Page 66 of Nolan
I zoom in with my optics to the little silver pendant with the picture of an angel with a sword. “What’s it for?”
“You wear it. For protection. St. Michael is a defender in battle.” She looks a bit embarrassed. “And fire is a kind of battle, right?”
“It is.” I bend down when she reaches up to slip it over my head. “I’ll wear it with pride.”
A voice calls over the intercom, announcing our flight is beginning to board. “I have to go. But I’ll text you when I land.”
“Okay.” Mia’s glowing face, flustered from my kiss, with her vitals practically dancing for me across my optic screen, is something I can’t help but record for my memory banks.
When Apollo comes over, she gives him a hug too. “Take care of each other, okay?”
“We will,” Apollo promises, giving her a squeeze. “Take care of Jess for me.”
Mia steps back, her gaze returning to me. “Bye.”
“Bye for now.” I turn and return to the others, who instantly make fun of me.
“Aw, Nolan’s widdle girlfriend gave him a bright shiny.”
“Shut up, Booker. You’re just mad you never got one.”
“Hey, why you gotta do me like that?”
“It’s true.”
We make our way through security checkpoints. I’ve never flown before, so it’s a new experience for me. Almost instantly, we get stopped by agents. Apollo shows them his identification and mine as well—that the Belmont County Fire Department is responsible for me.
“I’m not sure what the hold up is,” Apollo says. “We registered him on this trip with the airline. He’s able to fly. He has a ticket, same as we do.”
“This is a new frontier for all of us, sir,” an older, scruffy agent replies tersely. “Just let us do our jobs.”
Apollo vouches for me several times, but his word doesn’t seem to go far with the TSA. I don’t say a word of complaint as I’m scanned once, then twice, then three times. I ignore the curious looks from other travelers; some are mingled with disdain, others, wariness.
I try to follow Apollo as he boards, but the flight attendant stops me. “I’m sorry, sir, but your android is going to have to be stowed in cargo.”
Apollo stares at her incredulously. “What? Are you serious?”
The woman nods, apologetic. “It’s new policy based on President McKinley’s order. Androids can’t be seated with passengers in any class.”
“What the fuck?” AJ says behind us. “That’s bullshit!”
“Do you realize what he is? What he does?” Travis asks, incredulous. “He’s literally a firefighter. You’re gonna stuff him in with the suitcases? Really?”
Flustered, the woman holds up her hands to placate them. “I’m sorry. It’s policy. I didn’t make the rule. I can get my manager if you want.”
“Do that,” Apollo demands. “He’s a hero, not a weapon.”
She hurries off.
I’m shaking my head. “It’s all right. I’ll go into cargo.”
“No,” Apollo refuses. “Absolutely fucking not.”
I appreciate how he comes to my defense, but I have a feeling the answer is still going to be no. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. Not when all the cards are on the table.
“The mission is more important than where I have to sit,” I say. “We’re wasting time.”
“This is crazy,” Booker exclaims. “Passenger seat or cargo bay, if you were a bomb, it wouldn’t matter. We’d be screwed either way. So what kind of fucking joke is this? You ain’t one.”
