Serial Killer vs. E-Merica Read Free Page B

to make the soul call. As a rule, though, the unpredictable Developers didn't answer every call, even from a qualified Speaker.
    In the blazing light of the soulpipe, Sinaloa gazed upward and spread his arms wide. "O' masters of the source code, I beg you--hear my prayer!" As Sinaloa spoke, his feet left the floor. Spinning slowly, he rose into the air, following the soulpipe's beam. "Representative Sinaloa...transmit now !"
    Suddenly, Sinaloa exploded upward, streaking along the soulpipe in a strobing blur. There was a distant sonic boom as he vanished into the heavens, flashing out of sight among the flickering garlands of stars.
    "Wow." Antarctica walked around the base of the soulpipe, staring up into Sinaloa's rippling wake. "He's in True America now?"
    "Somewhere between here and there," said Nevada. "A hub outside the Developers' firewall."
    "Don't you mean fire ball ?" said Antarctica.
    "Fire wall ," said Nevada.
    Antarctica frowned. "It's just that I see one now. A fire ball ."
    Nevada squinted upward...and then he saw it, too. A clutch of flames far above, burning in the firmament.
    Burning and falling.
    Nevada lashed an arm around Antarctica's waist and ran with her, racing away from the soulpipe. Just as they reached the far wall, a thunderous impact crashed down behind them.
    Nevada and Antarctica stumbled as the floor buckled. Bracing each other, they managed to stay on their feet...and as the tremor faded, they turned.
    The soulpipe was gone. In its place, in the center of the rotunda, was a smoking crater.
    "Stay back," said Nevada, and then he ran toward the crater. In spite of his order, he heard Antarctica running close behind him.
    When Nevada reached the broken rim of the crater, he saw what had caused the impact. He saw what had fallen from above like a fiery comet.
    The body of Sinaloa lay in the crater's heart, curled like a fist and charred from tip to toe.
    Antarctica drew up alongside Nevada and gagged. "Oh no."
    "I guess they're not taking our calls." Nevada stepped over the edge and eased into the crater. He saw that parts of Sinaloa were still smoldering, glowing cherry red in familiar patterns.
    There were messages on Sinaloa's body, burned into his flesh.
    "Ninety-seven." Nevada pointed to Sinaloa's left arm, where the numbers had been branded. Then, he pointed at the letters seared into Sinaloa's right arm. "A-C-I-R-E-M-A. 'Acirema.'"
    Finally, he read the smoking words on Sinaloa's charred chest. "'ANSWERS IN HOUSE NOW.'"
    Leaping into action, Nevada clambered up the crater's slope and over the rim. He started running the instant his feet hit the floor.
    *****
    Four figures wrapped in star-spangled robes waited outside the big double doors of the House chamber. Their faces were hidden in the depths of shadowy hoods, arms folded across their chests.
    Nevada and Antarctica stopped running, staying well back from the hooded figures. Even from a distance, Nevada could see that their blue-and-white robes were stained with splotches of dark red.
    Nevada took a step forward. "Stand aside. The sergeant-at-arms has business with the House."
    To his surprise, the figures moved to comply. The two in the middle turned and opened the doors to the chamber--but they did not usher him inside. Instead, a fifth figure emerged, clad in red-and-white-striped robes, also hooded.
    As the two figures who had opened the doors pulled them shut, the fifth robed figure glided forward. The voice that flowed from under the hood was that of a man...hoarse and muffled, but clearly a man.
    "Hello again," he said. "I told you we would meet again after three and four, didn't I?"
    Nevada recognized the voice instantly. "Looking Glass."
    "Victims three and four are dead, so here I am." Looking Glass bowed his head. "Have you deciphered the clues I gave you?"
    "No," said Nevada.
    Looking Glass chuckled. "Then prepare to have your mind blown."
    Nevada took a step back, pulling Antarctica with him. He briefly considered running, if