The Unseen (19 page)

I just printed this shirt!
The giant front doors opened and some hacker, whom Kari recognized but had never formally met, walked into Valhalla. Kari wiped the mango off of her shirt, which left her hands wet and sticky. A second later, the waiter boy was handing her a washcloth to clean herself with. She thanked him and wiped her hands down and then tried to rub the mango stain out of her shirt. She was wearing the same top she typically wore—a loose shirt with quotes from her favorite movies and shows sprawled across it. Many of the quotes came from science fiction and superhero movies that were older than her parents.
Superheroes. They always fought.

They never stopped to show the civilian casualties in those movies, though. But what if they did? The superheroes were doing the right thing, and it would have been worse if they didn’t fight. They didn’t choose to fight, but they were forced to. Henderson put me in a situation where not fighting was worse than fighting. Now Joseth has done the same. Just because I have to fight doesn’t make me a fighter
.

Kari handed the washcloth back to the waiter and thanked him for his help.
Joseth might be able to out-hack me and keep me a prisoner forever, but when I’m finished, the whole world will have seen the Unseen.

“And there’s Freelancer, right where we left her,” Motorcad said. SeptemberMist and Motorcad sat down in a pair of nearby seats. Kari had tried to blow them off for the past few days as she recovered from her crash, and now they simply sat in the chairs next to her and ignored her attempts to be left alone
.

Most the days were passed in silence as they worked on their various projects, but they had been stubborn about staying close to her. Motorcad had told her about twenty times how excited he was to try the drones he could “ride like a freaking flying horse” once she was feeling better. The official story for her injuries was that she had been experimenting with a new drone, and it didn’t go well. It was mostly the truth.

“And I thought you two were never going to get up,” Kari said.

“That almost sounds like you want to see us,” SeptemberMist said. “But don’t worry, I’ve already told Motorcad not to bug you about playing a game today. It’s taken some convincing, but I think he finally gets that it’s not your style.”

“Actually,” Kari said. “I was hoping to play something this morning.”

“I didn’t even know this room existed,” SeptemberMist said.

“I think I walked in here by accident a few months ago,” Motorcad said. “But it scared me, so I left.”

“I had to ask around,” Kari said. “But eventually someone told me something like this already existed.” Most of the workrooms were just comfortable locations with various printers and silence, but this one was different. It was well lit and filled to the brim with different parts and components to assemble small robotics by hand. Apparently there were several hackers who specialized in physical design from spare parts or at least enjoyed it as a hobby, but Kari had never met them.

“So what’s the game?” SeptemberMist said. She sounded much less confident than usual. That didn’t surprise Kari; she was a specialist in a much less technical field of hacking. Many hackers felt comfortable writing code, but they were intimidated when it came to using their hands.
It’s a different ballgame.

“We build robots and have them compete in a challenge,” Kari said. “Pretty straightforward.”

“What challenge?” SeptemberMist asked.

“Smashing each other!” Motorcad said. His voice was equal part boyish excitement at the thought of destruction and obvious mockery.

“We could do that,” Kari said. “Or we could have them race to somewhere on the grounds. Maybe over to the gazebo that’s behind the basement?”

“Done,” SeptemberMist said. “How long do we have?”

“Um . . .” Kari wasn’t sure how much time would be necessary. “Thirty minutes?”

“I only need twenty-five,” Motorcad said confidently. “But Misty might need forty-five, so maybe we should extend the time just to be considerate.”

“My hero,” SeptemberMist said.

“OK, time starts now,” Kari said. She set a timer via her mind chip with a quick thought and then got to work. She rushed forward and strategically took a seat at the work counter between SeptemberMist and Motorcad. She panned over the piles of gears and metal, and picked out pieces she thought might work well together. A pile of motors and rotors formed in front of her, but she continued to look for the most important piece.

There it is!
Kari grabbed a programmable control panel from across the desk where it had been sitting in front of Motorcad and connected to it with her mind chip. It had a rudimentary interface, but it was exactly what Kari was looking for. She programmed it to display a single message when someone connected to it, and then passed it to Motorcad.

“Let’s talk.”

Motorcad ignored it at first. But after several times of Kari nudging it closer to him without saying anything, he finally got the picture. SeptemberMist was making a number of loud grunts out of frustration as she worked next to Kari.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Misty,” Motorcad said. SeptemberMist growled in response, apparently too focused to reply with her normal witticisms. Motorcad slid the control board slyly back to Kari.

“Don’t trust Mist. Don’t trust Oedipus.”

Sparks burst from Kari’s little robot with a pop as she used a tiny welding torch on a few of the joints. She had expected it, so it didn’t cause her to flinch, but SeptemberMist just about fell out of her chair.

“Ah!” SeptemberMist screamed. “This is making Motorcad’s stupid auto-cycle game look amazing by comparison.”

 “That’s quite the compliment, Freelancer,” Motorcad said.

“Sorry—you can pick next time,” Kari said. The room lacked the usual amount of trash talk, as everyone was focused on trying to get something workable finished in the limited time frame. Motorcad and Kari successfully passed the board back and forth infrequently between tasks without SeptemberMist noticing.

“Too late.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Of course. I already tried to get out of here once.”

“You look like you’re close with Oedipus.

“No. He’s crazy.”

“Need to play more often.”

Motorcad’s obnoxious requests to constantly play games now made complete sense to her.
Stupid girl! He has been trying to communicate with you, and for some reason you didn’t pick up on that. Joseth monitors everything, and Mist is always around. He’s been trying to talk to me securely, but I just wasn’t listening.

“OK. How do we leave?”
Kari asked.

“We don’t. Hermes tried.”

Trying to connect odd parts together into something that functioned was more difficult than Kari had estimated. She had assembled things before, but projects were predesigned to fit together perfectly. This was nothing like that, and Kari feared that she wouldn’t have anything finished in time. The challenge invigorated her, but she couldn’t commit to it as fully as she wanted as she continued to hold the secure conversation with Motorcad.

“And?”

“No more Hermes.”

Hearing that Joseth had killed one of their fellow hackers hurt. Hermes had been kind the one time she had interacted with him, and it was hard to think about him being gunned down for trying to win his freedom back. She had spent a lot time debating the merits of Joseth’s proposal. In many ways he would be doing so much good for the world, but things like this convinced her that he only offered a false hope.
He’s a killer, and killers should never be in charge. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me down yet.

“We have to stop him.”

“Unlikely.”

“How much time?” Motorcad said out loud.

“You didn’t set your own timer?” SeptemberMist said. “Typical.”

“Five minutes,” Kari said. Between their secret conversation and trying to assemble a small robot by hand, the time had evaporated faster than Kari had wanted.

“I have a plan to leave. Need help.”

“Don’t get me killed.”

“Just follow future instructions, and I might not.”

“Time!” Kari announced to her friends after passing her final message back to Motorcad. He acted surprised and knocked the control board they had been using to pass messages on the ground and stepped on it with his foot.
Smart, can’t leave any trails.

“Perfect. I’ve been finished for about half an hour now,” Motorcad said.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” SeptemberMist said. It lacked her usual mirth, but she was happier now that she didn’t have to work with her hands any longer.
So why doesn’t Motorcad trust you, Misty, when he acts like he’s your best friend?

“OK, let’s do this. Set your robots on the ground, and I’ll give the mark.” Kari lifted her creation from the table and activated it. It was bizarre looking. It was a mess of small tires on the ends of spokes that together formed a giant wheel. She wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, but she wanted to see it work.
A bunch of small tires that together form a bigger tire. It’s cute.

Motorcad’s creation looked like a tiny human-shaped robot. When he set it down, it immediately fell over, which caused SeptemberMist to cheer. The final competitor was a tiny auto-auto. It wasn’t creative, but it looked more capable of moving than Motorcad’s did.

“On your marks, get set . . .” Kari paused for dramatic affect. “Go!”

It was the most anticlimactic race she ever witnessed. Her wheel of tires spun forward nicely before running into the closed door. Motorcad’s robotic human made it three steps before falling over, and SeptemberMist’s miniature auto-auto drove around in circles.

“Behold the mighty Unseen!” Motorcad announced with an infinite amount of bravado. Kari felt weak with laughter, and SeptemberMist clapped her hands as she struggled to breathe. “The greatest hackers in the world, who can conquer any security system—as long as it doesn’t have a door!”

“All right, so maybe this is why we have modern printers and design software. And less than an hour’s time to build something from scratch might have been a little ambitious . . .”

“It was perfect!” Motorcad said. “I won, and I got to watch Misty lose it trying to build a little car. Great game.”

“You won?” Kari asked.

“Of course. My little robot realized that the door was closed, and thus that it was futile, and resigned. He voluntarily decided to take a nap to conserve his energy for another day by lying down. These other two atrocities are too dim-witted to know when to stop. That’s a win.”

“We all lost,” SeptemberMist said. “Just accept it.”

“Never!”

“Sorry, guys,” Kari said as she stopped her little wheel from spinning in place, trapped against the door. “I should have remembered to open the door.”

“Don’t worry about it,” SeptemberMist said. “It was a merciful resolution. But, I have to say, after this disaster of a game, you don’t get to pick what we play for a long time.”

It was actually a successful game, if you ask me. I’m not doing this completely alone anymore. Now I just need to figure out what instructions to give Motorcad. And how to give those instructions to him without getting us both killed. But it’s a start
. . .
if I can trust him.

“Thank you for joining me this evening,” Joseth said. A worker dressed in a tuxedo had arrived several hours ago and had delivered specific instructions for dinner. Kari was supposed to wear a dress and meet him down in the great room at seven o’clock. At first, she’d decided to ignore him, but then reconsidered.

She imagined she was already on thin ice with him. Enduring a dinner date with Joseth was better than getting taken behind the garage and shot. The worst part about it was that it prevented her from working on her plan.

“You’re welcome.” It wasn’t eloquent, but it was nicer than the thirty or so other things she would have rather have said.

“What do you think of the setting?”

“It’s nice,” Kari said. That was an understatement. One of the covered glass gazebos outside was decked out with candles and flowers. An ancient record player rested in the corner beside an ice statue. It was gorgeous and upsetting.
I know what paid for all of this. Extravagance doesn’t seem fair when so many are suffering. But then again, it’s probably a better use of money than blowing it up in a pointless fight
. . .

A pair of waiters brought over a glass of champagne for each of them.

“To the Unseen,” Joseth said, raising his glass. Kari didn’t raise hers, which caused Joseth to raise his eyebrows disapprovingly. He waited a minute before taking a drink. Kari set her glass down, and they both listened to the golden oldies from the record player while appetizers were set on the table. The setting wasn’t natural for either of them, but Joseth seemed insistent on trying to pretend he was comfortable.

“Do you know the best thing about being blind?” Joseth said. When Kari didn’t respond, Joseth continued. “It’s the fact that I now see better than everyone else. You see, everyone on the planet has a blind spot, a couple of points in their vision that they can’t actually see. The brain, however, doesn’t leave a little black mark; instead it just fills it in so no one knows it’s even there. But it doesn’t change the fact that despite how well everyone believes they can see, they are partially blind.”

“Fascinating.” Kari tried to strike a delicate balance of sarcasm, boredom, and apathy in her voice while not making it too offensive. It was a difficult combination, but she was pleased with the results. Joseth ignored her efforts.

“So, in a way, I’m the only one here who isn’t blind. In a great reversal of fates, I see everything, while everyone else merely thinks they have perfect vision.”

“Yet somehow we’ve all managed to survive this long.”

“Blind spots are what make us vulnerable,” Joseth said. He seemed content to carry on a completely one-sided conversation. “That’s how I hack things. I study them, evaluate them. I learn what their blind spot is, and then I exploit it. In an instant they are undone, and they don’t know how it happened because their brain has tricked them into thinking they can see where they cannot.”