Scythe Page 8

  Even so, my face burns up about six different shades of red.

  Stupid face.

  Mom presses her forehead against the windowpane by her chair. When she next speaks, she doesn’t look in Thorne’s direction. “Can you help us?”

  My heart sinks. Mom’s voice has returned to a hollow murmur. The lab maven from this morning is gone.

  I take a half step backward, trying to take this all in. Mom made a deal with some huge, scarred-up guy named Cole from another world. And now his scientifically handsome son, Thorne, is here to make good on everything while triggering vague memories from my dreams. And I had a mind-meld experience with him for some reason, too. Let’s not forget that little side order of strangeness.

  If I didn’t need to haul my butt to the Scythe, I’d have a lot of Meimi-style questions for this situation.

  Thorne nods. “I can make good on your pact with my father.” He turns to me. When he next speaks, his voice holds a tone that can only be called reverent. “And you are?”

  His gaze locks with mine again. All I can think about was that connection we just had. Those visions felt so deep and real. What’s going on here?

  I guess a long pause went by without my speaking, because Miss Edith answers for me. “She’s Meimi Archer, and Rose here is her mother. I’m the hired help. More tea?”

  “No, thank you,” intones Thorne.

  “Such a sweet boy.” Miss Edith turns to me. “But you should watch those security systems of yours. He walked right into this building.”

  Which raises a good question. I focus on Miss Edith. “You didn’t notice anything about the building when you came in?” Like the fact that it flipped in space-time, not that I say that part out loud.

  “No, should I have?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Just making conversation. And you’re right—I’ll look into the security systems. In the meantime, can you please get Mom a blanket?”

  Miss Edith takes another sip from her teacup. “She doesn’t look cold.”

  “Mom and I need a moment alone with Thorne.”

  “Ah, I understand.” Miss Edith glances at Mom who’s taken to staring out the window again. Miss Edith wags her finger at me. “No funny business while I’m gone.”

  “Meaning?” I ask.

  Miss Edith lifts her chin. “No kissing.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. Like I’d make out with some random guy while my catatonic mother is nearby. Or anywhere, really.

  “Thank you, Miss Edith. I’ll remember that.”

  Miss Edith leaves, doing one of those old lady hums as she goes. I swear, this is probably the most excitement she’s had in years.

  Once Miss Edith is gone and out of earshot, I risk a quick glance at Thorne. “Mom called you here to find my sister Luci.”

  Thorne nods slowly. “She’s the DNA sample you sent.”

  “Can you find lost humans … I mean missing, uh, people … Earthlings?” I press my lips together, hard. This makes the catastrophe conversation with G look like I was Miss Suave.

  Stop talking, Meimi.

  A small smile rounds his full lips. Not that I find his mouth attractive or anything. This is just a scientific comment on the ratio of mouth to face. “I can do all sorts of things. Let me demonstrate.”

  When I first saw Thorne, he was wearing heavy black body armor. Now, that covering starts to shimmer with a violet-colored glow. The structure changes until Thorne no longer wears body armor at all. In stead, his outfit morphs into dark jeans, a black Henley, and heavy boots. Thorne gestures across his torso.

  “I have synthetic and organic micro-machines that are merged with my nervous system. We call them the Sentient. With their help, I can create armor, tap into computer systems, and even break through some kinds of walls. I will find your sister.”

  The Sentient … something about that feels familiar, but the whole getting murdered by the Authority thing has me a little distracted.

  Thorne focuses his big brown eyes on me, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I’ll start looking for your sister once I set up some additional systems.”

  “Do you need any equipment? My lab is downstairs and I have some gear there.”

  “Thank you. That would be very helpful. While I’m at it, Miss Edith brought up a good point. I suggest some security enhancements to the factory. I can link in some of my Sentient to the system and track intruders more efficiently.” He stares sheepishly at his feet. “I don’t have many Sentient, but the ones I have are effective.”

  “I’m sure they’re amazing.” I rub my neck and think things through. This guy can conjure miniature robot things. If he were going to hurt me or Mom, he would have done it by now. “Any security upgrades you can make would be great.”

  Miss Edith blusters back into the room, bringing Mom a blanket. She gives me and Thorne a knowing stare. “You two look cozy.” She then mouths the words: keep saving yourself for this one.

  A jolt of shock moves across my skin. Was my virginity just broadcast across the kitchen?

  I look to Thorne. His biting his lips together, hard.

  Why, yes. Yes, it was.

  It’s beyond time to leave. “Oh, wow. Just got a message from my smart watch.”

  Miss Edith sips her tea and grins. “I didn’t hear any beeps. Doesn’t your watch ding when you get an alert?”

  It does, which brings up two facts. One, Miss Edith is a total gearhead, which I already knew. Two, I really need to leave before she does something else that’s supremely embarrassing.

  “I’ll just take off for school now.” Even saying the word school sends fresh waves of adrenaline churning through me. School isn’t my real destination. It’s Fritz. That’ll be tons of not-fun.

  All the color seems to drain from Thorne’s face. “You’re going to school alone? Where are your guards?”

  “Guards? This is a Learning Squirrel High School. The only thing you need to guard me from is our science teacher, the Bummer.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I say the Bummer. Thorne doesn’t find it amusing, though. If anything, the look on his face turns more intense.

  “Guards,” he repeats.

  Scooping up my backpack from the floor, I open my backpack and show him the interior. “Weapons,” I counter.

  Miss Edith totters over to stand beside me. “Are those chem darts? Can I play with them?”

  Like I said, Miss Edith is a gearhead.

  “Sure you can,” I say to Miss Edith. “But later.” As in a lot later.

  I refocus on Thorne. By the way, it’s really great that we aren’t having any more mind connection incidents. That definitely supports the theory that I’ve been having a series of mini nervous breakdowns.

  A little sad that I’m pulling for the breakdown option here, but I am.

  “Are we good?” I ask Thorne.

  “For now.” The way he says those words, it’s as if I should attend school with a team of bazooka-wielding guards … and he’ll make sure that happens and soon.

  “See you,” I call. Hoisting up my backpack, I make a beeline for the door. Thorne doesn’t follow me. I decide that’s a good thing.

  Fritz doesn’t play well with others.

  Chapter 15

  It doesn’t take long to reach the Scythe’s secret lair. After I hit the outskirts of Winter’s Run, I shimmy up an old drainage ditch. After that, I scramble through old water pipes for a bit. The access pipeline is round, about five feet tall, and lined with rust. The stale scent of mold hangs in the air. After a few feet, a horse fly hovers nearby, its body gleaming with a metallic sheen. I should have guessed this was coming.

  It’s another one of Fritz’s drones.

  He already knows I’m here.

  Finally, I reach a portal door in the wall. The entrance to Scythe central. I knock on the thick metal and wave at the drone. That’s all the greeting I’m giving.

  Fritz pulls open the portal a crack. A slice of his pale face is visible. “You va
nt something, Meimi?”

  What do I want? How about we skip the fake German accent? Sadly, there isn’t time today for our usual banter.

  “You know I’ve got a situation, Fritz. Let me in.”

  “Ya, ya, vee help.” Fritz pulls open the door, revealing a concrete chamber with a low ceiling. Wooden benches line the floor. People are waiting everywhere, all of them miserable. There’s a guy in rags shaking for his next fix. An older woman with a young girl on her lap. Some folks even wear office worker uniforms with the insignia of the Authority on their chests.

  Fritz opens a metal door lining the opposite wall. I follow. Together, we enter a refurbished utility closet that serves as Fritz’s office. It fits a small desk, a set of wobbly chairs, and not much else. I sit and wait until Fritz positions his massive bulk behind the tiny table. Once he’s in place, my not-a-father focuses on me.

  “What’s your emergency this time?” All trace of the fake German accent is gone.

  “I set off some government alarms.”

  Fritz glances at his tabletop, which is one huge touch monitor. “According to these government data feeds, a supposed nuclear blast went off in western Mass … without actually going off. They think it’s a glitch, but Merciless are still being deployed to this area for arrival at 9 am. It’s now 8:40 am. Is this you?”

  “Mom and I worked the drift this morning.” I pause, waiting for Fritz to be impressed that Mom was lucid. Instead, the tips of his ears turn red.

  Whoa. Fritz is really enraged.

  “Here’s what happened,” I say. “The Ozymandias factory slipped into two-dimensional space-time for a little while. It’s showing up as a nuclear blast to the Authority because no one’s gone 2-D before.”

  “I don’t like Merciless crawling all over my part of the state, Meimi. The Scythe pays big money to stay off grid.”

  “I’m sorry. Mom wanted to work the drift and—” I stop myself before saying anything about aliens or finding Luci. “—I guess we got caught up. Please clean things up for me, like you did with RCM1.”

  Muscles flicker along Fritz’s thick neck. “Not so easy this time, Meims. You’re coming to me with a major science crime and all of twenty minutes to cover it up.” He narrows his eyes. “And all because you flipped an entire factory into two dimensional space-time.” Fritz presses some buttons on the top of his desk. “Did you hear that, boss?”

  My stomach seems to tumble through the floor. Fritz has been transmitting our conversation to the Scythe.

  A crackle sounds over the intercom. A deep, silky voice fills the small room. “Bring her in.” I’d know that tone anywhere.

  The Scythe.

  Fritz slumps forward. If I didn’t know the guy was incapable of feeling, I’d think he was relieved.

  Shivering, Fritz exhales a long breath.

  My eyes widen with surprise. I take it back. Fritz is definitely relieved. That’s a good sign. The Scythe must at least be interested in helping to cover things up for me. If it weren’t an option, then I’d just be chucked out on to the street. Or worse, terminated. Even so, I’m curious what possible deal would interest the Scythe enough to save me. Hopefully, another magnetic enhancer will do the trick.

  I give Fritz my most innocent look. This has about a fifty percent success ratio in getting him to spill his guts. “The Scythe wants to see me?” I ask.

  I’ve met the Scythe once before, when I first started doing freelance work for his organization. All I remember about him is that he’s tall, dark, handsome, and—most of all—scary as hell.

  I blink some more. It can’t hurt. “Do you know what he wants?”

  “Nice try,” deadpans Fritz. “I’m telling you zero. Come along, there’s no getting around it now.” He whips open a drawer in his desk and pulls out a black sack with a flourish. “You know the rules. Put this on.”

  I slip the hood over my head. It blocks out any view of the outside world and smells like bad breath and cigarette smoke. Fritz leads me around for about ten minutes or so. All the while, my heart pounds against my rib cage.

  Eventually, his heavy hands press on my shoulders. “Sit.”

  I plunk down onto the softest leather seat that my backside ever touched.

  There’s the clink of ice cubes in a glass, followed by a low chuckle. I know those noises. The Scythe is perpetually holding a glass of whiskey. And that laugh? It’s smooth as silk and terrifying as lightning.

  “You can remove the hood,” says the Scythe.

  Fritz pulls the cloth from my head. I find myself sitting in a posh office, like something you see in contraband magazines from before the Authority, like Beautiful Life or United We Stand. Plus, everything in here is sleek black and stainless steel. There’s a wide desk, and behind that desk sits Mister Tall, Dark, and Terrifying. It’s his eyes, I decide. There’s no emotion in them.

  “Leave us, Fritz,” intones the Scythe.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I sense more than see Fritz depart from the room. A long pause follows where I get another look at my employer. His dark suit is well tailored and paired with a matching shirt and indigo tie. Dark scruff lines his chin, and his short-ish black hair is perfectly coiffed.

  The Scythe takes a long sip of whiskey. “You’ve gotten yourself into a spot of trouble, Meimi Archer. Worse than RCM1, even. And that was rather something.”

  “Please, you must stop the Merciless from getting to my home. Mom and Miss Edith are there. Plus—” I stop myself before adding Thorne to the list. “It was just a little slip-up, really.”

  “Shifting an entire factory into two-dimensional space-time is more than a slip-up. That’s a major science crime.”

  My palms turn slick with sweat. “But you can hide it, right?”

  “Yes, I have contacts who can bury this for me. Everyone owes me favors. But I need something very specific in return.”

  “I can make another magnetic enhancer. You can have it. Free.”

  “No, I need something else. An invention specifically for working the drift. You must have heard the government is in need of fresh science skills.”

  “There was something about this at school. Doctor Godwin says they need experts in chemistry, mechanics, and drift science.”

  “Have you ever thought of getting a sponsor and attending ECHO Academy?”

  I frown. Where is he going with this?

  “No,” I state.

  “Really? I could be that sponsor, you know.”

  Ah, so that’s where he’s going.

  Two words on that particular concept: fat chance.

  “Look,” I begin. “Things are fine between us, just how they are. I can walk away. You can, too. I’ve heard about those sponsorship contracts. You get a so-called free education, but then you spend the rest of your life paying back those loans. I’m not signing some contract to be owned by anyone for a lifetime.”

  A long pause follows as the Scythe sips his drink and eyes me carefully. At length, he speaks again. “No, I don’t think you would. Not willingly, in any case. And there are limits to what even I can do.”

  His words make the small hairs on my neck stand on end. “Not sure what you mean.”

  “I refer to the ECHO Academy, that’s all. You’re right, the Authority needs help in terms of chemistry, mechanics, and drift science. Again, that last category—drift science—is proving especially tricky. The Authority can’t find talent.”

  “I’m guessing they can’t blast knowledge into people’s heads either. Well, not without turning them into the equivalent of mental cabbage.”

  “True.”

  I sit up straighter in my chair. “I won’t work for the Authority.”

  “I’ve sold your inventions to the government before.”

  “And how much has that helped them? Zero. I put fail safes on stuff so my work can’t be reverse engineered.”

  “In that case, we should continue things the way they’ve been going, shouldn’t we?” asks the Scythe. “Th
e magnetic enhancer you created for me; that was a rather impressive invention. The Authority knows I have a freelance agent who can do the impossible with ease. They need skills like yours. As a result, they are willing to pay me very well. That means you’ll benefit, too. Interested?”

  “As long as I can put in my fail safes, I’m fine.” Especially if it keeps me and Mom alive.

  “I can talk the Authority off this morning’s science crime, but my guess is that they’ll want something in return. Fortunately, I’ve already been in discussions regarding our next project.”

  “What kind of project?”

  “One that will prove to the Authority that my freelancer is just what they need, alive.” He slides a data pad across his desk. “Take a look.”

  Picking up the device, I scan the schematics displayed on screen. “They want something that creates drift voids.” I shake my head. “You do realize there are already plenty of labs that can do this already? All you need are a bunch of monoliths.”

  “Read on.”

  So I do just that. A moment later, my heart sinks. “They want something that’s small enough to fit in a briefcase and it’s aimed at my school? Why my school?”

  The Scythe holds his whiskey up to the light. “That was my addition. I was feeling rather mischievous after all this extra effort you’ve been putting me through. You see, I do so love listening to all your conversations with Fritz. I knew you’d give him trouble over the location.”

  “Listening in on other people’s conversations is a violation of privacy.”

  The Scythe pauses from examining his whiskey to give me a dry look. “I care.”

  In a way, the Scythe has a point. There are bigger things to worry about now than how the Scythe is a creeper who listens in on me and Fritz. Leaning back in my chair, I think through this latest project.

  “What do you say?” asks the Scythe. “Can you create this?”

  “Creating that large of a void over my school could erase the whole building. The structure could get sent to another universe or dimension, even.”

  “I notice you didn’t say it was impossible, just impractical.” He grins. “Feel free to edit the specifications so the device works in the middle of the night when no one’s around. Put in as many fail safes as you want. And continue reading until the end.”