The USB stick was right where she’d left it after their last wish. Wayne was right where he was before—both times when she crossed back to the recreation room and then back toward the briefing room. Both times, he’d said nothing and made no motion to stop her.
As she left the mansion and stepped onto Japanese soil, Jo thought of Takako and her family, of Mt. Fuji and the decimation of the surrounding regions. She thought of every line of code, every hack, every digital footprint she’d put in place to lead the citizens of Japan out and away from future tragedy.
Tokyo buzzed on as normal, giant billboards of brightly coloredanimeand video game characters taking up entire skyscrapers. She’d chosen Akihabara as her point of entry—the “electric city.” Yuusuke never stopped ranting about the gamers that could be found in arcades and computer cafes there and, sure enough, here was the place where she found some hole-in-the-wall computer café with towers that still sported USB ports.
The attendant looked at her, albeit somewhat suspiciously given her mastery of Japanese, but made no motion to bar her from renting out a space. Her corner procured, no prying eyes on her, Jo plugged in and began running her scripts. Her heart beat on overtime as she navigated the real-world channels, and it wasn’t until the last dredges of her magic fizzled that Jo felt she could even take a breath.
Returning to the Society felt almost like a dream, her body dragging and her mind clouded from over-exertion.
Jo couldn’t bring herself to head to the common room yet. Blissfully, Wayne was no longer waiting for her, and she could sneak back to the recreation room unimpeded. Even though she’d taken her watch to head back to the real world, the room was just as she’d left it—monitors broadcasting the news included.
Taking up a seat on the futon, Jo watched, waiting for her actions to take root. It took a little longer than she’d expected (or intended), but eventually alerts began popping up on every channel. Jo lifted the remote, clicking to another news station.
“Come on. . .” she whispered—begged to the newscaster. “Tell everyone that—”
“This just in—” a title graphic swooped across the screen, interrupting the woman for a moment “—we are receiving reports of wide-scale evacuations across the Kanto region of Japan. Preliminary protocols are advised to be followed…”
Jo leaned back against the futon with a pleasant sigh. It was working. Things would escalate, dominos would continue to fall, more evacuation zones would be alerted and rising danger warnings would prompt people to move.
Perhaps it was the relief of success, or simply the release of the constant state of mental and magical concentration, but Jo felt instantly heavy, wracked by a wave of exhaustion. A dizzy haze settled over her as she glanced wearily at the bottom of one of the screens.
Her plan had taken nearly thirteen hours to execute, including the one and half she spent back in the real world.
Jo stood, rubbing her shoulders with as much pressure as she could muster (which still wasn’t enough) and took in her workspace. At least half a dozen cans of RAGE were sprawled around the keyboard, and when she finally pulled her attention to the music still blaring from her headphones, it was already a quarter of the way through a repeat of her favorite playlist.
She returned the headphones back to their hook, her fingers protesting the mere idea of even grabbing something. Her knuckles brushed the monitor she’d been working so furiously on in the process, and it flickered off. Jo paused, staring at it. She tapped the screen once, twice… three times, before it finally flickered back to life.
“You gave all you had, too, huh?” Jo gave a small laugh. “Fine, have a rest.” She clicked off the single monitor and started for the door. As was usually the case after a long session, she couldn’t even stomach the sight of a keyboard. She wanted to be anywhere other than that tech-filled dark room.
So Jo headed for the only place she could conceive to be the exact opposite—the open and bright common area.
The door to the recreation room closed before she ever noticed that the monitor had sparked to life only briefly, before fizzling out entirely.
Chapter 13
Hotshot
JO DEPARTED FROM the recreation room and scooped her watch off the shelf, fastening it back over her wrist. The expanse of hall leading to the Four-Way was void of windows. It wasn’t until she was walking down the stairs and heading toward the common area that she even got a sense of time. Of course, she could’ve checked her watch, but that was just sologicaland her brain was far too sluggish for such taxing solutions to life’s simple problems.
Dawn was just cracking over the mountains in the distance, rays of sunlight arcing over their peaks and shining brightly—blindingly—over the pool. It filtered in as vibrant streaks through the columns on the opposite wall of the entry to the common area. For once, the room was silent.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to make my own coffee,” she lamented dramatically to no one in particular. At least, she intended it to be no one in particular.
“I could summon Nico for you.” Eslar’s voice rose up from the couch, only to be followed by the man himself.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” The apology was half-hearted. She’d definitely prefer Nico’s brewing skills to her own. If Eslar insisted, she certainly wasn’t about to stop him.
“How did it go?” Eslar got right to business, forgetting mention of Nico entirely—much to Jo’s disappointment. “Wayne reported he saw you leaving a while ago.”
“Notthatlong ago.” Jo shrugged as she slowly fussed about the kitchen.
“You did not answer my question.”
“Yes sir, sorry sir.” Eslar didn’t seem to appreciate her joking, so Jo returned her voice to a less militaristic tone. “All seems to be well.”
“It must be, if you’re here.” He shifted back onto the seat of the couch, the back of his head to her, tilted down.
The television was off, which meant something else was occupying his attention. Jo strolled over, confirming her suspicions. “Hey—sorry, didn’t meant to startle you.”
