After two flights, I reached a landing and a metal door. There was a small window in the door looking out onto the roof of the building. Twenty feet away, through a haze of heat, I saw what looked like a maintenance room. Maybe for access to elevator systems or something else. It was worth a try, so I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the roof. The sun beat down on my head as I hurried across. When I reached the door, I grasped the handle, said a little prayer, and turned it. The handle offered no resistance and the door swung open, revealing a shadowy room with little spots of green and red where LEDs glowed on instrument panels. I stepped inside quickly and closed the door behind me. This place would have to do. It would be my refuge while I waited for nightfall.
Chapter 4
Running
The first thing I did was shut off the data connection on my specs. Next, I carefully lowered my backpack to the floor and, fumbling in the dark, found the woven metal tube, and yanked it on over my biosensor. Now they wouldn’t be able to track me. Xel’s fur felt soft and cool to the touch as I reached into the pack again. What did the man say about my firmware mod? It was dangerous somehow? Never mind, I thought and pushed it out of my head. I couldn’t think about Xel right now. I had to find out where I was and make a plan. My fingers closed on a little LED keychain flashlight I always keep in my pack.
As I pulled it out and turned it in my palm, I remembered the day I got it. It was one of the few nice days we had spent as a family since the move. We had all gone to the Science Museum to see an exhibit about life in the Mars colony. Afterward, we had stopped in the gift shop, and I had chosen the flashlight. Pushing the memory from my mind, I turned it on and surveyed the room.
The walls and floor were bare concrete. On the wall opposite the door were several large metal boxes with pipes and conduit running in and out of them. They looked like racks for computer or electrical equipment. There was a loud hum in the room coming from an AC unit on the ceiling. It was annoying but better than the sweltering heat outside. Next to the door was a metal cabinet taller than me.
I pulled the door open. It was empty except for a couple of pairs of work gloves on an upper shelf and a gallon can of paint. It would be a good place to hide in case anybody came looking. I quickly lifted the shelves out and put them on top of the cabinet. With my legs tucked up, backpack between my knees, I sat down inside and pulled the door most of the way closed.
Sitting there in the dark, my body began to relax, I started to shiver, and an overpowering loneliness crept up from my stomach. A great sob convulsed my chest and tears stung my eyes. What the hell was I doing? Was I really running away? I thought about my parents and the doctors. Was I losing my mind? The tears flowed, and my nose ran. I shook my head. No, I wasn’t. I knew what I heard them say.
I couldn’t let them do that to me. I couldn’t let them put a computer in my head that would change me, control me. They could make me do anything, act any way they wanted. I lifted a hand and felt the place on the crown of my head where my mother had kissed me. She never did that. Thinking about her made the sadness and fear even worse. I hunched forward as the sobs rolled through me, drawing ragged breaths. Would I ever see them again? My parents and my sister? If I managed to get away, where would I go? What would I do? I would have to figure that out later. For now, if I was going to get away, I had to be smart and brave and worry about the present, not the future.
I didn’t know how long it took but finally the sobbing lessened and the tears stopped. After that, I just sat still in the dark and waited. I thought about my whole life--the life left behind when we moved. It wasn’t bad. I was fine before. I could be again. They didn’t give me time to adjust. Why did the doctors think I needed to be fixed? I thought about the happiest times in my life. It came to me then that I was happiest when I was being myself, when I was free to be myself. Most of the time I hid. I was used to hiding my true self. I was good at it. When you’re a weirdo, you get used to trying not to be seen or heard. Quiet is safe. The less people notice you the better. Sometimes, though, when I was with Rosie, or by myself, or just hanging out with my father programming, not talking, I could let my guard down and just exist. Those were the best times.
A fumbling at the door to the room brought me out of my daze, and I quickly pulled the cabinet shut, holding my breath, heart pounding. I heard the door swing open. Through the small cracks around the edges of the cabinet I saw light--a flashlight beam swinging around the room. A voice suddenly cut through the silence but it sounded like it was coming from a speaker.
“Report in. Any sign of the girl? Over.” This was followed by a short pause while the light continued to move around the walls, the corners. I heard two steps, then the cabinet door was pulled open. I sat there, frozen, looking up. The flashlight beam blinded me for a moment then swung up, pointing at the ceiling. I saw a middle aged man, probably my father’s age, looking down at me. He was dressed all in black. He slowly raised has hand and tapped the contact on his specs, not taking his eyes off me.
“Officer Huang reporting. Checking the roof. Nothing yet. Over.”
“Finish searching the roof then return to the security office. Over.”
“Copy that. Over.” He lowered his hand, still watching me. “Be careful,” he said, “Best time to get away is early morning. I wouldn’t let them do that to me either, or my daughter. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, but the door was already banging closed.
He was gone. Slowly, I relaxed. It took a few minutes for me to process what had happened. I could hardly believe he hadn’t turned me in. It felt like a confirmation that I was doing the right thing, that they were misguided, that what they wanted to do to me was wrong. Silently, I thanked him again, sending out my energy, hoping he would catch it.
I needed to hide out until early morning--he said it would be the best time to get away and there was no reason to doubt him. It wasn’t going to be easy. Resigning myself to a long wait, I sat back and wiggled around into a more comfortable position. I realized I was hungry so I searched in my backpack. Again I felt Xel’s compact body. Should I wake him? I wondered. How would he react? Would he tell me to go home? What would he do if I refused? He was loyal to me, but there might be some override. He might be required by his programming to turn me in. I could use his help and guidance. Vast amounts of knowledge were saved in his memory. I needed a friend too. I couldn’t risk it just then, though. I would have to wait and wake him up later. I continued digging and found an old protein bar at the bottom of the pack. It was all the food I had so I ate it slowly, savoring every bite. After I finished the bar, I leaned back and pulled up the book I was reading on my specs. It felt weird to be sitting there in a metal cabinet, in a concrete room, on the roof of a hospital, reading a book while people searched for me down below. I needed to take my mind off the situation, though, and reading was a good way to do that. Reading had always been my escape.
***
At five a.m., I decided it was time. I had actually slept for a few hours, curled up uncomfortably in the cabinet, wishing I had something warmer than a hoodie. I wanted to get away while it was still dark out but not so early that I would be the only person out on the street. When I crawled out of the cabinet, I had to spend a minute stretching my legs and back before I felt like I could move normally. After that, I had no excuse for delay so I lifted the backpack onto my shoulders, slowly opened the door, and looked out over the roof. The moon was out, providing a silvery light. Were there cameras? I couldn’t see any. I would just have to chance it. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I stepped out and let the door close behind me. There was a breeze and the temperature had dropped. I shivered a little as I strode across to the door I had come out of earlier. When I grasped the handle and turned it, though, the door wouldn’t open. It was locked. I felt my stomach drop. What now? Improvising was not one of my strengths. I always liked to have a plan.
My back to the door, I looked out over the moonlit roof.
About thirty feet away, to my right, I saw what looked like the top of a ladder curving up over the edge. I walked over. It was a steel ladder, bolted to the outside of the building. It went all the way down to the roof of the parking structure. My palms began to prickle and a nervous sweat broke out on my forehead at the thought of being four stories up on that ladder. It was the only option I could see, though, so I swung my leg over awkwardly and started lowering myself, rung by rung. The steel was cold on my hands and the backpack with Xel’s weight in it dragged at me. Twenty feet down from the top of the roof, I had to pause for a minute, arms wrapped tightly around the sides of the ladder, heart thumping in my chest. My fear felt like an electric current flowing through me. I couldn’t catch my breath. Finally, I started moving down again. It seemed like it took forever, and I didn’t really believe I was going to make it until, at last, my feet touched the roof below, and I collapsed in a heap, exhausted.
I stayed there for several minutes, getting my breath and strength back. I knew I had to keep moving, though. I couldn’t get caught. Farther out, the roof of the parking structure was lit by the moon, but I was in the shadow of the building. I crept along, keeping to the shadows until I reached the edge of the roof. About fifteen feet down below was a narrow road that ran along the back of the hospital. On the other side of the road was a low wall and then a landscaped terrace surrounding an office building next door.
There was an exterior stairwell about forty feet away across the roof. I would have to pass through the bright moonlight to get to it and, when I did, the door might be locked. It looked like my only option, though. No reason to wait, I decided and headed straight across. The door was not locked. I pulled it open, stepped quickly inside, then hurried down the concrete steps. Two flights down, I came to another door that I assumed would open on the ground floor of the parking garage. Nobody used parking garages anymore but lots of older buildings still had them. Sometimes they were used for parking autocabs during off-peak hours. I didn’t really know what I would find on the other side of the door so I pushed it open slowly and peeked out. It was just a big, dark, empty space. In front of the door was a sour smelling puddle. The only light came from outside through big rectangular openings in the walls. I stepped carefully over the puddle and went to the nearest opening. It was only a few feet down to the access road. I could climb through, jump down, and be over the wall and away. Just as I was about to throw my leg over, though, I saw headlights and ducked down. A security patrol van passed by, moving slowly. I wondered it if was the same man, Officer Huang, on patrol. I didn’t dare raise my eyes high enough to get a good look, though. I stayed down until it was gone and then quickly climbed out. My shoes sounded loud on the asphalt, but I was across the road and over the wall in seconds.
I fled across a patch of damp lawn, rounded the office building, and stopped in the shadow of a doorway. What now? I wondered. Crouching there in the dark, I realized I had been so focused on getting away that I hadn’t thought about where I was going or how I would get there. Suddenly, though, an image of my grandmother flashed through my head. Of course. It was the obvious choice. I would go back to PacNW. She would help me. She had been set against us leaving. She never said it to me, but I heard her arguing with my father when they thought I was asleep. It was a few weeks before we left. She came over for dinner and then stayed, sitting up with my parents after I went to bed.
I remembered the raised voices, my mother trying to hush them. I loved my grandmother. She had always been there, helping me work through things, someone I could talk to.
If I told her what they were planning, why I ran away, she would support me. How would I get there, though? I didn’t even know how to begin.
The backpack was pulling heavy on my shoulders, and I realized that I would have to take a chance and wake Xel up. He would be able to help.
I slipped the straps off my shoulders, unzipped the large pocket, and lifted Xel out. Sitting with him on my lap, I found the hidden button under the ruff of fur at the back of his neck. I felt the hum in his body as he began to wake. He raised his head and looked at me but his eyes were blank, his brain still coming online. I remembered the first time I booted him up. I had done it a couple of times since then, after I installed firmware mods. This time felt like the first time again, though. I was holding my breath, hoping he would work right, hoping all the code would execute smoothly. The first time was in my bedroom at our old house. My father had brought Xel in and was sitting on the bed while I unpacked him. It was before I knew we were going to move, but I guess I already felt it deep down. I waited as I had waited then, full of fear and trepidation, trying to process something vast and life-changing but at the same time focused on the present. Slowly, I saw consciousness fill his eyes.
Suddenly, he jumped up, swiveled his head from side to side, and sniffed the air. “Tara,” he said, “I was dreaming a cold dream. Your father shut me down. Where are we? Outside? Nighttime? Almost dawn.”
“Yes. Outside. Xel, I don’t know how to explain. My mom said she was taking me to an appointment with my doctor, but the doctor wasn’t a real doctor...” I told him the full story while he sat still, listening. It took a while. I wasn’t good at telling stories. I had to stop, backtrack, explain things I forgot.
“This is troubling,” he replied when I was done. “I understand. Your bodily integrity and right to self-determination are threatened. Running away is not an unreasonable action. I feel something. Is it possible for me to feel this?” He stopped for a moment, sounding confused. “I am not programmed to feel anger, but I think it is what I feel. It is an expanding feeling. It has a warmth. I feel anger on your behalf, Tara, but also a need to protect you. I always feel that, but it seems different, deeper.”
“The man said the mod I installed changed some parameters that kept you from experiencing certain emotions.”
“Yes. Clearly. I will need to get used to this. Now, though, we need a plan. Where are we going?”
I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him, feeling tears sting my eyes again. “Home, Xel. I want to go home. Back to PacNW. To my grandmother.”
He seemed to think for a minute. “Okay. We will need supplies. You need different clothes, food, a warmer coat. We will have to be careful. They must be looking for you. How can we purchase supplies?”
“I have a gift chip my grandmother gave me for my birthday. It’s just credit. It shouldn’t be traceable.”
“Yes.” His eyes were glassy, turned inward, processing data. “There’s a shop nearby. It opens at eight a.m. I see a route to get there that avoids major streets.” He turned his face to me, squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them slowly. “We will need to find a safe place to wait until it opens.”
Chapter 5
Finding a Way
Xel led and I followed. I wasn’t sure where he was leading me, but I felt like we were heading out of Santa Monica in the direction of Venice and, eventually, Playa Vista, but that was miles away. We crept carefully through the immaculately landscaped perimeters of office buildings until we reached a more residential area where the tree-lined streets were quiet and the houses were separated from the street by tall walls of concrete and brick. Eventually, we came to an elevated freeway and crossed under it. On the far side, the fancy office buildings and gated communities gave way to an area of warehouses and small, dilapidated houses. Down alleys, around buildings, through dank underpasses, Xel slinked along ahead of me. Finally, in an alleyway, he turned and waited while I caught up.
“We should wait here,” he said. “The store is around the corner. This is the back entrance.”
We found a loading dock half hidden by a foul smelling dumpster and crouched there in the shadows. It was only six forty-five--over an hour before the shop would open. To pass the time, we started in on a language lesson. I didn’t really feel like it, but Xel thought it would calm me. Xel could speak almost any language and could translate easily between any two. Lately, he had been teach
ing me Mandarin Chinese. My friend Rosie’s mother spoke Mandarin, and Rosie spoke a little bit. I had wanted to surprise her sometime when we met online. Now, I realized suddenly, I might see her in person first.
“Nihao,” he began.
“Wo hen hao,” I replied, “Nine?”
Xel did not respond, though. His raised his head, ears pricked up. “Pull your legs up, Tara.”
I pulled my legs up quickly onto the loading dock ledge and hugged them to my chest, peering into the darkness. Xel stood, all his attention focused on something approaching from the left. It was difficult to see in the dim morning light but as it came closer I saw that it was a dog, lean and feral. The dog slowed, sniffing the air, then turned toward us, growling and prowling closer. Xel let out a low growl in response. It was a frightening sound I had never heard him make. His fur stood on end, and he moved between me and the dog. For several tense seconds, the two faced off, sizing each other up. Finally, the dog took a step backward, then another, then turned and trotted away down the alley without so much as a backward look.
“That dog didn’t know that I have no claws,” Xel remarked, sitting back down next to me. “Shall we carry on? Wo hen hao. Nijiào shénme míngzì?”
***
At eight a.m., we decided I should go into the store by myself while Xel waited in the alley. I didn’t want to leave him there but I couldn’t take him in with me. Any bulletins or news coverage would surely mention that I was traveling with a T91 cat. It was too risky. So, all alone, I walked to the end of the alley, half a block to the next street, and then turned down the sidewalk to get to the main entrance of the store.
The Place Inside the Storm Page 4