Wired (10 page)

She tiptoed up behind Deadhead and swiftly wrapped an elbow around him, yanking him backward in a forceful headlock. “Hey, wha—,” he cried in alarm.

“I don't know what you losers are doing, but it's not going to happen,” Gaia growled. She could hear the nervous lilt to her voice and didn't like the sound of it. She struggled to contain her emotions.

“Let me go,” Dead yelled, obviously forgetting all about causing a scene. That wouldn't do. Gaia didn't want the cops to come any more than he did. Cops would only lead to questions that she wasn't prepared to answer.

“Shut
up—,”
she ordered as one of the others whacked her in the back of her knees with whatever they'd been using to break the window. It was a cheap
trick, and she crumbled like a sack of potatoes.
Focus, Gaia, focus
, she commanded herself. She rolled to her right and swept her legs around, tripping and toppling Dead. Using the momentum of the roll, she leapt back to her feet, crouching into a ready position.

“Yo, what are you
on
, bitch?” Cargo Pants snarled, which was ironic given that the chances that he was high far outweighed the chances that she was. He lunged at her, and she grabbed his arms and wrestled him to the ground. Clinging to her elbows, he flipped them over in tandem so that he had her pinned. He hauled off and slammed down, missing her nose by inches.

Gaia tilted her head, absorbing the impact on her cheek. Her head ricocheted off the pavement and her ears rang.
That can't be good
, she thought briefly. She was losing ground—losing the fight—fast. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the smallest was creeping closer. Mustering a burst of reserve energy, she drew her legs into her chest and released with full force, the flats of her feet connecting solidly with his lower shins. He fell to the ground, clutching his legs and moaning. “Let's get out of here,” he whimpered.

Dead's eyes darted back and forth along the block. “Yeah. Someone definitely heard this. We gotta get out of here before the cops come.” He glared menacingly down at Gaia, picking himself up slowly and dusting his jeans off. “You got lucky, girl. We hafta hit the road.” He spat by way of punctuation.

She glared at him as ominously as she could. “Lucky, my ass.”

But the boys were already over it. They'd gathered their bag of tricks—whatever was in it was
seriously
heavy, Gaia knew firsthand, but they snatched it up and scampered away.

She exhaled slowly. Her ribs hurt, and she guessed a bruise was already forming on her cheek. But she'd stopped the burglary or whatever it was. That was something.

And oh, yeah. That level of exertion required to cause a total failure of Gaia's system? The one that dictated that she pass out after any scuffle? Yeah, Still fully functional. Before she could attempt to clear her head and drag her weary body to a semi-safe location, the familiar darkness set in and the world dropped away.

Memo

From:
L

To:
Team U

Re:
Genesis

Subject spotted downtown intercepting a breaking and entering. As per the norm, subject rendered unconscious by exertion.

Subject is not to be harmed under any circumstances. Order full-time surveillance, protection when necessary.

No one will hurt her.

ED HEARD THE DOORBELL RING BUT couldn't bring himself to rush to answer it. He knew his mother would race for the door, anyhow. She was so thrilled to have walking, talking, dating, and heck—even convalescing Ed back home that she didn't mind taking care of him in these small ways. Ed knew she'd be ecstatic to open the door to his “cute little girlfriend” and show Kai to his room. It didn't matter how many times he told her that he and Kai had broken up; Ed's mother was determined to imagine her son's teenage experience to be idyllic. Short-term paralysis notwithstanding, of course.

He was being bitter, he knew. The entire time he'd been wheelchair bound, he had resented his parents and his sister for being awkward and strange around him. Somehow they'd been embarrassed by his handicap, and since Ed himself was having a hard enough time dealing with it, he could have done with some more support from them. But it had never come.

Now, though, his parents couldn't dote on him enough. His sister, when she was home, cooed over him and teased him about what a lady-killer he'd become. She didn't seem to notice that he and Kai had regressed to the realm of the platonic. And every
time the phone rang or someone came to the door for Ed, the Fargos took it as another personal victory. They had won their son back from the land of the ill and disfigured.

Today was no exception. “Why, hello, Kai!” he could hear his mother trilling, a shade too enthusiastically.
Quelle
Donna Reed. Her shrill voice echoed off the tiles of the front hallway. “How
nice
of you to stop by! Ed's just gotten back—he's in his bedroom.”

It was a sure sign that they still, on some level, considered him an invalid: they had no qualms about sending girls straight to his bedroom. Maybe they were hoping they'd catch him in the throes of a passionate make-out session—proving his “recovery” complete, once and for all.

Come to think of it, it would be a fun theory to prove. Too bad there weren't any real, viable contenders these days.

There was a hearty rap at the door, followed by his mother's energetic singsong once again. He wondered if that level of perkiness was exhausting to her to maintain. “Ed? Ed, guess who's here?”

“I can't imagine,” he mumbled to himself, softly enough that neither Kai nor his mother would hear from the other side of the door.

The doorknob turned and the door slid open to reveal his mother's beaming face. “Ed, dear, you have a visitor. Are you up for it?” Wide, watery eyes told him
she expected that he would be. She turned her head away, speaking now directly to Kai again. “Go on, dear, he's in there. Just resting.” She all but patted Kai on the head and drifted off in the direction of the kitchen, humming to herself.

Kai's petite frame filled the doorway as she entered the room. Her hair was tied up in two braids and secured with ribbons. Her T-shirt bore the logo of a Nickelodeon cartoon—
The Wild Thornberrys
, maybe? It fit her snugly, in direct contrast to a pair of enormous red cargo cords that threatened to slip off her hips.

Ed found himself fleetingly wondering where Kai shopped. Assuming she was interested in going to the prom with him, he hoped she'd have something a little more grown up to wear.
Reality, Fargo
, he reminded himself. “Hi,” he offered. One moment more of silence and Kai would have wondered what was wrong. And Ed was incredibly determined that nothing actually
be
wrong. He was just a guy, asking his girlfriend to prom. Girl. Friend. Platonic. Casual. Cool. “Thanks for coming over,” he choked out.

“Of course.” She smiled. “We had to celebrate your emancipation.”

She was so good-natured. Christ, was that the problem? Did he need someone who was utterly unschooled in basic human niceties?

“Okay” he agreed, “but no more cookies. I think
you may have caused serious intestinal damage with that first one.”

“Liar,” she teased. “I've seen you put away lots more than that.”

He couldn't argue with the logic. “Yeah, true. But let's give it another day or two.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. What are we going to do, then, to celebrate? You're all healed and everything. We should party.” She peered at him, her face open and trusting. Ed knew she wasn't trying to manipulate him at all. She was genuinely happy to see him in recuperation mode, wanted the two of them to be friends. She was great.

“I know about a party,” he said.

She giggled. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Huge party. King, queen, cheesy themes, lame, watered-down punch. People dressed in outfits that will cause them to cringe when they look back in their yearbooks twenty years from now.”

“Now, that does sound like a party,” Kai agreed. “I might even have some baby blue eye shadow.” She laughed.

“That would be perfect,” Ed said. “So you're game, then? You're saying that you'd still like to be my date for the prom?”

She nodded. “Definitely. Remember? You're my Clyde. We'll have fun.”

He quickly crossed the room to where she stood and
hugged her tightly. “Excellent.” He kissed her forehead. “That's the best news I've heard since I've recuperated.”

Her embrace was so sincere that Ed all but gave into it, burying his head in her neck and taking in her clean scent. If his parents had walked in, Ed was sure they would have been relieved—finally, their son had been restored to red-blooded, daredevil, heartthrob status.

But they would have been mistaken. He was going to go to the prom with his hottie girl
friend
, simply and without complications. He was going to rent the corny tux and buy her a cheesy corsage. He was determined to enjoy himself… determined to suppress the nagging feeling that there was someone else he'd rather go with—as a friend or as more. Now that he'd asked and Kai had answered, Ed intended to do platonic prom the way it was supposed to be done.

With his determination firmly screwed in place, Ed figured, it couldn't be too long before his emotions fell in line as well. Right?

OLIVER RUBBED AT HIS EYES AND gazed back at the computer screen for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He had
some of the world's most skilled hackers in his network of partners, and once again they had not let him down. His operatives had uncovered the computer report that outlined plans to procure “more” samples of Gaia's DNA. “More” meaning they—whoever “they” were—already had “some.”

And he was pretty sure he knew how they had gotten it.

With a flash of anger he thought back to his interaction with Gaia near St. Vincent's. She had turned her back on him, shutting him out for what he suspected was truly once and for all. She had thought she was being secretive, but he knew. He knew she was up to something.

It was Loki who had originally given Gaia the gift of fear, some time ago. But Loki's gift had come in the form of a serum that emulated the chemical composition of fear. It had been false, smoke and mirrors, and Gaia had seen through the facade. But there must have been a new procedure—one that involved gene manipulation.

Loki had fears of his own. Namely that Gaia's genetic makeup—her unique,
invaluable
genetic makeup—had been altered irreparably.

His plants and hackers had recently discovered word on the cyberstreet of research for powerful new anti-anxietals. It couldn't be a coincidence. Just at the same time that madmen were cutting into his niece, treating her biochemical background like some kind of scientific
fun park. Just at the same time that the local burnouts were buzzing on a new drug called Invince.

A new drug that dulled the effects of fear.

He didn't think it was coincidence.

And he couldn't allow it to continue.

THE FIRST THING GAIA NOTICED WAS the light The light was wrong. As in, it was dark. Growing dark. Dusk She squinted and shook her head slowly, as if clearing out cobwebs.
Ow
. Okay, that was a bad idea. Shaking her head—however slowly—drew attention to the undeniable fact of sharp stabs of pain banging against the inside of her skull.
A headache
, she assessed.
Do I have a headache?

She reached up to touch the spot on her forehead that seemed to be the nexus of the problem area, only to be greeted with a nagging soreness in her arm.
Okay, more than just a headache
, she realized. With great care she eased herself to a seated position, taking
mental stock of every last twinge of discomfort. She was alarmed to find that there were quite a few and that they were manifest in most of her body's various extremities.
What happened?
she thought blearily.

Logic—and, of course, history—suggested that it was the postfight hangover she almost always experienced after a major physical exertion. It was rare for her to be so completely wiped as not to remember the fight itself, but she supposed it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Given the throbbing baseline of pain that thrummed through her skeleton insistently,
anything
was possible. More than possible. Likely.

She glanced around. Indeed, the light was wrong. It was nighttime.
Think, Gaia
, she commanded herself.
What's the last thing you remember?

The last thing she remembered was daylight and Ed's hospital room. Having a conversation with Ed. Wishing him well with Kai.
Crying
, she thought, filled with contempt and self-loathing at the memory. And then…

Walking home… and seeing the boys. Three of them. They had been breaking into a house. And in a moment of what was either supreme bravery or the most inane act of foolishness in which she had ever engaged, intercepting them.

Gaia had always suspected that she was at heart a coward. People mistook her willingness to go to bat as bravery, but she knew, intrinsically, that the opposite
of brave was not fearless. Fearlessness allowed her the luxury of avoiding bravery; to her, bravery meant putting aside fear and leaping into the fray. Through her fearlessness Gaia actually managed to avoid actively choosing bravery. It was almost ironic.

Today, not once but twice, Gaia had managed to be brave. Either that or deeply stupid. Possibly both. She had deliberately thrown herself into conflict on two separate occasions this afternoon. Despite being terrified at the moment of intervention.

Only now it was this evening. She took a deep breath and found that when she inhaled, even her ribs hurt. Fabulous. Now that the details of the fight were flooding back to her, she peered more closely up and down the street.