The Green Ones

Episode 3, Part 7

Zorrah jumps to her feet and bolts toward a secure door leading further into the government complex. “I don’t understand.” She slaps her palm against the access panel for the braid scanner. Somehow, the door clicks open without scanning her braid. “I taught them to avoid detection.”

Centavo stops her from swinging the door wide open. “You’re sure you can override the alarm?”

Zorrah glares at him.

“If not, we should leave while we can.”

“I haven’t packed. Now get out of the way.” She tugs at the door.

Relenting, Centavo steps aside before turning to me. “Wait here.”

“Sure, no problem.” I follow the old man the moment he steps through the doorway.

Centavo glances over his shoulder. “Kids these days.”

I ignore his comment, focusing on Zorrah as she disappears into a stairwell. I add physical quickness to the growing list of her discreet talents. “Who is this girl? And what is she doing here?”

Centavo reaches the stairs a couple seconds behind Zorrah. “She has grown up here. Her parents were among the first tasked with digitizing city records.”

A door slams a flight above us. “How does she—”

“Her telekinesis. She’s unique.” Centavo reaches the door and flings it open. “You and Olin have each other. She’s alone.”

“But her parents—”

“Have rejected her in advance,” he sprints to our right, “to cope.”

Zorrah disappears beyond a bend in the curved hall. “Another case of Centavo to the rescue?” This level of the building shows signs of regular use and maintenance.

“I do what I can.”

We pass a series of secured doors. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the icpitls or her abilities.”

“As with Olin, it has everything to do with her abilities.”

I hear his temper creeping out and decide not to push him further. Besides, I’m already short of breath.

“Otherwise, she would have no need of my help,” Centavo punctuates his defense.

The irritating bleep of the alarm shuts off the moment we catch up with Zorrah. She is leaning with her forehead against an access panel. “It doesn’t make sense. Someone added a new protocol hours ago, but why? And it only effected this one security lock—the very next in the network after my lab.”

“That’s good, right?” I try to comfort her. “That means it wasn’t One and Two’s fault.”

Zorrah smiles thinly and nods, then freezes.

Footsteps echo in the distance.

“More importantly,” Centavo stands in the center of the hall, looking in one direction and then the other, “how are we going to exit?”

Zorrah panics, “We have to get back to my lab.” She thumps her head on the panel.

Centavo looks as if he’s about to respond when he vanishes into thin air.

Before I can fathom his disappearance, my vision blurs. Strummed like the strings of a musical instrument, the air surrounding Zorrah and me dances. My gross motor muscles surrender to the paralyzing vibrations. Through the corner of my jittering eyes, a figure resembling Centavo reappears a few meters away. I’m unable to speak, but I can hear.

Over the loud hum inside my ears, I collect scattered phrases. “Coming soon…remote signals…mind pits…no good…without scrambling…” I especially don’t like the last bit.

At this point, I realize the telekinetic field Zorrah and I are trapped in is separating Centavo from the owner of the footsteps we heard moments earlier. Why couldn’t he have flashed in the other direction?

“You’ll have to…dirty.” The old man points.

Hours ago he had promised me I’d understand what getting dirty meant. Unfortunately for me and Zorrah, as I watch a blurry figure approach from the opposite direction, I don’t have the slightest idea what Centavo expects me to do, or how I’m going to do it. I try to focus my vibrating eyes again on the old man. He’s gone, nowhere to be found when I need him most.