“Wait.” An elderly man steps forward. “I’ll go.”

The tall thug brushes past him nearly knocking him over. “We said strong, old man.” He motions at the fellow who had been playing the violin. “We’ll take this one.” He walks around the group looking them over. They are no more than cattle to him and he’s shopping for the strongest. “And this one.” He looks around at some of the others like he’s disgusted. Non-pacts tend to be smaller and thinner than most people.

He spots me. The shawl shadows my face and disguises my shoulders, but he can still see that I’m sizable. “And him.”

Xavier rushes over and steps between us. “You don’t want him. Can’t follow instructions.” He taps his head like I have jelly for brains. “He’s simple.”

Come on. Push it. I’d love to work for you.

The thug shakes his head in disgust. “Which of you aren’t?” He points out two other men near him and says, “Let’s go. We don’t have all night.”

The men load into the van and they’re gone. That fast. The party is over. Of those who remain, most return to their homes in the surrounding buildings. A few return to the chairs by the dying embers of the fire, perhaps not wanting the further desolation of empty dark apartments. Xavier sits in the chair beside me. A vein that crawls across his temple is raised like hot lava is flowing through it.

“We could have crushed them,” I say.

“We will,” he answers. “When we have Karden.”

Turning Out the Lights

I spend the rest of that night and the next three days studying the files back at the apartment. Suddenly it’s not a chore. I know the entire hierarchy of Secretary Branson’s staff, from LeGru all the way down to his driver, who is a Bot named Gor. I know the days of the week he visits the Old Library Building and how long he spends there. I know who delivers groceries to his apartment and how many bags they carry. I know how many times the Collective has met at the Branson apartment in the last three months and who attended. What I don’t know is how the Network observed all this without detection, but I do know I’ve underestimated them.

Each night I turn out the lights and close the window coverings to block out all light. The first night I can only manage the complete blackness for a few seconds before I turn the light back on. The room is still there. I breathe deeply and try again. I know I’m not trapped in that small cube again, but my body still reacts. Sweat beads on my forehead. My lungs flatten like there’s no air in them. I repeat Jenna’s words to myself. Change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s molded by people who don’t give up. I try again and again and each time I picture the Security thug shopping for Non-pacts like they were tools in a hardware store. That image fuels me to withstand what I hate.

I work up to a minute of complete darkness, then two minutes, then five, and I practice maneuvering through the apartment. I concentrate and learn I can push my BioPerfect to hone skills I’ve barely tapped into. My night vision improves. By the end of the second night I can see more than dim edges of objects. Seeing those objects gives me more courage. I develop depth perception and can move through the rooms without bumping into a single table or wall.

Walking home the other night from Xavier’s neighborhood, I made a decision. When it comes time to go down into those tunnels searching for Karden, it won’t be Xavier who’s doing the searching. He has family who will miss him if he doesn’t make it. I don’t.

I search through the files, looking for an image of Karden. If I’m going down for him, I need to know what he looks like. Curiously, even though the whole Favor is about him, there isn’t a single image of him. I make a note to ask Carver for a picture. If I ask Xavier he may catch on to what I’m planning.

I tap into my Assistant’s skills too. I may be strong, but I need to be quick and anticipate moves. I learned that twice the hard way when Xavier outmaneuvered me. I practice Strategic Combat with Percel. It’s hard to move in the apartment, and the sound of me falling—which I do a lot—might alert neighbors so we practice in the small fenced park across the street.

I study the layout of the Secretary’s apartment so that I know every turn, hallway, and room by heart. Of course, no one has been inside so we don’t know for sure which room is for what purpose or which is the Secretary’s office. I suspect the southwest corner bedroom belongs to Raine. It’s the closest to the rooftop garden. As detailed as all the files are about all the other players, including LeGru, the files for Raine seem incomplete. Only the basic information, which seems odd since she’s the one I have to get close to. There’s nothing about her friends, early life, or her dead mother, but as tight a rein as the Secretary keeps on her, maybe there’s no more information available.

On the third night I pin Percel in three moves and decide I’ve earned some time off for a while. I know where I’m going. I’ve been thinking about it for days, trying to stay away, but I need to know more. More than the files are telling me.

* * *

I silently turn over a waste can in the recessed doorway and sit on it. It’s a good place to wait and it’s plenty dark. I don’t have to wait long. It’s all too easy and perfect and I almost feel guilty. The ladder is lowered and I spot her climbing down. She’ll land just a few feet away but I know I’m hidden in the shadows and she can’t see me. A small overhang casts me in complete darkness.