The Lightcap (23 page)

Adam nodded.  He stayed still and slowly counted down from thirty while Pavel walked away from him.  When he reached zero, he proceeded in the same direction, shoulders down and hood up, pressed against the diagonal rain.  He made his way down the stairs slowly, his feet placed on each step with purpose.  Adam was fairly certain he could see the top of Pavel’s head.  He watched as Pavel boarded the car of a train that had just arrived.  Adam reached the platform as the loudspeaker broke out with the sound of a pleasant male voice saying, “Please stand clear of the closing doors.”

The doors usually stayed open for thirty seconds.  Adam hadn’t counted, but he was sure they’d been open for barely half that time.  As the doors started to close, hidden pneumatic pistons hissing along their paths, Adam sprinted for the opening.  He arrived just before the rubber gaskets touched, his left hand shoving between the gleaming steel doors.  He pushed through the seam to find his progress ended by the blanket-wrapped katana diagonally spanning his back, stuck outside of the car.  The doors were designed not to reopen, otherwise the trains would never be on time.  The pressure wasn’t getting any worse, but the doors didn’t open to allow entry.  Adam was stuck half in, half out.  That was not a good way to go unnoticed.

Thinking quickly, Adam braced his feet against the floor, pushed into the door behind him with his back, then heaved against the door pressed down on his chest.  The doors parted enough for him to angle his body inward, and he fell with a loud smack onto the dirty car floor, his right foot still caught in the door.  Adam watched through the glass as his shoe popped off and landed noiselessly on the platform as his bare foot pulled through the doors. 
Smooth
, Adam thought as he got to his feet. 
At least I still have the sword.

Missing a shoe and red with embarrassment, Adam found a place to stand.  He was afraid a seated position would give away the outline of the katana under his jacket.  Adam scanned the car for Pavel until his eyes came to rest on the familiar hood of the old man’s jacket, his face partially obscured by shadow.  A slight bow of the head indicated the doctor noticed him as well.  They rode in silence, the passengers’ heads stuck in readers, under domes, or asleep, all rocking in unison with the subway car as it screamed along the rail, linked by shared rhythm.

Eventually the wheels ground against their brakes and the train came to a halt at their stop.  Adam watched to make sure Pavel left with the rush of those disembarking, then followed, distant but close enough to see the old man stepping around slower people ascending the stairs.  He was surprised at Troyka’s speed and agility for his age and his medium height.  Adam’s long legs struggled to keep up, despite long strides. 

Up the stairs and onto the street, Adam managed to keep pace twenty meters behind, even as the aged man weaved between groups of slower pedestrians.  Adam breathed with sharp pains as his lungs expanded, the cold air and moisture from the air replaced by heat from the core of his body.  He watched a few breaths disappear forever.  The rain fell stronger on his hood than it had when they left Pavel’s.  Every few minutes he’d pass someone carrying an umbrella being hit by rain.  The sound of water against taut fabric reminded Adam of the sound of static.

Adam saw motion out of the corner of his eye as he passed one of the umbrella holders, a plump man whose shoulder he had brushed in his attempt to get through.  The man grabbed him as he passed, asking, “Adam?”  Adam turned to see the pink, round face of Nate Taylor, his old boss.  “I thought it was you!” Nate said with pleasure.  “How have you been?  Still working upstairs?”

Damn it,
Adam thought, aware he had to respond.  There was no way to know if there had been rumors or even an official memo passed down to workers at Nate’s managerial level.  Adam cracked a smile, hoping his eyes didn’t betray the raw panic he felt inside, and replied, “Sure am.  You’re coming in awfully early, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Nate sighed, “my team has to come in earlier these days.  Roman has us pulling double duty, working mesh security for both Adaptech and Metra Corp.  There have been a few blips lately that require the attention of my team, so I’m putting in some long hours myself.  I’m salary.  What can you do?” Nate asked with a resigned shrug.

Adam flicked his eyes across the backs of the crowd to look for Pavel, who was nowhere to be seen.  They were almost to the building.  Adam would have to find some way to extricate himself from the conversation with Nate.  The plump man’s pace was roughly half that of Pavel’s, which had slowed Adam down considerably.  He realized Nate had turned toward him as they walked.  Before Adam had a chance to respond, the shorter man looked him up and down and asked, “Adam, did you realize you’re missing a shoe?”

Silence.  During times such as these, Adam wished he were a better liar.  Since his lies were about as convincing as the pitch of a door-to-door insurance salesman, he decided to go with honesty.  “That noticeable, eh?  I was hoping to get away with it for the day, what with my feet under the desk and all.  I was running late for the subway, thought it’d be a good idea to squeeze through the doors as they were closing.  I made it, but one of my shoes wasn’t as lucky.” 

They reached the corner where Adam had to split off to get to the loading dock.  He still hadn’t seen any trace of Pavel.  He stopped.  Nate did the same.  Adam said, “I was going to go in through the back loading dock, take the stairs, try and prevent anyone else noticing my embarrassing footwear situation.”  He tried to laugh with carefree abandon, but his throat was so dry from anxiety it came out as more of a choking cough.

Nate looked at Adam inquisitively.  “Oh, you have an access code for the back?”

Adam struggled to clear his throat, hoping it wasn’t outwardly obvious he was shocked.  The intelligence on the building from LaMont’s files suggested the loading dock was the weakest point of entrance with abysmal security.  Rather than lie, Adam opted for a half-truth.  “Access code?  Didn’t know they put in an access code.”

“Yeah, about two months back.  Several memos were sent out, didn’t you read them?”  Nate seemed innocently amused.

No one ever read the memos.  There were just too many, and there was too much other work to be done.  In Adam’s case, maybe they had given it to him when he was wearing the blasted Lightcap, or during one of the mind-numbing status meetings, if they had given it to him at all.  His memory wasn’t what it used to be.  “Sure didn’t,” Adam replied.  “Got a stack of memos on my desk almost a foot high, need to catch up.  I know you understand that.  Can you help me out?  Our little secret?” He smiled grimly, pleadingly, convinced Nate would say no.

The look on the pudgy man’s face was one of shock, as if he didn’t immediately know how to respond.  Adam was surprised, however, when Nate chuckled and said, “Why the hell not?  I like you enough, and I know you’re not the sort to do anything untoward.  I was against the changes anyway, since all the floors where people work on anything confidential are access-controlled.” 

They walked the remaining steps in silence.  Adam was sure this was some kind of trap, that Blues would be waiting for him when they arrived around the corner, but they made it to the other end of the building without being stopped.  There was still no sign of Pavel, and Adam didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for him to show up.  The loading dock was completely empty, and they encountered no resistance on their way into the building.  Having one of the managers from the security division probably helped.

The Security Software department was on the 5
^th
floor.  They took the stairs together, Nate’s face even more red by the end, his breaths drawn in soft gasps.  “Hey, thanks for doing me this favor,” Adam said as they paused at the door to Nate’s floor.  “I really appreciate it.”

“No sweat,” Nate said, wiping his brow.  “Well, maybe a
little
sweat.”  He laughed, then disappeared into the nondescript halls of Adaptech.  An anxious silence settled over the stairwell after he left.  Adam went up one flight of stairs, waited for about five minutes to ensure no one was going to ambush him, then went back down to the ground level.

Adam was relieved to see Pavel standing nonchalantly behind a shrink-wrapped pallet when he opened the door.  Pavel jogged over to join him, then said, “I am glad you met a friend.  Fortuitous circumstance.  I figured I’d stay out of sight and see if he let you in, or if it was a trap.  Glad it worked out.”  Adam wasn’t sure what Pavel would have done if it had been a trap, but he felt it better to let the subject drop as they began their long ascent, his stomach churning.

Around the 30
^th
floor, Adam began to wonder how Pavel kept going.  Adam’s legs were already on fire, and burned more with each step. 
This is what happens when a cubicle monkey tries to climb a tree,
thought Adam, cursing his past excuses for not joining a gym.  After the 60
^th
floor, he made Pavel stop.  Rather, the old doctor stopped because Adam was clearly distressed, his hands on his knees, his breath coming in desperate gulps. 

“Need a minute.  Knees hurt.  Not happy,” Adam said, between each sharp inhalation. 

The old man smiled.  Adam couldn’t help but detect a hint of pride in the corners of his eyes.  Pavel seemed to be in much better shape.  If the situation were reversed, Adam would probably have been proud of himself too.  The younger man was too tired even to pant by the time they reached the 130
^th
floor, and resorted to pulling himself up by the railing until his arms gave out then pushing himself up on the stairs until his legs gave out again.  Adam switched back and forth in this way for the rest of the climb, which left him with arms and legs feeling like jelly by the time they stopped at the locked stairwell door on the 155
^th
floor to wait for Aria.

Pavel and Adam sat down together at the stairway door that led to the access-controlled upper floors.  Adam slid down the wall, put his hands on his knees, and took deep breaths until he felt strength returning to his limbs.  Pavel cracked his back and fingers, then yawned.  He had climbed the stairs with relative ease, though keeping pace with Adam had probably made the climb slightly less difficult for him.  They waited in uncomfortable silence for several minutes, until they heard movement on the other side of the door. 

The door pushed open toward them.  It was Aria.  Her eyes seemed sunken, set against puffy eyelids and dark circles on the underside.  She looked as if she was very tired, had been crying, or both.  Her eyes met theirs and she said simply, “Let’s go.”  They followed her up the remaining flights of stairs.  When they reached the top floor, home of room 4C, Aria turned to Adam and asked, “Did you bring it?”

“Yep,” he replied, turning slightly to show her the diagonal line across his back, under the jacket.

“Good.  See you there.”  With that she was gone, going to meet up with the rest of the team.  Pavel and Adam walked up the remaining two flights to the roof access level, settled in, and prepared to spend the next two hours waiting for the second helicopter trip from Adaptech to Metra Corp.  They tried to talk to one another, but even when they spoke in hushed whispers the sounds of their voices bounced around the polished walls of the stairwell, making them feel nervous at the risk of being exposed.

The time passed uneventfully.  Adam jumped several times, alarmed by some sound from far below on the stairwell or from outside on the roof.  He could not shake the foreboding feeling that each creak and groan was a prelude to capture, and the longer they waited, the more anxious he felt.  He nervously cracked his neck and back, the pop of his joints amplified by the silence of the stairwell, and doubted his own ability to take much more waiting.

Pavel eventually looked at his wrist, his attention drawn by the soft vibration of his watch, its near-silent alarm alerting them that two hours had passed.  Pavel’s wrinkled face seemed to age fifty years in a moment, then he turned to Adam and said, “It’s time.”  The old man stood, turned his back on Adam, and pushed against the crash bar.  Wind and rain rushed into the stairwell as the door opened to the roof.

Adam immediately missed his shoe as soon as they stepped onto the roof, the gravel crunching under one foot but producing shocks of pain in the other.  He let out an involuntary yelp.  Pavel turned to look at him, then pressed his lips together disapprovingly and shook his head slightly.  They continued, and Adam tried not to wince each time his right foot made contact with the ground.

The duo made their way across the roof, their view of the landing platform blocked out each time they ducked behind a large cooling unit.  The helicopter was there, perpendicular to their line of approach, idling.  On the other side of the helicopter they could see the legs of workers and wheels of carts carrying boxes of cargo for transport to Metra Corp.  As they drew closer, Adam could make out the face of the pilot as he looked down and checked instruments on his panel. 

When Pavel and Adam reached the wall separating them from the raised landing pad, Pavel shrugged his backpack off his shoulders.  Calmly and efficiently, he opened the backpack and pulled out two hooks and a bundle of rope.  With practiced motions, the old man connected the hooks to the ropes, handed one to Adam, then spun his own faster and faster until it emitted a slight whistle next to him.  He aimed, timed, and released his hook, watching it sail in an arc and land with a
clink
against the edge of the raised platform.  They heard it scrape against the cement platform’s floor as Pavel pulled the rope taut, testing its grip.

Adam tried to repeat Pavel’s movements, only to end up sending the hook on a line drive straight ahead.  It hit the wall in front of them with a loud boom, thankfully obscured by the helicopter’s spinning rotors.  When Adam failed again on his second attempt, the older man grabbed the hook and rope.  Adam, humiliated, watched as Pavel quickly wrapped them up and stashed them back in his bag, chuckling at Adam.  Pavel then scurried up the rope and disappeared over the ledge for a moment, reappearing to extend his hand to assist Adam’s climb.