Kaylee fretted more in the minutes following that call from her grandmother than she had the prior several days. Even without overhearing Gram’s side of the conversation, Ned’s reaction had said it all.
Of all her illustrious relatives—genetic twins or otherwise—possibly only the legendary Plato Fourteen had been more prone to spectacular failures than her grandmother Abbigail. As a creative genius, the ability to have a piece of art bomb spectacularly and keep on going was an invaluable asset.
Kaylee just hoped that she’d fare better with actual bombs involved.
It wasn’t that Kaylee was ungrateful. But as she paced the confines of her aisle wringing her hands, she wished that her great-grandmother had come in person. No one was better qualified to handle a tough negotiation than Eve Fourteen.
“All right, Earth girl,” Ned said, coming down from the stage. “Let’s get moving.”
“Moving?” Kaylee asked. “Where?”
“Out,” Ned replied. “Free. Pick up the pace before I change my mind.”
She looked to her husband. “And Alan?”
“Just go,” Alan told her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Depends how much this one can do from outside,” Ned said, hooking a thumb at Kaylee.
Ned marched her out of the audience seating and up the step at the side of the stage, towing her by the upper arm. Kaylee complied readily if not eagerly, pausing before being hauled backstage to share a last glimpse of Alan. He gave her a brave nod.
In the clutches of the Chain Breakers, all by herself, Kaylee wondered whether the promise of freedom was merely a ruse to separate her from the other hostages with minimal fuss. They could do anything to her back here, and there was no one to stop them.
“Hold still,” Ned ordered, forcing her into a chair that was little more than a stool with a short backrest.
Kaylee shut her eyes and steadied her breathing, trying to will her imagination into silence. It was just her, Ned, Gregor, and Wil in the room. The calculating, scientific portion of her brain tried to work out how long her ordeal might last if they took turns having their way with her. The lobe responsible for self-preservation told that dispassionate part to shut up and try to remain positive.
She felt hands on her shoulders. “Chin up,” Gregor ordered.
A moment later, the collar came free of her neck.
Kaylee opened her eyes. “That’s it?”
Ned shoved a bundle into her hands. “That’s it. Now get out.”
They didn’t manhandle her, but Ned and Wil escorted her to the main entrance, where Calvin had been posted as a guard just inside the door. When the door opened, the sting of sunlight glinting through the Curiosity dome stabbed her eyes. She raised a hand to ward away the glare.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll be all right, dear. Don’t worry about me.”
Kaylee whirled to see Grammy Abby heading into Arthur Miller Theater in Ned’s custody. She reached back, but the door closed, shutting her away.
“Gram, no!” Kaylee shouted, realizing all too late the price of her release.
It was Charlie7’s turn to herd Kaylee along by the arm. “Come on. Too many ears by that door,” he said in an undertone.
“She can’t do that,” Kaylee protested quietly, suddenly aware of the eyes following her from just beyond the cordon. There must have been a hundred Martians gathered to view the spectacle of her release.
Dana greeted them as Charlie7 lifted the flimsy yellow plastic strip that marked the no-man’s land between Curiosity colony and its tiny breakaway republic of Arthur Miller Theater. She took Kaylee’s hands in both of hers. “I’m so glad you’re all right. What can you tell us about the situation in there?”
Kaylee did her best to be thorough. She gave them the layout of the hostages and Chain Breakers, the clothing they’d been given, how the meals had been delivered, and their treatment by Ned’s goons. If it wasn’t already apparent by her face, the latter hadn’t been gentle.
“The worst part was the collars,” Kaylee said, running a hand along her neck where chafed skin felt the cool breeze of the colony air circulators even inside the tent. “Knowing they could kill us with the touch of a button was terrifying.” She didn’t want to admit that the very idea of it still was, or that she bore that terror on Alan’s behalf even from outside the theater.
“What can you tell us about the devices?” Charlie7 asked. “Anything at all about the control scheme, the type of explosive in them, how the remote works?”
“Ned has a handheld remote,” Kaylee said. She described the device but couldn’t give much detail beyond a visual description.
“Not much to go on,” Dana said. “We can’t mount a rescue based on that.”
“We need to rescue them,” Kaylee said. “Ned’s not going to cave. He’s pathologically averse to giving up. He’s a plow ox with a field ahead of him, and he’s going to plow it one way or another. I don’t think anyone but Eve could talk him out of this insanity. Why isn’t my great-grandmother here? It’s not like her to send someone.”
Charlie7 cast his orange glowing gaze downward. “It’s her health. There’s not a lot of time left for her and less breath. Her doctors are debating whether a set of artificial lungs would help or whether the shock to her system might be too much.”
Dana took Kaylee by the hand. “I’m very sorry.”
Snatching her hand away, Kaylee shot Charlie7 a scowl. “So, you brought Grammy Abby here to play stand-in? What were you thinking? Does Eve know about this?”
“Someone’s probably informed her by now,” Charlie7 admitted.
Kaylee threw up her hands. “I can’t believe this! And you let her trade herself for me? Now who’s supposed to negotiate with Ned?”
“She seemed intent on continuing in that role from the inside,” Charlie7 explained. “It’s non-standard, but for Abby, non-standard is standard.”
Taking a heavy breath, Kaylee squared her shoulders and looked Charlie7 in the eye. “I demand that you go in there and save everyone. Ned might hesitate to kill the humans, but those poor robots are doomed. Someone needs to put a stop to this, and that’s you.”
Charlie7 twitched a sad smile. “You’re like them, you know. Genetics and upbringing both; I suppose some similarity is inevitable. But Abby only pretends to order me around. Eve gets away with pretending a little more convincingly. But I don’t take orders from anyone, especially not a young, freshly released hostage high on adrenaline.”
“I’m forty-six!” Kaylee protested.
“I’ve had sneezes that lasted longer,” Charlie7 replied flippantly. “But don’t get in a snit. Abby passed me something just before embarking on this crazed scheme of hers. She said to give it to you. It’s DNA encoded. I could crack it easily enough, but it’ll be quicker if you do it.”
Kaylee snatched the tiny sliver of a data crystal from his hands and borrowed a portable from Dana. Hers was still in the theater with Ned’s gang. When Charlie7 attempted to follow her out the tent, she stabbed a finger in his direction. “Stay.”
Pulling up short, the robot blinked.
“If there’s anything you need to know, I’ll share it with you. Since it’s DNA encoded, it might be family business.”