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Non-Compliance: Equilibrium
Non-Compliance: Equilibrium
Non-Compliance: Equilibrium
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Non-Compliance: Equilibrium

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Now that Boss is gone, it’s up to Shea and Quinn to keep the peace in the NCS, but with a shortage of supplies, the Orphans making trouble, and Magistrate spreading propaganda about the crew, everything is descending into chaos.
The NCSers begin to turn on the very people who are working hardest to keep them safe, and Shea knows something has to be done—and she’s the one who must do it! When her family is threatened and Shea has only one way out—compliance—she has to make the hardest decision of her life. Eldridge wants her brains and skills on his side of the fence, and if Shea can put up with being a Citizen just long enough, maybe from the other side she can help everyone she’s been forced to leave behind.
Non-compliance: Equilibrium is the final installment of Paige Daniels’ fast-paced, exciting Non-compliance series, and all the mysteries surrounding the vaccine, the chip, and St Jude himself are about to be revealed.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherKristell Ink
Release dateJan 30, 2015
ISBN9781909845701
Non-Compliance: Equilibrium
Author

Paige Daniels

Paige Daniels works as an electrical engineer in the American Midwest. When she isn’t shuttling her kids to gymnastics and violin lessons, or coaching a robot team, she writes. She lives on a small hobby farm with her kids, husband, cows, dogs, horse, donkey, and cat.

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    Non-Compliance - Paige Daniels

    Chapter 1: We Built This City

    So how much longer is it going to be? I scream over the noise of construction.

    Emmett rubs the back of his neck and nervously shifts from one leg to another a couple of times. Um, well, uh, Mrs. Knightly . . .

    I close my eyes and try to find my calm. It’s Miss Kelly. Ignore everything you hear in those tab reports.

    His eyes grow wide. Sorry! Sorry, ma’am. Well, Miss Kelly, we haven’t got enough materials to finish the job and some of the materials you’ve given us haven’t been the best quality. And every time we turn around, either the marshals or the Orphans are here, stirrin’ shit up.

    Where’s Ryan? He’s supposed to be overseeing this job, and I haven’t seen him here in almost a week.

    Emmett’s tiny frame looks as though it’s going be blown away in the gusting wind. Uh, well, he hasn’t been feeling well, Miss Kelly. He asked me to oversee the construction in his place.

    By ‘not feeling well’ do you mean hung over and praying to the porcelain god?

    Um . . .

    That’s what I thought. I should’ve known better than to put Ryan on this job. He hasn’t been the same since his ordeal with Ramsey. I take a breath to keep myself from tearing Emmett to shreds. Okay, let’s start with some easy questions. How many houses do you think you can finish? And when do you think they’ll be done?

    Emmett looks at me with a blank stare then looks down. Uh, well, we haven’t been getting all the supplies we’ve been promised and the ones we have gotten aren’t that great. Sorry, ma’am.

    I let out a long breath. Emmett is right, Magistrate’s been a dick about letting Non-Commers trade with Compliants. I know, Emmett, we’ve been doing the best we can with Magistrate’s new trade sanctions, but we really need to make some progress here.

    Well, I heard that Regent O’Neal is going to convene the Council and have a meeting with Magistrate to do something about that trade bottleneck. Maybe when that gets settled—

    I stop him midsentence. I wouldn’t count on that, Emmett. I know O’Neal’s a pretty powerful woman, but the Council ain’t gonna do a damn thing until Eldridge tells ’em to. So don’t get your hopes up.

    But we ain’t got the materials!

    I’m finding it harder to keep a handle on my emotions. Well, you’re going to have to find a way. I know our situation isn’t ideal. I’m doing the best I can. You guys are going to have to meet me in the middle!

    A hand squeezes my shoulder; a familiar voice whispers in my ear, Hey, babe, take it easy on him. This isn’t his fault.

    I look to Quinn and give him a half-smile then turn back to Emmett. Okay, I know you’ve had a hard time. Just regroup and give me a rough estimate by the end of the week on how long you will think it will take to get the bare minimum up and running. In the meantime, I’ll try to get you more materials. I take a deep breath and collect myself. Something that’s been harder and harder to do lately. You’re doing a good job. But tell Ryan he needs to get his shit together if he wants to hold on to this job.

    He nods, still clearly afraid of me. Um, okay, Mrs. Knight— I give him an icy stare. I mean, Miss Kelly.

    Quinn snickers and leads me away. The bitter wind whips up my coat. I can smell the snow in the air. This isn’t going to be good for our progress at all.

    So, Mrs. Knightly, when exactly did we get married?

    I think it was after you got that stripper pregnant. Apparently, it was the only way I would take your cheating ass back.

    He chuckles. I’m glad to know you’re so open-minded.

    Hardly. If you really did that to me, I’d cut your nuts off and shove them down your throat.

    A hint of a smile crosses Quinn’s face. He grunts and proceeds to walk around the site, examining the construction we started over two months ago. Only a third of what I projected to be done by now is actually complete. Once we took down Ramsey, we vowed we would set up housing on the site that once held his compound. The project has been fraught with problems throughout. I slump my shoulders in defeat; I’ve been so tired and stressed out the last month that I can’t even get any good work done.

    What’s wrong?

    Do you have to ask? It’s this whole build site. It’s a joke. I thought I could put Ryan on it and only check in intermittently, but I was wrong. Now, I have to deal with this asshat, Emmett, who can’t tell a Phillips- from a flat-head. And as if all that isn’t enough, TradeNet is flippin’ useless now due to Magistrate’s sanctions. Half the shit we get is faulty, the other half never shows. Gordon is awesome, but I need Wynne back to help out, but she’s not ready to get back in the game. I haven’t had time to pay attention to the vaccine like I should. Oh yeah, and Magistrate is going to hand over the vaccine in, what, another two weeks? And by the way, how the crap are we going to handle a lottery for it? Everyone’s going to go ape shit when we release that nugget of information. I rub my eyes in hopes that it will relieve the shooting pain behind them. Crap. I seriously need a vacation.

    He takes me by the hand and leads me behind a large shipping container to keep our conversation from prying eyes. He rubs my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. Breathe.

    Quinn, I’m not making this shit up. I—

    Honey, please shut the hell up. Listen, I think for now we’re just going to have to let Emmet take the lead on the housing project, no matter how badly he fucks things up. Ryan clearly isn’t up to the task.

    That will be a PR nightmare and—

    He gives me an icy stare to tell me to shut my pie hole. Right now, you need to focus on the vaccine. We’ll handle the fallout of the housing project. That’s what Claire does best, so let her do her job. You need to calm the fuck down because you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.

    I know. It’s just all the constant problems. Geez, can’t anything go right? I mean, is it asking too much for just one stupid thing to go right? Just as I finish my sentence the sound of lumber cracking and glass breaking fills the air, several yells follow.

    Yes, I think it is.

    I heave a sigh and lay my head on his chest. That’s what I thought.

    He lifts my chin so I’m looking him in the eye. Hon, I’m worried about you.

    What? Why?

    You’re fatigued all the time, and you eat those antacids like candy. And don’t think I didn’t notice you puking your brains out in our bathroom the other night. You’re stressed out to the max and it’s eating you alive.

    I’m just tired and overworked. And that shish kabob at Mo’s didn’t really sit well with me. It’s nothing a beer and maybe a back massage wouldn’t cure, I say as I look at him hopefully.

    He smiles and shakes his head. We’ll see about that. I want you to consider seeing Doc Lyman. Maybe he can give you something to calm you down.

    I scrunch up my nose. I hate pills. I think I like my previous suggestion of beer and back massage better.

    He smiles and rubs my back. Just say you’ll consider it.

    Fine, I’ll consider it.

    We continue walking around the construction site. Honestly, considering all the setbacks, the construction isn’t going that badly. Quinn and I weave through several dusty aisles of large shipping containers that will eventually be housing; the narrow aisles they form cause a sort of a wind tunnel effect. My hair keeps blowing in my face covering my eyes and tickling my nose. I sneeze a couple of times and Quinn looks at me as if I’ve proved his point. I shake my head, then reach into my pocket for my gnarly wool cap, put it on my head, and stuff my hair underneath. As soon as I push the last strand of hair under, the first flake of snow falls, tangling with my eyelashes. I brush it away, but it’s soon replaced by five more. As much as I want to deny it, the winter weather is here to stay.

    Despite the snow, the construction site is abuzz with activity: some of the more technically skilled people are modifying the shipping containers to make them livable; kids are shuttling tools back and forth for their parents; the elderly are giving direction where they can. The whole community is pitching in on this project, mainly because we promised first housing to those who helped. Now I’m worried if we’ll have enough. Yup, a housing and vaccine shortage is going to confirm their suspicions that Quinn and I aren’t up to the task of maintaining the community like Boss did.

    Quinn looks down at me. So, have you seen enough?

    Yeah, I guess so. I check my watch. It’s getting close to meetin’ time anyway.

    And you have an appointment to make.

    Geez, you’re a freakin’ nag, you know that?

    He has a stoic look on his face. And I’m not going to stop either.

    His over-protectiveness used to piss me off . . . well, I guess it still does, but I can understand it, knowing that he had a wife and three kids taken from him. That’s enough to make anyone crazy. The fact that he’s still standing here, able to function, raises my level of respect for him exponentially. I try not to give him too hard of a time, because it’s his way of controlling a shitty situation and ultimately he does care about me.

    When we round the corner of the last storage container in the aisle, we’re face to face with the head marshal, Ed Barton.

    I give him a snarl. Yes, your assholiness, can we help you?

    He chomps the gnarled cigar hanging from his mouth. Knightly, what have I told you about teaching your woman to mind her manners? Her mouth is going to get both of you in trouble one day. If you’re not up to the task, I’m sure I can lend assistance.

    Quinn’s face grows red as he fights to hold back his anger. He takes a deep breath and growls, What is it, Ed?

    A smile crosses his fat wind-burned face. He spits out his cigar and grounds it into the quickly accumulating snow. You worms are certainly making progress on this dump. Did you check with Magistrate before you started building?

    I glare at him. What the hell do you mean? We don’t have to get his permission for shit.

    Ed ignores me, which sets my blood on fire, then turns to Quinn. Technically, everything in the sector is under his purview. Everyone’s safety is ultimately his responsibility. Behind him stands a group of marshals with stun wands in their hands, their face shields down. Ed grins. We wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt would we? He pushes several buttons on the CAMS unit on his wrist. Officers, please start your inspection for outstanding safety hazards.

    I whisper, Oh God, no.

    I watch helplessly as the marshals fan out in varying directions, knocking down two-by-fours, smashing windows, and slashing the sides of some storage containers open. I close my eyes and try to keep my breath even, but several screams pierce the air and my breath is once again ragged and my chest grows tight. Some of our residents take up pipes, lumber, or whatever can be used as weapons to defend themselves. Unfortunately, their makeshift weapons are no match for the marshal’s stun wands and riot tazers.

    Ed snickers and clucks his tongue. What a shame. But it’s a good thing our boys found your deficiencies before anyone got hurt.

    Unable withstand his bullying any longer, I lunge for him and land a swift upper cut on his jaw. He responds by placing his stun wand to my back. I crumple to the ground. Quinn starts for Ed, but Ed laughs and puts the wand to my side. Quinn stops in his tracks.

    Ed rubs his jaw. She packs quite the wallop. I bet she’s pretty exciting when you get her in the sack. Quinn starts to edge toward him again. Ed puts his thumb closer to the wand’s activation knob and cocks his head. That initial stun was on three. These babies go to eleven . . .

    Quinn stays perfectly still and gives Ed a piercing stare. A tear slips from my eye, because at that moment I realize that my presence has handicapped him.

    Ed looks over his shoulder and grins. He gets back on his CAMS. I think that’ll about do it, boys.

    The marshals stop their destruction and file out of the housing area. Ed looks down at me. Next time, I hope your boyfriend will teach you how to be respectful. It could save you a lot of pain.

    Quinn is silent, as if planning his revenge on Ed and everyone. I know it’s nearly impossible for him to control his rage—and this is something Ed knows, too. He stares Quinn down as if challenging him to do something, then he pulls his foot back and kicks my side. I scream then Quinn barks out, That’s it I’m going to kill you!

    No, Quinn, I’m fine. Leave it be.

    He stops, then several marshals appear at Ed’s side waiting for Quinn’s next move.

    Better listen to your girlfriend, Quinny. Then again, tearing you from limb from limb could be fun.

    Quinn takes a deep breath. Just get the fuck out of here.

    You heard him, boys. The pansy’s girlfriend won’t let him play. Maybe some other time. I will break you, Knightly. Your crimes against our brother marshals won’t go unanswered.

    They march out laughing. Quinn stares after them, then kneels down to me. I’m freezing and my muscles still feel like they’re on fire. I try to ease myself up, but my side feels like one big bruise. I slump back down to collect myself. Quinn puts his arms around me. I nuzzle into him, but he pulls away from me and brushes the hair out of my face. Hon, how many times have I told you? You really need to get your temper under control.

    I chuckle and wipe a tear from my eye. Man, Quinn Knightly is telling me I need to get my temper under control. It might be time for an intervention.

    He laughs and places a couple of kisses on my head. You think you can get up?

    Give me a sec. Man, he really got my side.

    Quinn lifts my coat and shirt to see the damage and I see him wince out of the corner of my eye. That’s going to hurt in the morning, but I think you’ll be fine. I’ll pour you a scotch tonight and you’ll feel better.

    My stomach rolls. Yuck, that doesn’t even sound remotely good. I just need to rest.

    You ready to get up now?

    I nod and he puts his massive arm around me and helps me up from the ground. I take a deep breath and look at my watch. We should’ve taken the car into town.

    Told ya.

    As we start to walk out of the construction area, we’re stopped by a massive red-headed tattooed man.

    I look up and smile. Hey, Bobby. What’s up?

    He doesn’t return my smile. We have to talk. I have some information you two really need.

    Chapter 2: The Little Pizzeria

    It isn’t safe to talk here. Do you think you can make it to my restaurant?

    I slowly nod my head. Sure, Bobby.

    Quinn knits his eyebrows. You don’t look so great. I’m going call someone to pick you up, then I’ll meet with Bobby.

    I take a deep breath and collect myself. I’m fine. Okay, I feel like shit, but I’ve had worse days. I need to hear what Bobby says too. Remember, I’m your partner first and foremost. Quinn growls. Seriously, I’m fine. I promise when I get home I’ll take it easy for the rest of the night.

    God, you’re a pain in the ass. Okay, let’s go, but make it quick. The snow is really starting to pick up.

    Bobby leads the way. Our sector has had its share of trials in the last several months, and walking to Bobby’s pizzeria it’s never been more apparent. Most of the storefronts are marred from abuse by the Orphans back when Ramsey was in control of them. I catch a glimpse of the barren spot where Frank’s used to be located. My heart sinks thinking of how I’ll never see that pain in the ass weeble wobble again. God, my life was so much easier when I was pouring watered-down scotches and cleaning bar puke.

    The driving wind and pelting snow brings me back to reality. We’re nearly at Bobby’s. I almost slip and fall on the crumbling icy sidewalk. I guess limping from the blows delivered from Ed doesn’t help my balance much.

    Bobby’s store hasn’t been spared the abuse all the all other businesses have endured. The big glass window of his store has been knocked out and replaced with broken up pallets and plastic bags. He stops, fishes the keys out of his pocket, and opens the door. We all walk into the dark space. The pizza ovens are not cranking out their usual yumminess, leaving the place cold and uninviting. For a split second I anticipate little Mia running out of the backroom screaming for Quinn. My heart sinks when I remember she and Jenny left months ago. I look at Quinn and I can tell from his expression he feels the same way. Bobby has never been the same since his family left. He only gets the pizzeria up and running when he absolutely needs the money. And honestly, the quality of his pizzas has gone way down-hill. I only eat here from time to time, out of pity. Mostly, he sits holed up in this place doing God knows what.

    Bobby flicks the light switch and only half of the lights come on. It looks like no one has cleaned in weeks: pizza boxes are stacked everywhere, there’s thick layer of dust on all the surfaces, and my feet stick to the floor as I cross the room.. I try to stifle my emotions.

    Bobby clears his throat. Um, sorry I haven’t had a chance to clean. I’ve kind of been understaffed since . . . He stops and gets a distant look.

    It’s okay. So what’s going on?

    He looks warn and tired. He’s lost quite a bit of weight and his face is full of stubble. He rubs his head. Oh yeah, well I’ve heard some of the rumblings in town, and it isn’t good.

    Quinn crosses his arms over his chest. What do you mean?

    Um, well, they know I talk to you a lot, and they want me to tell you that shit needs to start changing around here.

    My stomach growls again. What do you mean?

    From the way he shuffles in place, I can tell this is something he’s struggled with telling us. It’s been pretty shitty here lately. I mean, the marshals are attacking anyone and everyone. This housing project should’ve been done by now and we keep hearing rumors that there’s going to be lottery for the vaccine. People are getting nervous, Shea.

    They’ve heard there are going to be lotteries for the vaccine? Fucking, Ed! I’m sure he’s the hub for these rumors.

    I rub the back of my aching neck. Bobby, we’re doing the best we can. You have to understand there’s a lot going on.

    I know, and I’ve told everyone that—

    Quinn cuts him off. So are you telling me the town has regular meetings about us? What’s going on?

    Shea, Quinn, listen. People are pissed. They’re getting the shit beat out of them nightly. We can’t get any good items from Tradenet like we used to. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds. And we’re losing our family members to the flu or to the Compliant Sector. It was never like this with Boss in control.

    I answer, Bobby, it’s not a function of Boss being in control or not. Quinn is just as capable. Magistrate has put down tighter regulations, and I’m sure he has something to do with all the TradeNet troubles we’ve been having. The marshals are taking out their anger over Quinn’s acquittal on the town. Don’t listen to anyone about the vaccine lotteries.

    My stomach sinks at the blatant lie on that last statement. I can’t believe I just lied to one of my best friends.

    Quinn adds, Bobby, you need to stick with us. We’re doing the best we can—

    Bobby slams down his fist on the counter. He looks like a wild trapped animal. Why should I? If you can’t get us what we need to survive, to keep our families here, why should I stick with you? You never had to endure losing your family.

    I look at Quinn, who’s doing a good job of keeping his feelings hidden. The anger starts to rise in me. These people seem to think we party all night long up in the compound while the masses suffer. They don’t see the days on end without sleep, or how for the last month we’ve gotten by on little more than bread, apple sauce, and cheese. I’m tired, hungry, and weary of the constant criticism of my team. My stomach gives another low growl.

    Listen. Don’t think you know everything we go through at the compound. We’re trying. And—

    Quinn gently grabs my hand to stop me. There he goes again. Who knew that Quinn Knightly would be grounding me and keeping me sane? Life is really freaking weird.

    Quinn takes a deep breath. "I realize the challenges everyone is facing. And I do mean everyone. I think you know we’re trying our hardest to keep on top of it all. But you also know that we only have so much power. We are all under Magistrate’s thumb."

    Bobby growls. That’s not good enough. We want housing and a vaccine. It doesn’t look like everyone’s going to get housing, and I can tell you this: if we don’t get a vaccine like originally promised, then everyone is going to revolt. You might have a well-stocked arsenal at your compound, but it ain’t enough to take us all out. We’ll take you down with us.

    "What do you mean we, Bobby?"

    He gives me a piercing look. I mean I’ve given you a heads up, because you’ve been a good friend, Shea. But from here on out, don’t expect anything more from me.

    I choke back the lump in my throat. I can’t believe I’ve been betrayed by one of my best friends. I stare him down.

    Quinn speaks before I can get a word in. If that’s how you feel, then we understand. Thank you for the heads up. We’ll do our best to meet your requests.

    Bobby looks surprised. Okay, then. You’ve been warned.

    Quinn towards the door. I stare at Bobby for a few second then give him a disgusted shake of my head.

    The streets are starting to darken from the incoming storm. In the short time we’ve been in the store with Bobby, the snow has really picked up. The driving snow and wind feel like shards of glass on my skin. The pain throughout my body is making it harder to navigate the weather. Quinn stops and turns back to me.

    You okay?

    No. I'm not just talking about my aching body.

    This is stupid. I’m calling a ride in from home.

    As he puts his hand to his ear to activate his comms unit, a pair of headlights appears from nowhere.

    I look at Quinn and smile. Now, that’s service.

    The big black Crown Victoria pulls to the side. A gray-haired man steps out of the driver’s side and grumbles, Get in the car, you two.

    I smile and crawl into the back of the car. Quinn gets in the front seat and Dad heads down the road. Slowly the cold that has seeped through to my bones melts away. Thanks, Dad, you’re right on time.

    Dad growls and peers at Quinn. He clearly thinks Quinn has put me in harm’s way. Again. I’ve tried to convince him many times that I make my own choices, but like any typical dad, no one is good enough for his little girl.

    Dad barks out, We were starting get worried about y’all. What the hell was taking so long?

    Dad, things have just gotten really interesting.

    Chapter 3: Back with the Crew

    After changing into dry clothes, Quinn and I head down to the conference room. The crew is waiting for us with the addition of Mr. Ito. We started inviting him to our weekly meetings after we asked him to be our lead in town. It’s been a great help to our team to have a point person in town. I’m not sure what we would’ve done without him all these months. As I sit in a chair between Nikki and Gordo, Quinn strides to the front of the conference room. Even in his cargo pants and form-fitting long-sleeve t-shirt, Quinn still exudes a powerful presence; I, however, in my flannel jammie pants and ratty hoodie, do not. I really need to investigate getting a better wardrobe.

    Quinn clears his throat. As you all know, we’ve been in town to assess the construction. It isn’t going well. The marshals and the Orphans are hindering progress, and it doesn’t help that Magistrate put sanctions on most of our TradeNet aquisitions.

    Gordon squirms in his seat and looks down at the table. I put my hand on his. Don’t worry, Gordo, we know you’re trying your hardest. I don’t want you pullin’ any thrillin’ heroics either. Magistrate’s directive to chip anyone caught messing with TradeNet makes it a little more risky to do your job. He’s trying to make everyone as uncomfortable as possible, and it doesn’t help that you’re a one man show these days.

    Gordon squirms more and shakes his head in acknowledgement. Poor guy. I know it’s killing him to be bested by something as stupid as TradeNet.

    Quinn continues. Shea’s right, Gordon, we know you’re doing your best, but we need to find other ways around TradeNet.

    Gordon clears his throat. I think I might have a plan to get us some good stuff. I know we have to use Magistrate appointees for all Level 2 TradeNet transactions and higher, which basically means we’re screwed unless we don’t want anything better than canned beet juice. But after some wheeling and dealing, I’ve found some credentials that could help me get into the better sites. They’re a little old, but I think they’ll work.

    I say, Go ahead with your plans, Gordo, but be careful. Magistrate’s been pretty edgy lately. We don’t have immunity from him anymore, and it won’t take much for him to haul our asses in and chip us.

    He gives me a half smile. Don’t worry, Shea, I won’t do anything stupid.

    Quinn adds, We’re already down Wynne, we can’t afford to lose you too. Gordon smiles with pride. When Shea and I were in town, we met with Bobby. It turns out the townspeople aren’t happy with us and are ready to riot at any moment. When they find out there’ll be a lottery for the vaccine, it’ll be the breaking point.

    Mr. Ito says, Mr. Quinn, I’ve heard some rumblings in town too. The townspeople feel you are not up to the task of taking over from Mr. Boss. The marshals are intent in bringing you down. I think if we can at least keep the marshals and Orphans at bay, we might be able to quell the townspeople’s hostilities.

    Quinn paces and is silent for a bit. The stress of taking over for Boss is apparent in the lines in his face and his increasingly grey hair. Agreed, Mr. Ito. I’m not too worried about the Orphans. If we jerk a knot in their asses a couple of times, I think we can make our point. Our real problem is with the marshals. We need to keep them at bay. We can’t effectively fight them off, because if we give them so much as a hangnail we’ll be carted away and chipped. And if the marshals keep attacking, so will the Orphans. Any ideas?

    Nikki smirks. You know, Ed is pretty keen on his Morality Codes. I think it’s time we use that against the pudgy bastard.

    In the months Boss has been gone, Nikki has really come into her own. Now that it’s no longer a secret she’s part of Quinn’s team and not just Boss’s girlfriend, she has single-handedly made the mercs into a force to be reckoned with.

    Quinn knits his eyebrows. Elaborate, please.

    Sir, Ed and his marshals have a very strict Morality Code, and they make it known to everyone they are better than us Non-Commers because they follow that code. But we’ve all seen Ed and his crew at Heads and Tails, or paying for a date with some of the ladies in town. It wouldn’t be too hard to get some rather compromising footage of Ed and the other marshals.

    I smile. That’s a great idea, Nikki. We’re all in town enough. I think we could all tag-team this effort.

    Quinn nods. Good thinking, Nikki. In the meantime, Conner and Lindsey, I need you to make it clear to the Orphans that we don’t want to see them anywhere near the construction site. Do you understand?

    Conner and Lindsey nod. Conner looks tired and pale. He’s been practically living with Wynne in the annex since she came home. I relieve him periodically to look after her, but he’s taken the brunt of the responsibility on himself. He’s really grown up these last couple of months.

    Changing the subject, Quinn looks to me and Dad. Have you two made any progress with the chip files?

    I nod. Well, we’ve decrypted everything except that one friggin’ file that’s locked down tighter than your wallet, honey. Quinn growls and I smile. Most of the files were just mapping of chip functions to dot architecture, or at least that’s what it looks like.

    Dad continues. Yeah, the problem is everything we have is so damn confusin’. We can’t really go public with what we have. The only thing that’s crystal clear is that the quantum dots make dandy tracking devices. But we need to find something that’ll prove without a doubt the vaccine is spiked with them. Right now all we have is a bunch of techno-babble that even Wynne and Shea are having problems understanding. We’ll keep tryin’ to unlock the folder, but I have to tell ya, with Wynne out sick, it ain’t goin’ so good.

    I add, We can tell you this much: it’s definitely weird. If I’m reading some of their schematics and flow diagrams right, there are some really advanced functions in the dots, but I can’t tell for sure what they are. Hell, I’m so freakin’ out of practice I don’t know if I’m interpreting any of it right.

    Quinn nods slowly and lets out a heavy sigh. I understand you’re working on this, but we really need to figure it out, and fast. Not only are the people in our sector losing patience, but so are the leaders of the other sectors.

    Conner asks, What other leaders?

    "At our last meeting with the other NCS leaders from across the country, they were getting suspicious of why we had the vaccine offered to us and

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