The Plague Forge [ARC] by Jason M. Hough Read Free Book Online

needed to draw and turn on the guard behind her.
    “Relax, dear,” Dee said, leveling a condescending gaze on Samantha. “These walls have no ears. I’m just starved for information in this cave. No one comes to visit anymore, to tell me stories or buy some pleasure. I used to count some Orbitals among my clientele, did you know that?”
    Prumble cleared his throat. “Clock’s ticking, Dee.”
    The big woman mad a theatrical sigh and shooed them with one fat, jeweled hand. “Blake, show them to the comm. Give them privacy for twenty minutes.”
    One of the guards came forward. “Yes, madam. This way.”
    The comm room had once been someone’s kitchen. Tiles had been chipped off the counters, leaving glue-smeared plywood underneath. A refrigerator still sat in the corner, though it had been turned to face the wall, all its guts ripped out through the back for spare parts.
    On a rickety wooden table in the center of the room sat a serving platter dotted with lit candles, providing the only light. Next to that a dusty, antique comm waited for them. Cables snaked out the back, across the table, and over to the countertop before exiting through a boarded-up window. Sam guessed there’d be an aerial on the roof, well hidden, no doubt.
    Comms were rare in Darwin. Before SUBS, most everyone carried a personal slate that relied on the global mesh for connectivity. That infrastructure vanished shortly after the city became the City . Looted equipment, failed power sources, and the hubs that ran the whole thing off in places like Sydney and Ho Chi Minh City. A comm, though, could make a direct connection with another comm. Private relays could be arranged. Corporations and governments used them to avoid the bottlenecks of a shared network. Rural homes and ocean vessels loved them for the range they provided. Criminals used them to keep away from prying eyes and ears.
    Sam assumed this one had been stolen, probably during the chaos when the refugees started to pour into the city. There was writing on the side, Vietnamese, she thought, so it might have been brought there and bartered with. She wondered how many hours a man could have purchased in one of the rooms below for such a thing. Just one, most likely, ending with a knife in the back.
    There were only two chairs at the table. Prumble moved one into the far corner, sat, and rotated the comm to face him. Skadz offered the other chair to Sam, but she waved him off and leaned against the counter instead. He mouthed “your loss” and sat next to Prumble.
    While the big man waited for the comm to start up, he fished around inside his duster and produced a small pink box. He handed it over his shoulder toward Samantha without looking. “Set this on the counter there and switch it on, okay? Aim it at the door.”
    “Sure,” Sam said. The pink device had the words SLEEP , BABY , SLEEP ! written on the side. “What is it?”
    “Infant sleep aid.”
    “I can read.”
    “It generates soothing sounds,” Prumble said. “Like white noise, for example. A paranoid precaution.”
    Samantha didn’t think it paranoid at all. They were about to make contact with the runaways, the first action they’d taken that Grillo would likely have them all killed for. If Dee had an untrustworthy bone in her body—and Sam guessed she had a lot of those—she’d record this supposedly discreet use of her precious comm. Once she realized the Jacobites would be very interested in the conversation, she’d either try to sell the information or keep it for bartering her way out of any trouble in the future. Given the nature of her business, such trouble was a virtual guarantee. Sam set the device on the counter and switched it on. Static came from the tiny speaker.
    “Come stand behind us, Sam,” Prumble said. “Keep your voices low.”
    Sam followed his command and moved around so she could see the screen. A ripple of excitement ran through her at the prospect of hearing Skyler’s voice