Torn
The motorcycle tore through the night, screaming up the street at an
impossible rate of speed. Jondy's hair streamed out behind her, then
whipped into her eyes as she took a turn. She wanted to laugh, this
was so much fun.
It felt disappointing that she reached her destination so quickly.
Squinting up from the street, she saw there were no lights on in the
penthouse, which is where she was going. Good, she'd surprise him,
she thought.
She retraced her steps from the previous day, scaling quickly up the
building and slipping inside from the roof. The rich didn't really
take enough precautions, and the fact that the penthouse was always
on the top floor made it so much easier for burglars to get inside.
Not that a residence on a middle floor would have slowed her down.
Logan's apartment was silent. She half-expected to find him sacked out
with his head on the computer table again, but the computer room was
empty and the terminals shut off. Quickly she peeked into his
bedroom, but he wasn't there, either.
Jondy had an agenda, but now that she was standing in his bedroom, she
had the urge to snoop. It always got her into trouble. She remembered
getting caught looking through Tinga's footlocker one day when they
were about five. From there, she'd moved on to better and more
challenging feats of curiosity, like Lydecker's personal quarters,
which had been nearly as dull as their commander himself. After the
escape, her penchant for snooping had come in handy as she
bounced through foster homes. Purposely getting caught had even helped
liberate her from a few. And then there were the boyfriends and
roommates and employers who hadn't really appreciated her interest in
them -- or rather, their stuff.
Logan had a lot of hair crap for someone whose hair stuck straight up,
she thought. There was nothing of interest in the medicine cabinet.
Medicine cabinets just weren't as fascinating as they had been in the
heyday of prescription drugs, before the pulse, Jondy lamented. Then
she struck snooper gold -- an entire drawer filled with photographs,
business cards, scrawled-on napkins, love letters and god knew what
else. It was locked, but that didn't even slow her down. She plucked
a small, well-thumbed book from the top of the heap and sat down on
the bed to read it.
Poems. Jondy giggled, because they were really bad. But at some point,
she stopped snickering and stretched out, turning the pages with
increasing fascination. She was aware she was wasting precious time,
and somewhere in the back of her mind was the nagging knowledge that
if Logan came in and found her tangled up in his sheets reading his
diary he was going to be pissed, but she didn't care. This was too
good to be passed up.
_ _ _
Ned led Logan through the back of the gardens and through a hole in
the fence, which gave way to dense woods. It was a short hike through
the trees to a small complex of tents and lean-tos. Logan raised an
eyebrow. This was how terrorists lived?
"I realize it's not as fancy as you might have hoped," Ned drawled, in
that same tone he'd taken in the gardens. As though he was the cat
and Logan was a ball of string. Inside the lean-to was a trap door in
the dirt, which was locked. Logan watched as Ned twirled the
combination impossibly fast, his fingers flying. He'd only known one
person who could move that quickly. Ned turned and looked at him
as though he could sense Logan's thoughts.
"Into the breach," he said, holding the door open. Logan couldn't see
anything inside; the tunnel was completely dark. Reluctantly, he went
first, through the opening, into the darkness. He heard Ned land
lightly on his feet, and the slam as the door closed automatically
behind them.
Logan began feeling his way along the wall, completely blinded by the
absence of light. "Hope you don't mind," Ned said, seizing Logan's
hand and pulling him down the hall, moving easily, as though he could
see in the darkness. He's just used to it, Logan told himself, but
suddenly he wasn't so sure. He tried to count steps and directions so
he'd be able to find his way back, but they made so many twists and
turns, he quickly lost track.
Note to self, carry flashlight, Logan thought.
Ned unlocked another door. It must have raised markings he can feel in
the darkness, Logan thought, but as low light leaked from inside the
room after the door was open, he looked back and saw the lock was
completely smooth. His frown deepened.
"Feeling a bit trapped?" Ned asked casually as he pulled the door
closed behind them. The lights were on a dimmer switch and Ned
gradually brightened them, revealing a pristinely clean research
room. Logan's eyes were drawn to the computers lined up along one
table. "You think we're hypocritical."
"I have no judgement, actually," Logan stated.
"We had to be certain it would work," Ned told him. "Would you like to
see a demonstration?" He walked over to the computer table and
fingered a small device.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Logan told him. Now he felt
scared. An electromagnetic field could and probably would take out
the exoskeleton, leaving him paralyzed and at the mercy of
terrorists. "I believe you can do it," he added.
Ned laughed. It was a harsh, unnatural sound that prickled the skin at
the back of Logan's neck.
"What I don't understand is why," Logan said.
"They're using technology to create a new breed of soldier." Ned
looked at him. "You're too young to have been in the Balkan War."
"Yeah," Logan said.
Ned was still tapping the device. "Are you sure you don't want to
see?"
"I'm sure," Logan stated. "Where are the others?"
"They don't like to come down here," Ned explained.
"But this is where you're going to shelter yourselves from the pulse
when you detonate it," Logan said. That much was obvious.
"There's no real need to seek shelter from the pulse itself. The human
body is able to withstand a great deal more magnetic pull than
computers can. But the chaos after..." Ned finally put down his
test-sized device and Logan relaxed.
"I would think you'd want to use the chaos to your advantage."
"Once the pulse is set off, our work will largely be done," Ned said.
"People weren't smart enough to get it the first time around.
Technology feeds war, and war destroys lives. The old, simple ways
are best."
"Why do you believe that so strongly?" Logan inquired.
"Do you know what technology has created?" Ned asked. "It's not just
about the megacorporations and the television networks and the
hoverdrones. Robots are costing people jobs. They're costing them
their lives. Computers affect every walk of human life. There's a
wellspring of projects to manipulate everything from crops to human
genetics."
"Which one offends you the most?" Logan asked.
"You ask a lot of questions."
"I'm still a reporter," Logan reminded him.
Ned nodded. "I am, of course, offended by it all."
"Surely there's one thing that stands out," Logan prodded.
"Let me show you our preparations," Ned offered, moving into the next
room, which was brightly lit.
"UV?" Logan asked.
"Clever, aren't they?" Ned asked. "No microchips involved. They're
basically solar panels. Go ahead, check it out."
Logan peered into the light, then turned it this way and that. It was
connected to a thin tube, which connected to a larger tube running up
through the earthen ceiling. Most of the panel was coated with
reflective, almost mirror-like surfacing.
"Works better than those hydroponics experiments. So twentieth-century
," Ned continued. He moved among the crops that were growing in the
soil. "Looks puny because you're used to the genetically engineered
stuff, but look at that color." He plucked an apple from a small
tree. "Taste that."
"I already ate," said Logan.
"You're a cautious man. Perhaps too cautious," Ned said, taking a
deep, crunchy bite of the apple and letting its juice run down his
chin.
"I think I've seen enough," Logan said, not looking forward to the
journey out.
"Are you going to expose us?"
"If I did, would it change your plans?"
"You don't approve. Pity," said Ned. "I thought you were a true
believer." He started for the door and for one long, claustrophobic
second, Logan thought the other man was going to leave him behind.
"Aren't you coming?" Ned glanced back at him.
"Right behind you," Logan reported, following closely. Staring at the
back of Ned's skull.
"Just need to grab a few things," Ned said, moving quickly and
gathering some supplies from here and there in the main room into a
cloth sack, which he slung over his shoulder. The strap brushed
against the hair at the back of his neck, revealing, for the briefest
second before he cut the lights, plunging them into darkness, exactly
what Logan had expected to see there.
The thin black lines of a barcode tattoo.
_ _ _
Max stood at attention in Renfro's office, trying to hide the fact
that she was completely freaking out.
"How did it make you feel?" the woman hissed at her.
"I didn't feel anything," Max lied.
Renfro chuckled. "I'm on to you, Max," she said, her lips curling up
into the evil semblance of a smile. Max said nothing. Kept her
expression blank. "I know you like it. Killing them. You'd kill me
now if you had the opportunity."
You'd better believe it, Max thought.
"You...and Brin...you're not like the others," Renfro continued.
Would Brin kill Renfro, given the opportunity? If so, kissing her ass
was a pretty funny way of showing it.
"As much as I hate to admit it, the time you spent fending for
yourselves out there made you stronger. Not better soldiers -- the
amount of training you missed can never be recovered, especially
during your formative years," the woman continued. "But it's given
you hatred. And passion. It's given you the edge that even the X-7s
lack."
Max continued to stand there, saying nothing.
Renfro cocked her head. "What do you think I should do about that,
Max?" she asked.
"I don't know, ma'am." As Lydecker used to tell them repeatedly, they
weren't there to stand around and think. Max felt a twinge, knowing
Lydecker was dead now, and at her hand. Compared to Renfro, he'd been
a saint.
"We'll have to give it some consideration, won't we, Max?" Renfro
suggested.
"Of course," Max responded.
Renfro nodded, apparently satisfied. "Dismissed."
What the hell was that? Max asked herself. It was only fifteen minutes
before their usual rising time, so it was a good thing she didn't
need any sleep. Max's second thought was more important: how could
she use it to her advantage?
_ _ _
Jondy jumped when she heard the front door slam. Mere seconds later,
Logan appeared. He stopped short in the doorway to his bedroom. Jondy
managed a smile. "I wasn't expecting you back."
"Obviously." Logan didn't move, just stood there, staring at her.
"Sorry about this." Jondy started to get up, tossing back the covers
she'd pulled around herself.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanted to find out where my brothers and sisters are. I have the
feeling you know more than you're telling," Jondy said.
"And you thought you'd find it in my journal?" Logan asked.
"Girl's gotta start somewhere," she shrugged.
"Wouldn't the computer have been a more logical place?"
"Logic's overrated," she said, with a wicked grin. She was having
trouble feeling ashamed of herself. It was sort of fun throwing him
so far off guard.
"Get out of here," he growled.
"But then you'd miss me," Jondy said. She still had the book in her
hands, moving her fingers lightly over the worn leather cover. Logan
crossed the room in an instant and ripped it away from her, flinging
it. It hit the wall so hard, some pages bounced out of it. "What's
got you so worked up?" Jondy asked, playing innocent again.
"I've had enough. Of you, of Manticore, all of it. You want the
information, it's on the computer. Nice and easy, in a file called
X-5. The password's Max. Take it and get out."
"I'm going to start thinking you don't like me," Jondy said.
He shoved her toward the door.
"You don't really want to get in a fight with me. You'll lose," Jondy
cautioned.
"Shut up!" Logan yelled.
That's when the room began to shake. Logan reached for the wall to
hang on, his first thought of an earthquake. But this was more subtle
than an earthquake, more of a vibration. A loud buzzing filled the
air, strong enough to make his teeth ache. The lights hummed as they
slowly faded to off, as though all the power had been sucked directly
out of them.
His knees buckled, and he hit the ground hard.
It stopped as quickly as it had began. "I didn't --" Jondy's eyes were
wide with fear.
"I know," Logan said.
"What was that?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.
"Electromagnetic pulse," Logan said. From where he sat on the floor he
could see outside. Lights continued to glow, cars moved down the
street in orderly patterns. "Localized, by the looks of it."
"Get up," said Jondy.
Ned must have slipped the device to him somehow with his noticing it.
Set it on a timer, Logan thought, working it out. He was furious,
mostly with himself, for being so stupid and naive as to think he
could go meet with May 22 without repercussions.
"Get up," Jondy said again.
"I can't," Logan told her. The look Jondy shot him was wild. She
didn't know. How could she -- he'd never told her. And even though
his journal would have told her more than enough about his private
feelings for Max, he'd never written so much as one word about his
severed spine. Some feelings ran too deep for words.
He sighed. "Open the closet," he said in a very calm voice. Jondy did
as she was told. "Reach in the back." She stuck her arm inside as
though she thought a monster living in there would bite her fingers
off. "You're looking for a wheelchair." Jondy looked over her
shoulder at him. He nodded.
She pulled it out of the closet. She stared at him. He wished she
would look away as he used his arms to pull himself up into the
chair. It was more of a struggle than it should have been. He'd grown
too dependent on the exoskeleton. Another mistake.
He wheeled into the computer room, knowing what he'd find. He checked
anyway, going through the motions, testing his lifeless equipment.
"Damn," he said. The word was completely inadequate.
"I don't understand," Jondy said. She'd completely lost her tough
veneer.
"I met with the terrorists who are planning to re-pulse the world,"
Logan said. "He must have planted something on me. Worked, too." He
rolled out of the computer room to where he'd dropped his jacket when
he came inside. There it was, inside his pocket, small enough to fit
inside the palm of his hand. "Guess I wasn't as convincing as I
thought." He tossed it to Jondy and she caught it, looking at it
briefly before dropping it disinterestedly on the table. "As it
happens, the leader of the group has a special interest in Manticore,"
Logan continued.
"What's that?" Jondy asked.
"They created him."
The motorcycle tore through the night, screaming up the street at an
impossible rate of speed. Jondy's hair streamed out behind her, then
whipped into her eyes as she took a turn. She wanted to laugh, this
was so much fun.
It felt disappointing that she reached her destination so quickly.
Squinting up from the street, she saw there were no lights on in the
penthouse, which is where she was going. Good, she'd surprise him,
she thought.
She retraced her steps from the previous day, scaling quickly up the
building and slipping inside from the roof. The rich didn't really
take enough precautions, and the fact that the penthouse was always
on the top floor made it so much easier for burglars to get inside.
Not that a residence on a middle floor would have slowed her down.
Logan's apartment was silent. She half-expected to find him sacked out
with his head on the computer table again, but the computer room was
empty and the terminals shut off. Quickly she peeked into his
bedroom, but he wasn't there, either.
Jondy had an agenda, but now that she was standing in his bedroom, she
had the urge to snoop. It always got her into trouble. She remembered
getting caught looking through Tinga's footlocker one day when they
were about five. From there, she'd moved on to better and more
challenging feats of curiosity, like Lydecker's personal quarters,
which had been nearly as dull as their commander himself. After the
escape, her penchant for snooping had come in handy as she
bounced through foster homes. Purposely getting caught had even helped
liberate her from a few. And then there were the boyfriends and
roommates and employers who hadn't really appreciated her interest in
them -- or rather, their stuff.
Logan had a lot of hair crap for someone whose hair stuck straight up,
she thought. There was nothing of interest in the medicine cabinet.
Medicine cabinets just weren't as fascinating as they had been in the
heyday of prescription drugs, before the pulse, Jondy lamented. Then
she struck snooper gold -- an entire drawer filled with photographs,
business cards, scrawled-on napkins, love letters and god knew what
else. It was locked, but that didn't even slow her down. She plucked
a small, well-thumbed book from the top of the heap and sat down on
the bed to read it.
Poems. Jondy giggled, because they were really bad. But at some point,
she stopped snickering and stretched out, turning the pages with
increasing fascination. She was aware she was wasting precious time,
and somewhere in the back of her mind was the nagging knowledge that
if Logan came in and found her tangled up in his sheets reading his
diary he was going to be pissed, but she didn't care. This was too
good to be passed up.
_ _ _
Ned led Logan through the back of the gardens and through a hole in
the fence, which gave way to dense woods. It was a short hike through
the trees to a small complex of tents and lean-tos. Logan raised an
eyebrow. This was how terrorists lived?
"I realize it's not as fancy as you might have hoped," Ned drawled, in
that same tone he'd taken in the gardens. As though he was the cat
and Logan was a ball of string. Inside the lean-to was a trap door in
the dirt, which was locked. Logan watched as Ned twirled the
combination impossibly fast, his fingers flying. He'd only known one
person who could move that quickly. Ned turned and looked at him
as though he could sense Logan's thoughts.
"Into the breach," he said, holding the door open. Logan couldn't see
anything inside; the tunnel was completely dark. Reluctantly, he went
first, through the opening, into the darkness. He heard Ned land
lightly on his feet, and the slam as the door closed automatically
behind them.
Logan began feeling his way along the wall, completely blinded by the
absence of light. "Hope you don't mind," Ned said, seizing Logan's
hand and pulling him down the hall, moving easily, as though he could
see in the darkness. He's just used to it, Logan told himself, but
suddenly he wasn't so sure. He tried to count steps and directions so
he'd be able to find his way back, but they made so many twists and
turns, he quickly lost track.
Note to self, carry flashlight, Logan thought.
Ned unlocked another door. It must have raised markings he can feel in
the darkness, Logan thought, but as low light leaked from inside the
room after the door was open, he looked back and saw the lock was
completely smooth. His frown deepened.
"Feeling a bit trapped?" Ned asked casually as he pulled the door
closed behind them. The lights were on a dimmer switch and Ned
gradually brightened them, revealing a pristinely clean research
room. Logan's eyes were drawn to the computers lined up along one
table. "You think we're hypocritical."
"I have no judgement, actually," Logan stated.
"We had to be certain it would work," Ned told him. "Would you like to
see a demonstration?" He walked over to the computer table and
fingered a small device.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Logan told him. Now he felt
scared. An electromagnetic field could and probably would take out
the exoskeleton, leaving him paralyzed and at the mercy of
terrorists. "I believe you can do it," he added.
Ned laughed. It was a harsh, unnatural sound that prickled the skin at
the back of Logan's neck.
"What I don't understand is why," Logan said.
"They're using technology to create a new breed of soldier." Ned
looked at him. "You're too young to have been in the Balkan War."
"Yeah," Logan said.
Ned was still tapping the device. "Are you sure you don't want to
see?"
"I'm sure," Logan stated. "Where are the others?"
"They don't like to come down here," Ned explained.
"But this is where you're going to shelter yourselves from the pulse
when you detonate it," Logan said. That much was obvious.
"There's no real need to seek shelter from the pulse itself. The human
body is able to withstand a great deal more magnetic pull than
computers can. But the chaos after..." Ned finally put down his
test-sized device and Logan relaxed.
"I would think you'd want to use the chaos to your advantage."
"Once the pulse is set off, our work will largely be done," Ned said.
"People weren't smart enough to get it the first time around.
Technology feeds war, and war destroys lives. The old, simple ways
are best."
"Why do you believe that so strongly?" Logan inquired.
"Do you know what technology has created?" Ned asked. "It's not just
about the megacorporations and the television networks and the
hoverdrones. Robots are costing people jobs. They're costing them
their lives. Computers affect every walk of human life. There's a
wellspring of projects to manipulate everything from crops to human
genetics."
"Which one offends you the most?" Logan asked.
"You ask a lot of questions."
"I'm still a reporter," Logan reminded him.
Ned nodded. "I am, of course, offended by it all."
"Surely there's one thing that stands out," Logan prodded.
"Let me show you our preparations," Ned offered, moving into the next
room, which was brightly lit.
"UV?" Logan asked.
"Clever, aren't they?" Ned asked. "No microchips involved. They're
basically solar panels. Go ahead, check it out."
Logan peered into the light, then turned it this way and that. It was
connected to a thin tube, which connected to a larger tube running up
through the earthen ceiling. Most of the panel was coated with
reflective, almost mirror-like surfacing.
"Works better than those hydroponics experiments. So twentieth-century
," Ned continued. He moved among the crops that were growing in the
soil. "Looks puny because you're used to the genetically engineered
stuff, but look at that color." He plucked an apple from a small
tree. "Taste that."
"I already ate," said Logan.
"You're a cautious man. Perhaps too cautious," Ned said, taking a
deep, crunchy bite of the apple and letting its juice run down his
chin.
"I think I've seen enough," Logan said, not looking forward to the
journey out.
"Are you going to expose us?"
"If I did, would it change your plans?"
"You don't approve. Pity," said Ned. "I thought you were a true
believer." He started for the door and for one long, claustrophobic
second, Logan thought the other man was going to leave him behind.
"Aren't you coming?" Ned glanced back at him.
"Right behind you," Logan reported, following closely. Staring at the
back of Ned's skull.
"Just need to grab a few things," Ned said, moving quickly and
gathering some supplies from here and there in the main room into a
cloth sack, which he slung over his shoulder. The strap brushed
against the hair at the back of his neck, revealing, for the briefest
second before he cut the lights, plunging them into darkness, exactly
what Logan had expected to see there.
The thin black lines of a barcode tattoo.
_ _ _
Max stood at attention in Renfro's office, trying to hide the fact
that she was completely freaking out.
"How did it make you feel?" the woman hissed at her.
"I didn't feel anything," Max lied.
Renfro chuckled. "I'm on to you, Max," she said, her lips curling up
into the evil semblance of a smile. Max said nothing. Kept her
expression blank. "I know you like it. Killing them. You'd kill me
now if you had the opportunity."
You'd better believe it, Max thought.
"You...and Brin...you're not like the others," Renfro continued.
Would Brin kill Renfro, given the opportunity? If so, kissing her ass
was a pretty funny way of showing it.
"As much as I hate to admit it, the time you spent fending for
yourselves out there made you stronger. Not better soldiers -- the
amount of training you missed can never be recovered, especially
during your formative years," the woman continued. "But it's given
you hatred. And passion. It's given you the edge that even the X-7s
lack."
Max continued to stand there, saying nothing.
Renfro cocked her head. "What do you think I should do about that,
Max?" she asked.
"I don't know, ma'am." As Lydecker used to tell them repeatedly, they
weren't there to stand around and think. Max felt a twinge, knowing
Lydecker was dead now, and at her hand. Compared to Renfro, he'd been
a saint.
"We'll have to give it some consideration, won't we, Max?" Renfro
suggested.
"Of course," Max responded.
Renfro nodded, apparently satisfied. "Dismissed."
What the hell was that? Max asked herself. It was only fifteen minutes
before their usual rising time, so it was a good thing she didn't
need any sleep. Max's second thought was more important: how could
she use it to her advantage?
_ _ _
Jondy jumped when she heard the front door slam. Mere seconds later,
Logan appeared. He stopped short in the doorway to his bedroom. Jondy
managed a smile. "I wasn't expecting you back."
"Obviously." Logan didn't move, just stood there, staring at her.
"Sorry about this." Jondy started to get up, tossing back the covers
she'd pulled around herself.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanted to find out where my brothers and sisters are. I have the
feeling you know more than you're telling," Jondy said.
"And you thought you'd find it in my journal?" Logan asked.
"Girl's gotta start somewhere," she shrugged.
"Wouldn't the computer have been a more logical place?"
"Logic's overrated," she said, with a wicked grin. She was having
trouble feeling ashamed of herself. It was sort of fun throwing him
so far off guard.
"Get out of here," he growled.
"But then you'd miss me," Jondy said. She still had the book in her
hands, moving her fingers lightly over the worn leather cover. Logan
crossed the room in an instant and ripped it away from her, flinging
it. It hit the wall so hard, some pages bounced out of it. "What's
got you so worked up?" Jondy asked, playing innocent again.
"I've had enough. Of you, of Manticore, all of it. You want the
information, it's on the computer. Nice and easy, in a file called
X-5. The password's Max. Take it and get out."
"I'm going to start thinking you don't like me," Jondy said.
He shoved her toward the door.
"You don't really want to get in a fight with me. You'll lose," Jondy
cautioned.
"Shut up!" Logan yelled.
That's when the room began to shake. Logan reached for the wall to
hang on, his first thought of an earthquake. But this was more subtle
than an earthquake, more of a vibration. A loud buzzing filled the
air, strong enough to make his teeth ache. The lights hummed as they
slowly faded to off, as though all the power had been sucked directly
out of them.
His knees buckled, and he hit the ground hard.
It stopped as quickly as it had began. "I didn't --" Jondy's eyes were
wide with fear.
"I know," Logan said.
"What was that?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.
"Electromagnetic pulse," Logan said. From where he sat on the floor he
could see outside. Lights continued to glow, cars moved down the
street in orderly patterns. "Localized, by the looks of it."
"Get up," said Jondy.
Ned must have slipped the device to him somehow with his noticing it.
Set it on a timer, Logan thought, working it out. He was furious,
mostly with himself, for being so stupid and naive as to think he
could go meet with May 22 without repercussions.
"Get up," Jondy said again.
"I can't," Logan told her. The look Jondy shot him was wild. She
didn't know. How could she -- he'd never told her. And even though
his journal would have told her more than enough about his private
feelings for Max, he'd never written so much as one word about his
severed spine. Some feelings ran too deep for words.
He sighed. "Open the closet," he said in a very calm voice. Jondy did
as she was told. "Reach in the back." She stuck her arm inside as
though she thought a monster living in there would bite her fingers
off. "You're looking for a wheelchair." Jondy looked over her
shoulder at him. He nodded.
She pulled it out of the closet. She stared at him. He wished she
would look away as he used his arms to pull himself up into the
chair. It was more of a struggle than it should have been. He'd grown
too dependent on the exoskeleton. Another mistake.
He wheeled into the computer room, knowing what he'd find. He checked
anyway, going through the motions, testing his lifeless equipment.
"Damn," he said. The word was completely inadequate.
"I don't understand," Jondy said. She'd completely lost her tough
veneer.
"I met with the terrorists who are planning to re-pulse the world,"
Logan said. "He must have planted something on me. Worked, too." He
rolled out of the computer room to where he'd dropped his jacket when
he came inside. There it was, inside his pocket, small enough to fit
inside the palm of his hand. "Guess I wasn't as convincing as I
thought." He tossed it to Jondy and she caught it, looking at it
briefly before dropping it disinterestedly on the table. "As it
happens, the leader of the group has a special interest in Manticore,"
Logan continued.
"What's that?" Jondy asked.
"They created him."