“Thank you, Will. And when you use the bathroom, don’t get your head stuck in the toilet.”
“It’s a mistake we’ve made before, they may try to do it by force.”
“It happened once! A long time ago! I promise we won’t get trapped in a vehicle of any kind. They’d have to kill us first. Also, I’m going to need several drinks before I do this. I think we’re exceeding the limits of my mom’s hand cream here.”
Andre said, “There’s a wet bar on the helicopter.”
He wasn’t joking. A few minutes later, they were on board and Zoey found that the helicopter, like much of the gear they used, was military grade but tricked out for ultrawealthy executives who need to be dropped into hostile countries without risk of kidnapping. Leather seats, woodgrain paneling, and monitors all over to simultaneously check stock prices and track any antiaircraft missiles that might be heading their way.
They all strapped themselves in and as the three of them lifted off from the roof, Zoey found the interior was exceptionally well-insulated against even the reduced engine noise and vibration. It was the pinnacle of the kind of luxurious paranoia that Zoey never wanted to get used to. When several drones tried to follow them off the property, the aircraft automatically dispersed a shimmering cloud of something that caused each one of them to abruptly drop out of the sky. She could get used to that.
The residents of “the Screw” couldn’t really claim a neighborhood, as none of the area was supposed to be residential. The building was perched between a huge, nondescript hangar that Echo said was a chapulín farm, a place where they were raising tens of millions of grasshoppers that would be ground up as cheap protein filler for poor people and also packaged as an expensive, healthy superfood for rich people, depending on which vat any particular bug happened to land in. On the other side was a structure made of steel tubes and cylinders that, according to Echo, was a “Piss Plant.” It harvested human urine and extracted the phosphorus to turn into fertilizer.
In between them was a building that, from the air, really did look like a gigantic screw or a drill bit being driven into the earth. About thirty stories tall, it had been a festive orange and white at some point, but had long ago faded in the sun. There were metal railings and stairs that spiraled up the exterior. Echo explained that the whole structure was made up of detachable storage and if you wanted to put stuff in your locker, they’d actually run it out to your house on the back of a truck. You’d throw your crap in there, then they’d take it back and run it up the spiral of rails, to slot itself back into the stacks. The whole operation had gone broke years ago and every one of those boxes had since been turned into a living space. There were bibs and bobs stuck all over the building’s exterior—air conditioners, water recycling units, trash and feces incinerators, many emitting little tendrils of smoke or steam into the night air.
As they started their descent, Zoey could make out people hanging out on the stairs all the way up, watching. The aircraft lowered itself gently into a spacious patch of weeds that had been the parking lot at some point (it seemed like none of these people owned cars).
Echo glanced at a monitor and said, “Their Blink chat is going wild. You’ve kicked the nerd nest.”
“Good.” Zoey unbuckled herself and took a deep breath. The rotors went silent and that silence allowed the nervousness to creep in. She’d forgotten all about getting that drink as soon as they were in the air. “Everybody ready?”
Wu slid open the door. A little set of stairs lowered itself to the grass and he stepped out, scanning the landscape while Zoey descended behind him. She studied the people looking down at her. Some were playing it calm, legs dangling over the railing, smoking cigarettes or puffing steam from vaporizers. She was, no doubt, face-to-face with her tormenters, or at least some of them. Then again, at least some of the people living here probably had no idea what the hell was going on. Zoey’s heart was slowly revving up. She took a deep breath, trying to settle herself down. Using the technique she’d been taught: breathe in slowly for a few seconds, hold it for a few seconds, let it out slowly through pursed lips. She had no idea if it actually worked or not, but it always gave her something to do.
The three of them headed across the lawn and Zoey turned and scanned the sky for her drones. With the helicopter having shut down, she was certain she’d be able to hear them before she saw them. No sign yet.
Zoey got within shouting distance of the building and said, “Hey, it’s Zoey. I want to talk.”
No response. Some of the guys on the rails looked at each other, muttered things she couldn’t hear. She then heard the faint buzz from behind her and turned to find tiny running lights flying in formation. Six red, white, and green drones landed gently around her, each designed to look like an Italian man in a chef’s outfit flapping his arms like wings. Below each was a cargo hold the size of a small oven.
“I brought pizza.”
Zoey had been curious to see who, if anyone, would emerge to meet her. More people were popping out of various doors, but it was presumably just to get her on camera. Word spread fast on Blink, the watch counts would be skyrocketing. Echo helped her stack the pizzas on some circular metal tables nearby that looked like they’d been stolen from an outdoor restaurant somewhere. Zoey opened one of the boxes, pulled off a slice, and took a bite.
“See? Not poison.”
She waited. She looked back at Echo.
“Anything?”
Echo had her phone out, monitoring the Blink feeds. “Inside, it’s chaos. I think they’re trying to throw a plan together.”
Finally, a guy walked out from a unit three floors up. The setup of the stairs meant he’d have needed to walk all the way around the building to get down, but instead he climbed over the railing, dropped to where the path ran back around below him, then dropped down again to the pavement. It was the least handicapped-accessible building Zoey had ever seen.
The guy was a scruffy, thin twentysomething with a knit cap pulled down over his ears. Maybe he was one of the guys they’d pegged from the videos, maybe not. They all kind of looked the same to Zoey.
As he approached, Zoey said, “Hey, what’s your name?”
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Who?”
“The Blowback.”
“So that’s one specific guy? And who are you?”
“I’m also The Blowback.”
“O … kay. Do you want some pizza?”
“Come with me.”
“He can’t come out here? It’s a nice night.”
The guy was already walking back toward the building. “This way.”
Zoey now had a choice to make. The helicopter was probably a hundred feet from the building, but that actually meant they would still be well within range of the aircraft’s many dirty tricks should things go wrong. But if they went inside the building, they would be cut off, at least to a degree. It would just be her, Wu, Echo, and whatever they brought with them. For the thirtieth time, Zoey touched her necklace to make sure it hadn’t fallen off at some point. She had seen Echo packing at least one exotic bladed weapon. Wu, of course, had various devices hidden all over his body that could do everything from temporarily blinding assailants to vaporizing entire limbs.