Anarchy of the Mice

Chapter Twenty-One

I sat in the luggage store restroom, hugging my knees, listening to Quaid's plan. It was daring and brilliantly simple. It required a little finesse from me, keen psychological insight from the guys, and plenty of luck from the universe. The plan had two parts. If both succeeded, everybody got their problem solved in a single stroke.

And if not?

Quaid wheezed over the line. "Durwood has guns."

I knew I had to try. Cowering on a toilet seat, waiting for this nasty lady to stop knock-knocking, "Is someone still in there?", wasn't going to save my son.

I stood and smoothed my slacks. Twisting the stall deadbolt, I reentered the store. Nasty Lady stopped short of knuckling the door yet again.

"All yours," I said. "Hope you managed to hold it."

Garrison and his girl posse had migrated to the drone/VR section. Avoiding them, I went back to the window to peer across the plaza. Piper Jackson was alone again with her tablet. Her work seemed even more intense now—hard swipes, tendons taut in her elbow. Beyond, outside the east skyscraper, Zach shuffled in place with a group that must've been Mice.

Taking a route that concealed me from Zach as long as possible, I walked to Piper. I stopped a few feet away, as Hatch had, and spoke without facing her directly.

"I need a favor."

Piper gave no outward indication of noticing me, murmuring, "Bad time for favors."

"I know, but this is about my family." I gulped, remembering Quaid's advice. Focus on relationships. Let her feel you caring. "My brother."

Piper's finger froze mid-swipe. Her bottom lip curled, tight.

Though she'd said nothing, I assumed permission to go on. "It's my little brother—he just showed up. Over there by the east skyscraper. I don't want him involved."

Her eyes did the merest twitch that way. "Which one."

"With the skateboard? Bangs on the long side?"

Piper resumed work on her tablet. Her expression was so dynamic, struggle bending the planes of her face—I wished I could see the screen, what she was up to. Durwood had speculated Citibank could be the target, some massive balance-wipe along the lines of how the Mice had zeroed out Ted Blackstone's assets, or else a more general attack affecting many nearby systems.

I almost thought she had forgotten me when Piper said, "Cool for you to be in the Blind Mice. But not him?"

Her eyes flicked to me, fierce, then back to her screen.

"It's different. He's 14 and I'm—" I took a moment remembering my Mice age. "27. I understand the risks. I made a conscious decision joining the Mice was worth it."

"And is it?"

She asked like she was dubious on the point herself.

"Yes," I said. "I think so. I think change is coming."

Piper blew a breath sideways. "You right about that."

As she kept at her task, ever more furiously, I thought about her motivation. The internet had it her brother Marcus had been falsely convicted of industrial fraud while working at a Harvest Earth factory. Piper had testified against the plant manager, claiming he had ordered her to delete a file that would've exonerated Marcus. She had accused the company of burying the truth in order to keep customers from wondering about the healthfulness of its foods.

"About my brother," I said. "Can you just run him off? Say you made a mistake processing his application."

"We don't do applications."