Moira rested her head against the window and breathed through her nose until the pain in her stomach eased. Bending over to put on her socks and shoes had turned into the most difficult part of her day. At least it was over with, and she could rest for a while before going to meet Andy’s friend.
She remained on the window seat, not moving being less painful than standing up. Despite her reassurances to Andy, she was relieved to know a doctor would see her. Her stomach felt as if it had ripped in half when Wayland hit her.
She still felt nervous about going alone to meet a stranger. Andy had insisted she could trust Karen Jones, but she didn’t know if she could quite trust his interpretation of Pete’s message. “I’ve known Karen and Pete all my life,” he’d told her. “Our parents were friends before any of us were born. If she’s promised to meet you, that means the rebels have agreed to take you in.”
They would take her, in exchange for Andy providing them information. He had not said that, but she knew that was the price. This was so dangerous for him. If he got caught, she’d never forgive herself.
Her mind wandered into the odd behavior of neutrinos and people from another universe. What kind of people manipulated neutrinos for interdimensional travel? They had to be far more advanced than humans in her world.
The chill from the window forced her to move to the bed, where she wrapped herself in a quilt and called up the bridge on her Pad. She traced paths through the pattern, trying to discern where it started and where it ended. The equations describing the paths were complicated, and she lost track of time as she double-checked her work. A whining buzz was her only warning before the room’s door clicked open, and a cleaning bot trundled in.
It stopped just inside the room, a bullet-shaped cylinder two feet tall, with sensors blinking red and blue on its pointed top. Three arms, two on one side, and one on the other, extended from their storage space and waved up and down. The fourth arm remained in its retracted position. The top of the cylinder rotated so that the sensors faced Moira, who sat frozen on the bed.
“This unit regrets the interruption.” Its mechanical voice was high and annoying, indicative of its cheap industrial provenance, but Moira was too fearful to let it bother her. She remained silent and the bot spoke again. “Room 432 is registered to Andrew Green, an employee of Sun Consortium. The house reports that he left the premises at 0723 hours. Please state your name and authorization.”
Moira’s lips moved twice before she got any sound out, remembering at the very last second, who she was supposed to be. “I am Sandy Williams of Oxford. I am here ...” she floundered and continued weakly, “to meet Mr. Green for dinner. I was early, so I’m working until he arrives.”
She held her breath as the lights blinked in silence for a small eternity. Her eyes flicked to the door, measuring the distance she’d have to jump if she needed to escape. The bot spoke again.
“Acceptable. Do you approve if this unit cleans the room?”
“No, thank you.” Moira sat straighter and tried to sound official. “I require no interruptions so that I may concentrate on my work.”
“As you wish.” The arms retracted in silent motion, disappearing into the body. The unit reversed without turning, backing out of the room. The door closed.
“Holy Jesus,” Moira breathed. Then she found herself standing, gasping as the sudden motion pulled at her stomach. Her glance darted about the room, taking in the two backpacks, her hairbrush on the nightstand, and the pile of extra blankets which had served as Andy’s bed. The bathroom contained two sets of damp towels and two toothbrushes. Shit.
The bot would report her presence, and her story, to the House AI. Security would investigate. Her heart banged against her ribs as she shuddered into movement. It took her a few minutes to clear her things into her pack, thrusting her Pad into its outer pocket at the last moment. She paused, willing her stomach to behave, as she scanned the room a final time. Only Andy’s things were left. Security could pick up any cells she left behind of course, but after all, they already knew she’d been here. But if they did a DNA analysis, they’d know who she was. They’d know that Andy had helped her escape.
She hesitated. Andy had said that her new chip would pass a cursory examination. If she stayed and continued her bluff, would Security be satisfied with a superficial scan of her chip? The story was plausible. It was even plausible that Andy might have had a girlfriend stay the night. It was against the law, but Belfast was an industrial hub. Security might not care.
Indecision tore at her. If she left, would it force a deeper investigation? But if she didn’t leave, they might investigate anyway, and she’d end up back in Chelmsford.
Her feet made the choice for her, transporting her out the door before she’d made a conscious decision. At the end of the hall, she pressed the button for the lift. A room door opened further down the hall and she jerked with fear. But it was only another woman, reading the Pad she held in one hand, while rolling a briefcase behind her with the other. Moira kept her eyes on the lift door, hoping to avoid any conversation.
The door slid open. Next to Moira, the woman stepped forward without lifting her eyes from her Pad, still pulling her briefcase. Two men trying to exit collided with her, one tripping over the case and ripping the handle from her grip as he fell. The case slammed into the opposite wall, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard inside it. Amid the racket, Moira saw security badges swinging from the men’s lapels, and she slipped into the lift before any of the three could recover, slamming her hand on the first floor button. No one bothered to look at her as the door slid closed.