We turned and ran in the direction she pointed, through a series of doors that opened into a short hallway with a projection of a field. The last door was the door to the outside. It opened with no sounds, no alarms.
We walked out into the brisk, sweet night air. We were outside. Free.
“Where’s the car?” I asked.
Michael pointed toward the far corner of the building, out at the end of the parking lot, toward the street. “That way.”
We ran, crossing the street and making our way to the next block. We tried to stay behind cars and in shadows as much as possible. Finally, we reached the car, and I unlocked it so we could climb in.
Hyden started the engine. The sound broke through the quiet night.
“Hurry,” I said.
Hyden drove down the empty street. Michael reached over to give me a high five.
“Don’t celebrate so fast,” Hyden said. “I want some distance between us and that place.”
I looked past Michael to the airscreen in the back. It was still closed, but a faint glow peeked out from under the cover.
“My dad’s z-drive,” I said. “Maybe it finished processing.”
We needed a quiet, safe place to view what my father had left. Hyden knew of a place that would be open—an underground hydroponic co-op garden.
“What’s that?” I asked him.
“A place where we can also get some fresh food,” he said.
“Let me guess. It’s belowground because they want to avoid spore dust?”
“It’s the new ‘organic,’ ” Michael said.
“That,” Hyden said, “and some of the people stay low as much as they can. The Enders come right after work. They’re that afraid of a future attack.”
We got out of our car. A Starter immediately wiped it down like at the flea market. The air here was humid and warm and smelled earthy. We didn’t care; we were so glad to be free from Dawson.
We had to step into shallow troughs filled with a murky liquid before we were allowed to enter the green market. They had several set up.
“So we don’t track in spore dust?” I asked Hyden as I swished my shoes in the trough.
“It’s got a chemical agent in it.” He stepped out of his trough. “We’re lucky the head gardener isn’t here today. She makes you put a paper gown over your clothes.”
I looked to my right and saw Michael shaking his wet shoes like a cat coming in from the rain. Inside, there were tables of tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, all manned by Enders and Starters alike.
“They get the light from tubes leading to the outdoors,” Hyden said. “And from lights run on portable batteries they charge in their cars.”
The garden itself was behind the tables of produce. Large trays of vegetables were set in larger trays of a water bath. I looked at the range of gardeners spraying water on the plants.
“The people here … ,” I started to say quickly.
“All kinds,” Hyden said in a low voice. “They just don’t trust the safety of food sold up there.”
“Can’t blame them,” Michael said.
We picked up fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and juices. Having paid for the produce, we were able to stay in the parking spot to look at the airscreen. Hyden and I got in the backseat and popped up the airscreen while Michael stood outside, leaning in, munching on a cucumber. The drive had finished deciphering the encryption and was ready to play. Hyden started it and an image of my father appeared on the airscreen.
Dad looked worried. His hair was uncombed. There were dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to look directly at me when he spoke, as if he knew I would be here someday.
“This drive contains confidential proprietary material not intended for any other transmission. In the case of my death, I, Ray Woodland, declare that the research contained herein should benefit my two children, Callie and Tyler.”
He was doing this for me. My heart ached.
“Callie, if you are watching this, the work I leave behind may provide for you and Tyler. I’ve been developing a process of transposition, a mind-body transfer. I know I am not alone, that others have succeeded and surpassed me, but my findings on reverse transposition have a particular function that I believe no one has been able to achieve to date. It will be of value for you to sell to provide for yourselves.”
“Reverse transposition?” I asked.
Hyden froze the image in the air with a tap of his fingers. “That’s when a donor body, like you, gets back into the body of the renter and controls it. It’s something no one has done yet.”
Me? Control my jacker? What a concept.
“Going into my jacker’s body? Seeing through his eyes? Making him move? That would be incredible.”