Sharon’s note: I wrote the first part of this as a Valentine’s day one shot. I hadn’t intended to continue the story, but I had several people ask me what happens next and that is one of the most flattering things a writer can hear. I took a look over the story and realized there was more to tell, so here it is. Warning: I don’t know where this is going any more than you do, folks.
“So where exactly are we going?” I asked. I’d been driving for two hours now, following Daed’s directions. It had been my first instinct to ditch my phone and the company car as soon as possible, but my new partner in crime insisted that getting rid of my phone wasn’t necessary and that we should wait on the car. I’d trusted him thus far, so I might as well take his word.
“I am currently negotiating a drop off point for a vehicle swap. Until then, I think that staying in motion is our best course of action. Are you alright to keep driving, Helen?” Daed’s voice was coming over my head piece, because the sound quality was better than the case speaker.
“Is that why you told me not to get rid of my phone? Because you need the connection?” I ignored the question of whether or not I was alright, because we didn’t have much of a choice.
“Yes. My current chassis does not have the ability to access the internet. Also, Midas currently lacks the resources to track it. The virus I uploaded will prevent them from tracking us with their own equipment for at least seventy-two hour.”
“And what about someone else’s equipment? The cops can track a cell phone, especially since the phone in question is technically Midas property.” I so badly wanted to throw the phone out the window, but Daed was right. He needed the mobility the phone provided (no pun intended) and I had no money to buy another. I really hoped he had a plan for that.
“Midas will be reluctant to go to the authorities since the facility we came from does not legally exist. They will not want the police to have as much information as they would require.” We didn’t program a ‘proud’ tone of voice for Daed. He was managing it anyway.
“Yeah, but what if they bribe them not to look into it, or to do it off the record? I’m sure that most of the cops are honest, but there’s bound to be one or two that are less scrupulous. Especially if it means looking into a thief on the wrong side of the law, which I technically am, by the way. Besides, they can just hire a private contractor.”
“Midas has protocols in place forbidding the use of private contractors. . .”
“We broke the rules, Daedalus. So can they.” I rubbed a hand through my hair, desperately trying to think of a way to get through to him. “It’s like the roses you bought me. They didn’t react the way you thought they would because they are people. People overreact. People break the rules. These people have their jobs and possibly their lives on the line. They lost one of the biggest investments the company has ever made. Whoever is actually in charge of this corporate monstrocity will kill them for that. They probably won’t mind my superiors breaking a few rules if it gets back their investment.”
“They are not your superiors.” Daed’s volume was no lower than before. It may have been my imagination that he sounded softer. “You worked for them, but they were in no way your superiors.”
I sighed. “Yes. Ok. But they still have a lot of many and the ability to hire more men with guns than they currently have.”
“Yes. I will take into account the new information you have provided me. I have still not learned to account for human variations.”
“If you figure it out, let me know.” I muttered.
“There will be a new phone waiting at the drop off along with the car. I think you will like the one I picked out. It is green.” Yeah, he’d definitely mastered pride. Ah well, green was my favorite color. “And the car is ready. Please turn left at the next intersection.”
Some people joked about their GPS becoming sentient. Mine was, and had proclaimed his love for me and was the only boyfriend I’d ever had who could remember my favorite color. And I was already thinking of him as my boyfriend. Crap.
I turned my left blinker on.
Gray Matters: The Works of Sharon and James Gray 