Okay?
"You okay?" Sketchy asked Original Cindy when she arrived back at Jam
Pony. "You look like you saw a ghost."
Cindy just looked at him. There was no way she could tell him. He
wouldn't understand. She didn't understand it herself. But he was
looking at her, and she had to have some sort of answer...
"She almost get hit by some car up the block," Herbal told Sketchy,
then turned to Cindy. "You all good?"
Original Cindy managed to smile. "Yeah, Original Cindy's all good,"
she replied.
"You need to be more careful," Normal said, pointing at her. "Bip, bip
--" The scowl she cast at him from over crossed arms made his usual
saying trail off into oblivion. "What?"
"Didn't we have an understanding about you and that phrase?" Original
Cindy demanded.
"I remember no such agreement," Normal said, in a way that
demonstrated he did remember, all too well. "I do remember an
agreement on tipping, so hand it over."
"Excuse me?" Original Cindy demanded.
"The way you jumped on that delivery this morning, obviously the guy's
a good tipper."
"The guy's a old friend. He didn't give me no money," Original Cindy
said, disgusted at the accusation.
"I didn't realize you had old guy friends," Normal said.
Original Cindy waved her hand and rolled her eyes, dismissing him.
Normal sent Sketchy and Herbal out on deliveries, and once again it
settled over her what she'd seen.
It had definitely been Max.
_ _ _
"Hey, buddy. Thanks for the tryptophan," Logan said, on the phone with
Sebastian later that day.
"Is there any way I can help?" Sebastian offered.
"Know anything about a plot to set off some nukes within a fairly
short timeframe?" Logan inquired. "I've got bits and pieces, but I
don't have the whole puzzle."
"What about the May 22 Movement?" Sebastian asked.
"They broke up after the death of their --" Logan began, but Sebastian
was shaking his head. "They're still around?"
"I've heard rumors. And they're not as squeamish under new
management," Sebastian reported.
"Anything substantiated?" Logan asked.
"I'll work on it."
"Thanks," Logan said, and hung up. There was a pounding on the door.
"It's Grand Central station in here," he muttered to himself, going
to answer it. Original Cindy stood there. "Didn't expect to see you
again."
"You lied to Original Cindy," she said.
"I what?" This took Logan by surprise. He didn't lie to anyone.
"You said Max was dead," Original Cindy accused. "I'm sure you thought
it was all real funny."
"No, I didn't," Logan said seriously. "What's this about?"
"I saw her."
"Max?" His shocked tone drew an interested look from Cindy.
"You didn't know?" she asked, not sure whether she believed it or
not.
"I heard a rumor."
"And?" Cindy prompted.
"And, I don't know. It's impossible," he said. Yet, he'd seen her on
the video. "You saw her?"
Original Cindy nodded. "This afternoon, on Market Street. Damn near
ran me down in some big-ass truck. Barely even stopped."
"Max tried to hit you in a car?"
"You doubtin' everything I'm sayin'?" Cindy demanded. "Fess up.
Everything. Now." Logan continued to hesitate. "You can start with
who that white girl was this morning."
"Max's sister," Logan blurted.
"You're disgusting. Men are *disgusting,*" Cindy declared.
"It's not like that," said Logan. "She was having seizures."
"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Her eyebrow went up.
"Seizures like Max had," Logan explained. "She showed up here
yesterday with information and a tape. I've only just begun trying to
verify it."
"Where is she now?"
"She took off."
"Figures," Original Cindy said. She met Logan's eyes. "If that was
Max, we have to find her."
"I know," he said. "But it's more complicated than that."
"How complicated?" Cindy asked. "Like the stuff that got her killed
complicated," she answered her own question. "Call me. I'll be there.
Max's my girl."
"I know."
"Lie to me again and I'll kick your skinny white ass," Cindy
threatened.
"Understood," Logan confirmed.
_ _ _
"Well done, X5-452," Renfro said, facing Max from across the desk in
her office back at Manticore. "I knew you had it in you, soldier."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," Max replied.
"Sit down," Renfro said, and Max did as she was told. It was all a cat
and mouse game. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
"No, ma'am," Max reported. Renfro waited. Max said nothing.
"I want to know where the others are."
"I don't know that," Max said. She was surprised it had taken this
long for the question to come up. Although she had been questioned
before, under sedation, during her recovery. Not by the bitch in
charge, though.
"Come on, Max," she wheedled invitingly. "You know this is the best
place for them."
Max refused to say anything.
"They could be sick, like Brin was. If you tell us where they are, we
can help them."
"I don't know where they are," Max said again.
"What about the others with you that night?" Renfro pressed. "You must
know how to contact them."
"Only Zack knew," Max said. "And he took that information with him to
the grave." Her voice was cold. There was only so far she'd allow
herself to be pushed.
"And after he gave you so much, Max?" Renfro said. As much as Max
hated being referred to as a number, she hated it more when that
woman referred to them by name. Max just glared at her, prepared to
sit there and glare until the end of time, if necessary. "You may
go."
Max stood and straightened her uniform, then reached for the
doorknob.
"I will find them, X5-452," Renfro cautioned.
"Yes, ma'am," Max replied, and returned to the dorm, since it was
after lights- out already. She undressed quickly and slipped into her
bed.
"You came back," Eva whispered.
"I had to," Max replied. But she frowned as she whispered it. Maybe
she shouldn't have come back. Maybe she should have run when she had
the chance. But her debt hadn't been paid. She had the opportunity to
completely destroy Manticore from the inside out. She wanted to get
the others out. She wanted to kill Renfro. Make sure Manticore was
good and truly dead. And the only way to do that was from the
inside.
_ _ _
Logan got the name of the new leader of the May 22 Movement from
Sebastian. And wasn't it funny how terrorist organizations had listed
telephone numbers -- especially organizations that supposedly
eschewed technology. But then, May 22 had always been more concerned
with the way that technology was used. "I want to meet with someone,"
Logan said.
"You're not one of us," the man who answered the phone said.
"No," Logan confirmed. "I'm a journalist. I can help you tell your
story to the world."
"Last time you offered to help us tell our story, five of our people
ended up dead, including John Darius."
"Last time, you also tried to throw me off the roof of a very tall
building," Logan pointed out. "I'm willing to overlook it."
"Why now?"
"I've got some information that indicates it might be in your best
interest to get your story out there in the next couple of weeks," he
said, letting them know that he knew what was going to happen.
"I see."
"I thought you might," Logan said.
"Hold please."
Logan took a deep breath while he was waiting. It always had to be
complicated, he thought. If May 22 just wanted to destroy Manticore,
that would be fine. But no, they had to decide to destroy all
technology, just when things were beginning to work again. And he had
to save Max. Logan would defend Manticore until his dying day if it
meant seeing Max again, safe and sound, no matter how much he
disagreed with their principles.
"We'll meet in the City Gardens in one hour. And come alone, Mr.
Cale," the voice on the other end of the telephone line cooed before
the call disconnected.
One hour. Not much time.
_ _ _
Original Cindy went from Logan's to Crash. She could use a drink after
that conversation. Sketchy and Herbal and the others were there, and
it was comfortable to sit down with them and have a brew.
"Check that out," Sketchy said, nudging Herbal. Then he looked at
Original Cindy. "Hell, you'd be interested too."
"Mmm-hmm, sugar," Cindy muttered, although she hadn't had much use for
pretty girls since she'd lost Diamond and Max all in the same month.
But she turned and looked anyway.
Leather pants, little red top. Long blond ponytail cascading down her
back. "Sweet," Sketchy declared.
"I know that bitch," Original Cindy declared, getting up.
Sketchy turned to Herbal. "Why are the good ones always gay?" he
demanded.
"Hey. You," Original Cindy marched over to Jondy, who turned and gave
her a cool look. "Logan's looking for you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jondy said, turning back to
the bartender. "I've got experience," she said to him. "I'm a hard
worker."
"You're applying for a job?" Original Cindy demanded.
"A girl's got to pay the rent," Jondy informed her. "So, we have a
deal?"
The bartender looked from Cindy to Jondy and back again, and shook his
head.
"Maybe Seattle's not the place for me after all," Jondy said easily,
turning from the bar and heading straight for the door.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," Cindy said. She wasn't about to go trailing
after some girl. But Jondy didn't stop walking. "I saw Max," she
said.
"You're lying." Jondy didn't even pause.
"Logan needs your help."
"Oh, didn't you ask him? Logan doesn't need anyone," Jondy said. She
had Max's same sarcastic streak, Cindy noted. And she also possibly
had Max's crush on the man, which Original Cindy couldn't see at all,
thank you very much.
"You don't wanna stay with him, you can come stay with me," Cindy
offered.
"What's in it for you?" Jondy demanded.
"You're Max's sister. I'm Max's friend. We got our hearts in the same
place," Cindy replied.
Jondy considered this for a second. "Okay," she said reluctantly.
"Good, then you buy the first round," Cindy told her. "I gotta go drop
a dime." She pointed Jondy to the table where Sketchy and Herbal were
sitting, and headed to the pay phone.
"You reached the number you dialed," Logan's voice on his answering
machine intoned. That boy sure tried hard to have an attitude,
Original Cindy thought.
"Yo, Logan. Original Cindy found your stray." That told him everything
he needed to know.
_ _ _
They woke them all in the middle of the night. Gave them ten minutes
to dress and report. As they filed into the central hall, Max saw
they weren't the only ones who'd been given the order. All the staff
was present, as were the other groups.
Not many of us, Max thought. Manticore is a rare breed these days. She
counted three of the X-4s, although some of them were bound to be out
on assignment. There were 10 X-5, including herself. X-6 had been
decimated before the '09 escape by a virus that reacted with their
enhanced DNA. It had been a total loss. And the project had stopped
with the X-7s. Twenty of them were still alive at age nine.
No one else seemed bothered by the resemblance between the X-7s and
the X-5s. They weren't clones; clones were perfect copies. The X-7s
had their DNA pushed much farther than X-5 DNA would go. The X-7s
knew it, too, and they were stuck up little brats, all of them
believing they were perfect.
Max wondered how the half of them felt, not seeing the older version
of themself. Knowing their predecessor had been murdered in one way
or another, a victim of their genes or the ones who'd created them.
She found herself watching X7-599. She couldn't call him Zack.
Is this really what we looked like? She asked herself, looking at
them. They were just little kids.
She blinked and suddenly the group was breaking up. "What's going on?"
she asked.
"Should have paid attention, 452," Brin said, reprimanding.
"It's a drill," Eva said.
A drill, thought Max, watching as people rushed to stations and
pre-set positions. They hadn't had drills when she was a child. They
hadn't needed them. No one had escaped before that, as far as she
knew.
As far as she knew...where had that come from? Max asked herself as
she moved with her partner to her assigned station. Why would she
think such a thing? And once she'd thought it, she couldn't get it
out of her mind.
Maybe there were others out there.
_ _ _
The City Gardens were deserted. It wasn't that late, but the denizens
of Seattle had better things to do in the dark than look at flowers.
Logan stood there, waiting. Wondering if he'd been stood up like
somebody's bad date.
The flowers weren't even in good shape, he thought, shifting to look
more closely at the wild flora threatening to overgrow the walkway.
Bugs had been feasting, and there were more weeds and wildflowers
than rare plants.
"I'd be careful with that if I were you." The voice of warning came
from directly behind him, although Logan had heard no footsteps nor
been aware of any sign that someone was approaching.
"And why's that?" Logan asked.
"It's hungry." The other man brushed past him and put his finger near
the flower, which opened its petals as though they were jaws. He
pulled his fingers away just before the petals snapped closed.
Great, man-eating plants. And they said no radiation had been released
during the pulse, Logan thought, checking out how very large the
carnivorous plant was.
"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Cale?"
Logan finally turned and took in the May 22 group's operative. He'd
expected them to send a lackey, but from the way this man spoke and
behaved, Logan thought this was their new leader. The guy was tall
and athletic, healthy looking, with the scruffy hair of a rebel
leader hanging over the collar of his shirt. But there was something
dark and sinister in the way his eyes shifted. "I heard on fairly
good authority that you intend to detonate an electromagnetic
pulse sometime in the near future."
"That's highly classified information, Mr. Cale," the rebel said
silkily, as though it didn't bother him at all. "I'd be curious to
find out who told you such a thing."
"I'm more curious to find out whether it's true."
"So you can warn people, I presume?"
"How do you know I wouldn't be interested in helping you?" Logan kept
his voice even and bland. Not offering to help. Just asking why the
other man would automatically jump to a different conclusion.
The rebel merely scoffed, as though he knew Logan better than he knew
himself. "I thought you were here to get a story."
"There are other outlets than the Free Press," Logan said. "Might be
good for your cause."
"Are you sure you know what my cause is, Mr. Cale?" the rebel
inquired. Logan wished he'd stop calling him "Mr. Cale." He also knew
that the rebel was doing it purposely to annoy him, just as the rebel
hadn't offered his name. "Last time I checked, we had a reputation
for being Luddites."
"If I believed you were Luddites, I wouldn't believe you had the
technology capable of generating an electromagnetic pulse," Logan
pointed out. "Funny how it takes technology to destroy technology."
"Much as it takes a thief to catch a thief, isn't that how the old
saying goes? But our concern isn't technology on its own."
"Bio-engineering makes you particularly upset, if I recall correctly,"
Logan said. "At least, that was John Darius's agenda."
The rebel looked at him and Logan knew he was making up his mind.
"Come on. You can see our set-up for yourself."
"Okay," said Logan, following as the rebel took off at a rapid clip,
threading his way where paths once existed but had fallen to ruin.
The plants closed in behind him, as though they knew this man and
were also involved in his cause. "What's your name, by the way?"
Logan called as he struggled to catch up.
"You can call me Ned."
_ _ _
One of the doors inside Original Cindy's apartment was closed, so of
course Jondy had to know what lay behind it. She glanced back to make
sure she wouldn't get caught, and then turned the handle.
The air smelled musty, unused. The room had been closed up for a long
time. Inside was a bed. Someone's belongings. And a very nice
motorcycle. Jondy knew Cindy was behind her for several seconds
before she turned. "That's where you can stay," Cindy told her.
"Nice bike. Not yours," Jondy judged.
"It was Max's. This was her crib."
"And you didn't sell her stuff."
"Touch her bike and she'll kill you," Cindy warned.
"She'd have to find me first," Jondy offered, joking. It went back to
their Manticore childhood. Of course Cindy wouldn't know that. "What
makes you think she's still alive?"
"I know my girl," Cindy said stubbornly. The expression on her face
told Jondy she knew more than she was telling. Cindy reached for the
door and pulled it closed, centimeters from Jondy's nose. "Talk to
me."
"What --"
"Start with where you came from and what you're doing here. I know
what you are," Original Cindy said.
"I don't answer questions."
"You just ask 'em," Cindy pointed out. "That ain't the way the deal
works, sugar, you dig?"
Jondy rolled her eyes. "Maybe this was a mistake."
"You know where the door is." Cindy knew Jondy wouldn't go, because
Jondy wanted something. She just hadn't yet figured out what that
something was.
"Tell me about Max," Jondy requested.
"Tell me about Manticore."
"You don't want to know." Jondy was perfectly truthful.
"How come you never came to see Max before this?"
"Didn't know where to look." And Zack had made a point of that. Once,
when she'd insisted, he'd given her a location. She'd spent days
combing the streets of Dodge City, Kansas before she realized it had
all been a goosechase. But it had worked; she'd never asked him
again, just kept looking on her own. She didn't know how Zack had
managed to find as many of the others as he had. Jondy had
never been able to find any of them. Krit and Syl had tracked her down
after the raid and given her the news. They hadn't said so, but she
suspected Logan had hacked Zack's contact number, or Krit and Syl
would have been just as much in the dark as the rest of them. Zack
had liked it that way. Said it was safer. Maybe he was right.
Jondy became aware Cindy had been watching her while she was lost in
thought. "So where's the name come from?" she asked.
"Original Cindy has always been the original," she replied, not
terribly helpfully. Then she relented, with a conspiratorial smile.
"So my grandma used to say."
"Where is she now?" Jondy asked.
"She was killed in the riots after the Pulse," Cindy said.
"A lot of people were," Jondy replied. Meaningless words. This entire
conversation was stupid and meaningless, and beginning to irritate
her. She'd heard Cindy's phone call to Logan in the bar and knew the
girl was trying to detain her long enough for him to ride to the
rescue. Maybe he'd heard and decided not to bother. Maybe she was
just wasting her time in Seattle, time that would be better spent
finding her brothers and sisters and enlisting them in her
war, rather than trying to win the help of Max's civilian friends.
"Well, I can't say it's been fun, but Original Cindy's got work in the
morning," she said, getting up. Jondy wondered why she referred to
herself in the third person. "'Night."
Jondy raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a pretentious wave.
Once the door to the other bedroom closed, Jondy turned to look in
the direction of Max's room. It felt wrong to go through her sister's
stuff, especially when it'd been sitting there untouched for so long,
just waiting for her to come back for it. But Jondy had never been
one to let her conscience get in her way.
_ _ _
The entire complex had powered down for the drill, which meant Max was
wandering through endless corridors in the dark. But she could see in
the dark and so could the others, so that didn't matter. She glanced
at one of the hallway security cameras as she passed it, wondering if
they continued to function. A fair guess they did; otherwise, how
would those in charge monitor their progress?
Searching rooms for intruders was a dull task. Max wasn't expecting to
find any, since this was just a drill. Which is perhaps why she ended
up getting her head slammed into the tile wall checking the swimming
area.
She fought back instantly, ramming her attacker into the floor. He
went down easily, so she knew he wasn't Manticore. "You picked the
wrong night to break in here," she told him, turning him over on the
floor with her foot and pinning him there. She figured it was a guard
and wanted to relieve him of his tazer before she got juiced with it
again.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you want?"
He gazed back at her with the determined expression of one who would
never tell, so Max applied a little pressure to his ribcage with her
foot. She was wearing big, heavy boots. It'd be easy to get carried
away and snap his bones like ripping through a spiderweb early in the
morning. Even at the point where she had to be hurting him, he
offered no protest. The lack of fear in his eyes annoyed her.
Max let up and grabbed him, pulling him to his feet. "You wanna fight?
See if you can take me?" she offered. "You can take me, I'll let you
go." It was a hollow offer. He couldn't take her. He probably
couldn't even take your average street thug, considering how scrawny
his arms were.
He punched her. "Was that supposed to hurt?" she taunted, bouncing
lightly so the next time he swung, he missed by a mile. She caught
him off balance and knocked him against the wall, twirling for a kick
that landed squarely in his stomach. He went down again, unable to
hold in the grunt of pain.
Max waited. "I thought you wanted to get away," she teased when he'd
lain there too long. She was starting to get bored, and she didn't
want to be bored. The little bit of fighting had let loose a flow of
adrenaline her veins, pumping strong and hard with every beat of her
heart. She wanted to kick somebody's ass. She hit him with her foot
and he curled up.
"Hey," she said, raising her foot to kick her again. He grabbed her
ankle and held on. Max tried to cartwheel it off, but he shifted on
the ground and got in the way of her hands. They tumbled together
into the pool.
He tried to hold her head under the water. That amused Max. He really
didn't know what he was dealing with, did he? Where had they found
this guy? She yanked on his shirt and pulled him under with her. He
struggled, hard, breaking the surface long enough to suck some air
into his lungs. He faced her, holding his breath with cheeks puffed
out. As though he could outlast her.
Max forced him to the bottom of the pool. She held his head next to
the bubbling drain. Too bad he hadn't met an X-7. Then he'd really
have been surprised. They had gills, or so she'd heard. He started to
thrash. The horror on his face intensified when he looked at her,
standing there so calmly with no need to breathe. Max could feel his
terror as part of the excitement that flowed through her.
His eyes rolled up and back, and his thrashing stopped.
Max continued to stand on the bottom of the pool. Suddenly shaky,
wondering what to do. She hadn't meant to kill him. She'd just wanted
someone to play with. And now she was torn between leaving him there
and bringing him to the surface to revive him. What would Manticore
want her to do? He was the enemy, wasn't he?
But he was just a person. He didn't know any better.
Others burst in through the doors. Max looked up at them through the
clear blue water. Even as they reached in to drag the body out, she
remained at the bottom of the pool, watching them. As though they
existed in some other world than she did. What was she supposed to
do?
Hands reached for her next, dragging her out as they had the corpse.
His eyes were open now, white and filmy. His skin was already
starting to swell and darken, signs of his drowning. "Congratulations
, X5-452." It was Renfro's voice, but Max wasn't really listening.
They'd wanted her to kill him.
And she'd been happy to do it.
"You okay?" Sketchy asked Original Cindy when she arrived back at Jam
Pony. "You look like you saw a ghost."
Cindy just looked at him. There was no way she could tell him. He
wouldn't understand. She didn't understand it herself. But he was
looking at her, and she had to have some sort of answer...
"She almost get hit by some car up the block," Herbal told Sketchy,
then turned to Cindy. "You all good?"
Original Cindy managed to smile. "Yeah, Original Cindy's all good,"
she replied.
"You need to be more careful," Normal said, pointing at her. "Bip, bip
--" The scowl she cast at him from over crossed arms made his usual
saying trail off into oblivion. "What?"
"Didn't we have an understanding about you and that phrase?" Original
Cindy demanded.
"I remember no such agreement," Normal said, in a way that
demonstrated he did remember, all too well. "I do remember an
agreement on tipping, so hand it over."
"Excuse me?" Original Cindy demanded.
"The way you jumped on that delivery this morning, obviously the guy's
a good tipper."
"The guy's a old friend. He didn't give me no money," Original Cindy
said, disgusted at the accusation.
"I didn't realize you had old guy friends," Normal said.
Original Cindy waved her hand and rolled her eyes, dismissing him.
Normal sent Sketchy and Herbal out on deliveries, and once again it
settled over her what she'd seen.
It had definitely been Max.
_ _ _
"Hey, buddy. Thanks for the tryptophan," Logan said, on the phone with
Sebastian later that day.
"Is there any way I can help?" Sebastian offered.
"Know anything about a plot to set off some nukes within a fairly
short timeframe?" Logan inquired. "I've got bits and pieces, but I
don't have the whole puzzle."
"What about the May 22 Movement?" Sebastian asked.
"They broke up after the death of their --" Logan began, but Sebastian
was shaking his head. "They're still around?"
"I've heard rumors. And they're not as squeamish under new
management," Sebastian reported.
"Anything substantiated?" Logan asked.
"I'll work on it."
"Thanks," Logan said, and hung up. There was a pounding on the door.
"It's Grand Central station in here," he muttered to himself, going
to answer it. Original Cindy stood there. "Didn't expect to see you
again."
"You lied to Original Cindy," she said.
"I what?" This took Logan by surprise. He didn't lie to anyone.
"You said Max was dead," Original Cindy accused. "I'm sure you thought
it was all real funny."
"No, I didn't," Logan said seriously. "What's this about?"
"I saw her."
"Max?" His shocked tone drew an interested look from Cindy.
"You didn't know?" she asked, not sure whether she believed it or
not.
"I heard a rumor."
"And?" Cindy prompted.
"And, I don't know. It's impossible," he said. Yet, he'd seen her on
the video. "You saw her?"
Original Cindy nodded. "This afternoon, on Market Street. Damn near
ran me down in some big-ass truck. Barely even stopped."
"Max tried to hit you in a car?"
"You doubtin' everything I'm sayin'?" Cindy demanded. "Fess up.
Everything. Now." Logan continued to hesitate. "You can start with
who that white girl was this morning."
"Max's sister," Logan blurted.
"You're disgusting. Men are *disgusting,*" Cindy declared.
"It's not like that," said Logan. "She was having seizures."
"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Her eyebrow went up.
"Seizures like Max had," Logan explained. "She showed up here
yesterday with information and a tape. I've only just begun trying to
verify it."
"Where is she now?"
"She took off."
"Figures," Original Cindy said. She met Logan's eyes. "If that was
Max, we have to find her."
"I know," he said. "But it's more complicated than that."
"How complicated?" Cindy asked. "Like the stuff that got her killed
complicated," she answered her own question. "Call me. I'll be there.
Max's my girl."
"I know."
"Lie to me again and I'll kick your skinny white ass," Cindy
threatened.
"Understood," Logan confirmed.
_ _ _
"Well done, X5-452," Renfro said, facing Max from across the desk in
her office back at Manticore. "I knew you had it in you, soldier."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," Max replied.
"Sit down," Renfro said, and Max did as she was told. It was all a cat
and mouse game. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
"No, ma'am," Max reported. Renfro waited. Max said nothing.
"I want to know where the others are."
"I don't know that," Max said. She was surprised it had taken this
long for the question to come up. Although she had been questioned
before, under sedation, during her recovery. Not by the bitch in
charge, though.
"Come on, Max," she wheedled invitingly. "You know this is the best
place for them."
Max refused to say anything.
"They could be sick, like Brin was. If you tell us where they are, we
can help them."
"I don't know where they are," Max said again.
"What about the others with you that night?" Renfro pressed. "You must
know how to contact them."
"Only Zack knew," Max said. "And he took that information with him to
the grave." Her voice was cold. There was only so far she'd allow
herself to be pushed.
"And after he gave you so much, Max?" Renfro said. As much as Max
hated being referred to as a number, she hated it more when that
woman referred to them by name. Max just glared at her, prepared to
sit there and glare until the end of time, if necessary. "You may
go."
Max stood and straightened her uniform, then reached for the
doorknob.
"I will find them, X5-452," Renfro cautioned.
"Yes, ma'am," Max replied, and returned to the dorm, since it was
after lights- out already. She undressed quickly and slipped into her
bed.
"You came back," Eva whispered.
"I had to," Max replied. But she frowned as she whispered it. Maybe
she shouldn't have come back. Maybe she should have run when she had
the chance. But her debt hadn't been paid. She had the opportunity to
completely destroy Manticore from the inside out. She wanted to get
the others out. She wanted to kill Renfro. Make sure Manticore was
good and truly dead. And the only way to do that was from the
inside.
_ _ _
Logan got the name of the new leader of the May 22 Movement from
Sebastian. And wasn't it funny how terrorist organizations had listed
telephone numbers -- especially organizations that supposedly
eschewed technology. But then, May 22 had always been more concerned
with the way that technology was used. "I want to meet with someone,"
Logan said.
"You're not one of us," the man who answered the phone said.
"No," Logan confirmed. "I'm a journalist. I can help you tell your
story to the world."
"Last time you offered to help us tell our story, five of our people
ended up dead, including John Darius."
"Last time, you also tried to throw me off the roof of a very tall
building," Logan pointed out. "I'm willing to overlook it."
"Why now?"
"I've got some information that indicates it might be in your best
interest to get your story out there in the next couple of weeks," he
said, letting them know that he knew what was going to happen.
"I see."
"I thought you might," Logan said.
"Hold please."
Logan took a deep breath while he was waiting. It always had to be
complicated, he thought. If May 22 just wanted to destroy Manticore,
that would be fine. But no, they had to decide to destroy all
technology, just when things were beginning to work again. And he had
to save Max. Logan would defend Manticore until his dying day if it
meant seeing Max again, safe and sound, no matter how much he
disagreed with their principles.
"We'll meet in the City Gardens in one hour. And come alone, Mr.
Cale," the voice on the other end of the telephone line cooed before
the call disconnected.
One hour. Not much time.
_ _ _
Original Cindy went from Logan's to Crash. She could use a drink after
that conversation. Sketchy and Herbal and the others were there, and
it was comfortable to sit down with them and have a brew.
"Check that out," Sketchy said, nudging Herbal. Then he looked at
Original Cindy. "Hell, you'd be interested too."
"Mmm-hmm, sugar," Cindy muttered, although she hadn't had much use for
pretty girls since she'd lost Diamond and Max all in the same month.
But she turned and looked anyway.
Leather pants, little red top. Long blond ponytail cascading down her
back. "Sweet," Sketchy declared.
"I know that bitch," Original Cindy declared, getting up.
Sketchy turned to Herbal. "Why are the good ones always gay?" he
demanded.
"Hey. You," Original Cindy marched over to Jondy, who turned and gave
her a cool look. "Logan's looking for you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jondy said, turning back to
the bartender. "I've got experience," she said to him. "I'm a hard
worker."
"You're applying for a job?" Original Cindy demanded.
"A girl's got to pay the rent," Jondy informed her. "So, we have a
deal?"
The bartender looked from Cindy to Jondy and back again, and shook his
head.
"Maybe Seattle's not the place for me after all," Jondy said easily,
turning from the bar and heading straight for the door.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," Cindy said. She wasn't about to go trailing
after some girl. But Jondy didn't stop walking. "I saw Max," she
said.
"You're lying." Jondy didn't even pause.
"Logan needs your help."
"Oh, didn't you ask him? Logan doesn't need anyone," Jondy said. She
had Max's same sarcastic streak, Cindy noted. And she also possibly
had Max's crush on the man, which Original Cindy couldn't see at all,
thank you very much.
"You don't wanna stay with him, you can come stay with me," Cindy
offered.
"What's in it for you?" Jondy demanded.
"You're Max's sister. I'm Max's friend. We got our hearts in the same
place," Cindy replied.
Jondy considered this for a second. "Okay," she said reluctantly.
"Good, then you buy the first round," Cindy told her. "I gotta go drop
a dime." She pointed Jondy to the table where Sketchy and Herbal were
sitting, and headed to the pay phone.
"You reached the number you dialed," Logan's voice on his answering
machine intoned. That boy sure tried hard to have an attitude,
Original Cindy thought.
"Yo, Logan. Original Cindy found your stray." That told him everything
he needed to know.
_ _ _
They woke them all in the middle of the night. Gave them ten minutes
to dress and report. As they filed into the central hall, Max saw
they weren't the only ones who'd been given the order. All the staff
was present, as were the other groups.
Not many of us, Max thought. Manticore is a rare breed these days. She
counted three of the X-4s, although some of them were bound to be out
on assignment. There were 10 X-5, including herself. X-6 had been
decimated before the '09 escape by a virus that reacted with their
enhanced DNA. It had been a total loss. And the project had stopped
with the X-7s. Twenty of them were still alive at age nine.
No one else seemed bothered by the resemblance between the X-7s and
the X-5s. They weren't clones; clones were perfect copies. The X-7s
had their DNA pushed much farther than X-5 DNA would go. The X-7s
knew it, too, and they were stuck up little brats, all of them
believing they were perfect.
Max wondered how the half of them felt, not seeing the older version
of themself. Knowing their predecessor had been murdered in one way
or another, a victim of their genes or the ones who'd created them.
She found herself watching X7-599. She couldn't call him Zack.
Is this really what we looked like? She asked herself, looking at
them. They were just little kids.
She blinked and suddenly the group was breaking up. "What's going on?"
she asked.
"Should have paid attention, 452," Brin said, reprimanding.
"It's a drill," Eva said.
A drill, thought Max, watching as people rushed to stations and
pre-set positions. They hadn't had drills when she was a child. They
hadn't needed them. No one had escaped before that, as far as she
knew.
As far as she knew...where had that come from? Max asked herself as
she moved with her partner to her assigned station. Why would she
think such a thing? And once she'd thought it, she couldn't get it
out of her mind.
Maybe there were others out there.
_ _ _
The City Gardens were deserted. It wasn't that late, but the denizens
of Seattle had better things to do in the dark than look at flowers.
Logan stood there, waiting. Wondering if he'd been stood up like
somebody's bad date.
The flowers weren't even in good shape, he thought, shifting to look
more closely at the wild flora threatening to overgrow the walkway.
Bugs had been feasting, and there were more weeds and wildflowers
than rare plants.
"I'd be careful with that if I were you." The voice of warning came
from directly behind him, although Logan had heard no footsteps nor
been aware of any sign that someone was approaching.
"And why's that?" Logan asked.
"It's hungry." The other man brushed past him and put his finger near
the flower, which opened its petals as though they were jaws. He
pulled his fingers away just before the petals snapped closed.
Great, man-eating plants. And they said no radiation had been released
during the pulse, Logan thought, checking out how very large the
carnivorous plant was.
"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Cale?"
Logan finally turned and took in the May 22 group's operative. He'd
expected them to send a lackey, but from the way this man spoke and
behaved, Logan thought this was their new leader. The guy was tall
and athletic, healthy looking, with the scruffy hair of a rebel
leader hanging over the collar of his shirt. But there was something
dark and sinister in the way his eyes shifted. "I heard on fairly
good authority that you intend to detonate an electromagnetic
pulse sometime in the near future."
"That's highly classified information, Mr. Cale," the rebel said
silkily, as though it didn't bother him at all. "I'd be curious to
find out who told you such a thing."
"I'm more curious to find out whether it's true."
"So you can warn people, I presume?"
"How do you know I wouldn't be interested in helping you?" Logan kept
his voice even and bland. Not offering to help. Just asking why the
other man would automatically jump to a different conclusion.
The rebel merely scoffed, as though he knew Logan better than he knew
himself. "I thought you were here to get a story."
"There are other outlets than the Free Press," Logan said. "Might be
good for your cause."
"Are you sure you know what my cause is, Mr. Cale?" the rebel
inquired. Logan wished he'd stop calling him "Mr. Cale." He also knew
that the rebel was doing it purposely to annoy him, just as the rebel
hadn't offered his name. "Last time I checked, we had a reputation
for being Luddites."
"If I believed you were Luddites, I wouldn't believe you had the
technology capable of generating an electromagnetic pulse," Logan
pointed out. "Funny how it takes technology to destroy technology."
"Much as it takes a thief to catch a thief, isn't that how the old
saying goes? But our concern isn't technology on its own."
"Bio-engineering makes you particularly upset, if I recall correctly,"
Logan said. "At least, that was John Darius's agenda."
The rebel looked at him and Logan knew he was making up his mind.
"Come on. You can see our set-up for yourself."
"Okay," said Logan, following as the rebel took off at a rapid clip,
threading his way where paths once existed but had fallen to ruin.
The plants closed in behind him, as though they knew this man and
were also involved in his cause. "What's your name, by the way?"
Logan called as he struggled to catch up.
"You can call me Ned."
_ _ _
One of the doors inside Original Cindy's apartment was closed, so of
course Jondy had to know what lay behind it. She glanced back to make
sure she wouldn't get caught, and then turned the handle.
The air smelled musty, unused. The room had been closed up for a long
time. Inside was a bed. Someone's belongings. And a very nice
motorcycle. Jondy knew Cindy was behind her for several seconds
before she turned. "That's where you can stay," Cindy told her.
"Nice bike. Not yours," Jondy judged.
"It was Max's. This was her crib."
"And you didn't sell her stuff."
"Touch her bike and she'll kill you," Cindy warned.
"She'd have to find me first," Jondy offered, joking. It went back to
their Manticore childhood. Of course Cindy wouldn't know that. "What
makes you think she's still alive?"
"I know my girl," Cindy said stubbornly. The expression on her face
told Jondy she knew more than she was telling. Cindy reached for the
door and pulled it closed, centimeters from Jondy's nose. "Talk to
me."
"What --"
"Start with where you came from and what you're doing here. I know
what you are," Original Cindy said.
"I don't answer questions."
"You just ask 'em," Cindy pointed out. "That ain't the way the deal
works, sugar, you dig?"
Jondy rolled her eyes. "Maybe this was a mistake."
"You know where the door is." Cindy knew Jondy wouldn't go, because
Jondy wanted something. She just hadn't yet figured out what that
something was.
"Tell me about Max," Jondy requested.
"Tell me about Manticore."
"You don't want to know." Jondy was perfectly truthful.
"How come you never came to see Max before this?"
"Didn't know where to look." And Zack had made a point of that. Once,
when she'd insisted, he'd given her a location. She'd spent days
combing the streets of Dodge City, Kansas before she realized it had
all been a goosechase. But it had worked; she'd never asked him
again, just kept looking on her own. She didn't know how Zack had
managed to find as many of the others as he had. Jondy had
never been able to find any of them. Krit and Syl had tracked her down
after the raid and given her the news. They hadn't said so, but she
suspected Logan had hacked Zack's contact number, or Krit and Syl
would have been just as much in the dark as the rest of them. Zack
had liked it that way. Said it was safer. Maybe he was right.
Jondy became aware Cindy had been watching her while she was lost in
thought. "So where's the name come from?" she asked.
"Original Cindy has always been the original," she replied, not
terribly helpfully. Then she relented, with a conspiratorial smile.
"So my grandma used to say."
"Where is she now?" Jondy asked.
"She was killed in the riots after the Pulse," Cindy said.
"A lot of people were," Jondy replied. Meaningless words. This entire
conversation was stupid and meaningless, and beginning to irritate
her. She'd heard Cindy's phone call to Logan in the bar and knew the
girl was trying to detain her long enough for him to ride to the
rescue. Maybe he'd heard and decided not to bother. Maybe she was
just wasting her time in Seattle, time that would be better spent
finding her brothers and sisters and enlisting them in her
war, rather than trying to win the help of Max's civilian friends.
"Well, I can't say it's been fun, but Original Cindy's got work in the
morning," she said, getting up. Jondy wondered why she referred to
herself in the third person. "'Night."
Jondy raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a pretentious wave.
Once the door to the other bedroom closed, Jondy turned to look in
the direction of Max's room. It felt wrong to go through her sister's
stuff, especially when it'd been sitting there untouched for so long,
just waiting for her to come back for it. But Jondy had never been
one to let her conscience get in her way.
_ _ _
The entire complex had powered down for the drill, which meant Max was
wandering through endless corridors in the dark. But she could see in
the dark and so could the others, so that didn't matter. She glanced
at one of the hallway security cameras as she passed it, wondering if
they continued to function. A fair guess they did; otherwise, how
would those in charge monitor their progress?
Searching rooms for intruders was a dull task. Max wasn't expecting to
find any, since this was just a drill. Which is perhaps why she ended
up getting her head slammed into the tile wall checking the swimming
area.
She fought back instantly, ramming her attacker into the floor. He
went down easily, so she knew he wasn't Manticore. "You picked the
wrong night to break in here," she told him, turning him over on the
floor with her foot and pinning him there. She figured it was a guard
and wanted to relieve him of his tazer before she got juiced with it
again.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you want?"
He gazed back at her with the determined expression of one who would
never tell, so Max applied a little pressure to his ribcage with her
foot. She was wearing big, heavy boots. It'd be easy to get carried
away and snap his bones like ripping through a spiderweb early in the
morning. Even at the point where she had to be hurting him, he
offered no protest. The lack of fear in his eyes annoyed her.
Max let up and grabbed him, pulling him to his feet. "You wanna fight?
See if you can take me?" she offered. "You can take me, I'll let you
go." It was a hollow offer. He couldn't take her. He probably
couldn't even take your average street thug, considering how scrawny
his arms were.
He punched her. "Was that supposed to hurt?" she taunted, bouncing
lightly so the next time he swung, he missed by a mile. She caught
him off balance and knocked him against the wall, twirling for a kick
that landed squarely in his stomach. He went down again, unable to
hold in the grunt of pain.
Max waited. "I thought you wanted to get away," she teased when he'd
lain there too long. She was starting to get bored, and she didn't
want to be bored. The little bit of fighting had let loose a flow of
adrenaline her veins, pumping strong and hard with every beat of her
heart. She wanted to kick somebody's ass. She hit him with her foot
and he curled up.
"Hey," she said, raising her foot to kick her again. He grabbed her
ankle and held on. Max tried to cartwheel it off, but he shifted on
the ground and got in the way of her hands. They tumbled together
into the pool.
He tried to hold her head under the water. That amused Max. He really
didn't know what he was dealing with, did he? Where had they found
this guy? She yanked on his shirt and pulled him under with her. He
struggled, hard, breaking the surface long enough to suck some air
into his lungs. He faced her, holding his breath with cheeks puffed
out. As though he could outlast her.
Max forced him to the bottom of the pool. She held his head next to
the bubbling drain. Too bad he hadn't met an X-7. Then he'd really
have been surprised. They had gills, or so she'd heard. He started to
thrash. The horror on his face intensified when he looked at her,
standing there so calmly with no need to breathe. Max could feel his
terror as part of the excitement that flowed through her.
His eyes rolled up and back, and his thrashing stopped.
Max continued to stand on the bottom of the pool. Suddenly shaky,
wondering what to do. She hadn't meant to kill him. She'd just wanted
someone to play with. And now she was torn between leaving him there
and bringing him to the surface to revive him. What would Manticore
want her to do? He was the enemy, wasn't he?
But he was just a person. He didn't know any better.
Others burst in through the doors. Max looked up at them through the
clear blue water. Even as they reached in to drag the body out, she
remained at the bottom of the pool, watching them. As though they
existed in some other world than she did. What was she supposed to
do?
Hands reached for her next, dragging her out as they had the corpse.
His eyes were open now, white and filmy. His skin was already
starting to swell and darken, signs of his drowning. "Congratulations
, X5-452." It was Renfro's voice, but Max wasn't really listening.
They'd wanted her to kill him.
And she'd been happy to do it.