VIII: MISPRINT
Min slogs through yet another warren of back alleys, picking her way through a stew of thickening effluent. Her aching muscles scream in protest, but their cries are faint, as if shouted from a great distance. She ignores them, knowing she'll pay for it later.
For the moment, she has more immediate concerns.
Clutching her head in her hands, she blinks furiously, trying to clear the gauzy haze from her vision. Everything has looked blurry since she woke up on Willow's operating table. The weight of the new graft makes her head feel lopsided, and she can't shake the feeling that there's some foreign object lodged behind her left eye. It's relentlessly aggravating, like a chipped tooth that won't stop cutting her tongue.
"Buck up, kiddo," Willow whispers. Her voice resonates off the bones in Min's inner ear. "Your vision will clear any minute now."
"My head will still feel awful, though."
"It's a means to an end, Min. You'll get used to it in time." Willow's voice takes on an apologetic tone. "Just keep pushing forward, okay? You're almost at the next turn."
"And then?" The words escape Min's throat in a hoarse croak. This stretch of the Gleam is sweltering, like a swamp and a sauna rolled up in one. Under the broken heat exchangers' searing glare, the floodwater has congealed into an acrid, silvery morass that clings to her legs like taffy. Each new step is an agonizing slog.
"Then you've got a straight shot to the next red dot on your map. The Metropol 117-B Administrative Enclave. That's where you'll find the software gate."
"The MetroClave. I know the place," Min mumbles. "My parents worked there. Orren's mom, too. And I'm pretty sure she and Orren lived someplace nearby." She lets the silence hang for a moment before continuing. "Maybe we could look for him? He was safe in his apartment when the Blackout hit."
"I wish that we could, kiddo," Willow gently replies. "But there's no time to go climbing towers or searching apartments. You're barely going to make it to the MetroClave as it is. I wasn't lying when I told you something bad was coming."
"Orren said he could track his mother's location. Maybe he went out looking for her."
"If he did that, then he's already dead." Willow's voice softens. "I'm sorry, kiddo. If there was a way to save them, I would. But it's too late for them now."
"…Do you know something I don't, Willow?"
"More than you can imagine," Willow sighs. "Believe me, you don't want to know everything I know. But I'll never lie to you, Min. I'll only ever tell you the truth."
"…Okay. But if we do find Orren and he is alive, he's coming with us."
Willow chuckles. "Fair enough. Now, hold on a second… I'm going to use your new graftware to flash a few pictures into your head."
A bright stab of pain brings tears to Min's eyes. It coalesces into a series of images: sketches, floorplans, and finally, an access terminal.
"Sorry about the sting," Willow says. “The images wouldn't stick without it."
"It's okay," Min mutters, blinking. "I'm getting used to it."
"Once you're inside, you'll be on your own. The MetroClave is hardened against… people like me."
"Until the gate is open, right?"
"That's right, kiddo. Until you open the gate."
Min pushes forward, willing her legs to move. "How much more of this stuff do I need to wade through?"
"You've still got a couple of hours before you reach the Enclave, but you'll be entering a cold patch soon. Should give you a chance to catch your breath."
A sudden movement draws Min's eye. It's the body of an old woman, probably in her seventies, half swallowed by the congealing muck. Her torso bucks and shudders as something tugs at it.
Min stumbles backward as a louse the size of a small dog crawls over the dead woman's shoulder. Each of its legs ends in a childlike hand that grips and pinches at the cadaver's sallow flesh.
"Willow?!" Min recoils from the creature, her fatigue suddenly forgotten. "What the hell is that?"
"A Misprint. Keep away from it."
"I figured that part out already. But what is it?"
"Something that shouldn't exist. The city's biofabrication units got scrambled in the Blackout. They're still running, sucking emergency power from the grid. But the things that they're making are… wrong."
Min stares in horrified fascination as the creature peels a long strip of flesh from the cadaver's back. Its toothless mouth yawns open into an idiot grin, and three squirming, grub-white tongues come spilling out to fight over the dangling morsel.
"It's eating her."
"That's what they do. They don't have the instincts for much else. After the gate is open, I'll try to take the fab units offline, but you need to do your part first."
Setting her jaw, Min pushes forward, abandoning the cadaver to its fate. As she wades through the murk, her eyes dart back and forth, dissecting every shadow.
Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't let the monsters catch you. In an apartment building high above, someone is shrieking. Min presses on without an upward glance.
She doesn't know how long it's been since she left the surgical parlor, and for the most part, she doesn't care.
All I want is for this to be over, she thinks, forcing her legs to move. All I want is to be safe.
