Blackfish City(74)

They moved through the crowd. People ran, people shambled. Some crawled. Many saw the bear and froze, fell backward, turned and ran in the opposite direction.

“He won’t hurt you!” Kaev called, but he knew it was futile for a hundred different reasons. They were almost to the stairwells. All the patients would pass through this point. Ora would be one of them.

She had to be.

Would Masaaraq even recognize her? Could she even imagine what all that time could have done to Ora?

A door slammed in front of them. He fired his gun at the glass twice, but only the tiniest cracks appeared.

“Hand me one of Go’s explosives,” he said to Masaaraq.

“No,” she said. “He can do this. Put both hands on the door.”

Kaev did, and waited for the bear to join him.

It is ice, Kaev thought, there is a seal on the other side.

Break through the ice.

Liam stood, leaned back, fell forward with paws extended, hitting the door hard. Did so again, and again.

Nothing.

Take the handle, Kaev thought, and showed him how. Pull.

The bear pulled.

Pull harder.

Liam roared. The magnetic lock groaned, and then snapped. On the other side, a waiting room. Empty except for a couple of people cowering in corners.

They followed the curving corridor and then turned. Running in the opposite direction of the red arrows. Ignoring the pleasant, urgent admonitions of the voice coming from the speakers overhead. The central aisle cut the circular floor in half; somewhere in the middle was the stairwell.

“They know we’re here,” Kaev said, pointing to his screen, which Soq had synced to the public feed from Health.

“Of course they do,” Masaaraq said.

“No, I mean they know. The software. It’s already issued invasion protocols. A whole lot more Safety workers are already on their way. And there are probably threat neutralization devices all through here, designed to pinpoint us and take us out. Gases, explosions—who knows.”

Masaaraq nodded grimly.





Soq


That is a deranged proposal.”

“Maybe,” Soq said.

“You think that because you’re my kid you can come in here and tell me what to do?” Go said, folding her arms tight in front of her chest. “You’re mine. Same as all those other grid grunts on my payroll. You have some magic software? You give it to me.”

Soq stood slowly. “I’m not your kid.”

Go flinched. Just for an instant, but enough for Soq to press their evident advantage. “If I was your kid, you wouldn’t have spent so long hiding from me. If I was your kid you’d be able to look me in the eye. And you definitely wouldn’t avoid the subject like the plague until it suits you.”

“Stop pushing me,” Go whispered. Her face was inches away. “My skinners have never failed to get a secret out of someone. So if I want your software, I don’t need your permission to get it.”

Neither budged.

Soq wasn’t scared. Probably they should have been. But all they could think about was a series of exhilarating sentences that had been playing through their head for over an hour:

I can conquer this city. I know all its secrets. My head is crammed with a thousand heads’ worth of knowledge. I know more than Go will ever know.

“It’s in your interest to do this,” Soq said, finally. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Why you’re gathering intel on the empties? So you can take them over, rent them out, right? I’m handing you all of that, every empty, all at once. Or you could spend months, years, maybe, paying a small army of grid grunts to do it. This is a ton of money I’m offering you. You would be a direct rival to every shareholder in Qaanaaq. You’d show them that their days are numbered. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m trying to make sure you see this clearly.”

A commotion from the deck: eight soldiers boarded, flanking a man who was plainly their prisoner. So old and frail that Soq thought it must be Podlove, but no—the skin was darker, the clothing cheaper. Go held up her hand impatiently, putting the conversation on pause, and opened the door to the cabin.

“We’ve got him,” hollered the lead soldier from that squad, waving her brass-knuckled hand. Flashing a smile as wide as the horizon. With Dao dead, Go’s lieutenants would be angling for the spot at her side, and this one had just scored a major coup. Soq remembered the tireless jockeying for position at the slide agency, the clamor and barely concealed excitement when an accident took out one of the senior messengers. Soq had been into it then, had jockeyed with the best of them. Soq wasn’t, now.

“Bring him to me,” Go called.

He came slowly across the deck, up the steps to the cabin. Blinking like he was about to sneeze. The old man, Soq saw. The one from the video. The one who killed the shareholder’s grandson. Of course.

“Ankit helped you find him?” Soq asked.

“No,” said Go. “I have many ways of getting what I want.”

The lead soldier entered, bringing the old man. Whose face, Soq was surprised to see, showed no fear. His hands were cupped like a Buddha statue’s; like a saint’s on the way to martyrdom.

“Open up a line to Podlove,” Go said. The soldier tapped her jaw once—the call had been cued up already; the ability to anticipate her general’s orders was an excellent Prime Toady quality.