DEV1AT3 (DEVIATE). Jay Kristoff
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a sigh.
“Power,” he declared.
Lemon blinked. “He’s outta juice?”
“I’m not an expert, but yeah, looks like.” Zeke tapped a series of LED readouts inside the cavity. “Batteries are at one percent. Been sitting inactive inside that R & D bay for two years, his levels must have run close to zero through disuse. Should’ve checked them before we left, I guess. Stupid of me.”
“Um,” Lemon said. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any spares in your pockets?”
“From the look of them, these powercells weigh about a ton apiece.”
“So that’s a no?”
The lifelike glanced back over his shoulder again, brow creased in thought. His voice was almost too soft for Lemon to hear.
“They’d have spares back at Babel, though. In the armory.”
“… You wanna go back? We just left!”
He looked from the hollow tower in the distance, back to their broken bot. “Got a better idea?”
“Our tank is buried under a squillion tons of rock, Dimples.”
“There’s no such thing as a squillion. But yeah, I noticed.”
“So wait, lemme get this straight.” Lemon folded her arms. “You’re suggesting we walk back across a couple of hundred kilometers of irradiated wasteland, to a tower full of murderbots who’ll probably be back up and moving by the time we arrive? And then drag one-ton batteries back out here, hoping the other dustnecks who live in this gully haven’t stripped Cricket for parts in the meantime?”
“… You raise a good point.”
Lemon gave a shoddy curtsy. “Several, I think you’ll find.”
Ezekiel pouted, rubbing his chin in thought.
“You’re right,” he finally declared. “You should stay here in the tank.”
“… You wanna leave me here by myself?”
“It’s not a plan without flaws.” Ezekiel shrugged. “But it’s safer here inside this thing’s armor, and I’ll move quicker alone. And, again … if you’ve got a better one?”
Lemon plopped down onto the turret. She knew less about logika than Ezekiel did, which was a nice way of saying she knew nothing at all. And if there was a problem with Crick’s power supply, a fresh battery sounded like the only kind of fix.
But going back there meant maybe running into Gabriel. Faith. Eve.
Going back to Babel meant leaving her here alone.
Abandoned.
Again.
Lemon pulled off her helmet, brushed the dirt off her freckles. She racked her skull for another way out of this, but she’d never been the brains of their outfit. If there was a smarter play to make, true cert, she couldn’t see it.
“You know, crawling out of bed today?”
Lemon shook her head and sighed.
“Really bad move.”
“Now remember, stay in the tank,” Zeke said.
Lemon rubbed at the bandage he’d placed over her split brow. “Yes, Dad.”
“Keep the hatch sealed, no matter what.” The lifelike reached into the weapons locker, shoved a heavy pistol down the back of his grubby jeans. “I don’t care if a guy knocks on the door offering free pony rides, you keep it shut.”
“Ponies are extinct.”
“You remember what I showed you about the guns, right? This is your targeting system. When it’s locked, you trip the safety and fire with this.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Just keep your head down. I’ll be back before you can say ‘Ezekiel is the bravest and most handsomest boy I know.’”
“… I see what you did there, Dimples.”
The lifelike knelt beside her. He was smiling at his own joke, but she could see concern in his baby blues. “Look, I’ll be quick, okay? I move fast, I don’t tire easily. As soon as I get the powercells and wheels, I’ll run straight back here.”
“You sure you’re just going back there for batteries?” she asked softly.
“… What other reason would I have?”
Lemon raised one eyebrow, fixed him in a withering stare.
“I’m not going back for Eve,” the lifelike insisted.
“Rrrrrright.”
“She’s not Ana, Lemon,” Ezekiel said. “She never was.”
Lemon chewed her lip, trying to fight the weight that had been growing on her shoulders ever since they left Babel. She knew there were more important things to worry about, that now wasn’t really the time. Still, she couldn’t help but ask.
“Okay, so how long until you bail on me for real, then?”
Ezekiel blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, that’s your plan, right?” Lemon looked hard into those fugazi eyes. “Myriad told us the real Ana Monrova is still out there somewhere. Hurt maybe, but still alive. Daddy Monrova hid her. And you’re all head over heels for her. So you’re eventually gonna wanna find her, right?”
“… I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Lemon rolled her eyes. “Rule Number Seven in the Scrap, Dimples. Never scam a scammer.”
The lifelike sighed, looked up through the open hatch to the night above. This deep in the wastes, you could actually see a few of the brighter stars up there, struggling to shine through the curtain of pollution and airborne fallout. The starlight kissed Ezekiel’s cheeks, gleamed in his eyes, and Lemon’s chest hurt a little at the sight of him. She knew he’d never belong to her. That the warm fuzzy she got in her belly when he called her Freckles was never going to be more than that.
But damn he was pretty …
A tiny light shot overhead, twinkling as it fell toward the horizon. Lemon watched it spin through the dark, wondering if she should make a wish.
“Shooting star,” she murmured.
Ezekiel followed the falling light with those pretty plastic eyes, shaking his head. “It’s just a satellite. There’s thousands up there. Left over from before the Fall.”
“Sometimes I wonder if your maker put any romance in your soul at all, Dimples,” she said sourly. “And other times, I think they gave you way too much.”
“Have you ever been in love, Lemon?” he asked.
“Nah.” Lemon sniffed, wiped her nose on her grubby sleeve. “I kissed a boy named Chopper a few times. He was a gutter runner in Dregs like me. It was nice. But then he got a little gropey and I kinda sorta broke his nose a little bit.”
Ezekiel smiled lopsided, his dimple on high beam, and Lemon’s belly went all tingly despite herself.
“You will be one day,” he promised. “I know it. And then you’ll understand.”
“… You’re in love with Ana, huh? Got it real bad.”
“Yeah,”