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Excerpt:
Mark
knew this operation would be impossible to execute successfully
without the inside man, Paul, the main administrator of the mine,
working with them. Mark knew Paul had hated Carl. Carl murdered
Mark and Austin's father when their father realized Carl was dealing
in slaves. Paul, who was located somewhere in this complex, was
going to help them free the human slaves scattered among the artificials.
It was a daunting task, but Mark was confident they could succeed
if they kept their heads about them. But Mark was growing impatient.
It was hard to be patient when there were human slaves who needed
rescuing.
A guard
stood at a distance from him. Guards didn't frighten him anymore.
They just made him angry. And that was the tough part; he didn't
dare show that anger. He was supposed to be an artificial--not an
emotional human.
Now
a second guard approached the first. The guard held out his note
pad to the first guard. The first guard looked at Mark and nodded
as if giving permission. God, what now? he thought. The second
guard turned slowly toward Mark and tapped its heart with its open
palm. It was Abby! She walked toward him. When she got within arms
reach she took him by the upper forearm and yanked him to her. He
looked into her visor but could see nothing. He could hear her breathe,
and he was comforted by the sound because only Abby could breathe
like that. Without speaking she pointed to an empty shuttle some
distance from them. She pulled the riot baton from her belt and
began rhythmically slapping it into the palm of her hand. Mark began
to walk toward the shuttle, his best friend only inches behind him,
his best friend doing a chillingly effective job at being a despicable
bastard.
When
they reached the shuttle, he climbed on, faced backwards, and grabbed
the hand rails. He didn't know where she was taking him, but he
was comforted by the fact that she was close to him.
She
accelerated rapidly and took corners quickly. Several times Mark
found himself in danger of falling off. He wanted to yell at her
to slow down, but knew he couldn't. Now the shuttle came to an almost
screeching stop. He felt himself going over backwards, his inertia
almost taking him up Abby's backside, but he managed to hang on.
A guard
came to the shuttle. Abby handed the guard a set of papers. The
guard looked at them closely, then handed the papers back to her
and waved her on. Where was she taking him? They came to a branch
in the hallway. Abby turned down it. This hallway had a different
feel to it. The doors were no longer gray steel; they were made
of rich wood. She slowed the vehicle now, apparently looking for
a name on the door. Then she stopped. "Get off," she growled. Mark
was chilled by her voice. He would never forget this experience.
He knew she was acting for both their benefit, but on some level
it frightened him.
He got
off and she again took his forearm in her gloved grasp and literally
pulled him to the door. He could see several guards down the hall
from them. They ignored Mark and his best friend. Abby knocked on
the door, and the door opened.
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