The Fallen Legacies

CHAPTER 8

This is how my people find her. The General didn’t share these details with me, but I know them now:

Wade believes in taking a stand against capitalism. He does this by shoplifting at every opportunity he gets. He also talks, sometimes endlessly, about the amazing record collection he was forced to leave behind when he left his parents’ mansion.

This puts an idea in One’s head. She’s going to shoplift some records from a store by the beach for him. Part of her wants to impress Wade, another part of her just wants to experience the thrill that he’s talked about.

But One gets caught coasting out of the store with a backpack full of merchandise. The owner of the store is a take-no-prisoners type. He calls the cops.

“How was Wade even going to listen to those?” I ask. “Does his van have a record player?”

One laughs as we watch her former self being slapped into handcuffs. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Number One is taken to the police station. Her “grandmother” is contacted. The police are going to let her off with a warning, but a particularly overzealous detective notices the Loric charm on One’s ankle. He mistakes the charm for a brand and starts asking One about gang affiliation.

“Yeah,” sneers One, “I’m in a gang called the Space Invaders. We do surf-by shootings. No lifeguard can stop us.”

The detective doesn’t seem to think it’s a very funny joke.

He takes a picture of One. He takes a picture of the Loric charm. He uploads both images to a statewide database. As soon as the flash on the camera goes off, I know that this is how it happened.

My people have teams working around the clock patrolling the internet, even the internal government sites, for tips just like this. We have artificial intelligences set up that do nothing but scan image feeds for anything resembling the Loric charm.

After four years of searching, One is on our radar.

Hilde doesn’t lecture One when she picks her up from the police station. She doesn’t need words to express her disappointment. One knows what it means to have had her picture taken by the police.

For the first time, One’s rebellious streak gives way to fear. She packs a bag with shaking hands before Hilde even tells her to. I’m reminded of the way my hands shook after I saw her killed. It wasn’t until then that the war we’re fighting began to feel real. One must be feeling the same way now.

This time they travel light. Hilde thinks they need to get out of America. They rush to the airport and board the first international flight they can. Their destination is Malaysia.

One notices the two pale men in trench coats at the airport, but she doesn’t realize what they are. I do. I recognize my own.

For all their precautions, all their training, all their knowledge of their enemies, what’s so clear to me is completely unrecognized by Hilde and One. A Mogadorian scout team is on to them. I know the protocol in a situation like this. When my people have a lead on a Loric, vat-born scouts are dispatched to every conceivable place of departure. We cover them all: airports, train and bus stations, rental car huts. Their objective isn’t to engage. Their job is just to keep an eye on Number One.

“You need to lose them,” I find myself muttering. “You need to lose the scouts before you flee.”

“Oh, thanks for telling me, dude,” the One standing next to me says. She has a sad, rueful look on her face.

For some reason I’m positioning myself between the scouts and One. It makes no sense. I’m a ghost here; they see right through me. And besides, this has already happened. Nothing I can do can change it.

My stomach still drops when they board the flight to Malaysia. I can’t see the scouts anymore; they’ve disappeared into the crowd. I know what they’re doing, though. They’re radioing back to my father or some other superior, arranging to have a scout team waiting across the ocean when One’s flight touches down. My team.

I dread seeing what comes next.