4 – Tailing

Addie followed Tony to the back of Dino’s, to an area sectioned off by tall shelves full of all manner of components. It was the part of the store set aside for their inventory of autonomous and operator-controlled robotics. She and Tony bypassed the section of pre-packaged drones, walking straight to an enclosed plastiglass case full of custom and pre-owned mini-drones. Judging by the dust in the case, Addie didn’t think they were hot sellers.

Tony leaned an elbow on the top of the counter, perusing the contents. “What do you think?”

Addie had been there before. She’d made it a habit to check Dino’s drone inventory, especially the Dust-tech drones, because she was always curious if she could find something like Humpty. It had been months, maybe more than a year, and many of the little devices were new to her.

She knew they were looking for something small, but she couldn’t help pausing to stare at a rat drone the size of a small cat. It looked vicious, with oversized metallic teeth and long, springy legs ending in centimeter-long claws. She could imagine it doing some real damage if it caught someone by surprise and jumped on their face.

“What about that little one?” Tony pointed to a black, creepily lifelike spider. Its legs were probably three centimeters long, and she could picture it climbing into all sorts of dark corners.

“It looks like it might work. It’s not Dust-tech, though.”

“Ah, shit. Didn’t notice that.”

Addie pointed to the tag on a moth-shaped little device. “See the green sparkles in the corner? It means Dust-tech.”

“All right.” Tony squinted, scanning through the rows of little drones again. Addie had already seen the one she was interested in, though.

“Look at her,” she said, pointing to another spider-shaped drone—this one dark red, almost maroon, with a speckled yellow pattern on her abdomen. Addie wasn’t sure why she thought of the little spider as female, but it seemed to fit.

Tony read the label, “Bonelli Orb Watcher, Model Three.” He shrugged. “They got a salesperson or what?” He straightened up and looked around.

Addie clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she reached past him to push the “Service” button on the counter.

“Ah.” Tony smiled and nudged her shoulder. “Smartass.”

Addie giggled, scanning the case again, ensuring she hadn’t missed something better. There was, of course, a little drone that looked like a roach, but she had an irrational prejudice against roaches. Besides, a spider lurking in a dark corner was a lot more normal than a roach that didn’t immediately scurry out of sight when people came around.

As she was contemplating the little creature, one of Dino’s employees—someone Addie hadn’t met—came over and slid around the counter to face them over the top. “Interested in one of these little custom drones?”

Addie nodded while Tony leaned on the counter again, off to the side. His body language said he was just there to watch. Addie liked how easily he could do that—switch into a passive mode and just sort of let things unfold. He wasn’t tuning them out, though; it was clear he was watching her, waiting for her to say something. “How about this little maroon spider?” She reached down to point through the plastiglass.

“Oh, that’s Dust-tech. You sure?” The salesman was probably around Tony’s age, a few years older than Addie, but he looked young with his short ginger hair and freckles.

“Yep. That’s why I’m interested.”

“All right. Let’s see.” He reached down to fiddle with the bio-lock on the cabinet and, after a moment, got it to click open. Sliding the panel aside, he reached in to scoop up the little drone. He held it in his palm, reaching toward Addie so she could get a better look at it. “It’s tiny, but my inventory detail says it has some good functionality. It can relay video footage to your PAI if it’s capable—”

“It’s not. How much can the drone store?”

“Hmm. Just a sec, scanning the specs… Here it is: four hours at full definition and twenty-four, sampled down. There’s software on their city net page that will make the sampled-down footage look pretty darn good, though.”

Addie nodded, looking at Tony. He cleared his throat and tapped the counter. “What kind of range?”

“It supports Dust links up to forty meters.”

Addie’s eyes shot wide. “That’s it?” She could pilot Humpty almost two kilometers away before the link started to feel patchy.

“Yeah.” The sales guy—Greg, according to his nametag—shrugged. “I’m not an expert on these things, but I think they get a lot more expensive if you want longer ranges. Maybe the size has something to do with it, too.”

“It can pick up audio, too?” Tony prompted, moving things back on track.

“Oh yeah.” Greg nodded.

Addie leaned close to his hand, peering at the spider’s head. In lieu of eyes, it had two tiny lenses facing forward. “Just the front-facing cams?”

“Yep, but they can do a three-x zoom.”

She nodded slowly, admiring the construction of the little drone. Its tiny, delicate legs, with their perfect little joints, were a work of art, in her opinion. It didn’t look threatening at all up close. You could see the mandibles were just for show; there was no mouth. Still, from more than a foot or two away, it looked like a dangerous spider, thanks to its coloring.

“You should try it out,” Tony suggested.

Greg nodded. “Not a problem. Let me set up the pairing function. You know how to reach out through your Dust matrix?”

Addie smiled, leaning close to the little spider, watching Greg pull a tiny screwdriver from his breast pocket and depress an even tinier switch on the spider’s abdomen. It was the largest, most central yellow spot. “Yeah. I have another drone.”

“Okay, well, it’s ready.”

Addie nodded, sending her perception out along the lines of Dust in her matrix, feeling for the spider the same way she would for Humpty. In just a second or two, she felt the spider’s Dust engine and grabbed onto it, filling it with her awareness like she always did when she first connected to Humpty. The little drone trilled a series of beeps, then flexed its legs just as Addie’s awareness expanded to include its cameras and microphones.

Standing still there, bracing one hand on the counter, it was easy to flick her consciousness into the spider, leaving her body on autopilot as she rarely did with Humpty. For her first time in the spider, though, she wanted to give it her full attention. She was aware of the different ways it could move by some subconscious instinct, and she made it hop off Greg’s hand onto the counter where she drove it, scurrying with little taps of its alloy feet—she didn’t know the correct term—toward Tony.

To her surprise, he held out his hand, and she made the spider hop onto it, then scurry over his palm, eliciting a surprised laugh from him. She sent it up his sleeve toward his shoulder. “Damn! It’s pretty quick!”

Addie nodded, shifting some of her attention back to her eyes, ensuring she could manage the drone while still focusing on her body. It was far easier than Humpty. “It seems to work, but hold still; I want to try something.” She ran the spider across the top of his shoulders, then jumped it to the nearby wall. To her delight, it easily grasped the painted drywall, the microscopic little metallic fibers on the tips of its “feet” grabbing the texture like a human might grab a ladder rung.

“Damn, lady!” Greg said, shaking his head. “Never seen someone drive Dust-tech like that.”

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Addie smiled and piloted the little drone down the wall to the counter and over to her. She let her awareness slip out of it and looked up at Greg. “How much?”

“2200 Sol-bits, but we can get ten percent off if you open a line of cred—”

“Nah, that’s fine,” Tony interrupted. “Go ahead and package it up.”

Greg shrugged. “All right. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to have a line—”

“Nope.” Tony grinned, tapping his metal knuckles on the counter. “We’re good.”

Addie looked from Tony to Greg, then watched as Greg nodded. “Be right back.” He turned and stepped through an “Employees Only” door, spider in hand.

“Why not get the discount?” she asked softly.

“We don’t want any record of us attached to that little drone. I’ll pay with an anonymous bit-vault address. I mean, just in case it gets captured on this job or a future one with more risk.”

“Ah!” Addie nodded, feeling a little dim for not thinking of that.

“Besides, we’re gonna use your dad to buy gear most of the time. We don’t need Dino to have a file on us.”

Before Addie could respond, Greg returned, this time carrying a black box about the size you might get if you bought a new watch. “Here it is.” He set it on the counter. “Make sure you register for the warranty, but we have a thirty-day guarantee on all tech.”

Tony stopped leaning on the counter and tapped his head. “Flick me the invoice.”

“Sent.” Greg reached under the counter and pulled out a small, bright yellow plastic bag. As he put the box inside it, he flashed Tony a thumbs-up. “Got the payment. Keep the receipt code in case you have to bring it back.” He held out the bag, and when Tony didn’t make a move toward it, Addie grabbed it, maybe a little too eagerly.

“Thanks,” she muttered, already thinking about unpacking her new little pet and exploring its full capabilities.

As she followed Tony, who was already halfway out of the store, she asked JJ for a Dust report and was happy to see she hadn’t used even a single unit driving the little spider around. She hoped it would be more efficient than Humpty, considering it was smaller and didn’t have to manipulate gravity to fly. Outside, she found Tony scanning the sidewalk left and right, squinting slightly as he looked into the distance. “Looking for something?”

“Hardware store? Or, shit, do you think your dad has a drill for sale? With some wide bits? You know, the ones… I think they’re called hole saws?”

“He probably has a drill, but I doubt he’ll have, um, hole saws. I’ve never heard of ’em.” Addie pointed to the right. “Hazards is down that way.” It was a corpo chain store that sold “home improvement” supplies. Addie only went there when her dad needed something urgently, like a pipe fitting, a particular screw size, or something like that.

“Perfect.” Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking. Addie kept pace, her package swinging from her right hand. He looked over at her. “How’d it feel? The drone.”

Addie looked up at him, squinting at how the midday sun reflected off his metallic eye socket. “Good. Easy.”

“It’s weird how Dust-tech works, don’t you think? Like, how come you can interface with your drones so easily, but I have to use a compatible PAI to control my nanites? My wire-job is the same—I can’t get it to do much without a PAI to control it.”

Addie smiled, enjoying being the expert for a change. “Well, before my misadventures with Zane, I would have told you it’s a matter of practice. I’ve been doing a lot of reading, though—in that manual that I got from Madeline’s—and I guess…” She trailed off, chuckling. After a few seconds, she shrugged and finished, “I guess I’m kind of a mutant.”

Tony grinned. “Exactly what I was thinking!”

Addie punched his shoulder. “Seriously! Growing up exposed to Dust has made some people sensitive to it. We can sort of stream our consciousness through it and connect to the Dust engines in tech like this”—she jostled her shopping bag—“directly. And, by the way, it’s not impossible for normal people to do; it really can be a matter of ‘practice makes perfect.’ People like me just have it easier. That weird, um, antenna in our brain is more developed. That’s the analogy the book uses, but I have no idea if anyone knows exactly what’s different about Dust empaths or adepts or whatever.”

“Cool. Well, we need to get you a better Dust reactor and a smarter PAI—one that can accept connections from your drones. It’s not ideal to rely on collecting the drone to save the footage.”

“I…” Addie stumbled on her words, her feelings about the matter getting jumbled.

Tony, apparently, knew what she was thinking, though. “You like JJ.” He nudged her. “Relax, you can transfer his personality and saved memories. He’ll just have more room to stretch his legs in a better chip.”

“Oh!” Addie grabbed his jacket sleeve and leaned into him as they walked. “That’s a good point, Tony Baloney.”

He smirked with one side of his mouth and elbowed her shoulder, sending her stumbling toward a nearby storefront. Of course, he didn’t wait for her; he just kept motoring on with those annoyingly long legs. Addie caught her balance and growled, “Bully!” Then, she chased after him, plotting her revenge.

###

“We need to get a van,” Tony muttered, staring over Addie’s shoulder out the window of the little coffee shop. He was watching the front doors of the main office building of Orlen Dynamics, the company where Fletcher Grames—their mark—worked. According to the intel Torque had given them, Fletcher had been meeting with Theresa X after work on a regular basis. They just had to hope they got lucky, and he was doing so again that night.

“This shop seems fine. As long as we buy something every half hour or so, they don’t care if we take up a table.” To illustrate her point, Addie picked up her vanilla latte and noisily sipped. Tony smiled at the gesture but couldn’t watch her face while keeping his eyes trained on the door. He had better optics than Addie, and Nora was better at comparing the faces of the people exiting the door to the photo of Grames—another gift from Torque.

“It’s fine, but we won’t always have a place to sit around for hours without drawing attention. On some jobs, there will be security to deal with, people who make it their business to know if a couple of strangers are lurking in the coffee shop across the street.”

“Oh, right. Makes sense.” Addie idly broke a piece off the pumpkin-flavored cookie she’d purchased. “Want a bite?”

“Sure.” He held out his palm, and she put the piece in it. He’d just popped it in his mouth and was about to announce that it was too dry when Nora outlined a person across the street in bright red.

“I’ve identified Fletcher Grames with near certainty.”

“Good, Nora. Order us a cab.” To Addie, Tony grinned and added, “Got him.” As he pushed his chair back, Addie practically bounded out of her seat as she snatched up her backpack. He chuckled and motioned for her to slow down. “Easy. A big part of tailing is acting like nothing’s going on.”

Addie didn’t look abashed or chastened; she smiled and nodded. “Got it.”

Tony held the door, and Addie slipped out past him. On the sidewalk, he said, “Put your pack on, and I’ll take Humpty out for you.” He motioned toward the corner, and Addie slung her pack on while she walked. “He’s just on the other side of the street. See him? He’s standing on the curb like he’s—”

“Waiting for a ride,” Addie finished.

“Yep. We’ll follow in our cab, but if Humpty can tail him, that’ll make our lives a lot easier.”

“Easy, as long as he doesn’t get too far ahead.”

“Good. He won’t.” Tony unzipped her pack and lifted out the dense football-shaped drone. He handed it to her over her shoulder and then zipped up her bag.

“Your cab is nearly here, Tony.”

At Nora’s words, Tony looked at his map and saw a white car-shaped icon approaching from around the corner. “Got it, Ads?”

She nodded, and Humpty hummed upward, rapidly climbing into the darkening sky. “I’ve got him in the camera feed, and Humpty knows he’s trailing him. I’ll make sure he continues to follow when he—” She stopped abruptly as a dark, sleek sedan pulled up in front of Grames. “Okay, Humpty’s following that car now.”

“Perfect. Our cab’s almost here.” Tony watched as the town car pulled away and sped toward the next light, which was, fortunately, red. Their cab pulled up—a black and red MaxCab—and Tony opened the door so Addie could slide in.

“Welcome, passengers. What is my destination?”

A screen with a cartoonish face was mounted on the front console. It wore a black and white checkered hat and a black bowtie as it stared at Tony and Addie, waiting for an answer. Tony pointed at Addie. “She’ll give you verbal directions. We’re just cruising for now.”

“Excellent. Standard rates will accumulate. You can see the current charge beside my handsome face!”

Tony frowned, watching the bits slowly ticking up on the counter. They were already at seven and hadn’t even moved. “We really need our own wheels.”

“Turn right here and then go straight. Use the left-hand lane.” Addie’s voice sounded a little stressed, and Tony could see her eyes were unfocused; she was concentrating on her drone’s feed.

As the cab started rolling, much slower than it would have to do to keep the sedan in sight, Tony spoke softly to her, “You’re doing great. We won’t fall too far behind—too many lights. As long as your Dust holds out, we’re good.”

She nodded, absently chewing her bottom lip as she concentrated. “Turn left on Garnet Ridge.” The cab slowed and entered the turn lane, but the light was red. “Dang it! Tony, they’re turning again!”

“Stay cool. We’re good. It’s just the law of averages; they’ll hit a light sooner or later. We’re still okay on range.”

The cab started moving again, and as soon as they rounded the turn, Addie said, “Right lane, cab. Turn at the next intersection.” She looked over at Tony and smiled. “You were right. They’re stopped ahead, behind lots of cars.”

“Nice.”

Their pursuit of Fletcher Grames continued for nearly twenty minutes as they wound around the district. At one point, they approached the checkpoint to District Nineteen, and Tony began to fear they’d have to let him go for the night, but the man’s sedan went past it and then down the hill into one of the seedier sections of the Blast—if such a thing existed. It was a street officially called Vermont Avenue, but according to Addie, everyone referred to it as Glitter Row.

As they tailed the sedan, nearly a kilometer behind it, Addie caught her breath and punched him in the knee. “Oh my gosh!”

“What?”

“He’s pulling into one of the, um, motels! The Mirror Box.”

“Heh. Perfect.” He spoke a little louder. “Hear that, cab? Go to the Mirror Box motel.”

Addie looked at him, her mouth curving into an amused smile. “Why is it perfect?”

Tony winked at her. “We just need to check in next door, make some noise, and then put your little crawler to work.”

“Make some noise?” Her voice rose an octave.

“You were the one who suggested a distraction—I can drill slowly, but it won’t be silent.” His mouth spread into a wide smile as he heard his unintended double entendre.

Addie punched his knee again. “Don’t you dare!”