Free Beat by Jared Garrett Page A

material of the door.
    A tiny spark popped in the night.
    Electricity! I needed a lot more to break the seal. I pedaled with my right arm, fighting to keep the spoke in my left hand from moving. A few more sparks lit and glimmered out, making me blink the bright light away. I fought the urge to check the door seal. I had to get this right the first time. I pedaled more, the moment of almost-stillness allowing me to think a little.
    I had to figure out what had happened. I had to find out if I was immune. Maybe I wasn’t, but then why would Bren have died and not me? If I wasn’t immune, if there was something else . . . My brain couldn’t even get past that idea. I had to be immune. Which meant I needed to see a doctor and help everyone else become immune.
    The Enforser pod—no, that was two pods now—whined louder, much closer. They were here! I dropped the pedal, gripped the spoke, and stood. I jabbed the spoke into the tiny crack between the doors, wiggling it to get it in.
    It slid in, almost with no effort. I pushed down, and it slid between the doors, easily, running down the slightly wider crack. I ran the spoke to the top of the doors and then wiggled it left and right. I ran it back down, and, leaving the spoke at about waist height between the doors, pushed at the doors, trying to get them to separate. They jerked slightly, resisted, and then slid open an inch. Frantically, I jabbed my fingers into the gap and spread the doors farther apart, shocked that this had worked.
    In less than a minute, I’d wrenched the doors wide enough apart that I could slide through. I wasted no time and forced my way into the Enjineering Dome.
    I fought back the feeling of triumph, feeling guilty about it. I had to remember why I was doing this. I stopped briefly to get my bearings, glancing around the entrance area. The light had come on as I’d entered, but it was still warming up, so it was pale and blue. I broke into a run down the short hallway that led to offices off to the right and to a door that opened up to Development 1.
    Lights high overhead flickered to life as I slid through the door. The brighter work lights above the benches stayed dark. Development 1 was basically an open lab with work and design tables, handhelds, computers, a few tool racks, and lots of rolling stools. There was an open aisle that ran straight across the room from the door I’d just come through to the door that led to Dev 2. I seriously doubted that I would find a cutting tool in Dev 1, so I just made a cursory search as I ran through the room. I saw nothing that would help me. I passed Pol’s work station. How would it be to be such a young kid and already have your own design station? From what I’d heard, the kid was a prodigy, even better than me.
    Dev 2 was laid out in a similar way, but where Dev 1 was mostly dedicated to research and design, Dev 2 was the prototype room. My new work station. Tools were everywhere. Molding machines lined most of the walls, and orange-painted poles indicated where you had to be careful not to step into a pit where vehicles were maintained. Heading straight to a rack that held cutting tools, I tossed a glance at Fil’s work station. I had a feeling I’d never shadow him again. 
    The nanocutter was right where I’d seen it earlier that day. I grabbed it, hoping I could get it to work on the Papa and not my wrist. It worked on the molecular level, using nanos to sever the bonds between molecules. You used it when you needed a really neat, precise cut. It would also cut through just about anything. The problem was that it took a while to warm up, and I wasn’t sure I could get it to work on just the strap of the Papa and not the flesh of my wrist. I switched it on and looked around while it slowly grew warm in my hand.
    Just as I was thinking that the nanocutter might be ready, I heard the siren of an Enforser pod scream by right outside the wall. I had to keep moving. They were coming. My throat