CHAPTER THIRTY
Slade's Bunker, Palmyra, Eastern UT December 9, 2308 14:06:57 (T-Minus 03:15:53:03)
Slade had not even put his groceries away when he heard the chirp from his Tablet indicating an email. One hand still on the fridge door handle, he froze in place, listening intently for sounds that should not be in his bunker. The space of ten breaths passed before he let go, satisfied that there was no one inside with him.
He walked over to the Tablet, but paused, deciding that caution was the better part of valor, or however that ancient quote went. He touched his chronometer.
"Sarah, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Slade. How can I be of assistance?"
"I just received an email. Can you trace the sender? I need to know if it's from Control."
"Working. One moment, please."
Slade woke his Tablet from sleep, and stared at it, the red flashing light blinking at him every three seconds. He began to pace and was almost at the far end of the bunker when Sarah came back to him.
"Slade, I have no idea who sent the email. It is protected with encryption that I can't decode."
"Okay. Thank you, Sarah."
It was a game of chance. There was a possibility that Control had sent The Letter directly to his Tablet, but all he had to do is not touch the Tablet once the email was open and he would be fine. Deciding to risk it, he opened the email program and waited as it downloaded the message to his Tablet. There was only one recent email, and it was from an unknown source. The subject line caught his attention immediately:
Open for your protection.
He touched the line, and the email opened:
From: (
[email protected])
To: 0247893 (
[email protected])
Subject: Open for your protection
Emissary 0247893,
It seems that you have run into a bit of a problem after your last Delivery. Know that I am on your side, and I want to help. For your protection, you must track down the Emissary that is after you, and demand answers from her. I know about the missing time from your chronometer, but I cannot divulge more here. Find 0256773 and seek your answers
OM
What the? Slade read the email again, and then a third time. While he knew who was after him with reference to his Letter, to have it confirmed by an outside source was unnerving. And then there was the mention of the missing time from his Delivery. Someone else knew about it. Which makes it even weirder considering Control couldn't find it. At least he wasn't crazy.
His next step was clearly evident: Track down the Emissary who wanted to Deliver to him, and persuade her to talk with him instead of killing him. That didn't sound too hard. He had two choices: wait for her to find him, which gave her the advantage, or go after her and take the advantage away from her. There was no competition between those two choices whatsoever.
He sat at his desk and brought up his terminal. Accessing the internet, he accessed the iCorps database, but paused at the login screen.
"Sarah, I need all of the information on Alexandra sent to my terminal."
"Alexandra who?"
"She inhabits 020215, the room beside me. Can you get her iCorps login information?"
"Working."
While he waited, he surfed over to the local news site. The front page of the Times had the headline: HORRIFIC CRASH CLAIMS LIFE. There was a full color picture of a state-issued hover that had been turned on its side from the impact with- Slade paused, staring at the picture. Was that a wheeled vehicle? That was as low-tech as it came. Low tech meant untraceable. He scanned the article trying to learn what had happened.
HORRIFIC CRASH CLAIMS LIFE
Lydia Steed, Times Reporter
The idyllic Palmyra community of Glendale was rocked by the sounds of screeching rubber and bending metal this morning as the first hover accident in over fifty years claimed the life of an unidentified male.
Witnesses say the state-issued hover was travelling westbound on Oleander when a wheeled truck failed to stop at the intersection at Harrison, impacting with the Hover's passenger side. The force of the impact drove the two vehicles onto the lawn of Mr. C. N. Sharpe, who stated the crash "sounded like a plane exploding".
There were signs of a struggle, but no one is able to determine whether the man, who appears to be in his forties died from the impact, or from external sources. The investigation continues today. The intersection will be blocked off for the remainder of the week, and both vehicles have been transported to iCorps maintenance facility for further study.
That settled it. First step, get that truck. Second step, track down 0256773. Slade minimized the window, switching back to the iCorps login screen.
"Sarah, I need that information. How much longer?"
"Patience is a virtue," she chided mockingly.
"Not right now it isn't."
There was a triple chirp, and Alexandra's information appeared on the screen in front of Slade. He hastily copied it down in the notes application on his Tablet, and pressed Enter on the keyboard. Working quickly, he accessed the database, and found the identification plate for the hover. Running it through the system, he traced it back to The College - a unit designated for foreign Emissaries here on official business. That has to be her, Slade thought. And she's still alive. The news said male, not female.
The document also contained information on the truck, a 2267 Hoyota Ridgoma. It appeared that there was some damage to the front of the truck from the impact, but it had fared better than the ultra-light hover. It would be useful. Switching gears, he accessed the staff database for the maintenance facility, pulling up pictures of the male staff and sending them to his Tablet. He would head over, and, feigning retrieval of a confiscated vehicle, determine who was on duty.
He grabbed the duffle bag from underneath the shelves. He might need this. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and headed up the stairs and out to Sarah.