“Are you—” Michael began, but the man cut him off.
“Yes, Michael. Now get over here so people can’t see you from the street.” He jerked his head, indicating to Michael where to go, then backed up a couple of steps, his face as glum as a funeral director’s.
Michael had to hold back a snicker as he joined him. The guy was short. Straight-out-of-a-cartoon short. “What did you want to see me for?”
“Progress report,” the man answered. He avoided looking Michael in the eye. His gaze flicked left and right, as if he expected an ambush at any moment. Which didn’t make Michael feel very safe. “What’s happened, what have you learned, what are your plans, that sort of thing.”
“Well, we—”
The stranger cut him off again. “And make it snappy. We shouldn’t be seen together. I’ve got plenty of business to get to.”
“Oh … kay,” Michael said. What a weird dude, he thought. “I think we’re on the right track, but we’ve been attacked by Kaine twice now.”
“By Kaine?” the little man asked, taking a step forward and looking at Michael directly for the first time. “You’re absolutely sure it was the … man himself?”
Michael searched for words, suddenly unsure. “Well, yeah, I think so. I guess we didn’t know for sure the second time. They were KillSims, and Ronika assumed Kaine had sent them.”
“Ronika? Who’s Ronika?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Like I said, we want to hear it from you. Tell me everything.”
“How do I know you are who you say you are? Actually”—Michael hesitated before he spoke again—“you haven’t even told me who you are.”
The impish man was obviously annoyed. “My name is Agent Scott, and I work for Agent Weber. That’s all you need to know. We’re running out of time.”
When Michael didn’t answer, the stranger rolled his eyes and pressed his EarCuff. A VNS badge floated out between them and, a little embarrassed that he had to bend over to see the thing, Michael pretended to study it as if he knew what to look for. Hoping the man hadn’t just called his bluff, he nodded.
“All right,” Scott said. “Now tell me everything.”
Michael did. About being trapped in a void of space and hearing—seeing—Kaine’s terrible warning, about Cutter, about Ronika and the Black and Blue, the KillSims, the Path, the Hallowed Ravine to which it supposedly led, the plan to enter Devils of Destruction in the morning—all of it.
When he finished, Agent Scott scratched his bearded chin, his elbow resting on the palm of his other hand, and looked at the ground studiously. It was as if he was the world’s shortest version of Sherlock Holmes. Michael waited patiently, fighting another urge to laugh.
Finally, the agent returned his attention to Michael. “Go ahead and move forward, then. But don’t assume that Kaine is the only one following you or trying to stop you. Do you understand me? Assume everyone you meet is your enemy.”
“That ought to be fun,” Michael muttered, but his insides twisted as he spoke.
“Do you understand me?” the man asked again slowly.
Michael wanted to remind him that he was the taller one. But he just nodded.
“Michael—I need verbal confirmation.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” Agent Scott seemed satisfied. After yet another glance up and down the vacant alley, he leaned in close to Michael. “We’ve still got you and your two friends’ Auras tagged with Tracers. Even with your Hider codes we’ll be able to find you, so don’t worry. We’ll know where you are, and we’ll be able to send in the cavalry when you finally break into this Hallowed Ravine you’ve heard about. If the Mortality Doctrine program is being hidden anywhere, that’ll be the place. So be sharp. And safe.”
“Yes, sir.” Suddenly the man didn’t seem so short anymore.
“Good. Very good. I’ll be off, then.”
“Uh, sir?” Michael asked hesitantly. “If we get in trouble before the Hallowed Ravine, are you going to help us? Since you’ll be watching?”
Agent Scott shook his head as if he’d never heard a more ridiculous question. “That’s not how this works. We can’t act like we know what’s going on. We’ve got a lot of teams working on this, and we’ll just have to hope one of you makes it in. Until you do, we can’t help.”
“And what if we get killed?” Michael asked. “Or have our Auras erased, like what happened to Ronika?”
The little man smiled for the first time since they’d met. “Be vigilant. There’s something about Kaine that’s … fishy. That’s all I can say.”
And with that he turned and started walking down the alley.
5
Michael stood there by the Dumpster until the agent had disappeared around the corner. What a strange little man, he thought again, and finally let out the snicker that’d been building inside, probably from stress more than anything. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed or even felt good. The day brightened ever so slightly.
He turned to head home but had only made it halfway down the alley when a sudden pain lanced his skull. It was so powerful he grabbed his head and dropped to his knees. He was barely aware of his groans echoing off the canyon-like walls of the alley.
The pain was far worse than what he’d felt lying in bed after being attacked by the KillSims. It pulsed with every heartbeat. With his eyes squeezed tight, he crawled blindly to the side of the alley until he felt the wall, then sat with his back against it, rubbing his temples. Slowly, he tried to open his eyes, but the brightness of the day sent a fresh wave of agony through his head. And something about where he was didn’t seem right. He squinted, trying to figure out what was off.
The lane before him quivered and rippled as if it had been turned into a river of gray oil. The Dumpsters to his right floated up into the air and spun in circles. Flashes and images of bodies kept appearing and disappearing all around him. The buildings that bordered the alley were askew, leaning in impossible directions, defying physics. The sky had turned a horrible purple color, bruised and splotchy with dark red clouds. Panicked, Michael squeezed his eyes shut and curled up into a ball on the pavement, begging for the episode to end.