Plague

Despite himself Virtue very nearly smiled. “Fine. Be that way, Wisdom.”

“Don’t use my slave name.” It was an old joke between them. Sanjit had been born Sanjit, a homeless Hindu street kid in Buddhist Bangkok. When the actors Jennifer Brattle and Todd Chance had adopted him, they’d given him an aspirational name: Wisdom.

It never had fit. Wisdom meant . . . well, wisdom.

“You’re not looking at the bright side, Choo,” Sanjit said. He had in fact just spotted the bright side.

“Bright side? There’s no bright side. What bright side?”

“Girls, Choo,” Sanjit said, smiling hugely. “You’ll understand in a few years.”

Lana had come around the back of the hotel and was throwing a tennis ball to her dog. They were outlined against the faint glow of western horizon, and illuminated by the light of the moon just coming from behind the hills.

“I’m going to refuse to do puberty,” Virtue grumbled. “It makes you stupid.”

Sanjit barely heard him. He was walking toward Lana.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Lana snapped. “No one comes to Clifftop without me saying so.”

Sanjit said, “You missed a beautiful sunset.”

“It’s an illusion,” Lana said. “It’s not the real sun. None of it’s real. The moon, the stars, all of it.”

“Still beautiful, though.”

“Fake.”

“But beautiful.”

Lana glared at him. And Sanjit had to admit: the girl could glare. The pistol in her waistband definitely added to the tough-girl look. But more it was that hurt-but-defiant expression.

“So asking you to take a moonlit walk with me, that would totally not work?”

“What?” Again that glare. “Go away. Stop being an idiot. I don’t even know you.”

“You’re healing my little brother Bowie.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make us friends, kid.”

“So no moonlight.”

“Are you retarded?”

“Sunrise? I could get up early.”

“Go away.”

“Sunset tomorrow?”

“Just what is your problem, kid? Do you know who I am? No one messes with me.”

“Do you know my name?”

“Which part of ‘go away’ do you not get? I could shoot you and no one would even say anything.”

“It’s Sanjit. It’s a Hindu name.”

“One word to Orc and he’d play basketball with your head.”

“It means ‘invincible.’”

“That’s great,” Lana said.

“Invincible. I can’t be vinced.”

“That’s not even a word,” Lana said. Then she ground her teeth, obviously annoyed with herself for having been baited.

“Go ahead: try to vince me,” Sanjit said.

Just then Patrick came rushing over. He dropped the ball at Sanjit’s feet, grinned his delirious dog grin, and waited.

“Don’t play with my dog,” Lana said.

Sanjit snatched up the ball and threw it. Patrick went tearing after it.

“You don’t scare me,” Sanjit said. He held up a hand, cutting Lana off before she could answer. “I’m not saying I shouldn’t be scared. I’ve heard some of the stories about you. About what happened. You went up against this gaiaphage thing all by yourself. Which means you are the second bravest girl I ever met. So I probably should be scared. I’m just not.”

He watched her struggle to resist asking. She lost. “Second bravest?”

“I’ll tell you the story when we go for that walk,” Sanjit said. He jerked a thumb toward the helicopter. “I better get back to town. Edilio wants a report from me.”

He turned and walked away.

Chapter Nine

54 HOURS, 9 MINUTES

SAM FOUND HIS little crew where they were supposed to be.

Dekka was almost smiling. Almost smiling was giddy for Dekka.

Taylor was checking her fingernails, being elaborately bored. Sam wondered if he should say something about the kiss. Something like, “I’m really sorry I groped you.”

Yeah: that would be really helpful.

Better to pretend it all never happened. Unfortunately Taylor was not known for letting things just drop.

Furthermore, she irritated Dekka. Dekka was Sam’s friend and his ally. The three people Sam knew he could always count on were Edilio, Brianna, and Dekka. Strange, because it wasn’t like they hung out together. Sam spent his time alone or with Astrid. He barely saw Edilio lately. He had nothing at all in common with Brianna—she was too young, too crazy, too . . . too Brianna to be someone Sam would hang with.

Quinn had been his best friend back before. But Quinn had a big job, a job he loved. Quinn’s friends were all his fishing crews. They were as tight as a very close family, the fishermen.

The fourth member of the expedition was Jack. Formerly Computer Jack—there were no longer any functioning computers around. Jack was wasting his days reading comic books and pouting.

Jack’s superhuman strength might come in handy, but Jack had never been much use. Although, Sam noted thoughtfully, Jack had stepped up during the big fire. Maybe he was growing up a bit. Maybe getting his head out of a computer was actually a good thing.

“You guys up for this?” Sam asked.

“Do I have to go?” Jack whined.