“You’re not even listening,” I accused.
“You seemed like you wanted to talk,” she said curtly. “I gave you the chance.”
Sparks, I thought, feeling like a slontze. We fell silent as we walked, which seemed to suit Megan just fine.
“You don’t know how aggravating this is,” I finally said.
She gave me a glance, her emotions hidden. “Aggravating?”
“Yes, aggravating. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life studying the Reckoners and the Epics. Now that I’m with you, I’m told I’m not allowed to ask questions about important things. It’s aggravating.”
“Think about something else.”
“There is nothing else. Not to me.”
“Girls.”
“None.”
“Hobbies.”
“None. Just you guys, Steelheart, and my notes.”
“Wait,” she said. “Notes?”
“Sure,” I said. “I worked in the Factory during the days, always listening for rumors. I spent my free days spending what little money I had buying newspapers or stories off those who traveled abroad. I got to know a few information brokers. Each night I’d work on the notes, putting it all together. I knew I’d need to be an expert on Epics, so I became one.”
She frowned deeply.
“I know,” I said, grimacing. “It sounds like I don’t have a life. You’re not the first to tell me that. The others at the Factory—”
“Hush,” she said. “You wrote about Epics, but what about us? What about the Reckoners?”
“Of course I wrote it down,” I said. “What was I supposed to do? Keep it in my head? I filled a couple notebooks, and though most of it was guesswork, I’m pretty good at guessing.…” I trailed off, realizing why she looked so worried.
“Where is it all?” she asked softly.
“In my flat,” I said. “Should be safe. I mean, none of those goons got close enough to see me clearly.”
“And the woman you pulled out of her car?”
I hesitated. “Yeah, she saw my face. She might be able to describe me. But, I mean, that wouldn’t be enough for them to track me, right?”
Megan was silent.
Yes, I thought. Yes, it might be enough. Enforcement was very good at its job. And unfortunately, I had a few incidents in my past, such as the taxi wreck. I was on file, and Steelheart would give Enforcement a great deal of motivation to follow every lead regarding Fortuity’s death.
“We need to talk to Prof,” Megan said, towing me by the arm toward where the others were walking ahead.
9
PROF listened to my explanation with thoughtful eyes. “Yes,” he said as I finished. “I should have seen this. It makes sense.”
I relaxed. I’d been afraid he’d be furious.
“What’s the address, son?” Prof asked.
“Fifteen thirty-two Ditko Place,” I said. It was carved into the steel around a park in one of the nicer areas of the understreets. “It’s small, but I live alone. I keep it locked tight.”
“Enforcement won’t need a key,” Prof said. “Cody, Abraham, go to this place. Set a firebomb, make sure nobody is inside, and blow the entire room.”
I felt a sudden jolt of alarm, as if someone had hooked up my toes to a car battery. “What?”
“We can’t have Steelheart getting that information, son,” Prof said. “Not just the information about us, but the information on the other Epics you collected. If it’s as detailed as you say, he could use it against the other powerful Epics in the region. Steelheart already has too much influence. We need to destroy that intel.”
“You can’t!” I exclaimed, my voice echoing in the narrow, steel-walled tunnel. Those notes were my life’s work! Sure, I hadn’t been around that long, but still … ten years of effort? Losing it would be like losing a hand. Given the option, I’d rather lose the hand.
“Son,” Prof said, “don’t push me. Your place here is fragile.”
“You need that information,” I said. “It’s important, sir. Why would you burn hundreds of pages of information about the powers of Epics and their possible weaknesses?”
“You said you gathered it through hearsay,” Tia said, her arms crossed. “I doubt there’s anything in it that we don’t know already.”
“Do you know Nightwielder’s weakness?” I asked, desperate.
Nightwielder. He was one of Steelheart’s High Epic bodyguards, and his powers created the perpetual darkness over Newcago. He was a shadowy figure himself, completely incorporeal, immune to gunfire or weapons of any kind.
“No,” Tia admitted. “And I doubt you do either.”
“Sunlight,” I said. “He becomes solid in sunlight. I’ve got pictures.”
“You have pictures of Nightwielder in corporeal form?” Tia asked.
“I think so. The person I bought them from wasn’t certain, but I’m reasonably sure.”
“Hey, lad,” Cody called. “You want to buy Loch Ness from me? I’ll give you a good price.”
I glared at him, and he just shrugged. Loch Ness was in Scotland, I knew that much, and it seemed that the crest on Cody’s cap might be some kind of Scottish or English deal. But his accent didn’t match.
“Prof,” I said, turning back to him. “Phaedrus, sir, please. You have to see my plan.”
“Your plan?” He didn’t seem surprised that I’d worked out his name.
“For killing Steelheart.”
“You have a plan?” Prof asked. “For killing the most powerful Epic in the country?”
“That’s what I told you before.”
“I thought you wanted to join us to get us to do it.”
“I need help,” I said. “But I didn’t come empty-handed. I’ve got a detailed plan. I think it will work.”
Prof just shook his head, looking bemused.
Suddenly, Abraham laughed. “I like him. He has … something. Un homme téméraire. You sure we aren’t recruiting, Prof?”
“Yes,” Prof said flatly.
“At least look at my plan before you burn it,” I said. “Please.”
“Jon,” Tia said. “I’d like to see these pictures. They’re likely fake, but even so …”
“Fine,” Prof said, tossing something to me. The magazine for my rifle. “Change of plans. Cody, you take Megan and the boy and go to his place. If Enforcement is there and looks like they’re going to take this information, destroy it. But if the site looks safe, bring it back.” He eyed me. “Whatever you can’t carry easily, destroy. Understood?”
“Sure,” Cody said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It’s not a favor, son,” Prof said. “And I hope it’s not a mistake either. Go on. We may not have much time before they track you.”
It was getting quiet in the understreets by the time we neared Ditko Place. You’d think that, with the perpetual darkness, there wouldn’t really be a “day” or a “night” in Newcago, but there is. People tend to want to sleep when everyone else sleeps, so we settle into routines.
Of course, there are a minority who don’t like to do as told, even when it comes to something simple. I was one of those. Being up all night means being awake when everyone else is sleeping. It’s quieter, more private.
The ceiling lights were set to a clock somewhere, and they colored to deeper shades when it was night. The change was subtle, but we learned to notice it. So, even though Ditko Place was near the surface, there wasn’t much motion on the streets. People were sleeping.
We arrived at the park, a large underground chamber carved from the steel. It had numerous holes in the ceiling for fresh air, and blue-violet lights shone from spotlights around the rim. The center of the tall chamber was cluttered with rocks brought in from outside—real rocks, not ones that had been turned to steel. There was also wooden playground equipment, moderately well maintained, that had been scavenged from somewhere. In the daytime the place would fill with children—the ones too young to work, or the ones with families who could afford not to have them work. Old women and men would gather to knit socks or do other simple work.
Megan raised her hand to still us. “Mobiles?” she whispered.
Cody sniffed. “Do I look like some amateur?” he asked. “It’s on silent.”
I hesitated, then took mine off the place on my shoulder and double-checked. Fortunately it was on silent. I took out the battery anyway, just in case. Megan moved quietly out of the tunnel and across the park toward the shadow of a large rock. Cody went next, then I followed, keeping low and moving as quietly as I could, passing large stones growing lichen.
Up above a few cars rumbled by on the roadway that ran past the openings in the ceiling. Late-night commuters heading home. Sometimes they’d throw trash down on us. A surprising number of the rich still had ordinary jobs. Accountants, teachers, salesmen, computer technicians—though Steelheart’s datanet was open only to his most trusted. I’d never seen a real computer, just my mobile.
It was a different world above, and jobs that had once been common were now held by only the privileged. The rest of us worked factories or sewed clothing in the park while watching children play.