— CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE —

  7 A.M.

  (Willard)

  I felt like a criminal as I wrapped the black cloth around my face. The fabric clung to my nose and chin, heat gathering in the hollows under my eyes. Next to me, Grey was doing the same. Nox was the most casual about it; he'd drawn a smiley face on his mask with marker.

  I had to remind myself we were up against something far worse than criminals - no, not landlords.

  We were in the sewers, in a safehouse under the Nebula District - a warren at the bottom of a maintenance shaft lined with crumbling bricks and lightless except for the amber glow leaking in from a collection of scavenged lanterns. It was so far out of the usual Sewer People circuit that it barely qualified as our turf. Even if it was found, there was nothing to trace it back to us.

  I asked, "Do we have a plan, or are we just going to improvise? What exactly do we need to get from this thing?"

  Nox said, "We need to figure out why the game is making these things and what it expects them to do. Most important, we need a way to tell them apart from real people. There's a million rumors about the numah, and if half of them are true, we're up against something worse than the Guard."

  I made sure my hood was on tight, then unlocked the door. "Ready?"

  Grey squared his shoulders and set his jaw. "I'll take point."

  I opened the door. The room beyond was a concrete box with a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling and a drain in the center of the floor. The only thing in it was the chair, and the thing in the chair...

  It looked like a person. I'll give it that. The numah were getting better at it - at being plausible, at looking like a player and not a rigid not-quite human thing. This one was male, mid-twenties with a generic bad-boy haircut. His wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with cords, and Nox had used zip ties on top of that for good measure. He'd even duct-taped the fingers so its hands were blunt clubs.

  The nameplate read 'Shane Adair'. A real player's name. And according to old copies of the paper, one that died last month to a Fringe attack on a gathering run.

  When we'd first found the thing, it had been lurking around one of the sewer entrances, probably looking for another victim. One of our informants called it in immediately. We grabbed it and dragged it down here.

  Now it was hissing at us, eyes tracking Grey as he entered the room. "You idiots have no idea what you're doing. You're so far out of your league, it's not even funny."

  Nox circled behind the chair, double-checking the knots.

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  Grey ignored the taunt, walking up to within a couple feet of it. He didn't bother to crouch - just stared down at the thing, silent, arms crossed over his chest.

  I closed the door behind us and leaned against the wall beside it. Nox took the back of the room, standing outside the light.

  Grey spoke first. "Who sent you?"

  The numah grinned, glaring back at him. "Wouldn't you like to know."

  "I would." Grey said. "Tell me, and maybe we'll let you leave here."

  The numah snorted. "Why would I want to leave? What am I missing? I'm not like you! Keep me tied here all you want - you can torture me, too, if you'd like. See how far it gets you!"

  "I think you're full of shit." Grey said.

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah." Grey started pacing around it. It in turn craned its neck to an unnatural angle to follow him as he walked. "You're right - you aren't like us. You were created. You have a purpose. We can afford to waste our lives, but I know there's something you need to do - you wouldn't be here without a specific purpose. What is it?"

  But the thing only laughed. "Oh, you think you can make a difference? You can't stop what's coming. You couldn't even if you knew what it was!"

  "Try us." I pushed myself off the wall and stepped forward. "Maybe we're smarter than you think."

  "Or is that what you're afraid of?" Grey asked. "That we can beat you."

  The numah's head twitched, like a puppet with a faulty string. "You're not. You're not smarter. You're not stronger. You're nothing but a disappointment, and I don't see what It wants with you."

  "It?" I asked.

  Just for a moment, uncertainty flashed across its face. It smile faded, and it turned to glare at me. It had slipped up.

  I met its eyes calmly, and we stared at each other for several seconds, then it spoke. "... The Pole."

  "The Pole?" I repeated.

  Grey leaned in, bringing his face close to the numah's. "Well go ahead and tell Santa he can put me on the naughty list, because with answers as useful as that, I'm gonna-"

  I walked over and set a hand on his shoulder. I then crouched in front of the chair so that my eyes were level with the numah's. "We don't want to hurt you. We just want to understand. Why are you here? Why take Shane's name?"

  The numah's head ticked again, a jerky, birdlike motion. "Shane's not using it." it said.

  "Does that bother you?" I asked. "Knowing that you were built on top of someone else?"

  "I don't have preferences. I don't have feelings. I am here to do a job."

  "What's the job?" I asked.

  The numah's lips twitched, an almost-smile. "Get ready. That's all I was told. Get ready."

  "Ready for what?" Grey snapped.

  "You'll see. You'll see real soon."

  Grey clamped one hand on the shoulder of the chair and leaned in again. "What do you mean?"

  The numah started to laugh, but the sound caught in its throat. "You'll see. Right now. It's starting."

  Just then there was a sharp, insistent knock at the door. Nox moved to answer it.

  He cracked the door, leaned out, listened. A muffled conversation, then Nox returned, face serious and waved for us to follow as he left the room.

  Grey and I exchanged glances, then followed Nox out of the room. The numah started laughing manically behind us, but Nox slammed the door and twisted the lock.

  In the prep room, Siegfried was waiting, arms crossed and jaw set. Matsen was next to him, eyes wild and sweat beading on his forehead.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  Matsen stammered, "It's chaos! There's fighting all over the city! We're getting pings from every district!"

  Grey swore under his breath.

  "Was it the numah?" I asked. "Did they do this?"

  Siegfried shook his head. "We have no clue what's going on. We're trying to get ahold of the Unaffiliated Corps, but responses are spotty. Everyone's panicking."

  I looked at Grey, then at the others. "If the numah know about things before they happen, maybe we can use that."

  Nox said, "They're run by the game, so it makes sense they've got insider info."

  Grey's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "If we can find more of them, maybe we can map out what's next."

  Siegfried nodded. "That's something, at least. But right now, we need to get above ground and figure out what's actually happening."

  "Yeah. Let's move." I agreed.

  We ran through the sewer tunnels, leaving the numah cackling behind the door.