The Dome Page 10

  “Eh.” I shake my head. “Hank was supposed to get the ultra-capacitor, remember? She knows her way around the inside of a modem—”

  “Hank.” Daruuk growls to himself and mutters several words in a Vex language from a role-playing world. “If I’m not back in Andala in time to stop my idakarin rival from staging a coup, it will be that female’s fault. Do you know what she said to me when I asked her for her contribution to the Underground?”

  I shake my head, although I have a sinking feeling I know what Hank said.

  “She said she wasn’t going to help me build a modem or Vex set. That she had indeed salvaged an ultra-capacitor, but she wasn’t going to give it to me. Because she has to protect her family, which means she can’t break any Global rules.” Daruuk snorts. “Can you believe that? She’s already eating out of Mr. Winn’s hand like a snidalin rat.” He scowls at me. “You’d better not fail me, Hom. I can’t take another betrayal today.”

  “I want access to Vex as much as you do.” It’s my only hope of ever seeing Gun again. “I was supposed to get a goggle, but my mom took my set before I could get it.”

  I flash back to that moment when Mom took my set. I was so angry. I’d do anything to turn back time and undo our fight. Fights. We had so many of them.

  “So how exactly are you going to help us if you didn’t get the ultra-capacitor or the goggle?” Daruuk asks.

  “I got something. I’m just not sure what it is. Do you have time to come back to my house?”

  Daruuk makes a dramatic gesture with both arms. “Lead the way, Hom. I have no doubt Andala will be in chaos when I return. When I restore order, I will be certain to name a significant landscape in my kingdom after you …” Daruuk continues to ramble on extravagantly about his virtual kingdom until we reach my bungalow.

  After making sure Dad isn’t home—not that I really expected him to be—I let the boys inside and lead them into my room. Riska peers over my shoulder as I stick my hand into my spare pair of boots. I pull out a small tube made of metal and glass, a black chip studded with gold circuitry, and a larger tube stuffed with black wires.

  “I grabbed these right before the League attacked,” I say, holding them out to Daruuk. “They were in the pocket of my jumpsuit. The League didn’t search us, and amazingly they didn’t get smashed or broken during …” I trail off as I catch Daruuk’s expression. His nose is wrinkled and both eyebrows are raised. “What?” I demand.

  “You.” Daruuk jabs a finger at me, ignoring Riska’s growl of warning. “You are good, Hom. Damn good.” He grins. “This”—he picks up the black chip—“is a GPU. Crystal failed to secure one for our movement. And this”—he picks up the smaller of the tubes—“is a two terabyte NVRAM chip. I’ve already got one, but I can use this one in a trade with Uncle Zed to get a wireless NIC with built-in encryption. Not as good as the quantum encryption that’s currently out, but it will hide what we’re doing.” He picks up the last tube, holding it up between thumb and forefinger, then unscrews the top part and empties its contents into his hand: a thin PC board with a port of some kind on one end. “This is an X1200L full-duplex transceiver. Essential to our quest. Andrew secured his, but it was broken during transit. You’re good, Hom. I take back what I said before. I’m going to name an entire country after you when I get back to Andala.”

  “And … just when do you think that will be?” I ask.

  Daruuk slips the small electronic components into his pocket. “I can’t provide an exact timeline. Yet. Too many missing pieces I have to make.”

  “Or trade for,” Alexi adds. “We’re missing about half of the components. The Winns really derailed our project when they accelerated the timeline.”

  “The VHS Underground is alive and well,” Daruuk says, dramatically throwing one hand into the air. “We will prevail.”

  “It’s just going to take us longer than we expected,” Alexi adds.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let me know if there is something else I can help with.”

  “Until next time, Hom.” Daruuk bows to me. “Muscle boy.” He nods his head at Taro before marching out the door. Alexi gives us a wave before disappearing after Daruuk.

  “Don’t mind Daruuk,” I say. “He’s a little eccentric. Brilliant, but eccentric. He’s going to cobble together a Vex modem and headset so we can access Vex.”

  “I gathered that.” For an instant, Taro lets down his guard and I see the worry in his face. “You want to contact him again, don’t you?” The worry disappears, replaced by his unreadable mercenary countenance.

  “Gun. His name is Gun.” It takes an effort to keep my voice level. “I need to see him and make sure he’s okay. He risked a lot helping us escape the League.”

  Taro scrubs a hand through his hair. “I know he’s your friend, Sulan—”

  “One of my best friends, Taro.”

  “I know. And he did help rescue us. I just don’t trust him. I’m sorry. I—”

  “Just give him a chance,” I say. “When Daruuk finishes the Vex sets, come into Vex with me and I’ll introduce you.”

  “Somehow I doubt your friend will be willing to let the Muscle boy use one of his sets.”

  I grimace. “Sorry about the name. I told you Daruuk is eccentric. But don’t worry about him. I’ll work something out and get you access. Please? Just give Gun a chance.”

  Taro draws a long breath. “All right. I’ll give him a chance for your sake. Just promise you’ll be careful around him, okay?”

  “Promise.” I don’t add that I don’t need to be careful around Gun. I trust him every bit as much as I trust Taro.

  17

  Prep

  THE NEXT DAY, Kerry introduces us to several new Green Combat prototypes, all of which will be ready for release in the next six months. She reviews the Gavs, Risk Alleviators, and Aircats with us, then segues into other creatures.

  “These are Buggets.” Kerry hands a picture to me. “They’re part tick, part termite, part cockroach, and part sheer genius.”

  “They look like bugs,” I say, peering at the picture of an insect with a shiny gray shell and a nasty set of mandibles.

  “They’re much more than mere bugs,” Kerry says. “They’re biological bullets. Much cheaper than regular bullets. You can buy ten Buggets for the price of one bullet. We’re developing them in different sizes so they can be used in different caliber weapons.”

  “How do they work?” Billy studies the picture when I hand it to him.

  “Any standard gun can be modified to fire them. The creature hibernates within its shell until the blast of gunpowder awakens it—”

  “The blast doesn’t kill it?” Taro asks.

  “The Bugget has been engineered to secrete a titanium shell,” Kerry replies. “Once the blast kick-starts it out of hibernation, it’s ravenous. The gun propels it into the flesh of our enemies, and the Bugget burrows into the target.”

  Silence. All four of us stare at the picture. I imagine that pair of mandibles tearing into my flesh, and shiver. I’d rather get shot with a regular bullet.

  “I see you all appreciate the Bugget.” Kerry smiles. “Global will never lack for bullets. I can’t say the same for our competition. Just six weeks ago, there was a mercenary team in South Dakota that ran out of ammunition while delivering food. They were cornered by a street gang and massacred.”

  She produces another picture and hands this one to Taro. “This is our Bioblaster. It’s cross engineered from a jellyfish, octopus, vampire bat, and a few other tidbits.”

  I lean close to Taro and study the photograph. The creature is a mottled brown-green with tentacles that wrap around the wrist of a human.

  “Each Bioblaster has a symbiotic relationship with a human. It will attack and deliver a paralyzing sting to any other biological life form that threatens its human. This gives an edge to all of our soldiers in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “Symbiotic relationship?” Billy says. “What sort of symbiotic relationship?”<
br />
  “It draws a small amount of blood from its host every day.” Kerry delivers her signature smile, like the idea of a bloodsucking bioweapon isn’t disturbing. “This allows it to bond with the host, and thus trigger its instinct to protect it from threats.”

  “A vampire jellyfish.” I wrinkle my nose.

  “Sulan, you must avoid such unpleasant countenances when in public.” Kerry collects the pictures from us, puts them into a neat stack, then holds up a picture of a Gav. “Now, from the beginning,” she says. “Hank, tell us everything you know about the Green Attack Vehicles.”

  ***

  And so the week passes. Our days are spent with Kerry, where we work on our personas and practice answering questions. We are quizzed on Global Green Combat weapons, each of us responsible for knowing every detail about them. Kerry teaches us how to steer the conversations, always prompting us to direct the talk back to Global Arms when possible.

  Hank excels at all this. She’s a complete natural, blossoming under Kerry’s tutelage. She maneuvers difficult questions with the dexterity of a politician, seamlessly finding ways to promote Global at every turn.

  Even if I disagree with the way she’s gone all in with Global, I have to admire her skill. The rest of us stumble along, looking rough and unpolished next to her.

  This is a new situation for me. I’ve always been better than Hank at everything we did in school. Here, in this new world, I’m the one who needs tutoring.

  I decide to make an effort during our sessions with Kerry. I may not like what I’m being forced to do, but I’ll get farther as Mr. Winn’s pet than I will as a rebellious teenager.

  Kerry delivers dazzling smiles as she sees me progressing. This tells me that, at the very least, I won’t look like an incoherent idiot when I’m thrust back onto the virtual stage.

  Near the end of the week, Kerry hands out a sheet of paper to each of us. I take it, surprised to see what looks like an old-fashioned computer printout.

  “These are your schedules,” she says. “It shows when and where you’ll be appearing in Vex, and who your partner is. None of you is ready to appear in public alone. Sulan and Hank, you’ll be paired together for this first round of appearances. Sulan, your job is to mimic Hank’s cheerfulness and enthusiasm. Hank, your job is to continue as you have been. Mr. Winn is very pleased with your work here.”

  Hank beams.

  “Billy and Taro, the two of you will be paired together. Taro, keep up the stoic mercenary persona. Mr. Winn likes that. Billy, I’ve asked to have your avatar equipped with a pair of sunglasses. This way you won’t have to worry about making eye contact with anyone. That should help you to be more comfortable in public. In return, Mr. Winn asks that you smile at least three times during each appearance. Can you do that?”

  Billy shrugs and nods.

  “All right.” Kerry claps her hands. “That’s a wrap. Public appearances begin tomorrow. I recommend you spend tonight mentally prepping yourselves. I expect all you to come back here with your game faces.”

  ***

  After the Aircats drop us off in the Village, Taro and I drift toward one another, like we always do at the end of the day. Our post-Kerry workouts have become a daily tradition. We hit the punching bags or spar, sometimes both if one of us is carrying an extra load of aggravation. Part of me is surprised at how close we’ve become in such a short amount of time.

  I expect Hank and Billy to head off together, like they do every evening when the Aircats return us to the Village. To my surprise, Hank intercepts me.

  “Do you want to prep together tonight?”

  “More practice?” I shake my head. “No, Taro and I are going to work out and grab some dinner.” I don’t bother telling her that a good workout will put me in a better headspace for tomorrow. She wouldn’t understand.

  “We should prep together,” Hank insists. “Like we used to do in Café Blu. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Remembering all our times together, studying for exams in Café Blu, sends a pang of sadness through me. I never thought I would miss Virtual High and my life as a student in Vex. I never appreciated those moments with my friend, and now they’re gone.

  “Not tonight, Hank.”

  I turn away. Taro raises an eyebrow at me in a silent question. I give a bare shake of my head. I’m afraid I’ll get in an argument with Hank if I stick around.

  The two of us are half a dozen steps away when Hank calls out after me.

  “Sulan! Wait.” She jogs toward me. “We’re partners tomorrow. I just want us to do right by Global. They’ve given us all this.” She gestures, taking in the Dome and the Village. “I really think you should go home and rest. Clear your mind and think about what we have to do tomorrow when we’re in Vex.”

  “Studying was always your thing.” I struggle to control the irritation boiling up my spine. “You prep in the way that’s best for you. I’ll do what’s best for me.”

  “Fighting has never been what’s best for you!” she snaps, face turning red. “At VHS you wasted all your free time in the Cube. Now in the Dome you waste your free time sparring and exercising. You’re a math prodigy, Sulan! I wish you’d quit wasting your time chasing your stupid mercenary daydream.”

  The rational part of my brain tells me to walk away. Nothing I say will help the direction of this conversation.

  The irrational part of my brain is a seething knot of anger and overpowers the rational half. Words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  “I’m glad you’re happy being Mr. Winn’s superstar,” I snap.

  “Just because I care about my work at Global doesn’t mean—”

  “Please.” I scowl at her. “Listen to you. Your work? We’re not in school, Hank. Mr. Winn is capitalizing on our tragedies. He’s using us. And if we don’t do what he says, he’ll hurt people we care about. That’s called blackmail.”

  “Mr. Winn is giving us a good life here. We owe him and we owe Global.” Hank straightens. “If you want to be angry with Mr. Winn and waste your potential, be my guest. But you’re my partner in Vex tomorrow. I’m not going to be dragged down by you. I’ve got my family to think about.”

  In my periphery, I notice Taro and Billy edging away from us.

  “Oh. Right. I guess all those years I spent helping you study really ruined your GPA. Don’t you see me making a real effort with Kerry? Seriously, Hank, have I ever—ever—done anything to hold you back or drag you down?”

  There’s a brief moment when our eyes lock. Looking at Hank’s earnest, determined face, I see the truth of our unraveling friendship. Mr. Winn and the Dome have driven a wedge between us. We’re on two sides of a rapidly growing divide, and it makes me ache with anguish.

  I shake her off and stalk away without another word, blinking rapidly against tears.

  18

  Dad

  I CAN’T SLEEP. My fight with Hank keeps replaying in my head.

  I wish you’d quit wasting your time chasing your mercenary daydream.

  Stifling a groan, I flip over onto my stomach and pull the pillow over my head. Riska rumbles and gets to his feet, turning in a circle to find a more comfortable position.

  My back and arms are sore from my two-hour sparring session with Taro. You’d think, with that kind of physical exertion, I’d be able to turn off my brain and get some sleep, but no such luck.

  The clock next to my bed reads two in the morning. I mutter in annoyance, wishing desperately for sleep.

  The front door opens and closes. Dad is just getting home from the lab now. These long days are normal for him. I’ve barely seen him since we arrived in the Dome.

  I listen to him move around in the living room. His footsteps draw near my bedroom and pause outside. Is he going to check on me?

  Dad stands outside for so long I begin to think I imagined hearing him approach. Then I hear the doorknob turn. There’s a whisper of air as my bedroom door swings open. I lay still, pretending to be asleep, not in the mo
od to talk to anyone.

  “Riska.” Dad’s voice feathers the air. “Come on, boy.”

  To my surprise, Riska rises. I feel him stretch beside me. There’s the soft whoosh of his wings as he flies to Dad.

  The door closes with barely a sound. A few seconds later, I hear the front door open and close.

  What’s going on? Several seconds pass as I lay there in shock, my brain trying to catalogue what just happened.

  I jump out of bed and run to the window. There’s the barest glimpse of Dad’s back before he disappears out of sight, Riska riding on his shoulder.

  Even though I’m wearing nothing more than my Global-issued pajamas—blue-and-green checkered flannel with the company logo embroidered on the sleeves—I throw open the window and scramble out.

  Outside, I force myself to a sedate walk, as if I’m just out for a stroll. In the middle of the night. Barefoot. With the Alaskan sun casting long shadows across the ground, it doesn’t feel like nighttime.

  I spot Dad six houses ahead of me. He passes one more house, then turns right onto a connecting street.

  The gravel road grinds into the soles of my feet. I cut to the right, darting between two houses to the green belt that runs along the back of the homes. The Village is silent around me.

  I skim along the grass, moving lightly on the balls of my feet. When I reach the cross street, I slow, peering out cautiously. Dad is a distant figure, looking for all the world like he’s out for a post-midnight stroll.

  I grit my teeth as I step back onto the gravel road and continue after Dad. Staying a good fifty yards behind him, I follow him through the streets. Once, Riska glances back at me and swishes his tail, but he never gives me away.