The Proving (21 page)

Cleo blinked. She looked around, first to the kids who were each lurking behind their older siblings, then to the encroaching forest just beyond the fence surrounding the emergency depot’s perimeter. It was getting dark enough now that her contact lenses’ light-enhancement function no longer was effective. The kinda-nice orange glow of the sun was being replaced entirely by the dull, creepy red glow of the Ring. “Look, I’m not scared or anything, but the sun
has
set . . .”

“Is what he says true?” Ben asked the Historian. “Can you vote?”

Seamus opened his mouth, trying out different vowels before finally finding the right words. “It’s possible for a Historian to join a Coterie. It has happened in the past, under certain situations. The most recent was fifteen years ago, during a rescue operation of a mag-lev shipping transport to Neo York —”

“So vote,” Gabriel said. “Break the tie.”

The Historian looked around. He was good at making eye contact, even meeting eyes with Skye. Cleo wondered if the poor fool didn’t realize just how much she hated him. Or maybe he didn’t care. Cleo considered the possibility that he was actually a trained spy or assassin, then tossed the notion aside. Seamus was almost as awkward as Ben — too awkward to be hiding super powers.

“I vote . . . we stay the night.”

“We’re doomed,” Cleo said, throwing her hands up in the air. “We’re going to die out here.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t understand, Seamus. At least . . . at least give us a reason.”

“The Spartan is clearly a good driver,” he said, clearing his throat. “But even so, she wouldn’t be able to travel more than ten kilometers per hour under night conditions on a poor road if there is Specter activity nearby. Under similar situations, it has historically been safer to spend the night in a secure location.”

Skye, triumphant, widened her eyes at Gabriel and waved a hand at the Historian. It was just about the most un-Spartan-like thing Cleo had ever seen.

Seamus cleared his throat again. “Although to be fair, both options are dangerous.”

“Fine,” Gabriel said. “So what do we do? Do we stay in the Tumbler or do we hide away in the supply depot? Where exactly should we die?”

“Geez,” Cleo said. “And I thought
I
was melodramatic. O
bviously
we take the roof of the supply depot.”

“Why?” Skye asked, turning her head sharply in Cleo’s direction. Cleo flinched.

“Because it’s the safest place.”

“Um, she’s right,” Ben said. “The roof gives us cover. And leverage. The Manteidos Specters are the only ones that can fly. From the roof, we’ll have a vantage point to keep watch. We’ll see them coming from at least five kilometers away.”

“The Tumbler has shields,” Skye said.

“Yeah but they drain the batteries fast,” Cleo said. “I can link one of the spare personal shield systems to the depot’s solar battery and rig it to the doorway.” She ran a hand through her hair, considering the possibilities. “Oh wow that would be so wild. It would last all night! Maybe we
can
survive this.”

Gabriel just shook his head, turning away and looking out across the old empty lot, toward the forest beyond the fence. It was dark now, save for just a hint of red coming from the glow of the Ring far above. Cleo’s light enhancement program switched to night vision; the diodes in her lenses outlined all of the objects in a puke-green color. Fitting, under the circumstances.

“There’s no time left to argue,” Skye said. “Let’s grab provisions and get up to the roof.”

From somewhere inside the forest, there came a deep, mournful moan.

“
Now
,” Skye added.

The roof was surrounded by a four-foot-high rampart made of refurbished steel, complete with old rusted gutters to filter rainwater. The solar panels, in fact, could be positioned — thanks to a hack by Cleo — to provide some additional cover by reclining on their hinges. If they wanted to, they could probably sleep safe and sound.

But no one was particularly interested in sleeping, least of all Ben.

He found Wei, Tahlia, Reza and Cleo downstairs, inside the building. Reza was using the old emergency computer console. It had a holoscreen and two touchscreens but only one was turned on, currently being used for a simplistic chess-style strategy game that moved character pieces around on a 3D playing field. Character pieces that wielded ridiculously large axes and swords.

“Um, is that connected to the same battery power we’re using for your shield contraption?” he asked Cleo.

She sat up. She’d been lying next to the entrance to the staircase, using a saw from the Tumbler to cut a hole in the wall big enough for her strange robot to fit through. The thing gave Ben the chills. It was a robot with little arms, then with a simple word command it transformed into a snake-like device that could crawl inside a hole. It seemed to react to Cleo in a human-like way. Not a robot-like way. Not a dog-like way.

And that was just a little too much for him. Ben liked his automatons acting like automatons. Mixing chemicals. Printing food. That sort of stuff.

But Gabriel’s sister, on the other hand . . .

Wei was on her knees beside Cleo, peering into the hole, searching for the robot.

“What’s it doing in there?” she asked.

“Oh, you know . . . if I programmed her right, she should be finding me a green wire that I can splice.” Cleo stood up and dusted off her hands. “And yes, professor, that computer is hooked up to the depot’s battery. No, you don’t have to worry. It’s a low-drainer. The battery’s in good shape, save for a few small underground leaks.”

Ben nodded, deciding not to ask for any details. He trusted Cleo. She knew her way around electronics. Her snarky attitude didn’t exactly help during the tense situations, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn’t a jerk. Her tone suggested otherwise from time to time, even when her actions didn’t line up with that assessment. She was just a little awkward.

Aren’t we all at this age, he thought.

Ben peered around one of the shelves full of spare parts. Tahlia was walking down the aisle, shining a little LED flashlight across the shelves. “I’m going to try and convince Tahlia to get some sleep. Would you like me to take Reza up, too?”

Cleo raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I just . . . you know . . . kids.”

“Yeah. Kids.” She smiled. “You’re decent, professor. Reza! Get your butt over here!”

Ben itched the pain in his ear. The girl’s voice had an incredible decibel range. “Maybe we should keep it down. You know, in case . . .”

“The walls are thick,” Cleo said. “That’s why they call this an
emergency
supply depot. Of course, a shield system would be nice. But one big enough to cover this whole building would require a small Phenocyte reactor. And then you’d have to install some kind of dyno capacitator to maintain the amps.”

“I’m here,” Reza said.

“Go with Ben.”

“I want to finish my game.”

“You want to sleep. You’re tired.”

“Not really.”

“You didn’t sleep last night. Go with Ben.”

Ben looked down, smiling at the boy. “The sky is clear enough that we can see the Ark and the Artemis Bow. I’ll point them out. They’re pretty neat.”

Reza rolled his eyes. Rudely.

“Just go,” Cleo said. “Please.”

“Fine! But my game is saved, so you’d better transfer a copy to your VRacelet.”

“Wonderful.” Now it was Cleo’s turn to roll her eyes. Ben wondered who had picked up the bad habit from whom.

“Come on, Tahlia,” Ben called out.

Tahlia hurried back down the aisle between the shelves of small electronics, holding her hand out and watching it intently. “Ben,” she said excitedly. “Look at this!” She held out her hand, flipping it.

Ben leaned in close, watching the little thing move along Tahlia’s little palm. “Oh. A bug. Wonderful.”

Cleo held up her VRacelet, bathing the little bug in the glow of her touchscreen. “Hmm. We should probably kill it.”

“No!” Tahlia said defensively. “It’s a
tapinoma erraticum
. An erratic ant. He shouldn’t be in here. Erratic ants like the sun; they’re impossible to find at night.”

“They’re the anti-Specters,” Cleo pointed out.

Tahlia nodded, excited. The ant had given up moving, staying in place on the back of her hand, maybe enjoying the light from Cleo’s VRacelet. It was dark in color and had long, thick antennae and small eyes. “They don’t have stingers because they’re part of the subfamily
dolichoderinae
. . . so they just produce a defensive chemical compound from their butts.”

“That sounded so scientific until you said the word
butts
,” Cleo said with a smile.

Tahlia giggled. “It’s true! And erratic ants also construct solariums for their brood. It’s really cool. Ben, we have to save him. We should take him outside.”

“Um, no,” Ben said.

“But he shouldn’t be in here!”

Cleo raised a finger. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s right. It’s a total long shot, but there’s still a danger this critter might chew through the wrong wire. Total
total
long shot, but you know how paranoid we Persians can get about tech.”

“We’ll open the door,” Ben told Tahlia, “and you can put your hand down and let the ant scurry away and then we’ll shut the door. We’re not going outside, though.”

“That’s fine,” Tahlia said, tailing him to the door. “He’ll find his friends pretty easily. All he has to do is follow the pheromone trail back to his nest. Oh! And some ants can emit special pheromones that confuse enemy ants and make them fight among themselves. Isn’t that neat?”

“Yes,” Ben said. Neater for you, he wanted to add. He hoped someone at her school was taking note of her interest in zoology. She needed some opportunities to get outside the city proper or she’d just end up wandering there herself, in search of whatever elusive wildlife — foxes, rabbits, rats — lived on the edge of the shield.

Or she would go out farther. That scared him. Travel outside the shield was so limited, and only allowed during daylight, and it required a really good reason to go out there. Those were the laws. But some people broke those laws. Some scientists in Clan Athens went out, searching. Collecting. Studying. What was surviving? What was thriving?

Nothing was thriving. The delicate ecosystem outside the shield was
barely
surviving. Bees constructed their nests high up so they could avoid most of the Specters. Ants built more elaborate tunnels deep down. Larger predators like big cats and wolves had developed the sleeping pattern of a teenager: they hunted in the evening, evading Specters. They slept late into the day when it was safe.

There was more, so much more. But areas far away from the major cities could only be studied via satellite and surveillance drones. The Specters seemed less interested in wildlife the farther away from the shields they got. The insect-like Manteidos Specters only flew when a Spartan surveillance drone was in the air, and it was only to take down the drones.

What if Tahlia wanted more than her school could offer? What if someday she decided to go out and study the world up close?

Ben opened the door a crack, watching his little sister kneel down and place her hand on the ground. The little black ant scurried off and began darting left and right on the ground. Ben lost it in the darkness. He closed the door; Tahlia looked up and smiled. In the artificial LEDX light coming from the bulb over the door, Tahlia’s dimples looked more pronounced. It rolled back her age by five years. She was still just a kid, anxious to get to the park so she could call first dibs on the swing.

Ben pressed a hand down on her soft hair. “Promise me you’ll never go out without someone else,” he said.

“Of course I won’t! That’s dumb, Ben.”

“And make sure you take a Spartan.”

“I’m not
going out
, Ben. It’s scary out here. At night, at least.”

Cleo and Reza were standing near the entrance to the staircase, taking turns slapping each other’s hands. Ben gave Tahlia a push toward the stairs. “Go with Reza and find Gabriel to get situated for bed. I’ll be up in a second.” He watched them go, then turned to Cleo. “Is the shield set up?”

“Almost.” Cleo slid her finger across her VRacelet’s touchscreen, tapping it a few times until a dark image popped up. Ben leaned in, staring at the gibberish on the screen. It looked like a glowing wiring diagram, with different-colored lines running in every direction. Cleo’s finger moved through the program so impossibly fast that it blurred his vision. “AGNI’s splicing the wires now.”

Ben took a deep breath. There’s nothing to be afraid about, he told himself. He had a scheme, and he needed Cleo’s help. The scheme in his head wasn’t
technically
destruction of property. It wasn’t
technically
illegal. After all, he’d done worse. Even now there were thousands of illegal nanobots moving through his bloodstream, “nudging” his body’s natural processes to function as perfectly as possible.

But
this
. This scheme in his head felt worse, somehow.

“Ms. Walker’s records . . .” he began.

Cleo nodded. “Yup, she’s got records. Lots and lots of records.”

“. . . But they’re all blacked out. So.”

“So.”

Ben sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is . . . I’d like to see her full records.”

Cleo shut off the schematic feed on her VRacelet, opened a new program and tapped her finger on the screen. “Done.”

“It would be just be nice to see if any of the other information . . . what?
Done
?”

She shrugged. “Well, my hacking program needs to cut through the security measures. But it’s not impossible. I’m running a Wi-Fi connection from the Tumbler right now so I can access its microprocessor.”

Ben was astounded. “That’s incredible. So you can just, sort of, open up the rest of the information? Just like that?”

“Noooooo.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not
just like that
. It took me a long time to write the code for this cryptography program. It works really well, but it takes time, and I need to constantly adjust the code. That corpse has some top-level redaction in her files, and it’s going to take a while. But yeah, I’m totally gonna crack it for you. And I’m totally gonna enjoy doing it, too.”