She offered the CL to Jared. “Want to try?”
“Sure.” He went through the same process of entering his information to verify his identity, and they all watched as his results appeared. No match. Zira wasn’t sure if she was reading his expression correctly, but she thought she saw just the faintest hint of disappointment in his dark eyes as he handed the CL back to Alma.
“It’s still a pretty new system,” Alma said. “You could try again in a few months. Maybe they just haven’t tried to log in yet.”
“You said it tells people where their family members ended up,” said Jared. “You mean who we are, what unit we were in, all of that?”
“That’s right.”
He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, then turned to Zira with a shrug. The gesture said everything she was already thinking. Maybe their families decided they didn’t want to meet the children they’d lost when they found out those children had grown up to be killers.
As Alma slipped her CL back over her wrist, a sudden idea prompted Zira to call out to her. “Wait.”
“What?”
Zira chewed on her bottom lip. It was a stupid idea, and it wouldn’t change anything, no matter what the results said. But now that she’d thought of it, she wouldn’t be able to let it go until she found out. She stared at the floor, not wanting to see the looks on the others’ faces when she voiced her question. “Is there any way you could look up Aubreigh in there?”
“I’ll try. I’m not sure if my security clearance will let me override the system, but let’s see.”
Zira kept her eyes down. She didn’t want to watch as Alma entered her dead friend’s information, or see the spinning pyramid that would tell her whether Aubreigh’s family had tried to find her. What was she supposed to do with that knowledge, anyway? Maybe she should have just left it alone.
The seconds ticked by as if they were hours, but finally, Alma spoke again. “I found her.”
Zira looked up. A photo of Aubreigh greeted her, and she felt like she’d just been slammed in the chest by a bus. It was the first time she’d seen Aubreigh’s face since she died. She no longer had any pictures of them together, just memories stored away in her head where she hoped they wouldn’t change or fade away. But the Aubreigh in the photo already looked different than the one in her mind. Her smile seemed bigger, and she looked younger, though the picture might have been taken a few years before her execution. Zira made a mental note to download a copy for herself when she had the opportunity.
Her eyes scanned the information to the right of the photo. Aubreigh, unit A. Birth name, Harmony Foster. Born December 3, 2103. Died March 15, 2124. Family contact requested. See additional notes.
Zira tapped the highlighted notes section to read what had been written there.
I know my daughter is dead, but my children and I would love to find out more about her life and what she was like. If there’s anyone out there who knew her and would be willing to talk to us, please pass on our information. (Entered by Sam Foster, biological father. Logged August 27, 2124, 10:27 AM)
Zira stared at the note, feeling frozen in both body and mind. It was written to her. She knew Aubreigh better than anyone else. She could give her family the answers they wanted. Or, at the very least, she could try. Aubreigh would have wanted that. Had she been alive, she wouldn’t have hesitated to get in contact with her biological family herself.
She should reach out, but just the thought of doing so raised every defensive barrier she’d ever constructed around her heart. It wasn’t her job to tell Sam Foster and his other children about the kind of person Aubreigh had been. They weren’t even her family, not really. Aubreigh had been Zira’s friend, Zira’s sister, and when she died, it was Zira who had suffered all the pain that came from losing her. She didn’t owe these strangers anything.
She turned away from the projection.
Alma switched it off. “Seth sent them a message, I think. If you wanted to—”
“Thanks,” Zira said curtly. She didn’t need anyone lecturing her on what she should or could do. She’d already made up her mind. Better if she just put the whole thing behind her and moved on. She had a job to do, and sentimental concerns like this were just useless distractions.
The car fell silent. Zira kept her eyes fixed on the road passing by outside her window, and the monotonous pattern of white lines flying by against the black asphalt eventually drove every other thought from her mind.
* * *
The sky was already dark by the time their plane landed at the airport near Liberation, the name the Republic had given to what had once been Salt Lake City after adopting it as the nation’s new capital. Although military installations nearby had been destroyed during the war, damage to the city itself had been far less severe. Much of the old infrastructure remained intact, and the Republic had done what they could to renovate the areas that needed it most. The end result was that Liberation was now a thriving hub of emerging democracy that looked somewhat historic but felt modern and full of new energy.
They drove to a home that was owned by the Republic and used to house government employees. As Alma explained, two of the other people assigned to Zira’s team were already living there. The rest would be introduced when they went in to work the next morning.
The house itself was an old, brick structure that appeared to have been well-kept over the years. White-frosted evergreen shrubs lined the driveway, and the front porch and ground-floor windows were still lit in anticipation of their arrival. They all got out of the car, and Zira, Tripp, and Jared retrieved their belongings from the trunk before following Alma up to the entrance.
She knocked twice, and a face peeped out of the glass semi-circle cut into the top of the door. A young woman opened it to let them in. Freckles dusted her pale skin under wide brown eyes, and her blonde, pixie-cut hair gave her a tomboyish appearance. She motioned them inside with a shy smile. “Come in.”
Alma stomped the snow off her boots and entered the house. “Hey Nova,” she said as the others followed. “I brought you some roommates.”
Tripp extended a hand to greet her. “I’m Tripp. Nice to meet you.”
“This is Jared and Zira,” said Alma, and they each took turns shaking Nova’s hand. “Zira is going to be your new team leader starting tomorrow morning. Don’t let her start bossing you around until then.”
Nova nodded but didn’t say anything else, and any further conversation was interrupted by footsteps jogging down the stairs just behind her. A broad-shouldered young man with dark hair and a square face descended. He looked around at everyone and flashed a boyish grin as he came to join their group. “You must be the experts Alma told us about. I’m Cedric Davis. Let’s see, I think I caught everyone’s name.” He pointed to each of them in turn. “Zira, Jared, and Tripp, right?”
Tripp nodded. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“Cedric and Nova ran transports for the rebellion at the same time you and I did,” Alma said. “You may have crossed paths a few times. Cedric and I go way back, actually. We joined the rebellion together, back when he was just a wide-eyed kid who spent too much time hanging around my punk brother.”
Recognition brightened Tripp’s eyes. “Oh, that Cedric! Alma’s told me about you before. It’s nice to formally meet you.”
“You too.”
“If you guys are all set here, I’ll head out and let you get settled in,” Alma said. “Cedric and Nova can bring you in to the office tomorrow morning. We don’t make a big deal out of the dress code, but don’t be slobs and try to look at least somewhat professional.”
“Sounds good,” said Zira. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Buenas noches.”
She left them there holding everything they owned as they stood in the entryway of a house they now shared with two strangers. An awkward silence hung in the air, but Cedric quickly dispelled it. “I just finished getting your rooms ready. If you come with me, I’ll
show you. The house is pretty big, so we each have our own. Nova and I are down here, and then you guys can have the ones upstairs.”
They followed him up to the second level and around the corner, and he gestured to two doors that faced each other on either side of the hallway. “We figured Jared and Tripp could be here. You guys can fight it out for whichever one you want. And Zira, we put you down at the end of the hall in the master suite. I hope that’s okay.”
The subtle deference his voice reminded Zira of the way she used to talk to Ryku, with all due respect for his authority. Hearing that tone directed at her as their new team leader was strange, and she faltered for a moment before coming up with the appropriate response. “That will be fine. Thank you.”
“If you need anything else, just ask,” Cedric said. “Nova and I usually try to leave here by 7:30 every morning, so I guess we’ll see you then.”
They all thanked him, then bid each other goodnight and went to their rooms. Zira’s eyes widened when she opened her door. The plush carpet from the hall extended across the entire floor of the room, which was almost twice the size of the motel room she’d been living in for the past few weeks and significantly larger than the cell that had been her home in the months prior. The bed was even bigger than the one she’d had at the compound, and a definite upgrade from both the worn motel mattress and the thin sheet of foam she’d slept on in prison.
She dropped her bag on the floor and fell back onto the bed with her arms outstretched, relishing the simple pleasure of its soft, warm comfort. It was too comfortable, maybe, but she wasn’t about to start complaining now. After everything that had happened to her over the past year, things finally appeared to be looking up, and she was content to enjoy it while it lasted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next morning, after a hot shower and some breakfast Cedric made for everyone, Zira got into a car with Jared, Tripp, and their two new roommates. The day was cold and gray, and she watched the city pass by outside her window while the others made small talk. She didn’t participate in the conversation much herself, content as usual to blend into the background and quietly observe. Nova seemed to share that sentiment, allowing the other three to carry most of the discussion and only responding when she was spoken to directly.
“The new constitution is up for ratification in a few more days,” Cedric said. “Have you guys all registered to vote yet?”
Jared laughed a little. “No. The whole fugitive thing made it seem like a bad idea.”
“Well, you should, now that you’re not on the run anymore. Tripp?”
“I should have,” he replied, “but no. I’ve…been a little preoccupied lately.”
“We all have,” Zira said before Cedric could turn the question over to her.
“Oh, that’s no excuse,” he said amicably. “I mean, that’s what we fought for, right? We wanted to make this country better. That’s what the new constitution is all about. If we don’t support it, how can we expect everyone else to?”
Nova elbowed him in the side and looked pointedly at Zira.
His face went red. “Er…no offense intended, of course.”
“None taken.” She resumed staring out the window to hide her mild amusement. This was so weird. She’d never intimidated anyone before. Quite the opposite, actually. Her small stature and youthful appearance made it hard to get people to even take her seriously sometimes, and while she’d used that to her advantage on more than one occasion, it was refreshing to have someone’s respect without having to fight for it for once in her life.
On a more serious note, Cedric did have a point. Zira’s reasons for joining the rebellion had more to do with protecting the people she cared about than changing the country for the better, and she’d never given much thought to everything that would come after. Aubreigh had, though. Aubreigh had fought for the after. And now that it was here, Aubreigh was gone and Zira remained. She could almost hear her friend’s voice in the back of her mind, gently berating her for wasting the freedom that had been so hard-won. Maybe this constitution didn’t matter to Zira as much as it should have, but it would have mattered to Aubreigh. She made a mental note to look into voter registration when she had a spare minute.
The car slowed and turned into a parking lot splayed out in front of a large, concrete building. Numerous windows reflected the dawn light into Zira’s face as she stepped out of the vehicle, and she shielded her eyes against the brightness. Black letters affixed over the entrance read, “American National Security Department.”
“Here we are,” Cedric said as he led them up to the front door. “This place used to be a joint distribution center and regional law enforcement office. We were pretty lucky to get such a nice building, especially after we had to fight the Treasury Department for it.”
He held the door open for them and they walked inside. The numerous windows all around the building allowed natural light to pour in, and the lobby they entered had a simple, elegant flair with white tile floors and tall, square pillars that reached up to the vaulted ceiling. Two bots stood on either side of a security checkpoint and scanned them as they walked through. Tripp, Jared, and Zira had apparently already been put into the system, as the bots let them pass without any trouble.
They stepped into an elevator, and Nova hit the button for the seventh floor. A digital sign above the doors shifted from a generic welcome message to an indication that they were headed to the Special Investigations and Operations division.
“Welcome to SIO,” said Cedric as the elevator doors slid open. They stepped out and found themselves standing in a wide, well-lit space filled with sleek desks, holographic projections, and display screens. A few private offices with glass walls lined the perimeter of the area, and Zira spotted Alma sitting behind a desk in the center one. As Cedric led them there through a maze of workstations, Zira was painfully aware of the dozens of pairs of eyes that followed them.
She held her head high and scanned the room as they walked, noting the diversity among her new coworkers. There were just as many women as there were men, some were young and others were old, and there were multiple ethnicities represented among them. Some were more sharply dressed in suits, ties, and well-shined shoes while others took a more casual approach to their appearance. A few smiled at Zira when she met their gaze. Others frowned or looked away. If they had one thing in common, it was the shared interest they seemed to take in the new arrivals, staring and even whispering to each other as Zira and the others passed by.
Behind her, Jared whispered to Tripp. “How many of these people do you think want to see me arrested or dead right now?”
Tripp gave a soft chuckle. “Probably most of them. But they’ll change their minds. I did.”
At least those two were getting along.
Alma glanced up from her work when they neared her office and walked out to greet them. “Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the rest of your team.”
She led the way past several rows of workstations and approached a trio of individuals who seemed to be doing nothing but standing around. A willowy man with tawny skin ran his hand over his neatly-trimmed black beard. Beside him, a taller man with a luminous smile and dreadlocks bound back in a ponytail gestured animatedly as he spoke. He looked approximately the same age as Zira and Jared, while the bearded man appeared several years older. Unlike the rest of the people in the office, they both seemed too caught up in their conversation to notice the approaching newcomers.
The third individual was a woman in her late thirties who wore her hair in a thick, black braid. She stood by with crossed arms and a stoic expression on her narrow face. A burn scar climbed up the right side of her neck from under the collar of her shirt, ending just above her jawline. She watched the group trailing behind Alma with shrewd, dark eyes.
“What are you two vagos doing, just standing around telling jokes?” Alma called out to the two men. They immediately straightened as she went on scolding them in Spanish. The w
oman with the braid smirked.
The thinner, bearded man gave them all a sheepish look and raised a hand to wave.
“Hey boss,” said the man with the dreadlocks. “We were just waiting for everyone. Didn’t want to get started without our new teammates. We’d hate for them to feel left out on their first day.”
“I’m sure,” Alma said with a shake of her head. She gestured to the first man. “This is Salim al-Atrash, one of our most talented investigators. And this smooth-talking gentleman is Terrence Dodge.”
“Just Dodge,” he said with a wide grin.
Alma motioned to the woman still standing with her arms crossed. “That’s Josefina Mendoza. I’m sad to say she’s probably the only useful one in this bunch, but she makes up for most of what the others are lacking.”
“Ouch,” Dodge said with dramatically feigned indignation. “See if I ever bring you coffee in the morning again.”
“I don’t see any coffee today,” Alma retorted, then resumed making introductions. “These are the experts I promised you. This is Tripp, your new technical support specialist. He used to be my partner, and he probably knows more about the Project than just about anyone else here, so try to pay attention when he tells you something. I’m sure you all recognize Jared, and you’re aware of the arrangement we made to bring him here. If anyone in this office has a problem with that, you shut it down or send them to me.”
Dodge nodded to Jared. “Sure thing. We’ve got your back.”
Alma stepped to the side to give them all a clearer view of Zira, who was standing just behind her. “And this is Zira. She’ll be serving as your new team leader.”
Zira waited for it—the disappointment on their faces, the questioning doubt at how someone like her could possibly lead a special operations team. She waited for the same expressions she’d seen on the faces of her peers at every turn as she rose through the Project’s training program and began completing her own assignments.
But those looks didn’t come. Had she changed that much, or was it something else that prevented them from instantly doubting her? Something about them, maybe, or something Alma had told them about her.
Survivors of PEACE Page 10