Partials series 1-3 (Partials; Fragments; Ruins)

He walked in silence, and she did the same. After everything I’ve done to him, will he even trust me anymore?

They made their way down the hall to the radiology center and found a private room. Marcus eased her onto the exam table, and she let out a gasp as the weight came off her leg. She felt like she’d been running a marathon through a sea of broken glass. The MRI machine was smaller than the DORD in her lab—just a doughnut instead of a full-body box, and not nearly as powerful—but its electromagnetic field was exactly what she needed.

“I need to go turn it on,” said Marcus. He ran to the viewing room, fiddled with the controls, and Kira took a deep breath. This is it. This is either the beginning, or the end. The machine hummed to life, the powerful magnetic field washing over her, and she reached out her hand as Marcus came back.

“We don’t have much time, so just listen,” said Kira, leaning back while the MRI ran its sequence. “Mkele has me under heavy surveillance, and I am almost certainly wearing some kind of listening device. The field from this machine will disrupt it, but I don’t know how much time we’ll have before his goons get suspicious.” She glanced over at him, and then faced forward again. “Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” She felt him staring at her, but she kept her eyes forward.

“Yes. Of course I trust you. What’s going on?”

“The Senate set the bomb that blew up my lab. They killed Shaylon and threatened me. This entire thing—Samm, the studies, the bomb—has all been a ploy to generate enough fear, aimed in a precise direction, to cement their power over the island. Now they’re using this scenario in order to—” She dropped her eyes, then found her courage and finally looked at him. “Marcus, they’re going to kill Samm.”

She saw something play across his face. Whether it was horror or shock or jealousy, she couldn’t tell. His eyes flicked up toward the ceiling, then slowly turned back to her.

“Kira,” he said, “they were always going to kill it. To kill . . . Samm. You know this.” His voice was even and controlled, enough that she knew he must have been repressing something powerful. “Besides, why would they blow up their own people? Their own hospital?”

“Because it’s part of their plans,” said Kira. “I could never figure out why I got the assignment to study Samm, but this must have been it. I’m just a plague baby to them, the least experienced medic and the most expendable. If the bomb had killed me, they could have used me as a martyr, but since I lived, they offered me a role as their figurehead; the brave young scientist who survived the Partial attack.”

“The Partials set the bomb?”

“The Senate set the bomb, I told you that. But they’re going to blame Samm, they’re going to kill him, and they’re going to use his death to rally support.” She begged him with her eyes, willing him to believe. “They told Shaylon to go to the window, Marcus. They told him to stand right next to the wall before they blew it up.”

“No,” said Marcus, shaking his head. “It was the Voice—they’ve been attacking East Meadow for weeks, there’s probably at least one cell of them here in the city.” But as he was speaking, she could hear the doubt creeping into his voice.

“Did anyone actually see them?” asked Kira. “Did anyone actually attack the hospital, or did the military just say they did to cover their own tracks?”

Marcus stared at her, saying nothing.

“I know it sounds crazy,” said Kira, but Marcus cut her off.

“No, it’s not crazy. Coming from Xochi it would sound crazy, but from you . . .” He took her hand. “I trust you, Kira. If you say that they’re trying to kill you, then I believe that they’re trying to kill you.”

Kira closed her eyes, praying to anyone who would listen. Thank you, thank you, thank you. She looked at Marcus and spoke quickly. “I don’t know how much longer we have before someone comes to see why the listening bug isn’t working.” She took a deep breath. “We need to break him out—I’ll explain everything later, but that’s our goal: We get him out, we take him north, and we follow him home. They’re dying, just like we are, and they’ve offered a truce. We’re going to take them up on it.”

Marcus stuttered, searching for words. “Are you nuts?”

“He saved me, Marcus. Samm had the chance to run when the bomb hit: He was free from his bonds, and no one was watching, and there was a giant hole in the wall. He could have run and been free, but he picked up the DORD that was electrocuting me and saved my life.”

Marcus froze, looking her straight in the eyes—in her eyes and past them, to something she could only imagine. The pain in his face nearly broke her heart.

“I should have . . . ,” he said. his gaze still lost. “I tried to . . .”

“You tried to save me and I wouldn’t listen.” Kira choked back a sob. “I’ve been reckless and stupid and I know it, and now I’m in too deep, and I know you want to pull me out and make me safe but we can’t do it—not yet. I need you to come with me. I know it’s dangerous, and I know you don’t want to do it, but I need you, Marcus. I need you to believe me; I need you to trust me. I need to hear you say you’ll come with me.”

Marcus stayed silent. He rubbed his eyes, pulled on his face, gritted his teeth. Kira covered her mouth with her hands, blowing out a long breath, never taking her eyes off him. Please, Marcus. Please say yes.

Marcus stood, turning to the side. Kira closed her eyes, crying silently.

“I’ll do it,” he said. Kira’s eyes flew open.

“You will?”

He stepped back to the table. “I’ll help you break him out, I’ll help you take him home, I’ll do anything for you. For you.”

“Oh, Marcus . . .”

“Last time you left, it killed me. I’m not going to let you do this on your own.” He stared at her, loving and longing, then turned and threw his hands helplessly in the air. “Now, how the hell are we going to do it?”

Her mouth opened and closed. She had no idea. “Whatever it is, we have to do it tonight.”

“We’ll need Xochi’s help,” said Marcus. “Xochi and Isolde at the very least. Jayden and Haru if we can convince them to help.”

Kira shook her head. “They’re never going to trust a Partial. We have to do this without them.”

Marcus whistled low. “This is crazy.” He shrugged. “Get Xochi and Isolde together, and give me some time to gather a few things. We’ll meet at your place in two hours.”

“Perfect,” said Kira. “Now get back over there and run some kind of analysis on the images this thing just took—anything at all, it doesn’t matter, we just need this to look like a real MRI.”

Marcus nodded and ran to the computer, sitting down and typing something out. Barely a minute later a soldier poked his head in the door: Kira was lying quietly on the table, and Marcus was in the viewing room, watching the screen. The soldier looked around, nodded, and went back outside.

Marcus waited until the door was shut, then met her gaze and stared. Kira stared back.

They had two hours.

Kira flexed her leg. She’d been tempted to use the regen box again, but it seemed to be healing just fine, it was the pain that was the problem; she’d split the difference and given herself a prodigious shot of painkillers. She checked the wrapping on her burn a final time, making sure it was tight, and pulled on her pants. She walked with a limp, and she was more than a little dizzy, but at least she could walk.

She peeked out of her room; she was still unguarded. Either the senators believed her willingness to go along with their plan, or they thought Mkele’s surveillance was enough to keep tabs on her. Which wasn’t to say that the hall was clear of guards: There were at least ten, maybe more, armed to the teeth and clustered around a door at the far end. At least we know where they’re keeping Samm, Kira thought. She slipped into the hall and limped briskly in the other direction. Sandy wasn’t at her desk. Kira still had a little luck left.

It was nearly dusk now, a familiar half-light she recognized from so many long days at work, but tonight the familiarity made her heart catch in her throat. She couldn’t help but wonder if this would be her last time in East Meadow—her last time crossing the turnpike, her last time passing the big blue house on the corner, her last time watching the sushi vendors amble slowly down the sidewalks. She turned on her street, let herself into her house, and quietly packed her backpack with everything it would hold: extra lights and batteries, several pairs of dry socks, a knife and a set of tools. She broke down her rifle and stowed that as well, concealing it in the backpack as best she could—it wouldn’t be a military operation this time, so all they’d have were the weapons they brought with them. She still had Isolde’s pistol strapped to her hip—hardly an uncommon accessory these days—and made sure to pack plenty of ammunition for both weapons. Last of all she grabbed her medkit, sealed her bags tightly, and set them by the front door, waiting for the others to arrive. She sat down, frowned, and realized that Nandita still hadn’t come back from her trip.

Nandita had been gone longer now than she ever had before, and Kira wandered into the kitchen, suddenly anxious. Everything looked normal enough. She walked to the back of the house, and when she found no one she sped up, taking a full inventory of the house. Nandita wasn’t anywhere.

Did the police take her? Was she attacked while collecting herbs? It was possible she’d simply left, like Kira was doing now, packing her essentials and heading out to a farm or another outlying community, but she never would have left without saying something. This doesn’t feel right.

Marcus came first, nodding to Kira in silence and slowly sweeping her with a digital stethoscope; she looked at it quizzically, but he motioned for her to be patient. Xochi and Isolde came a few minutes later, and Kira kept them silent while they watched Marcus search the rest of the room. The scope beeped softly as he ran it past the speaker hub, and he spoke loudly and clearly.

“Hey, Xochi, is it okay if I listen to some music?”

“Sure,” said Xochi, just as clearly. She glanced at Kira, and Kira could see from the gleam in her eyes that she’d figured out what Marcus was doing. They turned to watch him work.

Marcus went to the hub, pulled out a monogrammed pod—KAYLEIGH, 2052—scanned it fruitlessly, then unplugged the hub unit itself and pulled it from the shelf, turning it over and around and examining it from every angle. He paused, looking at the back of it and motioned for the girls to come and see. He pointed through the black metal grille to a small object hidden inside, and they nodded and stepped back.

“Be careful with that drink,” said Xochi. “Last time you almost ruined my player.”

Kira filled a bucket of water in the kitchen and set it in front of Marcus. He crouched over it with the stereo.

“Thanks. Oh, crap—!” He plunged the stereo into the bucket, bugged speaker first, and held it under for a few seconds. He tried the scope again, found no signal, and smiled. He ran a quick scan of both Xochi and Isolde, found nothing, and nodded to Kira. She connected KAYLEIGH, 2052 to a smaller speaker, cranked it as loud as it would go, and set it in the center of the room.

Marcus held up the digital scope. “I was one of the on-call medics when the bomb went off this morning, and I happened to get this thing a little too close to one of Mkele’s listening devices in your lab. Looks like it makes a pretty good detector.” He dropped it on the couch. “The room’s clear, and anyone listening from outside will have a hard time hearing over this.”

Kira looked at each of her friends in turn. “We’re about to commit treason, so if anyone wants to back out, now’s a really good time to do it.”

Xochi looked at Kira. “Is this what I think it is?”

Kira shrugged. “Do you think it’s a plan to attack the hospital, free the Partial, take him home, and conspire with his people to save the world?”

Xochi’s eyes went wide. “Actually no, I wasn’t really thinking that at all.” She shook her head, a quick jerk as if she was shaking water from her face. “Rescue the Partial? Are you serious?”

“They’ve offered a truce, and the Senate has rejected it.” Kira took a deep breath. “If I can work with them I can cure RM—I know I can. But you’ve got to trust me.”

Xochi’s jaw worked up and down, lost for words. Finally she nodded. “I trust you, Kira. Let’s commit some treason.”

“Rock on,” said Marcus. Isolde nodded as well, but looked pale and nervous.

Kira sat down, speaking softly even with the music blaring, just in case. “The Senate has lost it. They blew up the hospital so they could frame Samm, and now they’re going to kill him in a political power play. Madison’s baby is coming any day now, and we still don’t have a cure, and the Voice is practically champing at the bit to stage a coup.”

Xochi grimaced. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ve got to get Samm out of the hospital and off the island,” said Kira. “Start by packing clothes, camping gear, and weapons, and meet me at the corner of Turnpike and Prospect in an hour. Isolde,” she said, unbuckling the pistol holster, “I’ve still got your gun—”

“I can’t go with you.”

“You said you were in,” said Xochi.

“I’ll do everything I can from here,” said Isolde. “I just can’t leave.”

“We’ll need everyone we can get if things go bad out there,” said Kira.

“I can’t go,” Isolde insisted. “If it were just me, I’d be with you, but I’m . . .” She paused. “I’m pregnant.”

Kira’s jaw fell open. “You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant,” said Isolde. “I found out this morning. You know I’ll help you, but I . . . I can’t risk it.” She looked Kira in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Kira shook her head, still trying to parse the information. She looked at Isolde’s belly, still supermodel flat, then up at her face. “Was it . . . artificial?”

Isolde shook her head. “Senator Hobb.”

Kira gasped.

“Was it consensual?” snarled Xochi. “Because if it wasn’t, I’m going to take a detour to the Senate chambers on my way out of town, and I’m going to shoot him first.”

“No,” said Isolde quickly, “there was nothing improper—well, I guess he’s my boss, which is improper, but he didn’t force me. I wanted him to. We were working late, and I—”

“Were you drunk?” asked Marcus.

“That’s Isolde’s business,” said Kira. “She said it was her choice.” She flashed Xochi a hard look. “We can shoot him when we get back. Isolde will stay behind and cover our trail. She did it perfectly last time.”

“What is our trail?” asked Marcus. “Even if we can get him out of the hospital, what then? Down through Brooklyn, like you did before?”

Kira shook her head. “They’ll be watching that route as soon as they figure out what we’re doing. We need to head north, and cross the sound.”

The room fell silent; the very idea was terrifying. None of them knew how to pilot a boat, and Xochi was the only strong swimmer in the group. Plus, the land between here and there was riddled with the Voice.

“She’s right,” said Xochi slowly. “There’s too much Defense Grid between us and Manhattan; north is the best way.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “How helpful is this Partial going to be? Does he know where to find a boat?”

“There are boats all along the North Shore,” said Kira. “We see them all the time on salvage runs. All we have to do is find one with a full tank of gas—the gas’ll be old, so it’ll destroy the engine, but it should get us across before the engine dies.”

“If we can make it there,” said Marcus. “The way things are these days, the Voice are more likely than ever to attack a group from East Meadow.”

“They’re not going to go after a bunch of unarmed kids,” said Xochi.

Kira shook her head. “Oh, we’ll be armed.”

“Still,” said Xochi, “they’re revolutionaries, not murderers.”

“You’re planning too far in advance,” said Isolde. “None of this will matter if you can’t get Samm out of the hospital. Or if you can’t even get into the hospital.”

“That’s the hard part,” Kira admitted. “They’re holding him in a reinforced room on the first floor—I saw it on my way out. It’s swarming with guards. If we can find a way to surprise them—”

“He’s actually not there,” said Marcus. Kira raised her eyebrows, and Marcus leaned forward to whisper. “Mkele’s set up the first-floor room as a decoy. Samm’s being held upstairs in the conference room, with just two guards on the door.”

“How do you know?” asked Xochi.

Marcus smiled and looked at Kira. “You know that new fish guy who works the hospital parking lot? I got one of the guards hooked on his oysters, and he asked me to bring him some for dinner tonight. There’s just two of them up there.” He grinned. “It pays to be nice.”

“That’ll help us get in,” said Xochi, “but as soon as we hit that room they’ll call for backup, and we’ll never get out again.”

“How about a diversion?” asked Isolde. “I won’t be with you, so what if I do something to pull all the soldiers’ attention somewhere else?”

“A diversion might work,” said Marcus, “but it’s going to have to be huge—we can’t just distract the guards, we have to put them onto something else and hope to get out in the commotion. But it has to be epic.”

Kira nodded, staring coldly at the floor. If she was in, she needed to be all in.

She spoke slowly. “How about a citywide riot?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.