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There was that tingle again.
Eliana slid the curtains aside. Warm air brushed across her knuckles.
“This window isn’t closed all the way,” she said.
“No,” said Lady Luna. “It never has.”
“So it doesn’t lock?”
Lady Luna shook her head.
Eliana grabbed hold of the window and pushed. The window slid open, scraping against the frame. The wind blew into the room, bringing with it the dried-herb scent of the grass.
She turned to the andie. “Was that the scratching you heard? Sounded like seven seconds to me.”
He glanced at Lady Luna, whose expression did not change. “It could have been, yes.”
“It didn’t occur to you that was the sound of a window opening?”
The andie’s expression went slack.
“You opened it from the inside,” Lady Luna said. “It’s almost impossible to do from outside. And besides, he didn’t hear anything else.”
Eliana frowned. “Give me a minute.” Eliana shoved her shoulders through the window and looked down. The grass grew right up to the base of the house, but it was trampled there, the stalks bent and broken. She remembered the path she’d cut through the grass herself, the sound of the grass crunching under her feet, and her heartbeat quickened.
No path led to the window, but someone had certainly stood here.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and then she pushed herself through the window completely, landing in the grass. Lady Luna cried out in surprise. Eliana readjusted her skirt and looked to find the andie standing in the window, watching her. Creepy.
She pushed the feeling aside and felt around in the grass, her heart hammering. Every nerve in her body jangled with anticipation, and she forgot about Lady Luna and the andie. The only thing she cared about was finding the answer.
She crawled parallel to the house, plunging into the grass. It brushed rough and dry against her face and pricked her through her clothes. Whatever had made the impression in the grass had dropped out of the sky, she was certain. Definitely a robot. Not like the andie, but the sort she was used to, the drones they kept up at the top of the dome for repairs. The ones that buzzed around like insects.
It would have dropped out of the sky, pulled open the window, and slid inside. The dome robots were designed to stay silent, because you didn’t want people knowing they existed.
But it wouldn’t have done this on its own. Robots couldn’t steal, not even the more modern ones. Only humans could. Eliana had learned that quickly enough on this job. And if she wanted to find the human who’d programmed the robot before Lady Luna’s documents leaked to all of Hope City, she didn’t have time to ambush every power plant and maintenance center in the domes clustered over the desert. Hell, she didn’t have the ability to do that even if there weren’t a deadline.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered, turning back to the flattened patch of grass by the window. There had to be something.
But there wasn’t. Only grass, wind, the andie’s watchful stare.
Eliana stood up, brushing bits of broken grass off her stockings. Lady Luna had joined the andie in the window and was watching her with alarm.
“Have you gone mad?” she asked.
“It was a robot,” Eliana said. “Not like—” She gestured at her robot. “One of the newer maintenance ones, most likely. The flying ones. But I don’t have the evidence to track it to its source. It could’ve come from anywhere.”
“No,” the andie said.
“What?” Eliana narrowed her eyes. “How else could someone get in? The grass is flattened. That’s where it landed—”
“Pardon me,” the andie said. “I wasn’t criticizing your theory. I was trying to say that it could not have come from anywhere.”
Eliana’s cheeks burned, but she stood up straight. “What do you mean?”
“The sort you’re talking about—the flying sort. There aren’t many in the city. Most crawl.” The andie made a spidery motion with his fingers. “The flying ones all operate out of the city offices. As you mentioned, they’re quite a new model. They’ve only been around the last few months.”
“Yeah,” Eliana said.
“Forgive me if I seemed brusque. I only wished to rectify your mistake. You said we should not let any information go unmentioned.”
Eliana nodded, although she still felt sore about him correcting her. Lady Luna smiled up at the andie, moved her lips with something Eliana couldn’t hear. Maybe “Thank you.” The andie was right, though. Eliana wouldn’t have to beat down every power plant in Hope City. She wouldn’t have to beat down anything. Maria worked for the city, as a secretary in the budget office. She’d gotten information for Eliana before.
Warm wind blew through the grass, tossing Eliana’s hair into her face. She was giddy again, the andie be damned.
“Lady Luna,” Eliana said. “I’m going to get those documents back for you. Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll have them in hand. I swear it.”
And Lady Luna gave her a look that might have been doubt, might have been desperation, might have been anything.
CHAPTER THREE
SOFIA
Sofia had not been to this part of the city in a long time. She doubted she had ever been to this particular building, with its imported brown brick, its wide glass windows. It was the tallest building for several blocks. Height was always a mark of wealth in Hope City.
The walkway leading to the building’s glass door was lined with lavender. Imported from Europe. Expensive. Sofia trailed her fingers across the top of the plants to release the scent.
The door was locked. Sofia read each label on the buzzer until she came to LUIS VILLANUEVA. She pressed the button and waited.
“Yeah?”
“It’s your four o’clock appointment, Mr. Villanueva.”
He didn’t question her further, just as Cabrera had promised. The buzzer chimed and the glass door slid open. Sofia slipped inside. The lobby was decorated in the earth tones no lifelong citizen of Hope City had ever seen in nature, browns and blues and greens. A woman sat alone on a tasteful brocaded sofa, reading. She glanced up at the sound of Sofia’s heels on the tile. The woman didn’t speak, didn’t smile, but she watched as Sofia clicked her way toward the elevators. Sofia pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor and glanced over her shoulder. The woman looked away, back down to the glossy magazine spread open on her lap.
Sofia memorized her face. It was necessary to account for certain contingencies.
She rode all the way to the twenty-eighth floor alone. It took longer than she’d expected, and as she waited to arrive, she pulled a compact out of her handbag and checked her reflection. She didn’t wear any face powder because she didn’t need it, but she had applied liner and lashes and lipstick for the first time in years. She had styled her hair in the ma
She wasn’t going to fuck this up. Everything hinged on this one moment, on convincing Cabrera that he could trust her completely.
The elevator chimed and the doors opened. Sofia stepped into the hallway. One of the light fixtures flickered, casting staccato shadows across the carpet. She walked to room 2848 and knocked three times, as Cabrera had instructed. She had just pulled her hand away after the third knock when Luis Villanueva answered, music spilling out around him.
Music.
For a moment Sofia froze—but it wasn’t a melody she recognized. Something new, something modern. Rock and roll, she thought it was called. Those songs were never dangerous.
“You’re not Alissa,” he said, face twisting into concern. His eyes darted out into the hallway.