‘I’m not an operative,’ Sophia said. ‘And neither are you.’
Aviary chewed the inside of her lip. ‘And you’re the authority on that?’
‘It’s dangerous, hacking into the Fifth Column,’ Sophia said. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘I just granted you your wish!’ Aviary said. ‘And you don’t want it anymore?’
Sophia felt the heat build inside her. ‘This isn’t a game!’ she yelled. ‘One mistake and I find you in the bathtub with your brain splashed across the ceramic!’
‘I don’t make mistakes!’ Aviary paused. ‘And more to the point, I don’t have a bathtub.’
‘But you have this!’ Sophia said, trying to bring her volume down. She gestured to the couch, to the kitchen, the apartment as a whole.
‘Yeah, and it’s boring as hell,’ Aviary said. ‘Your life might be dangerous but it’s exciting.’
‘This is something real,’ Sophia said. ‘Your life is real. Mine’s just … I don’t know, like some passing reflection in the glass. I’m there one minute and then I’m gone. That’s how it is.’
Aviary’s hands uncurled. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ she said. ‘I have plans tonight and you’re coming.’ She handed the phone back to Sophia. ‘To something real.’
Chapter 9
With her ruck on her back, Nasira opened the door and stepped across the hard snow. The blizzard was gone and for the first time Nasira could make out the village. Only it seemed very different from what she expected. The buildings were Incan stone walls with new roofs and doors. Some new huts were sprinkled around the outskirts made only of timber and metal sheeting. Their walls were painted more colorfully than the stone.
A trio of kids played near the center of town in colorful ponchos and snowshoes. The bare ground beneath their feet seemed almost visible in the snow, but the more Nasira looked the less obvious it became.
She paused mid-stride and tried to focus. The light from behind the clouds seemed different now. And the darker patches in the snow seemed deeper, richer. She didn’t know what she was seeing and it didn’t make any sense.
‘Are you OK?’ Lucia said. ‘Would you like more potato soup?’
Nasira shook her head. She removed her hood and knelt on the snow. She pinched the fingertip of her glove and pulled it off, touched the snow with her bare hand.
‘Is something wrong?’ Lucia said.
‘The snow’s changed,’ Nasira said.
She looked up and noticed the snow extend through the village to the mountains. Then a pair of legs obscured her view.
It was an old man. She looked up. He was short, thin and only seemed to have a few teeth.
He said something to her, but it wasn’t in English or Spanish. Then he nodded to himself and continued a nimble walk through the snow. As he moved from her field of vision, she could see the shape of the earth. But it wasn’t quite the shape.
The kids were chasing each other, laughing. One girl crashed into another and they toppled into the snow. She could see the collision. Not the girls, the collision itself.
The girls started to laugh hysterically. They climbed to their feet, gasping for air.
Lucia stood beside Nasira, watching her curiously.
‘I can see the magnetic field,’ Nasira said, turning to her.
‘I thought you couldn’t see it,’ Lucia said. ‘You told me—’
Nasira massaged her temples. ‘That buzzing last night. Don’t know what the hell it was, but it’s like that. Except it’s focused.’
Lucia had her hands on her hips. ‘I guess that makes you some kind of superhero.’
Nasira’s stomach crawled at the thought. ‘What did he say to me?’ she said. ‘That man?’
‘Oh,’ Lucia said. ‘The world is as you dream it.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Nasira said.
Lucia smiled. ‘I’ll take you to the trail.’
She led Nasira to the edge of town, occasionally passing other residents who stared at Nasira. She gave them an awkward nod, which they returned with enthusiastic waves and gleaming smiles.
They soon reached the outskirts of the village. Nasira could see the snow continue for a distance before breaking. It made way for the sharp tips of the mountains that surrounded them. Lucia indicated southwest, where the trail would take her back to the path she knew, under the mountains.
‘Thank you,’ Nasira said.
‘You came a long way,’ Lucia said. ‘For that one story.’
Nasira pulled the hood over her head to keep her ears warm. ‘It was an important story.’
‘And I’m glad you could tell it.’
Nasira nodded and started towards the trail. She stopped. She couldn’t just leave it like that. Lucia was already walking back to the village.
‘Wait,’ Nasira said.
She walked back to Lucia. Her mind fumbled for the words. She didn’t know how to start this part of the story. Maybe there wasn’t a way to start it.
‘Your brother. And your sister-in-law,’ Nasira said. ‘Lucia’s parents.’
‘Yes,’ the older Lucia said.
‘You told me you knew how they passed away,’ Nasira said.
Lucia nodded. ‘Their store was robbed. They died from gunshot wounds.’
‘The … As children we were programmed,’ Nasira said.
She was doing it now. There was no turning back.
‘The first operation is to … We … They’re taught … fooled into thinking someone is a terrorist. Or some sort of bad guy, you know.’
Lucia watched her, silent. Nasira could tell her mind was working, decoding Nasira’s words quickly.
‘The first operation … it was to kill … it was meant to complete your programming. If you were successful, there was no doubt.’
Tears were running down Lucia’s cheeks. She saw it coming.
Nasira couldn’t stop now. She had to go through. She had to see this out. ‘Our first operation was to kill our own parents.’
Lucia’s mouth was open. She tried to scream but no sound came. Nasira moved for her but Lucia flinched, stepped back. She hunched over, gasping.
‘But it wasn’t her,’ Nasira said. ‘Lucia didn’t do that. The people who programmed her did that.’
Lucia straightened up, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed. She said nothing. Just stared through Nasira.
‘Did you kill your own parents?’ Lucia said.
‘No,’ Nasira said.
‘Why not?’ Lucia said. Her words struck Nasira with venom. ‘Were you too good for that?’
Nasira swallowed. ‘I was an orphan,’ she said. ‘I was given a different assignment.’
Lucia glared at her. ‘Go.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Nasira said.
‘Just go.’
Nasira felt the sting of tears in her own eyes. She turned, her hood up, and walked for the trail. Her legs seemed unwilling to walk anywhere. Not now, not after that. She didn’t want to go anywhere. But she certainly didn’t want to stay there a moment longer.
She found the trail, a meticulous row of stone steps that led as far down the mountain face as she could see. She blinked and wiped her face, clearing the older Lucia and the village from her mind. She was finished now and she could return to Sophia.
She wished she had her wooden staffs to take the pressure off her legs but she’d left them behind when Lucia had rescued her. It took her an hour to make it to the bottom of the stone steps and into the foothills.
And that’s when she heard it.
Yelling in the distance.