Blood Zero Sky by J. Gates Page A

traffic-choked streets below.
    Clair and I are in the chopper, running away.
    Flying low under the radar grid just as Clair instructed, I slalom past the countless skyscrapers, all of them monuments to N-Corp’s seemingly infinite wealth. The tilting and turning, the speed, the blurred world racing past, it makes me want to puke and laugh all at once.
    “Executive Two, come in,” the radio belches. I glance at it, then at Clair.
    “Don’t answer,” she says. She’s mostly recovered from all the soot she inhaled, but her eyes are still red and watery. She keeps running one hand through her hair nervously, but her gun is still pointed at me.
    “Executive Two, come in, this is an emergency.”
    A web of thick power lines confronts us around a blind corner, and I yank us upward. The roller-coaster feeling twists in my stomach, except this no N-Fun Park. There’s nothing safe about this ride.
    “Executive Two—” Then, in the hollow-sounding world of radio waves, we hear the speaker address someone else in the room with him.
    His words are soft, but audible: “No answer. The anarchists must’ve stolen the chopper.”
    Then, someone else comes on: “Executive Two, we know what you’ve done. If you think you can get away, you’re mistaken.” I recognize the voice immediately; it’s Blackwell. I don’t know much about security-squad procedures, but I know he probably has the means to shoot down a helicopter with the push of a button.
    “What are we going to do?” I ask Clair.
    She just shakes her head. Her face is horribly pale.
    The first voice comes back on: “Executive Two, come in.”
    Before Clair can stop me, I snatch up the radio receiver.
    “Executive Two here, over.”
    A moment of stunned silence, then: “Who am I speaking with?”
    “Who do you think? May Fields.” Maybe if I act annoyed they’ll leave us alone.
    “Oh. Everything alright up there, Miss Fields?”
    “Yeah, why, you don’t think a woman can fly a chopper?”
    “No, no, sir—ma’am—it’s just that we saw the explosion during your speech, and then you were missing. . . . ”
    “I took off down a stairwell and evacuated. Would you prefer I waited around for another bomb to go off?”
    “No, ma’am, of course not. But you didn’t log your flight. I need to know your current destination.”
    I hesitate for an instant, then say, “My apartment. I’m going to take the rest of the day off, if that’s okay with you. I’m not exactly used to being blown up, and I frankly don’t feel like I’d be very productive today. If anyone needs me, tell them to use my IC. Bye.”
    “Miss Fields,” the man interrupts before I can shut off the radio. “It’s just . . . is there anyone with you?”
    “No,” I say quickly. “Why would there be?” I glance at Clair to gauge her reaction to my lie, but she continues to stare out the windshield, pale and lost in thought.
    There’s a silence on the other end of the radio, then a shuffling, and a new voice greets me: “Miss Fields, this is Blackwell. We got reports you were being kidnapped at gunpoint.”
    Of course, the squad has cameras on the rooftop. I’m such a moron. Clair looks over at me, her eyes wide.
    “Well, you were misinformed,” I say. “Anything else?”
    “Yes,” he says slowly. “If you’re going back to your place, why do our satellites have you heading in the opposite direction?”
    I open my mouth a little, but nothing comes out. My mind’s a blank. Surely there should be some easy answer, some logical, simple lie, but at this moment I’m completely bereft of thought.
    “Fields?” Blackwell says.
    Clair reaches over and snaps the radio switch to “off.”
    “You just got me killed,” she says.
    “I’m trying to help you!”
    “Well, you’re doing one hell of a job of it.”
    I grit my teeth. “You kidnapped me at gunpoint, and I’m still trying to save your life! What more do you want from me?”
    She ignores me, turning back to the window,