Page 45 of Nolan
“I can tell.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, right?”
We’ve been talking for three weeks, but it feels like I’ve always known her. I know it’s impossible. But it’s so natural, our rituals, our talks, our banter. How accustomed I’ve become to her voice, the way she giggles.
“We talk every day,” I remind her. I’m realizing I haven’t moved from this bed in hours, and I should probably go downstairs and check on the team. It’s been a quiet night. “And we’ll talk tomorrow too.”
“Promise?”
She’s so adorable, and I can’t stop smiling at nothing. “Promise.”
“Good night,” she answers sleepily.
“Good night, Mia.”
I need to get out of this bed. It’s nearly 1 A.M. Satisfied, reassured that she’s safe and comfortable, and knowing I won’t be able to sleep for a bit, I head down to the barracks where the Weekenders are. My steps are quiet, not wishing to disturb them as they sleep—but I’m surprised when I find none of them sleeping at all.
Apollo, Booker, Travis, and AJ are crowded around the barracks table, their eyes glued to the flat TV screen mounted on the wall above our heads. If anyone couldn’t sleep, it’s usually a one-off. AJ would be up, playing games on his phone while Booker watches late-night detective crime show reruns. Not all of them at once, like this morning.
“Can you believe this shit?” Travis mutters under his breath.
I tune in with them, and soon I’m just as engrossed. It’s a livestream of the New Carnegie News station. We’re unable to tear our eyes away from a standoff between the New Carnegie Police Department and their SWAT team, and TerraPura.
Fucking TerraPura. They’ve taken hostages. One civilian—and not just any civilian, but the leader of the Humanity First movement, Robert Carson—and the NCPD’s only bionic detective.
Ezra.
I know him. Not well, but I’ve met him a couple of times at different city functions. We’ve never interacted longer than a few minutes. There was no need. Our jobs don’t usually coincide. He’s chasing after crime. Justice is his primary directive. Mine is saving lives.
And it seems to me the situation is getting worse.
“He’ll get outta this, right?” Apollo asks me worriedly. “I mean, you guys have those company uploads. So even if you get damaged, we can reboot you in a fresh body.”
“Immortality must be nice,” AJ grumbles enviously.
“Yes and no,” I reply, pensive. “It’s not completely foolproof. It depends on the programming. I don’t know how TerraPura works.”
“There was that bionic girl at the Humanity First march, though, a while back, right? What was it, like, last year?” AJ reasons. “I read about her. The billionaire’s secretary. She was reprogrammed by TerraPura, but he was able to get her back.”
“Yes, but she’s female,” I remind him.
AJ looks confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Different program. We don’t find the females, do we?” I say. “They usually disappear. The billionaire wasn’t supposed to get her back the way he did. They don’t use the women as bombs. Only males.”
“Kinda weird,” Booker mutters. “What do you think they’re doing with the female models?”
“I don’t know.”
“Holy shit!” Travis shouts, pointing. “Look, look, look!”
We all jump up to our feet. On the news, two bionics burst out of the underground bunker. One runs straight for the police barricade and blows himself up in a matter of moments, seemingly impervious to bullets. The other runs out of the feed, but a perplexed reporter states he’s jumped off a bridge into the waters of the Vanderbilt River.
“Was one of them Ezra?” Travis asks, horrified.
“No, neither of them,” I say, analyzing the feed carefully.
The alarms start going off. Apollo looks at me worriedly as the dispatcher’s voice comes through the speakers.
