Griffin finally turned the photo around. There were over a dozen men and women grouped together, wearing large smiles and dressed in formal wear, but Quentin ignored them all after a glance. His eyes were drawn to the center of the picture where his father stood, hand frozen in mid-shake with Talbot, and just to the right of the councilman’s shoulder was Claire.

  Quentin had been holding the picture in his hands for a long minute, perusing every detail of her face. Claire was younger, no doubt about that, almost girlish in the photo, but there was also the amused smile lurking at the corner of her mouth that made her look older, the same expression he had seen a dozen times directed at him.

  “No wonder she didn’t want to tell me her name,” Quentin said numbly.

  “That would be my guess as well,” Griffin intoned. “It took me a moment to recognize her from the image you projected on the screen in my lab. Once I did, I needed to make certain.”

  He pointed at the picture frame in Quentin’s hands.

  “I have no doubt that is her,” he said.

  Quentin could only nod, not trusting his voice at the moment.

  “Son,” his father interrupted the bombardment of thoughts. “Erasing someone from the database is no easy task. It takes knowledge of the system, but more than that, it takes someone with access and clearance…the highest clearance. Do you understand where I’m going with this?”

  Quentin looked up, the confusion starting to clear like mist in the early afternoon.

  “Councilman Talbot,” he muttered.

  Griffin’s lips grew thin. He nodded curtly, once, in affirmation.

  “I’m afraid so. He’s the only one who could approve something like this.”

  Quentin was in shock. He didn’t know what to think. The revelations whirled around in his head, buffeting his emotions about like debris in the funnel of a tornado. And then a sense of dread began to encroach upon his consciousness, slowly at first, then suffusing his entire being with its fearful tendrils.

  “Do you think…do you think she’s dead?” he stammered.

  His father took a long breath and then let it out slowly.

  “I honestly don’t know, Son, but I do know that confronting Talbot about it will not get us the answers we need…and it might be dangerous as well.”

  “So what do we do?” Quentin asked desperately.

  There was a long pause.

  “Councilwoman Misao Egbert.”

  “Who?”

  “I told you,” Griffin replied. “She’s the one Talbot is going to appoint tomorrow. Once she is sworn in, all clearances will be transferred to her. She will be our best bet to find your friend Claire.”

  The Plan

  “I killed my husband, it’s true. I took his life and didn’t hesitate…but that doesn’t mean I’ll kill for you, or anyone else.”

  It was the first thing she’d said in an hour.

  Mia may have sat unbound in the steel chair, but she was a prisoner, locked in a room down a long corridor off of the main trade hub with only Chase for company. It was a dingy broom-closet of a room that probably hadn’t been used in a century. The walls were grimy with whatever the air vents had been pumping in over all this time, and the only furniture were four chairs around a rusty rectangular folding table that looked ready to collapse under the weight of dust. Overhead was a small lamp that cast a sickly yellow light, which flickered every ten seconds or so, emitting a ratcheting buzzing sound that was maddening if you focused on it for too long.

  Chase sat in the chair next to her, the swelling in her nose already having gone down. She unfolded her arms from across her chest and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

  “Look, Bear has a flair for the dramatic, there’s no doubt about that, and people might get hurt on this but I don’t think anyone’s going to die.”

  “Hurt on what, exactly?” Mia queried, unconsciously dropping her voice to a whisper. “What is he planning to do?”

  Chase frowned, but it seemed more self-deprecating rather than aimed at Mia.

  “I talk too much, Bear always says. So does everyone else; don’t know when to keep my trap shut.”

  She smirked at this, defiantly so.

  “Well, I like it,” Mia said reflexively without thinking.

  Chase gave her a certain look that made the heat rise in her cheeks.

  “I mean, I haven’t talked to anyone this much in years. I’ve almost forgotten what a real conversation is like. Tom…”

  She paused. Was there a feeling of guilt there, perhaps a bit of regret? No, there was only an emptiness that stared back at her when she looked inside.

  “My husband wasn’t much for talking,” she continued. “At least, not after my accident.”

  The flippant smirk disappeared from Chase’s face. Mia had told her story with as little aplomb as was possible, when they had her bound and lying on the recycling plant floor in judgment for her life; skating over the emotional baggage she had carried all these years, the self-loathing, the pity, the resentment. She had lain out the story point by point, the accident, the drinking, Tom’s deception and eventual confession, and of course, his death by her hands. But Chase was a woman as well, and the expression on her face showed that she had read between the lines.

  Since she was still alive, Mia guessed that Bear had been just as perceptive.

  “I’m sorry,” Chase said, nodding towards Mia’s belly.

  There was no need for clarification.

  “It’s okay,” Mia replied, though it had never been okay before, not until this moment.

  She wondered why that was so.

  “Your hand,” Chase pointed. “What’s wrong with it?”

  For a moment, Mia had no idea what she was referencing. When it did occur to her she looked down at her hand and the dirty bandage still wrapped around it.

  “Oh…it’s a little damaged.”

  “Did you get in a fight?”

  “Kind of,” Mia responded. “With a tree.”

  Chase broke into a smile, which prompted Mia to do the same, and then something happened that hadn’t happened in a very long time; Mia laughed. It was brief and more of a breathy chuckle, but it was the sweetest feeling she had known in forever.

  “Let me see that,” Chase said, scooting her chair closer and grasping Mia’s wrist gently.

  She lifted it and began to unwind the bandage. Mia stiffened at the touch and almost pulled her hand back, but Chase was tender and her smile was reassuring, not threatening.

  “Yep,” she affirmed when the bandage was completely off. “Just as I thought; the tree won.”

  Mia shrugged.

  “Yeah, well, it was my first fight,” she confessed, grinning.

  Chase laid the arm, palm down on her own leg, and reached into the pocket at her thigh. She withdrew a roll of gauze.

  “You get a lot of scrapes around here working with the machines,” she said, before picking up Mia’s wrist again. “Can’t tell you how many scars I have.”

  She began to wrap her wrist with the gauze, firmly yet still with that same gentleness that felt so foreign to Mia.

  “There,” Chase said, tucking the last bit of gauze in. “It’s not fixed but it looks better.”

  “Thank you,” Mia replied, fully aware that Chase was still holding her hand in between hers.

  There was a slight quickening of her heart that was both confusing and titillating.

  “I..”

  What she started to say she wasn’t exactly certain. It was just as well, because at that moment they both heard footfalls close to the door.

  Chase broke the contact, scooting her chair back and folding back up, arms crossed, legs as well at the heels. She held up a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture then gave a sly wink. A second later the door opened.

  Bear’s massive frame filled the door. His name was quite appropriate, Mia decided, when she looked up at him from her seat.

  She still felt the blush of heat on her cheeks, and it appeared from his gaze that Bear might be noticing it as well. Mia, in an attempt to deflect attention, stood and addressed him with annoyance.

  “I’ve been in here for an hour. This is not the best way to get my help.”

  Bear’s inspection turned into a scowl.

  “Follow me.”

  In the hallway he addressed her over his shoulder.

  “I have some friends we’re going to meet. Good people, but they’re frightened. When people get frightened they act rashly, so don’t go in there with attitude and ruffling everyone’s feathers.”

  “What does that mean?” Mia queried.

  “What does what mean?”

  “Ruffling feathers.”

  Bear paused and half-turned, perhaps wondering if she was pulling his leg. When he decided she was genuine, he replied.

  “It’s an expression…has to do with birds.”

  “I’ve never seen a real bird,” she confessed.

  “Well…neither have I. Nonetheless, it’s an expression that means pissing someone off.”

  “I see. Don’t piss them off.”

  Mia could almost feel Chase grinning behind her, but she kept a straight face.

  Bear grunted then turned and continued leading the way.

  A left would have taken them back to the trade hub, but Bear turned right instead. Thirty yards down they took another right and a minute later the hallway came to an end at a door.

  When they entered, Mia realized it was some sort of monitoring station. There were 3D projected screens along the walls and desks beneath them, but no one was manning them. While the screens looked to be displaying the trade routes that ran through and out of the city, there appeared to be no activity whatsoever, which explained away the empty desks.

  There were also about twenty people there, many standing, but some leaning against the walls. They wore grim expressions and all conversation had stopped the moment Mia entered the room.

  A tall, wiry bald man separated from the pack and stepped forward.

  “Who the hell is this?” he angrily retorted.

  Bear looked down at the man, which was easy, since he was at least half a foot taller.

  “A friend.”

  “You didn’t talk to us about no friend,” the man nearly spat.

  Mia could hear the rumblings from little pockets in the room.

  Bear stepped closer, looming over him. The man backed up a step and lowered his voice.

  “It’s just…people are nervous enough as it is,” he explained.

  “I understand, and I’m sorry, Frank,” Bear replied, being magnanimous now. “But we need all the help we can get, and she’s tough.”

  This acknowledgement seemed to subdue the grumblings in the room.

  “Does she know what we’re doing, where we’re going?”

  “Not yet. I’ll fill her in when it’s time. Right now I need to hear some good news.”

  Frank leaned forward, lowering his voice, though it was obvious they were all conspirators in this.

  “We think we know where they’re being held.”

  Bear frowned.

  “You think?”

  “I told you,” Frank said defensively. “They wiped the records. All I was able to find was a saved log of two extra cars being loaded onto the Maglev-Train in the East Tunnel that day, non-stop to the Red Zone.”

  “The Red Zone?”

  Frank nodded grimly.

  “How sure are you?” Bear asked.

  “I’m not,” Frank confided. “But we didn’t have any cargo going there that day, that’s for certain.”

  “Damn. That’s going to make it a lot more difficult.”

  The two men moved over to one of the virtual screens. Bear put on a glove and pair of glasses and manipulated one of them, blowing up a blueprint, sliding along the branches until he came to a section that was blocked off, labeled “Red Zone”.

  Mia, watching this transpire, was suddenly struck by the familiarity of what she was looking at. She stepped forward, and was almost immediately blocked by several people. Ignoring them, she craned her neck to get a better view.

  Chase was at her elbow almost immediately.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she hissed.

  “That map, the tunnels,” Mia explained. “I know that place.”

  Bear heard this and stopped. He turned to look at her.

  “Let her by,” he commanded.

  The men and women stepped aside. Mia brushed past them and went directly to the screen.

  “Go back,” she instructed.

  Bear gave her a queer look but she wasn’t paying attention. With a flick of his hand the blueprint trailed back.

  “Stop right there,” she said quietly.

  Mia stared at the display in growing astonishment.

  “Do you know this place?” Bear asked.

  “I should,” she replied. “That used to be my home.”

  Bear had dismissed all of them, even Chase, after Mia confirmed the familiar parts of the blueprint. She was a bit surprised by her recollection of it all, but it wasn’t that astonishing, considering her father had known the bowels of the sanctuary better than almost anyone. Being an engineer who designed motors for the giant machines, he was constantly in one place or another. Since he was the best, he was also given access to areas that were usually reserved for security clearances above his grade. Though Mia never accompanied him to the ‘Red Zone’, she had been almost everywhere else, not to mention she knew exactly where the four access points were.

  “The main entrance is the trade tunnel, as I’m sure you know,” she informed Bear, pointing out the line on the display. “There’s the checkpoint where all the trains come in. What you might not know is if a train is flagged they have a special inspection team that boards and confirms the cargo before they switch to the Red Zone tunnel; always incoming shipments but never the outgoing.”

  She pointed to a blank space at the end of the trade depot.

  “I don’t see anything there,” Bear grumbled.

  “Of course you don’t. You need a special security clearance to even access that tunnel, which I’m betting you don’t have.”

  Bear grunted his response.

  Mia continued, tracing another line to a big open space, frowning with the realization that these blueprints were less than the bare bones.

  “This here is the other main entrance. It’s through the original facility, which is like the hub since almost all points of the sanctuary are accessible from there. You’ll know it when you see it. The buildings are ancient, and oddly enough, sit on giant springs.”

  “Springs?”

  “It’s not important,” Mia said offhandedly.

  Her father had told her when she was young that the buildings were built on springs, so if their sanctuary was bombarded, the buildings wouldn’t collapse. She had wondered what kind of bombs could make a mountain shake, but found she didn’t really want to know.

  “There are elevators all over the place that can get you to the main lower levels, but there are only two main elevators that will get you to the Red Zone: one is for civilians and the other is a giant cargo lift for moving massive machines and parts.”

  She pointed to two ends of the giant chamber.

  “Of course it’s guarded, and even if it wasn’t you need clearance to access those levels.”

  “What kind?” Bear interrupted.

  “What else?” Mia shrugged. “Quantum signature.”

  “And the last entrance?”

  Mia stepped away from the display.

  “The last one is your best bet,” she confessed.

  Bear, still staring at the screen, didn’t notice she had stepped away.

  “And where is that one?”

  When Mia didn’t reply, he turned to look at her.

  “Well…where is it?”

  “That depends,” Mia said.

  “The hell does that mean?” Bear said, irritated.

  “It means if you want to know where that last entrance is, you need to tell me why you’re going there.”

  Bear stepped away from the display screen towards her.

  “What difference is it to you?”

  She neither stepped back nor appeared intimidated. His burliness didn’t frighten her as it did others.

  “That used to be my home,” she replied evenly. “I had friends there, family once. You said people could die, or might be killed. I want to know why.”

  Bear took another step closer.

  “I could get the information out of you.”

  Mia surprised herself by sneering at him.

  “There’s nothing you could do to me that hasn’t been done already.”

  Bear towered over her for a moment longer, his visage grim and threatening, and then did something completely unexpected.

  He grinned.

  “I knew I was right to bring you,” he said, nodding with self-proclamation.

  Mia didn’t budge in her stance.

  “That isn’t an answer.”

  This time Bear laughed, not with condescension but with real humor.

  “Ok,” he said when finished, the grin still partially there. “Fair is fair. Come with me.”

  He walked past her and headed to the door.

  “Where are we going?” Mia asked, caught off guard by the sudden change in course.

  “To see a man with a story.”

  They headed back to the main trade hub, the near deafening noise of the pumps like giant flatulent machines, but didn’t stay there for long. They took another tunnel, this one built for a Maglev-Train, soon leaving the sound far behind. In fact, the two walked so long that Mia began to realize how incredibly exhausted she was, not to mention hungry. She couldn’t recall the last time she ate something, and even though she could go for much longer without sustenance, she suddenly craved food, and not just any food, but pie.

  It was ironic, perhaps, since the last she had seen pie had been the day she had meted out violence for the very first time, and here she was concerned about further violence; nonetheless, it was all she could do to push aside the powerful urge and focus on what was happening in the moment.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17