Pawn Page 5

  And to Nicole’s amazement, the entire section of the wall came with him, a good twenty feet of it, swinging up like the side of a sandwich-vendor truck. Kahkitah swung the panel nearly all the way to the ceiling, then shifted his grip and pushed it the rest of the way up. He held it there while two of the men in the crew scurried to the ends of the panel and did something that seemed to fasten it in place.

  Kahkitah eased his hands away and stepped back again. Nicole watched the open panel another moment, just to make sure it wasn’t going to come crashing down, then focused on the open space behind it.

  It was a complicated-looking mess. There was a massive spiderweb of wires and tubes fastened to the back wall, along with dozens of oddly shaped boxes that ranged from cigarette-pack size all the way up to something bigger than the dish Nicole’s grandmother had used for their yearly Christmas turkey. The wires seemed to start at one of the boxes, most of them then traveling outward like spokes of a wheel and disappearing into the back wall. Over all the wires and tubes was a shiny coating, like the whole thing had been covered with plastic or varnish.

  “Okay, Sibyl, you’re up,” Carp said briskly, pulling out a pen and something that looked like a big cell phone from one of his pockets. He tapped the corner of the phone, then positioned the tip of the pen at the top. “Any time.”

  “Hold the inhaler vertically,” Allyce instructed, positioning the device in Nicole’s hand so that the squirt gun end was pointed toward her and the half-melted grip was going straight up. “Put the tip in your mouth, and as you squeeze the top take a quick, deep breath. It’ll shoot pretty hard into the back of your throat, so try not to gag on it.”

  Steeling herself, Nicole gave it a try.

  The first attempt didn’t work very well. She apparently didn’t squeeze the thing hard enough and all she got was a mouthful of a shockingly sweet powder. Carp snorted something under his breath, but the rest of the group merely stood and waited. Nicole tried again, and this time felt a strange coolness as the powder flew down her throat into her lungs. For a second she had to fight against the urge to cough, wondering if and when she would know if it had worked—

  The five-three-three circuit is broken.

  Nicole twitched violently. Without warning, the murmur in the background had suddenly become a single, utterly clear voice in her head. The six-seven-three circuit is broken—

  “Well?” Carp demanded.

  “The five-three-three circuit is broken,” Nicole said, trying to unfreeze her brain. With the silvery thing they’d glued to the side of her head, Plato’s and Kahkitah’s translated voices at least sounded like they were coming through her ears. The Fyrantha’s voice sounded like it was coming from three inches behind her eyes. “Also the six-seven-three circuit—”

  The three-one controller has incomplete output—

  “The three-one controller has incomplete output,” Nicole said, hoping desperately that she could keep up with the voice.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Carp said, writing furiously on the phone with his pen.

  “I’ve got it,” Levi said calmly, writing on his own phone. “Keep it coming, Nicole.”

  The five-five junction box is damaged—

  “The five-five junction box is damaged—”

  The six-eight-three-three ready fire symbol axe is damaged.

  Nicole frowned. The what? “The six-eight-three-three ready fire symbol axe is damaged,” she stammered. The words sounded as bizarre coming out of her mouth as they had coming into her brain.

  Apparently they did to everyone else, too. “The what?” Carp demanded.

  Nicole braced herself. “The six-eight—”

  “I got the numbers,” he interrupted. “What the hell was the rest of it? Ready fire symbol?”

  “She probably meant a rectifier simplex,” Levi said. “There’s one between those two dipple modulators on the left.”

  Carp snorted. “Oh, for the love of—”

  “Hey, take it easy,” Jeff spoke up. “These probably aren’t words she’s ever run into before.”

  “Even Kahkitah has trouble with them,” someone else added, “and he’s been hearing them for two years.”

  “Yeah, well, Kahkitah could hear them for twenty years without them sinking in,” Carp said acidly. “So is that it? Hey—Sibyl—look alive. Is that it?”

  “That’s all I heard.” Nicole looked at Allyce. “Unless the powder’s worn off. Should I try it again?”

  “No, it should still be active,” Allyce said, peering briefly into Nicole’s eyes. “If the voice has gone silent, it means that’s all the Fyrantha’s going to give you. For now.”

  Nicole felt her throat tighten. Up to now she’d managed to shove that particular bit of creepiness into the back of her mind. But with Allyce’s words, it had suddenly rushed back to the forefront.

  The ship was talking to her. A big, alien ship was talking to her. To her.

  “Okay, let’s get on it,” Carp said, digging into one of his vest pockets and pulling out a tool that looked like a combination socket wrench and screwdriver. “Tomas, figure out which of those junction boxes is the five-five. Levi, Jeff, tag the rest of the modules and start getting them off. The rest of you, find the circuits she listed and start peeling off the sealant.”

  “What do I do?” Nicole asked.

  “You stay out of the way and don’t touch anything,” Carp said as he headed to the wall.

  Kahkitah whistled another birdsong. “You may stay here by me,” he offered, sounding almost shy. “I won’t have other work until they need more heavy lifting to be done. I’d appreciate the company.”

  Nicole eyed him. Big, strong, but clearly not very bright. She’d known people like that, and they usually got nothing but abuse and contempt from everyone else around them. If Carp’s attitude was any indication, Kahkitah probably got a lot of the same here, too.

  Hanging out with someone like that would be excruciatingly boring, and it could damage her reputation with everyone else. Still, if her attempts to work Carp or Jeff went south, it might not hurt to have a little friendly muscle in reserve.

  “Thank you,” she said, stepping to Kahkitah’s side. She stood as close to him as she dared, trying not to wince at the odd look and texture of his hands and marble-studded arms. Figuring out this one’s hook, she thought distantly, would be a hell of a challenge.

  Nicole had seldom had the chance—or the inclination—to watch people while they worked at regular jobs. Now, as she and Kahkitah gazed at Carp’s team, she discovered that it was every bit as boring as she’d always suspected.

  They spent the first few minutes figuring out exactly which of the wires and boxes were the ones the voice had identified. Then Carp, Levi, and Tomas used various tools from their vest pockets to unfasten the boxes from the wall. While they did that, the rest of the crew set to work with flat-bladed knives, prying up parts of the plastic coating that sealed all the wires to the wall.

  It took almost an hour to get the boxes free and disconnected from the wires and tubes that came into and out of them. The plastic coating was pretty hard to remove, or maybe it was just hard to remove without damaging the stuff underneath. The men were still working on that part as Jeff and Levi settled themselves cross-legged on different sections of the floor and began taking apart the boxes, laying the pieces in neat rows or half circles around them.

  They were all still working at their various tasks when Carp called lunch.

  Nicole’s general boredom was interrupted for a couple of minutes as she passed out her collection of food bars and water. She rather expected the men to sit down together, or at least clump in twos or threes to chat while they ate, but to her surprise they all headed off in different directions, either going somewhere down their current hallway or else finding other hallways or open rooms. Apparently, they had enough togetherness during their work time.

  Which left Nicole and Kahkitah alone. Kahkitah had his own set of food bars, but he accepted
a bottle of water from her supply and settled down on the floor in a sort of half-kneeling, half-sitting position. Nicole sat down beside him, nibbling at her vaguely Tex-Mex-flavored food bar and wondering what Carp would say and do if she rearranged the positions of the pieces Jeff and Levi had so painstakingly laid out. Probably not a good idea.

  There was some more birdcall whistling. “Tell me about yourself, Nicole,” the translation came.

  “What?” she asked, frowning.

  More whistling. “Tell me about yourself,” Kahkitah repeated. “We’ve been told only your name. I want to know more.”

  Nicole snorted. “Why?”

  Still more whistling. Nicole tried to hear something recognizable in the sounds—familiar birdcalls from the city parks, or bits of music, or something—but it was never anything but meaningless trilling noise. “Because you are now part of our crew,” Kahkitah said. “As you have seen, you and I will usually have little to do. It would help pass the time if we could talk together while the others work. Unless your goal is to watch them and learn how to do the repairs yourself?” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

  A pretty stupid afterthought. But then, he wasn’t exactly the brains of the group. “Yeah, well, the first thing you need to know about me is that I couldn’t learn how to do the stuff they’re doing,” she said. “Not in a million years.”

  Kahkitah waited for the translation to end, then made some more birdcalls. “I didn’t know humans could live that long.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “It’s an expression,” she said. “It’s a way of saying I’m stupid.”

  Birdcalls—“That’s not true. Why do you speak untruths?”

  “Who says it’s not true?”

  More birdcalls—“I do. You’re a Sibyl. That means you’re smart.”

  “No, it means I’ve got a broken brain,” Nicole growled. “I already knew that.”

  Kahkitah was silent so long Nicole started to think he’d given up on the conversation. Then, he began trilling again.

  But this time, the sound was softer, as if he were trying to whisper. “I watched you, Nicole,” the translation came. “I watched you in the dining room, and as the others worked. You’re alert to things around you. That speaks of intelligence and foresight.”

  Nicole shook her head. “Just speaks of me trying to stay alive. Nothing more. It’s survival, not intelligence.”

  Birdcall—“I disagree. But even if you’re right, the Fyrantha is a new opportunity for you. Here, no one will be able to hurt you.”

  “No one was hurting me back home, either,” Nicole said. The words came out reflexively, as they had so many times before. They were mostly true. “That’s what all the watching and getting out of the way was for.”

  Birdcalls—“You speak of Bungie? Did he hurt you?”

  “I told you no one was hurting me,” Nicole insisted. “Bungie isn’t exactly the nicest guy on the block. But he never hurt me.”

  Birdcalls—“Do you wish protection against him?”

  “I told you, he never hurt me.”

  More birdcalls—“Do you wish protection against him?” Kahkitah repeated.

  For a long moment Nicole thought about getting up and walking away. Kahkitah was stupid, she was stupid, and this was a stupid conversation.

  But then she looked up into his eyes. Disturbing, alien eyes … and yet, somehow, his eyes and posture reminded her of an earnest, friendly dog.

  Nicole had always wanted a dog. Her grandmother had always said they couldn’t afford one. “Look,” she said, trying one last time. “Bungie’s an idiot—I’ll give you that. He’s also trouble. Been that way the whole time I’ve known him. But it’s not like I can walk away and never see him again. Not if Plato’s telling the truth about where we are.”

  Another pause, then more trilling. “But here you have choices,” Kahkitah said. “You may not be able to walk away. But you don’t have to remain close.”

  “We were never close,” Nicole said, grimacing at the very thought of hanging around Bungie on any kind of permanent basis. “And I’m not planning to start now. But I’ve got to get along with him, just like I have to get along with all the rest of you.”

  Kahkitah seemed to think about that. Then, he gave a three-toned whistle that sounded almost like a sigh. “There is an evil spirit within him,” he said. “He concerns me. You will let me know if he becomes a danger to you?”

  “You’ll be the first,” Nicole assured him. Well, it would be either him or Jeff, depending on whether she needed muscle or brains. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to eat.”

  Birdcall. “Of course.”

  The food bars were filling but small, and Nicole’s meal didn’t take very long. Even so, by the time she was finished Kahkitah had leaned his body backward at a painful-looking angle against the wall, closed his eyes, and gone to sleep.

  For a few minutes Nicole considered taking a walk and seeing what else might be around here. But everything looked alike, and she didn’t want to risk getting lost. Alternatively, she could hunt down Carp and get started finding his hook. But it might look suspicious if she moved on him this quickly.

  So with nothing better to do, she got up and went over for a closer look at the mess of wires and boxes on the wall.

  It was a tangle, all right. She’d seen that while the others worked. Kahkitah’s idea that she could ever learn how to fix stuff like this was completely ridiculous.

  Still, seen up close, it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. It was still a tangle, but the wires were different colors, as were the connector things on most of the boxes. The colors didn’t always match up, but they did so enough times to form a kind of pattern.

  She would still never figure out how to do this kind of work. But still, it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

  She was still studying the equipment, tracing the wires and tubes with her eyes just for the fun of it, when the rest of the crew began to drift back.

  The afternoon went about the same as the morning had. Levi and Jeff found whatever was wrong with the various boxes and replaced the parts from their kits. The others finally got the rest of the plastic peeled off, at which point replacing the wires was a quick and relatively easy task.

  They were midway through the replacement, and Nicole was listening to her stomach rumble and wondering what dinner would be like, when they had a pair of unexpected visitors. Unexpected and, for Nicole, at least, very much unwanted.

  Plato and Bungie.

  Plato made some comment in Greek as the two of them arrived. “How’s it going?” the translation came

  “Almost done,” Carp said, eyeing Bungie. “Maybe half an hour to replace the wires, then another half hour to reseal.”

  Plato spoke again. “So not much to see. Too bad. But that’s all right. Bungie can watch that part and at least see how you close down a job. He can learn the rest of your routine tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?” Carp asked suspiciously.

  Plato spoke—“I mean he’s on your team now.”

  “Lucky us,” Carp said, eyeing Bungie some more. “What exactly does he do?”

  Plato said something that sounded sarcastic. “What he does is work with your team. The specifics you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

  “No,” Carp said flatly. “Sorry, Plato, but no. I already got all the unskilled dead weight I can use.”

  Plato snorted and rattled off more Greek. “Well, then, you’d better train him quick,” the translation came. “Because he’s yours.”

  “Why?” Carp demanded, jabbing a finger at Nicole. “Because of her?”

  Plato shrugged and spoke. “Partly because of her. Mostly because I don’t have anywhere else to put him. Allyce and Sam say he’s healthy enough for light work and I can’t have him sitting around doing nothing.”

  “And you don’t care if my fix rate goes to hell?” Carp shot back.

  Plato replied—“Your fix rate’s going to be fine. You�
�ve already got the best of the bunch, which is another reason to give him to you. Sam tells me the streets of Philadelphia are violent. Bungie survived them, so he must be able to learn something.”

  Carp snorted. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not optimistic.”

  “Hey, bring it on, smart mouth.” Bungie jumped into the discussion. “Anything you can do, I can do.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be the day,” Carp said with a sniff.

  Plato waved a hand and said something cheerful-sounding. “Then it’s settled. Good. See you all back for dinner.” With a nod at Nicole, he turned and strode away.

  Carp watched him go. Then, abruptly, he spun back to face the others. “What are you looking at?” he snarled. “Back to work. Fishface, get the sealer over here.”

  Hastily, the other men resumed their work. Kahkitah twittered and headed to the big machine he’d brought from the supply closet and got a grip on the dragging loop. “Let me know when you’re ready,” the translation of his birdsong came.

  Bungie’s hand closed around Nicole’s arm. “You okay?” he asked quietly into her ear.

  Nicole winced at his touch. But Kahkitah was watching, and she didn’t want him thinking Bungie was hurting her. “I’m fine,” she said. “Where did Plato take you?”

  “Nowhere special,” he said. “Back to the hospital rooms. We went by a place he called the rec center, too. Kind of like the game room at Paco’s, but no pool table or pinball. You been here all day?”

  “Mostly,” Nicole said. “You and Sam looked like you were planning something. Are you?”

  “Who, me?” Bungie asked innocently. “I’m not planning anything.” He snorted softly. “At least, not till I figure out where Plato stashed my gun.”

  “Yeah.” Nicole braced herself. She really didn’t want to ask this. “Back before we came here, you said that you’d killed someone. Were you—I mean—?”

  “Remember Jerry?” Bungie asked, his voice eerily casual. “Said I cheated him on that liquor store thing?”

  A shiver ran up Nicole’s back. She’d heard about that deal. Bungie had cheated him. “Yes.”