Chapter 32 Kane
KANE
KANE SENSED ZARIA BEHIND HIM, BUT HE DIDN’T DARE TURN around. Even if he had, he doubted he would have been able to see her. His attention was on his hands as he struggled to insert the parautoptic key for the third time.
“This isn’t working,” he hissed, panic making him dizzy. He didn’t understand what was happening; normally, he was calm and collected while committing a theft. It was crucial to keep yourself grounded. This time, however, he was starting to feel as though he might pass out.
Zaria’s body was suddenly flush against his back, her hair brushing his cheek as she leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
Her voice was laced with urgency, though it sounded slightly muffled. Kane didn’t look up at her—his gaze had started to swim, and the last thing he wanted was for Zaria to notice something was wrong.
“The key isn’t working. You said it was supposed to adjust to fit the lock, right? Well, I’ve inserted it three times now, and nothing’s happening.”
There was a beat of silence that felt like an eternity. “But—that can’t be,” Zaria whispered, audibly shaken. “I created so many iterations, and this one is supposed to work. When it’s in an enclosed metal space, the bits are meant to rearrange themselves to align with the levers.”
“That’s all very well, but that doesn’t seem to be the case!” He inserted the key again. It rattled uselessly, and only then did he realize the problem. “There are more than fifteen levers.”
“You said fifteen was the maximum, so I only created fifteen bits!”
It was true. It was supposed to be true. Kane swiped an unsteady hand across his brow. “This is impossible.”
Zaria loosed an unsteady breath, and only then did Kane glance up to see a flash of white. Was she wearing some sort of scarf? He narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. He wasn’t thinking straight. What mattered was that they needed to get this lock open.
“You’ll need to arrange the bits yourself, then,” Zaria said firmly. There was a rustling of fabric, and the next moment she had thrust what looked like a delicate pair of spectacles in front of Kane’s face.
“What the hell are these?”
“Magnispecs. Put them on and use them to look into the keyhole. They’re powerful enough that you should be able to see the levers inside. Once you know the arrangement, you can pick the lock the regular way. I assume you’re capable of it.”
Kane held the strange spectacles up to his eyes, feeling like a fool. It was difficult to see much of anything at all, but he pressed them against the keyhole as she’d suggested, waving her away with his free hand. “Leave this to me. Go check on our escape route.”
He felt Zaria move away, which he took as assent.
He didn’t quite understand the mechanics of the atomizing adhesive, but he had to believe it would work.
He’d timed everything around the moment when the device would apparently cause the glass wall panel to disintegrate, the pieces tiny enough that it would look as though nothing had ever been there at all.
Once they escaped with the necklace, Fletcher would ensure any officers stationed at the exterior wouldn’t interfere.
The smoke would spill outside, and they could blend into the evacuated crowd, no one the wiser.
Kane’s hands were sweating. His vision didn’t seem to want to focus as he squinted through the magnispecs, trying to make out the levers inside the lock.
Zaria was right: The magnispecs were inconceivably efficient.
He adjusted them using the dial on one side.
At the very least, the levers were somewhat visible.
He counted quickly once, then again. There were sixteen bits.
His heart thudded in his ears, seeming to echo strangely.
Now the trouble lay in working out how they corresponded to the key he held.
If he was correct, the first two bits of the parautoptic key needed to be quite short.
With shaking hands, Kane removed each of the key bits, trying desperately not to let them fall to the floor.
His dexterity was off, but he plugged two of the metal pieces back in, then pressed his eye back to the keyhole.
A long bit next, then another short. Two medium-size ones of nearly the same length.
He had no idea how much time was passing.
It could have been seconds or hours. His hands itched to check his pocket watch.
At one point, he realized in horror that he was out of short bits and had to start all over again.
Finally, however, he had an arrangement that made sense.
The lock couldn’t possibly require another combination.
“Kane.”
Zaria’s voice seemed to emanate from somewhere far away. Kane felt as though his ears were stuffed with wool.
“Kane, the smoke will lift soon.”
Her steps neared, and Kane inserted the key.
Only then did he procure his smallest pick, inserting it so that it pressed against the sixteenth lever.
Darkness crowded the edges of his vision.
He might have been looking through something small and tube shaped.
But he forced his body to stay upright, maintaining his grip on the key and lever as he turned them simultaneously.
The lock clicked.
Zaria’s face swam into view at the narrowed apex of his vision. It was a scarf, Kane saw—or, rather, some kind of handkerchief. His thoughts were hazy, strings of logic coalescing as slowly as if they were being dragged through molasses. Horror dawned, acute and sobering, followed by realization.
Then rage.
She saw it, that rage, and something flickered in the depths of her gaze. “Kane—”
“Zaria,” Kane spat.
It was all he said before he crumpled to the ground.