Eli & Co.
“See you at the bonfire. Twenty minutes.
Eli felt a twist in her stomach as she sent the text. She hadn’t been to the woods since homecoming night. Since Radvi sent himself into a coma. It was hard enough that they were meeting Packet to ask him to join their expedition. To live hoco night again through distant memories would be even more difficult. Although their old party spot was now on the map of the security officers, Eli thought it would be the best place to avoid any cameras or listening bugs. There were slim chances that a security officer would make their way to the one spot that one of their colleagues had fallen on the one day the group decided to meet. If their messages were being monitored, it would be hard to pinpoint the exact location they could have a bonfire. The station might have been small, but there were plenty of places for students to hide from security’s watchful eye.
She looked up from where she sat at the edge of the forest. The rest of the group would be arriving soon, but she was glad to have this time to herself. It had only been two days since the decision had been made to go to the Spire, but to Eli it felt like years. The anxiety she felt about risking the group’s lives- her life- was building more and more as time passed. She could barely sleep. Instead, she took the time to write her mother a letter. It was stuck inside of her pocket ready to be sent before they took their first steps towards certain disaster. It would be too obvious to send a text and too hard to say goodbye in a call. A letter would do the trick, and it would arrive after their mission was through. It didn’t say anything that would alert the Promise if they read letters before they were sent. It would just say what it needed to, and her mother would be able to move on if she never heard from Eli again. It was hard to imagine her mother’s grief, but it would mean that her mom would never have to worry about Eli’s safety again. Especially after the welcoming day.
Eli took a deep breath through her nose, and she slowly released it through her mouth. She listened to the sounds of the woods and let it ground her. She closed her eyes. Only a few more minutes until the rest arrived.
In Lynn’s head, there was still the rhythmic
thump thump of hitting the bag. She’d left the meeting with all her senses dancing with nerves.
Someone will talk, she knew, reinforcing every detail of Leotard she could remember into her brain. She didn’t like how little she knew of him, and how open-handed Denim had been in giving him information.
The Promise hasn’t ever thrown friends at us when we needed them, she wanted to scream. A guy who could infect people with spores? To Lynn, it was all too similar to what they’d heard and seen of Arianna. Had Lynn not been confident she could repel his spores, she would’ve had more of an outrage at working alongside him. Even so, she couldn’t admit they weren’t desperate.
Thump thump Lynn hit the bag, knocking the bag that was over half her body weight back as far as its chain would allow it before it came swinging back. Lynn grunted and let it slam into her before grappling it with one arm - that barely was able to reach around it well enough - and threw kidney punch after kidney punch into the side. Sweat glistened down her cheeks for only a few minutes before it started to steam off her, and the air around the bag filled with shimmering heat and a sauna’s worth of steam. With no gloves, her knuckles split open against the leather after a quarter hour, only to stitch themselves back as she pulled her arm back for another punch, the wound cauterized before it had time to bleed.
After she’d exhausted herself on the bag, she ate more than she could possibly fathom at Vaquero’s and tried her best to sleep. When that hadn’t worked, she walked. And walked. Anywhere. Thinking over all the ways things could go wrong. Ways of getting in. The kid on fire, trying to pull the molten gun off his skin as it fused in, burning and scalding. The cafeteria that first day. The smell of gunpowder. Her knee exploding with pain. Her eye itching. A hospital bed. Making fun of the hostess. Having to grab Leotard around the neck like she had Salamandra. Denim putting flour on the ground. Leather jackets. Security doors. Would they have tear gas? Archie choking and wheezing as the gas burned his eyes and throat, his skin rippling as his spine popped and snapped. The feel of a gun kicking in her hand, the barrel cherry red after only a shot or two. Seeing a meat cleaver through her knee. The feeling of burning out. Cold. Hairless. Ugly. Hospital beds. Clarita and Megan. Che was still alive out there somewhere. She wondered if she’d ever see him again. She didn’t know if she’d kill him or drink with him.
Lynn stopped at a window somewhere. The Earth was blue. There wasn’t a lot of blue on the Promise, she thought.
I guess the Bloods claimed this place early. She folded her arms over, watching for a moment in silence. In the martial law since the fuck-up at the loading dock, there weren’t many people out. No one stopped to talk to Lynn, although the security watched her each time she passed.
No thanks from you fucks, she wanted to hiss.
I stopped them, I keep stopping them, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve let Salamandra go. But as soon as all that started to boil up and her hair began to ignite she’d remember Salamandra’s hand in Archie’s hair, throwing him to the floor, the monstrous fuck outside Spoons had fought, the doll in the woods, the feeling of smashing her head into the wall and -
thump thump. Lynn blinked and looked out at the window. “It’s kinda fucked I had to go into space to see the ocean,” Lynn said to no one in particular.
Then she walked on.
Lynn’s nerves went from primed and jittery to absolute calm. She ate as much as she could. Her eye itched. She kept as low a profile as a walking bonfire can. She went to the woods, the smell of the trees refreshing a bit. Lynn wondered if there was time to get absolutely hammered before all this went to hell.
Kinda fucked we have to die sober, she thought. Throughout it all she’d had no idea what she would do with Packet.
If this virgin is half as smart as he thinks he is he’ll ghost this meeting. She walked towards the bonfire, wanting to rest her hands in her hoodie as she normally did. Her jean pockets weren’t the same. Scowling, she stepped over the fallen branches.
I wonder if half of Paw Patrol’s skull is still lying somewhere out here, she thought. Lynn stepped into the clearing after circling it once from a distance, looking for any security guards or teenagers who’d slipped out here to hook up
A hospital bed. Denzel was waiting. Denzel looked rattled. Lynn figured that was probably normal. She wondered how she looked. She’d gotten a good glimpse at herself when she’d changed the bandages that morning. She’d thought seeing her own kneecap burst open would be the freakiest thing she’d ever see, but Lynn had proven incorrect. There was
stuff in the socket. Shit was weird.
Lynn stood next to one of the trees, unsure of how to start this conversation. She rubbed at her head and nudged her itching eye through the bandages, which prompted a dull pain, though far less severe than it had been the day before. “So,” Lynn finally said, looking around. “Is this guy as big a fucking nerd as I’m imagining?”
Despite Eli’s current emotional state, Lynn’s comment cracked a smile across her face. She looked up at Lynn. From this angle, she looked older. She’d grown so much since Eli first met her. While she hadn’t exactly matured physically, Eli could notice the difference in the way Lynn stood. The way Lynn acted around the group. Someone who was once so untrusting looked comfortable with who she was with. Eli’s eyes glazed over the bandage on her face, and she was beginning to wonder if Lynn would ever see her new eye.
”If you’re asking if he’s smart, I’d say he’s definitely the biggest nerd on the Promise.” Her smile grew wider and she pushed herself up onto her feet, now looking down on Lynn.
”If he does agree to come with us onto the Spire, he’ll do a lot more than quote Star Gate though.”
Walking through the woods in the day, Keaton found it difficult to reconcile what she remembered of the woods with the trees around her. That, however, only served to focus her attention on her surroundings as she worked out where the campground was, where the group had headed that night, where Arianna had disappeared to and where Radvi had almost bled out over the leaves. What stood out to her more than the tragedy that’d occurred, though, was how useless she’d been then. Tipsy and hesitant and failing to fight through alcohol-fueled doubt, she’d been completely useless, helpless up until the moment she’d forced herself to step forward, and by then it was already too late.
But it’d been different at the loading bay. She hadn’t been useless, hadn’t let her doubts get to her. She’d grabbed a gun and gotten it done, and that’s what made walking through these woods that much more bearable. History could repeat itself now. Keaton wouldn’t be making that kind of a mistake again. This time, and every time after, if that mattered, she’d bring her A game.
Spotting Eli and Lynn up ahead, she waved, walking towards them. “Hey,” she said when she was close enough, offering a smile as she glanced between them. Neither of them looked to be in the best of spirits, but not being in the worst was good. They were sorting things out then, Eli with her family and friends and Lynn with herself. They weren’t done yet, but they still had time. She and Nic still weren’t ready, unfortunately, but they were taking their time because it was better to be safe than sorry. Aside from meeting twice a day, once in the morning before traffic into the Spire started and once in the evening after it ended, they met whenever Nic found something new. So far they’d been fine aligning old blueprints to the current layout, marking out room functions and contents when it mattered.
For her part, Keaton had been spending a lot of time at the library, either looking things up on the computers or going through the paper files the place had to offer. It’d been a slow process that’d left her waiting more often than not, but finding ways to obtain information without tipping off Cara helped keep her occupied for the most part. She’d considered swapping her denim jackets for hoodies when she headed to the library, but she’d figured that too obvious. Instead she’d settled for shades and caps and kept the rest of her life exactly as it’d been. Suddenly quitting her jobs at the bookstore and loading bay would’ve been a dead giveaway, she figured, and a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt.
“How long until he gets here?” she asked, looking to Eli. She was referring to Packet since she’d figured Nic would show up sooner or later, and she was asking more for the sake of asking than for the answer. She trusted Eli, after all, and some of that trust extended to Packet. Now it was just a matter of finding out how much and whether that trust was reciprocated.
“Don’t let Denim hear you say that, it’ll hurt her feelings.” Lynn paused as Eli mentioned Star Gate. Was that something on the Promise? She frowned for a minute. It was either some weird nerd shorthand for the hangar bay doors or maybe like some lame ass codeword for one of the paras on the station. At least a name like Salamandra was badass, and -
Lynn frowned. She realized she had thought Salamandra’s name and not thought of - of when she’d - when it had - Lynn reached for a cigarette and drew one out, fumbling with the pack.
Lynn heard rustling in the woods and started, turning to see. She cursed under her breath and rotated her whole body to see.
Useless fuckin’ thing, Lynn thought, irritated as she scratched at the bandages once more.
Denim came out of the woods, seemingly alone. Lynn studied her closely, looking for a bulge in the shirt before dismissing that idea.
Why collect evidence when they’d just line us against a wall anyway? Lynn realized she hadn’t even questioned Eli’s being there, although she supposed Eli might’ve slipped her a hallucinatory message or something if she needed to. Lynn remembered being - not afraid, because Lynn wasn’t afraid of anyone, she’d have you know, and she’d punch you for the implication - but, well, unnerved by the thought Eli might fuck around in her head when they’d first met.
Yeah, wouldn’t have guessed that she’d probably get more fucked if she snooped around in my skull than I would. Still, Denim might find a way to communicate it. She’d already spoken before Lynn piped up with, “Oy, Denim - how’s the garden doing?” Lynn said, with measured casualness in every word. In her pocket, Lynn massaged a few cigarettes out into her hand, feeling the warm steady heat of her hand broil inside the jeans for just a moment, until the cigarettes started to crumble into a fistful of hot ash.
”Don’t let Denim hear you say that…”Eli grinned and proceeded to shrug. Both of them were geniuses. She would have responded with that answer if she hadn’t heard the movement in the trees. Her head turned, and her heart raced for a moment, but it was only Keaton. Eli released a small breath, and felt her shoulders relax a little as she returned the wave. She was still tense, yes, but it felt better to have friends in the woods instead of being alone. She checked the time on her phone and aimed her answer at Keaton.
”About fifteen minutes until he gets here.”Lynn’s question reminded Eli of something she’d wanted to say. She looked between the girls before pocketing her phone.
”I’d like to know how that is going, too. I want to compare it to the public record of the schematic so that we know what portions of the Spire are listed. If we have the advantage of knowing secret passageways and rooms, it will be easier to fool the staff if we’re caught on board.” It was a tactical advantage to know how much their enemy underestimated them, but it was also out of Eli’s own need to feel safe on the Spire. Hopefully the staff had no idea they were coming, and hopefully if they were discovered, they would know more about the Spire than some average security chump would. She was certain that most of the staff were unaware of these secret spots. If there were any secrets on the Spire that even security didn’t know of. Which Eli expected there to be many.
There was a crashing, and a cursing from the bushes. A nasally voice hissing to themselves about how they should’ve worn their good pants, and how, even in space, they still managed to get dirty outside. From the treeline, a young man appeared. He was no taller than Eli, but hunched over. He had the lanky body type one would expect of a person who would shoot up in the next few years of their lives. He wore thick, rounded glasses, a button nose and a smattering of freckles on his face with a mop of auburn hair on his head. He dusted himself off, far too occupied with himself to notice the numerous eyes on him. When he was satisfied with cleaning himself he stood, and went straight as a board when he counted more than just Eli at the meeting sight.
“I- I didn’t know there’d be…” He trailed off, trying to catch himself in case these unfamiliar faces were also the unfriendly kind. “Uh, hello. Packet. I’m Packet. Nice to meet you all?” Packet said, unsure of himself. He clutched papers in hand close to his chest as if protecting them. “I figured I’d come a bit early. You know the saying. Uh, if you’re early you’re on time?” He said, allowing a nervous laugh to escape his body. His eyes flashed to Eli, begging for some help here. Some tell that these people were okay and not going to kill him.
Eli gave Packet an apologetically warm smile, and finally pushed herself up onto her feet. She stepped to stand beside Packet and gestured to the group.
”Hey, Packet. These are my friends. They’re going to come with me, so they wanted to meet you.” She looked back at Packet, the same smile still on her face.
”I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I just wanted to keep our messages as short as possible.””And they haven’t picked codenames yet.” She teased in an attempt to break the ice. Her eyes glanced between the group and Packet. Hopefully this meeting would go well.
Keaton blinked at Lynn’s question about the garden, then cracked a small smile. “It’s been a lot of weeding and waiting, but we’re on schedule to harvest,” she said, fully amused at the fact that her suggestion days ago had caught on. Technically, anything off-topic she texted the group about could be read as an update, but gardening worked fine. The spores Nic was growing inside various members of the staff were close enough to plants, she supposed, and the thought of considering infected members of the staff to be part of a garden was as funny as it was off-putting.
At Eli’s statements, she nodded assent. Having schematics was such a huge advantage that it may as well be considered vital. Though Nic’s power was helping to create some rudimentary maps of the Spire, having the official blueprints would ensure that the group could be as efficient as possible during their break-in, and they needed every advantage they could get at this point.
Packet announced himself by rustling bushes and cursing, and he revealed himself to be a tall, lanky boy immediately placeable as a nerd. His height threw Keaton off since she’d assumed he was younger, though she supposed ‘younger’ was a vague enough term that her power didn’t tell her off the idea. When he spoke, though, his age showed, but he still wasn’t as young as Keaton thought. He was younger than her and Eli, but older than Lynn, who was… very young, now that she thought about it. It’d been a long time since she thought of Lynn as anything but paranoid, capable, and wise beyond her years, but Packet was a good reminder of the truth. Still, Keaton kept her thoughts off her face, focusing on Packet as he spoke. If there was any distraction Lynn didn’t need at the moment, it was pity.
“Hey, I’m Keaton, and I think my identity is compromised enough that my real name works fine,” she said after Eli reassured the boy. Packet looked nervous to the point of fear, and in a way it wasn’t unwarranted. Considering what he specialized in, Keaton could only guess at the types of dealings he’d had up until now, though she wondered how he hadn’t gotten flagged by the system already. Either Cara was getting lax, or he’d managed to evade Cara, and Keaton had a hunch it was the latter.
“And you’re fine. We’re not going to hurt you,” she said, wanting to get the nervousness out of the air as quickly as possible. “Our goal right now is staying low, and I suspect crossing you doesn’t help with that.”
“So here is how this is going to work,” Packet began, rolling out a schematic of The Promise’s sewage system across a table. “I take you down to the guts of the ship, and I’ll take you to the thousand year door. Generally speaking, the only security we’ll have to consider are cameras if we all meet up early. Before shifts begin.” He explained, dragging his hand along the route and tapping on the door he would be leading them to.
“And I mean
early early. 3AM early. That seems to be when security is at its lowest manpower and you all are least likely to be caught.” He focused on the door for a moment, seeming to think over his words carefully. “I can get you in, and I can guarantee you an hour undetected by camera. Any longer than that, and they’ll notice. I also can’t protect you from guards. Because, well, duh.” He explained, motioning to himself. “I can stay to open the door again when you come back, but if you’re not there within an hour, you’ll need some serious muscle to get it open. I hope you all have a guy for that.”
Lynn stared at him for a moment, folding her hands under her armpits to mask the shaking.
He’s so fucking young, Lynn thought, looking him over. On the Promise, everyone represented some kind of threat, some in ways more easily imagined - the security team, the wide-eyed and bushy-tailed narcs who followed Gennedy like lapdogs - others like Archie, hiding some kind of power that wasn’t readily obvious. In juvy - a para juvy no less - one tended to quickly learn how to eye someone over, how to notice tattoos or scars, the way they carried themselves, the barest ripples in fabric that hinted at a weapon tucked under a shirt.
It took Lynn about two seconds for her paranoia to run through every possibility of this one, and they all came up empty.
Jesus Christ we’re enlisting Napoleon Dynamite she thought. She blinked, almost wondering if he’d ridden a bike here and was trying to talk to them about that underwear religion or whatever.
“Cordelia Lynn Holmes,” Lynn said without a trace of hesitation after Keaton offered her own name. Lynn wasn’t about to be the lone bitch in the group, and there was a kind of power in calling the bluff like that. It wasn’t really a front on Lynn’s part, either. Their fuses had been lit, and Lynn’s was shortest, burning brightest. If this one ratted, she wanted Gennedy to hear her full fuckin’ name before they kicked down her door. “Quick question before we Ocean’s Eleven this shit - why are you helping us?” She stared at him, the way he stood, the way he breathed, the way his fingers twitched on the map. Unfolding the map looked like unwrapping Christmas presents, in a strange way that Lynn could not explain, and could not understand why she thought of in that precise moment. His hands were trembling.
Are you still scared to talk to girls, is that it? Lynn wanted to ask him, and might have, if it had just been the two of them, but there was no reason to make him look like a bitch in front of the others.
Are you scared of me? Of them? What is it?
Packet stopped his explanation, not that he had much left to say anyways. There was only so much to say and, well, if he was being honest he was the guy in the chair. He was the guy that did the talking more than the doing and if he was honest with himself that was probably a good thing. He looked Keaton, and then Lynn over. He wanted to talk, to speak more freely… but his mind reeled him back in. He was shaking like a leaf and he knew it, but this was the time to be brave.
“I… can't tell you much about myself. I’m sorry.” Packet explained. He had to remain anonymous. He had to. If things went wrong he didn’t want to die, because someone had to stick around to make sure that when another group of people trying to do the right thing came along that he was there to help them, too. “And- I’m helping because, well, Eli and Cara asked me to.”
Nic had been to the woods before. Not often, just the one time when he’d met the rest of the gang, back when Archie and Natalie were all dolled up. He’d been stumbling out of his own way before
he saw the light, both in a figurative and literal sense. You could technically have a decent case for accusing him of being nostalgic. In his heart of hearts, there was nothing that he yearned for more than a waypoint marker to follow, a will’o-the-wisp of sorts, or better yet --
an angel.
He didn’t know where he was going; he was only vaguely aware that he was supposed to head for where he’d already been. It only became clear that he was on the right path when he noticed an accumulation of crushed red solo-cups tattered and torn in the underbrush.
Finally, he thought to himself, allowing himself to hope that he was on the right trail.
But as things became clearer, as he gained sight of his objective, he felt his mind tearing back and forth as an onslaught of moving pictures trickled into his mind like glass shards swimming into his fingertips, unmistakably sharp and simultaneously invisible. That was, until he realized what it was:
Those goddamned squirrels were interfering with his vision. Upon drawing the realization, the ache of their transmissions sawing into his gray matter softened. Rather than tuning out the noise, he focused on its intrusion. Like a 1970s patriarch meticulously folding the antennae of his television, he stepped into the range where the
squirrelvision was clearest.
And, all at once, he had a complete overhead map of the forest, complete with random perceptual discrepancies and contradictions caused by the juxtaposition of incompatible biochemistry. A solid five minutes later, after memorizing the layout of the forest and intentionally checking out of the overhead
squirrelvision, he caught up with the gang.
He arrived just in time to hear Packet announce that he was assisting because
Eli and Cara had asked him to. In a petty moment of infantile jealousy, he felt his heart slam down like a gavel, and felt the nerves all throughout his body shudder like a snapping harp-string. He noisily crunched on a twig, like an unstealthy imbecile. As disappointed as he was in himself, he hid his frustration behind a gleeful, excited sort of puppy-dog grin.
“Hey guys, sorry for the holdup. So this is Packet? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
There were too many
hell the fuck no’s bursting open in Lynn’s mind for any single one to reign supreme. Actually, there were just two, but they were both equally dizzying: the guy who had for sure tried to put it in a pocket protector at one point was working with Cara, and Leotard was back. “Eli and Cara?” Lynn repeated, looking between the two of them. Eli and Cara, as in Eli and Cara as separate entities individually asked him, or Eli & Cara, as in, in bed together, hand in hand, can you lead the rest of the only kids who know something’s up on the Promise right into the most hardened facility?
Then something occurred to her, looking at the lain-out maps. Wait. Sewers. Lynn kicked the dirt and turned for a moment, biting at her knuckles. It was always this way, wasn’t it? There was always some bullshit whatever she had to deal with. “Okay, we’re going to unpack all of this in order,” Lynn said, turning back around. A very small quiet voice was saying this was just a kid trying his best, and it kept Lynn’s knuckles bloodied from herself rather than his face, or a tree, or maybe just splitting spontaneously out of pure irritation. “First and foremost, even if we decide this is legit, which I want to make, you know, crystal clear and shit I’m not sure it is, there’s no way I can go through that tunnel. All the, like, sewer gas and stuff.” She bit, the words like envelope glue off her tongue. “Unless there’s a collar.”
Unless I’m like a fuckin’ gen one. “Second, I would appreciate a little more light shed on the Cara aspect here,” Lynn said, to Eli and Packet alike. “Third - “ Leotard was smiling like he just had a conjugal visit, which was fitting, given that Lynn was a prisoner here, and she’d just been fucked pretty royally. “Any - fuck. Fuck.”
Though Keaton directed a nod at Nic when he arrived, she was too busy processing what Packet had just said to register him properly. Eli and
Cara? For one, heart-stopping moment, she considered the possibility that Packet had ratted them out before even meeting them. That Lynn was right, that it was all over before it even began. Then, her power caught up to her, assuring her that Packet had not betrayed them, that Eli had no idea either, and that Packet was truly trying to help them. The problem, then, was figuring out whether that was fact or simply something Packet believed.
To Keaton’s surprise, Lynn’s reaction was actually rather reasonable. She called for order, listing the topics in the order she wanted them covered, and Keaton was almost proud of her. Lynn had always possessed the maturity required to swallow her anger and pull that off, but she’d rarely stepped up to a leadership role like she’d just done. That she’d only done so now, with the weight of their lives bearing down on them, showed how much she cared, and Keaton wanted to support that.
“Agreed on the Cara thing, and is there an alternative route down that doesn’t involve the sewers?” she asked.
Packet thought on his words for a moment, and when he finally spoke again it was jittery and nervous as most of his sentences were. Lynn was, obviously, a bit unhinged. He did not want to be on the receiving end of whatever she could do. “C-Cara was a parahuman once. Like us.” He explained, speaking slowly so that his voice didn’t break again. “I’m a technopath and, well, when Cara died she made an AI so she could live on in a way. Cara thinks, and feels. Just like we do. She was designed to help people, but this station has altered her. Changed her in some way. She can’t say or do the things that we can anymore. She describes it as feeling drugged. So Cara can’t communicate with us directly. Certain thoughts she literally cannot articulate because she was so thoroughly changed, but me and people like me? We can feel her. I can feel exactly what she wants to say and how much she wants to help.”
Packet shook his head and crossed his arms, suddenly feeling a whole lot more confident than he had before now that he was defending his friend. “Honestly, Lynn? You’ve been pretty rough to her. You have
no idea how much she’s done to keep other parties off our trail, all to be called a “fucking toaster.”” He said, air quoting with his fingers. He seemed really bent out of shape, but whatever else he wanted to say he kept in, choosing instead to glare daggers in Lynn’s direction. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. “There’s no way that I know about that wont get you spotted. I can get you a collar though, and I can get Cara to unlock it once you’re past the door.”
Eli remained silent as everyone introduced themselves, but her eyes watched everyone with an almost nervous intensity. She had no doubt that Packet would accept all of them to be involved with the plan. Hell, maybe even the rest of the group would accept Packet for being the technowizard he was. What she was most nervous about, as Packet began to tell the others about the plan, was the ultimate invite to the Spire that the group wanted to give him. They all had a point. He would be more useful in the Spire with them, but then how could he focus on keeping the cameras down for that long? Could he open the door to the sewers from the inside? Maybe the Spire was like a mouse trap. Easy to get into, but impossible to escape.
Lynn’s interrogation wasn’t surprising at all. In fact, Eli was glad to have someone in the team that questioned everything. It made double checking sources and support much easier. She knew Packet could handle her questions, but his reluctance to speak about himself only made Eli doubt even further that he would ever step foot on the Spire with them.
Then she heard her name in the same sentence as Cara’s. She blinked, and she turned her head to look at Packet.
Cara… wants to help us? It made sense. It really did, but how did Cara bypass the Promise’s control of her AI to let Packet know? As much as Eli tried, she never got a clear answer from Cara like that.
Nic showed up to the meeting, but Eli was too busy waiting for Packet’s explanation. She didn’t have to wait long, though. Lynn asked the question for her, and Eli felt her scrutinizing eyes look her way. Eli shook her head to answer the question in Lynn’s head for her. She was genuinely as confused as Lynn about this. Her head turned to look at Keaton, then Archie, and then Nic. Were they all thinking the same thing? She glanced back at Keaton before Lynn made another good point. The sewer gas and a walking candle would not mix well.
Eli looked to Packet, and her eyes were concerned about his next answer. This meeting felt hostile all of a sudden, and she felt like the plan was slipping through her fingers. Even if there was an alternate route, was it safe enough? Would it give them the same amount of time to get into the Spire and back, and would Packet be safe on the outside? That is, if he remained on the outside. This meeting was already getting tense and they hadn’t even asked him the important question yet.
Fortunately for Eli, Packet still held his own. Even though he looked just as nervous as Eli felt, he managed to get the right words out. Stuttering at first, but eventually finding his voice again. Then he pulled off an act that shocked Eli’s anxiety out of her body. She felt as if the air stilled.
Did he just… call Lynn out on her shit? She stared at her techy friend for a few moments until she felt pride for him. Not only was Cara on their side because of him, but he was strong enough to stand up to Lynn like that. The collar comment was completely offensive and uncalled for, but he had a point.
Eli looked over at Lynn. Surely she was about to spew steam from her ears, but would she see his spite as strength? Would she realize that Packet was the right guy for the job, and that Eli really wasn’t leading her into a trap? She offered Lynn an apologetic smile, but shrugged at the same time. As much as she cared for Lynn, it was refreshing to see someone stand up to her.
“So… we just need to figure out how to get Lynn through the sewers, then?” She asked. Hopefully they could just move on without picking a fight. She faced Packet fully, and took a deep breath.
“I also have a question for you, Packet. Now that we understand Cara is willing to help us, I feel much more confident asking it.” She looked him in the eyes and her own expressed a cautious plea.
Ugh. Now the toaster had feelings. Jesus Christ, there was just always one more thing, now she had to go write an apology letter to the AI that probably, like, had logs of her when she was naked and stuff.
I should’ve known, Toasters are in the same family as Spoons. Lynn felt, again that sudden surge of irritation with Natalie followed just as quickly by remorse. Aside from calling the cops - which, Lynn would reiterate now and forever more, was a major snitch move - she actually hadn’t done anything to Lynn.
She did make me talk in the mall in that candle shop, Lynn thought, although she could respect the balls of someone trying to engage Lynn in a candlestore more as time passed, she supposed.
For an even briefer second, a little voice told her that, that first day, if she hadn’t said a word, if she hadn’t caught Natalie, she would’ve had her back broken and her skin scalded off, and then there would be no one to -
Lynn dug her nails into her arm and pushed the thoughts out of her head as best she could. They kept coming back in. “Okay, you know what, sure, if we find a six year old Cara chained up to a Macbook or whatever, I’ll eat crow. But this is a hard sell. This whole thing requires us putting a whole hell of a lot of trust in you, and a whole hell of a lot of trust in the computer you said the station can fuck around with. If Cara’s, you know, got a good heart all along or whatever, that’s fine, I’ll fuckin flip the collar off her when we go in too, but that doesn’t do us any good if she’s got a virus or something that seals off the air to the sewers as soon as we’re in there.”
Only this fucking virgin would take the computer’s side over a girl’s, Lynn thought, more irritated than outright furious. She could hardly get mad at Packet himself - firstly, they still needed his help, and even Lynn could bend her anger to pragmatism - but secondly, he was just young. He said dumb shit. In a different setting, Lynn might have been inclined to talk more shit, but there was still enough of her considering scaring him so bad he never answered Eli’s calls again, just to get him in the clear.
And Lynn wasn’t buying that this chick just voluntarily made herself into a computer program.
She still wanted to help the station, Lynn wanted to say, but she dug her teeth into her tongue until steam filled her mouth.
So how fuckin’ loyal to the paras is she? Lynn wanted to ask how many paras she’d helped kill or imprison and how that weighed against her little
feelings. Nothing she could do? If that was the case, Lynn would own up and say she was a victim too, and they could break the toaster free and she could go live on Mars. But Lynn didn’t buy it.
What’s more likely, she’s good deep-down, or she makes these technos feel smart, makes them feel like they can help her, and that’s how they suss out all these breakout plans before they start? As much as the idea held weight to her, it was of no use now. They were in too deep to try anything else.
The only choice left was whether or not she scared this kid away for his own good. But that wouldn’t do anything. Just give him a few more days. A few more hours. Then the next breakout, or attack, or whatever it was that Arianna bitch was up to. Lynn’s heart was pounding in her head and she wished she was in the gym in front of the bag and not in the woods, with everyone standing around like a bunch of limp dicks. Arianna’s presence nagged at the back of Lynn’s mind as well. They were - no, she - she was probably going to have to kill her, too. The idea of it didn’t bother Lynn terribly much - which itself bothered Lynn. There was another way to make sure Cara didn’t turn Judas on them, which was a lot more straightforward - someone holds a knife to Packet’s throat until they were all the way through the sewers. It was, Lynn knew, Che might’ve done. Off the table. Lynn would do the risky thing. Surely. She would. She didn’t kill kids. Not ever. She didn’t melt their shoes into their skin. Lynn rubbed at her eye, trying desperately to stop the itching.
“I mean, you get my fuckin, you know, hesitation and all. I have to be collared, or Amelia has to pull off a game of hopscotch like she’s never played, and we have to trust you - which, you know, you seem fine or whatever, but most people do until there’s a gun to their head - and then we trust Cara doesn’t do anything, or isn’t forced to do anything, I guess, since she’s apparently, like, chill now - while we go through a long dark tunnel full of literal ass. And I’m collared and hoping that someone unlocks it on the other side and no, you know, serial killing para monsters or security guards or anything is down there while it’s on.” Lynn turned to Denim. “Did I miss anything? I’m fine if this is, you know, a one way trip, but I’d rather not go out literally covered in Gennedy’s shit.” Lynn turned to Leotard, which was something she did not intend on doing again if she could help it. Given where he stood, she had to turn her whole body to look at him. “Did you find anything useful, or is this literally our best plan? Doesn’t this place have air vents or something like the movies? Shit, can’t Antenna Boy just figure out which guard is cheating on his wife and blackmail him? Or watch them punch their codes in or whatever? This sewer thing cannot be our best shot.”
Packet’s explanation of Cara made sense. It explained a lot of the inconsistencies in Cara’s actions, and why Keaton sometimes felt like she was talking to a person instead of a program. Best thing was, it checked out, and believing that Cara wasn’t some sort of double agent simultaneously trying to help and sabotage them—which was something her power couldn’t help her check—was a load off her back.
As he continued, though, his arms crossed and his voice taking on a tenor of confidence, Keaton was surprised by two things: that he’d whipped out some backbone to confront Lynn about Cara, who Lynn very clearly didn’t trust, and that he truly cared for Cara. Was she a friend, his only friend, or was she something more to him? Whatever it was, Keaton doubted Cara was programmed to get students that attached to her, so it was really none of her business. Cara being sentient and wanting to help was good enough for her.
Still, hearing him call Lynn out for calling Cara a “fucking toaster” brought a smile to her lips, though she forced it down quickly. Personally, she avoided confronting Lynn, if only because Lynn was easier to work with when not about to blow up or storm off in rage, but seeing someone else do it? It was hilarious. Maybe the stress had gotten to her, and maybe she needed to start considering ambien, but she was glad when Lynn again handled things calmly.
She shook her head when Lynn looked to her for confirmation because Lynn had covered all her bases—realistic and not. What she was asking now, though, wasn’t as helpful. Lynn’s wariness was expected and warranted, but if there was an easier way, the technomancer would’ve already suggested it.
“Any air vents on this ship would be industrial ones, and those are dangerous,” she said. “As for going through a main or side door, I’m going to assume that there’ll be too many cameras for that to work.” She looked to Packet for confirmation before continuing. “And even if it did, we have no power on this ship. Finding and contacting someone’s wife would be next to impossible with how much our internet access is restricted, and threatening to out him to Gennedy would be dumb in itself.”
She paused, wondering whether there was a better way to word what she was about to say, but she came up empty. The collar looked to be their best and most painless option.
“Would you be able to get us a modified collar? One that Lynn can take off herself, like with a release button or something,” she said, looking to Packet.
“I’m a tech specialist, not an engineer. I can't really… y’know, with hardware.” Packet explained, and then he turned to Lynn. “The real Cara died four years ago. The Cara we’re working with now is like a reflection in the mirror of who she was made to help parahumans feel less paranormal and more human. You won't find anything left of her up there.” He said, motioning towards The Spire’s general direction.
Lynn scowled, both from Packet’s response and the incessant itching in her eyes. Her hair flared crimson as the discussion went on.
So I have to be kind to a fucking ghost toaster, now, sure. Nothing left of her was fine by Lynn. One less thing to worry about when they burned this place to the ground. Still, a part of her was relieved, just as another part of her was livid, regarding the collar. Packet needed to stay near the shore and not go too far out and get in as deep as the rest of them had. “Alright, fine. Fuck it. We find a collar that I maybe can’t take off, and I wear it as we walk through the sewers trusting in a robot ghost.” Lynn shook her head, fuming (quite literally - a faint stream of smoke spiralled up from her head).
After this I swear no one will put a collar on me again, Lynn thought. They were cold. They were so fucking cold. The steel just hung around your neck, so tight you almost couldn’t breathe, and they never, ever got warm. They made you cold and small. They let someone grab you by the collar and slam you into the wall. The older girls had been strong enough, collared or not, to just lift her up against a wall, feet kicking out uselessly a foot over the ground. Lynn stared at the ground for a moment, remembering, but she couldn’t remember if she’d been pinned against a concrete wall in that fight, or the wall of a Chinese restaurant, and if they’d picked her up by the collar or if they’d just choked her. She shook her head, heart hammering and fingers dancing in her pocket.“I’m gonna go get food, if there’s nothing else to figure out here.” Lynn had been eating at every opportunity since she got out of the hospital, trying to put as many calories in her tank as she could before they stormed the Spire.
I need another jacket, too, she thought.
It’ll be cold.
Mixtape Ghost N
Qia
Estylwen
NoriWasHere
webboysurf
Marx
Lord Wraith
FernStone
Spoopy Scary
Festive