Paradigm (22 page)

“You shoulda been there, Sam! Like taking candy from a baby.”

He disappeared inside as Alma rolled up on the Norton, a scowl on her face.

“You don’t seem as happy as everyone else.”

“Amateurs,” growled Alma, kicking the stand down angrily. “It never seems to occur to them that the reason they can snatch all this stuff is because no one cares about it. All they’re doing is getting their faces recorded for future use.”

“Then why did you go?”

“I have no idea.” She stepped onto the porch, glanced inside at the noisy celebrations and sighed. “Feel like going for a walk?”

“Sure.”

Alma turned and started walking so quickly down the street that Sam had to run to catch up. She didn’t slow down until the house was out of sight.

“So the fish toxin didn’t work,” she said, finally.

“No. Well…no.”

She glanced at him sharply.

“Did it or didn’t it?”

“It did for a moment.”

“Why didn’t you let me know?”

“It was my best chance of getting out.”

She nodded and they walked a few blocks in silence.

“And the car?” she asked.

“Stolen.”

“Careless.”

“Nathan drugged me and handed me over to the Rovers. Then he took it.”

“Ouch. They trade you to Hermes for the bounty?”

“How do you know about that?”

Alma shrugged and turned down another street. It led to a steep hill, which they climbed in silence.

“So were you at DETH, Inc. spying for Rob?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. We heard that Bast had found something big and that Hermes Research wasn’t happy about it. Rob thought we should find out what it was. Then we heard she was looking for an assassin, which seemed too good to pass up. You know, considering my skill-set.”

“So he sent you down there on your own?”

“I volunteered. And I work alone.”

“With no back up? No one on the outside?”

“You’ve seen these guys. Who would you trust to get you out of a tight spot?”

Sam had to admit she had a point there. But he couldn’t help feeling angry at Rob for sending her in the first place. What was he thinking? There had obviously been something between them, so how could he do that? How could he send someone he cared about into such a nest of vipers?

“Penny for your thoughts?” said Alma, one side of her mouth tilted up.

“What?”

“You look like thunder. You need to work on keeping your feelings off your face.”

“It’s just—”

“Look,” said Alma, her face suddenly stern. “Rob is obsessed with the Mutha thing. It’s all he thinks about. People who are obsessed don’t think of consequences. They just do what they believe they have to.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And he’s not the only one. If I can help bring Hermes to its knees, I’m more than happy to take a few risks. D’you want to go down to the waterfront?”

Sam nodded and they headed down the other side of the hill toward what had once been a thriving port. He wanted to ask her about her relationship with Rob. But the words wouldn’t come. It was so much easier to talk about other things.

“What’s your beef with Hermes?”

“It’s personal and…well, it’s personal.”

She suppressed a sigh and, for a split second, Sam thought he recognized something. A kind of sorrow. The empty, hollow kind that never goes away. He knew the feeling well.

“So Hermes heard about the box,” he said. “But Bast’s not interested in them, is she? She’s after Bakersfield City.”

“Yeah. That’s not going too well. Someone leaked the info to the Bakersfield Militia and they were ready. She’ll win, but it’s going to cost her a lot more.”

“Was it you?”

“No. I think she suspects the banker, but I don’t buy that. My guess is it’s someone closer. It’s always the last person you’d think, right?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, grimly.

They reached the docks and walked along one of the rotting piers that fingered out across the water. The smell was almost overpowering.

“Ugh!” gasped Sam. “Best viewed from a distance.”

Alma turned around and looked at him.

“Are you going to tell me why Hermes wants you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why they want you or you don’t know if you’re going to tell me?”

“Both. I think I was part of some experiment that went wrong. But I don’t know what it was or why.”

“And?”

“And I’m not sure if I can tell you anything else. I told Nathan some stuff and…”

“Yes?”

“And the last thing he said to me was that he didn’t think I was human.”

“Maybe he’s right,” said Alma, smiling. “Though it could be a good thing. After all, it was humans that did this.”

She picked up a rusted piece of iron railing and flung it into the water.

“Could we get out of here?” asked Sam. “The smell is making me retch.”

They turned around and headed back up the hill.

“So why is Rob obsessed with the whole Mutha thing? He told me he was born there, which should have given him access to all the info he wanted. Why leave and try to do it from the outside?”

“Dunno,” said Alma. “He
was
born there. First families, too, so he probably had a pretty easy time of it as a kid. But when they reach eleven or so, the kids all get tested. Top tier get to be scientists. Everyone else gets regular jobs.”

“And Rob didn’t get top tier.”

“No. He expected his dad to fix it, but the old man refused. He says he left, but knowing Rob he probably made some big stink and got himself thrown out.”

“So where did he get this idea that Mutha is sentient?”

“Beats me. Maybe he overheard something. All I know is he’s managed to convince a whole bunch of people that they can change the world for the better by bringing down HI.”

“Including you.”

“I didn’t need much encouraging. But I don’t think they’re going about it the right way. I think it’s all tied into that box, but Rob doesn’t agree.”

“You’re still here, though.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Huh. Right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She sounded irritated.

“Nothing,” said Sam.

The conversation wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He shoved his hands into his pockets and they walked on in silence until they reached the house.

Inside, the post-raid celebrations were still going on. The younger members were drinking some kind of homemade hooch from a large plastic bottle and reliving the morning’s events, while the older ones were going through the papers. Alma grabbed a mug, poured some of the hooch into it and disappeared upstairs.

Sam sighed, picked up a fat manila folder and flung himself down in the nearest chair. Alma was right, the information wasn’t anything to do with Mutha or the inner wranglings of Hermes Industries. On the other hand it was incredibly detailed. Every item of correspondence, every note, every conversation had been recorded and filed. The folder that he had selected seemed to be about some kind of fuel cell, and by the time Sam had finished reading it, he understood every step of its development, including all the discussions and disagreements along the way.

He picked another folder. It contained the same meticulous record, this time for a medical implant.

“Hey, Rob…”

“Yeah?” Rob tossed back his drink and turned around.

“Are the files always like this?”

“Like what?”

“So detailed.”

“Yeah. Like I said, they don’t use computers so everything’s written down. That’s why they’re scattered all over the place. Storage is a bitch.”

“But wouldn’t it make sense for them to keep the most valuable stuff close?”

“There’s a file room on the tenth floor of the main building,” said Gil. “They probably keep the really juicy stuff there, but it’s too well guarded.”

“Have you tried?” asked Sam.

“Do we look insane?” laughed Mary, pouring herself another drink.

Rob glared at her.

“But isn’t that why you dug the tunnel?”

“Yeah,” said Rob. “We can get inside, but getting up to the tenth floor is the problem.”

“It’s too risky,” said Gil. “We decided to hone our skills with these raids before making any attempt on the main building.”

Sam looked around the room at Rob’s increasingly inebriated crew. The only skill they seemed to have perfected was yahooing unguarded buildings, brewing liquor and drinking it.

Rob poured himself another and slipped out back into the yard. Sam followed him out to the back fence. He hadn’t realized it before, but there was a perfect view of HIR from there. They stood in silence and watched as the light of the feeble sun sparkled across the glassy façade.

“D’you still think of it as home?” he asked.

Rob shook his head and turned away from the glittering tower.

“No. It was never much of a home. Not what I imagine a home should be, anyhow.”

“They’re never going to be ready,” said Sam.

“Yes, they will,” said Rob. “They just need time.”

He flashed Sam a smile, but his eyes told another story. He knew that this was it. That all they’d ever do was raid small offices whose holdings were so unimportant they were protected by little more than a camera and an old guy in an even older uniform.

For the first time, Sam actually felt sorry for him—this boy with his grand obsession.

“You need a new crew,” he said.

“Yeah, well, this is all that’s here.”

“So go somewhere else,” said Sam. “Build your operation. HI isn’t going anywhere and there are plenty of people in the Wilds that’d be willing to listen.”

“You think?” Rob’s voice was different. There was the flickering of hope.

He turned back and looked at the campus again.

“It’d be weird,” he said. “Not seeing it every day, y’know?”

“Sure, but this isn’t what it’s all about, is it? This is just the research division. The real power is—”

“Seattle City, I know. But this is the place that did the work. The records
have
to be in there. I need those before I can do anything.”

Sam couldn’t believe what he was about to say. Was he becoming obsessed, too? Straining after an irrational need to know? He should probably just walk away, go back to the Wilds, to the life he knew. But he also knew that now, wherever he went, Dr. Robinson’s words would be echoing in his head. He was dangerous. It was only a matter of time.

“If you could get to the tenth floor, do you know where the file room is?”

It was almost like someone else’s voice.

“Sure,” said Rob. “My old man’s office is up there. I know the place like the back of my hand.”

Sam reached into his pocket and produced Dr. Robinson’s keys.

“Right then,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“What?” Rob seemed taken aback.

“Let’s do it. Let’s find the main file room. I’m in.”

“But…they want to slice a chunk of your brain out. Why would you go back there?”

“Because I want to know why, and if all their records are as detailed as the ones you brought back today, then the file room is my best chance of finding out.”

Rob nodded thoughtfully.

“We could take Trey, he’s pretty reliable…and maybe—”

“No,” said Sam. “If we’re going to have any chance of pulling this off, the fewer people involved, the better.”

“Okay. Sure,” said Rob, nodding slowly as the idea slowly grew on him. “Let’s do it. Tonight sound good to you?”

“Fine,” said Sam, grimly. “Tonight it is.”

He strolled back inside, but the celebrations and increasingly raucous conversations weren’t what he needed. He walked out front and leaned against one of the porch posts. After a few minutes, Rob followed him out.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not doing this for me.”

“No.” He glanced at Rob. “I already know Mutha’s sentient.”

“You what?”

“My parents told me. Years ago. When I was a kid. I’ve always known.”

“Well, then…I mean…really?” The excitement in his voice was palpable. “We should go inside! Tell everyone!”

Sam shook his head.

“No, Rob. Me saying it doesn’t carry any more weight than you. You still need proof. Get the proof then go somewhere else. Figure out what to do. Get some good people around you.”

“But I don’t understand why you’d…”

Sam looked at him for a moment.

“Tell me,” he said, finally. “What do you know about the Sams?”

“The Sams? You mean the poor jerks in the clinic?”

“Yeah.”

“Not much.” Rob shrugged his shoulders. “We used to call them the droolers when I was a kid. Sometimes we’d sneak down and mess with them. Yank their chains. Y’know, for fun. They’d get all freaked out and stuff.”

“You’d what?”

“I know…what can I say? I wasn’t the nicest kid on the planet back then.”

“No shit.” Sam shook his head. “So, anyway, you don’t know how they got there?”

“Nope. I just thought they were thetas. Really bad ones. Though usually they just put them down.”

“Put them down?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean kill them?”

“They always killed the ones that couldn’t work. I don’t know why they keep the Sams, though. Weird.”