The Burn Zone (14 page)

Shiliuyuán
Station.

My smile shifted to a frown. That didn
’
t make any sense. There wasn
’
t any
Shiliuyuán
Station, not anymore. It was destroyed in the Impact. Did it mean the location where the station used to be? Had she taken him to the ship?

On the tray underneath it, another message indicator flashed. That one was from
Vamp,
sent maybe an hour or so before Dragan
’
s message.

Still pulling the eyebot data but got you something else. Check your phone.

I rubbed my eyes, making the holodisplay warp as I pawed around for my cell phone. He
’
d sent me a mail with a single link to somewhere on one of the Channel X servers, and when I touched it, a long string of text appeared. I squinted, head pounding, as I tried to focus on the scrolling characters.

It took me a second to realize what I was looking at, but when I did, a weak smile spread over my face.

“
Holy shit, you
’
re the best,
”
I said under my breath. They were messages from Dragan
’
s e-mail account. Vamp had managed to hack into Dragan
’
s security e-mail and pull copies of the messages that had been sitting in his in-box. There were only a few, but accessing them like that was enough to get
him in huge trouble, never mind posting and distributing them. Add to that Dragan was
fl
agged as a violent dissident—

Vamp?
There was a slight pause.

Yeah.

Vamp, you have to take that down right away.

I will. Make a copy.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

Where are you?

I can
’
t believe you would do that for me.

He paused again, a little longer that time.
Where are you? I need to tell you something.

That place we sometimes stay. You know where I mean?

Yeah.

What do you need to tell me?

In person.

Ring me when you
’
re here. I
’
ll come down.

See you soon.

I thumbed through the e-mail entries, excitement mingling queasily in my stomach with the remains of scalefly and too much shine. The first mail on the list, the last one he
’
d received, was from some guy named Eng
with no subject. I opened it up and found just a few sentences:

Passage clear to Duongroi.
Meet me at my place in the Pink Bull, H
ă
iy
á
ng-G
ā
od
ù
, to pick up passports. Bring payment, and come alone.

I checked the date. He
’
d received the message the morning before, after he
’
d arrived in Hangfei maybe, or shortly before. He hadn
’
t responded, but he
’
d read it.

Passports.
My heart sank a little as doubt tried to worm its way in. Dragan had a passport, so why would he need new ones? Why would he need
to get them from some guy in
Hăiyáng-Gāodù
, instead of through security, and why was he so hot to sneak over to Duongroi?

There
’
s a reason,
I thought.
You don
’
t know what
’
s going on. He had a reason.

“
Hăiyáng-Gāodù
,
”
I said to myself. Did he know this guy Eng? I
’
d never heard him mention him.

I rustled through my knapsack and found a few cigarillos in a squished pack. I pulled one out with my teeth as I tapped in a quick search for the Pink Bull—it was a hotel. Dragan must have gone there before coming home maybe, or maybe this guy Eng was still there waiting for him. I lit the smoke and took a deep drag, a small nicotine rush kicking in as I blew it out through my nose.

Eng.

I sifted through the other e-mails. Most of the ones below it had to do with work. The one right below Eng
’
s had the subject line
RE: Alexei Drugov.
I opened that one.

The brass is shutting this one down. From this point on, any and all information regarding the Drugov family has been marked classified. Drop it, Shao.

The rest of the thread had been redacted. The ones below it suggested he and a team of others were investigating abductions in a place called Lobnya, in the Pan-Slav border territories. Most of it was just requests for
supplies or personnel, along with status reports that were encrypted so I couldn
’
t read them. A couple looked like they were between him and someone else, though, some civilian. There were two mingled in with the rest to someone named Innuya Drugov. They were in Pan-Slav gibberish, but the Web translator was able to decipher it for me. The first said just:

Please, Dragan, tell me something. Is he alive? Is my son alive?

I found him. He
’
s alive. Stand by.

Thank you, Dragan. I owe you my life.

The last one read:

Innuya, read this carefully and do exactly as it says. If this works we’ll have a very limited window to get him into Hangfei, so you have to be ready when I say. Gather a single pack containing only what you can’t leave behind. You will never return. I know this is hard. Be strong. I love you.

My eyes lingered on the end of the message.

I
love you.

Before I knew it, my face flushed and I started chewing the inside of my lower lip. He did have a girl there. The son of a bitch really had hooked up with someone, some Pan-Slav, and her Pan-Slav kid.

Alexei Drugov.

I glared at the name. I felt stupid being jealous, but I was, and I couldn
’
t help it. Was this why my messages had gone unanswered? Did he have some kind of second family over there or something?

“
I
’
m going to ask you one more time, where did you take
Alexei Drugov?
”

That was the name the woman soldier, the haan in disguise, had used during the raid. They were looking for him ... but why?

...
the
feeds are already buzzing. Word is he got picked up for smuggling some kind of weapon into Hangfei.
Something bad.

Possibilities, all the worst possibilities that had been floated across the news channels for the past months started firing off in my head. Could it be true? Had one of them finally snuck something over here that was a million times worse than just a roadside bomb?

And had Dragan helped them?

If
this works we
’
ll have a very limited window to get him into Hangfei, so you have to be ready when I say.

I shook my head, taking another drag off the cigarillo.

“
It
’
s not true,
”
I croaked. Dragan would never attack his own country. It had to be the kid, or his mother, and if Dragan really did sneak them into Hangfei, there was no way he could have known about it. He wouldn
’
t do that. There was no way in the world Dragan would do that—

A knock came at the door, and I jumped so bad that I dropped the phone down onto the bed next to me. I took a step back and froze.

Who knew I was here? Just Vamp, and there
’
s no way he got to the hotel that fast.

I didn
’
t say anything. I didn
’
t even breathe, I just stood there, completely still, as the knock came again.

“
Sam Shao?
”
a voice called softly. It was a man
’
s voice, but I didn
’
t recognize it.

I started looking around for some other way out, but there was nowhere else to go. When the knock came a third time, I pulled the curtain shut and tiptoed over to the end table in the dim light.

I
’
d just picked up the pistol when I heard the low crackle come from the direction of the door, and whipped around to see a point of bright white light floating there just inside it. Immediately it expanded into a hexagonal portal, a haan gate, and through it I could see the hallway on the other side of the door where a dark shape stood. I saw two pink lights and a mellow green glow that flashed near his throat as he spoke.

“
Oh, you are here.
”

I stumbled back, pointing the gun in front of me, as the figure stepped through the gate and into the room. I squeezed the gun
’
s grip like Dragan had shown me, and a thumbnail-sized display appeared floating next to the chamber. The magazine was full, with twenty rounds total.

“
Don
’
t move,
”
I said, trying to keep my voice even. The gun was shaking, and I tried to steady it with my other hand.
“
You move and I
’
ll...
”

My voice piddled out as I saw the pink lights were actually large, glowing eyes. At the same time, a signal came through the mite cluster like an arrow driven straight through my forehead. It surprised me, and I sucked in a breath, but it didn
’
t hurt or anything. It was just the opposite. The signal sought out some feel-good part of my brain, and I felt happy all of a sudden, like an old friend I
’
d thought was gone had stepped through the door. Relief and the joy of his being back, the comfort of being in his arms kind of washed over me even though I knew it was all just in my head.

“
You
’
re a haan,
”
I said.

“
Yes.
”

His voice was a calm tenor, quiet but confident. The flashing light, I realized, was the flicker from his voice box.

My eyelids drooped, and a loopy smile grew on my face as the gun lowered a few inches. The tingling in my
head was branching out, nudging other pleasure centers until I felt a little numb.

“
I am not a threat to you,
”
he said, taking a step closer as the gate collapsed behind him.
“
You don
’
t need your weapon.
”
He had his hands held up by his head so that I could see them, black material draping from his arms.

What with my hunger, my fear, my hangover, and his diddling through the mites, I had trouble keeping the gun from drifting. I
’
d never fired one before, and it must have been obvious, but I wasn
’
t ready to put it down just yet. I kept it pointed in his general direction while he waited to see what I would do.

I flipped on the light. My first impression of him was his eyes, which were an unusual sunset pink. My second impression was that he was short for a haan, not being very much taller than me. My third impression was, as strange as it was, that I knew him.

His face was haan-handsome, in that way that made you
think
of a doll or mannequin. They looked like masks, formed into something almost humanlike, except for the fact that they didn
’
t conceal anything and were breakable as ceramic. His brains rippled calmly around the edges behind his large eyes, and I could see the dark shadow of his feeding orifice behind his molded lips. His clothes showed off long, lean muscle underneath without being too flashy and he held himself with the confidence and balance of a gymnast or martial artist. The suit he wore was sharp, crisp, and a flawless fit.