Devoted - Merritt's Story 2 - Chapter 22

Woot, new chapter!  I hope you enjoy the back-to-back updates!  But alas, I now have to catch up on other DOTU-related obligations (rewards, next page, etc.), so the next chapter will come with the usual wait.  I'm aiming for mid-May.

Monthly $5 letters and the Secret Gallery illustration will come a few days after the end of the month, primarily due to a big carpal-tunnel-inducing freelance job I'm wrapping up by Friday.  We'll also have the next DOTU update on Monday!

And now, the new chapter!  As usual, you can read it inline or download the attached PDF.

[Table of Contents]

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Chapter 22

By the time Merritt opened his eyes and peered up from beneath the deck of an abandoned two-flat at the business district’s border, the sun-simulating lights blared bright through the gaps between the wood planks overhead. It was morning.

He felt like he’d been run over by an entire motorcycle gang. Two poisonings in one night, and the drugs were probably both still working their way out of his system. He felt ill and nauseated, but at least he could move. If not for his years in the military undergoing poison resistance treatments, he’d have fared worse, even with the benefit of Archer’s immunizations.

“You’re in deeper shit than a rat in a sub-Lincoln Square sewer.”

Merritt snapped to action before his brain could process the sound of the familiar voice. He reached for a poison vial at his right hip, only to find his entire pack gone. He held up his fists, readying for a fight even though he barely had the space to kneel upright.

Seated in the shadowy corner a few feet away, illuminated only in stripes through the deck’s flooring above, was Balbo. She held up Merritt’s poison packs and weapons and said with a cocky smile, “I had a feeling you’d wake up disoriented and try to attack me.”

Merritt didn’t relax his battle stance. “Show me your palms,” he ordered.

Balbo looked puzzled, but she set down his packs and held up her bare hands. They were unmarred.

With a sigh of relief, Merritt lowered his fists. “I knew it wouldn’t be you. You just startled me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

Rather than explain, Merritt asked, “What time is it?”

“Quarter past eight, sir. Saturday morning.”

Damn. He’d slept for ten hours. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Ellis came to me at Station 1 last night, sir. He said he was being watched by shady-looking people on the street, and he suspected something was up. He tried to contact you and got no reply. He knew he’d be followed if he tried to find you, so he asked me to track your tie in the control room. Good thing you gave me clearance. I found you here, obviously poisoned.” She pointed at the deck above their heads. “I have a few Chem Ops squads scattered throughout the business district, keeping watch.”

With a weary sigh, Merritt muttered, “I’d venture to guess at least a dozen people are trying to track my location right now.”

“But I beat them to it. Military ties can only be tracked at Station 1, and only with the proper clearance. As soon as I found you, I got Squad 269 up to some tie switching. You’re wearing Nicolet’s tie now. And if anyone tries to track your real chip, they’ll find a dapper demon statue in the West’s red light district, tie on and dick out.”

“Uh… thanks.” Merritt rubbed his aching head. He really was grateful, but he couldn’t help wondering which statue his squad had picked. “Is Ellis all right?”

“He’s carrying on, business as usual. Pretending to relax and enjoy his day off.”

Poor Ellis. Merritt couldn’t help feeling guilty for robbing him of yet another day off.

He turned on his phone to check for messages from Ellis and was greeted by sixteen missed calls from Belmont and fourteen texts. The first texts issued a firm order for him to return to his quarters, stating sternly that they’d talk tomorrow. Next, an hour-long gap, followed by a string of texts pleading for him to reply, each line increasing in desperation. The final text reverted to cold and authoritative, with a threat to trace his coordinates if he didn’t respond. Merritt wasn’t worried. Balbo had taken care of his tie, and he’d hacked into his phone to disable geolocation ages ago.

He ignored every message. He couldn’t afford to devote a single second to thoughts of Belmont. If he did, he risked breaking down.

Belmont had lied to him, tried to manipulate him, then drugged him. All this after Merritt had finally grown sure that he could trust Belmont with anything.

On the other hand, Belmont had tried to stop him from running outside, and when he’d run out anyway, he’d been attacked. He wanted to cling to the belief that Belmont had been trying to protect him from something. But he was afraid of what cracks might emerge if he allowed himself to test that theory.

He looked down at Belmont’s tie clip on Nicolet’s tie and contemplated tossing it aside. But he couldn’t even bear to think about it. Not yet.

He could only afford to think about one thing: the missing kids. He’d maintain laser focus until he tracked them down. After that, he’d worry about Belmont.

He found three texts from Ellis, each a coded phrase checking to see if Merritt was all right, and escalating in urgency. Merritt typed in a quick affirmative reply and returned to his list of messages.

No missed calls from Devon—not that it surprised him. Merritt was fairly sure Belmont had told Devon not to comply with Merritt’s order to check the North’s surveillance videos. If Merritt called him back, he’d risk being traced.

Balbo squinted at him in the darkness. “Will you tell me what happened, sir?”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to get Balbo involved, but if she was using her troops to protect him, he owed her at least enough information to help her do her job. “Balbo, how often do you see East Sphere cargo bikes deep in the North Sphere?”

“You’re telling me the East Sphere has its own cargo bikes?” Balbo asked. “Cargo bikes all look the same to me, sir.”

“That’s what everyone says,” Merritt muttered. If only he were still in close contact with the motorcycle enthusiasts of his childhood. If the East had been kidnapping North Sphere orphans for years, they’d probably counted on the fact that the average citizen wouldn’t recognize an East Sphere cargo bike. He turned to Balbo, unable to make out her expression in the darkness. “You grew up in sub-Albany Park, right? In the orphanage?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sub-Albany wasn’t a slum on the level of sub-Norwood. Most orphans there had enough of an inheritance to get into the military officers’ ranks or even escape the military entirely. “Did you have a lot of break-ins at the orphanage? Kidnappings?”

“Not while I was there, sir. I think there were a couple kidnappings over the past few years, but it wasn’t something that happened regularly.” She leaned forward. “What’s going on?”

“I witnessed a kidnapping last night, at the Norwood Orphanage. The kidnappers rode an East Sphere cargo bike. I chased them all the way into the business district, and I thought I saw them take refuge in a government building. But I was attacked before I could follow up.” He clenched his fists and tried his best to meet Balbo’s eyes in the darkness. “There could be blue-ties involved in this—high-ranking blue-ties. Maybe for personal reasons, or maybe they’re getting paid off. I don’t know who we can trust.”

“I won’t tell a soul, sir,” Balbo promised, as steadfast as if they were in the midst of battle. “But what do you plan to do? If elite blue-ties are after you, maybe your safest option is to make nice­—”

“No.” Merritt began crawling toward the opposite side of the deck, feeling for the loose wall slats that had given him entrance last night. “Those kids are still missing. I have to track them down and bring them back.”

Balbo didn’t argue, but Merritt suspected she would have if she’d still outranked him.

He crawled out from under the deck and brushed the dust and grit from his pants. Balbo followed close behind, straightened out her fighting jacket, and handed Merritt his packs and weapons. As Merritt armed himself, she asked, “What do you need from me, sir?”

“Have your active Chem Ops squads continue to keep watch. Have one of them follow me at a distance, as long as they can do it without rousing suspicion.” He glanced down at his bare arms. “And I’m going to need one of my jackets. Have someone leave it with Yackley in neutral territory, in an unmarked package.”

“Will do, sir.”

“And stay alert. They could go after you too now.”

“Noted, sir.”

He dismissed Balbo with a grateful nod, then covertly backtracked through the business district. The streets were clear—typical for a Saturday morning. He found his bike still obscured behind the pile of construction debris and examined it closely. Nothing appeared amiss.

He took the roughest back roads and unpaved tunnels up north, keeping out of public view. Balbo’s squad tailed him expertly, at a far enough distance that he could barely keep track of them.

Thoughts of the stolen children nagged at him as he rode. Unable to hold them off any longer, he pulled to a stop in a tight cave beside an abandoned fishing spot and placed a call to the Norwood Orphanage. After a brief, terse exchange, the caretaker in charge confirmed that six children had been missing during their morning headcount. She sounded resigned. Children went missing all the time, she explained, and the orphanage was powerless to recover them after the fact. She said that sometimes kids would reappear after weeks or months, disheveled and in poor health, but most of the time they disappeared for good.

Apparently, nothing had changed since Merritt was a kid. Most of the orphans who’d disappeared back then never came back either. Torrence had been one of the lucky ones.

He still suspected that the invaders had hidden in the government building at sub-State Street, but he had no proof. And now, half a day later, that bike could have gone anywhere.

He’d barely caught a glimpse of his attacker—only heard his voice in a rough whisper—and he’d been dizzy and disoriented at the time. The man had called him by name, and he’d expressed regret at having to kill him. He’d been roughly Merritt’s height but broader and heavier.

Too many people fit the bill. It could have even been a stranger who only knew his name from the news. 

Merritt needed to find out what was going on in that building. Had the people inside been held up by the East Sphere invaders, or were they in on it? He could only find out from someone above his level of clearance. But who could he turn to? Belmont was no longer an option—nor was anyone in the North Sphere Belmont could compromise. That ruled out practically everyone in the North.

Archer. Of course, she was the only other blue-tie he could trust. She ranked lower than Belmont, but she certainly never deferred to him. He still felt awkward going to her for a favor after their last sober interaction, but he was desperate. He sent her a text. Are you around? I need help with something urgent.

He received an immediate, automated response. Thank you for reaching out. I’m currently unavailable, but I’ll return your message as soon as I can.

Merritt knew what that meant. Archer was likely in the middle of a meeting, lab, or surgical procedure and wouldn’t be available for hours. Damn it. He couldn’t wait that long.

He considered calling Mercury, but after their last board meeting, he no longer believed he’d be welcome to call out of the blue for a situation that wasn’t a crystal clear threat. He would go to Mercury, but only after he had enough evidence to prove the matter was worth his King’s time.

If he couldn’t start with the government building, he’d start with the cargo bike. And if he couldn’t go to anyone in the North Sphere, he’d go to his allies on the outside.

He could hack the South’s surveillance feeds to try to find the bike, but he’d only be able to watch live video. He hadn’t figured out how to access the archives of past recordings. 75th was the master of the surveillance feeds. She wasn’t particularly receptive, but maybe if he went through Odell…?

It didn’t feel right to ask Odell for another favor. She’d already more than paid him back for his help years ago. He’d now be putting himself in debt. But she was the most powerful and trustworthy option he had.

It was worth a shot.

* * *

Odell stepped through the entrance of Soft Sloth Coffee at ten a.m. on the dot. Merritt sat at a corner table, freshly showered at the neighboring neutral gym. He’d shown up half an hour early to scarf down breakfast before Odell arrived.

As Merritt watched her approach, he couldn’t help but remember their last meeting at Soft Sloth, the popular South-owned café attached to a motorcycle service station in neutral territory. It felt like years ago when, after Higgins’s murder, Odell had devised a fake news bomb for him to use as blackmail against Belmont.

She spotted Merritt at the corner table and returned his smile. “It’s been a while since we last met here. I’m glad to see you’re not covered in bruises this time around.”

Merritt thought about that. It was true; last time, he’d come to her bruised and beaten, but this time he didn’t have a scratch on him. He’d bloodied Belmont’s nose, given him a probable shiner, and possibly knocked him out. Belmont had grabbed him and restrained him, but he hadn’t tried to deliver any blows.

On the other hand, Belmont had poisoned him.

No, he couldn’t dwell on Belmont. He shook the thoughts out of his head and exchanged pleasantries while Odell took a seat. Only after Odell took her first sip of coffee did Merritt finally clear his throat and admit, “I wish I could say this was just a social call, but I’m here to ask for a favor. I know this will put me in the red with you.”

Odell raised an eyebrow. “After the miracle you worked getting Mercury in on the West Sphere embargo, I’m inclined to at least hear you out. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Merritt nodded, his face serious. “I witnessed a kidnapping in sub-Norwood Park last night. I believe the culprits were from the East Sphere, and I chased them into the North’s business district, but then I lost track of them. I was hoping you might be able to check your surveillance feeds to see where they went.”

“This isn’t something your own sphere can help you with? You don’t have your own security?”

Merritt gritted his teeth. “I believe there’s a traitor within the North’s upper ranks. Until I know who it is, my best bet is to turn to my allies on the outside. Your video records would go a long way in helping me find out who’s involved.”

Odell raised her chin, pinning him with her shrewd gaze. “So you want me to go to my girlfriend and ask her to do you a favor.”

“It’s for a good cause,” Merritt replied with his best poker face. “It’s to protect some kids who can’t protect themselves.”

“Why not get your police force on it?”

“You know that’s not a reasonable ask,” Merritt replied, and Odell shrugged in concession.

The South was the only sphere where police could be called on behalf of an average citizen, and even then their authority was limited. In every other sphere, “crime” and “law” were abstract constructs. Citizens settled their own disputes—or hired for-profit “detectives” to strong-arm their foes. Merritt was forbidden by military code to call the Elite Border Guard’s police force for any matter that didn’t serve the elite.

“I’m the only one who can pursue this,” Merritt said after a long pause. “Or at least, I’m the only one who will.”

“You’re General of the North Sphere Army. You’re one of the greatest threats to my sphere now.”

“Or one of your most powerful foreign allies,” Merritt countered.

Odell sighed and ran a bony hand over her piled dreadlocks. “This is a tough one, Merritt. It was easier for me to help you when you were only a captain. Now you have enough power to literally obliterate my sphere. I just can’t give you the same blind support as before.”

“Whatever support you give me, you know I’d return it in kind. I came through for you with the West Sphere embargo, and I’d do it again.”

“You’re right,” Odell said with a sigh. “I know you, Merritt. You’re one of the good ones. The only problem is I’m not the one managing surveillance. This isn’t my domain.” She took a pensive sip of her coffee. After a moment’s consideration, she said, “How about this? 75th is actually here right now, getting her bike serviced next door. I’ll have her come over and talk to you, and you two can work out the deal yourselves. You don’t need me as a middleman.”

Merritt cringed. Oh, yes I do. “75th isn’t exactly a fan of mine. Any chance you can put in a good word?”

Odell laughed. “You’d think that 75th being my partner would give me power over her, but it’s exactly the opposite. If there’s anyone in the underground you want me to convince of something—or even coerce—I can probably help you out. But not her. I can secure a meeting for you—it’s the best I can do, and believe me, she doesn’t meet with just anyone. But I respect her mind and her freedom. So once she sits down with you, you’re on your own.” She rose to her feet and offered him a tentative smile. “But I will wish you the best of luck.”

Merritt returned her smile. He’d take any win he could get, and a meeting with 75th was a win.

Fifteen minutes later, 75th appeared behind the ceiling-high windows facing the neighboring service station. She carried a collapsible motorcycle helmet under her arm, and her usual dour frown only intensified when she spotted him. She was not the type to put on an artificial friendly face when in the company of people she didn’t like. In some ways, it was liberating for Merritt to know exactly where he stood with the person he was speaking to. But mostly he hated it.

He stood to greet her as she approached, but she ignored his attempt at a handshake. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered instead.

He could envision the pitiless glare she shot him even through her opaque sunglasses. “How about you stop wasting my time and get to the point?”

“All right.” Merritt squared his shoulders. “I’ve come to ask for your assistance, in exchange for whatever compensation you may request. I’m not sure how much Odell already told you—”

“She said you wanted a few minutes from my surveillance archives.”

Merritt nodded. “Yes. From last night, in the North Sphere business district. I witnessed a kidnapping, but we got separated in the chase, and I’m trying to track down the offenders. I can narrow it down to a specific street and time frame.”

“That’s not necessary,” 75th said, holding up her hand. “I can’t help you.”

Merritt gritted his teeth.

“I know everyone thinks you’re so sweet and so cute, and you’re used to women falling over themselves to help you. But things need to change now that you’re the North’s general. You can’t keep coming to us for help with your internal problems.”

Merritt couldn’t remember women ever falling over themselves to help him, but he knew better than to argue with 75th. “This isn’t an internal problem. The kidnappers were riding an East Sphere bike.”

75th paused for a moment, but this time Merritt couldn’t read her eyes behind her sunglasses. “That doesn’t change my point,” she said at last. “It’s a blue-tie problem, so don’t come to us birds asking for help.”

“Can’t you show a little sympathy?” Merritt asked, allowing the slightest bite in his tone. “They’re children. I know you don’t like me, but think about them. They’re innocent.”

“They’re only ‘innocent children’ for the next couple years. After that, they’re child soldiers training to kill me and my allies.” She sneered at him. “And don’t play those games with me, Merritt. Trying to manipulate me with sentimentality? We have a reputation in the South for taking in the needy, but we are not a charity.”

Merritt cleared his throat. Time for a change in tactics. “I understand that. I’m not asking you for charity. You’re right: I’m the North’s general. With my current position, there’s a lot I can offer in exchange for your service.”

“Nope. There’s nothing you can offer us.” 75th leaned back in her seat as if she was bored. “The South is a lot more powerful than most of you military guys assume. We don’t depend on the rest of you for survival the way you depend on each other. We don’t need you.”

Merritt knew a lost cause when he saw one. There was no point in trying to push it any further. With a courteous nod, he said, “I see. Thank you for your consideration.”

He waited for her to leave, but she didn’t get up right away. Instead, she leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “One more thing, Merritt,” she whispered threateningly. “I’m going to need you to stop hacking into my live feeds.”

Merritt summoned his poker face in a flash. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play with me.” She lowered her brows and curled her lip. “We’ve known for a long time that someone was hacking our feeds. After Odell and I ran into you at Yackley’s a few months back, I realized it was you. Odell tried to cover for you, bless her heart. She really does think you’re a good guy—as if such a thing exists. But we’ve been together for ten years. It doesn’t matter how good she is at fooling everyone else. She can’t fool me.”

Merritt held relentlessly to his poker face. It made no difference how much evidence 75th had against him. He wouldn’t show her his guilt. “I think there’s been a mix-up. I like computers—but I’m not good enough with them to hack the South, of all places.”

75th didn’t waver. “This is your one and only warning,” she growled. “And I’m only giving you a warning as a courtesy to Odell, because she thinks highly of you and I think highly of her. But if you ever try to hack into the South’s surveillance feeds again, you will regret it.”

She rose from the table and walked away, leaving Merritt with her threat still ringing in his ears.

* * *

As Merritt nursed his lukewarm tea, he contemplated his next move. Odell was his most powerful ally from a sphere with no stake in his investigation. Now that 75th had turned him down, he had to decide on his next move. Archer still hadn’t texted him back, and he suspected she wouldn’t until evening.

If the North and South couldn’t help him, he’d go straight for the enemy’s lair. There was no more time to waste.

He wanted to talk to Samsid, but he’d start with the highest rung on the ladder he could reach. He called Troy and requested a formal meeting. Troy reluctantly agreed to see him at the East Sphere’s public office on sub-Roosevelt Road, at the East-Neutral border. Balbo’s troops couldn’t follow him across the border, so he’d have to be vigilant.

He thought about the poison attack he’d survived last night. He couldn’t think of many people who’d both want to kill him and express regret over it, but Troy fit the bill. He was from the East Sphere, and he had a certain fondness for Merritt despite being an enemy.

On the other hand, Troy was a seasoned fighter. He wouldn’t have ducked and run after a simple cut to the hand, would he?

Maybe he would have. Samsid was desperate for Mercury’s help overthrowing King Cannon. If Troy were caught attempting to assassinate the North’s general, surely that would jeopardize Samsid’s diplomatic efforts.

If Troy was his attacker, he’d find out soon enough.

He couldn’t meet a rival general out of uniform. He stopped at Yackley’s, hoping his jacket had been delivered. When he arrived at the neutral territory bar, Yackley waved him over and, despite wearing a disgruntled frown, handed over the brown paper package. Yackley then looked him up and down and said, half-joking, “Whatever it is you’re getting yourself into, I want no part of it. I’m not your mule, kiddo.”

“Sorry, Yackley,” Merritt replied, tearing the package open. “I was desperate, and I knew I could trust you to be as neutral as always.” He unearthed a clean general’s jacket and pulled it on.

Yackley squinted through the glasses perched at the end of his nose. “That’s it?” he asked, looking disappointed. “You’re having your laundry delivered to my bar? I thought it would at least be something juicy.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll have juicier things for you in the future,” Merritt replied with an uneasy laugh. He waved over his shoulder. “See you later, Yackley.”

“You won’t have anything juicy,” Yackley razzed him as he walked away. “You’re juiceless. You’re plain. You’re water!”

Merritt couldn’t help but chuckle as he left the bar.

The trip down to the East-Neutral border only took a few minutes. Merritt never felt comfortable in the East Sphere. He was used to the grime, dust, and debris of the North Sphere slums, but the East’s filth rose to another level. The public office on the border road sported bare concrete floors with moist rivulets of brown running from every corner. More sepia sludge dripped from the seams where the exposed, rusty pipes met the walls and ceilings. Some of the holes in the brick walls were large enough to fit Merritt himself, if not for the spiderwebs stretched over the openings like stitches across the ass of torn old boxer shorts. Through the holes, Merritt could see more rotting pipework and cobwebs thick enough to hang a convict. Even the North’s roughest slums were cleaner than the East’s public offices.

The cramped office had a reception desk, but no receptionist. Merritt stood waiting in the barely lit room, wondering when Troy would arrive. He felt a phantom itch on the back of his neck and shrugged uncomfortably, trying not to think about how many insects were likely nestled in the cracks and crevices all around him.

He received another text from Belmont as he waited. I’m at your quarters. Come home. We NEED to talk. He shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Troy arrived after five minutes, looking clean-cut and imposing in contrast to his decrepit surroundings. At the sight of his discerning ice-blue eyes, Merritt had to fight back the uncomfortable memory of their last encounter at the gala—that weird, desperate energy he’d felt when Troy had said he wished he had a soldier as devoted to him as Merritt was to his superiors. 

Fortunately, today Troy was all business. He peered across the room at Merritt as if that night had never happened. “You got here fast,” he said.

“I rode in from neutral territory.” Merritt snuck a quick glance at Troy’s hands in search of a knife wound, but they were shoved in the pockets of his usual black trench coat. Since East Sphere citizens didn’t shake hands in greeting, he couldn’t offer his hand as a way to get Troy to reveal his.

After another moment, Troy pulled his right hand out of his pocket and gestured for Merritt to follow him down the hall. But what about his left? Merritt remembered slashing a left hand. He tried another glance as he passed, but he couldn’t see anything.

Troy led him into an adjacent office, where they sat on either side of a bare desk. A visible layer of dust coated the top; it didn’t surprise Merritt that desks in the East got little use. Troy leaned forward and set his elbows on the scuffed metal surface. “All right. What brings you here?”

Merritt wore a stern expression as he met Troy’s eyes. “We have a problem, Troy. Last night, East Sphere citizens crossed into my sphere on a cargo bike and kidnapped six children from our orphanage in sub-Norwood Park.”

Troy looked taken aback. He scrunched his bald eyebrows together incredulously. “Why would they do that?”

“You would know better than I would. That’s why I came to you. Return the kids, and there will be no problems for your sphere.”

“I represent the East’s military. Sounds like you’re talking about civilians. What does this have to do with the military?”

“You’re claiming no responsibility for the illegal actions of your citizens in another sphere’s territory?”

Troy threw up his hands in aggravation, flashing two pristine palms. “You’re damn right I’m not. I told you, Merritt: I’m military. East Sphere military don’t kidnap people. Sounds like red-sashes to me.”

Troy had a point. The West was the only sphere with a known history of kidnapping children, usually for the sex trade. But the West had just agreed to bar use of underage dogs, and they were currently under intense scrutiny by the South to make sure they complied. This was hardly the time for them to stock up on kids.

“I witnessed the kidnapping myself,” Merritt said. “I know an East Sphere bike when I see one. This was no West Sphere job.”

“You witnessed it?” Troy asked. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What time was this supposed kidnapping?”

“Around nine o’clock last night.”

“Little early to be pulling sneaky shit, don’t you think?”

“It just happened to be at the same time as the East Sphere’s biggest sport fight of the year. Everyone in sub-Norwood goes to those fights. Those kidnappers knew no one would be around. And if they were from the East Sphere, they probably even had ticket sales records to confirm who would and wouldn’t be in town.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Troy said. “Say it was some East Sphere thug. If it wasn’t an East Sphere military thug, I can’t help you. You say you saw an East Sphere bike. Was it an East Sphere military bike?”

“I can’t say it wasn’t. East Sphere cargo bikes are indistinguishable from one another.”

Troy narrowed his eyes. He looked surprisingly offended. “You know what, Merritt? I’m getting a little sick of you accusing my soldiers of kidnapping. ‘Cause it’s not something we do.”

Merritt suddenly realized he’d completely misread Troy’s hard-edged demeanor. It wasn’t professionalism. It wasn’t that Troy had set aside their encounter at the gala. Rather, Merritt could see that the memory was fresh in Troy’s mind, and now he was overcompensating, replacing his open arms with open hostility. But Merritt wouldn’t let Troy intimidate him. “The East Sphere prides itself on being a military sphere. Who in the East is more powerful than you, other than Cannon and Samsid? Even if it wasn’t a soldier who committed the act, it’s still someone under your umbrella.”

“I don’t have time for civilians, Merritt. I don’t care about ‘em. You want to talk about civilians? I’ll send you to Samsid. He’ll be happy to talk civilians with you.”

By Troy’s tone, it sounded like he’d meant it as a threat, but this was exactly what Merritt had wanted—and he hadn’t even had to fight for it.

Merritt thought back to the cargo biker’s impressive riding, then to the tabloid he’d read in the medical office. He didn’t want to believe the man he’d looked up to for years could be involved in a kidnapping. But if Samsid wasn’t in on it, he might be the one underground citizen to show concern for a handful of kidnapped ace children. Either way would get Merritt closer to an answer. He returned his poker face to Troy. “Just tell me where and when.”

* * *

When Merritt returned to Yackley’s Booze and Drugs, he spotted Samsid at the pool table playing against Jordana, the grape-pelting, foul-mouthed explosives expert Merritt had run into at the gala. Something she’d said just before he arrived had Samsid laughing so hard a few of the other patrons turned to stare. Samsid looked relaxed in the same way that Merritt had seen him at the gala but nowhere else in years.

Back when Samsid was a motorcycle racer and a rising star in the East’s military, when Merritt had first begun to idolize him, he was brash and cocky and playful, with a wicked sense of humor. Merritt had enjoyed watching him compete in racing tournaments, but the icing on the cake was whenever Merritt managed to catch a televised interview of him. His smile was magnetic. He was someone Merritt would have loved to have as an ally, a friend, a leader.

Samsid didn’t smile on the news anymore. Interviewers no longer asked him about his latest racing win. Instead they asked why his soldiers, under Cannon’s leadership, were resigning in droves. Being Cannon’s right hand was slowly sucking the life out of him, and Mercury’s behind-the-scenes manipulations hadn’t made things any better.

But now, absorbed in his game with Jordana, he looked content and carefree. He didn’t look like he was concerned about his upcoming meeting with Merritt, and he didn’t handle his pool cue like a man who’d just had his palm slashed open. Maybe he wasn’t Merritt’s attacker—but that didn’t mean he was uninvolved or uninformed. Merritt could only learn more through careful, strategic interrogation.

Out of courtesy, he waited for Samsid and Jordana to finish their game of pool. The more he observed, the more he felt like the nerd watching the cool kids and wishing he could be part of their clique. Everything about them seemed easy and natural—qualities beaten out of blue-ties at an early age.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, and an incoming text popped up. Belmont again. Still waiting at your place. COME HOME SO WE CAN TALK. Merritt put his phone away.

When the pool game finally wrapped up, Jordana swung her pool cue and gave Samsid a whack on the back of the head that looked murderous but was probably considered playful by East Sphere standards. Then she tossed Samsid the stick and headed for the bar. Samsid turned and spotted Merritt, and Merritt had never seen a smile turn so quickly into a frown. He almost flinched at the sight.

“Troy told me you were comin’,” Samsid said, chalking up his cue. “What do you want?”

“I’m following a lead on a kidnapping of six children from our orphanage in sub-Norwood Park, by East Sphere invaders.”

With a mocking smirk, Samsid asked, “The fuck are you doin’ that for? What are you? Police? I thought you were a military general.”

“This matter hits a little close to home. I grew up in the Norwood Orphanage, and I also witnessed the kidnapping.”

Samsid gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I get it. You’re the only one in your sphere who cares that a bunch of orphans were stolen. No one else would go lookin’ for ‘em, would they?”

“I was hoping you would care,” Merritt said, stone-faced.

Samsid adjusted the buckle-adorned armbands that denoted his status as second in command. “Why would I care?”

“Because you know what it’s like to be one of them.”

Samsid’s brilliant eyes narrowed.

“You’ve always stood up for your sphere’s aces and twos. That’s one of the things I respect about you the most. You protect the people who can’t protect themselves, even when everyone in the underground says they’re worthless and labels you an ace lover. And I think it’s because you grew up in an orphanage in the slums—you were even attacked there, just like these kids—so you know better. You were able to beat the odds, and now you’re using your power to help the people who are still at the bottom, and I think that’s the most admirable—”

In a lightning-fast sweep, Samsid grabbed Merritt by the throat and slammed him down onto the pool table. Merritt’s vision darkened for a moment. He heard several startled cries nearby, followed by a growing chant of, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” led by Jordana.

Samsid leaned over him, their faces only inches apart. Barely audible above the raucous noise of the bar’s patrons, he growled, “Have you been diggin’ around for dirt about me?” He gave Merritt a hard shake. “You do not come to me in a public place and start talkin’ to me about the way I grew up. You keep that shit to yourself, you fuckin’ creepy-ass stalker. Do you hear me?”

Merritt flashed back to the first time he’d spoken to Samsid, after his altercation with Belmont in the Yackley’s stairwell. Samsid had derided him for being a soldier who wouldn’t defend himself.

This was a test. He wasn’t high enough in rank to touch Samsid without permission—but he knew Samsid wouldn’t respect him if he didn’t fight back.

Holding Samsid’s wrist as leverage, he flipped his legs up between his face and Samsid’s, then trapped Samsid’s arm between his thighs. Pool balls scattered across the table as he stretched out his body into an armbar. He wrenched on Samsid’s arm, threatening to snap bone. Samsid sucked in a startled breath and yanked his arm free in the nick of time, losing his armband.

Despite Samsid’s scowl, Merritt knew he’d made the right move by fighting back. But damn, those buckles hurt. He tried his best not to wince.

With a gesture toward the pool table, Samsid joked, “Ya just sunk six balls.”

“And scratched two,” Merritt said, awkwardly pulling Samsid’s armband out from between his thighs and handing it back to him.

Samsid snorted with unexpected laughter. Then he quickly regained his composure and snatched his armband. “A stalker with skills. Fine.” He unbuckled each of the five straps, pulled the armband back over his forearm, and redid the buckles.

As was often the case with East Sphere citizens, the air felt clearer between them in the wake of their physical altercation. But Merritt sensed Samsid might try to duck out of their conversation, so he stepped forward, blocking Samsid’s path of escape. “I would really appreciate your cooperation, Samsid. This isn’t the first time kids have gone missing from the Norwood Orphanage. Chasing after kidnappers might not be my job as general, but maintaining favorable relations with your sphere is. If your sphere returns those kids, I won’t cause any problems for you. But if not… well, I’d hate to see this matter escalate to the point of conflict.”

“How would it ever ‘escalate to the point of conflict’? No one else from your sphere cares.” Samsid raised an eyebrow. “Does Mercury know you’re here, talkin’ to me?”

“I’m high enough in rank to conduct my own investigations independent of Mercury’s approval,” Merritt said.

“Oh, I’m sure he gives you a ton of freedom. I’m sure he even lets you out for a run without your leash sometimes—as long as he’s a few feet away watchin’ you.”

Merritt pressed his lips together, fighting back his indignation. “I was an orphan ace just like you, and now I’m General of the North Sphere Army. Mercury respects me more than you think he does.”

“Orphan ace,” Samsid repeated. “So that’s the token you are.” Merritt used all his discipline to avoid taking the bait, but Samsid plowed ahead anyway. “That’s his game, you know. He takes one token from every group of people he hates, he treats ‘em special, puts ‘em on a pedestal, and then he holds ‘em up as proof that everyone gets a fair shake in the North—because the North is a meritocracy.” He snorted with derision.

“I earned my position,” Merritt replied coldly.

“No one earns anything under Mercury,” Samsid countered. “I’m not sayin’ you don’t deserve to be general. But you were only ever gonna get what Mercury decided to give you. And now he can point to you as proof that all aces can rise, if only they worked harder and served better.” He turned back to the pool table and started racking up the balls. “He did the same thing with your doctor friend, Archer. Only woman to ever get a seat in his boardroom, right? But at least she’s smart enough to see the game he’s playin’. She’s even learned the rules. You, on the other hand….” He curled his lip. “You haven’t learned anythin’, have you?”

“Here’s what I’ve learned,” Merritt said. “I’ve learned that you’d rather deflect attention onto my relationship with my King than explain why your men invaded my sphere and stole six innocent children. You may think Mercury doesn’t take me seriously, but when I report back to him that East Sphere invaders occupied a high-security government building to hide from me when I pursued them, he will take that breach seriously.”

“Now you lost me,” Samsid said. “You say you chased these kidnappers and they disappeared into a government building that only North Sphere elites can get into?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

Samsid scoffed. “Then I think you already got your perps.”

Merritt folded his arms, unimpressed. “I already know there are blue-ties involved in this. But that’s not my concern right now. I’m looking for the mastermind, not the lackeys.”

“And I’m sayin’ you got it backwards.” Samsid folded his muscular arms. “Every sphere has its way of gettin’ rid of its undesirables. You really think some armband is orchestratin’ this? You think anyone in the East Sphere would waste their time goin’ all the way to fuckin’ sub-Norwood Park, just to steal a bunch of parasites that aren’t even worth anything to their own King?” He rolled his eyes. “If something’s happenin’ to a bunch of kids that your sphere didn’t want in the first place, then maybe you should look at your sphere.”

Without giving Merritt a chance to respond, Samsid turned away and headed for the bar.

* * *

Try as he might, Merritt could think of nothing to refute Samsid’s accusation against the North Sphere. The only evidence Merritt had to support the idea that the kidnappers were from the East was that their bike looked like an East Sphere bike, and the biker looked to be wearing East Sphere gear. But those things could have been easily bought or faked. Harder to fake was the ability to make it all the way to the Norwood Orphanage without sounding any alarms, the rider’s obvious knowledge of the North’s side roads and back alleys, and their ability to get into a government building undetected. Whether or not East Sphere lackeys were involved, the mastermind was looking more and more like a blue-tie.

“We don’t turn our kids into dogs,” Merritt had said while he and Belmont were discussing the West Sphere embargo. Belmont had replied, “Maybe they’d be better off if we did.” He knew something. But was he involved? Did he have control over it?

And how far up did it go? Belmont had gone to extreme lengths to prevent Merritt from contacting Mercury. Whatever was happening, it seemed he didn’t want Mercury to know. Then again, Samsid seemed intent on implicating Mercury.

Merritt stepped out of the bar and checked his phone, finding that Archer had finally returned his text, probably around the time he was getting slammed on the pool table by Samsid. Come by my office. I’ll be here all day. Text when you get here, and I’ll let you in through the back.

Merritt let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a powerful blue-tie he could turn to. If he could trust no one else, he could trust Archer. She’d put her neck on the line for him before.

He rode out of neutral territory toward the water tunnel leading into the North Sphere. It was a remarkable structure—a clear, encased passage that ran through the currents diverted from the Chicago River up above. Riders could see fish and other marine life swimming around them as they passed. The tunnel was one of the highest points of the underground, and Merritt wondered how easy it would be for someone from the surface to break through.

His phone buzzed at his hip—the particular buzz pattern he’d assigned to Belmont. He skidded to a stop in the middle of the water tunnel and reached for his phone.

Belmont had texted a photo of the doorstep to Merritt’s quarters. Sitting on the welcome mat was a brown cardboard box with a needlessly large label and Merritt’s name spelled out in bold caps. One corner of the box was crushed and mangled so badly that the cardboard had torn. Hanging out from inside the box was an oversized, floppy dildo.

Beneath the photo, a new text from Belmont: Looks like you got a package. Better come home and take it inside before anyone sees it.

Merritt groaned out loud and lowered his face into his palm. “Oh my god, Belmont!” He wasn’t sure whether to panic or laugh.

He tried his best to get thoughts of Belmont out of his mind as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. But before he could kick off again, he heard the deafening rumble of an East Sphere motorcycle engine in the tunnel behind him—and approaching fast. He glanced over his shoulder and gasped in horror at the sight of Samsid barreling toward him.

Merritt trusted himself to outmaneuver most other riders, but not Samsid. He couldn’t get his bike running fast enough. His only choice was to ditch it.

He leapt off the bike as far as he could, rolled into a somersault, and stumbled away. Samsid closed in fast—aiming straight at the bike instead of the rider. A split-second before impact, he cranked his handles and swerved. His motorcycle hit the sphere signifier plate over Merritt’s engine at just the right angle to pop it off and knock it to the ground.

Samsid continued to ride forward, taking a wide arc until he stood between Merritt and his exit path. Gazing down as Merritt knelt on the ground, he said in a rough, threatening voice, “Watch yourself.”

Merritt squinted up at him, stunned. He waited for Samsid to either come at him again or drive off, but he did neither. Warily, Merritt rose to his feet and approached his motorcycle to inspect the damage.

His sphere plate lay facedown on the ground. He knelt to pick it up, only to gasp at the sight of his bike. Attached to the inside of the now-exposed mounting post was a tiny chip Merritt recognized instantly. A tracking chip.

“I got intel that all North Sphere military bikes are chipped,” Samsid said, just loud enough for Merritt to hear. “But no one bothers to track ‘em—until they have a reason to.”

Merritt looked back at Samsid, baffled. He shook his head with confusion. “I… I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know if you realize what you’re playin’ with,” Samsid replied, and though his tone was still rough, Merritt could tell he was earnest. “But I know you’re digging up shit you shouldn’t be digging in. And once your so-called allies find out, well….” He gave a wry chuckle. “If you’re the next one to go missing in the middle of the night, I’ll know why.”

Merritt remained silent. He was dumbfounded. Was Samsid… helping him?

Samsid raised his eyebrows in challenge. “I know why you don’t wanna see what’s right in front of you: because once you start pokin’ holes in all the things you believed in, everything’s gonna come crumblin’ down around you. But you don’t have to do that. You could just go home and forget about everything you saw—maybe grovel to Mercury a little—and things would probably go right back to normal for you.” 

Merritt pulled his knife out from his ankle strap. With a deep breath, he levered it under the chip and snapped it off.

Samsid gave an appraising nod. “You got more guts than I gave you credit for. Fuck—I think I’m startin’ to like you.” He kicked off, rode around in a circle, and turned back toward neutral territory. Glancing over his shoulder, he called, “Don’t get yourself killed,” and shot down the tunnel out of sight.

* * *

Merritt was on his guard when he reached Archer’s private office at the chem lab. As requested, he texted her on arrival, and she quickly texted back, You’re clear. Come on up. Merritt ducked into the back entrance and took the stairs two at a time, then softly knocked on Archer’s office door.

The door opened, and Archer peered outside. “Hey,” she said, sounding warm and pleasant. “It’s been awhile since you’ve shown up here.”

“It has,” Merritt said. “Things have been… hectic.”

“I’m sure they have been.” Archer gestured toward the guest chair in front of her desk, then took her own seat behind it. “So… something urgent?” she asked, referring to the text he’d sent her hours ago.

“Yes.” He felt a surge of relief. This was the Archer he’d always known—the one who dropped her guard just a bit whenever the two of them were alone together. She hadn’t been waiting to ambush him. If anything, she appeared happy to talk with him after so long. “I’m glad to see you, and I wish I’d come just to say hi. But I… need your help with an investigation.”

Archer waited for him to sit, then asked, “What do you need?”

Merritt took a deep breath. “I witnessed a kidnapping last night, in my hometown.”

“In sub-Norwood?” Archer asked.

Merritt nodded. “At the orphanage.”

Archer leaned back in her seat. She’d barely moved an inch, but the motion signaled a palpable shift from warm to cold.

Merritt proceeded carefully. “I saw a couple men throwing kids into the back of an East Sphere cargo bike. The only problem is… it’s looking more and more like only the bike was from the East Sphere. The drivers, I’m not so sure.” He pulled up a map of the North Sphere’s business district on his phone. After zooming in on the building into which the cargo bike had disappeared, he handed the phone to Archer. “Do you know anything about this building?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It looked like the guys went into it. There’s a garage underneath it where they could have pulled in their bike. So, what do you know about this building?”

Archer squinted at the phone. “As in…?”

“What type of work is done there.”

“It’s a government building conducting top secret operations.”

Merritt frowned. Word for word, that was exactly what Belmont had said of the building. “What type of operations?”

“I don’t know,” Archer said, short and emotionless. “I don’t have clearance.”

“But you know they’re conducting top secret operations.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” She handed Merritt’s phone back to him.

“Does Belmont have clearance?”

“I don’t believe he does.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird? He’s Mercury’s right hand. Wouldn’t he have clearance to go everywhere?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Archer said. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Merritt sensed that Archer didn’t like being questioned about Belmont. He shifted gears. “I’ve memorized maps of every inch of the North Sphere. I know every government building along with its level of clearance. This building isn’t marked as occupied on any of the maps I’ve studied. The windows are boarded, and there’s a ‘For Rent’ sign outside.”

“Maybe your maps are outdated.”

Merritt tried his best to scrutinize her without looking suspicious of her. “You don’t have any idea what type of work they’re doing in there?”

“Seeing as I don’t have clearance, no.”

Merritt swiped through a few screens on his cell phone. “I’m going to call Mercury and ask him.”

“Do you really think it’s wise to get Mercury involved?”

Merritt’s face fell. His skin went cold, and dread filled the pit of his stomach. “You’re in on it.”

“Merritt.”

“You’re in on it. I saw you outside that orphanage once. I didn’t even question it, because I thought we were on the same side. But whatever happened to those kids, you know. They’re being abused or killed, and you’re covering it up.”

“You’re making some wild assumptions there,” Archer said, stone-faced.

“What other assumptions can I make?” Merritt asked. “I can tell you’re not being forthcoming with me.”

Archer pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to a pile of papers on her desk. She picked them up and stacked them even though they were already neatly stacked. Slowly and deliberately, she said, “I think sometimes you forget that you and I don’t have the same clearance either.”

That stung. In all the time they’d known each other, Archer had never before used her higher rank as a weapon against him. He thought he’d be immune to such words by now—but coming from her mouth, they felt lethal. His voice unsteady, he said, “When I found out my friend was dying, you’re the one I turned to. You sat in front of me and looked me in the eye and pretended you knew nothing about it. But you do know. You’ve known all this time.”

Archer continued to sit emotionless before him. It was like she felt nothing at all.

He felt himself crumbling faster than he could put the pieces back together. The words spilled from his mouth even as he told himself to shut up, to save it for someone who cared. “What those kids went through, I’ve been through. I lived through more nights like that than you could ever imagine. I’ve fought off grown adults trying to pull me out of my bed. You’re the only person I’ve ever told about that. If there was anyone I thought I could trust with this, it was you.” He swallowed hard. “I guess I was wrong.”

“I have no idea what your goal is,” Archer said coldly, “but you’re getting entirely too emotional. You’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment. That’s dangerous.”

Merritt suspected her words were meant as a dig. “If you won’t help me find those kids, then I have no choice but to go to someone else.”

“Or you could forget about whatever it is you think you saw. It had nothing to do with you, did it?”

“No one wants me to call Mercury,” Merritt continued. “Is this something you’re doing in secret? Gathering guinea pigs for another poison project?” He gestured to the floor above them, where Wilson’s office resided. “I know you’ve been trying to get promoted above your boss. Is that what this is about? What wouldn’t you do to rise up the ranks?”

For a split second, Merritt saw a flash of fury in Archer’s eyes. But her face remained hard, and her voice was deathly calm. “Is that what you think of me?” she asked, and despite her flawless poker face, Merritt knew she was hurt. “None of us matter to you, do we? No alliance, no partnership, no ‘friendship’ matters to you—not if you think we stand in the way of you ‘serving your sphere.’ You don’t even know what it is you’re serving.”

“I know exactly what I’m serving. For the first time, I know.” He gritted his teeth. “But I don’t think you and I serve the same sphere anymore.”

Merritt took a step back, his fists clenched. He couldn’t handle another second of Archer’s brutal coldness. He turned away without a word and reached for the door.

Archer’s poker face was as strong as ever. “I suggest that you go out the back, just like you came in.”

He wouldn’t take the back. He didn’t trust her anymore. After she’d sat in front of him and refused to admit she knew about Torrence’s illness, he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth.

He wasted no time getting to the public elevator. He stepped in, smacked the button to close the doors, and requested the first floor. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and let out a heavy sigh.

What the hell was he up against?

He heard a rattling noise above his head and looked up. To his horror, the edge of one of the ceiling panels behind him dropped, and something rolled from atop it into the elevator. A test tube.

It hit the ground and shattered, letting loose a stream of translucent blue liquid.

An overwhelming wave of dizziness washed over Merritt. He staggered and fell against the wall, then collapsed forward to the ground. The broken test tube rolled in a lazy circle in front of his face.

He was conscious. He could see clearly and think clearly, but he couldn’t move or talk.

The elevator reached the first floor, but the doors didn’t open. Instead, the carriage rose again. Merritt helplessly watched each successive floor button illuminate on the wall. The elevator passed Archer’s office and stopped one floor above.

The doors opened. A pair of heavy rubber boots stood in the overly bright hallway before him. He tried to look up, to see a face, but he could barely move his eyes.

An arm wrapped around his midsection and hoisted him up, dragging him clumsily out of the elevator and down the hall. He was pulled into a lab room, then thrown into a rickety plastic chair that nearly toppled backward upon impact. Someone caught his arms and pulled the chair back upright.

His head lolled, finally turning at just the right angle to see the man who hovered above him.

Wilson pulled off one of his blue nitrile gloves, revealing a bandaged hand. “Of all the annoying pests I’ve dealt with in the North Sphere,” he said, “you are by far the hardest to kill, Merritt.” 

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