Kriegspiel [Sequel to The Turing Test]

8. Sewer Rats

The only sound between Dr. Kayode and me is the scuff of our feet on the rungs of the metal ladder that leads down into the city's sewer system. I make no effort to speak, too busy relishing the feel of the bumpy, rusted metal under my hands. I never appreciated the sensory input the pads of my fingers provided until it was gone. With the metal exposed, I could only feel what my eyes could have told me—the presence or absence of something large, like a chunk missing out of the stone wall. But now, I feel every little minute divot and pockmark of the metal, and for a moment, it overwhelms me.

"What's the matter?"

I look up at Ayo's question, realizing that I've paused in my descent. One of her feet dangles above my head, ready to take the next step down once I begin moving again.

"Sorry. Nothing. I'm not used to having real fingers." I let out a small breath and continue downwards, hand over hand until we reach the bottom.

"A sewer," Ayo comments, her expensive loafers making a rather plebeian splat as she steps off the ladder beside me and clicks a flashlight to life. "Original."

It's a silly, off-the-cuff comment, but it sends my doubts fluttering back up my throat again. For a moment, I'm certain I've made a huge mistake. She works with Sven—and whether or not they trust each other, he at least trusts her enough to hand me off to her for repairs. What if he's waiting to pick me up when we get back? I'd be leading us all into his hands, including Davis.

She's right about one thing, though: I'm running out of choices. I don't even know if Davis is still alive. His time speeds closer with every hesitation in my steps, so I push on. My hands drag at the damp walls, accumulating black grit and grime, but I don't care. I speed up, until we come to the fork where the sewer splits off into a service tunnel that eventually empties into the subway system.

The wet squish of our shoes turns to skittering gravel as we step out onto the railroad tracks, and I reach over to place my hand over the beam of Ayo's light. She fights me for a moment, but I yank it away and flick it off.

"We stay dark from here on," I whisper.

"But—"

"I'm trusting you with a dozen lives," I cut her off. "The least you can do is trust me on this."

That shuts her up, and I continue dragging my hand along the wall in peace. When the wall beneath my fingers vanishes abruptly, I fumble in the darkness for Ayo's arm and pull her off the main track. My steps slow, treading as lightly as possible. Even the tiniest whisper of gravel shifting underfoot echoes in the cavernous tunnel.

As the orange glow of flames ahead begins to lick the walls, I pull to a stop. "Wait here," I whisper, then lift my hands away from my sides as I step around the corner and into their view.

"Whoever you are, don't move!"

I recognize Maven's voice the second the fire makes my shadow fall behind me instead of in eerie, faded shapes along the walls.

I halt, gravel sliding under my feet as I raise my hands higher. "It's me!"

For a moment, they only stare with narrowed eyes, various lopsided pieces of track clutched in their hands as makeshift weapons. Looking back at them, I realize how woefully unprepared we were, living down here like rats and praying that no one ever happened upon us. What would we have done? Ripped flaming kindling out of the fire and expected it to match their guns?

A silhouette detaches itself from the rest, rushing from the back of the scraggly group, stumbling toward me. Even with the backlight of the fire throwing his features into shadow, I recognize Davis.