Reintegration Page 16

  Mineko smiled. It really was sweet how hopeless Valerie proved to be. “I need your address, remember. And a time would be good.”

  “Oh! Of course! I live in Urban Enclave Eight. It’s a tower residence, Tower Three. I have the fourteenth level. And, uh, six PM?”

  “Thank you, that sounds good. I’ll see you there at six.”

  “Oh, good. Um. Goodbye for now. The door is opening, you see, I have to rush…” There was a tremendous clattering sound. “Oh, I dropped my phone! It’s not broken, thankfully, but I gave myself quite a fright…”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t damaged. I’ll see you tonight.” Mineko tapped the disconnect button, and the tablet became silent.

  Well, how about that—a private dinner with the head of Project Sky, approved by Lachlan Reed. It was hard to imagine a greater stroke of luck. The next time she spoke to Lexi, Mineko would be able to explain everything about her implant, and everyone would be impressed. Kade would marvel at how clever she was, Callie would be proud of her…

  The prospect of helping the others had reversed Mineko’s mood entirely, and now evening couldn’t come soon enough. It helped that Valerie wasn’t a daunting personality. Perhaps she too felt alienated from Codist society. Despite the age difference, it wasn’t implausible they might have things in common after all. And Mineko had liked her worried eyes, her apprehensive smile.

  Was this sufficient justification to use the radio phone Callie had given her? Surely they’d be interested in hearing her news. And she was so very desperate to know if they were still safe.

  Mineko hopped off the bed, opened her wardrobe and stood on her toes. Running her hand along the top shelf, she bumped her fingers against the radio phone. It only had two buttons, one a sliding switch marked Receive, the other a depressible button marked Transmit. Simple enough.

  Mineko slid the switch, and static hissed. Her heart trembling, she held down the transmission button. “This is Blue calling…”

  Several agonizing seconds passed. The phone produced nothing but ominous dead noise. “This is Blue. Is anyone—”

  The static cleared. “This is Bunker One. Please re-identify yourself.” The voice was unfamiliar, but whoever he was, he sounded serious.

  “My codename is Blue. I was told I could use this line.”

  “Acknowledged, Blue. What do you have to transmit?”

  How likely was it that someone could intercept this radio transmission? Callie had said the channel was encrypted, but could these revolutionaries be sure that Lachlan’s team hadn’t already cracked it?

  Yet Mineko had to take the risk. “Is Callie Roux there?”

  “Please hold for a moment.”

  The static returned, and Mineko clutched the phone tight. Why was it taking so long? Had something happened to them? Why had she even done this stupid thing? She should have waited until she had a better reason.

  The line became clear again, and a new voice—mellow, male—spoke. “Good morning, Blue. I’m Nikolas Reinhold, Commander of Open Hand.”

  “Oh. Hello. Aren’t you apprehensive about talking to a Codist?”

  “You came with excellent character references. Though I must say, you sound younger than I expected. But youth is no impediment to greatness, isn’t that so?”

  So, revolutionaries were a little strange. It was to be expected, perhaps. “Are they all right? My friends?”

  “They are very well, but I’m afraid you can’t speak to them. They’re being relocated to another bunker. We had a security incident last night.”

  “An incident?” Mineko swallowed hard. “What happened?”

  “Nothing that should concern you. The chief outcome was to convince me Alexis is better suited to a remote location.” Nikolas made a thoughtful humming noise. “I’ll see if I can arrange a way for you to contact them later today, but at the moment, I have other preoccupations. I trust you have nothing urgent to share?”

  Mineko sank onto her bed, flattened by disappointment. She hadn’t realized until now how badly she wanted to hear their voices, Callie’s most of all. “No. Nothing urgent.”

  Another hum, this time sympathetic. “Do keep yourself safe, my young comrade. Those who liberate themselves are the bravest of us all.”

  The static returned, and Mineko flicked the switch. So much for that.

  CHAPTER 12

  Kade jumped his bike to the curb, sped past the glittering asphalt and bounced back to the road. Good thing he’d spotted the glass in time—this wasn’t the kind of neighborhood a smart person walked through. In the inner districts, the gangs focused their violence on each other, wary of drawing the attention of the Codists. Out here, though, a different rule prevailed: live by the switchblade, die by the switchblade.

  Callie had parked her van outside a ramshackle office building. Nobody was visible but Zeke, who sat between the van’s open rear doors. It was hard to admire the profane body modder, who had become a big figure in Lexi’s life right about the time she’d started to grow distant from Kade, but there was no reason not to give him a chance. Kade called out his name.

  Zeke raised his head, and morning light glittered off his piercings. “Nice bike.”

  Kade dismounted. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Callie’s around back trying to get the power working. The others are just inside. Apparently, it’s a shithole in there.”

  “Nikolas told me what happened last night. How’s everyone doing?”

  “We’re okay. Keeping it together.” Zeke grinned. “Fucking Lex, though. She’s already picked up some girl, Riva, and brought her along. Cute wisp with a Mohawk. Callie seems keen on her too. It’s all a big, queer-lady love-in.”

  “And you’re doing what now, exactly?”

  “Me? Just keeping my head down. I mean, we can’t all be fucking cyborgs or smugglers or crazy guerilla fighters.” Zeke indicated the door with a tilt of his head. “Your scary friend is in there.”

  “I assume you mean Amity. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. Tell her to lighten up a little, huh?”

  Not much hope of that. Kade entered the building via its front door. Sunlight illuminated a filthy reception room. A front desk lay in two splintered halves, and every window pane was shattered, with the shards still strewn across the floor. Amity stood at the far side of the room, wrestling with a doorknob.

  She turned. “What are you doing here?”

  It was, from Amity, tantamount to a warm welcome. “Investigative journalism. You don’t have the key for this door?”

  “I thought I did, but it doesn’t fit. I’m going to have to get that smuggler to open it.” Amity thumped the door with her palm. “This place scarcely qualifies as a bunker anymore. It’s been abandoned for years.”

  “I heard about the events of last night. Why did you do it?”

  “Because she’s an asset. And to my endless surprise, she has potential.”

  Now that was unexpected. According to Nikolas, Amity had expressed nothing but animosity toward Lexi from the moment she’d arrived. “I guess you’ve finally seen her in action,” Kade said.

  For no obvious reason, Amity reddened. “I need to get this door open, if you don’t mind. And it’s about time these lights came on—”

  The sound of lively chattering interrupted her. Lexi entered the room accompanied by a skinny, olive-complexioned woman wearing a black tank top, tight jeans, and tall, buckled boots. Her exquisite face, haunting blue-gray eyes, and vibrant pink Mohawk made her seem more than a match for the handsome hedonist beside her. Riva, surely.

  “Shit,” said Lexi. “This place does have rats.” Carefully measured syllables of contempt.

  “Lexi.” Kade made eye contact without fear—he had nothing to hide from her. “Did Nikolas give you the photo?”

  The hostility left Lexi’s face, replaced by a sheepish expression. “Yeah.”

  And with that, the tension seemed to break. “I’m Kade August.” Kade extended his hand to Riva. “R
evolutionary People’s Gazette.”

  Riva allowed her hand to be shaken. “Riva Latour. I love your writing, comrade. It’s an honor.”

  “You’re very kind.” Kade admired her again. Pretty enough to make him wish he’d shaved.

  Lexi sauntered over to Amity. “You still struggling with this door, sweet thing? I’d have thought a badass like you would just kick it down.”

  “I’m going to find the smuggler,” said Amity, her voice strained, and hurried from the room. Lexi watched her leave, grinning like a satisfied feline. Something was going on there. Eventually Kade would get to the bottom of it. For now, however, he was more interested in Riva.

  “I heard that you came here from Bunker One,” he said.

  “Nikolas wanted a volunteer to make our guests comfortable,” Riva said. “I’ll be cooking, cleaning, and, if this morning is any indication, continually swatting Lexi’s hand away from my ass.”

  Kade raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give Lexi a free pass to be a pig.”

  “I just figure our friendship has developed to that stage.” Lexi draped an arm over Riva’s shoulders. “I like this girl, August. She had me cooking, can you believe it?”

  “Not until I see it for myself.” It was strange—nostalgic—to be talking to Lexi this way. A temporary truce, no doubt, facilitated by Riva’s presence and the odd circumstances.

  “You might not get the chance. In a few days, I’m off to Port Venn, according to Nicky-boy. Mind you, Callie’s going to kick up a fuss if we leave without her precious Minnie-Min.”

  “So she’s still determined to rescue her?”

  “Yup. She’s been mooning about all morning. Though as I remember, that’s standard practice for our Callie Roux. At least she’s still getting shit done. Which reminds me…” Lexi slunk to the door. “Hey, Zeke, you lazy fuck! Come help us clear this junk out of the corridor!”

  An indignant shout returned: “I got delicate hands. You know that!”

  “Riva’s got delicate hands too, you asshole, and she’s working her ass off.”

  “I gotta be able to hold a scalpel! I can’t do no fucking lifting or whatever!”

  “You’re a pathetic piece of shit, you know that?” Lexi stepped back from the door. “Someone help me drag the bastard inside.”

  “He’s a surgeon.” Riva’s laughter was charming: husky, soft, and warmed by wry amusement. “I think we can excuse him this once.”

  “I’ll help you,” said Kade. “What’s in the way?”

  “Heavy boxes stacked on each other. I can’t say I’m sure why. They’re in the hallway to the basement where the bunker facilities are.”

  “Odd. And there’s still no light?”

  “Not until Callie fixes the wires,” said Lexi. “Lucky her van is full of tools. Not least of them Zeke.”

  Riva laughed again, and Lexi gave Kade a smug look. He knew that expression very well—check out how great I am. He’d not missed that one so much.

  “Come on,” she said. “I want to see what’s behind those boxes.”

  * * *

  Lexi and Riva struggled to shift the smaller boxes while Kade applied himself to moving the largest. The most formidable was an immense white crate that Kade pushed aside with both hands, grunting with each shove.

  “That must be a heavy sucker,” said Lexi. “What’s in it?”

  “Printer cartridges,” said Riva. “It says so on the side.” Hands on her hips, she surveyed their work. They’d almost cleared a path to the stairwell at the far end of the hall. “Powerful cyborg that you are, Lexi, I don’t suppose you’d like to move the last one?”

  Lexi knelt before the final box, slipped her fingers beneath it and groaned as she stood. “Hell, this is hard. Why do I have to do it?”

  “To impress me, maybe?”

  “I assumed you were interested in my personality, not my physique.”

  “Yes, but now that I’ve experienced your personality, your physique is your last hope.”

  Unexpectedly brutal. Kade chuckled, and Lexi gave him an unexpected grin. “Don’t take sides, journalist. Remain objective.” A light bulb flickered into life above them. “All praise the goddess Roux. Let’s take a look.”

  An Open Hand sigil had been sprayed above the stairwell that descended into the clammy air of an underground passage. Kade took several quick steps to get ahead. If there was trouble ahead, he’d prefer it came to him before the women. Of course, if he admitted that sentiment out loud, Lexi would punch him in the mouth.

  As they advanced into the gloom, Lexi’s eyes shone with white luminescence. Riva drew a startled breath. “Lexi, your eyes.”

  “It’s my vision aug.” Lexi turned the spectral glow on Riva. “Sexy, isn’t it?”

  “Does that mean you can see down here?”

  “A little, but not much. Kade, find a switch, won’t you?”

  Kade fumbled against the wall and brushed a knob of plastic. With an erratic flicker, several fluorescent tubes activated overhead. It seemed they were standing in an old galley. Charred kitchen equipment took up one corner, and several dining tables occupied another.

  Another light tube glowed, and something moved in the shadows of an adjacent room. A thrill crawled down Kade’s neck. “Stay back.” They wouldn’t listen, but it was the kind of thing a tough guy like him had to say. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Like hell.” Lexi headed toward the source of the sound, and Kade hastened to keep up. They entered the next room. Lexi hit the switch.

  An unkempt man was pressed against a cement wall, his chest heaving with exertion. Matted hair concealed his face. “Get out,” he said in a broken rasp. He drew a switchblade from his ragged jacket and ejected it. “Don’t come near me.”

  Kade stayed in the doorway, his eyes on the blade and his pulse quickening. The man may have been a wreck, but the edge on his knife seemed plenty sharp. “This bunker belongs to Open Hand.”

  “Nothing belongs to fucking nobody.”

  “It’s okay.” Riva advanced a few steps into the room. “We can share. There’s plenty of space for everyone.”

  “Don’t go near him,” said Kade. “He’s dangerous.”

  “We don’t know that.” Riva took another step forward, her palms raised. “Nobody means you harm. We’re looking for shelter too.”

  The squatter brandished the switchblade. “Get your own place.”

  “Riva, come back.” Lexi’s voice held no trace of its usual cockiness—she was anxious, and nakedly so. “Let me handle this.”

  “Don’t worry.” Riva arrived at the middle of the room, and the man tensed. “I’m Riva. Some friends of mine usually look after this shelter, but they’d be happy to let you stay. And we’d like to take refuge with you.”

  The man’s hands began to shake, and he gave a racking cough. “I told you to get out. It’s my place.”

  This was dicey, but what could Kade do? Clearly, Riva was one of Open Hand’s true believers, a genuine adherent to its charitable teachings. If she were anywhere near as stubborn as Nikolas, nothing would sway her. Good old Comrade Reinhold tended to raise stubborn acolytes.

  “It’s our place,” Riva said. “Not yours, not mine, but ours. Didn’t you just say so yourself? Nothing belongs to anyone.”

  The switchblade lowered an inch. “Right. I said that.”

  “So it can’t be your place. Only our place.” Riva held out her hand. “We have food, water, and blankets. We’ve started up the generator. You can be warm and fed tonight. Please let us share what we have.”

  “Them two back there.” With the tip of his blade, the man pointed to Kade and Lexi. “They want to kick me out. They don’t want to share nothing.”

  “They’re cautious. Scared. Same as you.” Still that gentle, understanding tone.

  “Well, I ain’t giving you my fucking flick knife.”

  “I’m not asking for your knife. I’m only asking for your hand.”

  Someone clattered down the
stairwell behind them. Callie’s cheerful voice rang out. “Hey, anyone down here?”

  “Fucking liar!” The man lunged, and Riva screamed. Panic erupted—Riva stumbling, Lexi dashing, the man raising his knife again…

  A moment of clarity lit the chaos. Kade rushed the man and drove him hard against the wall. Pinned the squirming, emaciated body to the bricks. Raised his fist.

  “No!” From her limp position in Lexi’s arms, Riva held out her bleeding palm. “Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it.”

  “What’s going on?” Callie sounded breathless as she jogged into the room. “I heard a scream. Riva, are you okay? Did this guy hurt you?”

  “Not as much as we’ll hurt him if we put him back on the street.” Riva closed her eyes. “I’m a little dizzy.”

  Kade lowered his fist and backed down. The man stood subdued and shivering with his head lowered. “Do you understand what just happened here?” Kade said.

  The man staggered to the furthest corner of the room and crouched there, a huddle of dirty limbs, torn clothing, and unwashed hair. “I didn’t want to hurt her. But this is my place.”

  “Don’t tell Amity.” Riva’s face glistened with sweat. “Just say I cut myself.”

  “Let’s get you fixed up,” said Lexi. “Come on.” She guided Riva from the room with an arm around her waist.

  Callie fidgeted, as if anxious to follow. “The poor thing. Do you think she’s okay?”

  “Let’s hope so,” said Kade. “Where’s Amity?”

  “Tearing into Zeke. She was pissed that he was lazing about in the van.” Callie hunkered down in front of the trembling man. “Hey, guy. You can’t just sit there forever, you know.”

  The man slowly turned his head toward her. His shaking eased, and he blinked several times as if coming to consciousness. “You’re pretty.”

  “And you’re filthy. When’s the last time you had a bath?”

  “Bath’s a waste of water.” The man produced a cough that might, from a different set of lungs, have been a chuckle. “Hope I didn’t cut her bad.”

  “Me too. She’s a friend of mine. But you gotta worry about yourself as well, and we have a doc. He might be able to take a look at you.”