Chapter 16

I wait impatiently for midnight, lying under the covers, listening to Rosalin snore softly below me. When it’s time, I flip off my blanket and slide soundlessly to the floor. I tiptoe to the door and ease through. Rosalin keeps snoring.

I’ve never considered sneaking out of TWOC at night. Some thing about roaming Osiris in the dark has always held me back. But now there’s a reason to venture beyond the safety of my cozy bed. I have a tablet component to steal.

I slide the entrance door open a crack and peer out. The street is dark except for the intermittent glow of the ground lamps. The moon-like objects emit a soft orange light that cast eerie shadows across the pavement. I shiver and then chide myself for being silly. Osiris at night is no different than Osiris at day. In fact, it’s safer, with all of Osiris’ citizens tucked up inside their apartments.

I listen intently for a moment but the street is silent. I slip outside and close the door behind me. Even though the atmosphere is temperature controlled, it feels cooler at night and I wish I’d thought to bring a jacket. I rub my arms through the thin cotton of my shirt and start walking. The monorail doesn’t run at night, so I’m forced to hike the sixty blocks to the Technology facility. It takes me thirty-three minutes and I’m warm by the time I arrive.

I find the corner Cenric described but there’s no one there. I press myself against the wall and blend with the shadows. I close my eyes for a moment and feel a wave of weariness wash through me.

A tap on my shoulder startles me, and I snap my eyes open. Cenric touches his fingers to my lips and I swallow the shout of surprise rising in my throat.

“Shhh,” he whispers and removes his hand. My heart is beating too fast and I feel heat rushing to my face. I’ve never been easy to sneak up on, but Cenric does it effortlessly. I take a shaky breath and will my heart to slow down.

Cenric pushes himself against the wall beside me and I feel the warmth of his arm where it’s pressed against my side. He leans down and I feel his lips brush against my ear.

“Follow me and don’t make a sound.”

Cenric takes my hand and tugs me away from the corner. He leads us to the back of the building, away from the ground lamps. It’s so dark I wonder how he can see where he’s taking us, but he seems sure-footed and in two and a half minutes, we’re huddled behind a metal trash container. We’re looking at a service entrance. It’s overhanging emergency light casts a weak shaft of luminescence across the grey metal door.

“I can get us inside the building but you need to access the storage facility without me,” Cenric whispers. He lets go of my hand and the night suddenly feels colder. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“Yes, something like this.” I hold up the cracked graphic card and I see his white teeth flash in the dim light.

“It won’t look exactly the same,” he says. “As long as you find a component with the 900-XMB code it should work.”

I pocket the component.

“Ready?” he asks.

“I’d better be,” I say and laugh nervously.

“Stay right behind me,” he says and sprints to the entrance. We take the short set of stairs two at a time, pause at the entrance while Cenric punches in the code and swipes his key card to open the door. Then we’re inside.

The building is darker even then outside and I open my eyes wide until they adjust. The emergency strips glow an unnatural green, just enough to light our way. There’s a faint metallic scent in the air and I wrinkle my nose at the unfamiliar smell.

Cenric starts walking. We weave our way along corridors and past checkpoints, up a flight of stairs and through a series of small rooms. I note every turn in my head. I might need to know the way back out and I don’t want to rely on Cenric if something happens while we’re in here.

Cenric stops at each corner and peers up at the ceiling. I’m not sure what he’s doing at first and then I realize he’s checking for security cameras. I feel a prickling sensation on the back of my neck when I realize someone out there could be watching us.

It takes six minutes and seven seconds to reach the location Cenric is looking for. It’s a small foyer at the end of a T-junction. I can see two mesh-glass windows and a single door, but it’s too dark to make out details.

We’re standing in a hallway opposite the foyer and Cenric pulls us against the wall where we wait for a long, silent minute. Nothing happens.

I lean into him. “What are we doing?” I whisper.

He shakes his head and doesn’t look at me. He’s staring intently into the foyer, his body tense, his palms pressed against the wall as if he’s in the starting position for a race. I settle myself beside him and wait.

After four minutes and thirteen seconds, I hear a soft whirring. Cenric pulls his head back and motions for me to do the same.

I hold my breath and watch as a monitor-bot sails past us, through the foyer and keeps moving. Its red light blinks rhythmically and I feel a sense of foreboding, a warning.

Cenric turns his head toward me and I see the glitter of his eyes. He motions with his head and I know I’m supposed to cross the foyer to the single door.

“Wish me luck,” I whisper in his ear and then push myself away from the wall. I dash across the short expanse of tile and pause by the access pad. It looks the same as every other access pad I’ve used but I feel a thrill of excitement run through my body. This is one of the most important storage facilities in Osiris and I’m about to break in. If I’m caught, I could be, mostly likely would be, exiled. There’d be no shouting Justice or caning. Just the cold hard reality of outside.

I flip the access cover panel open, punch in the code I know should work for the building’s coordinates and rest my index finger on the pad. Nothing happens for a moment and I hold my breath. I feel a rivulet of sweat run down my back.

A stirring of worry rises in my stomach and I become suddenly conscious that I’m exposed in this open foyer. That monitor-bot is obviously on a timer and could be making its return sweep at any moment.

I push harder on the pad and close my eyes, willing the door to open. With a soft whoosh, the panel slides open and cool air rushes out around me. I step through the opening and the door slides closed, sealing me inside.

It’s almost entirely dark inside the room, so I slip my illuminator from my belt and click in onto the lowest setting. The light still feels too bright, so I hold my index finger over the end until a tiny sliver escapes. I sweep it across the room and see row after row of shelving. The metal brackets are seven feet high and stacked with six rows of clear plastic containers. I hope my graphics cards isn’t stored on the top shelf. There’s no stepping stool in the room and the shelves don’t look sturdy enough to hold my weight. I consider going back for Cenric and dismiss the idea. I haven’t even looked yet and there’s no point to creating obstacles that don’t yet exist.

The shelves are broken by a long corridor running straight through the middle to the end of the room. I can’t see that far in the gloom and the murkiness makes the room feel immense. I step inside the corridor.

I peer at one of the containers fitted into the metal stand and see small metal rectangles, neatly packed together. The label on the front reads, 0014-fusionXD. I step into the row and scan the container next to it. More grey shapes and a label that reads, 0024-fusionXE. So, they’re in alpha-numerical order.

I step back out from the row and head deeper into the room. I glance at a few of the containers and see various collections of shapes, metal chips and sleek battery packs, coils of cable and thin cylinders. I worry that my illuminator will attract attention but there’s no other way for me to identify the right container and the right component.

I estimate that I’m halfway through the rows when I find the nine hundreds. I duck into the row and start scanning the labels. I can feel my internal clock ticking down. I’ve been in here for six minutes and it feels like five and a half minutes too long.

I work my way along the row until I find the XMB code. I double-check the container beside it – 0972XMB. I check the one above it – 0983XMB. I realize this entire section is filled with components labeled XMB.

I clench my fists in frustration. Why are these things never easy?

I pull the graphics card out of my pocket and judge the size and shape with my fingers. I scan the containers until I find one with contents that look similar to the component in my hand. Too big. I move to the next one. Too skinny. I run through four more containers until I find one that looks similar enough to be a match.

I’m up to eight minutes and thirty seconds.

I loop my fingers under the lid to the container and pull outwards. The internal compartment slides free easily. I pick up one of the pieces and place it in my free hand, next to the original. There are differences, but it looks close enough and I know I’m almost out of time. I slide the container closed and pocket the two components.

I’m about to slink back to the entrance when the overhead lights turn on above me. I freeze. I swivel my head back and forth but there’s nowhere to hide. I’m stuck in the middle of the row, exposed.

I hear footsteps coming towards me and my heart rate accelerates. I spin away from the sound and sprint to the other end of the row. I duck behind the shelf and press myself against it. Silently, I click my illuminator off and slip it into my belt.

I peer from behind the clutter of containers and I see a figure in a dark outfit stride past. The persons face is covered and I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman. They move swiftly along the middle corridor and then disappear behind the next row of shelves.

I listen and the footsteps continue to the back of the room and stop. I know I should head for the exit but curiosity stops me. I had expected a monitor-bot or a security guard, not a black clad intruder like myself. I can’t fight the impulse to find out why this stranger here in this room. The room I alone can supposedly access.

I turn to the back of the room and slip through the narrow gap between the shelves and the wall. When I come to the second to last row, I lean out slightly so I can see. The person is crouched in front of a container on the bottom shelf, stuffing its contents into a rucksack. I don’t make a sound as I peek around the edge but the person jerks up and looks directly at me. It’s a woman, her eyes wide, her mouth opened in a small gasp of surprise. I yank my head back, and push against the shelf to propel myself forward. I duck into the next row and sprint away from the woman, towards the middle of the room, to my only avenue of escape. I can hear her pounding footsteps behind me.

When I reach the corridor, I change my mind about charging directly for the exit and zigzag to the next row. As I round the bend, something buzzes by my cheek and punches through the container in front of me. The contents explode in a shower of plastic and metal.

She has a gun.

Next Chapter: Chapter 17