Proxy (15 page)

Knox’s father exhaled loudly. He didn’t break eye contact with Marie’s father until the bald man had to look at his feet, just to escape the withering stare. Knox knew that stare well.

“The proxy will be located.” The Guardian stepped up to Knox’s father, diverting his attention. She did not flinch at his gaze. “We have teams conducting a thorough investigation.”

“Yeah, real thorough,” Knox whispered under his breath. Syd couldn’t believe his patron. He’d just learned that the whole accident had been a setup. A girl had died to try to teach Knox to behave himself, and still, he made sarcastic comments. Syd knew that the sooner he got away from this kid and his family, the safer he would be.

Knox’s father slid his glasses into his jacket pocket and he sighed. He hitched his pants and sat, gesturing for the others to join him. Marie’s father and Dr. Elavarthi sat. The Guardian remained standing.

“What about the friend?” Knox’s father asked. “Egan something or other.”

“We haven’t been able to locate him yet,” the Guardian said.

Syd exhaled with relief. At least Egan was safe. For now.

“You think the boy will make contact? Were they lovers?”

Knox shot Syd a questioning glance. What did his father mean, lovers?

Syd looked away.

Oh.
That.
At least it explained the kiss back in the club.

“We don’t think they were,” Dr. Elavarthi said. He brought up a holo of Egan’s face. He poked around, displaying all kinds of data. “Although we don’t have a lot of information on their childhoods, the proxy appears to have been interested in another East Coast orphan, Atticus Finch, a fellow student at Vocational High School IV.” He swiped his hand along the projection, zoomed in on an image of Atticus.

Syd looked down at the image and felt his shame double. It wasn’t a good picture. Atticus was much better looking in real life.

“We’ve questioned him,” said Dr. Elavarthi. “But the feelings were not mutual, to put it generously.”

“We are monitoring known meeting points for homosexual activity,” the Guardian added.

Blood rushed to Syd’s ears. His personal life, everyone he knew and everything he felt, was being discussed by these executives in an Upper City living room, like they had the right to know everything about him.

“And the Jew?” Knox’s father asked.

“He knows nothing.”

“I’d feel better if he were neutralized,” replied Knox’s father.

Neutralized. Had Syd’s escape put Mr. Baram in danger? He couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to Mr. Baram. How would all his children survive? Syd had to get back to the Valve. He had to warn him.

“They talking about that old man I saw in the shop?” Knox whispered.

It felt weird to know that Knox had seen inside the shop, had seen his workroom and Mr. Baram, even though they had only just met a few hours ago. The whole thing felt so lopsided. Syd hated knowing less than everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, and didn’t elaborate.

“He will be neutralized,” the Guardian confirmed.

“I have to go warn him.” Syd started to stand, to back away toward Knox’s room to get his shoes, when he heard Knox’s father burst out yelling.

“I cannot believe this is all you have! Some Chapter Eleven swampcat from a Valve sinkhole disables a whole platoon of Arak9 sentries, locates my son, abducts him, and you have nothing?” He pointed an accusing finger at Dr. Elavarthi. “You did not see any of this coming? Not a clue?”

“Our predictive behavior model is not a perfect program,” Dr. Elavarthi explained. “We know his brand of shoes, how he takes his noodles, but our predictions are inaccurate with a profile as erratic as this proxy’s. He took great efforts to buy as little as possible and to reveal even less. We have had only a few hours to analyze it, but none of our data suggest that he is any kind of threat. He’s not a killer. He does not appear to be political.”

“The explosion at our facility?” Knox’s father asked.

“A crime of opportunity,” said the Guardian. “The Rebooters have, however, already claimed responsibility.”

“But the proxy has no connection to them,” Dr. Elavarthi was quick to add.

“And yet you have seen the blood tests,” Knox’s father snapped. “You have seen the mark behind his ear.”

Syd’s fingers went to the mark. What could that have to do with anything? What could his blood tests have shown them? He slunk back down again to see. It’s not like he could get out to warn Mr. Baram right now anyway. The old man could take care of himself. He had spies everywhere in the Valve. And that big fracture cannon. He’d get away. Surely, he’d get away.

Syd needed to know about his blood. What was wrong with his blood?

The doctor brought up a new holo, an image of Syd hanging by his wrists just after his punishment, his chin against his chest. He couldn’t believe how broken he looked. He’d never seen himself like that. He looked over at Knox. This was what his patron saw.

“The blood is a concern,” said Dr. Elavarthi.

“What is wrong with your blood?” Knox whispered, urgency in his voice. At first Syd wondered at his patron’s new worry for his well-being, but then he saw Knox rubbing his arm. The transfusion. They had taken Syd’s blood to give to Knox. His patron was worried about himself. Of course.

Syd shook his head and didn’t answer; he focused down below.

“This is more than a concern,” Marie’s father said. “I cannot believe you had him as your son’s proxy all these years and didn’t know.”

“We never took his blood before,” said Knox’s father. “Anyway, the virus takes time to develop.”

“Virus?” Knox said. He felt the blood drain from his face. He’d been infected with some proxy virus. Was it fatal? Was it painful? Was this his punishment for Marie’s death?

Syd pressed his fingers into the thick carpet. He felt suddenly itchy and at the same time, numb. A virus. As if his whole life had not been punishment enough, now, just as he was about to escape, he was sick. It wasn’t fair.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Knox’s father said with the confidence of a man who was used to giving commands and having them obeyed. “We’ll issue an alert for Sydney Carton, offer a reward. They need only know he is an escaped proxy who has kidnapped his patron.”

“And the nurse?” Marie’s father asked. “She saw the blood results.”

“She is taken care of.”

Knox shuddered. He wanted to believe that “taken care of” meant “paid off,” but he knew better. Nurse Bovary hadn’t resigned at all. His father could make people vanish with a snap of his fingers.

“Don’t you think the news of an escaped proxy will embolden the Rebooters?” Marie’s father asked. “It’s just the kind of thing they could rally around. Even if we caught him, even without the knowledge of this virus, they’d make breaking him out of Sterling a priority just to send a message.”

“They will not have the chance,” said Knox’s father. “We cannot have him falling into the Rebooters’ hands. We’ll make our offer clear. Dead or alive. Most firms will choose dead. Cheaper to haul a body than a prisoner. And if they bring him alive, then we’ll kill him ourselves.”

“Kill me.” The words escaped Syd’s lips on their own. They didn’t just want to catch him because he was Knox’s proxy. They didn’t just want to catch him because he’d kidnapped Knox. They wanted him dead before the Rebooters got him.

But why?

He was nobody. Just like Knox’s father said, some Chapter 11 swampcat from a Valve sinkhole who knows no one and who no one knows. He couldn’t possibly matter enough to kill.

“I agree,” said Marie’s father. “Better for everyone if he just goes away.” He rubbed his chin. “Then no one can blame you for missing the signs to begin with.”

“Remember your tone,” Knox’s father warned. “And you.” He turned to the Guardian. “Make the arrangements. I want everyone after this kid. Spare no expense. He must be neutralized.”

The Guardian brought up a holo of her own, swiped around in it a moment, and then tossed it aside. She nodded.

Syd shuddered. That was what a death sentence looked like. A few taps on a projection, some data transmits, and he’s dead.

He was trembling. He knew he was trembling. Knox looked over at him, biting his lip. Syd looked back, eyes wide. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know anything. He needed help. He just wanted somebody to help him, to fix things, to make all this go away.

“I’m—” Knox whispered, but he didn’t know what to say either. There was too much going on. How could he help anyone else with his life when his own was spinning out of control? His father had set him up to kill a girl, had exposed him to some kind of tainted blood. Now he wanted to kill his proxy. All Knox had ever wanted was a good time. How could it have gone so bad so quickly?

“You will not kill that proxy!” a new voice—a female voice—shouted, bursting into the room below. Knox and Syd snapped their attention back down. The three men jumped to their feet, a reflex from years of conditioning for what to do when a woman entered the room. In spite of their manners, they did not look pleased to see her.

The boys couldn’t see who was speaking; she was standing underneath the overhang where they were hiding, but all eyes in the room turned toward her, even the Guardian’s.

“You were supposed to wait in the transport,” Mr. Alvarez said.

“You’ll have to excuse me if cars make me uncomfortable,” the voice replied as she stepped all the way into the room.

Syd could only see the back of her head. Long dark hair, black with a hint of color. When she turned to look at Knox’s father, Syd saw the radiance of her eyes, a bright movie-star purple. She looked like a teenager. Syd wondered what a rich teenager was doing at a late-night meeting. Who could she be? And why was she trying to save his life?

He got the answer to the first question when Knox slumped backward against the wall, his face pale as smoke.

“No way,” Knox whispered. He hung his hands on the back of his neck and drew his knees up to his chest, rocking gently. “No way no way no way,” he muttered. He looked up at Syd with childish terror in his eyes. “She’s alive. How is Marie alive?”

[21]

KNOX NEEDED A MINUTE to think. The crash was no accident. His father had wanted him to steal the CX-30. They knew he couldn’t resist. His father had set him up just to teach him a lesson, even though it could have killed him.

Knox’s head felt hot, a pulsing headache starting behind his left eye.

Marie was alive and his father knew it. Her father knew it. Even that quack predictive-marketing analyst from his father’s company knew it. Why would they have let him crash like that? Knox thought Marie had
died.
They let him think he was a killer.

If his mother were still alive, she would never have let this happen. Knox would be up in his room right now, listening to music, chilling with Simi and Nine and doing whatever. She’d never have let him take the CX-30 for a joyride. She’d have paid attention.

He felt his lip quivering. Tears. Just like a little snot nose, crying. He bit his lip as hard as he could and fought them back. Self-pity wouldn’t help him now. He could feel bad for himself later. Right now, he needed to focus.

Beside him, Syd rubbed his hand over his forearm. He could feel the letters beneath his sleeve, the name embedded in his skin. They’d known the girl wasn’t dead, but they’d branded him anyway. They’d known the girl wasn’t dead, but they still wanted to kill him. Syd’s head spun. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Marie!” The girl’s father was lecturing her down below. “Show some respect. You’re in Mr. Brindle’s home.”

“It’s all right,” Knox’s father said, which struck Knox as an added insult. If he ever talked to his father the way she had, Syd would have gotten a few shocks just out of spite. “She’s been through a lot,” his father added.

“Yes, she has.” Her father spoke for her, but without warmth in his tone.

“And it was my choice,” Marie interrupted. “So I don’t need to be talked down to.”

“I am still your father,” her father said. “And you owe me some manners.”

“I owe you, huh?” Marie laughed. “I think it works the other way around, Dad. I’m the one who died for you.”

That tone of hers, that sarcastic tone that didn’t quite cover her fear, brought back a memory. The car and her laugh and her thigh. Some banter.

Did she know then what was about to happen? Was she setting up Knox with every nervous laugh? Did she jerk the wheel? How did she know that she’d come through the accident alive?

“Behave yourself,” her father scolded. “If not out of respect for me, do it for Beatrice’s sake.”

The girl’s body tensed. She moved her mouth a few times like one of those Japanese fish in the aquarium, but no sound came out. She looked away from her father. He nodded.

“Now you understand? Responsibility. It’s not always fun, is it?” He pointed to the door. “Go back to the transport to wait.”

“I can’t let you kill that proxy,” she said.

“You’ve done your part, Marie,” Knox’s father said, his voice still gentle in a way that stabbed Knox straight through the heart. He had never heard it before. “I appreciate what you did to help, but now you are done. You should focus your worry on your own proxy.”

“No.” She crossed her arms. Knox tensed. His father did not abide defiance. He found himself licking his lips, almost eager to see what his dad would do.

“Marie.” Her father rested his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t understand what’s happening here. It’s for your own good that Knox’s proxy be eliminated. They aren’t all poor, suffering innocents. Some of them are dangerous. You have to be realistic.”

“I wouldn’t let you hurt Beatrice, and I won’t let you hurt Knox’s proxy either.” She sat on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table.

Knox’s father slapped them off, hard, and glared at Marie’s father, daring him to object. “You won’t
let
us?” He leaned over her. “Listen to me, girl. With one swipe of my hand, I can have Beatrice hauled out of bed in that ratty orphanage and executed before your eyes. If it will protect my clients or my son, I can and I will do it. My loyalties do not lie with some teenage brat or her silly causes. I humored you because you were helpful in a private matter. That matter is complete and no longer concerns you. If you interfere . . . well . . .”