“Look, I’m sorry. I’m really desperate. You can’t take me back. Please. It has to do with Kaine—I know you’ve heard of him—and we have information. We need to go to the VNS headquarters in Atlanta.”
“Well,” the cop replied, “if you know so much, all the more reason to take you in.”
“But—”
The cop had had enough. “Get. In. The car.”
Deflated, Michael did as he was told.
“Maybe this is a good thing,” Sarah said after the hovercar had vaulted into flight. They were moving at breakneck speed through the travel zones designated for such vehicles, almost solely operated by government entities.
“A good thing?” Michael repeated. “I can’t wait to hear why.” He knew the cop could hear him, and he didn’t really care.
“We need to tell somebody,” she countered. “You really think we can find my parents and fight Kaine and his army of Tangents by ourselves? I think we’ve done just about all we can do—we tried the VNS, and that didn’t pan out so well. So now we try telling the police, the GBI, Central Intelligence, whoever. Someone will listen to us.”
Bryson nodded, taking Sarah’s side, but Michael shook his head.
“I feel like the VNS are the only ones who’ll take us seriously.” He interrupted Sarah’s protests before she could even begin. “Yes, we tried, and I know they brushed us off. But there had to be a reason for that. Maybe Agent Weber was worried about spies, or maybe she was trying to protect us, I don’t know. But somehow we’ve got to get face to face with her.”
“I don’t know, man,” Bryson said. Which depressed Michael, because if anyone was going to be adventurous, it would’ve been Bryson. If he’d given up, resigned to go along with the police, then that was probably what they’d just have to do.
“All right,” Michael said, giving up himself. For the moment. “Hopefully someone will listen to us eventually. Really listen to us.”
“Well,” Bryson responded, “unless you want to kick this guy out the door and fly the car yourself, I don’t think we have much choice, now, do we? This ain’t the Sleep, man. We can’t code ourselves out of this one.”
For one crazy, frantic moment, Michael considered doing it. Jumping into the front seat like an escaped gorilla. How hard could it be to fly a hovercar? But the moment passed, and Michael sat back, folded his arms, and looked out the window.
Below them, the streets flashed by like rows of crops in the Lifeblood countryside.
They drove on in silence for a while, Michael’s mind ticking like a bomb. He couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen with the police and who they’d be handed over to. Would anyone believe their story? The farther they drove, the more uneasy he became. Things just wouldn’t settle in his mind.
The only person he knew besides Sarah and Bryson was Gabriela. Would she help them? And the fact that she was going to be visiting her dad in Atlanta didn’t escape him. The possibility seemed insane, but he knew absolutely no one else. And they were getting desperate. He could easily find her Net address with just a little time to dig.…
They had reached the central part of the city, and Michael zoned out as they sped through a canyon of tall skyscrapers, glass and steel reflecting the dying sunlight. Very few hover-cars shared the airways with them, and Michael had to avert his eyes whenever they did pass. The cars seemed to be headed straight for them, only to swerve out of the way at the last second. It had Michael on edge.
Leaning forward, he addressed the policeman. “Sir?”
The cop had put his visor back down—Michael could see flashes of information and maps flashing inside its dark screen, though the angle made it hard to decipher much.
“What?” the man replied, clearly uninterested.
The guy might be a jerk, Michael thought, but he was still an officer of the law. Sarah tapped Michael on the shoulder and raised her eyebrows when he looked at her—the biggest What in the world are you doing? look she’d ever given him. He tried to reassure her with an expression that said Relax, then turned back to the cop.
“You have to believe us on this. It’s a crazy story, but it’s true.”
“What story?”
“Well, I haven’t really told you yet.”
The man threw his arms up in exasperation. The hovercar dipped, making Michael’s stomach vault into his throat, and Bryson let out an embarrassing yelp.
“So now you want me to believe a story you haven’t told me?” the driver asked. “Son, answer me a question. Have you ever been committed to an asylum? Ever been diagnosed with a tumor in your head? Maybe the size of a grapefruit?”
Somehow this made the guy more likable, and Michael relaxed a bit. “Okay, listen. Do you go into the Slee—the VirtNet very often? Do you game at all?”
The man barked a laugh. “Do I have an enlarged prostate and have to pee every twenty minutes? Of course I do. What could possibly be your point?”
“Well, I know you’ve heard of the gamer named Kaine. Right? He’s been in the news a lot the last few months.”
“Yes, son, I’ve heard of Kaine.” He turned the steering wheel to the right and the hovercar banked heavily to swing around a wide building. Sarah’s body pressed against Michael’s, and if he hadn’t been so upset, it would have been nice. “Let me guess. This Kaine is an uncle of yours? Maybe your daddy?”
“No, he’s a Tangent. And he’s stealing people’s bodies and inserting programs, the … intelligence of Tangents, into them, into the humans. He’s turning Tangents into humans. Killing real people to do it.”
Michael winced. Every word made the whole thing seem a little more absurd.
The cop turned to look at Michael. “Son, don’t worry. We have good crazy-doctors at the station. We’ll be there soon.” He faced front again.
Michael sat back in the seat, stiffly. He’d seen something in the cop’s visor when he moved, just for a second, when the angle was right. Michael’s face must’ve paled, because Sarah and Bryson both were looking at him as if they thought the crazy-doctor recommendation had been a good one.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah whispered.
Michael couldn’t answer. He could hardly breathe. He wanted to believe it had been a trick of the eye, that he hadn’t really seen what he thought he had. But the truth was like a sinking ship.