It smelled old in here, and it was creeping into him.
More hours passed, and Cody brought breakfast. So the night had come and gone, his bones aching with the reality of it all, the waiting.
Cody said, “Someone else will bring your lunch. I won’t be here.”
“Does it matter?” Khim did not plan to be here that long anyway, because Trev had said soon.
Cody looked a little sad, then shrugged. And Khim could only think of how stupid a child he was, for who in their right mind would be here of their own free will? Of course the answer was money. It was always money. Even the military who’d sold him under a history of lies had done so because of money.
He decided not to eat the breakfast. Just in case.
Something echoed off the lights, like a little mechanical shriek of adjustment. The door to his cell clicked. The sound, under the near-silent humming in the walls, was like something breaking.
When he got up to investigate, he found the door to his cage unlocked. One push and it swung wide.
Khim. It’s Trev.
He almost laughed. Who else would it be?
Listen carefully, because once you leave this room I will find it hard to contact you, though I hope to follow your progress with the building’s cameras.
First, I’ve unlocked all the doors between your location and the elevators. Can you find your way from there to the garage?
Khim nodded. He was trained military. Unless he was drugged out of his mind, he assessed landscapes, no matter the milieu, as if on automatic. Always.
Okay. I have, at this moment, your route cleared. When you get to the garage, find the purple flier with the numbers 2F893-D. It’s a Collin. I’ve already remotely taken care of the locks. You’ll have to disable the tracker yourself. You can do that, right?
Khim nodded again. He’d learned that too, in the military.
But Trev did not know that, because he said, Glad to hear you were watching me closely when I did it at the prison.
Khim scowled up at the camera.
What? Did I say something bad?
Khim shook his head.
Now I need you to memorize these coordinates.
Trev started listing numbers slowly. Khim memorized them instantly.
Do you need me to repeat?
Khim shook his head, wishing he could reiterate to Trev that he was not slow and never had been. Most androids came equipped with photographic memories.
Feed the coordinates into the flier. It will drop you off, but you’ll still be ten miles from our destination. You’ll have to walk the rest of the way. The walking coordinates are—
And another list of numbers to remember wafted down from the lights in a tinny tone.
If you can, try to park the flier somewhere inconspicuous. It belongs to the company, but who knows how long it will take someone in my father’s camp to decide it has gone missing.
And again, Khim nodded.
When you reach the destination, you are to do nothing. Sit and wait. And don’t forget to breathe.
Okay, are you ready?
Khim gave him a thumbs-up with his metal hand.
Then go, my friend. Now.
It felt strange to be on his own, even though he was following orders in a way. Trev’s orders, which were more trusted to his mind than any man’s in the universe. He’d imprinted on Trev; that was a fact. And the imprint became stronger because what he felt for the man could not be denied.
For Trev, he would do anything now. Including this risky, flimsy plan.
The door to the dungeon was ajar, true to Trev’s word. He deftly skirted through, although he knew with a tinge of dread what was on the other side.
He swallowed hard, then made his way across the tiled room that led to the round shower room, the preparation area for the slaves who were sold for nights of debauchery. He saw the hoses. The scent was still there, keen from his memory, of zotic smoke mixed with lotions. Strawberries, slightly singed.
A moment of dizziness. He closed his eyes, focused against the goldenrod of the insides of his eyelids. Came back to himself quickly, to his relief.
He moved through the white room, dry for now, though the air was still humid as if the hot water pipes bled through the walls.
Beyond the next door were steps, winding and darkened, though lamps lit the way every few feet. He also saw a scratched and ancient elevator and decided not to take it. He knew only the route of the stairs and preferred to stay on familiar territory. He took them two at a time.
Light suddenly flooded the space. Someone entered a stairwell just one story above him. He saw the legs first. White pants, the uniform of the kitchens.
Khim froze. It was too late to go back down, and there was nowhere to hide.
The guy came into view—brown hair, dark eyes. Not Cody. “Hey,” he said, proceeding to move by.
“Hey,” Khim said, waiting.
The man turned. “You’re an android. What are you—?”
Khim grabbed the guy by the collar and banged his head against the wall. Not to kill. The guy tripped backward, and Khim also lost his balance. He righted himself after his own forehead hit the banister, letting the kitchen guy drop ungracefully to the next landing.
A light spoke.
Khim, are you all right?
He didn’t see a camera, but they could be hidden everywhere. He didn’t worry about that because Trev seemed to have all that covered.
He nodded to the air after putting his hand up to his forehead where he’d hit himself, coming away with a smear of red on his fingertips.
You have two more levels. The cameras are on a time loop I programmed. I don’t see anyone else. Go!
Khim went. Three steps in each leap this time. He came to a door that was ajar and entered a corridor with soft carpet he’d seen before. House of Xavier was to his right; the long hall to the elevator stretched to his left.
It’s quicker to go out my dad’s exit, said a lamp just inside the fancy foyer with the lion fountain, the podium, the sugary flowers.
Khim took a deep breath. He could do this.
He ran on the soft floor, silent and alone, toward the big arch that led to the room with the couches, the alcoves, the stage.
He tried not to see the velvet couch, so red and shining in the center of it all, but he couldn’t help it. It was right there. His nostrils flared under the metallic memory of blood and death, muscles tensed at the memory of terrible intrusions and the scent of that, too, all over him. Bitter-salt.
He tripped, and for a moment was flying through the air. Then he landed hard against a black couch, half falling on top of it.
Khim! said a chandelier. Are you okay?
Khim jumped up quickly. “I’m not usually so clumsy,” he said in irritation at himself.
He focused straight ahead and made it to the big office. The back door stood open. And another down a short hall. Trev’s work.
The hall led to a garage elevator.
From there it was too easy. He took the private elevator to the garage. He found the purple Collin. He got in and quickly disabled the tracker even as he hit the charge switch. When he took off, the double doors opened for him onto a street lined with buildings and tall commercial screens. It was dark out.
He realized his time sense was really messed up. He remembered turning down breakfast only a couple of hours ago.
When he was away from the building, his pilot skills settled in naturally, and he shot up into moonlit clouds. Then, and only then, did he take a breath.
He looked down through the floor window and saw Fire Town as if it were sinking away from him, falling toward the planet below. The town appeared as a conglomeration of lights, a city of stars and of lanterns, swaying gently in the night breeze.
For a split second, he waited for them to speak orders in Trev’s voice.
Then he flew on.
Chapter Twenty-nine
TREV’S PLANS did not come together exactly as he’d wishe
d. He had wanted to leave earlier, while the household slept, but he was not completely satisfied that he was ready until darkness fell and the stars came out like all-seeing eyes.
With huge relief, he’d gotten Khim out of the dungeon. Just knowing his friend was safe gave him a giant boost of confidence.
He waved Breq.
“You’re late,” complained his eldest brother, coming into Trev’s bedroom. “Dad’s already up. He’s going to expect you for breakfast.”
“Yes, at nine. It’s seven now. That’s enough time.”
Breq yawned. “Well, he never sleeps anyway.” His hair stuck up on one side. It was obvious he’d just gotten up. “So,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”
“I told you. Take your flier around to the back of the yard. Hover underneath the land where you can’t be seen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Breq looked skeptical.
“And here.” Trev handed him a chip. “This is the android I want. He doesn’t go on sale until Friday. There’s money in that account, but it vanishes on Saturday. You can’t use the chip after that or it could be traced.”
“What am I going to do with an android?”
“Nothing. He won’t even be there. You just tell the auction house that you have plans to obtain him later from another location. All you need are the papers in your name. Then you’re going to sign them over to me. Paper papers, not digital. I know it’s weird, but I want no online wave trail after that sale.”
“What are you going to do with two androids, then?” Breq raised his eyebrows.
Trev rolled his eyes. “None of your concern.”
“You know I’m doing all this at great risk.”
Trev was silent. Finally he said, “If I can pay you back one day, I will. Anything I can do. I promise.”
“No.” Breq took a deep breath. “It’s fine. I want to see you go. I want to see one of us best Dad for once in our lives.”
Trev smiled thinly. “Thanks.”
TREV WORE his tight-fitting black bodysuit, soaked to the skin.
Then, like a teenager, he went out his window, which he had rigged to unlock and stay silent. As he passed through, his bodysuit made him invisible.
Stupid security systems and their ideas about water not being intrusive had become his staple in lucky breaks.
He climbed from the second floor along the outside wall, using his agility to hang from window to window along the triangle-shaped mansion. He leaped between windows so his shadow would not be seen, clung to a piece of decorative framing, and dangled.
Then he jumped, caught the edge of another window, and dropped on cat feet to the porch roof. The porch was a wraparound, technically, but it did not reach the back of the house where his room was. So maneuvering there had become part of his route.
From the edge of the porch, he dangled silently, landing on the damp, springy grass of the backyard.
Just after he landed, he heard footsteps. Someone coming onto the porch right where he’d been hanging. He scrunched into a ball along the side of the house and held his breath.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the footsteps retreated.
The backyard waterfall splashed to his right. There was a long field of grass between it and a copse of trees. To reach those trees, Trev needed to be exposed for about three seconds.
He decided to count to five. If luck was with him and no one was looking in that exact direction, he’d be fine. But he had no way to know.
Finally he went, racing through the moonlight. His weirdly sculpted handheld invention with all its devices and wires and remotes bumped against his damp thigh. He reached the shadows of the trees and ducked down.
When he looked back at the house, the illuminated windows were yellow and square, showing no silhouettes, nothing. Good. No one had seen him.
He ran from tree to tree now, confidence growing. Little beds of flowers grew everywhere, seasoning the night. Above him, beyond scattered clouds, the stars winked with pride.
He reached the edge of the backyard after a short jog through beautiful, lush acreage. He could not see the force field, but he could hear its low hum. It ran about ten feet high and allowed small things through—birds and insects—but not humans. It was there as a security feature to keep people from accidentally falling over the edge of the island and into the air.
But now he wanted to go over the edge. He brought up his handheld contraption and fiddled with it, using a program he’d just designed to make a hole in the field.
“Hello,” said a melodic voice to his left.
Trev jumped back in shock. He had not seen her sitting by the rock in the grass. The darkness turned her shape into one of the bushes that edged the land.
Sonye stood and walked over to him. “That’s interesting.” She eyed the device and all its dangling parts. “Why are you wet?”
Trev stood, mouth agape.
Sonye was dressed in a dark suit that emphasized her leanness. Her black hair was loose and drifted in waves to her waist. Like Breq, like all his siblings, she could have been pretty if she didn’t wear her danger and fury on her face all the time. She wasn’t much bigger than Trev. She’d taught him how to fight dirty because of it. Size is not the only advantage. Not if you have a brain, she’d told him once.
Sonye continued to speak. “It’s a beautiful night. Not raining for a change. I went for a walk. Funny meeting you out here.”
Trev would never be able to take her on. If she wanted to, she could incapacitate him. If she went running back to the house now, he had maybe five minutes before all hell broke loose.
He decided he had nothing left to do but be honest. “I’m leaving.”
“I guessed.”
“Are you going to stop me?”
“This has nothing to do with me.”
“You’re right.”
“It’s about Khim, right?” Trev nodded. “I saw the way you were with him.”
Trev could not stop himself. “And?”
“And nothing. I’m just saying I saw. That’s all.”
“I need to make a hole in the field to get out.”
“Go ahead.” She had a strong voice, but it was inflectionless.
Trev began to work his program. It unnerved him to be watched, but the longer she stood there, the more he realized she wasn’t going to do anything.
When the hole was complete, he could see a thin pink line around the area he could breach.
He turned to Sonye. “Thank you for not stopping me.”
“Trev, this isn’t about you. It’s simply that I don’t care. If you get caught, so be it. If you don’t and Dad has a fit, I still don’t care. Not about him. Not about you.”
It was the strangest good-bye, and yet he had expected it. Dante had taken the heart from her somehow, more than he had the others. Possibly because she had been more sensitive than most as a child. But by age eight or nine, she’d gone cold. In some ways she reminded him of Khim.
Before Trev could respond, she turned and walked into the darkness under the grove of trees.
Trev watched her leave, then turned to face the tear in the force field. He approached it slowly. A little vertigo claimed him as he looked upon the world below, its dark clouds half obscuring the blurred glow of cities upon the ground. He could do this, he knew. But he had to put the distance to the planet out of his mind.
Slowly he lowered himself to the edge, sat with his feet dangling, then turned and positioned himself with his hands in the grass, his waist curved about the cliff. He’d studied the structure beforehand. There was a latticework that framed the land and kept back erosion below the root level. He reached down and found it, grasped it, and slowly lowered his body. The land was thick there, and he climbed down the lattice slowly, feet and hands having no trouble finding purchase. When he came to the bottom, his feet hung down and he had to rely only on handholds.
Finally he cam
e to the last section, his whole body swaying in the air now except for where his hands gripped. He cocked his head. Below the final edge, the machinery that operated the antigrav systems vibrated minimally. He could see sections of it—square boxes of metal, grids, computer systems, fans. It was simple technology, but there was a lot of it because there were many backup systems and fail-safes. It got its power from the air.
He let go with one hand and felt around for something to grab underneath where he hung. His knees bent as he kicked his feet for balance, felt nothing. He tried three more times. Nothing.
Trev took a deep breath, steadying himself. He could do this if he kept his panic at bay. He wasn’t even tired yet, but nerves were the biggest danger in this sort of situation.
He did not see or hear any fliers and wondered if Breq was even there yet, underneath the estate, and if so, could he even see Trev’s legs and body?
One more time he tried to reach for something on the bottom of the island that he could grab. Nothing.
He swung his hand upward for a handhold and hung, waiting. He had a good strong grip. He could wait awhile. But not forever.
Finally he heard the flier’s engine, soft on the night breeze, smelling faintly of ozone. He turned his head and saw it come up behind him, floating alongside his dangling body.
Through the open pilot’s window, Breq said, “What the fuck, Trev?”
Trev said, “Get it under me and open the moon roof.”
His brother cursed as he navigated the flier into position, hovering just below Trev. Trev looked down and felt one hand slip. The roof was open, but it was still too far away.
“Closer!” he yelled.
The flier moved up. It was still a long jump, and if he didn’t aim perfectly, he’d hit the sides and fly off into the air. His hand slipped some more.
Now or never, he thought. And let go.
He pulled his hands to his chest, kept his knees locked, and hoped the handheld attached to his belt didn’t get destroyed in this stunt.
His brother cursed again, and the edge of the roof brushed Trev’s thigh, his hip, then his shoulder as he fell. His feet touched leather as he slid the rest of the way inside. Then he stretched out his legs, felt the seat encase him, and turned to Breq.
The Android and the Thief Page 28