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“And... the guy is passing.”

Alec nodded. He understood — a transgenic passing as human. “Lot of those around. And this helps Max how?”

“Guy might know who’s killing on the outside.”

Alec perked up. “How would he know?”

Joshua looked at the floor, then up at Alec. “They knew each other at Manticore.”

“They?” Alec asked. My God, this was like pulling teeth — and Joshua had some big teeth...

“The guy,” Joshua said, “and Kelpy.”

Alec frowned. “Kelpy? Is that a name?”

“It’s a name: Kelpy — Chameleon Boy.”

Alec felt like he needed a map to follow the conversation. “Chameleon Boy?”

“Kelpy... he could be the one.”

“The one?”

“The one... taking skins. Killing.”

Finally, Alec felt like he was in the same conversation as Joshua; and this was indeed important. “Kelpy’s on the outside?”

“Yes — Max freed him, like she did me, and so many of us.”

“Where on the outside?”

“That Joshua doesn’t know. But...”

Again, Alec could discern the drift. “You think this guy you know might know where Kelpy is?”

Joshua nodded vigorously.

“Great. Good job, Joshua. Now — let’s go tell Max.”

Pawlike hands went up, as if in surrender, and Joshua’s eyes flared. “Can’t!”

Alec, about to head back into the media center, froze. “Can’t?”

“He’s passing for human. If I tell Max, and she tells that detective...”

“You’re afraid this guy’s cover will be blown.”

“Cover blown?”

“People will know he’s transgenic. He won’t be able to pass, anymore.”

“Yes, Alec! Yes — guy’s cover blown.”

Alec shook his head. Leave it to Joshua to have a moral dilemma about this; anyway, Alec sure as hell wouldn’t. “You know Max, Joshua — she won’t blow your friend’s cover.”

Joshua shook his head. “No way. Joshua promised guy.”

“All right — then you and I’ll slip out, and just... talk to your friend.”

“Can’t!”

Figuring he understood Joshua’s hesitance, Alec said, “We’ll find a way out of here without being seen. Then we’ll talk to your friend, and we’ll find this Kelvin, and talk to him too.”

“Kelpy.”

“Kelpy, Kelvin, whatever.” Alec placed a hand on Joshua’s big bony shoulder. “We’ll find a way out, buddy — take care of business and be back before anyone notices.”

The big mane shook from side to side. “Can’t go! Max said so.”

“She didn’t mean us,” he lied. “We’re part of the inner circle.”

“Inner circle?”

“Yeah — she meant all the others, you know, at the big meeting. She said if anyone had any info, to tell us — remember?”

Joshua thought about that, nodded.

“So when they bring info to us, we’re supposed to do something about it, right?”

“Right — like tell Max.”

“Yeah, but we can’t tell Max. You don’t want to blow your friend’s cover, remember? So we gotta handle this ourselves.”

“Ourselves.”

“Right. And if we can solve these murders, we’ll be heroes.”

Joshua’s eyes brightened. “Heroes?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alec said, getting into it now. “We’ll be heroes, Max’ll be happy, and we’ll all get the hell out of Terminal City.”

“Max happy?”

“She’ll be ecstatic if we can find out who this skinner is. All we have to do is figure a way out of Terminal City.”

Joshua shrugged. “Tunnel,” he said.

“We don’t have time to dig a tunnel, bro,” Alec said.

Joshua stepped closer, grabbed Alec by the sleeve. “Already have a tunnel — Joshua’s in the inner inner circle!... Come on.”

Half an hour later, the handsome X5 and his caninelike friend stood on the street beyond Logan’s building. Joshua wore a motorcycle helmet that covered most of his face, and they both had on loose, anonymous jackets. The cops were all looking toward Terminal City, so Alec and Joshua just quietly walked away into the cool overcast Seattle morning.

“Where’s your friend live?” Alec asked.

“Far.”

Alec nodded. “Of course he does. We wouldn’t want this to be too easy, would we?”

Joshua frowned in confusion. “Why not?”

“Just jokin’.”

“I see. Alec likes to lighten up even serious situations.”

“Yeah. I’m a laugh riot. Well, come on, big guy — we’ll work on our little transportation problem.”

Alec longed for his motorcycle, but figured that was a lost cause. The cops had probably impounded it as soon as Normal told them who he was; and though Normal seemed far more tolerant toward trangenics now, he would still be cooperating with the cops.

So, they’d have to steal a car. Such contingencies were not a problem for Alec, who was a pragmatic, situational-ethics kind of guy. What with the siege at Terminal City, there were fewer cops on the Seattle streets, but — having watched the news with Max — Alec knew that those fewer cops were also shooting more and chasing less.

They would have to be careful.

Alec considered calling Logan Cale for a ride; but Logan hadn’t been in his new Medtronics pad when they’d exited, and Alec didn’t have Cale’s cell number with him. Anyway, Alec knew that Logan would’ve talked to Max about them all staying within the fence line, and Logan just might rat them out for being outside — the guy was totally pussy-whipped by Max, after all.

Safer to steal a car, Alec decided.

Three blocks later, Alec saw what he wanted: a gray Catbird parked against the curb, with no one around. Five minutes or so after that, he and Joshua were riding in style — a GM, the Catbird was one of those new ones with four-wheel drive, room for eight, and — if they were lucky — it would have a nice selection of movies. Gray seemed such a nice, nondescript color, plus Alec had switched plates with a sky green Olds.

For the first time since they’d left Terminal City, Alec felt safe and in control.

“Okay, bro — where’s your friend live?”

Joshua said, “Queen Anne.”

Alec counted the checkpoints between here and there. Getting through them would be tough anytime, and even harder doing it in daylight. “This guy, does he work?”

“Guy has good job.”

“Yeah?”

“Janitor,” Joshua said with a envious smile.

Alec made a mental note to explain to Joshua the difference between a job and a good job. “Does the guy work during the day?”

“Sure,” Joshua said.

“So, then — he won’t be at home now, he’ll be at work.”

“Yeah, right.”

Back to pulling teeth again. “Do you know where he works?”

“Works at school.”

“Joshua — do you know which school?”

The big guy looked lost for a long minute, and in the meantime Alec drove around aimlessly, avoiding checkpoints and adhering to the speed limit.

“Suzuki,” Joshua said at last.

Nodding, Alec asked, “Ichiro Suzuki Elementary?”

“Yes! Suzuki Elementary.”

Alec allowed himself a smile. Named after the legendary Japanese immigrant baseball player, Ichiro Elementary was one of the few public schools that had stayed open, post-Pulse. The beauty of Joshua’s friend being there, instead of at home, was that now the transgenics in the stolen car would pass through only one checkpoint, not five.

Pleased with how this was turning out, Alec sped off toward that checkpoint.

The line waiting to pass through was mercifully short and they sat for only a couple of minutes before the checkpoint cop — an athletic young man with brown hair and a ready smile — waved them forward.