Renee found Ben by a stone fountain in a clearing of tents. He seemed to have just gotten there, too. She didn't want to ask him for help, but if, for some reason, she got in trouble, Ben could talk their way out.
She winced. And she appreciated Ben's company more than the others. She trusted him the most.
"Where were you?" Ben asked.
Renee made a motion with her fingers: Taking a walk.
"You didn't run into Centium, did you?"
Renee fought the urge to scowl. Of course that was the first thing he was worried about. And what if I did? But she shook her head.
"Can you help me with something?" she asked aloud. This was a hard request to make mute.
"Sure."
She made her proposition that the two of them sneak into Centium's mech storage and take pictures of their mechs. She did not mention who'd given her the idea; Ben always gave her a look if she said Diana's name.
"This is a little too risky," Ben replied, frowning.
"I'll just take a quick look," Renee said. "You don't have to follow—I was hoping you could stay on the ground and watch for me."
"And cover for you when you get caught."
Renee crossed her arms. I won't get caught. She was good enough to spy on a mech storage, and she also had Diana's implicit backing.
"First of all, we're not allowed in their camp," Ben said.
Renee gave him an incredulous look. Yeah, no shit. "We can disguise ourselves as scavengers."
Ben narrowed his eyes. "And what'll they think when they see a scav looking into their storage?"
"I'll barely look at it," Renee said. She would be inside the building within seconds as soon as she found a way in. Besides, they would observe more of the premises than the actual building, seeing if there was a tunnel or vent that led inside.
Ben shook his head. "This is too dangerous. If you get caught—"
"When have I been caught?"
"If you do, we're done for."
"We're already going to lose!" Renee said, waving her arm in the direction of Centium's camp. "At least this gives us a chance."
"Right now we do have a chance," Ben said, his eyes wide. "We can't go back, Renee."
You can't, Renee wanted to say. You never asked me how I felt about leaving. You were scared of fighting the Manhunters and dragged me with you.
Renee felt a stab of shame immediately after the thought. The Manhunters had killed Cam, their best friend and the boy they'd grown up with. Ben had witnessed it, and who wouldn't want to leave after that? He had probably saved Renee's life.
But I didn't want to leave. He just assumed I did. Or worse, Ben had known she didn't want to go and had not bothered to ask.
"Give me twenty minutes," Renee said.
"It's too risky. This is Hosaka, not some random gang."
"There are barely any agents around."
"I'm not doing this. I'm sorry." Ben turned around and took a step forward. He glanced over his shoulder. "Let's go back."
On another day, maybe Renee would've been reasonable and followed him. But right then, she felt a surge of anger. As Ben took his second step, she spun around and ran in the opposite direction, towards Centium's camp.
"Renee!" Ben called. "Are you kidding?!"
She didn't look back. Did Ben think she would follow him wherever he went? Had she become that much of a pushover?
Renee ran until she no longer heard Ben's footsteps behind her, until she noticed up ahead the tents begin to turn from sand-yellow to white. She told herself she wasn't angry anymore—that had been a spur of the moment thing—but she needed to do this so she could help her team. They would thank her later.
Centium's camp was so empty that Renee didn't even need to disguise herself. She walked along the perimeter, noting where the gang's guards stood, and then found a route to their mech storage that passed by all their blind spots. The building was a big metal block. The windows were a few feet above Renee's head, and the front and back entrances were large garage doors that couldn't be finessed through. Renee considered climbing to the roof, but the camp was too open; someone would see her up there.
They have to get air conditioning in there.
However, the grates Renee found were too small for her to crawl through. Footsteps sounded to her right, around the corner of the building. She quickly backed off and ducked behind a tent as a Centium guard came into view. The woman wore a blue garment that looked like an armored robe. She walked along the wall, then disappeared around another corner.
There might be some underground transport. However, that would mean looking inside numerous tents to try to find an entrance. Too dangerous.
A scrape of gravel sounded behind her. She maneuvered to the front of the tent and waited as two different Centium guards passed behind her.
"They were saying something about Luyan," one of them said. "That's why they were so jumpy, I think."
"Immortal Ignition's Luyan?" the other asked.
"Yeah. Dunno what they want with him, though."
"They wanna steal from him," the second guard said. "That's all these scavs do."
"Hey, come on now."
"What else did they say?"
"Something about having guns in the megacity. Needed to hoard them in Sector 58 because they can't bring them in."
"Should we report that?"
"Nah, we don't owe Hosaka anything."
Their voices faded, and Renee frowned to herself. She wouldn't call Luyan a friend, but he'd been her and Marvin's host for the past month. If he was in trouble, she wanted to help him.
Maybe I'll eavesdrop on the scavengers next.
For the current task, it seemed her only option was a window. They were higher than most other buildings', meaning that once she climbed onto one's ledge, she'd have to instantly pry it open and slip in.
She found an outdoor worktable and pocketed a wrench, then headed towards the mech storage. She waited by the tent as the lone Centium guard passed by again. Looked behind her to see empty streets. Looked side to side to see the distant backs of Hosaka Inspectors.
Now was her chance. She ran to the building, pulled herself onto the window's ledge, and stuck the wrench below the pane. She pressed down on the lever with her knee, breaking the window latch, and pried it open the rest of the way. Then she slipped through, closed the panel, and dropped to the ground.
And almost landed on a mech.
She angled herself at the last second so she hit the floor instead. It was rough. The clang resounded throughout the room, but there was no one around.
Renee scrambled to her feet. She was facing the back of a giant four-armed machine—Ninth Gen. It was standing in a custom frame, arms outstretched and connected to charging cables. Its feet were planted in a thick disk that glowed dimly.
The greatest mech of all time, Renee thought in awe. Even in this dark room, it looked ethereal. Nearly three times Renee's size, it was the only mech to sport four arms; no other pilot could figure out how to control the extra limbs.
Renee took out her tablet and began taking pictures and sending them to Caroline. She personally had no idea what the specs were on this current version of Ninth Gen.
It was only after a minute that she realized there was another mech to Ninth Gen's left. Then another left of that one. This storage room wasn't the singular cube Marvin was in; it contained all three of Team Centium's mechs.
Renee couldn't help the rush of excitement. It looked like she didn't even need to find her way through the building.
The mech in the middle was Lightbreaker. It leaned against a charging pack attached to the wall, the faintest traces of energy glinting on its blue and gold paint. Its weapons were sheathed, and its thin frame made it look relatively harmless. It was strange to think this was the eighth-highest ranked mech, but then again, half of the top-tens had nothing spectacular about their design.
Renee got all the pictures she could of Lightbreaker, then moved on to the final mech: Centium Prime. If Renee hadn't known any better, she would've thought this was the best mech of the three. Its armor was sleek, alien almost, not a seam or a screw to be seen. Sections of its body pulsed with purple light as if in time with a beating heart. Its weapon—the three-pronged blade no one could put a name to—was propped in the corner, folded neatly.
Diana rarely talked about her mech. She didn't love piloting; she only did it because mech-fighting made Centium a ton of money and she was the gang's best fighter.
Renee took her pictures and sent them to Caroline. On the other end, Caroline had sent a ceremonial Get out of there before they catch you message.
Done already, Renee thought, looking up at the nearest window. She reached to pull herself to the ledge, but something made her pause.
A chill crept down her spine, and she slunk her hand down. The air in the room seemed to have changed.
She turned around to see a pair of red eyes glaring at her. Ninth Gen had turned its head ninety degrees and was looking straight at her.
"Unidentified persons detected," an automated voice recited from the four-armed monster. "Remain still to be identified, please."
The frame around Ninth Gen split in two and the mech stepped off of its charging disk. Renee clambered onto the window, but there was a sudden pop and her leg was caught in Ninth Gen's hand. She widened her eyes in horror. Ninth Gen dragged her down, pinned her to the ground, and peered at her with those terrifying red lenses. Renee pulled her tablet out as fast as she could, turned on the flashlight, and pointed it in the mech's face. It reeled back and pulled Renee's hand away as easily as if it were a loose branch.
"Resistance detected," Ninth Gen droned. "Reporting activity."
No! Renee swiveled her head frantically, trying to find something, anything to escape. But even as she noted her legs and left hand were still free, she was petrified. Ninth Gen could simply poke her and she would be dead.
Then the mech froze. It released her hand, then backed away and sauntered to its disk, where it reattached itself to its charging cables. The frame reformed above its head and Ninth Gen went to sleep.
Renee lay there for a second, gasping for breath. Then, past the wall on her left, she heard the garage door open. Two pairs of footsteps entered the mech storage.
"I'm telling you, this is unnecessary," a man said. Renee and half the megacity could recognize that voice anywhere—it was Grayson Wright, Ninth Gen's pilot.
"We are all top fifty," Grayson said. "Two of us are top ten. What reason would we have to play dirty?"
"I don't care," the other man said. Another familiar voice: James Kobayashi, the Lead Inspector. "If one more instance of corruption slips through our fingers, we'll set one hell of a bad precedent."
"You think it'll come to that?" Grayson asked.
"We say he's out of commission, but you and I know the truth. We witnessed a pilot get murdered because he made Mecha Realm," James said. He stopped walking. "Open this door, please."
"May I be honest, James? I'm offended that you think my colleagues and I would stoop so low."
"As you should be. But you understand why I still have to inspect your mech, don't you?"
Grayson sighed. "Yes, I do." He pressed a button and Renee heard the door hiss. "Don't damage anything."
The door opened. Renee was out the window before either man stepped foot inside the room.
As she landed on the soft grass, she nearly collapsed with relief. She could do a hundred, a thousand more stealth jobs, but she would be out the moment Ninth Gen was even remotely involved.
Just then, a shadow crossed over her. She looked up and saw a familiar face blocking the sun.
"Wanna explain yourself?"
Renee's heart fell to her stomach. It was that Centium guard that had been patrolling the outside of the storage. The woman glared at her with sharp, blue eyes, and a sword was drawn from her right sleeve.
Get lucky with one thing, get unlucky with another. Maybe that was how the world worked.
Renee didn't bother saying anything. Maybe Diana would cover for her. Maybe she was just cooked.
"Holy shit, there you are!" someone else called in the distance.
Renee peered around the side of the guard and saw none other than Ben running towards her. No. What are you doing?
"Renee, I told you to wait!" Ben stopped short of the Centium guard and took a second to catch his breath.
Renee's chest tightened with a pang of guilt. Was Ben simply here so they could take the fall together? How had she messed up so badly?
"Did you not hear Caroline say the supplies are coming?" Ben continued.
Renee blinked in confusion. The Centium guard glanced between the two of them.
"We ordered the stuff," Ben said. "Caroline can fix you in, like, an hour."
Renee didn't have a clue what was happening, but she had a feeling she shouldn't speak. She just looked at Ben with the most innocent expression possible. How could I have known about the supplies? she tried to get across.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Ben said to the Centium guard. "Renee's voice box is broken. She was getting impatient. She thought one of Ninth Gen's or Lightbreaker's engineers could fix it."
Renee pointed to the center of Centium's camp, playing along. And they still can!
"No! Renee, we're not allowed to be here. Did you not get that memo?"
"Hold on," the guard interjected. She pointed at Renee. "You just fell out of that window. How the hell do you explain that?"
"What?" Ben said. "No she didn't."
Renee nodded, putting on her best act. She hadn't just escaped from the mech storage. She'd just been wandering around, looking for a famous engineer to repair her voice box.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" the guard said.
"I dunno, but you're definitely seeing things. I was running this way—I had this window in my view the whole time."
The guard stared at him incredulously. "I literally heard a thud."
"I did too! And guess what? I also saw Renee walk over here from that direction." Ben crossed his arms. "Did you see her fall out of the window?"
"It doesn't matter if I did—"
"So you didn't," Ben snapped. "You know, they're inspecting the mechs in there right now. That's probably where the sound came from." He beckoned Renee. "Let's go back. We don't have to bother these people anymore."
Renee nodded reluctantly and followed him away from the storage. She didn't dare look back at the guard, but judging by her stunned silence, she probably believed she'd hallucinated.
Once they were far enough out of Centium's section of the camp, Ben gave her a concerned once-over. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Renee nodded, and she found tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was stupid. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well you made it out," Ben said. He grinned. "I can't think of anyone else pulling that off."
Renee smiled. "So do we have a chance now?"
"We'll see," Ben said.
Their steps seemed lighter from that point on. No matter their disagreements, at least Ben was looking out for her. That she could count on.
-----
James Kobayashi knew it was unprofessional. Here he was, sitting on the edge of the Hopper, legs dangling in the open air, hundreds of feet above the ground. If people thought he looked like a child, so be it. He was making up for lost time.
His watch beeped, letting him know that Sienna was on her way up. He reluctantly stood and headed to the dueling arena. Everything was set up in the open, even the Bessmer chairs. If only the arenas in Megacity 14 were like this. Then Marvin Yao's murder would've never happened.
That case was still open, and James intended on solving it by the end of this year. The Manhunters had not been the culprits, contrary to his colleagues' beliefs. Now his attention was on Centium, Sabersong, and of course, the Sawblades.
Sienna's head poked out of a stairwell. It swiveled before finding James. Then she walked onto the roof. It was almost time for her duel against Lightbreaker, and she looked the most focused she'd been since Bob's disappearance.
"I talked to Grayson about the task force," Sienna said when she'd closed the distance. "He's open to it."
James nodded. He had assumed Ninth Gen's pilot would want to enforce anti-corruption, being a nine-time reigning champion and all. He'd extended the invitation after feeling guilty for inspecting Grayson's mech—of course the man wouldn't play dirty.
"What are your odds?" James asked, pointing to the dueling arena. It was a simple white circle painted on the roof, surrounded by a transparent force field.
"I think I got this," Sienna said.
On cue, the opposing mech stepped into the arena. Electric blue and gold, it wielded fan daggers in each hand. Farther off, Gianna Kang was pacing around the Bessmer chair, talking to Grayson Wright.
It wasn't the best scenario for the Sawblades' team, James noted. Even if Sienna won, Gammagrade would surely lose to Ninth Gen, and Sabersong to Centium Prime.
"I have a question, if you don't mind," Sienna said. "Caroline…"
The name got Jame's head to turn sharply. "Yes?"
"You know her, don't you?"
"It's my job to keep tabs on people," James lied. "Why do you ask?"
"Is she a suspect or something?" Sienna said quietly. She always talked gingerly about Marvin's murder case; it had been the thing that had gotten her fiancé "killed," after all.
"She is helping the Sawblades," James said. And it didn't help that the Sawblades had the best motive for killing Marvin.
"She had a good reason," Sienna said. "But is she a suspect, James?"
"She is."
A dark expression crossed over Sienna's face, then she nodded and headed to her Bessmer chair.
James watched Sparrow enter the arena, then his vision began to unfocus as he got lost in thought. Caroline had helped Sienna try to find Bob. If Sienna found out, or was led to believe that was all an act, her wrath could severely hinder the investigation.
Don't investigate Caroline till all other options are exhausted, he reminded himself. He owed that much to her father.
James' watch beeped again. Dammit, what now? he thought instinctively, then forced himself to take a breath. It was easy to get ticked off when things grew stagnant. He needed to interrogate someone, make some progress.
He answered the call, and a holographic head of Saeyung Park appeared above his wrist.
"Wow2 is growing faster than we expected," the CEO of Ainsel AI began. "They've been granted exclusive coverage over Sector 8's murders and all future crime in the megacity."
Crimes—mostly gang-against-gang ones—were reported on Newcast, but details were often left out due to censorship policies. Policies Wow2 were not subject to. If they maintained their transparency, they would inevitably expand to other subjects and overtake Newcast in a year or two.
"Who the hell gave them coverage?" James said.
"I did," Saeyung said without hesitation. "Do I have the go ahead to acquire them?"
James rubbed his temples. "You can't do something and then ask for permission." But it was the right move; Wow2 could show the most unfiltered, most problematic things ever, as long as Hosaka got to see them first.
"It's still your call," Saeyung said.
As annoying as the woman was, James respected her drive. As long as she made the right choices.
"Yes, go ahead," James said.
"Thank you. Goodbye, James."
"Wait," James said. "Why did you ask me?" Why not my father?
"Hisen will step down soon, if he doesn't die first," Saeyung replied. "You should know what it's like in his shoes."
James felt a smile tug at his lips.