~

Chapter Twenty

~

Except for the one backup on Oceanside, and then again on the East Plain Highway, which scared the heck out of me—guiltily expectin’ a roadblock of stupid humans searchin’ for us—the last ten hours had been uneventful, and tedious, considerin’ I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since all of this started. Drivin’ through the night is hard. Didn’t expect it to be so hard.

With the east turnin’ purple in my side mirrors, I realized we hadn’t heard from Jam yet. Still early, but better to get some direction from him now, before we got any nearer. The glow of civilization in front of us grew.

“Ya’re gonna kill us,” Nuel mumbled, “drivin’ and playin’ with yar phone.”

I sighed. When did she wake up? I assumed the wine would keep her out for another month or so. “Then call Jam. Check in.”

Maybe I didn’t really read her mind, but I’m pretty sure she asked if she’s my secretary now. But she pulled her cell out of her vest. Funny neither of us had synced to the SUV. In the quiet of the cab I heard the continued ring on her phone, until a tone interrupted it with a message. She didn’t leave her own.

“That’s odd,” she said. A ten-count later she said she was gonna call Wizper.

That worked. Wizper might answer her call. Most anyone else wouldn’t. Jam probably would have answered my call. He doesn’t hate me much.

Though her phone wasn’t on speaker, I heard Wizper answer and gush a hello, and somethin’ about wonderin’ where she was. She also shouted that she was out for a jog with Darshee. Hens have to let ya know everythin’ they’re doin’ or thinkin’.

“Kriz and I are nearin’ home. Have ya heard from Jam?”

The voice softened, or I got tired tryin’ to listen in. Nuel didn’t say anythin’ for a while. Then, “Ya think we should join ya there, or what?”

I drove past evidence of civilization, silos here, a few warehouses there, a 5-12 Market, enterin’ the glow that for an hour never moved nearer, before Nuel spoke again. “I’m thinkin’ of headin’ north.”

That raised a louder volume on the far side of the connection, but I still couldn’t make it out. Not that I would ever care what two hens had to say to each other.

“A long story,” Nuel said.

I was thinkin’ about that first plethora of red and blue state trooper lights surroundin’ that disabled car. The second scare, it appeared someone had simply driven off the road. Fell asleep? With all the safety doodads on cars these days? But the idjit rubber neckers made a five-mile-long parkin’ lot of the highway.

Imaginary threats aside, would there be any bad people really lookin’ for us? No doubt Ike feared so. But he’s not as smart as he looks. Or tries to put on. But again, that whole detour east was all about him gettin’ that SD card. His detour to stay safe.

Nuel spoke all secretish now. All I need. If there’s somethin’ she didn’t want me to know, it wouldn’t be good for me. What were Ike’s words? Jam organizin’. What? More bodyguards? A place to stay?

Don’t go home vibrated in my head. If anyone is lookin’ specifically for us, they would be watchin’ our townhouses. A hotel. But I’d have to use a card. And everyone who’s ever read a spy novel knows bad people can track credit card transactions on a garage opener—before they even happen.

I’ve never nosed around in anyone’s credit card account. But if I can hack the telephone company, I could hack into some company platinum card account. So others could too.

Oh. I’ve been usin’ my card for gas and food this entire trip. We are so dead. They know we’re comin’ home. Thirty bad possibilities shrieked through my thoughts. The idea of bein’ hung by my thumbs while puny little humans beat me with water hoses almost made me laugh out loud.

Okay. Get serious, time to accept the worse that could really happen, and move forward from there. Think I read that in Psychology 101. Or one of those self-help books Ma likes to give me.

It occurred to me, I don’t have to read ’em. Had she ever asked me what I thought about any of ’em? Don’t think so.

Hmm.

Next option. Gettin’ ripped apart by flyin’ lead like Bonnie and Clyde seemed too far out there. More likely some over-zealous human politicians might want us held in the hoosegow for a few weeks as a subtle message. A threat, that OW was gonna be shut down and all the execs tarred and feathered.

But OW is a bigger part of the North’s economy than it is the South’s. We could shut down their economy considerin’ the software we market. Click it off like a light—could cripple ’em.

I hadn’t thought of that lately. That should truly be somethin’ they worry about.

Okay, lack of sleep. I’m not thinkin’ right.

For a second I was assumin’ humans are capable of reasonable thought and that is just stupid. Maybe I need to simplify in my head. In technology, we almost always over complicate thin’s. The best architecture is usually the first design. With tweaks.

These thoughts weren’t helpin’. What should we do?

Walk into some Northern Justice Department office with a gaggle of journalists on our hip? Or walk in shootin’ the place up. Nah.

Dial into some talk radio program and uncover truths? Uh. What would that serve?

Okay. I’m at a loss.

Or as stupid as Nuel thinks I am.

~

Nuel

~

“This is what we’re gonna do,” I told the idjit. “We’re gonna meet Wizper and Darshee at their hotel. They have two suites which Jam paid for with a company account. We hens will triple up. Ya take the other. That way we don’t have to worry about bein’ found out, usin’ yar credit card.”

He shook his head. What now? “We already decided.” He couldn’t just go off the beam.

“Ya decided,” he said. “I didn’t decide nothin’.”

“Oh. So now ya’re gonna cop an attitude because I didn’t follow blindly after ya?” My anger peaked unexpectedly. Why’d I want to club him to death so badly?

“I’ll drop ya off. Ya do what ya want. I’ve got other plans.”

Sure he did. I waited to hear his big plans. Waited a while longer. We were nearly all the way through the Plain hamlet. I finally had to point him to an exit. “So what are ya gonna do?”

Still he didn’t say anythin’.

I so hate this bull.

But I felt badly that he’s likely to get himself killed.

I talked him toward the hotel, since he probably couldn’t follow the SUV’s navigator. Even though he probably architected the software. At the hotel, he let me out and drove away without even a good luck.