The System Can’t See Me

The second impact did not come right away.

That made Kai listen for it.

Water ticked from a broken seam in the wall. The pipe hanger gave an occasional dry click as the lunch box shifted under the belt. Somewhere above the sump, metal expanded or settled with a faint pop. Every sound seemed close enough to touch.

The thing beyond the inner grille made no sound at all.

Kai stood with his right arm pinned against the rail. The cord had dried stiff where it crossed his skin, but it still gave a little under each pull from the blue band. He could feel the warning in his shoulder before the cord tightened. It was not enough warning to do anything with.

Nia watched the lunch box.

"How long?" he asked.

She glanced at the buckle. "Longer than the cord, maybe."

"That is reassuring."

"I am trying not to lie to you."

The pipe hanger was fixed to the far wall, just above the box. Kai's belt ran through it, across the cracked lid, under the plastic handle, and back to the buckle at the side. The buckle prong was still in the same hole. The leather around it had stretched pale and ragged. Each time the box pressed outward, the prong cut a little farther through the wet strip.

A thin blue thread slid out from the lid's loose corner and followed the floor toward the grate.

Nia rubbed dirt off her palms on the thigh of her jeans. "It needs something to keep the buckle from tearing through."

Kai looked at the sump. The red cord was around his arm. His belt was already around the box. There was nothing left that he could reach with his left hand except the rail and the plastic sleeve inside his jacket.

"What do you have?"

Nia bent over her remaining boot.

The laces were dark with water and concrete dust. She tugged the knot loose with both hands.

"No," Kai said.

"It is a lace."

"It is the only shoe you have left."

"It will still be a shoe. It will just be a worse one."

"You need it to climb."

Nia pulled the first length free from the top eyelets. "I need the box to stay shut more."

Her other, bare foot twitched when she put weight on it. The faint blue mark around her ankle was little more than a stain now, but Kai had seen what it did when the floor grate moved. He did not need another demonstration.

"If you take it out, you will not be able to run," he said.

"Neither will you."

It was not cruel. That made it land harder.

She kept pulling the lace free. It slid through the metal eyelets in wet, reluctant jerks. When it came loose, the tongue of the boot fell open against her ankle. The boot stayed on, but it no longer gripped her foot.

Nia coiled the lace around her fingers and looked at the narrow dry path between the wall and the blue runoff.

"Do not step in that," Kai said.

"I know what water is."

"That is not water."

She looked at the blue thread. "Then tell me if it moves."

Then she moved.

The path was not really dry. It was concrete that had not been reached yet. Nia kept her shoulder close to the wall, set the loose boot down first, and brought her bare foot after it only when she had found a patch without blue in it. She moved slowly enough that the lunch box seemed to be waiting for her.

Halfway across, the blue band around Kai's arm pulled.

The red cord tightened with a dry snap that was not quite a break.

Kai's shoulder hit the rail. He lost his breath and nearly let go of the zipper over the Archive copy. His left hand caught the jacket closed again.

Nia stopped with one hand on the wall.

"Still holding?" she asked.

Kai looked at the cord. One red strand had separated near the knot. The rest were twisted tight against his arm.

"Go," he said.

"That is not what I asked."

"It is what you are getting."

She did not argue. She crossed the last few feet and crouched beside the lunch box.

Up close, the lid did not look like it had in the office. Its cheap blue plastic had bowed around the crack. The faded letters on the front were scratched nearly blank. Blue residue beaded under the edge and ran over Nia's knuckles when she reached for the buckle.

She yanked her hand back.

The skin was not burned. It just went cold so quickly that her fingers stopped closing for a second.

"Do not touch the leak," Kai said.

"I noticed."

Nia wiped her hand on her jacket and tried again from the dry side. She could not move the buckle without making the lid shift. The pipe hanger held the belt high, but the wet leather had started to peel around the prong. Another hard knock from inside the box would tear it open the rest of the way.

She tested the buckle with the side of one finger. The metal frame did not move, but the leather did. It drew taut around the prong, then relaxed with a soft wet sound. Kai saw a fresh crescent where the hole had widened.

Nia looked from the buckle to the handle. The handle was the only part of the box that still sat below the cracked lid without flexing. If she could make the lace pull from the buckle frame to that handle, the box would have to drag the lace before it could force the prong through the leather.

She slipped the end of the bootlace through the metal frame of the buckle.

The lace was too soft to pull against the whole lid. She knew it. Kai could see it in the way she paused, measuring the distance to the handle and then back to the prong.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Keeping the buckle from walking out of the leather."

"That will work?"

"It might make it slower."

Kai looked at the blue runoff closing the distance to the grate. Slower was the only kind of help left in the sump.

She fed the lace under the plastic handle, keeping her fingers clear of the crack, then brought it back to the buckle frame. The line lay flat across the side of the lunch box. If the prong tore free, the lace would pull against the handle before the belt could open completely.

The handle pressed against the lid as she worked. A drop of blue residue slid down from the corner above her hand and struck the concrete beside her boot. It smoked without heat, leaving a dark wet spot that spread in a thin ring.

Nia shifted farther from it. The loose boot twisted around her ankle. She had to hook her heel inside the open back before she could brace again.

Nia braced the loose toe of her boot against the base of the wall and drew the lace tight.

The boot slid and her foot came half out of it. Her bare foot skidded sideways toward the blue thread on the floor.

Kai pushed against the rail before he could stop himself.

The cord bit deep into his arm.

Pain flashed from his shoulder into his throat. He caught Nia's jacket with his left hand at the same moment she caught the pipe hanger with one hand.

For a second, all three restraints took weight at once: the red cord around Kai's arm, the belt over the lunch box, and Nia's fingers around the hanger.

The box knocked beneath her hand.

The lid rose less than an inch. A hard blue glow filled the gap, too flat and cold to show what lay beneath it. It made the crack look deeper than it should have been.

Nia shoved the lid back down with the heel of her hand. Her palm hit the dry plastic beside the crack. The lid dropped back to its old narrow gap with a sharp snap.

"Tie it," Kai said through his teeth.

Nia tied the lace before the box could knock again.

The knot was ugly. Nia looped the wet lace around itself twice, pulled until the leather belt creaked, then tucked the loose end beneath the first loop. The lace kept the buckle frame close to the handle. If the prong tore more leather, it would have to pull the lace with it.

When she let go, the lace stretched across the side of the box like a thin black line.

The lunch box moved once under the belt.

The new lace caught.

Nia stayed crouched beside it, breathing through her mouth. Her remaining boot hung open around her ankle. The bare foot had a gray smear of dust across the blood at the heel.

"The lace is holding the buckle," she said.

Kai could not see the knot from where he stood, but he saw the lid settle against the belt, still raised a fraction at one corner.

"For how long?"

Nia only shook her head. She kept one hand on the lid for another few seconds, waiting for the next pressure from inside. When it did not come, she tried to stand.

The unlaced boot folded under her heel. She caught the wall with one hand, then looked at the path back to Kai. The wall-side strip of concrete was narrower than it had seemed while she crossed it. Blue runoff had widened along the floor, leaving only broken islands of dry grit.

"Stay there," Kai said.

"I am not staying beside it when the belt fails."

"You cannot cross that with the boot loose."

"I cannot put the lace back without taking it off the box."

She pushed the boot snug against her foot with the side of the wall, then took one careful step. It held badly. The second step turned the sole sideways, and she had to catch herself before the bare foot landed in the runoff.

Kai's left hand came away from his jacket before he remembered the Archive copy. The plastic sleeve shifted under the zipper. He pressed it flat to his chest again, helplessly watching Nia balance one shoulder against the wall.

She made it back in three slow steps. By the time she reached the rail, her boot was hanging open and the bare foot was shaking hard enough to make her knee tremble.

"That is not a shoe," Kai said.

"It is not trying very hard."

The blue thread from the corner of the box kept moving. It reached the shallow lip around the floor grate, collected there, and slipped through between the bars.

Below, metal answered.

The inner grille shuddered.

The scrape came from beyond it, somewhere past the first bend. It dragged along the concrete pipe, stopped, and then started again.

Nia turned toward it.

"That was not the box," she said.

Kai looked at the crushed boot trapped under the grate. The rubber toe quivered against the iron.

The red cord pulled tight around his arm.

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