Page 99 of Coldwire
I nudge him with my foot the fifth time, annoyed. When he doesn’t respond or lift his head, the first hint of concern clenches through my stomach. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” he barely whispers.
I wait a beat to confirm there aren’t any officers directly near the stairwell. Then I shift forward quietly, putting a hand on his forehead.
“Are you vaccinated?” I whisper furiously. “Against all the avian flus?”
“Yes. Obviously.”
“When?”
Nik swallows hard. His throat bobs up and down. “I don’t know,” he replies. “Two years ago?”
Given how fast viruses mutate downcountry, he may as well tell me he’s wearing armor with a giant hole in the middle. “Are you serious?”
“I’m so sorry,” Nik replies testily. “It was hard to keep up with my checkups while Atahua was trying to arrest me.”
“Have you considered not engaging in criminal behavior, then?”
“Have you considered not working for a warmongering empire?”
“Youtry being born a Medan orphan,” I fire back, and the moment my last word echoes, I hear returning footsteps.
Nik winces, his inhale rattling when he breathes. I reach over him for his bag, ignoring his flinch of protest. While another officer is walking above us, their steps crunching on the glass shards that blew in with the window, I rummage through the various items that Nik carries around, coming in contact with his hammer. It’s a small object for how much power it holds.
The footsteps fade away again. It sounds like most of the officers have left the immediate vicinity.
I sigh, unable to believe I’m doing this. Time is of the essence upon infection. I suppose I have no choice.
I strike the hammer at the large block of debris above us. There’s no response from the facility while I break the block, the sound echoing through the basement. No officers hurrying toward the sound. I wince,shoving the hammer hard at another corner. This should be good enough.
“Get up.”
Nik is too slow. I grab him by the arm and use every bit of my strength to lug him out from under the debris and onto his feet. Voices float faintly from the front of the facility. I have my fist tight around Nik’s sleeve while we pick our way up the ruptured stairs, careful not to step somewhere that might cause another avalanche of fallen infrastructure. There’s no need to climb out a window this time: an enormous hole has been blown through the wall on the ground floor. We squeeze into the opening using the protruding pipe for a leg up. Nik, at least, can still maneuver quietly when I hiss at him to move. I hear the first clatter of curiosity from the front. An officer has noticed us.
“Come on, comeon.”
We push out from the building, and I veer us sharply around the corner, cutting into an alley. The route leads into a wide road, which is dangerous since the first tendrils of the morning are starting to brighten the dark. A quick scan up and along the residential buildings tells me we have at least three different camera angles on us.
“Hey,” I say. “Did you have an emergency exit plan? Where should we be going?”
More sirens in the distance. I wonder if our faces are still logged back there in the data center. Or if the explosion that the intruders before us set will have wiped us away too.
“Nik.”
I shake him. His shoulders shudder before he drops onto his knee.
Fear clamps a band across my chest, spreads an aching pressure along my ribs. If he dies, what happens in Offron? Does Teryn’s capture unit disperse, counting it as a job well done, or are they punished, having lost the asset before they could glean the program they wanted?
Am I allowed back into Atahua, or do I count as a compromised failure? I need NileCorp to clear my name. Issue a statement, tell the media torun their press junkets and say Eirale Ward was set up, was deepfaked, was innocent.
“Can you get in contact with Miz and Blare?” I ask. “They’ve been out awhile now.”
Surely they’ve secured a vehicle in that time. They must be hovering somewhere nearby, waiting to receive a summons that it’s all right to come and fetch us.
“Can’t,” Nik mumbles. “Internet is down.”
“What?”
