Page 53 of Coldwire
“Miss Leung,” the doorman says into his earpiece when Xixi answers.“You’ve got a delivery from your company. A mystery, they say. Can I send them up?”
I hear the slightest echo through the earbud, an expression of surprise. Xixi must reply in the affirmative, because the doorman nods and gestures we can proceed to the elevator.
Nik makes a whole show of protecting the “cake” when he turns the corner. The elevator doors are already open, waiting for us, the button for the seventh floor lit by the front desk’s instruction. We likely wouldn’t have been able to activate the button inside if the doorman hadn’t allowed it.
“You’re making it seem far heavier than cakes actually are,” I mutter under my breath.
“It’s an expensive cake,” he mutters back. The elevator doors close. Despite appearances, the machinery makes a heinously loud clatter before it begins to move. I’m braced for the chance of it breaking down as it hauls up each floor at a snail’s pace.
When the elevator opens on the seventh floor, I hear the jangle of keys first. My arm flies out to warn Nik, but he’s heard it too. He jabs the button to close the doors. We don’t want to run into anyone here. We don’t want any of Xixi’s neighbors to have made note of us, because then they can provide descriptions when inevitably there is news about Nik Grant in Medaluo, news about a fugitive plotting something against the nation of Atahua, and the whole world tunes in with curiosity.
But there are two voices in conversation. Coming from the left, where apartment C would be.
“Wait,” I whisper quickly, grabbing Nik’s arm to take him off the button. “It’s her.”
“… all this business with Chung. I’ve only been here eight months. I bet you this is some veiled threat to get me to stay.”
That has to be Xixi. Her voice is high-pitched with the faintest hint of a lisp. Her keys clack together in quick succession while she locks up. Nik and I hold as still as stone. He reaches carefully into his jacket.
“Keep your head down today. There’s no use arguing with them about this.”
The other voice is deeper. I didn’t think to suggest checking whether she had a partner, but he clearly lives with her. That was an oversight.
I feel a nudge on my hand. Without looking, I open my palm, and Nik slides something into it. I swipe along the cold edge to identify the item. Tranquilizer. One dose, by the weight of it.
“Ready?” Nik whispers, barely audible under his breath.
“No,” I answer.
Xixi and her companion arrive in front of the elevator, stopping short. Nik commands, “Go!” and I drop to the floor, rolling on my shoulder to stay low. I rise only when I’ve suddenly situated myself behind Xixi. She hasn’t yet thought to move out of the way; I take a hold of her shoulders. In that moment of contact, she has the brief chance to jolt, to attempt pulling away, but I already have one end of the tranquilizer pressed to her neck, and my thumb shoves hard on the button. The needle shoots out. I count: one, two, three—
Xixi slumps into deadweight. I catch her before she falls, keeping her on my arm.
In my periphery, Nik has incapacitated the man already too. He hasn’t bothered to catch him.
“Bring her in first,” he tells me, stepping over the unconscious body.
I watch Nik lean down and pick up the keys that Xixi dropped. Callous and quick, as he was that night in the club. I don’t care much for our politicians either. They know what they signed up for. They continue proxy wars in other countries for no reason save to fill their own pockets, and when angered anarchists rise as a result, they only have themselves to blame.
Still, I suppose I expected some sense of mercy from Nik Grant for his ordinary victims. He’s not like me, looking out for myself. He’s trying to change the world.
But I see only coldness. Here, now, then. He is long beyond anger.
“Come on,” he calls back, opening Xixi’s apartment.
I wonder what happened to make him this way.
“I’m coming.”
I drag Xixi back to her door. Inside, Nik goes to let in Miz and Blare, who are both hovering outside the window with their harnesses flapping with the wind. We’re lucky that Xixi didn’t activate her home security system when she left—they’re impossible to disarm without the multiple passcodes, but most downcountry users don’t turn them on unless they’re in their Pod. It’s too annoying otherwise to go through the steps every day.
While I deposit Xixi on her couch with a grunt of effort, Miz and Blare clamber through. Xixi’s unconscious form slumps onto her cushions. Miz pushes the window closed with a thud.
A beat passes. I collect my breath. I haven’t had to lift anything heavy in a while.
“What… happened?” Blare asks, breaking the tension.
“Unexpected visitor,” Nik answers. “It’s fine. I’ll go move him in. Let’s hurry.”
