Thread War Page 14

  “Uhh . . .” Johnny said, watching the cloud of breath coming out when he breathed. “Seems pretty cold, Krugar.”

  “We should be frozen solid. If this is truly dead, then there shouldn’t be any heat at all.” He shook his head with a bemused smile. “If I hadn’t believed we were operating under different rules before . . .”

  Torres rolled over with Shabaz. “We should move. If Betty thinks we know were Albert is, she might move him.”

  “Maybe she hasn’t captured him,” Shabaz said.

  “Well, we’re not going to find out here,” Torres muttered. “Wobble, what’s the best direction to get the hole out of here?”

  “Negatory. They switched the poles, the dipper runs-runs over-over. Space cannot be determined, time is holding still. Wobble.”

  “Great,” Torres spat.

  “Krugar says east is clear for a while,” Johnny said. He looked at the soldier. “Uhh . . . I don’t know which way east is.” Krugar smiled a small smile and pointed.

  Torres looked like she might say something, then tilted her stripe. “Why not? It’s not like anyone else has any bright ideas.” She started rolling in the direction he’d pointed and the others followed her into the darkness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  To Shabaz, it felt like they rolled for days.

  For the first few hours, everyone talked nonstop about the size of the space they occupied— awed whispers with each ghost building they rolled past, startled cries of amazement the first time they saw damage: structures cut in half, broken holla screens topping them like jagged teeth, rifts in the corridor wider than the Combine. Wobble ferried them across each rift, two at a time.

  Nothing attacked them. Shabaz had never been in a damaged part of the Thread where a Vie or an Anti wasn’t coming out from behind something or dropping from the sky. It took her hours to relax. And when she finally accepted that they weren’t in immediate danger, she almost broke down at the thought; they might be safe for the moment, but the lack of Vies was a sign of something gone horribly, horribly wrong.

  Then, as the hours continued pass, vast space after vast space lit up like some underwater wreck, she became numb. They all did, the chatter dying away. Even Dillac shut up.

  Johnny rolled over. “How’re you doing?” It was the umpteenth time he’d asked, but it was sweet he kept doing it.

  “Not a vaping clue,” she said, passing a building where a single sliver remained—a shattered black needle glinting with white light until even that died out in the darkness above.

  “Yeah,” he said in a hushed tone. “It’s gotta end sometime, right? How are the others?”

  “Onna and Akash seem to be all right, last time I checked. As for those two,” she poked an eye at Kesi and Dillac, “your guess is as good as mine.”

  He chuckled. “What about Zen?”

  A thread of irritation trickled down her stripes. “Shouldn’t you be the one checking in with him?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Johnny, you’re the one who’s been hanging out with panzers and squids for the past few months. Don’t you think you’d have a better idea what’s going on with them then I would?”

  “Uhh . . . sure?” he said, backing up a tread. He stared at her for a second, then rotated on his treads. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go check on him.” He got about three metres, then two eyes swung back her way. “Do we have a problem?”

  She sighed. “No, I just don’t know why you’d assume I’m checking in on everyone more than you are. I’m not Bian, for Crisp’s sake.”

  “Whoa, wait,” he said, rotating back on the treads. “What the hole does that mean? I wasn’t assuming anything—what does Bian have to do with this?”

  “Nothing,” she said, flustered.

  “You were checking up with them before, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, well, just because I did something before, doesn’t mean you should assume it’s my job.” Now, why had she said that? How the hole had they gotten here—she’d just been thinking he was sweet. There was a point she was trying to make, she knew there was, but she wasn’t sure she was making it, or even what she was trying to say.

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Fine,” he said finally, swinging on his treads. “Whatever you say.”

  This time she stopped him. “Wait!” she said, popping a Hasty-Arm reflexively.

  He stopped. Waited.

  “Can we—” She bit her lip and started again. “Can we not do this? Not here?” She felt like all her stripes were trying to squeeze into one or tear into a hundred. “I don’t know what just happened—I get we’re both stressed, but can we not do this here? Please?”

  He stared at her and for a moment she was terrified he was just going to roll away and she didn’t know what she would have done if that happened. Then his eye dipped and he took a long, shaky breath. “Do you know what I was thinking a few minutes ago?” he said, blinking rapidly. “I was thinking how much I wanted to find Albert.”

  Okay, not what she expected to hear. “All right . . .” she said slowly.

  “I think that’s amazing. I hated him, so hard, for so long, and now I’m hoping we can find him so the jackhole can pull off something I have no idea how to do. Except that maybe we can pull it off, maybe we can get Betty and SecCore to talk after all. Because if I can end up wanting to talk to Albert after how much I hated him, then anything is possible.”

  She still didn’t understand why they were talking about Albert. “Okay, that’s a good—”

  “But that’s not the crazy thing,” he continued, and the way he said it—the raw, startled surety of the words—caught her own response and held it in her throat. All three of his eyes swung towards her. “The crazy thing is that I care more about you than I ever hated Albert.”

  From her very core, a fierce bright warmth, exploding along her stripes. The crazy thing is . . .

  Almost immediately, he popped an arm. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, that’s not fair. Sorry.”

  Sorry?! That’s what he was going to apologize for?

  He stared at her, waiting for her to speak. When she couldn’t, his eye bobbed. “Right, yeah, never mind.” He glanced at Dillac and Kesi. “What’s up with those two? Oh, right, not your problem. . . . I mean, I’m not saying—” he sighed and started to roll in their direction “—vape it, I’ll go see what they’re—”

  “Hey!” she cried, finally finding her voice, rolling forward so hard she almost bumped him. She reached out and grabbed his Hasty-Arm, bringing him to a stop. “Hey,” she said again, more gently, trying to think. “Don’t . . . look, vape those two. Just . . . just stay here, all right?”

  His hand was shaking. Finally, it settled a bit and an eye swung her way. “All right,” he said, his stripe flushing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  “Stop,” she said. “You don’t have to apologize, you don’t—” She placed the palm of her hand on his stripe. “We’re good. We’re good.”

  They rolled like that for a while, one of her hands in his, the other on his stripe, as above them ghost-lit buildings soared past in silence.

  “Okay,” he said finally, giving her hand a squeeze as he let it go. “Okay.” He was silent, then smiled a little Johnny smile and said, “That was intense.”

  The laugh that burst from her was loud enough for Dillac to turn his head. “Go vape yourself,” she told him playfully, sticking out her tongue. The crimson skid blinked in surprise, then tilted his stripes and rolled on without saying anything.

  “Intense, he says,” Shabaz murmured, her eye-stalks shaking in disbelief. The crazy thing is . . . “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

  Johnny grinned. “That’s nothing. Dillac just let a moment go by without one ‘squi’ or ‘boz.’ I think this place may finally be getting to him.”

  “Maybe. Although the minute I understand how that guy rolls . . .” She laughed again. “As for Kesi, I think she gets it, but that doesn’t mean she’
s suddenly going to be on our side.”

  “Why not?” Johnny said. “Whose other side is there?”

  She very deliberately did not roll her eyes. There were times he just couldn’t see anything that wasn’t the direct line. “Even if Albert and you hated each other, you respected each other. The hate was based on that respect; it meant you could work together. But Dillac and Kesi don’t respect us, and they didn’t respect us back in the Skidsphere. Plus, it’s pretty obvious she was with Trist. They might not have had what we have, but his death just happened and it happened in a way she can’t even comprehend. She’s going to be confused and she’s going to be angry. Who do you think she’s going to take it out on?”

  He thought about it. “I guess.” Then he shuddered. “If it even was a death. She’s not the only one who doesn’t comprehend what happened to Trist.”

  “Yeah,” Shabaz said. “We need to find out what that grey is . . .” Her voice trailed off. “What’s that?”

  Far down the corridor to their left, a distant golden light twinkled against the dark.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Wobble?” Johnny started to say, even as he swung in the direction of the light.

  “Hey,” Kesi cried. “Look at that!” She banged off the nearest building and raced down the corridor. Dillac turned to follow.

  “Kesi!” Johnny barked. Crisp, she was fast to react. “Get back here!” Glancing at Shabaz, he banged off a building; she did the same.

  “That’s just great,” Torres swore, popping her swords. “Wobble!”

  “To the rescue-rescue. I-We will defend.” The machine rose into the air and screamed after Kesi.

  Before Kesi even reached the first spark, Johnny saw others further down the corridor: a few single sparks, but then lines, followed by fractured buildings, all glowing with the light of the Thread. They were entering the end of the dead space and back to the merely broken.

  Which meant . . .

  “Hey,” Kesi said, pausing by the sparking light, “this has got to be—”

  Wobble screamed past her, four wheels of fire obliterating the four Vies that came out of the shadows. He flew another ten metres, landed, popped his cannons, and began pounding the darkness.

  “You idiot!” Johnny yelled, passing Dillac and reaching for Kesi.

  “Zen!”

  Johnny spun, in time to see a Vie fall from the sky near the panzer. Far above, another spark of gold, flickering.

  Johnny might have reached him—he cut that hard on the turn. If not, Shabaz might have—she was just behind Johnny. They might have crushed the Vie between them. But they didn’t need to: Torres was coming, with Akash not far behind. Torres slashed through the Vie with her orange swords, tucking the One safely behind her as she screeched to a halt.

  But now they all faced the wrong way.

  “Kesi!” Akash yelled, plowing through the space between Johnny and Shabaz. Towards Kesi, who was just beginning to swing towards the Vie that emerged by her side.

  Akash plowed into her, shoving her away as the Vie struck. He tried to use his momentum to rebound in the other direction, but a second Vie appeared in his path. He crashed into it and screamed.

  “No!” Johnny cried, even as Torres roared and hurled her sword at the original Vie that had threatened Kesi. “Akash, hold on—”

  For a heartbeat, Johnny thought he might. A horror came over the Three’s face, then a hard look, his mint skin boiling like a storm. Johnny’s hands strained as they reached out; if he could get to him like Shabaz . . .

  But Shabaz had been a Seven who’d been nicked a few times; Akash was a Three who’d absorbed one completely.

  He dissolved even as Johnny placed a hand on his skin. A third Vie appeared. Without even thinking, Johnny grabbed it and pulled it inside him. A second of biting darkness, then Johnny crushed it with colour and rage.

  The next few minutes passed without thinking. He might have swallowed another Vie, he wasn’t sure. At some point, someone pressed a gun into his hand. He emptied it screaming.

  After a time, the sound of guns died out. Wobble reappeared. “All clear-clear. I-We brought the—” The machine’s voice died and his lenses spun. “Numbers are too-too small. I-We have failed.”

  “You didn’t fail, Wobble,” Johnny growled. How could the machine think that—how many times had he saved them all? He glared at Kesi. “Are you happy? Do you get it now? This isn’t a game?”

  “Oh, wait,” Kesi protested, “this is my fault? No one dies if the great Johnny Drop gets to go check out the light first? Look, I appreciate the squid—”

  “His name was Akash.”

  Eyes swung as Onna, her expression filled with fury, rolled up to Kesi. “He wasn’t a squid. He wasn’t a panzer. He was a Level Three, and his name was Akash!”

  “Whoa, hey, boz—” Dillac said.

  “Shut up!” Onna snarled. “Shut up or I will feed you to the next one of those things I see.”

  Dillac shut up.

  “And you,” Onna said, backing Kesi up against a building. “You don’t want to respect me, fine, I could give a gear. You don’t want to respect Johnny or Shabaz or their friends, then you’re an idiot, but fine. But you will respect the skid who just saved your treads or I swear I will rip the stripes right from your skin. His name was Akash, and he was a Level Three. He got there with skills he learned at the Combine—skills he just used to save your sorry skin. Skills he learned from them.” She stabbed a finger at Johnny and Shabaz. “So take that and shove it up your stripes.”

  She pointed in the direction of the lights sparking in the distance. “You want to take off on your own? The two of you? Go ahead. No one’s stopping you. You can die together.” Her voice grew cold. “You can die alone.”

  Kesi stared at her, then her own eye dipped. “I’m sorry. I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . he died because of me.”

  Onna glared back, then bumped off her treads, hard. “You’re vaping right he did.” She rolled away, her stripes shaking.

  “What was her name again?” Torres murmured.

  “I got it,” Shabaz said to Johnny, rolling after Onna. “You deal with Kesi.”

  The fact that they’d had a fight about something like this a few minutes—hours?—ago wasn’t lost on him. But right now he didn’t care. He rolled up to Kesi.

  “She’s right,” he said, and Kesi flinched. “Onna might have said it a little more bluntly than I would have, but she’s right. You got Akash killed. Maybe he would have died anyway; maybe we’ll all die out here. But in that moment, you got him vaped. I’ll echo what she said—you don’t want to respect me, vape it, I don’t care. But you will respect Shabaz and Torres and Torg and Wobble. They tell you to do something, you vaping do it. And if you’re going to remain here, then you might want to respect Krugar and Onna and Zen too. Because if you don’t, more of us will die without needing to, and that’s not going to happen.”

  He waited until she bobbed an eye in agreement. She looked guilty as hole, but he didn’t care. He’d really liked Akash. Johnny looked at Dillac. “What about you?”

  “Sure, boz,” Dillac said. It was the first time Johnny had seen him look subdued. “That was a jack way to die, rhi.”

  Vaping right it was. “Gimme a minute,” he said to Torres. He rolled away, his head a mess. He considered going over to Shabaz and Onna, but Shabaz she had it, and besides, he needed a minute.

  He didn’t get much more than that before Krugar walked over. He stopped a respectful distance away. “Machine says we’re clear but that could change. If this is a bad place, we should move.”

  “They’re all bad places,” Johnny said ruefully.

  Krugar cocked his head to one side. “How’re you feeling?”

  How was he . . . ? Akash was dead was how he was feeling. The poor panzer had . . . “He came back. The first day. To the Combine. The first day he made Three and he came back.” Krugar frowned and Johnny realized the soldier had no idea what he
was talking about. None of them knew anything. “That place in the Skidsphere you found us is called the Combine. It’s where Level Ones and Twos train. Trying not to die. No one helps them, they have to figure it out for themselves.”

  Krugar’s frown deepened. “That’s not how it looked when I got there.”

  “After Shabaz and I got back from the Thread, I started helping out. It was how I dealt with . . . it was how I dealt. That’s what Kesi and Trist were all twisted up about. Onna, then Shev, started showing up to help out too, after they made Three and didn’t need to be there anymore. Akash wasn’t the first. But he was the first one to come back on his first day.”

  Krugar studied him, then looked out into the darkness. “There’s never anything good to say in moments like this. But he died saving a life. It wasn’t meaningless.”

  Johnny grunted. “And if Betty and SecCore tear it all apart? If everything dies? How much meaning will there be then?”

  Krugar was shaking his head even before Johnny finished speaking. “Nah,” he said. He looked back at Johnny. “You can’t think like that. You can’t think that big in moments like this, it’ll just mess you up. Stay small or it will tear you apart. Focus on the mission at hand. We’re going to go find your friend, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s going to help, right? Might not save everything, but we’re better with him, right?”

  Johnny slowly bobbed an eye. “Yeah.”

  “Then that’s what we do. We move one step at a time.”

  There was a golden spark flickering just over the soldier’s shoulder. Johnny watched it for a minute, then asked, “Isn’t someone supposed to keep an eye on the big holla?”

  “Yeah,” Krugar grinned. “And, yeah, it looks like that someone might be you. But not now. Now we go find your friend.”

  Shabaz rolled over. “Onna’s going to be all right, all things considered.” She looked at Krugar, then Johnny. “How about you?”

  Johnny smiled ruefully. “I think Krugar was just telling me to run the race I’m in.”