. Drugs make the lattice edgy.”
“Yours got that glitch too? I wish the geeks in R&D would iron that out.”
“They’re never going to,” said Mason. “Wrong incentive.”
“I thought so too,” said Mike. “Bad for the company if their assets go out on mission half-jacked.”
“Or all the way jacked,” said Mason. He rubbed at the back of his neck where water was walking down toward the seams in his armor. “Thing is, we’re talking around the issue.”
“What’s the issue?”
“That kid,” said Mason.
“Zacharies? Or Laia?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Mason. “You feel responsible.”
“The hell I do,” said Mike. “Kid dropped out of the sky on my lap. I’m just…” He stopped talking.
“Thought so,” said Mason. “They kind of get under your skin, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” said Mike. “What’s your point?”
“Reed.”
“Motherfuckers, sure,” said Mike. “I’m not following, though.”
“Zacharies talked much about their old master?”
“Little bit,” said Mike. “Not a lot. Sounds like a real asshole.”
“And where is this real asshole right now?”
“Reed,” said Mike. “They’ve got some new mind-controlling drug—”
“I don’t think it’s a drug,” said Mason. “Not all the way, anyway.”
Mike walked along for a few moments, not saying anything.
“It’s not a drug,” said Mason.
“I heard you.”
“He’ll be trying to get them back.”
“You sure about that?” Mike looked around. “I don’t see him here.”
“He’s here,” said Mason. He lifted an arm. “The rain.”
Mike frowned. “Hell. If he was here, I’d be running at him. Or away. I’m not sure.” The other man looked at his boots. “Probably at him. He sounds like he needs his face punched in.”
“Ok,” said Mason. “I’m tired of running.”
“You’re tired?” Mike looked back the way they’d come, the streets dark. “You sure that’s why?”
“It’s not why. There’s someone out there that needs their face punched in.” Mason stopped. “That girl saved my life.”
“Figures,” said Mike, a smile tugging at his face. “I knew you Apsel pussies were soft, but I didn’t figure you for being saved by kids.”
Mason laughed. It felt good. “Yeah. Well, it’s true. I’m pretty sure…”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure that kid saved me. Not just my life. And you know what?”
“You’re going to tell me. I can feel it in my bones.”
“It’s time someone had the balls to save her.”
Mike looked at him for a moment. “There’s no going back,” he said after a moment. “The Syndicate Compact—”
“That thing’s been broken to pieces. It’s an excuse.”
“You’re right,” said Mike. “How we going to do this?”
“Back to the guns,” said Mason. “How many you got?”
“A lot,” said Mike.
“What about guys? You got a lot of guys?”
Mike frowned. “I’ve got six guys.”
“That it?”
“Yep.”
Mason looked up at the rain. “Then that’ll be enough.”
⚔ ⚛ ⚔
“Shotgun,” said Sadie. She held the guitar case low in front of her with both hands.
Mason frowned at her. “You want to ride in the front?”
“Damn straight,” she said. “Last time you shut me in the back with the orphans and drones.” She tossed Haraway a glance. “No offense.”
“I think,” said Haraway, “that I’m going to pull rank.”
“What kind of rank? We’re in the—”
Haraway flashed perfect teeth. It wasn’t quite a smile. “On the scale of corporate power, do you think that a research scientist is higher or lower than a musician?”
Sadie scuffed a black boot across the street. “It depends who you talk to, I guess.”
“In the back,” said Haraway.
“Fuck,” said Sadie, but her answering grin said there was the start of something else in there somewhere.
Laia came out of the building they’d been using as a hotel for — God, how long’s it been? Days feel like months, out here away from the world. Mason tossed her a small smile. “You going to be ok?”
Laia laughed, fierce and bright. “Mike brought my brother back. Yes.”
“Ok,” said Mason. “Ok. Oh. Hey. One sec.” He turned away.
“Where are you going?” Laia’s voice turned him around in his steps. “We’re leaving.”
“Hey. It’s ok.” Mason looked at his hands. “I forgot something. I’ll just be a second.” He turned away again, jogging back towards the building, the black of the Metatech armor light on his shoulders. Say what you will about them — hell, us — but they make good combat tech. The local link into the suit was live and hot, and he could feel the texture of the wooden door through his gloves as he pushed it open.
He looked around the room, standing almost empty. A few scattered items littered the room, the table where he and Laia had shared —
Enough. Mason shrugged his shoulders, then turned to look at it. It was still in the corner where he’d left it, the box old and tatty, the leather handle on the top. He flipped it onto the table, releasing the clasps, and looked at the dress. It was old, the style lost to the world years ago. He touched it with a gloved hand, feeling the rustle of the fabric against the tips of his gloves. The sensation sparked down the link.
“Hey,” said Sadie. She was in the doorway.
“Hey yourself,” said Mason, looking at her. “I almost forgot—”
“Who’s it for?” Sadie leaned against the doorframe, not quite looking at Mason. “You never said.”
“A friend,” said Mason.
“She a dancer?”
Mason looked into the case, the old dress withered inside it. “No,” he said. “I don’t think she is.”
“Then why—”
<
br /> “I don’t know,” said Mason. “Sometimes you got to pick the right gift at the right time.”
“It’s for a girl, isn’t it.” Sadie sniffed. She said something else, too low to hear.
“What?” Mason snapped the clasps shut, hefting the case.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Sadie. She turned to go.
“Sadie,” said Mason.
She stopped but didn’t turn back. “What?”
“She’s a friend, Sadie. I don’t—” Mason looked down at the case in his hand. He swallowed. She wouldn’t understand.
“You don’t what?” She still didn’t turn, but her head had tipped sideways like she was listening for something.
He tried it out to see how it sounded. “I don’t have many of those.”
He watched the back of her head move as she nodded. “No, I guess you don’t.” She half turned her head. “A piece of free advice, company man?”
“Sure.”
“Be careful. Not everyone will look after your heart as carefully as… Not everyone will be careful. With you.”
Mason looked back down at the case, then back at Sadie, but she’d already stepped outside. He heard the crunch of her boots as she walked away.
“Well, shit,” he said to the empty room. He walked out, the case in his hand.
Mike was by one of the APCs. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“What’s in the box?” Mike looked at the case. “Looks like a piece of crap.”
Mason frowned. “It’s for a friend.”
“Some friend,” said Mike. “You know there’s no going back?”
“What?”
“To your friend. I assume they work at the Federate.”
“Yeah,” said Mason. “Look, don’t sweat it. I’ll FedEx it.”
“Sure,” said Mike. He turned and got in an APC. Before he pulled the door shut, he looked back at Mason. “Be careful with the link, Floyd. They might track you.”
“I’ll be careful.” But he nodded at Mike anyway, and the other man pulled the APC door shut. Mason sighed. It’s just a dress. Leave it. She doesn’t dance. She said so.
He stowed it in the back of an APC anyway, then climbed in the side. Sadie was strapped in, struggling with a vest, the armor plates shifting like the chitin on an insect.
Haraway turned from the front passenger seat, looking at them. “Try to help the kids with their clothing, Floyd.”
Mason reached out to the clasps on Sadie’s armor, but she batted his hands away. “I can do it.”
The lights on the inside flickered, the APC lurching as the Metatech man kicked the drive into gear. Mason stumbled, catching himself on the bulkhead. He looked up, face inches from Sadie’s.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s ok,” she said.
“It’s just that—”
“I know,” she said.
Mason sat back down on the seat facing her. He watched her fiddle with the clamps on the armor for a few minutes, the APC jostling a little over the uneven road leading out of the town. “I can help.”
She stopped moving, sighing. “I can do it.”
“Ok,” he said.
“Are you going to sit there and watch me?” Sadie glared at him.
“No,” he said, looking out the window.
Sadie kept struggling with the clasps for a few more moments. “There.”
Mason flicked a glance at her. “Oh.”
“‘Oh?’” Sadie frowned. “What do you mean, ‘oh?’”
“It’s nothing,” said Mason.
“Floyd,” said Sadie.
“No, it’s fine.” Mason nodded at her vest. “It’s just—”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Christ!” Sadie threw herself back in her seat. “You finished?”
“Sure,” said Mason, a grin touching his face.
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he said, nodding.
“What is it?” Sadie was watching him.
“It’s just that—”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t say you’ve got it completely wrong,” said Mason, “but I’m pretty sure that if you get out of that seat it’ll fall right off.”
“It will what?” Sadie leaned forward, and the armor released at the back with a click, the plates sliding free and loose around her shoulders. “Oh.”
“Right,” said Mason.
“Floyd?”
“Yeah.” He moved away from the bench to help her with her armor. He couldn’t tell if it was going to be a long drive back to the city or not.
⚔ ⚛ ⚔
They passed a blasted tree, the arms grasping at the sky as the APC sped past. Mason’s optics flickered for a second, and then he noticed some text spooling up on his overlay.
LINK RE-ESTABLISHED. A few more moments passed, and then it clicked up again.
ONLINE.
The cursor blinked a few more times, and Mason sighed. I wish Carter could have come with us. It’d be nice to talk to her again.
“What is it?” Sadie pulled her eyes away from the window. Rain had started to fall outside — or maybe it’d been falling for a while, and they’d just driven into it. It left silver streaks against the glass, pulling long lines as the APCs chewed up the distance.
“You know where we’re going?” Mason leaned forward a little, the grumble of the APC building for a moment as it scrambled up an incline.
“Yes,” said Sadie.
“You don’t need to come,” said Mason.
“Floyd?” Sadie leaned forward herself. “Do you know what it means to be part of a team?”
“Sure,” he said. “I—”
“Shut up for a second,” she said. “How many cars we got here?”
“APCs,” said Mason. “They’re APCs.”
“What’s an APC?”
“Armored personnel carrier.”
“What do they do?”
“Drive troops around,” said Mason. “Mostly.”
“Like a car?”
Mason sighed. “Sure,” he said. “Like a car.”
“How many cars we got here?”
“Three,” he said. “There are three… cars.”
She tossed him a hint of a smile, just a quirk of one side of her lips. He noticed that she’d managed to get the black lipstick on again. Where the hell did she get lipstick? Out here? “Ok. So we got three cars. How many dudes can we get in a car?”
“I dunno. There’s…” Mason looked at the ceiling of the APC, then counted off on his fingers. “There are four of us in here, what with Rough Wheels MacQueen driving.”
“Hey,” said the driver. “You been told to get fucked today?”
“Sorry,” said Mason. “What’s your name?”
“It’s not Rough Wheels MacQueen,” said the Metatech man, turning back to the road. Mason caught a savage slash of rain against the windscreen, and the Metatech man pulled up an amber overlay, the wireframes kicking out into the distance. Lightning crashed somewhere, a hint of static chasing pebbles of snow across the overlay.
“You have this talent,” said Sadie, “for pissing off just about everyone, don’t you?”
“I guess,” said Mason. “I do a lot of field work. Solo.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t a question.” Sadie pulled against the collar of her armor. “This stuff—”
“You don’t have to go,” said Mason. “Really.”
Sadie’s hand stopped moving against her collar, then she lowered it. “Haraway?”
“What is it?” Haraway turned to look over her shoulder. “You kids fighting back there?”
“Do I have to go?” Sadie looked at Mason.
“Yes,” said Haraway. “If I have to go, you have to go.”
“See?” Sadie shrugged. “Gotta go. She outranks me.”
“I—” Mason swallowed. “You don’t have to go.”
“Mason—”
“It’s not your fight,” he sai
d. He put a hand out to her, but pulled it back, then looked down. “It’s not your fight.”
Sadie reached out, her hand slow and tentative. She touched the back of his glove, the fibers in the suit kicking the feeling of the touch through the hard link. “Mason?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re on the same team.”
He looked up, then put his hand over hers. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“Oh, hell,” she said. “You didn’t get me into anything.”
“I—”
“I’ve been getting myself into trouble since forever,” she said. “Not your fault you were there this time.”
He thought about that for a moment. “Still,” he said. “I think I’d have liked to do this right.”
“Like how?” Sadie looked up at him, the Metatech logo on her armor catching the light.
“Maybe… Hell.” Mason wanted to pull away, and wanted to leave his hands still at the same time. “Shit. Dinner and a show.”
Sadie’s face stood still, but something flickered in her eyes. “Mason?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe after—”
“Fuck me sideways,” said the Metatech man. The APC lurched as he yanked at the controls. Mason could see them outside the APC, people standing still in a mass on the freeway.
What the hell. There were hundreds of them. The APC’s tires caught on something and it bucked and slewed, a shower of standing water lifted in front of the windscreen like a bow wave. “Tactical,” said Mason, the link request going live to the Metatech team around him. He saw —
The three APCs, no longer in a steady line, one having run through the Armco and chewed through the dirt on the side of the road. Mike’s blip, blue and safe with another Metatech man, was in the same APC with Laia and Zacharies. The third APC sat in the road in front of Mason’s, four Metatech blips inside. Haraway came online on the overlay.
“Link clean,” said Mason.
“Clean,” said Haraway.
“Clean,” said Mike.
Mason looked out the windscreen as the APC’s active mapping lased out, red lines scratching over the people outside. His overlay filled up with markers, cross-referenced with data from the other APCs.
“There’s something you don’t see every day,” said Mason.
Mike’s voice came in over the link. “I dunno.”
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