C James - Dome Six

Luther used the Nexus to build his case against Hideki. He’d been down there again with Tosh, ostensibly to fix it. But even Elle had no reason to be in the Nexus other than to pull the Epoch data. Luther didn’t need to go down there just to pull sentiment data — he could do that from his office. If he went back again, she had to learn what he was doing down there.

She only needed to wait a day.

Her tablet alerted her that the Listener she’d planted was active, so she closed the door, activated the live feed, and listened with her ear pressed to the speaker.

“Welcome, Director,” said IDA.

“Connect to Cytocorp actual,” he said. Even through the echo-y feed, she could hear the impatience in his voice, tinged with triumph.

Cytocorp actual? What the hell?

“Director Downing,” said an androgynous voice. “This is becoming an unfortunate habit.”

“Then tell me what I want to hear.”

“Have you identified the saboteur ?” asked the voice.

“He goes in the Box tomorrow morning,” Luther said, with no small measure of self-satisfaction. As soon as that door closes, I’m on the fucking train to Pacifica.”

“Well done,” the voice said. “What’s the citizen’s name?”

“Hideki Yamamura.”

“Once his vital signs are no longer detected, we will open the door. Wait there for the train.”

Train? What train? Who’s he talking to?

“I’ll be safe from the Burn?” Luther asked.

“Of course.”

“What about the processor? The FPC will be full of workers.”

The processor? What about the processor?

“That’s not our concern.”

Luther paused. “And Julia will be waiting for me?” he asked eagerly.

“You’ll get all that is coming to you,” said the voice. “You have our word.”

The voice said no more and neither did Luther. The next thing she heard was the airlock door open and close. He’d be back up in the Authority in moments. She silenced the feed and set her tablet down on the desk, then leaned back in her chair to piece together what she just heard.

Cytocorp still existed, or at least, an AI representative did. That seemed more likely. Whoever or whatever it was on the other end had a history with Luther. They’d spoken before, that much was certain.

The bit about a train didn’t make any sense at all. They used train lines to build the Domes back in the day, but the tunnels were sealed after the Originals got settled inside. Surely it didn’t still exist, especially with the Burn surrounding them. But what if it did?

And then there was the part about Julia, Luther’s wife, who died 20 years ago during the Fourth Epoch in an ill-advised attempt to escape through the incinerator. It destroyed Luther. Elle was too young knew too little of death and grief to offer him comfort. But what if she hadn’t actually died? What if she’d been taken somehow and the Company had Luther under its thumb ever since?

These weren’t the questions that mattered anymore. What mattered was that Luther was leaving as soon as Hideki was gone. Pacifica still existed and, apparently, so did Cytocorp. It was a lot to take in. Luther had groomed her from a young age to be Administrator, with him at her right hand. She’d believed he was in service to her vision of the future but it was actually the other way around. In taking him as her lover, she’d unwittingly made it easy for him to operate with impunity right under her nose.

Worst of all, he’d created at least one crisis in order to frame an innocent man. Her best friend’s brother, no less. In recusing herself, she’d surrendered whatever power she might have to save him.

But a way out was a way out. If the Dome was falling apart — and it seemed it was — then there were two choices: Wait for it to happen or find out if the outside was survivable. They had enough suits to lead a small team out into the Burn. Maybe the sensor data was accurate, and the footage was real. But maybe they weren’t. Either way, she wasn’t about to sit around and watch it all crumble around her. If Luther knew the way out, maybe all she had to do was follow.

If Luther betrayed her, there was no telling who else in the Authority might be working against her. That left very few people to trust with what she’d learned, and even fewer ways to act on it. But now, the only person she felt she could trust hated her guts. The time had come for a long overdue olive branch.

“IDA, locate Owen Welsh,” she said.

It wasn’t the physical pain, though the exposed nerves just beneath the layers of gauze constantly screamed for Owen’s attention. No, it was the pain of losing something you were powerless to recover.

The phantom-limb thing they warned him about was true. It felt for all the world like his right arm was still there though it clearly wasn’t, and that might’ve been the worst part. How many times in the past two days had he tried reaching for his ration bottle on the table beside his bed, only to remember there was nothing to grasp it with?

His left arm felt unwieldy and weak, like a backup appendage reserved only for emergencies or holding things. Even something so simple as lifting a spoonful of multimeal to his mouth required his full concentration. Perhaps in time it would become more trustworthy.

Aaron visited that morning and tried to cheer him up. And he might’ve succeeded, too, were it not for his mention of the Towers. Owen had tried very hard not to think about that, or whatever awful new Placement awaited him now that he couldn’t possibly manage Tower work.

Again, he pushed away the self-pity. He was alive and otherwise well — something Hideki wouldn’t be in less than 24 hours. He didn’t believe Dek was responsible for the Exchangers any more than his mom did, but it didn’t matter what they believed.

The door opened and his nurse, a perpetually exasperated but good-humored woman named Erica, came in with a bowl of multimeal. He could smell it from across the room, a green and fruity smell that only became unpleasant after the first few thousand spoonfuls. Eating it for three meals a day made you want variety so badly that you would do just about anything to accumulate the Ration Rewards that bought you whole food. His little family wasn’t so good at that, so he ate metric fucktons of multimeal.

“Lunchtime,” said the nurse.

“What’ve you got for me?” he asked, sitting up.

“Bland mush at room temperature,” she said, placing the bowl on the tray and rolling it over in front of him.

“I’m not feeling this today,” he said. “How about some seafood?”

“I’ll inquire with the kitchen,” she said with a smirk. “How’s your pain?”

“Constant,” he replied. “Thanks for asking.”

“Well, eat up,” she said with a wink. “They’re cutting you loose this afternoon.”

She turned on her heels and opened the door, then started at whomever she saw on the other side.

“Administrator Travers,” she stammered.

“I came to see our patient,” she said, poking her head inside to see that Owen was awake and alert. Just seeing her face made his blood boil.

“Of course,” said the nurse. “I just brought him lunch. Take as much time as you need.”

“Thank you,” said Elle.

The nurse left and the door closed behind her. Elle looked around Owen’s tiny room, which still looked relatively new by Dome standards. Compared to other spaces, hospital rooms didn’t see much use.

“Hello, Owen,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Left-handed,” he mumbled.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” she said. “The men responsible have been reassigned to the FPC.”