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Chapter 1
Logan
As Logan Orm leaned farther into the massive underground chamber for a better look, he felt his brother's grip tighten around his wrist, tugging him back. "It's time to go," Byron whispered in his electronic voice.
Byron’s new robotic housing was larger and stronger than the old one, plenty strong enough to yank Logan back.
Below, another world opened up before him. He scanned the large chamber, easily fifty feet deep and twice as wide. It had to be more than a hidden storage space. Not that he could see any of its contents. The doors he had managed to open with his tech prowess had been ceiling mounted and had dropped tons of dirt into the area, swallowing up whatever might have been contained in the underground space.
They stood in an empty lot in a run-down district of the city of Apparati, Logan’s new home. It was a strange land. He had apparently lived here for the briefest of times as a toddler before a renegade old man, Abe Torren, had whisked him away to the mythical Tower at the center of the Ruins and switched him with Kyle.
He had very little time before the authorities arrived. While the evil Mayor Baynor and General Mortimer were no more, Mayor Trilmott seemed like a powerless stand-in. That much was clear from the last six days Logan had spent in this city in the midst of upheaval. The mayor took his orders from the Hub and only seemed to have the nerve to speak up when he was out for himself. Logan didn’t like him, but he was an improvement on the previous mayor.
He returned to the cold reality before him, ignoring Byron and the sirens for the moment.
Logan reached his mind out and switched on a bank of lights along the wall opposite him. He saw a large shuttered door at the end of the room to his left. The mounds of dirt barely touched it. He delved into the control panel next to the large door, seeking to awaken the ancient tech and open it as well. He noted the door led in the direction of the Ruins, eastward. While he futzed with the unlocking protocols, his mind probed deeper. There was more. Momentarily, he nudged his mind to the east, detecting another door access panel spaced about seventy feet in, still powered up and ready to be used. Could this be an indication of an underground manmade passage?
Logan thought back to the secret file on Abe Torren he had accessed while imprisoned by Baynor. There was a world underneath the two fractured worlds, that mending the two realms above could only happen if something was done with the hidden region below as well. The file had not been complete in all respects so Logan was unclear what needed to be done. He just knew to be mindful of a Guardian and someplace called the Well. If only Abe would pay him a visit and fill him in more, but the cryptic traveler had been a no-show since their encounter at the Tower.
He focused again on the door and its control panel. The sirens of the approaching patrol were much louder now. He cast his mind upward, sensing several squads of soldiers converging on him. They were less than two minutes away.
He briefly fixated on Byron’s helm plate, a darker part of the exterior atop his head that was a perfect imitation of an area of hair, but Logan knew its function was of protection and not vanity. Made of a dense molyvillbrite meld, it could withstand extreme pressure.
Byron said, “We have to go. If you do a blind sweep of the neighborhood spy pylons, you can erase us from record. I only detect six. Easy work for someone with your abilities, but you have to do it now before any soldiers show up.”
This stirred Logan into action. He wrestled free from his brother’s cold metallic grip and sprinted into the middle of the street. Far from the center of the bustling city, this district was a blight. Most traveled on foot or in ancient vehicles belching out foul exhausts. He reached out again and detected the six pylons. He swatted them into submission with a feedback algorithm and looked at Byron. “Done. Let’s go.”
Byron sprinted past Logan and into a narrow alley, his heavy-duty hydraulics clicking and whirring at a frenetic pace. Logan caught up, and together they veered left into another.
Byron waved Logan under a metal overhang just in time. Above, the thrumming sound of several flying platforms, each a clunky rectangle of hulking metal with a control pedestal mounted at the front and manned by a single soldier, disturbed the relative quiet of this neighborhood on the outskirts.
“You cut it close,” said Byron.
He scoffed. “What are they going to do? We’re heroes! We liberated the city from two nasty guys.”
“It’s not that simple,” Byron said, his almond-shaped photoreceptors much more human in his new body than the ones in his old.
Even though Byron was eight and Logan fourteen, his little brother looked down on him by about four inches. His upgraded body was built to last well into young adulthood and its larger stature reflected that.
“The Hub gave me a commendation. You were there for the ceremony. What are they going to do to me? I just dug around in an empty lot.”
“You unearthed secrets.”
“Exactly. They should be used to that.” Logan knew he was being a little arrogant, but he was bored, having spent the last three days in a mind-numbing routine of waking up, going to Kyle’s old academy, and learning about the history and culture of Apparati when he had already gleaned so much more of it with his frequent dips into the data screen.
“Just be careful,” Byron chirped and directed his sensors skyward. He cocked his head slightly. Logan knew he was using his hearing arrays. They were top notch. Logan had done the upgrade himself, so he knew all of his brother’s capabilities.
Logan said, “They’ve landed. I bet they’ll be concerned with cordoning off the area before they start searching for the perpetrators.”
It amazed him how much cityspeak he had grown accustomed to in the last week. Perpetrators? Cordons? Nothing like that would have come out of his mouth back at the enclaves. There, he might have spoken of plucking clean a durgle for dinner or of building pens using stout twindle branches.
Byron moved out. “We have to be careful.”
“I can’t wait to get the expedition to Apparata started. Trilmott promised it would happen soon, maybe even next week.” The Hub had approved an exploratory trek through the Ruins to reach out to the people of the enclaves, and Logan was in the running to be a key figure in that effort. His experience with the wildly different culture was essential to their success.
Byron took a sharp right and crossed an open street, looking up in case any soldiers hovered overhead. “Use the data stream and figure out when they’re really leaving.”
Byron pointed to a spy pylon, and Logan quickly wiped it, erasing their presence in its recorded digital memory. They ducked back into another alley, this one filled with far more debris. In some places they climbed over large dunes of trash and discarded old tech.
Logan marveled at what these people threw away. His mind flitted from item to item, engaging with each only briefly. Even their old stuff is so advanced. He tinkered with an obsolete skip pack, a device one strapped to their back, allowing the wearer to make giant leaps of thirty feet or so. The one he linked with was damaged, its impact regulator out of sync. Anyone who used it would receive broken bones for sure.
Byron sensed what he was doing. “Stop mucking around and get moving. We need to get back into the flow of people. These streets are too empty. We need to blend in.”
Logan abandoned his tech rummaging and sprinted over two mounds of junk. The Weavers at his enclave could never hope to match the refined metalwork of even the simplest tools and devices found in the city.
They crossed an overgrown greenspace. The parks closer to the center of the city were well maintained. This was practically a jungle. Logan took out two more spy pylons, ensuring their progress would not be noted.
They passed through a small play area, the different structures showing obvious signs of neglect. He was unhappy that so much of the city looked like this. Why did those in the center have so much and the many on the fringe so little? While the Fixer Enclave he called home wasn’t as sleek as much of Apparati, it was well maintained. Of the seven enclaves, only the capitol, the Hunter Enclave, was extravagant, and even that was marginally so. Why was there such disparity here?
“Do you think it will be good for our two worlds to reach out to each other?” Byron asked.
“I do. Things need to be shaken up in both places.” Logan knew that was what Abe wanted. The old man desired the two worlds to realign. Having been out of phase with each other for hundreds of years was a bad thing. Not that the old man had been specific about what would happen if the worlds kept drifting farther out of alignment, but Logan was certain something bad would result.
“And maybe it would stop the wink-outs.”
“Maybe.” Logan didn’t know how it would all work but certainly eliminating the wink-outs would be a good thing.
Ahead, he spied a busy street. They were emerging in a better part of town. Many people walked about, heading out for their morning errands.
“You can probably stop disabling the spy pylons now. We can just mix in with everyone else. I think we’re safe now.” Byron sped up and stepped into the flow of sidewalk traffic. A few people looked at him, but none recognized him. He had been in his former, rundown robot housing on the day of the execution. It had been broadcast on stream screens throughout the city.
Drastically altering his appearance was of course a necessary part of Byron’s complete mechanical overhaul, but he had changed in other ways, too. With faster processing speeds and upgraded software, it had been like discovering a whole new world of previously unattainable data waiting to be plucked out of the air—especially since Logan had quietly lifted the usual built-in security restrictions. With a voracious appetite for knowledge, Byron had been downloading technical manuals almost nonstop since the first day, and his vocabulary, indeed his entire manner, had matured. As a result, it was now very easy to forget he was only eight years old.
But while Byron was almost unrecognizable in his entirely new body, Logan was more likely to be identified. He pulled his collar up and slumped back. Almost everyone had heard of Logan Orm from the Wild, the boy who came from a land beyond the Tower.
Suddenly, a flying platform swept overhead and dropped to the ground in front of them. Two others followed suit. All three soldiers hopped off their transports and pointed their guns at Logan and Byron.
The lead soldier, a man with extra body shielding, said, “Mayor Trilmott wants to see you.”
Logan absorbed the crowd’s reaction. Everyone retreated. Soldiers were the supreme authority. Those whose implants aligned with this warrior class were not to be trifled with, much like the men and women who tethered with Hunter spirits back at the enclaves.
Logan knew he could override their weapons, but he didn’t want to. Already, he heard onlookers syncing their wrist tablets, recording the event. He might be able to block a few of them, but dozens would be hard while trying to evade the soldiers.
“This is concerning what matter, sir?” Byron inquired, keeping his volume low and not at all threatening.
The soldier gave Byron a dismissive look. “Tampering with access to restricted areas.”
The tunnels. They must’ve been caught on at least one of the spy pylons before he had swiped it. And Logan thought he had been thorough.
The soldier glowed a faint yellow. Intrigued, Logan sorted through the tech on his person and found the glow’s source. A simple device worn around his collar was creating the low-yield force field. Why did the man have his contagion barrier activated? He quickly saw the other soldiers wore theirs as well. What was going on?
The soldier motioned for them to step onto his platform. “Come with us now. You pose a potential hazard to the citizens around you.”
Many in the crowd took a step back and the curious chatter died down. In the silence, Logan became keenly aware of how many eyes were on them.
Logan knew they were better off complying at this point. He stepped onto the vehicle first, immediately detecting the restraint field latch onto him. It wasn’t meant to hold him prisoner. It was merely a safety feature of all hovering platforms. The small invisible field would hold them secure as they flew at dizzying speeds, aiding their upright bodies in any changes in momentum and direction. Logan knew it played havoc with Byron’s external sensors. He’d be sure to give his little brother a tune-up as soon as they finished their meeting with the mayor. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any surprises.
The citizens caught the police action with their wrist tablets, each sending it on to their network of stream teams, their various social networks. The incident would be public record, something the previous mayor would’ve tried to suppress. At least Trilmott wasn’t trying to hide his actions. If their capture had been covert, then Logan would have something to worry about.
The soldier mounted his platform and took his place in front of the control pedestal. They were high in the sky and zipping toward the city center in seconds.
Logan whispered to Byron, “Let me handle this.”
Byron said nothing.
Chapter 2
Kyle
Kyle Jaxx tried to contain his grin as Leet Orm, looking as dazed as the rest of the men and women at the temporary loss of their tethered spirits, raised his flickering torch to the hole. After a moment, the man turned to face the crowd. “There’s a tunnel.”
“I knew it!” a woman said. “Didn’t I say so?”
“But a tunnel to where?” someone else asked.
As voices rose to an excited babble, Mr. Orm patted Kyle firmly on the shoulder, causing a multitude of Breaker spirits to snap ineffectually at him. “Good work, son. Good work.”
Kyle felt a thrill of pride. This man was both his biological dad and a complete stranger—and yet he was oddly familiar as well, a doppelganger of the dad he’d grown up with. The two men were wildly different on the surface but exactly the same on the inside. Or maybe it was the other way around.
In any case, Kyle felt the same thrill as when his own dad complimented him back home in the city. He glanced at him and allowed a half-smile to creep across his lips. “No problem, Mr. Orm. I’ll be through this wall in no time.”
Feeling like he could tear down the manmade structure in a matter of minutes, he flexed his fingers and allowed the Breakers to muster their strength. With fifteen ‘borrowed’ spirits merged with his own, all somehow contained in his body, grunting and fidgeting restlessly, he knew nothing could stop him now. The surrounding natural rock of the cavern had felt like butter when he’d raked his fingers across it. Breaker spirits had that effect on anything inanimate—it just broke apart, crumbled away. But the smooth, manmade surface behind the natural rock was built of much tougher stuff, somehow able to withstand the pummeling of the strongest Breaker in the enclave. Even so, he’d knocked loose a bowl-shaped chunk and revealed a four-inch hole to the blackness on the other side.
The crowd edged backward as he reached out to widen the hole. The teeming mass of Breakers were unified as he lifted his fist, and he marveled at the combined auras of all those spirits as—
“Stop!”
The voice echoed through the cavern, and everyone swiveled around.
Kyle couldn't see the source of the voice over the heads and shoulders of the adults crowded into the cavern. He did see Kiff, though, and he blinked in surprise. What was he doing here? The eight-year-old boy must have snuck in and weaved his way through.
“What do you mean, ‘stop’?” one of the men demanded.
The crowd parted slightly, and the newcomer moved into view. He was one of the sovereign’s red-cloaked guards, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Two others followed close behind, their shiny armored chest plates and helmets reflecting the flickering glows from several torches and lanterns.
“Acting Sovereign Durant has ordered that activities in this cavern cease immediately and the place closed down,” the guard said loudly.
A murmur spread throughout the chamber. A woman spoke up. “It’s okay, we’ve done it. We’ve broken through. There’ll be no more time wasted. From now on, it’s—”
“The sovereign said to clear out immediately,” the guard told her. “He specifically said not to try and break down any walls.”
Mr. Orm puffed up and strode forward. “Now wait a minute. What’s going on here? We just made an important breakthrough! We need to explore beyond that wall. Who knows what we might find? The general consensus is that there are tunnels behind that wall, maybe endless miles of them, and if that’s true, there might be resources down there that could—”
“None of that matters right now,” the guard said, drawing his sword a few inches. The action was noted by all, and a silence fell. The guard stared, his jaw tight and anxiety etched into his forehead. His spirit, a pale-green translucence outlining a creature with narrow eyes and a long snout, rose a few inches from the man’s head and shoulders, snarling with jagged teeth. For a moment, the horn on top of its muzzle looked like it projected from the guard’s forehead, an odd effect that Kyle had noticed before with these types of spirits. Hunters were fierce predators commonly tethered to armored, red-cloaked guards.
The tension eased a little as the guard pushed his sword back into its scabbard. “Let’s not make a fuss, people. I’m just the messenger. Take it up with the sovereign.”
“Acting sovereign,” someone snarled.
There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. After a muted exchange of words, the men and women agreed to take a break while a spokesperson—Leet Orm—and a few others went to meet with Acting Sovereign Durant. “You’ll find him over at Sovereign Hall,” the guard told him.
However, nobody would leave until Kyle had returned their spirits. Somewhat disappointed, Kyle urged his borrowed Breaker creatures to return to their hosts. Some of them went willingly enough, but others lingered, and Kyle had to eject them. The cavern was momentarily filled with a ghostly glow while the spirits soared around trying to find their hosts, and then the light faded. Everybody seemed relieved, some of them patting themselves for assurance that they were once more complete.
When the borrowed Breakers were gone, only his own remained. Kyle felt strangely empty—but not for long. Six other spirits came out of nowhere and shot back into him, apparently grateful at being home again. With a familiar brief, ice-cold feeling in his chest, Kyle was complete with a Weaver, Hunter, Skimmer, Fixer, Glider, and Creeper joining his already-resident Breaker. They rummaged around deep within as if inspecting the mess left behind by the unruly Breakers.
“Shall I come with you?” Kyle asked Mr. Orm as everybody started shuffling out of the cavern.
The man glanced back at him. “Perhaps not. You make people nervous, son. Go home and have lunch. I’ll see you this afternoon when we’ve cleared up this confusion.”
It was true that Kyle had everyone on edge. In Sovereign Hall itself he’d publicly demonstrated the ability to host all seven spirits at once, something previously deemed impossible. Most people were lucky enough to tether to one spirit without succumbing to its overbearing presence. How could anyone safely host all seven within one fragile, human body? Then he’d spent the last six days using those different powers to heal the sick, helping to build houses, and much more—and now this, breaking down an impenetrable wall by borrowing other people’s spirits and channeling their combined energy! He could imagine the uproar when the rest of the enclave found out. What else was this boy from a faraway place capable of?
Mr. Orm spotted Kiff in the crowd. He frowned, opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and left without another word.
Kyle and Kiff were the last to leave except for the three guards that remained behind. Outside in the dazzling sunshine, more guards were posted. Acting Sovereign Durant meant business!
“What do you think all this is about?” Kiff asked in a whisper as they followed the line of workers out of the rock quarry.
“No idea,” Kyle said. “With this many guards around, there’s obviously something in those tunnels the sovereign doesn’t want us to see.”
“Nobody could stop you, though,” Kiff said, looking up at him. “You broke down that wall when nobody else could. You’re tougher than everyone put together!”
Kyle smiled. “Something like that. But it’s not about being tougher. I can’t just fight my way in there. We’ll have to wait and see what the sovereign says. Maybe he’s just being cautious.”
Still, he had to wonder about the change of heart. Durant had seemed utterly uninterested in the newly discovered tunnels under the ground, and the Breaker community had been left alone to do what they wanted, enlisting Kyle to help with his unheard-of powers. And now that they’d broken through, suddenly Durant was desperate to stop them going any farther?
“He changed his mind long before I broke through,” he mused as they climbed the path to the top of the quarry. “He sent out guards, who got here just as I was making headway. So it’s not the fact that I broke through that has him spooked—it’s that he’d already guessed I might. But what’s the big deal?”
The men and women headed off in different directions, clearly going home for lunch the way Mr. Orm had suggested. Breaking was the sort of job that worked up a ravenous appetite. Kyle, though, was hungry for something else: information.
“You go on,” he said to Kiff, giving him a gentle shove. “Go eat. I’ll be home soon. I’m going to, uh . . .”
“Going to what?” Kiff asked, frowning.
“I’m just going to find out what’s happening. I’ll see you later.”
Parting ways with a disgruntled Kiff, he headed into the heart of the Fixer Enclave. The dusty streets were busy as men and women went about their business and children played. What day was it? Was it the weekend, or did kids get out of school early in this quaint place? He’d lost track of the time. It was weird having no stream screen playing in the background while he ate breakfast. He was used to a news team constantly reminding citizens of the exact time and what the weather was like right outside the window.
It couldn’t be much later than midday, though. At home in his city, school lasted well into the afternoon. Here . . . well, there seemed to be more attention to learning practical skills than stuffing heads with history and math.
People stared at him as he walked. They all knew him as Kyle Jaxx of the City, the one who had ended the reign of a thoroughly corrupt sovereign. Kyle had been the talk of the town since his dramatic arrival in the enclave six days ago. Thinking he was the fugitive Logan, guards had arrested him on sight and marched him into Sovereign Hall where Kiff had been dealing with an unwanted tethering. The proceedings had erupted into chaos, and both Sovereign Lambost and his nasty Chancellor Gretin had perished on stage after Kyle had dragged their dark secrets out into the open. Exorcising Kiff’s spirit had been a simple matter, at least for Kyle.
The very same Sovereign Hall loomed ahead, a structure three times the height of the neighboring buildings, with a steep, pitched roof. People milled in the street outside the front, and red-cloaked, armored guards lined the wide stone steps. Kyle half expected the guards to pounce on him as he approached.
Only a small audience had been witness to his otherworldly display of power at Sovereign Hall. All that had changed the day after when he’d formed a massive circle of linked hands with everyone in the enclave and used his Skimmer to impart detailed, dreamlike visions. What he’d shown them about the late Sovereign Lambost’s evil reign had sickened all. However, they’d been entranced by images of Kyle’s world: high-rise apartment towers, silvery snakelike maglev trains, and vehicles that flew through the air. The fabled city in the far west, Kyle’s home, was a setting of breathtaking wonder to the people of these enclaves.
He paused at a safe distance, wondering why there was so much activity at the Hall. Granted, the acting sovereign was still here. In fact, he’d spent more time in the Fixer Enclave than at the Hunter Capitol. Still, it didn’t explain the heightened excitement in the air today. Something else was afoot.
A couple of the Breaker workers from the quarry stood outside, looking fed up. Kyle had to assume Logan’s father, Mr. Orm, had alone gained audience with Durant. They were probably talking right now, and Kyle wished he could hear the conversation.
The moment he thought about it, his Creeper spirit rose up from within, and he had to suppress the urge to go sneaking around the place. Knowing the way Creepers operated, it would probably lead him to an open window or underground access panel . . .
He forced the Creeper back down inside. It wouldn’t do to get into trouble with the new sovereign. The man was on edge enough as it was. Kyle resigned himself to waiting. Leet Orm would emerge from his meeting soon enough, and the reason for the quarry closure would spread quickly. There had to be a simple, logical reason.
Still, Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling something was amiss.
Chapter 3
Logan
Mayor Trilmott met them at the rooftop landing pad. Their three-soldier escort handed Logan and Byron over to the mayor’s pair of personal bodyguards. The threesome was dismissed by Trilmott and left on their respective platforms.
Like the soldiers, the mayor and the bodyguards had their contagion barriers turned on.
Within the large bodyguard to the mayor's left, Logan detected cybernetic enhancements, a battlebuster hammer arm, and lift braces embedded deep in his calves. The man was built to handle a pretty comprehensive assault. The other had various scanning devices wired into his ghost helm. Logan probed very little into the specialized tech. The helmeted bodyguard was already radiating a hands-off vibe.
The mayor didn’t invite them into his apartment, a top-floor suite that Logan knew well. He had retrieved its blueprints from deep within the data stream, illegally of course. He knew of all the dwelling’s features, including a panic room that the previous mayor had used twice according to the log record Logan had hacked yesterday. He hadn’t delved deep enough to determine the events that had driven the mayor to sequester himself away.
Trilmott sighed and nodded first at Logan and then at Byron, not offering up a handshake. He scratched at his well-manicured dark beard then fiddled with his ear-com. His nose was bulbous and excessively protruded. He arched an eyebrow and said, “You like to pry.”
Logan didn’t say anything.
Trilmott kept his tone friendly. “But that’s been a boon to our city. You have forced us to rethink our motives. You proved our previous leadership was lacking.”
Logan saw Byron was slightly dazed from the restraint field. His mind slipped into the robot’s equilibrium matrix, and he swiftly corrected the minor havoc their platform ride had caused. His brother’s eyes flashed slightly brighter, and Byron nodded a simple thanks.
Trilmott said, “I want to work with you. The public sees you as a force for good. It will not benefit either of us to look like we are at odds with each other.” It sounded like Trilmott was trying to convince himself of this sticking point.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.”
“No, of course not. You detected something hidden away, and your curiosity got the best of you.”
“I think the tunnels are important.” He wanted to ask about the contagion barriers, but also knew Trilmott was aware of his curiosity and was, perhaps, letting him wonder and worry more than was necessary. He’s toying with me. If I say something, he keeps the upper hand. Logan moved closer to the mayor.
Trilmott’s larger bodyguard shifted his weight toward Logan.
“There are boundaries and limitations in place for a reason, Logan. Not all areas are open to everyone, even those lauded by our fair city as do-gooders.”
Logan glanced at Byron. The robot boy’s impassive face revealed nothing. Did Byron know something was off about the mayor? Surely he had detected the contagion barriers with his refined sensors sooner than Logan had.
“I want to safeguard you and every citizen.” The mayor folded his arms behind his back. “More importantly, I want to safeguard the future. You can see the value in that, can’t you?”
Logan nodded.
Trilmott said, “Tell me, are you feeling well today?”
Logan shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“No headaches? No discomfort in your joints?” The mayor laced every word with polished concern. “No issues with your vision or balance?”
“None.” Logan hated holding his tongue, letting the mayor dart around what he obviously wanted to bring to light. I get it. You think I’m sick.
“I can’t tolerate the idea that our city’s hero would be coming down with something.”
Logan exhaled sharply. “What are you getting at?” He didn’t like being played. He didn’t care if he lost the upper hand by asking questions. “Why are you and the soldiers that brought us in wearing contagion barriers?”
The mayor didn’t react to his outburst. “There are no tunnels. You found only a classified lab space, abandoned for a reason.”
The mayor had to be lying. He knew Logan had detected tunnels extending out under the Ruins. Why the contagion charade?
“I get it,” Logan said. “You don’t want me down in those tunnels. But why are you making up a medical crisis? I feel fine.”
“Because you were exposed. You unearthed a medical lab’s dropload bay, one that my records show dealt with hazardous materials. I have dispatched a clean-up crew to seal it back up and assess any negative environmental impact you’ve caused.” He nodded at Byron. “Your brother won’t need to be seen by a doctor, but you will. Can’t have the city’s hero exposed to anything lethal, can we?” The mayor held his gaze with Logan for a long time.
Wasn’t this mayor supposed to be better than his predecessor? Something was off about his story, but Logan couldn’t put a finger on it. Trilmott could very well be lying, manufacturing the contagion story to get Logan to fall in line. Logan badly wanted to call him out on it. A part of him was uncertain, though. What if he had been exposed to something? He hadn’t done a sweep of the room to determine its purpose. It could’ve been a lab. It had been closed off and sealed away, so there was a possibility the mayor was being truthful.
Byron inserted himself into their conversation. “Logan should get checked. If he got exposed to something, then walking into the nearest readi-med facility wouldn’t be smart. You should call in a doctor immediately.”
Logan sighed, relieved his brother had defused the tension. Had the robot boy sensed Logan was about to throw out an accusation? It was entirely possible. The boy had such an array of sophisticated sensors, he could probably deduce when Logan was about to break based on his pulse rate, carbon dioxide output or something.
Trilmott shrugged at Byron and fussed with his wrist tablet. “Not a problem. We can have one here in no time.”
“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked. Byron’s directness and desire to expedite their situation seemed to have deflated the mayor’s bluster a bit.
Trilmott finished his requisition message. The mayor crossed his arms and addressed Logan. “Would you want to jeopardize your participation in the expedition back to your enclave? Imagine if you brought a nasty strain of some sort to your quaint home. I doubt your Fixers―that is what you call your medical experts there, isn’t it?―would be able to contain such a foreign outbreak. Would you want that to happen?”
Logan shook his head. “No.”
“Good. It’s probably nothing. Cooperate and we’ll have you heading home in no time. I’d hate to hear a grim diagnosis, one that leads to an extended quarantine.” He smiled. “You’ll find I hold sensibleness in high regard. An appreciation to duty and upholding public safety are key points in my platform. My appointment to interim mayor isn’t permanent unless I actually run in the next election, which I plan on doing.”
Logan did not want to hear more about the mayor’s political ambitions. He had endured enough of that when Trilmott had paid him a visit two days ago, asking for Logan’s endorsement. Something he had discreetly refused.
He opted to change the subject. “How did the soldiers find us so easily?”
Trilmott laughed and lifted an iced drink from a hover server that had zipped to his side only seconds earlier. It whisked back into the suite, its task accomplished. He took several long sips of the bright blue drink. “We scanned for where there was nothing.”
“What do you mean?” Logan was surprised the mayor was being so forthcoming. Then again, the man liked to boast.
“You thought you covered your trail, but all you created were blind spots. We looked for gaps in the data streaming in from the spy pylons, and it drew us an obvious map of your flight. I’m surprised you weren’t aware of what you were doing.”
I’ll have to rethink how I handle spy pylons. Just blinding them isn’t enough.
Durant patted the cybernetic arm of his larger bodyguard. “Captain Twimmer and Lieutenant Mendelson will wait with you for Dr. Hajill. He can conduct his exam out here. I don’t want you inside, infecting my quarters.”
“And should I be given a contagion scrubbing? Could I be carrying anything on my exterior that would endanger others?” Byron grabbed the mayor by the wrist and held tight.
Trilmott snorted and said, “Not required. You don’t pose any risk to others like your brother.” He wrenched his hand free of the robot boy’s grip. He fiddled with his wrist tablet and turned away from them. He marched toward his home. “I expect you to steer clear of any underground exploration, Logan. That is not your concern.”
Logan said nothing. He and Byron walked back to the landing pad, putting a good twenty yards between them and the guards.
Byron spoke low but with slight urgency. “He’s lying. His pulse was all over the place.”
“Well you did grab him pretty tightly.”
Byron responded, “He didn’t look away, but he was blinking a lot. A normal adult blinks ten times a minute. He blinked on average twenty-three times a minute during the nine-minute conversation. He’s lying about the contagion.”
“I know.” Logan eyed the sky, searching for Durant’s on-call medical help approaching transport.
“A doctor won’t find anything. My sensors may be crude, but I know nothing got on us from that lab or whatever it was.”
“It was more than a lab,” Logan said. “There are answers down there, and I’m going to find them.”
Dr. Hajill arrived, riding in a deluxe transport. He exited the vehicle and walked stiffly toward Logan and Byron, glowing yellow thanks to his containment barrier.
He pulled out several devices and began his exam. Logan synced up with each and saw that none of them were taking actual readings. He slipped into the doctor’s wrist tablet and intercepted a bulletin being sent out about his exposure to a contaminant. The report indicated that the best medical care was being provided, and the outlook was good for the city hero’s full recovery.
“Did you find anything?” Logan asked.
Hajill coolly said, “No. You check out fine.”
His tests concluded, he stowed away his tools in his bag and glared at Logan. “There are many places where trouble can find you, young man. Do yourself a favor and don’t be so bold.”
Logan said nothing. He grinned and thanked the doctor.
Hajill boarded his vehicle and left with little fanfare.
A few minutes later, the three soldiers who had escorted them to the mayor’s rooftop returned on their platforms, no longer glowing yellow. News traveled fast, Logan thought. They escorted Logan and Byron back to their home.
Logan went to his room and busied himself with combing through the data stream for any incidents of citizens stumbling across underground chambers or tunnels. He found none. He thought again about the mayor’s explanation of how his soldiers had found Logan. They had looked for blind spots. He knew finding no mention of any tunnels was a red flag.
There had to be others who had come across the city’s underside. Logan’s determination swelled. He would find another way below.
And this time, I won’t trip any alarms.
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