Crosstalk (64 page)

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Authors: Connie Willis

BOOK: Crosstalk
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Like what?

“None of your business,” he said. “This is just between me and your Aunt Briddey.”

Oh, I get it. Sex.

“No, not—” Briddey said.

I'll bet. You think I don't know about sex, but me and Danika watched
Zombie Girls Gone Wild
last night
.

“I thought you were grounded,” Briddey said.

I am. But I told you, I overrode the block Mom put on my laptop. And on Danika's mom's Netflix account.
Which explained the movie, but not how she'd smuggled Danika into her room.

She wasn't
here
,
Maeve said.
We were on FaceTime together. If it isn't sex, why can't I listen?

“Because I said so,” C.B. said.

That isn't going to work,
Briddey thought.

“I know,” he said, and grabbed Briddey's hand. “But this is. Come on,” he whispered.

Whispering doesn't do any good with telepathy
, Maeve said.

“True,” he said, and to Briddey, as he hustled her across the courtyard to the weathered wooden cupboard: “That's why we need to get out of here.” He opened the cupboard doors, pulled out the clay pots, stacked them on top next to the radio, and then yanked out the shelves and dumped them onto the flagstones.

What are you doing?
Maeve asked.

C.B. didn't answer. He stepped inside the cabinet and then reached back out to take Briddey's hand.

Hey,
Maeve said.
Where are you going?

“Narnia,” C.B. said. “Duck,” he told Briddey, and pulled her into the cabinet.

“There's someone at the door.”

—Walk, Don't Run

There should have been a wooden back to the cupboard and, behind it, the adobe wall of the courtyard, but there wasn't. There was a white plastic wall with a control panel at waist height. C.B. pressed a button, and a door irised open.

“Blast door,” C.B. said, standing back so Briddey could precede him. “Sorry. Relic from my
Star Wars
phase.” He stepped through after her, and the door whooshed shut, leaving them in a torchlit stone passage with an arched wooden door at the end. “And my Hunchback of Notre Dame phase.”

“I thought you told me it was a maximum-security prison,” Briddey said as they started down the passage.

“My perimeter is.”

It's no use running away,
Maeve said.
I'll just find you
.

“You were right. Telepathy
is
a terrible idea,” Briddey said.

C.B. grinned, unlocked the wooden door with a huge iron key, hustled her through it, relocked the door from the other side, and led her down a corridor with a tile floor. And a wheelchair and an IV-stand. “We're in the hospital?” Briddey said.

“Yep.”

“But you hate hospitals.”

“We won't be here long,” he said, hurrying her along the corridor past her room.

Come on, where are you guys going?
Maeve called.

“Death Valley,” C.B. said.

“Where
are
we going?” Briddey whispered.


My
safe room,” he said, pushing the door open onto the stairwell she'd taken refuge in that first night.

“This is your safe room?” Briddey asked as they clattered down the stairs.

“No,” he said, hurrying across the landing where she'd sat and on down the steps to a door marked
SECOND FLOOR
, which opened not onto another hospital corridor, but into a different stairway.

“You built all these layers of defenses to keep the voices out?” Briddey said, following him down it.

“No. Remember, I was figuring it out as I went, so some parts of this were just early attempts. And a lot of it,” he said, indicating the stairwell they were in, which she now saw was the one that led down to his lab at Commspan, “is here for frequency hopping, to keep the voices from finding out where you are. I intended to teach you how to do this at the deli while we had breakfast, but then we were rudely interrupted.”

He hustled her down the last few steps, through the door to the sub-basement, and over to the elevator. “Right now,” he said, pushing the
UP
button, “we're using it to keep a certain small child from finding us.” And it must have been working because there was no outraged
I am
not
a small child!
from Maeve.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped through the opening door into the hallway they'd sneaked along after the library closed. Halfway down it, he said, “Hang on,” and darted into the staff lounge. The half-eaten birthday cake and the donations jar were still on the table. C.B. began opening drawers and rummaging through them.

“What are you looking for?” Briddey whispered.

“These,” he said, holding up a roll of Scotch tape and a flashlight. He stuck them in his pocket, grabbed a sheet of paper off the counter, scrawled something on it with a marker, dropped the iron key in the donations jar, grabbed the key to the Carnegie Room and Briddey's hand, switched off the light, and hurried her along the darkened hallway to the stairway that should have led up to the Carnegie Room. But it didn't. It led to Commspan's parking garage. And no wonder she hadn't been able to read his mind. Nobody could find their way through this maze of defenses.

“Yeah, well, that's not the only reason,” C.B. said, racing her along the rows of cars, their steps echoing, toward the door.

“What's the other one?”

“I'll tell you when we get there.”

“Get where?” she asked as he pushed through the doorway. Into the stacks. And apparently she'd been wrong about nobody being able to follow them through the maze, because before they were halfway along the row of books, Maeve called,
Come on, you guys! Tell me where you're going
.

“Havana,” C.B. said, opening the door to the stairs, pulling Briddey through, and shutting it behind them.

They were in the lobby of the theater.

This is no fair!
Maeve wailed as C.B. raced Briddey across the lobby, and it seemed to Briddey that Maeve's voice was growing fainter as they went.

They ran up the carpeted stairs to the theater doors and through them—to the stairway that led to the Carnegie Room. He bent to unlock the door.

His safe room's the Carnegie Room,
she thought, touched.
If this
is
the Carnegie Room.

It was. As they ran up the narrow stairs and through the oak doorway, she could see the fireplace and the bookshelves and the table, on it a box of Lucky Char—

You might as well give up,
Maeve said.
You can't get away from me.

“Oh, for the love of Mike!” C.B. said, pushing Briddey into the room and dropping to his knees in front of the card file. “I don't believe this. Nobody's
ever
been able to find my safe room, not even your intrepid aunt. ‘Poor wee bairn,' my foot.”

He pushed the Persian carpet back from the floorboards. “Come on.” He pulled up a square section of the polished wood floor, dropped down into the dark hole it exposed, and extended a hand to Briddey.

She clambered down to him, he pulled the trapdoor shut, and they hurried along what might have been the street in front of her apartment, though it was too dark to tell. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Inner sanctum,” he whispered. “Where even Maeve won't be able to find us. I hope.”

He rushed her around the corner and up another dark street to the library's front door. “We need to hurry. Here,” he said, handing her the flashlight and taping up the sheet of paper he'd brought from the staff lounge. It read,
KEEP OUT
!
THIS MEANS YOU, MAEVE! I MEAN IT!

He took the flashlight back from Briddey and opened the door. Onto pitch darkness. “In. Hurry,” he whispered, stepping inside after her and pulling the door shut. “Come on.” He fumbled for her hand and led her into the impenetrable darkness.

“Where are we?” she asked. “The Black Hole of Calcutta?”

“No,” he said, finally stopping.

“What happened to the flashlight?”

“It's right here. But before I turn it on, there's some stuff I need to tell you.”

“You
do
have X-ray vision,” she said.

“No. I'm serious, Briddey. The reason I've been able to read your mind and you couldn't read mine wasn't just my safe room. I've been intentionally blocking you because—”

“Because you were afraid I'd hear you thinking about Trent and find out what a creep he was being, and you didn't want me to be hurt. I know.”

“That was part of it—”

“Plus, I was hearing the voices, and you didn't think I could handle the idea of hearing any more thoughts than I was already. And then Trent showed up, and you didn't dare send any thoughts because he might hear them.”

“True, but that's not the only reason I blocked you. You know how I said it was just as well that the telepathy wouldn't be around anymore? Well, I meant it. It—” He stopped, took a deep breath, and started again. “Remember what I said about things having unintended consequences? Well, it turns out telepathy's no exception. You know how that first night in the hospital you—”

Here
you are,
Maeve's voice said from the darkness beside them.
I told you I'd find you! I can't believe you guys tried to ditch me.

“ ‘Tried' being the operative word,” C.B. said. “How did you get in here?”

Are you kidding? It was easy
.

“Yes, well, then it should be easy to get out,” C.B. said. “I told you I needed to talk to your Aunt Briddey alone.”

You mean you guys still didn't have sex? Did you at least kiss her?

“That is none of your business,” Briddey said. “Kissing is a private—”

No it's not,
Maeve said.
It's not even PG. They kiss in
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
and
Frozen
and
Enchant
—

“I don't care!” C.B. shouted. “
Go
away!”

“Let me handle this,” Briddey interjected. “Go away,” she said quietly, “or I'll tell your mother you watched
Zombie Girls Gone Wild
.”

You wouldn't dare!

“And
Zombie Terror
and
World War Z,
” Briddey went on ruthlessly. “And
Saw Reborn: Revenge of the Zombie Torturers
.”

I did
not
!
Maeve said indignantly.


I
know that,” Briddey said, “and you know that, but your mother doesn't, and who do you think she's going to believe? Now, are you going?”

Yes
, Maeve said grudgingly.
I hate grown-ups!
and they heard the door slam.

“Is she gon—?” Briddey began, and heard the door open.

Not that you care, but I fixed your stupid jammer!
Maeve said, and slammed the door again.

“What do you mean, you fixed it?” C.B. shouted. “Maeve, come back here!”

I thought you told me to go away. Make up your minds.

“What do you mean you fixed the jammer?”

I mean, I fixed it. I made it so we could still talk to each other.

“You did
what
?” C.B. said, sounding like he wanted to throttle her. “Maeve, I swear, if you've jeopardized—”

I didn't. The feedback loop will still shut down Trent and Lyzandra and all the other people so they'll think it's gone and they won't be able to do anything bad with it. It just won't shut down us.

“Us?” C.B. said. “You mean full telepaths?” and Briddey remembered that Maeve didn't know about Aunt Oona and the Daughters of Ireland, and then hastily quashed that thought so Maeve wouldn't hear it.

Apparently she didn't, because she said,
Yeah. You and me and Briddey. Don't worry. I got rid of the bad parts and just kept the nice stuff.

“What do you mean the bad parts?” C.B. demanded.

You
know, the scary voices. I shut them down and made it so they can't ever come back, but I kept everything else. It's okay. Nobody else'll know about it. They won't even know it exists.

“And how exactly did you do this?”

I took the stuff you did and put it behind a firewall and then disabled…I'm not sure I can explain it to you. It's kind of complicated. But don't worry, it works really good,
she said, and was gone.

C.B. didn't try to call her back. “Oh, my God,” he said. “If she's been fooling around with the program and messed it up…come on!” He grabbed Briddey's hand and started back through the blackness toward the door.

“We don't have to go back through the whole maze, do we?” she asked, trying to keep up with him.

“No, of course not. You
do
know we've been in my lab the entire time, right?”

“Yes,” she said, though that wasn't strictly true—the illusion had been so complete. And still was. When they reached the door and C.B. opened it onto his lab, she blinked against the sudden light, and it took her a minute to adjust to the idea that she was actually standing by the lab table, looking down at the smartphone/jammer, not walking through the doorway from his inner sanctum.

It was a minute that cost her. During it, C.B. had shut the door behind them, and it had returned to being the wall with the pinup of Hedy Lamarr on it, which meant she'd missed her chance to see what his inner sanctum had been.

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