Timony peered around the alleyway and put up a hand to stop Oneida in her tracks. They were a couple of blocks from the Bazaar headquarters, and there were a lot of people on the sidewalk—this close, there was a good chance someone would recognize her.
“We can’t waste any time,” Oneida said.
“Let me do my job,” Timony responded.
“Isn’t that what got you into trouble?”
Timony wheeled around and stared down Oneida. A real-life alien. She still hadn’t fully turned that over in her head. The woman passed well enough for human, though upon closer inspection, she could see there were things that just seemed . . . off. Frankly, if Timony had been more on her game, more in practice, maybe she would have clocked it earlier.
“I’m the one Tobin trusted to find you,” Timony said.
Oneida rolled her eyes. “And what a wonderful job you’ve been doing. You’re welcome, by the way, for taking care of your Russian pursuer.”
Timony flashed back to the Russian’s body, dropped like a heavy sack, felled by an invisible projectile. The wound that soundlessly appeared and instantly cauterized. She’d never seen anything like it, and now she knew why.
Because it wasn’t of this world.
And she finally understood why it happened, too.
“You used me as bait, didn’t you?” Timony asked. “To draw him out. The whole thing with Carvajal was nonsense, too, wasn’t it?”
“I knew you were being followed by the Russian,” she said. “He planned to take you in, and not for a friendly chat. I figured killing him would scare them off whatever they were doing.”
Timony wheeled around and pushed Oneida up against the wall of the alleyway, putting her forearm across Oneida’s chest.
“I’m talking about Carvajal,” Timony said, her words sharp, the rage fueling her every word and movement. “You sent me to Carvajal. Made him seem like a lead. But he wasn’t. Then Carvajal killed my friend. Slade.”
Oneida fixed Timony with a hard stare. Something in Timony’s gut told her this was a mistake. She could feel the woman’s strength, but also her deference. She was tolerating Timony’s outburst, but only for so long.
“I made a mistake,” Oneida said. “Carvajal double-crossed me. He was more loyal to the Russians than I thought. I didn’t . . . it wasn’t supposed to happen that way,” Oneida said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“So instead of scaring them off, you agitated them.”
Oneida shook her head. “First, let go of me. Second, you had agitated them enough without any help from me. You two were poking into something too big and too dangerous. It would have gone down like that no matter what.”
Timony considered it. Oneida might be lying. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.
They had work to do.
She let Oneida go.
“Whatever you hit that Russian with, we could sure use now,” Timony said.
“It’s out of power,” Oneida said.
“Plus, you still got captured.”
“I let them capture me. I was hoping I would overhear something. When I realized I wouldn’t, I decided to leave. It just happened to coincide with you showing up. And I’m not even sure this is the best plan . . .”
Timony laughed. “What else can we do? The Mosaic is light-years away. We have to get a message to them. You have to let your people know you’re alive.”
“Why?”
Timony had seen a clearing in the sidewalk and was about to lead them out when Oneida’s words froze her in her tracks.
“What do you mean, Why?” Timony asked. “There’s a ship on the way to wipe out New Destiny.” She glanced at the dome over them. “If we go, there’s a couple of settlements and colonies out there, but they’re going to die off because they’re dependent on supplies manufactured here. New Destiny is the industrial hub for humanity. It would be the end of the human race. That’s why.”
Oneida just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “What makes you worth saving?”
“We, we . . .” Timony started, but her head was beginning to hurt. She didn’t have the time or the energy to engage in a philosophical debate about the general worthiness of humanity. “How about you save your own ass, then? You think you’ll survive a barrage from some alien warship?”
Oneida shrugged again. “It’s better to be alive than it is to be dead, but when I accepted this mission, I had to make peace with the fact that I might not be going home. Your kind doesn’t always warm to . . . pretty much anyone who looks the slightest bit different from you. And that’s just among your own. If I die in service of the Mutual, that’s not a bad death.” She offered a smirk. “Anyway, my people believe in a type of reincarnation that would take too long to explain. Ultimately, I’ll just end up where I’m supposed to be anyway.”
Great. An alien, and religious.
Timony straightened her spine and stuck a finger in the woman’s face. “There are good people here. There are children. There are people who still have a chance. A chance to . . .” She struggled to find the words. “A chance to be better. We may not be perfect, but we do get a little bit better with each generation. So, if you don’t want to do this for me, fine. You don’t want to do it for Tobin, okay. But you tell me you can look me in the eye and admit that spending your final moments watching innocent children being atomized is okay with you . . .”
“It would be over so quickly we wouldn’t actually see it . . .”
Timony instinctively flattened her hand to smack Oneida, who threw up her hands.
“Okay, okay,” Oneida said. “That I will give you. I don’t believe someone should be punished before they’ve had the opportunity to make mistakes. What is that concept in that silly little book you all kill each other over?” She snapped her fingers. “The Bible. Sins of the father.”
Timony exhaled. Fine, she thought. I can work with this.
She glanced at the sidewalk, and, finding it still clear, led Oneida down the block and around the corner to the entrance of the Bazaar. There was a guard posted outside. She ducked behind a newsstand before he could clock her, because he’d surely be looking for her.
They’d be covering the secret apartment entrance, too.
She considered her options, and they were few.
She could go to the guard and explain the situation—that if they didn’t get inside humanity was pretty much done for—and likely be met with a look of confusion, the business end of a blaster, and another blank room, where she’d sit and wait for whatever the Mutual had coming for them.
Or she could try and sneak them in, but the only other viable entrance was through the roof, and the Bazaar knew it was a weak point, so it was covered in sensors. Too many for her to contend with, and they’d be nabbed instantly.
The Russians got in, though.
That was weird. Despite the political power they wielded on New Destiny, they weren’t exactly team players. They kept a desk at headquarters and some nonsense files—Timony knew because she read them, which is probably what they assumed would happen. Other than coming in for the occasional meeting, they didn’t show their faces.
And that infiltration was definitely not a scheduled visit.
What did the one man say? Something about the basement?
Timony thought they had been down there looking for something. But maybe that’s how they got in.
She glanced down at the sewer grate on the ground at their feet.
And they had smelled like shit . . .
Ah.
“How strong are you, really?” Timony asked.
Oneida followed Timony’s gaze to the grate, then pulled up the side as if she were lifting a piece of cardboard. Timony shuddered a little. The grate would have been too heavy for her to budge. She made a mental note to speak a little more politely to Oneida.
Timony climbed down the access ladder, and Oneida followed, letting the grate drop above their heads with a clang, shrouding them in darkness.
[ASTERISM]
The stench was overwhelming.
Timony pulled her shirt up over her nose, but it didn’t help much. And worse, the going was slow. A river of sludge ran in a culvert next to them, while they navigated the twists and turns of the maintenance pathway above it. Timony had a good sense of direction and knew they’d be under the Bazaar headquarters soon.
It was a risk. This route could turn out to be nothing. Then they’d have to backtrack, and come up with a new plan, which would cost them time.
But as they walked, Timony came across scuff marks on the walkway that looked like they could be footprints.
“This is a little like that old movie,” Oneida said. “The Shawshank Redemption.”
“Never seen it,” Timony said, over her shoulder.
“It’s considered a classic Earth movie,” Oneida said. “I studied a lot of the films and television you produced in preparation for this.” A few moments passed in silence before she said, “You know who I like? David Bowie.”
“On that we can agree,” Timony said.
Oneida laughed. “How do I know more about your culture than you?”
Timony stopped. “First off, those are deep cuts, from way before I was born. Second, I never had to assimilate to my own culture. The reality of being human is we don’t have time to sit around and watch movies all day. For what it’s worth, the more you show off how much you know, the less people are going to like you, and the more you’re going to look like a plant.”
Oneida fell silent, and Timony took it as a small victory. She’d take her shots where she could get them.
At this point, the two of them were probably under the Bazaar building. In the gloom ahead, she could just barely make out an access ladder bolted into the wall. She led them to it and found more scuff marks on the floor. Like a couple of Russian men had stood there, and took turns climbing up, then made it back down in a hurry.
The Bazaar wouldn’t think anyone would willingly cross a river of shit.
And of course the Russians figured it would work.
Timony turned to Oneida, who was also pulling her shirt up over her nose. But when the woman saw the look on Timony’s face, she dropped it and met her gaze.
“I don’t think the office will be fully staffed right now,” Timony said. “They’re probably out looking for me, and probably don’t think I’m crazy enough to come back here. That said, maybe it’s packed. I don’t know. I do know we might have to fight. Which I will do—it’s what I signed up for. I’m not asking for that kind of commitment from you. But what I do need to know right now is: Do you have my back?”
Oneida tilted her head, like Timony was speaking in a foreign language. Then she looked at the ladder. “You really believe they’re worth it, don’t you?”
A speech formulated in Timony’s head. About why she became a spy, to protect the tenuous balance between average people and the powerful men and women who tried to use them as pawns in a game. That no matter how bleak things got, there were always ways to find joy. That she, too, had decided long ago that putting her life down for the greater good would be the best way she could ever hope to go.
But all those thoughts felt like she’d crafted them as part of another life. They swirled around until they became entangled and Timony suddenly felt nostalgic for the person she used to be.
She settled on the best possible answer she could give at this moment.
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
Oneida nodded. “Okay. I got your back.”
Timony laughed. “Just like that?”
Oneida nodded. Timony left space for her to respond, but she didn’t. Rather, they shared a look of understanding.
Oneida gets it, Timony thought. There are greater goods.
And sometimes that greater good can be as simple as hope.
Timony turned and began to climb, focused on the task at hand. Getting to the wire. Sending a message to the Mosaic.
And she was a little surprised to discover that she hoped it would be Carriles on the other end of the line.