“Shh calm down, Maddy,” Yosef orders in a soothing tone I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him use before. “You’re safe. You’re healed. Just go back to sleep and let the drugs work their way out of your system.”
At that last bit of information I truly start to panic, my eyes snapping wide open, and when I find myself strapped to a table surrounded in white and steel I lose it. Screams tear out my throat and my sluggish limbs fight against the restraints.
“Maddy!” Yosef barks, hurrying to pry off the velcro cuffs. “Maddy, calm down.”
But I can’t. I can’t calm down because I’m back and I can’t survive this again. I’m back and there’s no 42 to set me free. I’d rather die than be back. How can I be back?? I bolt upright and he hugs me tight to keep me from running while whispering something into my ear.
Somewhere in the panicked chaos of my mind I realize that if I really were back in those labs they’d never let Yosef near me. That little logical fragment of my mind that still functions fights against the rest, urging me to take comfort in his presence and what it means.
Safe, I realize. If Yosef is here then I’m safe.
Yosef’s voice begins to calm with my heartbeat and his arms hold me tightly as if in an attempt to anchor me to reality. Slowly, very slowly, my panic attack dissipates and I’m left shaking and cold, sweaty and exhausted.
“You’re not there, you’re here, and here is home,” he murmurs over and over again.
“Home,” I mumble.
He leans back and his eyes hold mine. “Home.”
Silence hovers like a worried mother as I let reality anchor me once more.
“What happened?” I ask.
Fury darkens his eyes and holds his jaw in its vise. “Bomb,” he spits. “The baker gave you a bomb.”
My heart clenches and a tear falls from my eyes that Yosef gently wipes away. “That beautiful church,” I whisper mournfully.
My words stoke his anger. “Who gives a shit about an old hunk of stone? You almost died, Maddy.”
Ignoring that I take a deep breath before asking, “Was anyone else hurt?”
He shakes his head curtly. “The bomb was small and amateurish. Pathetic. It only took out you and anything close to you.”
I feel my eyebrows rise towards my hairline. “Castor’s kitchen!”
“Maddy,” Yosef says, his voice strained and grasping for something, perhaps patience.
“How did I survive?” I wonder softly.
“I don’t know,” he chokes. “Thank your God, I guess.”
Our God, I correct silently. “Why would someone want to kill me?” I ponder with a chill. “I’m no one.”
He looks at me long and hard. “But you hang out with quite the crowd of someones.”
My mind thinks of the Rolling Bones and their unwavering claim in the city. It isn’t large as far as territory goes, but it is powerful with connections to just about everything that goes on in the city’s underbelly. Maybe they, whoever “they” are, know I frequent the bakery so often it’s routine, a pattern to be exploited, and hoped I’d be standing next to Yosef when it went off. I silently berate myself for allowing a pattern to noose me, but patterns are comfortable and unavoidable because it’s just damn human nature.
Next I wonder about Charlie. We could’ve been spotted hanging out together by an enemy of his or even an ally warning me away from him. Ugh, too many possibilities, all of them ludicrous, but that might just be my entrance into the stage of denial.
“If you’re feeling up to it, we can go home,” Yosef offers suddenly.
I nod, eager to get out of this place, but a yawn betrays me and my eyes begin to droop no longer fueled by the adrenaline of my panic.
Yosef smirks. “I’d offer to let you sleep it off here, but I have a feeling you’d hit me for it once you’re back to normal.”
“I would,” I manage around another yawn.
“Come on, then,” he chuffs. He slides one arm beneath my knees and his other behind my back and lifts. I loop my arms around his neck and the moment my head rests against his neck I nearly succumb to blissful, restorative sleep.
His boots make light tapping sounds against the white floor and at the sight of all the lab coats I turn my face into his neck and feel him clutch me tighter.
“Sir, would you like a chair to wheel her out?” A kind nurse offers gesturing towards an Android in scrubs. I can tell it’s an Android by its rhythmic blinking. Unnatural. I close my eyes again and keep my arms locked tight in case Yosef thinks to take them up on the offer.
“No, thank you,” he responds politely.
“Oh, um, okay well before you leave we need you to sign her discharge papers –”
“Talk to Zenith,” Yosef interrupts brusquely, quickly losing patience. “Everything is taken care of.” With that he pushes past her, ignoring her sputtering, and to my surprise instead of the winter cold, the doors open to the underground train.
“Too expensive,” I complain sleepily.
Yosef settles me into a seat, strapping me in before he does the same for himself in the seat beside mine. “It’s too cold for you to go out in nothing but a medical gown. Besides, I’m fucking rich.”
“What?” Only then do I notice that I am indeed naked save for a thin medical dress that falls to my knees when standing and certainly isn’t reaching my knees right now while I’m sitting. My cheeks redden but I release a laugh anyhow. “Well at least now you’ll be happy that I have to buy some new clothes.”
Yosef doesn’t look particularly happy at all, in fact, but he makes the effort to roll his eyes.
The train whisks us from the hospital to our corner of the city in less than a breath, its movement so graceful there isn’t even a lurch from the brakes to wake me up. Yosef manages to unbuckle the harness and stand me up long enough to wrap his coat around me and zip it shut then heaves me into his arms once again and this time the doors do open to an icy winter chill. Only a couple of turns and we’re making our way up the church steps where the others meet us.
“We didn’t see anyone following or watching you,” Nyx reports.
Arcas shakes his head. “I didn’t catch anything on the cameras either.”
“I want you to check every camera near the bakery,” Yosef orders. “Anyone who went in or out, I want them identified.”
“Who knows when this was planned though,” Arcas warns. “Footage is only stored up to fourteen days and they could’ve had that bomb waiting for the right opportunity.”
“You were there,” Castor agrees. “You’re just shy of a hermit and yet you showed up on their doorstep. Maybe they were trying to find a way to send it home with Maddy or maybe you happened to show up and they thought it too good an opportunity to pass up except the timing was wrong and it didn’t go off with you holding the box. Instead you made it home and Maddy was the one holding the box.”
Too tired to pay attention, I tune them out letting their familiar voices be a comforting lullaby.
“I have to get her to bed,” Yosef cuts them off. “We’ll discuss this in a minute.”
My brain barely clings to consciousness but I manage to peek my eyes open just long enough to catch sight of the kitchen covered in debris and with its new sheeting in place of the shattered window. Yosef carries me all the way upstairs to my small bed and tucks me in. Wrapping my fingers around my music box he murmurs, “Lucky this wasn’t in your coat pocket.” Then he pulls a blanket over me and leaves me to sleep. Vaguely I realize I’m still wrapped in his coat, but if he wants it back he’ll have to fight me for it because it’s much too cozy.
If there’s one thing I have to applaud the R.A. for it’s their medical advancements. One night and day spent in their surgery and recovery tank after a bomb tried to shred me apart followed by one night of uninterrupted sleep and I feel almost as good as new. I spent somewhere around a year trekking my way across the Southern Coalition and the one thing I cried over upon immigrating here was the medic
al care.
Oh it costs a hefty chunk in your taxes for citizens, but the government set up a program giving all immigrants a one-time all expenses paid treatment upon arrival, resetting their bodies to optimal health to become useful citizens in the Alliance. Most people choose to opt out of the program, unable to afford the medical taxes and instead banking on their never needing anything more than a bandage or simple cough syrup, but with our crew’s many lines of work Yosef insists on the expense. Zenith is probably the “friend” who shuffles the paperwork for an additional fee. No need to have any records on us floating out there, medical or otherwise, especially not me.
“We gather in the midnight nothing around neon bonfires for warmth…”
Music fills my ears reaching each nerve and muscle, soothing me as I sharpen my throwing knives. Slowly, methodically, I let the task keep my hands busy while my mind surrenders to the music of someplace far away in time and space.
I enjoy my bubble of peace until someone trips on the last step with a bang. My head snaps over and I see Frocket dusting off her pants with an embarrassed grimace. I shove my headphones down around my neck to ask, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, Yosef said we’re not to, but this came for you.”
In her hand she holds out a small box wrapped in ribbon and my heart stops.
Seeing my face she gasps, “OH! Oh no um no Arcas checked it and it should be safe to open…” She places it down on the floor with a squeak that sounds a bit like “Sorry” and scurries back down the stairs.
Cautiously I eye the pretty packaging and try to override the panic locking my limbs. If Arcas scanned it then it should be fine… Standing up I force one foot in front of the other before crouching down and eyeing the silky ribbon like it might be a snake in disguise waiting to bite me. Glad no one is here to witness my trembling fingers I tug open the ribbon and slide the lid off of the box.
Nothing happens so I peer inside with more confidence and to my surprise I find a brand new handheld phone inside. I tap it on and there’s already one number stored inside: Charlie. Oddly delighted I send him a ping.
<You really think you can buy my friendship?>
His reply is almost instant. <<I’ve already done that with my charm. The phone merely makes things easier.>>
I snort. <I’m sorry, charm? You must be thinking of someone else.>
<<Your insults sting, skater girl. And even without oozing charm I’m sure my good looks alone could’ve done the trick.>>
<You’d better be careful> I type. <It’ll be a long fall when someone finally pops that big head of yours.>
<<Would you catch me?>>
<That depends.>
<<On what?>>
<I might be too busy licking the icing from a cinnamon bun off my fingers and one mustn’t mix up their priorities.>
<<So cruel. I can feel my big arrogant head deflating by the second.>>
<It’s for your own good> I assure him.
<<I was hoping to catch you at the bakery this morning but the entire place is nothing but rubble.>>
My jaw drops though perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. Yosef didn’t get to where he is today for being soft with his enemies. I will miss those delicious scones though…
<<Any idea what happened?>> Charlie nudges me. <<Does that sort of thing happen a lot here?>>
I bite my lip, wondering how to respond. <Maybe someone found a rat in the kitchen and overreacted> I suggest teasingly. <And no, buildings blowing up isn’t a daily occasion these days.>
<<Oh good, then I don’t have to worry about my hotel.>>
<Nope, you should be safe, fancy pants.>
<<Ha. Ha.>>
<By the way, thanks for the phone. How did you know where to find me?> I pause for a moment, a fresh wave of panic surging through my veins. How did he know?
<<I didn’t. I was ogling the bakery ruins with the rest of the crowd and when I asked myself aloud how I’d find you now this little kid said she knew where you lived. Glad to know she wasn’t just a lying thief taking advantage of my wealthy, innocent soul.>>
<Ah. Yes she got it to me, this time, but I wouldn’t trust her. Kids these days, you know.>
<<Ha! Thanks for the warning. Time for a dull meeting now. You?>>
<Time to find a new bakery.>
<<Let me know when you do.>>
<Sure thing.>
I stare at the slim device in my palm that cost more than maybe anything else I own plus the cost of keeping it in service. I could afford it. I could afford to look as well dressed and classy as any of the others in the crew if I wanted, but that year I spent crawling, begging, and bribing my way from one coast to another left me odd. It feels wrong to dance in luxury when the cost had been so high.
Twelve little lab rats scurrying ‘cross the plains
Boom, fam, snatch, lie
Now there’s only one
Ten
“Those aren’t the words,” I grouse, glaring at him over my sketchbook.
He grins knowingly before returning to his rapid typing, his eyes taking in data quicker than a human’s could. “Just one small spark and up you go! A merry inferno, ho ho ho!”
“Gahhh!” I cover my face against his incessant teasing knowing how much it annoys me when he makes up his own lyrics to Christmas carols. Carols are ancient and, well, traditional. You just don’t mess with them! Lamentable and sacrilegious, I sigh though a part of me wants to laugh along.
“Now what?” Yosef asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
I drop my hands and point accusingly at Arcas who doesn’t even bother to pretend he is anything other than guilty and happy to be so. “Make him shut up.”
“Shut up, Arcas,” he acquiesces though his voice lacks any sort of command.
Arcas’ mouth pops open is protest before narrowing his gaze at me and my smug grin.
“Everyone!” Yosef shouts. “Kitchen table. Now.”
We drop whatever we’d been doing to pass the time and take a seat, turning towards Yosef with our full attention.
“I know you’ve all been going a bit crazy not being able to take jobs whenever, wherever, whatever,” he begins.
“Dying of boredom is more like it,” Nyx corrects under her breath.
“But,” he continues ignoring Nyx’s comment, “I told you I was working on something and it’s time to announce the job.” He gives his tablet a few taps then slides it towards the middle of the table where we can all easily see the hologram now hovering above it.
“We’ve been hired to steal the plans to a new weapon that could cede the R.A. more land. They want to expand and the Coalition has a ton a dead space they think they can turn viable.”
“The government hired us?” Castor asks skeptically.
Yosef stares him down. “Let’s call them a subset of the government.”
This only makes Castor look more uneasy, his own military past all too familiar with “subsets” and “shadows” of the government.
“What’s the ‘when’ and ‘where’?” Arcas asks.
KJ folds his arms across his chest. “The visiting dignitaries came prepared for negotiations. The Rochester Alliance needs the Eurasian Union’s support and backing. They’ve had negligible success with any sort of official communications with the Southern Coalition and talks with the Pacific Confederation are at a longtime standstill. Our government views the S.C. as a waste of resources and wants the E.U. to backup their takeover claiming it’s a humanitarian act, but by the sound of this job it seems like there’s some questioning on how dropping bombs on a region of helpless people is the plan of a Good Samaritan. Nevertheless the Union brought the plans should they be convinced as they’re not something to risk sending digitally.”
Yosef flicks his wrist and the hologram shifts from schematics to an image of the Ak
eley Building, also known as City Hall to the press. Not the real City Hall full of boring offices and Androids programmed to smile at the work, but the building used for events, speeches, and photo ops.
Magnificent pale stone walls, soaring high ceilings, elaborate mouldings wherever they could be added…it’s an architectural feat that marries historic roots with futuristic ambitions, proclaiming prosperity and fortune in its simple yet luxurious design. Built when differing philosophies finally rent the nation into pieces and was one of the first to be restored when the war ended and the borders were sealed. Oh to have been a fly on the wall back then to see what was and know the why’s and how’s. Reflecting on the contrast of my journeys across the continent I know one thing to be true: money matters. It can’t buy you love, but it can buy everything else.
“Where? The Akeley Building,” Yosef shares. “When? Christmas Eve at the annual ball where this year Charles Versailles Osman IV will be the guest of honor.”
“It is also where the plans are being kept in a safe superior to the one in the hotel where the foreigners are staying,” KJ adds.
“That’s next week,” Frocket squeaks.
“Clever, aren’t you? Now, your assignments.” Yosef focuses on each of us as he explains our roles in this festive heist.
Nothing like bombs and robbery to get into the Christmas spirit, I think nervously.
“Karter will forge invites, I.D.s, anything we’ll need to get inside. Whatever he can’t create ahead of time, we’ll figure out how to lift once we get there. During the job he’ll be stationed at our exit meeting point making sure it’s prepped and secured.” KJ gives a tight nod of his head. “Arcas will hack the guest list, staff list, and cameras. I want you to watch the area, make note of any patterns, who goes in or out, security shifts, everything. On the day of, Arcas and I will be monitoring the cameras and our communications.” Giving Arcas a hard stare he tacks on, “I want you to be sure our digi-masks are working.”
Yosef turns to the other side of the table. “Castor, Nyx, you both will be prepped with disguises as servers and guards. You’ll use your in as wait staff to smuggle in your supplies ahead of time. Once you’re on location, Nyx and I will coordinate to get into that safe and find the right files with Castor and Arcas keeping lookout.”