Sideswiped (5 page)

Silas's attention rose to the monitor. Peri's butt was in the air as she checked under all the waiting room chairs. The night guard was helping, but it was obvious he was more interested in Peri than in her phone. “Okay, I guess,” he said, and Summer chuckled.

“Got it,” Allen said with a decisive smack of a key. “Time for your upgrade, baby,” he added as he stood to move out of Silas's way. “Silas, she's all yours.”

Silas spun the chair to himself, holding his breath when the scent of perfume puffed out and around him when he sat. Regardless of what Summer thought, Peri was running out of places to look. His fingers fluid and fast, he accessed the computer's security level. If he couldn't upgrade it, the mainframe wouldn't recognize the terminal's priority and his nifty “death spiral” program wouldn't be allowed to upload.

“Phone,” he said distantly, hand going to his belt pack.

But Summer was there, her lips beside his ear. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to him as she bit gently down on his earlobe.

Sensation raced to his groin, and he stifled a shiver. “Please tell me that's not standard anchor/drafter protocol,” he said as he set his phone on the nearby pad and it lit up in connection.

Her wicked smile was inches away, her lips so close. “Depends upon the anchor,” she said, her eyes flicking to the monitor as it connected to his office computer and the entire system before him doubled its capabilities.

They were in.

“We're set,” he said casually, and Allen made a muffled exclamation. “Last chance to change our minds.”

“Sweet. Do it,” Allen said, hunched over the desk in excitement.

Silas looked at Summer, loving the way she looked beside him, face flushed and eyes alight. Their eyes met, and she nodded.

On the monitor, Peri stood before the waiting room vending machine, her hands on her hips as she posed coyly, her distress real enough for Silas. “Maybe someone kicked it under the machine,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “Could you look? The dust is bad for my asthma.”

His phone was still on the glass plate, and, leaning, he left-swiped through the open apps, hitting the one that gave him access to the simple but deadly program that he'd played with during his freshman year. His pulse raced as he brought it front and center.

Summer's slim hand stopped his, and she was the one who hit the confirmation key. He looked up at her, seeing the faint tremble in her lips, the need in her for this to work, the possibilities that would open for both of them if it did. This was what he wanted to do. She was who he wanted to do it with. He wasn't too big to be an effective agent.

It took an unreal two seconds for the program to register, two seconds for all his doubts and shortcomings to rise to the surface. And then the monitor chimed, wanting confirmation.

“Yes means yes,” Allen said, and Summer tapped it again.

There was a responding glow from the phone, and the computer flashed an error message. One by one, the running programs began to shut down.

“Sweet!” Allen exclaimed softly, straightening to his full height. “Let's get out of here.”

But Summer didn't move, and Silas stood, meticulously unhooking the glass pad and wiping the area down. “Have you texted Peri?” he asked, seeing Peri still with the guard.

Summer glanced at the phone in her hand. “Just now.” The phone went dark. “Drone has been sent into the drink.”

“Guys?” Allen prompted, and Silas watched Peri “find” her phone, jumping up and down and giving the guard a hug, making him flush and stammer. “Before the sun goes nova, maybe?”

But Summer didn't move. “I can't wait until tomorrow to see if this worked,” she said, voice strained. “I have to know now.”

Allen's urgent ushering motions stopped. “But these things take forever to reboot,” he complained as the monitor went dark. Immediately it lit up and started to come alive.

Please work
, Silas thought, anxious as he continued to stuff things in his belt pack with no regard to organization.

“It will work,” Allen said, fidgeting. “It's Silas's program. They never fail. Let's go!”

But Summer remained before the glowing screen, breathless as the systems came up and alive. He had just trashed the academy's grading computer. Silas felt good, and bad . . . and he was glad that Summer was with him.

Please
 . . . he thought as the system came alive. And then a message box flashed up.

ERROR. REBOOT.

“It's good. Can we go now?” Allen demanded.

Summer exhaled, the soft sound going to Silas's core and igniting him. One by one, the programs began to shut down again. It had worked.

“Let's go.” Summer breezed out to the hall, almost jogging. Jerking into motion, Silas followed, leaving Allen to finish swabbing the door free of their prints. His feet hardly seemed to touch the floor, and he moved without effort. It wasn't the high of a successful task, it was the chance they might be able to make this work, to be together as they wanted. He wanted this, she wanted this. It was right. It was perfect.

Thank God Peri had a reason for being here yesterday, or this wouldn't have gotten past the front door
, he thought, then,
Thank God she had hit me with the drone.

They slipped out the way they'd come in, spurred on by Peri's cheerful chatter just a hallway away. Together they spilled into the night, Summer and Silas hustling into the dark as Allen wiped down the door and intercom. He slipped out of sight just as Peri and the night guard turned the corner into the hallway.

Silas held his breath as Peri's voice became louder. Summer's warmth was beside him, her excitement adding to his. Whatever happened now, it had been worth it.

“I can't believe we just did that,” Allen whispered as he settled nearby, making Silas feel like a hulking giant.

“It's good to be bad,” Summer said, her teeth catching the light as she smiled, and Silas nodded, his arm slipping around her, pulling her closer.

They froze as the door buzzed and then opened. “Thank you so much,” Peri was gushing, the overhead light illuminating her. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“I'm glad it was still there.” The night guard hung halfway through the open door. “Have a good night, and good luck with your studies.”

“Thanks!” she said expansively. “Bye!”

She turned away, her face losing its light cast as the shadows took her, a dangerous glint blossoming in its place. Silas's own expression went still as he recognized the depth of her determination, her focus. There was no play in her, no farce, not like there had been in Allen and Summer. Seeing her pacing away from the locked door, Silas realized she would have knocked that man cold if she had needed to, fought him, maybe even shot him with his own weapon to protect them. But she hadn't. She was good enough not to need to.

And she trusted us to do the same
, he realized, not knowing if that had been the smart thing to do. Peri was far more invested in this than Allen ever was about anything.

Uneasy, Silas made a soft noise as she passed them, and she flicked her fingers, acknowledging him even as she continued on as if oblivious.

“Let's go.” Allen touched his arm, and they backed up before turning and walking away.

Oblivious to the strength of Peri's commitment, Allen almost danced across the dark campus. “That was so
sweet
!” he exclaimed, hardly above a whisper. “Damn, I love my life.”

Laughing, Summer pointed out Peri, and they angled toward her.

“You did it, yes?” Peri asked as they closed the gap and halted under a lone streetlight.

Summer nodded, looking beautiful as the two women exchanged phones. “I sent the drone into the ocean, and trashed the controlling app already.”

“Thanks.” Peri checked her messages, head jerking up when Silas grabbed Summer, spinning her around in a shrieking circle and pulling her into him as they came to a happy halt. She was soft against him, and laughing, and, not letting go, Silas took a wipe from his pocket and cleaned the black smut from Summer's face. A new closeness made his motions more tender, loving, as he traced her lines, and, sensing it, she smiled at him, the happiness and relief in her warming him.

Unable to resist, he pulled her closer and gave her a kiss, his passion kindling deeper as she responded as if they were alone, pressing into him with a fervent tension. He would never let her go.

But she reluctantly pulled back a little, remaining in his arms even as she used the same wipe to take the smut from his face in turn. “I hope this works,” she said, eyes flicking behind him to where Allen stood, quiet as he cleaned the incriminating black lines from himself.

“It has to,” Silas said, letting Summer go as he realized Peri was carefully not watching them as well. “No one has ever done it before. That has to count for something.”

“So who wants to go for a beer?” Allen said, the glow from his phone lighting his face as he checked the time. “We've got almost an hour before last call.”

As if nothing bad could ever happen, they turned to cross campus, arm in arm and laughing like the drunken students scattered about. “ ‘This is bad for my asthma'?” Silas said, poking fun at Peri, and the woman flushed, her embarrassment overshadowed by the obvious pleasure of having found her place among new friends.

But her reply never came, and her expression fell.

Allen halted, swearing, and Silas and Summer scuffed to a halt, following their companions' attention across campus to the upperclassman apartments.

There were cars parked askew in the lot before the building's main door, and people were standing in the glow of headlamps.

CHAPTER

FIVE

S
ilas's thick hands clenched as he stood in the small kitchen, refusing to sit in the living room like a chastised little boy. Summer called it a fanny-bumper kitchen, and he took up the space nearly in its entirety, hunched and angry as the accusations mounted and the night went from bad to worse.

The small apartment had hosted larger parties, but the venom pouring from Professor Milo combined with Professor Woo's frustration made it claustrophobic. Peri's advocate, an old man in his seventies named Dr. Cavana, had been a silent, closed pillar standing behind the small woman, but the deference the other two were showing him was enough to give Silas pause.

The wrinkle-lined man had arrived earlier that evening, called in by the two professors to discuss Peri's probable involvement in the previous day's drone incident. Failing to find her, he and Professor Milo had tracked her down to the empty apartment and the thwarted, chipped wristbands. Milo's anger over the wristbands was nothing compared to the outpouring when the tech call came in about the mainframe's failure. That had been about twenty minutes ago.

Silas's eyes went to the ceiling vent when the air conditioner clicked on. Mood bad, he reached out and turned it off so he could see Professor Milo sweat in the coat and tie he'd put on for the dignitary. A lump showed on his right arm where he'd been bandaged, and Silas didn't feel any remorse at all that he had it in a sling.

Coming into the small kitchen, Summer swayed around him in a familiar dance, eyebrows high as she flicked the air conditioner back on again.

Silas ignored the heated argument between the two retired Opti agents, bending close over Summer to breathe in the scent of her hair. It still held the hint of that hideous perfume from the manager's office. “You always were the smarter of us,” he said as she poured coffee into two mugs. His eyes flicked to the silent, tall man behind Peri, wondering why the mismatched mugs bothered him. They never had before.

Summer's hands were steady as she extended the full mugs to him and nodded toward Allen and Peri. Exhaling heavily, he took them, shoulders back in unrepentance as he passed within feet of Professor Milo.
Why do you hate me so much, old man?

Peri beamed up at him, sitting in Summer's reading chair with her arms draped across it as if nothing were wrong. “Thanks, Silas,” she said as she reached for the offered coffee. But he couldn't help but notice she set it aside untasted.

“Allen?” he prompted, and Allen looked up from where he sat perched at the front of the couch, his elbows on his knees as his fate was decided.

“No, thanks. I want to sleep tonight,” he muttered, and Silas kept the mug, retreating to stand before the tiny fireplace where he could see everyone. In the kitchen, Summer made a second pot of coffee, desperately trying to do something normal.

That they had removed Allen's and Summer's chipped bracelets wasn't a direct link to the malfunctioning mainframe, but that didn't seem to matter to Professor Milo.

“You will be expelled for this, Dr. Denier,” Professor Milo said, face red. “Removed from the program entirely.”

Fat chance
, Silas thought as Professor Woo drew himself up in anger. “You can't do that, Milo,” he said, and Milo looked the smaller man up and down in threat.

“No? See if I don't.”

Head craned, Professor Woo pushed into Milo's space, almost shoving the taller man onto the couch. “I have listened to you rant for twenty minutes now. Get off my student's back. It's a year-end prank. Let it go at that.”

“Prank!” Milo became choleric. “They destroyed an entire semester's grades.”

“Prove it,” Allen muttered, and behind Peri, Dr. Cavana chuckled, hiding it with a cough.

Professor Woo backed up, his expression grim. “I checked into it while you were on your tirade. It doesn't need rebuilding. The system is in a reboot spiral. Whoever did it can undo it. Your reactions are not based on the current situation but on your bruised pride, and I
won't
let you kick Denier out of the program because he's smarter than you and you can't handle it.”

Speechless, Professor Milo stared at the slight man, his face flushed as his darting gaze read amusement all around. His eyes fastened on Silas, and the hatred poured from him.

Thanks. That helps a lot, Professor Woo.

Dr. Cavana bent at the waist, his lips near Peri's ear as he touched her shoulder and said, “Doesn't take you long, does it.”

Leaning to the side, she beamed up at him. “I was trying to make friends.”

Sighing, he straightened, hand still atop her shoulder. “Maybe I should transfer out here,” he said, and Peri's expression froze as his ­fingers gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Or do you think you can keep from antagonizing the apple cart from here on out.”

Silas's eyebrows rose. Two sentences. That's all the punishment she had needed. Peri, while clearly not about to subscribe to a halo, would be more careful in her independence, if only to make sure she maintained it. It was a warning well heard.

“Are we being questioned?” Silas suddenly asked. “Is this a formal hearing? If not, I'd like you all to leave.”

“Silas,” Summer quietly protested, but he was well within his rights, and they all knew it.

Dr. Cavana cleared his throat to speak, but Professor Milo nervously blurted, “I see no reason to take this outside academia. Silas will be removed from the program—”

“On what grounds?” Allen protested, jaw clenching when Milo turned his anger to him. “You can't prove we had anything to do with anything.”

“Tampering with and removing an underclassman's security bracelet. Interfering with six students' finals. Give me time,” Milo said forcefully. “I'll come up with more. You and Summer will remain on probation and will be required to repeat the entire semester, since we seem to be unable to access your grades. And as for Reed?”

Peri looked up from under her bangs, placidly waiting.

“There is no way I will approve accelerating her studies,” Professor Milo said, missing the danger as he was focused on Peri and not Dr. Cavana behind her. “She can start with the freshmen like every other incoming student.”

Peri looked up and behind her at Dr. Cavana with an easy expectance. Silas could almost see her silent communication:
I'll behave if you get me out of this.

“That is not what is going to happen,” Dr. Cavana said calmly. “I warned you not to underestimate her, and you housed her with beginners and maybes,” he said, his tone edging into disgust. “She found the excellence among your ranks and took them somewhere new, as I trained her. If you force her to stay with the freshmen, you will have four years of this, not one.” Lips in a wry smile, he turned to Professor Woo. “You're right. I'm beginning to see where the issues are stemming from.”

“How dare you,” Milo said, and Silas stiffened at the rising tension.

“
How dare I?
” Dr. Cavana thundered, and Silas jumped, startled at the depth of the old man's voice. “How dare you! Setting your students against each other for chocolates and calling it a final exam. Did you even see what happened, Milo, when a true threat rose? I saw the record. They became one unit. They protected! They minimized! They succeeded in the spirit of the goal. I see excellence where you see deficiency. You are hung up on checked boxes and to-do lists of protocol and method when you should be fostering the ability to improvise. Perhaps you need to take a sabbatical.”

For three long seconds, Professor Milo gaped at him, hands shaking. Then he turned to Silas, face grim with promise. “No one is too valuable to be sacrificed, Silas. I might not be able to kick you out, but I can cut off your funding. You will
never
have the chance to prove your insane theories and will forever be chained to my lab bench.”

He turned to go, and Silas forced his hands to unclench. “Professor Milo?”

“What?” The angry man spun, and Silas clasped his hands behind his back.

“It's Dr. Denier, if you don't mind.”

Professor Milo left, slamming the door behind him, awkward with his arm in a sling.

Summer slumped against the kitchen counter, arms over her chest as she stared at the ceiling.

Dr. Cavana gave Peri a pat on the shoulder. “I like your new friends,” he said as he ambled to the door. “Try not to get them expelled.”

Silas watched him adjust his tie, his free hand surreptitiously touching his side as if checking for a sidearm.
Old habits die hard
, he thought. Cavana had probably been active in the eighties, and he resolved to look him up. Cold War agents were a unique, dying breed. But the old man hesitated at the threshold, his gaze lingering on the defunct wristbands sitting on the kitchen counter like guilt itself. “Which one of you figured out how to circumvent the bio-based tamper fence?” he asked, and Silas cleared his throat, liking the old man.

An eyebrow rose. Grunting his approval, he bowed his head over his cell phone as he went into the hall. Silas looked closer.
A glass phone? Since when did those exist?

Allen jostled Peri with his elbow. “Where did he get a glass phone?”

Peri snorted, clearly not impressed. “Pretty, huh? It doesn't work for crap,” she said.

“Woo, can you give me a ride back to my hotel?” Dr. Cavana asked from the hallway, leaving the door open and clearly expecting the man to follow.

Professor Woo started, eyes wide as the remainder of his night was rearranged for him. “Yes, sir. May I have a moment?”

Oh, really . . .
Silas thought as Peri caught his eye and smugly shrugged. Perhaps their new friend had more clout than they realized.

“Take your time!” Cavana called, his voice becoming fainter, but Woo grimaced, his pace fast as he crossed the room to slide the defunct cuffs from the counter into his hands.

“ ‘Take your time,' ” Professor Woo muttered. “Last time I checked, that meant,
Hustle your ass
.” Hand on Silas's back, he drew him to the door. “You do know he invented the technology behind these, right?” he asked as he jiggled the cuffs and dropped them in a pocket.

Silas shook his head, Dr. Cavana's last look at him taking on new meaning. But Professor Woo had drawn him into the building's empty hallway, his expression holding a surprising, shared pain. “Silas, I have an idea of what you're feeling,” he said as he turned him away from Peri and Allen. “That you think your size and your skills in the labs are dictating the limits of your life, but they aren't.”

“I fail to understand how they are not, Professor,” Silas said. “How can you possibly know what I'm feeling?”

“You don't see it.” He shifted his coat aside as he put his hands on his hips. “That's nice. Gives me hope. Silas, I went active during the Cold War.”

Silas gave him a questioning look. “And?” he prompted, still not getting it.

“An Asian?” Professor Woo said, eyebrows high. “During the Cold War? I never got a single task. Fully trained, then shelved into academia. Too valuable, they said, but I knew it was because of what I looked like. It was hard, Silas. I hated it, but it was the closest I could get to what I was meant for, so I stayed, helpless to change anything. Or so I thought.”

Silas let his shoulders slump. There was no silver lining.

“I know how it feels to want something and be denied simply because of how you look,” Woo said. “But you
will
make a difference. Trust me. Something good will come of it.”

“What good came of you being stuck in a dead-end job for forty years?” Silas said bitterly, not expecting an answer. But a wicked smile curved on Professor Woo's thin lips.

“Milo has seniority on paper, but as you say, I've been here forty years. I run the place through favors owed and ground-floor knowledge.” Woo glanced past Silas into the apartment, to where Allen and Peri commiserated glumly. “I know every single agent Opti has, their weaknesses and strengths. Their needs. You think Milo has any real pull inside these walls? No.” Professor Woo's eyes came back to Silas. “Which is very good for you, yes?”

Head down, Silas was silent. It wasn't what he
wanted
.

Slowly Professor Woo's smile faded. “Don't worry about Professor Milo,” he said. “He can't remove you from the program. We'll talk about this Monday, okay? Oh, and, ah, no one leaves the campus.”

Silas nodded, but it was only to get the man to leave. Maybe Professor Milo couldn't remove him from the program, but he could cut off his funding. And whereas Silas wouldn't be chained to the professor's lab bench, if he couldn't prove his theory, he wouldn't have the letters behind his name to rise much further than he was.

Professor Woo shifted his weight, clearly anxious to rejoin Dr. Cavana. “You can take the system out of the spiral, right?” he asked.

To say yes would be an admission of guilt, but the school would find something to link them to the act, even if it had to be invented. “Takes two minutes,” Silas said.

“Good.” Professor Woo touched his arm in parting. “You're the best Opti has. Quit screwing around.” Saying nothing more, he turned and left, his pace fast with deference.

His steps slow as he thought, Silas went back into his apartment and shut the door. Thank God the semester was over and he wouldn't have to deal with the gossip. At least not until everyone came back.

Allen exhaled loudly as the whine of Woo's electric car rose high and irritating. “We're going to be legends.”

Peri snickered, rolling her eyes.

“Excuse me,” Summer said, voice quavering as she quickly paced to the bedroom. The door shut hard and Silas slumped.

He wasn't going to let this go. If he had to fight for what he wanted, he would.