Kill Switch: Chapter 33
The Warmth of a Thousand Suns
I’m sitting at Yide’s bedside, telling her how fucked we are, when Claudette and Bunnfield walk into the room.
“Feel any better, Yide?” Claudette asks.
Yide sits up, putting on a brave face. “Better,” she says. “I think the balm is helping.” She glances down at the bandages on her arms and legs. “I got lucky, you know. The shrapnel didn’t pierce any vital organs. Give me a day or two, and I’ll be good as new.” Her face drops as she tosses her glance toward me. “Although, if what Vonn says is true, it doesn’t sound like any of us will be alive in a day or two.”
“That’s what we came to talk about,” Bunnfield says. “We didn’t want to say anything in front of Elijah, but we might know a way we can break into headquarters. It’s a longshot. And damn risky. But we think it’s worth a try.”
“Alright,” I say. “I’m listening.”
“It has to do with Elijah’s father,” Claudette says.
“Elijah’s father,” Yide says. “Didn’t he design dNet?”
“Yes,” Bunnfield says, sliding into an ergonomic chair. “And he also designed the security apparatus that guards headquarters.”
“I think I see where you’re going with this,” I say. “Elijah reunites with his father and tortures him into shutting down dNet. Easy peasy.” I brush my hands against each other. “Problem solved. Let’s do it.”
“Well,” Bunnfield says, scrunching his forehead, “not exactly. Elijah refuses to be in the same room as his father, and what’s more, I don’t think we’d need to torture Orson to get the information we need. He might just willingly hand it over. You see, a couple weeks ago, when Elijah’s cover was blown, Orson reached out to us in The Vacuum. He wanted to talk to Elijah.”
“But Elijah refused,” Claudette says. “Because he thought it was a trap.”
“How do we know it’s not?” Yide asks.
“We don’t,” Bunnfield says, “which is why we didn’t push the point at the time, but now, with war on the brink, I think we should make contact. The message said that he lives in the hills. He sent the coordinates. Cosmo plugged in the location to a GPS, and it looks like we could make it there in a couple hours.”
A rumble rattles the walls, sending dust falling to the ground. “That is, of course, if we don’t get hit by an explosion on the way,” I say.
Another rumble, and then quiet.
I cough to break the silence. “Well, alright, I think it’s as good a plan as any. We can’t just sit around, waiting to die.” I glance at Bunnfield. “It might be good for the two of us to go together. What do you think?”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking,” Bunnfield says. “Claudette can stay back, just in case something happens to us, and Cosmo can be on the SAT Phone, acting as our eyes and ears.”
“What about me?” Yide asks. “What am I supposed to do? Just sit on my ass? I don’t think so.” She throws off the covers. “I’m coming too.”
I glance at Bunnfield, and then Claudette.
“Oh come on,” Yide says, “Efficiency knows that you two need some common sense out there.”
“I tend to agree with Yide,” Claudette says. “Imagining the two of you out there alone, making decisions, does not inspire confidence.”
Yide claps. “It’s settled then.”
And I don’t protest, because even though I don’t want anything bad to happen to Yide, the thought of her beside me fills me with the warmth of a thousand suns.
“One last thing,” I say. “Last night, when I was making me way up the mountain, I saw a strange green monster out there. Is that something we should be concerned about?”
Claudette glances at Bunnfield.
“Sounds like you saw Abzu,” Bunnfield says. “He has a habit of appearing when you drink his magic tea. He’s not real. Just a hallucination.”
“Who’s to say he’s not real?” Claudette asks.
Bunnfield rolls his eyes. “Now is not the time for a religious debate, Claudette.”
“All I’m saying, it’s weird, you know, that half the people who drink his tea end up seeing him.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that everyone who drinks the tea sees the same thing,” Bunnfield says. “I mean, you have to account for the variations.”
“What variations?” I ask.
“Well, you know, like, some people see him as blue, some as green. Some people see him as a monster, others as a bright light. What I mean, we use the word Abzu to describe a whole host of hallucinations.”
“He morphs,” Claudette says. “He changes. He’s a god, after all. He has the ability to shapeshift.”
“According to you he does,” Bunnfield says. “But that’s your personal interpretation. Me, I think it’s all just drug insanity.”
“To be insane in an insane world is a sign of sanity,” Claudette says. “That’s always been my take on the matter.”
“Here’s to that,” Yide says, raising a glass of water.