Max Collins - Skin Game

“You knew this tunnel was here,” Max said, the significance slowly dawning on her, “when you bought Medtronics.”

“It’s why I bought Medtronics — the building this leads to is part of Medtronics too, actually. The borders of Terminal City weren’t established until the containment fences went up.”

“Are you telling me you anticipated this siege and—”

“Of course not. But with the influx of transgenics into Terminal City, I thought it might be an advantage to have some real estate nearby. Plus, it was only a matter of time until Eyes Only was going to need a new home anyway.”

“A point Ames White drove home,” Max said, referring to the discovery and destruction of Logan’s penthouse Eyes Only headquarters. Logan had been squatting himself, lately, in Joshua’s old digs, an abandoned house.

“I started looking for new quarters a while ago,” Logan said.

“So you own both these buildings.”

“Yeah. The remains of Medtronics.”

She frowned. “In your name?”

He shook his head. “Dummy corporation. Called Sowley Opticals.”

Now it was her turn to smirk. “That’s a little cute, isn’t it? Nobody’ll ever figure that one out!”

Joshua was frowning. “Figure what, Max?”

“Nothing,” she said.

Logan said, “Eyes Only has a friend in the Records department at City Hall. The records show that Sowley Opticals owned this building from the day before the Pulse. Maybe it is too cute, but in an area of medtech companies, it will actually look legit.” He stepped into the tunnel. “Come on, take a walk with me, Max — and take this, you’ll need it. I’ve got my own.” He handed her the key to unlock the knob-less door.

“Thanks,” she said, but she was having trouble processing this. She knew she should be grateful that Logan had done such shrewd planning, but she felt somehow... betrayed. No, that was too strong. He hadn’t taken her into his confidence — he was up to his old, Eyes Only, secret ways again.

As before, Joshua let the distance grow so the two of them could have some privacy. Their feet barely made a sound as they strode down the tile floor.

“Something wrong, Max?” Logan said, the smirk gone.

“No.”

“Max, I can read you better than that.”

“... You did all this without telling me?”

“Some things are on a need-to-know basis, Max... and you didn’t need to know this yet. I’m sure you have secrets you’re keeping, to protect me better.”

That was true.

Logan kept his voice low. “You’re going to have to talk to them, you know.”

“Who?”

“The cops, the National Guard... probably even someone from the feds.”

Max shook her head slowly. “All I want is for us to be left alone.”

“Terminal City is a toxic island, Max. The time for speeches is over. Brass tacks now.”

“Okay. Say it.”

“If you initiate negotiations, Eyes Only can get that word out to the world. If you do nothing, sooner or later, they’re going to come in... and you know what that means.”

Genocide.

“Like it or not,” Logan was saying, “we’re about to enter a media war... and we need all the good press we can get.”

She winced in confusion as they walked along. “A media war? How is this—”

“Why do you think White tried to turn Jam Pony into a bloodbath?”

“To kill me.”

“That’s one reason... but he was going to kill everyone in the place. Ordinaries like me and Cindy and Sketchy too.”

“Yeah, I know — that’s why I stopped Joshua from snapping White’s spine. Carnage makes us look like the monsters everybody thinks we are.”

“Bingo. Now you’re gettin’ media savvy.”

She grunted something like a laugh and it echoed in the tunnel. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right?”

“I’m always tired of being right, Max... Ames White is going to fight you — not just you, Max, all of you — and not inside the gates of Terminal City, not right away. But in the media.”

“It won’t be hard,” she said. “You saw those crazy assholes outside Jam Pony, and on TV. Everybody in Seattle already thinks we’re monsters.”

Logan stopped for a moment; he seemed about to touch her, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes held her.

“Not everybody,” he said. “Not me, not Original Cindy, not Sketchy... and now not even Normal.”

“And you think we can convince everyone?”

“If a right-wing nutcase like Normal can be brought around, anything is possible.”

Now that they’d stopped, Joshua was catching up to them.

“Have to convince people, Little Fella,” he said, those soul-ful puppy-dog eyes cutting to her core. “People are afraid of what they don’t understand. Have to change their minds. Make them understand.”

She stared into Joshua’s unabashed sincerity, knowing he was right, but also knowing — even after all they’d suffered, all Joshua had suffered — that he was naive.

“There’s an old pre-Pulse saying among the Normals of the world,” Max said. “Shoot first and ask questions later.”

Logan said, “That’s another reason for you to start negotiations as soon as possible, Max... before they start shooting. Besides, how much food and water is there in Terminal City? Realistically, how long can you hold out here?”

“Longer than they think we can,” she said automatically.

“But is living the rest of your life in Terminal City — just waiting for the day they storm the place — is that what you’re looking for?”

Max shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Well, you’ve had your moment of triumph — we have a flag flying. But it’s time for a reality check, Max. You better get started talking to the other side.”

They had made it to the end of the tunnel now, and Logan unlocked another door. They all passed through and found themselves in the basement of a darkened building, where feline DNA allowed her to see the piles of desks, filling cabinets, and office chairs around them.

Logan clicked his flashlight back on and led the way up the stairs to the first floor. Though the windows were all boarded, this floor was much cleaner than the basement, and a revelation compared to the other Medtronics building back in Terminal City.

High-ceilinged, with a tile floor, the large room was separated by partitions into an office on the right, a living room in the center, and a kitchen and dining area to the left. Numerous monitors and a pile of computer equipment cluttered two desks in the office area, and miles of wire seemed to snake everywhere. There was also a video camera that would serve as the new Eyes Only link to the world. The living room was home to a large leather sofa, three chairs, and a coffee table. A giant area rug only slightly smaller than a city bus covered the floor. The kitchen had a big fridge, a huge oven, a microwave, and even a butcher block island in the middle, and a cozy dining area with room for six. Two doors at the far end of the room led to a bathroom and bedroom respectively.

“Pretty cool,” Max said, eyes wide, impressed.

It reminded her of Logan’s old apartment. The penthouse had been beautiful, always spotlessly clean, and decorated in a spare modern manner that truly reflected Logan. That had been before Ames White traced an Eyes Only transmission, and his minions had trashed the place, shot it to hell, wrecking everything and sending Logan into hiding.

Fortunately, the penthouse had been off-the-books, and in the many weeks of Logan keeping a low profile, White had apparently not been able to trace it to its true occupant. So both Logan — and his Eyes Only identity — seemed secure.

“It’s time,” Logan said to her, “to get Eyes Only up and running again anyway — we’ve been off the air too long.”