The Rise of Io (12 page)

E
lla left
the gym later than usual after working on a few of the new exercises Manish had added to her training regimen. She was surprised to see Hamilton waiting for her. He had never bothered to pick her up after training before.

“Hey,” she said. “What do you want?”

He held up a small purse. “Thought I would deliver your stipend personally and take you out to dinner to see how things are going,” he replied.

Ella never said no to a free dinner. However, it had been her experience that few dinners were ever truly free. She crossed her arms. “No strings attached?”

“I'd like an update on how things are progressing, and I need some time with Io.”

Ella wasn't sure what Hamilton meant by needing time with Io, but the thought of having dinner with Hamilton to talk about her progress almost made the price of the meal too high to bear.

The update is needed one way or another. Do you actually think we are going to pay you without expecting results? You might as well do it over dinner.

“Fine,” she said. “My choice.”

Hamilton shrugged. “Just nothing too expensive or spicy, please. My palate hasn't been adapting too well to the local cuisine.”

Ella picked one of the nicest and spiciest restaurants she knew. To be fair, it was one of the only restaurants she knew of outside Crate Town. Hamilton didn't bat an eye at the prices, but his face began to turn red shortly after they delivered the paratha samosas.

“So how are things?” he coughed, after draining his third glass of milk.

“Fine.” The words came out muffled as she crammed the food in her mouth. This was the best food she'd ever eaten, low as that bar might be.

“Adapting well to becoming a host?”

“It's the best thing in the world.” Ella noticed his face darken, and decided not to press her luck. No need to rub it in. “Io's kind of a jerk.”

Hey!

“Emily used to say that all the time,” Hamilton said. “It seems you two are getting along as well as expected, considering Io's reputation.”

You can, you know, defend me a little.

“Did Emily ever tell you how much Io whines?”

Hamilton nodded. “The two bickered like teenagers, especially during long flights. It was the most annoying thing. Emily would verbalize the arguments out loud to me sort of as a tiebreaker.”

The two of them laughed.

You are my host. You should be on my side.

Hamilton's voice trailed off as he shook his head. “Emily was gone from this world too soon. To fallen comrades.” He raised his glass of milk. They clinked, and then he downed it in one gulp. Ella had never before seen a man so white turn so red from food. She actually had never seen a man so white, period.

“What about your training?” he asked. “How is that coming along?”

Ella picked at her lamb vindaloo. “Fine.” The word came out barely more than a mumble.

“Are you making any progress?”

“It's none of your business,” she snapped.

You are going to have to do better than that. We are paying you for each day.

With a sigh, Ella started from the beginning and detailed her month of painful workout regimens. Hamilton's face melted a little as she talked about push-ups and lifting weights and other rudimentary calisthenics. He asked her about how much weight she was lifting and how many sit-ups she could do in a minute and all these other strange metrics that, frankly, Ella didn't see any reason he needed to know. Halfway through describing her kettlebell routine, he stopped taking notes and just sat there. His mood did not seem to improve even when she talked about her transition to knives.

She finished going over everything right about the time the waitress brought over her sixth lassi, and something like Hamilton's fifteenth glass of milk. The two sat there for a few moments with neither saying a word. For a second, Ella thought she had said or done something wrong.

You did fine. Hamilton is probably concerned about your progress.

“It's barely been a month! What did he expect me to become in such a short time?”

It is not you. You did your best. Kind of.

“This is not going to work,” Hamilton finally said, breaking the silence. “It will take far too long to get you up to speed. We may need to move you to a safer location for proper training.”

Ella frowned. “Move me?”

“We have a training academy in Sydney or possibly the training grounds in Arusha.”

“Wait, the Sydney in Australia?”

“Is there another? I'll see to arrangements–”

“I don't want to go.”

“Nonsense. I guarantee it'll be much better accommodation than where you live now.”

“I like where I live.”

Hamilton leaned forward and laid a patronizing hand on her arm. “Trust me, it's for the best.”

Ella was about to tell him where he could stick his stupid advice when she realized: this had nothing to do with her. Coward was desperate to leave Surat, and he couldn't do so unless she, or Io specifically, left as well. He wasn't looking out for her at all. That selfish bastard. Ella's grip on the glass of lassi tightened. She raised it up to fling it at him.

Do not hit him. Tell him I agree with you and that, as the Quasing, I am ordering you to stay here.

“Can you do that, Io?”

I am his superior. You are too, technically. A host is automatically ranked as commander in the Prophus hierarchy.

“Good, I hate the idea of wasting lassi.”

She crossed her arms and puffed her chest out. “As the ranking Prophus person, I order me to stay here in Surat.” She tried to come across as authoritarian, but was pretty sure she just looked slightly constipated.

“Sorry,” Hamilton replied, shaking his head. “That would be Io's call. If she orders–”

“These are Io's wishes.”

Hamilton furrowed a brow. “Is that so? Well, she'll have to tell me herself for me to believe that.”

“How can she do that?”

Never mind.

“Never mind,” said Hamilton at the same time.

The conversation on her training mercifully died, but it only got worse. Hamilton began trying to impress on both Ella and Io what a good idea it was for her to pick up and leave everything she had ever known. He became some sort of slimy travel salesman as he painted the training facility as if it were some sort of beach resort.

“I spent three months there myself during host training tactics. It's three square meals, a gorgeous view of the ocean you would not believe, and a clean room and bed.”

“By myself?”

“Well, no, all trainees share quarters. At least I did when I attended.”

Ella couldn't even imagine living in the same container with someone, let alone in the same room. Heck, it felt like Burglar Alarm was sometimes too up in her business, and the dog lived outside.

“The splendid thing in particular after your first year–”

“I have to stay for a whole year?”

“Three technically. As I was saying, after your first year, you'll be given weekends off to be on your own. That way, you can explore all of what the exotic land of Australia has to offer–”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, weekends?”

First year operative trainees are required to stay on the premise for ten months, save for family emergencies.

For some reason, her fool auxiliary thought free food, housing and schooling was worth being locked up in a foreign prison.

The schooling part of the offer was enticing. Having little education had always been a slight embarrassment, but no amount of free schooling was worth her freedom. Ella valued doing what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it. No one was going to tell her when to eat or go to bed.

“No deal,” she said.

“You really need–”

“Dinner is over. I would like to go home now.” She stood up and stormed out of the restaurant before Hamilton could utter another word.

The two rode a tuk-tuk back in silence. By now, darkness had fallen and thick clouds had rolled in. The scattered lights on random buildings and street lamps – the few that were working – flitted by as they sped down one of the main streets leading into Crate Town.

The tuk-tuk dropped them off a few blocks from her cluster, and they walked the rest of the way. She had offered to go home on her own, but Hamilton was adamant on escorting her all the way to her front door. She appreciated the gesture, but was pretty sure he would be screwed trying to find his way out of the slum by himself after he dropped her off. That was why most of Crate Town shut down after sunset. Only the rats – the rodent variety and the people who were up to no good – walked the streets and alleys at night.

Burglar Alarm greeted them, her tail wagging. Again, the dog seemed friendlier to Hamilton than she did to Ella. “Traitor,” she grumbled, as she unlocked her door and went inside. She turned toward the doorway and saw Hamilton still standing there, waiting expectantly. For something.

You could always offer your place for him to stay overnight.

“No way.”

“Goodnight.” She slammed the door in his face with a very solid
thunk
of metal hitting metal, followed by the additional low click of the lock turning. She turned around and leaned her back to the door. “Weirdo.”

She smacked her lips and reminisced about the wonderful lamb vindaloo, and with a cheerful hum, got ready for bed.

A
n hour later
, Io sat up from her bed and swung her legs over the side. She stood up and fell over. Luckily, she fell backward onto the bed again and spared Ella's body a possible head injury that would have been difficult to explain the next morning. She managed to get back onto her feet and moved – waddled really – out of her bedroom to the living room. She unlocked the front door and swung it open.

Hamilton sat on the front steps, leaning against the railing. He was scratching Burglar Alarm behind the ear, and holding a piece of leftover meat with his free hand. He looked up. “Io?”

“Come in.”

Her auxiliary stood up, flipped the treat to Burglar Alarm, and strolled in. He closed the door behind him, and looked around Ella's home. “I can't believe people live in conditions like this.”

“Speak softly.” Io sat on the couch. “The girl is a light sleeper.”

Hamilton grabbed a chair and sat down opposite her. “First of all, as a precaution, please verify your binary code.”

Io gave it and then held out her hand. “Did you get what I asked?”

Hamilton dug through his bag and pulled out several pieces of electronic gear. He held up a small phone battery. “One crypto key that is compatible with Ms Patel's phone. I programmed the contacts you requested. You can authenticate from her phone to the encrypted OS with the verbal passphrase ‘The vilayati own the mountain of light' or punch in code *8400#.”

“Of course you do. Your people think you own everything.”

Hamilton took out a small plastic case and popped it open, revealing a fat reinforced laptop with a handle on one end. “Standard protocol caused Emily's laptop to self-destruct within minutes of confirmation of her death. I begged desktop support to just transfer ownership to your new host, but they wouldn't hear it. Bloody tech nerds. Instead, I had them format mine for the girl to use. It's an older model, but you wanted to reconnect to the network right away, so this is the best I can do.”

Io closed the lid to the case. “What are you going to use for now?”

Hamilton grinned. “I'm getting a new one. It will take a week or so and I'll have to head to Ahmedabad to pick it up.”

“You give me your old junk and get a new one. I see. Thanks, auxiliary.”

“At your service. One more thing,” said Hamilton. “Your security level is unchanged and has been transferred. However, Wyatt made it clear your new host is not to have any access until she has been properly vetted. She is too much of an unknown at this point.”

“Understood.” Io closed the lid to the case. She'd have to find a hiding place in Ella's home. Otherwise, the girl might try to fence it at the market. “The sooner I get back online, the sooner we can get back to work.”

“By the way, Command wants more information about the site Emily uncovered and has authorized additional surveillance. However, I'm on record saying we are not in position to carry out the assignment with your new host. We should move you to safety and bring in another team.”

“Emily is dead. She died investigating that construction site. I will not let her death go to waste. I will see this through personally.”

Hamilton paused. “It was you who told the girl she could stay in this slum, wasn't it?”

Io nodded. “I have my reasons, Hamilton. Our work here is important, and we are the only ones on the ground. I am not leaving until we discover what this site is for. Besides, I doubt we could force the girl to leave even if we wanted to.”

Hamilton pursed his lips and then leaned in. He spoke in a whisper. “I have to ask. With all due respect, this is a bloody joke, right? What the hell are we still doing here, Io? First, Emily comes here rogue and gets herself killed. Instead of entering me, your auxiliary, you join with a street urchin. Now you have a new host who is not only unfit for duty, but uneducated and incompetent. And instead of moving to a safe and secure location, you allow this host to run roughshod and stay in this slum.”