“I see you found the Wobble factory.”
“We did.” He considered staying silent, but this wasn’t about looking cool or establishing some kind of status. He wasn’t going to beat her at that. He was just thankful she was alone.
She let her gaze wander. “We looked for this for over thirty years. I’d started to think that maybe the gearbox destroyed it all. We never came close to finding it. Of course,” she added, pursing her lips, “we never had help.”
The ground trembled. Now, that was her style. “Betty—” he started to say.
“Don’t.” She popped an arm. “I don’t care. How it happened, what your excuse is, don’t care.”
She didn’t sound like she didn’t care. Her whole body was tense, her pink stripe so tight Johnny expected it to hum like the barbed wires sometimes did on Tunnel. “Your little ally is still fighting the good fight,” she continued, “but it’s only a matter of time. He’s going to lose. I’m finally going to vape that jackhole.”
“And you really think that’s going to help?”
She ignored the question, swinging an eye back to the corridor from which she’d come, then back again. “Neat trick keeping me from bringing any friends of my own. Seem to be missing a few other tools as well. It’s been awhile since I felt like this.”
It’s been three months, Johnny thought. That was it: three months. Sure they’d all changed, but did she honestly think it had been that long? She’d been alive for fifty years, for Crisp’s sake.
“Where’s the gang?” Betty said, her trail-eye wandering but the front two staying on Johnny. “Where’s Wobble?”
His heartbeat spiked and he fought to control the wave of anxiety that rushed through him. He needed to stay calm. As casually as he could, he said, “They’re around.”
She laughed at that. “Priceless. Still Johnny Drop.” She inched forward a tread. “You think you’re important. You think you still matter. Why? Because you saved the Skidsphere? That’s nothing. It’s a drop. Do you have any idea how insignificant the sphere is?”
He stared at her. “You used to think it was significant.”
“That was before I started fighting a war.” The ground rumbled again.
She was doing it deliberately. Except, if the ground was shaking, then that was the Thread taking damage. She was damaging the Thread just to make a point.
“I’m more impressed that you found this place,” she said. “Now, I don’t know what you’re doing to mess with my scans, but where are the others? Where is Wobble?”
Her scans weren’t working? He was pretty sure they didn’t have anything to do with that. Still, it was a good question—where was everyone now? On a whim, Johnny opened his private com to Shabaz, praying it wasn’t a mistake. Betty might be lying about her scans being down. He found Shabaz on the third floor, moving—he had no idea if that was a good sign.
“You know, I’m not a real fan of being ignored,” Betty said. “Or have you just gotten that slow?”
Something in Johnny snapped a bit. Maybe she was his idol, maybe she could destroy him, and maybe he had gotten slow compared to her, but this was grease. Inching forward, he said, “You know, for someone who thinks she’s so vaping fast, you’ve spent an awful lot of time in the last two conversations we’ve had trying to put everyone else down. Afraid of something, Betty?”
A cruel smile split her lips. “Really? You think I’m afraid of you?”
“I’m just trying to understand why you’re talking this way.”
“I am fighting—”
“A war,” Johnny said, inching forward again. “Got that. Why? Why are you fighting everyone, Betty? Aren’t the Vies the enemy? Isn’t fixing what’s broken the goal?” He popped an arm and waved it around. “Who cares how we found the factory—isn’t the important thing that we found it? That we get it up and running? Why won’t you help us? SecCore helped us, for Corps’ sake, why won’t you?” A surge of anger and loss came welling up from deep inside. “Why would you kill Albert like that?”
For a second, he thought maybe he’d gotten through to her. Regret flashed across her face, a deep mournful sense of shame. She had to see it, didn’t she? She was Betty, surely she had to see? But then the look went away, replaced by a pensive gaze.
“Why don’t you have it up and running?” she murmured.
His heart fell. She couldn’t see it. She wasn’t even thinking like that anymore. He remembered the time in Krugar’s sim, when she had Wobble vape one of the mems there, and Albert, furious, saying they weren’t going to do that anymore, even if the mem would get resurrected later. That was the Betty that was here. Krugar had spoken about what thinking big could do to you in the wrong situation, and here was proof: Betty could no longer see the small picture. She was lost in her grand vision. That, and her hatred for SecCore.
One of the eyes focused on Johnny swung, and she spoke as if she were alone in the hub. “I’m not Wobble, but I’ve been around and this doesn’t feel like a place gearing up. The lights are on, but that’s it.” Her eye stopped. “That’s it . . .” The eye came back to Johnny. “That’s why you’re out here. Stalling. You don’t have Wobble for some reason. Where is he?”
She rolled towards one of the corridors. As it happened, it was the one that had Wobble’s repair chamber. “Hey!” Johnny shouted.
“You don’t matter, Johnny,” she said, still rolling. “All your little friends went and hid and they thought you could keep me from finding Wobble. Nice try.”
If she hadn’t done what she’d done to Albert, he might have let her find him. After all, Wobble had been her best friend for almost forty years. It was inconceivable that she would do anything to harm the machine.
But what she’d done to Albert was also inconceivable.
“Hey!” he yelled again, as he quietly opened his com to Shabaz. Babe, this is going downhill fast. Are you guys ready? Betty still didn’t turn.
A brief pause, then Shabaz replied, Krugar says we need another minute.
Well, we don’t have one. Whatever’s going to happen, it’s got to be now. “Hey!” he yelled a third time. “You know how everyone says your name?”
Betty rolled another few metres . . . then stopped. Another pause, then her trail-eye settled on him. “All right, I’ll bite. Yes, Johnny?”
He couldn’t help it. She was probably going to kill them all and the whole thing was so tragic he could scream, but he was still who he was and he had her. “Johnny Drop,” he said, in the cockiest voice he could, the one he knew used to drive Albert spare. “That’s my name. And in another ten years, hole, maybe five, that’s the name they’ll be saying. Not yours. Mine. They won’t be saying your name at all.” And then, because if there was one thing he knew how to do was get under another skid’s skin, he pulled out Torres’s light-swords, ignited them, and added, “Or if they do, they’ll think of you the way you think of SecCore.”
Rage flared across her trail-eye and then the upper-eye swung his way, as she turned on her treads. “Oh, this is going to be rich. I’m fighting on more fronts than you could imagine, but I can find time for this. You think because you’ve got the panzer’s toy you can take me? Please.” She popped both her Hasty-Arms and a sword ignited in each, pink like her stripe. “You couldn’t take me on your best—”
The rocket came from above, and she had her upper-eye on Johnny so she never saw it coming. She screamed with fury as a smoke bomb followed.
Time to go, Johnny. The corridor on your forty-five. He didn’t even wait to see how much damage they’d caused. He gunned it for the corridor.
First lift left, Shabaz continued. Dillac and Kesi are waiting on the second level, get off on three.
Behind him, he heard a roar and saw Betty emerge from the smoke, spot him, and pursue. He found the lift and the circle of force flung him upwards. He passed the second floor cleanly, and zipped out at the third. As Betty passed the second floor, the area around the updraft exploded. She screamed again, as the lift’s force carried her up past Johnny.
“Not so much legend, boz!” Dillac howled from below.
But now Betty was one level up and Johnny had to keep her attention focused on him. He found another lift and zipped upward, as a roar came down the hall to his left. “Hey!” he yelled, and was rewarded as a black and pink shape, slightly battered, came around the corner. “Eyes on the prize.”
He wasn’t sure how much damage she’d taken, but she did look pissed. They couldn’t kill her, Johnny was pretty sure of that. After all, most of her was still in the Core fighting SecCore. But maybe, just maybe, they could hurt her enough that she’d lose what she had here, make it so she couldn’t come back to the factory.
Johnny, come straight on and take the third right.
He took off, keeping an eye on Betty to make sure she followed. Bouncing off the walls to gain speed, he careened around the corner Shabaz had indicated with Betty right on his treads. She didn’t need to bounce off anything.
She was reaching for Johnny when the mine behind him caught her. Johnny caught a flash of white and red pulling away, Onna in retreat. Betty screamed incoherently—the ground trembled—but she emerged from the blast and smoke, her expression angry and set. “You think this is doing anything? I’ll vape you all!”
He hated this. Not because his life was in danger, not even because it was his hero who was trying to kill him. He hated it because he still didn’t even know why he was racing away from her, what they were going to accomplish, how they had gotten here. For the next five minutes, he streaked through the factory—up levels, down levels, back and forth—barely ahead of Betty, and only because at this corner or that a blast would knock her back, slowing her down.
And why? What were they going to accomplish? Was Wobble suddenly going to show up and—what?—talk her down? Vape his oldest friend? The blasts Betty took might be slowing her down momentarily, but there was no sign of her stopping, no sign of any real damage. And even if they could hurt her, even if Wobble showed up and they somehow kicked her out of the factory and sent her back to the Core and got the factory up and running, what then? Live to vape her another day? Take a thousand Wobbles and start another war, with Betty on the verge of taking out the one defence system the Thread had already?
He was racing for his life and probably shouldn’t be thinking of the big picture, but the ground was shaking and Betty was here and if someone wasn’t—
Okay, Johnny bring her to the fifth level, right here. A blip appeared on his positioning system. Krugar says we’ve going to take the shot.
He didn’t know what shot that was supposed to be, but he hit a lift, flying up two floors, then sped down a hallway. He emerged onto a platform jutting out into the central hub, thirty metres wide.
Where the vape was he supposed to go from here? Three hallways led back away from the hub; other than that, three sides of empty air. Betty rolled onto the platform as he slowly backed towards the edge. “All right,” she said, waving the two light swords. “You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn. You first, then the rest of the traitors. Any last—”
The others burst onto the platform: Dillac and Shabaz from lifts on the left; Onna and Kesi from ones on the right; Krugar zipping down on a rope from above. They all opened fire as they hit the platform—Krugar was firing as he dropped. Torres emerged from one of the hallways with a gun like the one Torg had once used in the Core.
Betty screamed, bombarded from all sides, as the hub echoed with pounding detonations. Johnny stared: he’d never seen such violence at close quarters, even the race through the Vies to get into the factory hadn’t been this concentrated. Betty’s swords went flying; no one could survive this, this was a slaughter—
Then the scream became a roar and Betty’s Hasty-Arms popped out farther than Johnny would have ever imagined possible, growing to ten times their size, sweeping the platform. She slapped Shabaz and the others off the sides, plucking Krugar out of the air where he’d leaped to avoid her and hurling him out into the factory.
“You jackhole,” she cried, surging towards Johnny, her arms retreating back to their normal size. He raised a light-sword to defend himself and she snatched it from his hands with almost contemptuous ease. “You think you’re saving anything here?! I’m the one trying to save everything. For the last fifty years, I’m the only one who’s been defending the Thread.” She flipped the sword around, blade down, pointed at Johnny. “And I’m going to vaping save it, with or without your help.”
“Then maybe you should have a look at what you’re saving,” a voice said. And, even as the light-sword descended, a flash of magenta and gold darted in front of Johnny.
“Ahh, sweetlips,” Torg said, staring at the sword embedded in his torso. “That hurts.”
He reeled back on his treads, towards the edge. As he did, his Hasty-Arms fell to his side and something tumbled out from one of his hands, skidding away. Then he went over the side.
“Torg!” Johnny and Betty both cried, racing to the edge. Far below, Torg’s body lay crumpled on the floor of the factory. It lay there for a moment, then evaporated.
A quality of anger that Johnny had never felt before surged through him. She’d killed Torg. She had killed—all three of his eyes swung towards her, to see a fury that matched his own. “I’ll vape you,” she hissed, reaching forward. “I’ll vape you with my own—”
“HEY!”
Betty and Johnny swung an eye.
Not far away, Zen sat on his treads, holding the device Torg had dropped in his hands: a small, square box with a single button. The Level One had all three eyes on Betty, each one flat with anger. “I’m only seventeen days old. I don’t even know who you are. But I liked Torg.” He held up the device. “I wonder what this does?”
Betty lunged forward. Zen hit the button.
And the factory exploded with light.