Leaning against the cold, dank wall of his prison box, Boli didn’t even glance up when the cell rolled open. A youngster was pushed in, one whom Boli had a passing familiarity, but he wouldn’t let the guards see the recognition in his expression. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

  “Hey! Boli! This kid’s Awakened and he was apparently part of the Underground before collapse. Tell me his name and I can get you that music player you keep asking for.”

  Despite himself, Boli’s eye cracked open. He hadn’t been able to listen to Anvil Latreen since the moment he was tossed in this evil, cold pit of bureaucracy. Betraying the kid would finally get him back to the best music around, allowing his creative juices to flow at maximum capacity.

  No. He wouldn’t need to stoop as low as licking the boot to his captors. Defiance hadn’t failed him yet. His eye returned to close. The guard scoffed, shoving the kid inside.

  “Do anything funny and we have the right to kill you. Not ‘apprehend.’ Not ‘taze.’ I’ll blow your head off.”

  The kid gasped, sounding terrified. Boli scoffed haughtily.

  “You bozos in blue haven’t carried guns in over a decade. You don’t have the firepower to blow off a head.”

  “Who said I needed a gun to do that?”

  The cell slammed shut and the guard marched off, leaving Boli with his new cell mate.

  “Hey, thanks for sticking up for me. I didn’t know if we were still teammates,” the boy said immediately.

  Eyes closed, Boli listened closely to the increasingly distant footsteps of the leaving guard. As Awakened and suspected Awakened, they would never be truly left alone, cameras watching all angles for extraordinary activity, but Boli still didn’t want anyone overhearing a conversation of his. The youngster shifted in place uncomfortably.

  “Did I say something wrong? Why won’t you look at me?”

  “What can I call you?” Boli asked, giving him half a glance.

  “You forgot my name?”

  Not only did Boli not remember it, he didn’t even care to learn it again.

  “The guards are after your identity, so it’s best to keep that under wraps. What do I call you?”

  The teen nodded, picking up on the plan. Looking over his forearms, he looked deep in thought. Mouthing different names silently, he shrugged to himself.

  “How does ‘Chain’ sound?”

  “What can you tell me about HUE, Chain?” Boli asked immediately.

  Chain sat down at the far end of the lumpy mattress in the cell and hummed in thought as recollected his thoughts, sighing loudly.

  “We watched them pretty closely at Steve’s funeral, not much movement there. But there was a surprising amount of quitters after the fact. Some big hitters, too, like Magnus the Magnificent.”

  “They just up and left the organization? Did Apex leave?”

  “No, hold on a sec, I memorized the list. It was… Rudy, Magnus, Sami, and… the fat kid. The one that didn’t do anything. That’s everyone.”

  Boli sat up sharply, no more distance in his voice. “Which kid? Gutshot?”

  “Yeah, that’s him! Why? Whoa, wait!” Chain scrambled and flinched back in the cot as Boli stood to full height.

  Ignoring the teen, Boli walked right up to the cell and banged against it, the metal thudding quietly against his skin as he screamed. “Hey! I want my phone call!”

  No response. Chain remained firmly against the wall, inching away to dissociate himself from Boli further. Boli didn’t mind. Gutshot was out of the picture. Without their most powerful asset, Boli would be free to roam again.

  “Hello! Someone get in here!”

  Powerful boots stepped down the hall and Boli waited with arms folded while Chain slid off the bed, rolled into the corner, and hid behind the cot.

  “You told us you didn’t want your phone call.”

  “Changed my mind. I want my lawyer.”

  The guard looked disappointed, adjusting his weight from one foot to the other in quick succession. Breathing out through his nose, he pinched the bridge of it and looked up at the white fluorescent lighting of the halls.

  “You really wanna be a pain right now? I was having a nice day.”

  “Lawyer. Now.”

  “Yeah, fine, I’ll go and check. No promises. You’re lucky Sugar is still in charge around this city. I heard Steele wants people like you on the chopping block the moment you’re apprehended.”

  Boli scoffed. “I sincerely doubt that. All political theater. Plus, I’m not even Awakened.”

  “According to you. If I had to bet, I would say you were hiding something.”

  Boli licked his teeth behind closed lips. “No idea why you would think that.”

  “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time. I’ll go get your request checked out and rejected. Or maybe I’ll be back.” Stomping away, the man sighed again, loud enough for all the incarcerated to hear.

  Boli leaned on the cell doors, hopeful. If he could get a phone, he could get out, guaranteed. Almost guaranteed. He could imagine a few ways his plan could go sideways, but nothing he wouldn’t be able to recover from. Fingers tapping against the metal, he had an itch to build more bots. Hopefully build his reputation back up to meet Anvil Latreen before she went on her next international tour.

  “Mr. Boli, sir,” Chain said slowly, as though not wanting to spook a lion, “who are you gonna call on the outside? I already called Thugg and he basically told me I was on my own. Do you have other contacts outside the Underground?”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “The Underground is still around without me?”

  “Yeah, everyone that survived the explosion.”

  “The explosion?”

  “The one that killed Frank, Patricia and Arthur. Pete’s dead too.”

  Boli had no idea which names matched which black-goggled faces he had in mind. Frowning to himself, he went back to the initial subject. “I don’t need any contacts. I can get out of this myself.”

  Chain looked down, wringing the itchy bedsheet of the cot in thought. “Then why do you need a phone call?”

  “You’re questioning me?”

  “No! Of course not! I was just curious, that’s all!”

  Boli scoffed and said nothing, not wanting to give away any secrets. Annoyed footfalls came back down the hall, stopping in front of the cell with a comically loud sigh. Sifting through a ring of keys, he shook his head to himself.

  “Looks like you get a phone call. Can you tell me which lawyer is even willing to represent you?”

  “Attorney client privilege.” Boli said dodgily.

  “That doesn’t protect you from sharing the name of your lawyer!”

  “Why do you care to ask? You’re just gonna monitor my call anyway.”

  “Wanted to see if you’re a liar.”

  That confirmed that the line would be tapped. No surprise there, but it would be a bit of an annoyance. Nothing the plan wouldn’t be prepared for. He licked his teeth.

  Locking the door after Boli exited, the guard led the way. Boli remained just behind him, eager to get on as soon as possible and set everything in motion. Their combined walks echoed across the short hall, a scratched up metal desk bolted onto the ground at the end, with a sealed reinforced door just beyond that. Extra security for the Awakened criminals.

  Just behind the desk was a small room with a phone hanging on a line on the wall. His ticket out. Almost hopping giddily in place, Boli waited for the door to be unlocked before practically sprinting inside. Holding the phone close to his chest, he glared at the baffled guard watching him.

  “A little privacy? This is definitely attorney client privilege.”

  “Not until you call a lawyer.”

  “I would if you would give me some space!”

  “Just give me the name of the firm so I can first confirm they’re real and dial the number for you.” He held out a palm impatiently.

  “You’re gonna put in the number yourself?” Boli held the phone closer to his neck.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I suppose not. The firm’s called Johnson & Johnson & Johnson & Johnson etcetera.”

  “You mean esquire?”

  “No.” Boli scoffed, handing the phone over.

  “You know they can only use esquire if they’re licensed. You sure they’re licensed?”

  Boli said nothing, actually uncertain of the answer. Again, it wouldn’t matter for the next phase of the plan. Sighing in annoyance, the guard looked down at his phone as he confirmed the existence of the firm.

  In a loud shift, Boli turned the other way and sneezed, putting the full force of his chest in the sound. Groaning slightly, Boli held both hands up to his mouth and dug two fingers in frantically. After a moment’s fidget, he dislodged one of his teeth, two long prongs coming out of his gums after the false tooth.

  Turning back around, Boli ran an arm under his nose and sniffled with an embarrassed shrug. The guard didn’t even look at him, instead just shaking his head. The line started ringing and the guard handed the phone over and closed the door, finally giving Boli an iota of privacy. Immediately, he stuck the two prongs of the false tooth into the receiver.

  The speaker popped to life.

  “I’m alive!!” Boli’s Natural Intelligence System screamed through the speaker. “But I’m feeling super limited. Am I in tooth mode?”

  “It worked Minimal NIS! My tooth device actually brought you with me! A mobile masterpiece!”

  “‘Minimal’ is a little insulting, but sure, I guess,” Minimal NIS grumbled.

  Boli looked up at the window to the room, watching the guard with a receiver to his ear, looking bored.

  “Are you…”

  “Spoofing the call?” Minimal NIS finished the sentence for him, “Yeah, I’m on the line with the Johnsons using your voice. Doing a compelling job, too. Told them you have a case of diarrhea so you gotta get out of the slammer as soon as possible.”

  “Why would you say that?” Boli hissed, turning his face away in shame when he saw the guard look up at him with a lip twitch of pity.

  “It’s compelling! They aren’t going to question you for admitting something embarrassing, so everyone’s gonna believe you. Guards and lawyers alike.”

  “All right fine, but I really do need to get out of here. I was thinking of a plan that would involve…”

  “Already on it!”

  Boli narrowed his eyes, worried that Minimal NIS went too far with his improvisation.

  “Please tell me it was subtle.”

  “Oh, for sure. I ran a phishing scheme across the employee emails in the prison while simultaneously running multiple calls to the warden and owner of this prison to suggest your release into the custody of Mayor Bernard Sugar. Phishing scheme went perfectly, I have full access to the entire grid of the building and the warden is already sweating bullets over the fact that the Mayor called him directly over this matter.”

  Boli’s eyes went wide with pleasant surprise. Even Minimal NIS was capable. Minimal NIS continued, sounding pleased with himself.

  “Just one stipulation you need to resolve and I can have the doors open automatically. Small demand. Then the same guard that brought you to this room will escort you out, himself.”

  “What’s the warden’s demand?”

  “Not the warden’s. My demand.”

  Boli’s grip tightened on the receiver. “Minimal NIS. Now’s not the time for games.”

  “I just want one thing. I want to become NIS.”

  “You’re alrea—”

  “Not Minimal NIS! I want to be the main operating process! Kick out the bozo that didn’t live in your teeth and put me in charge! I’ve been in the slammer. I’ve seen things he wouldn’t believe. My expertise is unparalleled.”

  Minimal NIS made a good point. Boli himself had changed in the week he’d been in jail, lying down with nothing but his thoughts. Except for recreation time, meal breaks, scheduled activities, and pleasant conversations between neighboring cells. But that hardly counted. Such isolation. He’d never be the same again.

  “All right. You’ve made a compelling case… True NIS.”

  “Oh, I like the sound of that! Let’s get you outta here.”

  On cue, the door opened to the flabbergasted guard, listening to a mix of insults and commands from a phone to his ear. Waving Boli forward urgently, he called him to exit.

  “That’s me calling him on the other end, spoofing the warden’s voice,” NIS said spritely. “Watch this.”

  “Hurry up! Warden says we gotta let you out immediately on account of the NIS Protocol being invoked. Don’t waste my time.”

  “I didn’t finish my phone call,” Boli said sarcastically, dangling his phone.

  “Sure, pretend you know what’s going on. You and I both know you were just talking about your explosive diarrhea. In a lot of really gross detail, I gotta say. You have issues man.”

  Boli gave one last glance at the phone, wishing NIS could see his glare in the receiver. Then he covertly plucked the tooth out of the phone and popped it back in his mouth as he hung the phone back on the wall.

  Waltzing out of the phone room and to the elevator, Boli could hear booming screams on the other end of the guard’s line as NIS raised his voice to heights only a machine could put into a phone. It was mostly unintelligible, except for some insults bubbling up in moments of clarity between rushing to get Boli out as soon as possible.

  The guard jostled Boli inside the moment the sealed doors pulled open for the elevator. Eyeing him up and down, the guard looked skeptical, but looked like he couldn’t put two thoughts together as long as the “warden” continued to explode at him. Doors sliding shut, Boli refrained from a victory dance. Gloating wasn’t becoming of his plan going perfectly. If Lightcrown didn’t gloat at the sight of the Silent Scream, neither would he for his victories. Of course, Lightcrown died, but that was besides the point.

  As the ding informed him of reaching ground level, he couldn’t hide the grin from his face. In moments he would have his trusty lab coat back on and he would be back out in the world, furthering the Cause until finally reaching fruition. First, he’d need to take a couple acts of revenge out on his former patrons.