Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls - Jane Lindskold [90]
Yet, once the door has shut behind us, I am needed again. Professor Isabella hands Athena to me and I send the little owl looking for security systems. From what Margarita had told us, the regions closest to the ceiling should be safe, since all of the detectors are set to look down for human-sized targets.
The owl returns and rests on my outstretched wrist.
“Humming eyes,” she reports. “Two and then two again. Then no more.”
Abalone has prepared for this. When I tap my eyes in our agreed upon signal for cameras and then make the sign for “nothing else” she fishes out her tools. Even before she has them in hand, I have found the concealed service panel and begin to work it free. While I do so, I am aware of Midline, weapon in hand, frozen into a watchful readiness.
The section of the wall comes free in my hands and Abalone reaches inside. The tiny light she wears on one finger like a ring illuminates only her work space. Still, almost as if I can see her face, I feel her astonishment at my initiative.
I smile. My dear Baloo, I went to the same hard schools as you. Did you think that I would learn nothing?
Once she has carefully inserted the chip that will fool the cameras into seeing only a dark corridor, she replaces the panels. Margarita has assured us that no human guard is ever posted in Aldrich’s labs at the doctor’s own request. Security had consented because his building was so deep inside the complex and “because Aldrich is such a nasty bastard under all that highbrow pose.”
Abalone gives thumbs-up to the others and a squeeze on the shoulder to me. Then she flourishes something she has removed from within the work cubby—a floor plan so simple that even I can grasp it.
“This plan matches what Margarita got for us pretty closely,” she whispers. “Aldrich’s quarters are there. His labs are here. We’ll be able to work in there undisturbed if we’re quiet.”
Midline swats her gently. “We know the plan and I’ll cover the hall. Now, go!”
“Right.”
Even in the dim-lit hall, I can feel Abalone blush.
Leaving Midline lounging against a wall in the corridor, Abalone and I let ourselves into the labs. As planned, Professor Isabella and Abalone awaken the computers and begin to scan and destroy data. My job is simpler; I am simply to collect any paper I find and stack it by a shredder that Professor Isabella has removed from her briefcase.
“I’ve got a secure outside line,” Abalone announces softly, the first voice in many minutes, “and I’m going to start removing any knowledge of Sarah from the files and planting my virus. How are you doing with Aldrich’s research stuff, Professor?”
She gives her head a birdlike tilt. “No trouble, but I am finding some very frightening things. There is no doubt that Aldrich was continuing his work. There’s a great deal of new material about negative recessives and reinforcing traits interworked with material about memory, empathy, and magical thinking.”
“Bastard,” Abalone hisses, most of her attention on her own work. “I’m glad Ailanthus forced us to move now.”
I roam between clean white counters and listen to the strange songs of the devices that stand regimented along them. Something in their songs makes me pay attention to one wall and, turning to examine it, I hear soft tittering.
From where I hold them, Betwixt and Between answer without my asking, “It wasn’t us, Sarah. It was the wall.”
I turn to examine the wall, noticing for the first time that it is the only one not cluttered with shelves or heavy gear. The few carts drawn up in front of it could be easily moved. Doing so, I listen again and quickly find the concealed release. There is no sign of alarms, so I palm it, just as Professor Isabella notices what I am doing.
“Sarah?”
I ignore her and, when the opening is large enough to admit me, slip through.
My motion brings up soft lighting illuminating