Escape to New Atlantis

14 Lies, Lies, Lies

Catalina

My comms training has been about inspection, troubleshooting, and repair. We've never covered what to do when a suspicious component magically appears in a circuit, but here's what's always beaten into our heads: if you have a question, grab your tablet. Yeah, right, but this time all comms, thus all tablets, are down.

This is no time for sweet little Catalina to dither—it's time for She-Cat to act!

"Sawyer, we'll leave this cabinet just as it is." I shut and latch the door. "You continue inspecting the others, and I'm going to report what we've found." His glance through the floor at the sea is so comically pathetic I give his arm a squeeze. "You'll be perfectly safe as long as you don't climb over the railing."

As quickly as I can, I make my way through the watertight port, climb the stairs two at a time, and burst out into the pristine billionaire enclave of Bengal Street. As I jog onto Tradewind Boulevard, things get a little more real. Here there have been no domestic robots cleaning up dead fish, uprooted greenery, and other debris; abandoned rideshares sit wherever their motors shorted out; moreover, pedestrians seem to be simply wandering in shocked bewilderment. Really? Everyone in this city has a job to accomplish—get to it, people!

I dash through the doors of the high school and head to Mr. Fix-It's room. The lines of kids are gone, but Mr. Fix-It has returned, now sitting with Administrator Trikoupis in a serious conversation. I stand, waiting, quietly fidgeting. Mr. Fix-It glances up at me and, even as he continues with his conversation, starts scrolling something on his watch. Of course, his watch can't be like anyone else's: it's a nerdy, oversized thing with a screen wider than his wrist. He holds up a finger and says, "Excuse me for a moment, Administrator." He turns to me. "Ortiz, your assignment will be comms inspection of the 400 block of Aft Snapper."

Before I can respond, Administrator Trikoupis says, "Norman, she already checked in. You'd assigned yourself the 300 block of Port Bengal, but since you'd been called away, I changed the assignments. I sent her with that new boy over to Bengal because I didn't want founders languishing at the bottom of the list."

Mr. Fix-It doesn't look at all pleased—yeah, it sucks having a boss—but he directs his glare toward me. "Then why are you back here, Ortiz?"

I blurt out what Sawyer and I discovered. I sound incoherent even to myself.

The administrator stops me. "My dear, what have you done about the matter so far?"

"Nothing, sir. I left things as they were, directed Sawyer to continue inspecting the other cabinets, and rushed over here."

Mr. Fix-It quickly stands and says, "OK, I'll come take a look."

"No, Norman, I'll go with Ms. Ortiz." Administrator Trikoupis winces as he stands. "You've got plenty to do here. Besides, as long as I'm in the area, I can take the opportunity to update some of the founders about our progress."

Mr. Fix-It looks like he may have a stroke, but he just licks his lips, gives his boss a polite nod, and mumbles, "Thank you, sir."

The administrator has a pronounced limp, so it's clear going back won't be the race coming here was. We're barely into the hallway before he begins a story about the "good old days" when he was a technician in "the old country." This trip is going to be even slower than I feared.

The hulking figure of Benedict rounds the corner into the hall ahead of us. Before either he or I have a chance to speak, the administrator says, "Young Mr. Yuan—what a pleasure! I trust you understand that we're doing all we can to get the infrastructure back to full functionality in your neighborhood. As a matter of fact..."