Steven Harper - Trickster

"Mistress?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't have a lot of time to explain," she said, "so listen hard. I stuck a chip to your shackle when I grabbed your wrists. It broadcasts a silence loop to the farm's computer so it can't monitor what we're saying."

"Mistress?" the boy said hesitantly. "I don't understand."

Gretchen reached into her jumpsuit and fished out her gold medallion. It was a risk to wear it, but experience had taught Gretchen that the medallion often convinced suspicious slaves faster than mere words. "Do you know what this stands for, Jerry?"

The boy halted and stared, forcing Gretchen to stop as well. Awe mixed with excitement on his face. "Everyone knows what that is. You're a Child of Irfan."

"That's right," she said, tucking the medallion away again. "I'm here with a couple other members of our order to get you out of here. You game?"

"But-but I'm not-" he hesitated, clearly afraid of her reaction "-not Silent. Not anymore. That's why they sold me."

Gretchen's heart twisted in sympathy and she struggled to keep her voice steady. "Your Silence doesn't matter to us, Jerry. You do. Are you in or out? I need to know now."

"In," the boy said to Gretchen's relief. She wouldn't have to bring up his mother to convince him. Kendi had told her to save Harenn for later, if possible. No sense in overwhelming the boy.

"Then let's get moving," Gretchen said, hurrying down the path toward the equipment barn again. "We don't have a whole lot of time."

"How are you going to do it?" the boy asked. "Do you have a plan? Are you going to kill the master?"

"Never mind the details," she said, "and no, we aren't planning to kill anyone."

"Oh." The boy looked disappointed. "Will it take long? Are we going today?"

"No, it won't, and yes, we are. Now come with me and don't ask so many questions. We'll tell you everything you want to know, but later."

They rounded the corner of the barn-and came face-to-face with Joe. Gretchen only barely managed to avoid slamming into him. The boy dodged behind Gretchen with a gasp.

"What are you doing out here?" Joe demanded. "And what's with the kid?"

Gretchen's heart thudded hard, but she managed to keep her face expressionless. "We need a runner, one who knows the farm," she said. "So I co-opted one of your hands. We didn't figure you'd mind."

Joe frowned. "We run a tight ship here, lady. This kind of thing needs to be-hey! Aren't you the tech that came by to fix the sprinkler glitch in the first place?"

"That's me," Gretchen said. She drew her flashlight from her belt and tapped herself on the chest with it. "Corporate HQ says the fix-it program had some bugs-a glitch within a glitch. What are the odds, hey?"

"I don't like this," Joe growled. "That man and that woman coming here to ask about a hand we just bought, then this glitch pops up and I catch you running around with the same kid those two were asking about. I better call Mr. Markovi."

Adrenaline sang in Gretchen's blood. "You don't have to call him," she said, pointing with her chin to a point past Joe's shoulder. "Here he comes now."

Joe turned to look and Gretchen slugged him with the flashlight. The man staggered in surprise but didn't fall. Gretchen hit him again, and this time he went down. Gretchen glanced quickly around. The main house was blocked from view by the equipment barn and no other workers were in sight. A small bit of luck to balance out the big chunk of bad.

"Fuck," Gretchen muttered, looking down at Joe's motionless body. "Now what?"

"There," the boy said, pointing to a clump of ornamental bushes next to the equipment barn. "I'll help you drag him."

"You're quick on the uptake." Gretchen said as she grabbed one of Joe's wrists. The boy took the other. Together they dragged him toward the bushes.

"Faster on it than him," the boy said. "That was a really old trick."

"Still works," Gretchen pointed out, her calm voice belying the tension she felt. Someone could come by at any moment, might even be watching them now.

Once Joe's limp form had been stuffed into its leafy hiding place, Gretchen bent down and extracted his earpiece. Then she took the boy's hand and all but sprinted back toward the barn, only remembering at the last minute to slow down to a brisk walk when they came into sight of the house. Once they were in the equipment barn, however, they ran all the way to the equipment bay where Ben and Lucia were waiting. Computer parts and sprinkler equipment were scattered over the floor.

"Complication," Gretchen said as loudly as she dared above the noise. "Joe got suspicious. I had to hit him to keep him from calling Markovi, and I don't know how long he'll be out."

"Vik!" Lucia swore. She opened the nearly-empty equipment crate. "Get in, Jerry-hurry!"

The boy needed no further urging and jumped into the crate. Ben and Lucia carefully piled equipment on top of him while Gretchen kept a lookout, then they shut the lid and maneuvered the crate out of the bay.

Gretchen felt like a big sign hung over her head and flashed "Guilty! Guilty!" as they emerged with the crate into the bright sunlight and steered it toward the van. Ben tapped his ear and muttered to empty air while Gretchen and Lucia opened the van doors.

An alarm sounded just as they got the crate inside.

Douglas Markovi sat in his office and fumed. This stupid glitch had so far cost him an entire day's work, and it would show on the weekly statement. No doubt HQ would blame him for the whole thing and it would probably cut into his bonus, all because that goddammed bitch of a technician hadn't done her job right. He'd have to talk to legal about that, see what damages they could recover from Compulink. Meanwhile, maybe they could set up some lights in the cacao groves, get the hands off their lazy asses this evening and get some honest labor out of- An alarm blasted through the room. Markovi jumped.

"Attention! Attention!" barked the computer. "A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention! A hand has left-"

Markovi waved a frantic hand over his desk computer and the holographic screen popped up. The alarm continued to blare. "Billy, close down the exits and show me which hand has left the farm. And shut off that goddammed noise!"

The alarm instantly shut off. "All hands are accounted for," the computer said.

"What? But you just said someone had left."

"Please restate request."

Markovi ground his teeth. "Billy, explain the inconsistency in the last two reports."

"No inconsistency found. All hands are accounted for."

The vidscreen chimed and flashed the words Incoming Call. Markovi tapped his desk. Alex appeared on the wall looking worried. "What's going on boss? Did someone go AWOL?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Markovi snarled. "Get your ass down to the quarters with Joe and do a physical head count. I want everyone-"

He was cut off from another blast of alarm noise. "Attention! Attention! A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention!"

"Billy, shut the fuck up!" Markovi yelled, and the computer obeyed. "Billy, run a count of all hands."

"All hands are accounted for."

"Billy, did any shackle bombs go off?"

"Negative."

The vidscreen flashed another incoming call, and a moment later, one of the Compulink techs-the wimpy one who Markovi had yelled at earlier-appeared on it.

"What do you mean?" Markovi demanded. "Does this have something to do with the alarm system?"

"How the hell did we get a goddammed virus?" Markovi barked. "Our goddammed system is isolated."

The tech shrugged. "We can try to track it down for you, sir, since we're here."

"It won't be our emergency rates, sir," the tech said. "We're already on the premises, so-"