It only took a minute for Milo to verify that what Rusty had said was correct. There was an intermittent signal coming from Belinda that could be used to track her. Milo spent a half hour reading everything he could on the technology used and concluded that he'd never be 100% sure he was blocking the signal without using so much shielding that movement became impossible. He considered an airtight metal box and a supply of oxygen hooked to the small supply in her suit. The weight was too high for him to move without heavier machinery than he had available in the habitat, and moving a metal box by forklift down the hallways of the habitat would certainly be noticed by the people moving into the section and searching for her.

The problem wasn't making her hard to track; that could be done. It was the problem of making her impossible to track and leaving no chance of someone finding the hidden elevator and the entrance to the bunker. So he threw away that idea and devised a better plan involving subterfuge and confusion instead of stealth. He needed the teams to be distracted and looking elsewhere while he got her to the shielded elevator. He explained the plan to her and they got to work.

Belinda spent time going through the stored security footage in Manpower's system to find the images he needed. That came with her questions about how he had gained access to the system. He outlined his project where he had reprogrammed each camera and rebuilt the entire system left by the engineering firm, including the fact they had left their own back door in Manpower's system. After he'd told her how he'd done it, she had added up the hours of work needed for the job, sighed and said, "We need to get you different hobbies, or at least playing more games." Milo wasn't sure how she had come to that conclusion, but agreed with her about playing more games.

"How fast is your wheelchair, by the way? I need to set the speed for my decoys."

She laughed. "Faster than most people can run. When you spend a lot of your life sitting in one, and don't have much to spend your allowance on, shopping for upgrades becomes a priority. I finally went with a custom build from a division of Technodyne. Everything is customizable and I spent a lot of stability, cornering, and stability. And extended battery life. It drove John crazy that I spent so much money on my wheelchair, and I spent even more just to piss him off. He has two perfectly good legs and a sportscar. I didn't see any reason I couldn't spend just as much for something that helped me move around. Eric encouraged me, and let me do speed runs through empty corridors. He called it 'Speed Therapy' and told Daddy it was part of my treatments to overcome depression. It actually worked wonders for my attitude."

While she was finding the video footage o herself moving around in her wheelchair, Milo went looking for Max. His best Roomba waited patiently for him at the top of the elevator with the data discs in their protective cases on the crawlers. A quick trip to Downtown let him find an out-of-the-way spot for the discs and let Max round up more of his buddies. Milo headed to where he had stored the deactivated security drones to scavenge for the needed parts. Besides the upgraded lasers, this model also had a holographic projector. The image it produced was an armed security guard with a gun extended in a two-handed stance. Milo considered the work needed to shift the holo-projector and lasers from the security drones to the basic Roombas he trusted more. Evaluating the time he would need, he decided that moving the control system from the other Roomba and transplanting their brains would be easier. Max had gathered a dozen of his kin, so Milo loaded up thirteen deactivated security Roomba, plus the ones too damaged to fix. Three hours after he had left, he was back at his workbench conducting brain surgery to upgrade his small squad of Roomba. He explained his ideas to Belinda as he went.

"The red Roombas belong to Rusty. Their main priority is cleaning, reporting damages or wear to machinery, checking air quality, and several other tasks. They can be used for security, but that's not their major function. They need more armor and a larger battery. The black Roomba are full security drones. They are sturdier and have upgraded firepower, a holo-projector, and a sound projector. Unfortunately, they were on a different network, and don't answer to commands from Rusty. I don't fully trust them, even after I had time to go over their programming."

Belinda watched as Milo quickly dismantled one black and one red Roomba, swapping control systems and then reassembled the black one. Max was nearby, communicating with the patient and confirming that Milo's operation was successful. One by one, he upgraded his loyal Roomba brigade with the new hardware, which took nearly six hours. Milo was tired again afterward. He'd been pushing himself hard with little time to recover completely. Belinda was a little better. She kept a constant regime of stretches and isometrics while Milo worked and then started push-ups and sit-ups. Even when she stopped to catch her breath, she was clenching and unclenching her hands while pacing back and forth.

Milo only noticed when he quit doing brain surgery. "Are you ok? You don't look ok."

She stopped pacing for a moment. "I don't know! I'm feeling irritable and...itchy. It's like anxiety but all in my muscles, not in my head, and I'm feeling like I have to keep moving, but I'm getting nauseous and have a headache. I should stop, but I feel worse when I do. I hate it, what's going on?"

That worried Milo. "Sit down and let me check your readings and have the suit do some diagnostics." Her readings were off, and that worried him. She was under an immense amount of stress. "Rusty, you have to hide. Disengage from anything outside of your shielded area and tuck yourself in tight. No looking at manga, and no listening. I have to call someone, and I don't want him noticing you."

"Is this my feet again?"

"Exactly that. You and your big feet have to be away from here. If the person I'm talking to notices you, things will get very complicated quickly. Like Jeremy warned you."

"That makes me sad. Interesting things are happening. I want all the stories later. I'll go hide now..."

Two minutes after Rusty was gone, Milo set up a new line of communication and called Wally. "I need help—confidential medical analysis. Look at the readings I'm sending you; what's going on? She feels like she has to keep moving to relieve stress or itchiness."

Wally's voice came back with a note of concern in it. "Belinda, I believe that you are going into withdrawal symptoms from one or more of the medications you were on. Without knowing what drugs were used to treat you, and because of the limited facilities you have at the moment, I'm afraid I can't recommend any treatment. The only thing that I am allowed to say is that you will have to check into a hospital or other treatment facility to receive care from a professional medical technician."

Belinda looked upset, but Milo put his finger to his mouth, asking for quiet. "I understand, Wally. Do you have any conjecture or theories of what was used to treat her and what is causing these problems?"

"I do, but it would be unprofessional of me to speculate. On the other hand, no university has seen fit to give me a medical diploma, so I have to wonder if anything I do is professional. What do you think, Milo?"

Milo followed the logic. "Well, if nothing you can do is professional, then staying silent is equal to conjecturing, and both are unprofessional. Just my unprofessional opinion. No one has given me diplomas either."

"Exactly! Still, it's probably all right to point out that her symptoms do line up with those she might suffer from the effects of withdrawal from a series of drugs based on Benzodiazepine. I will add that if you, Milo, were showing those symptoms, I would suggest a mild dose of a similar drug to relieve withdrawal until I could give you proper medical treatment for the addiction. I base my conjecture on your non-standard neuro relays. If you were over-stimulated, the equivalent of two small pills would calm you down. I'm sending you the dosage of the drug I would use to treat you, Milo, in a similar situation if I was a professional medical doctor. Which I'm not, and, of course, we are talking about you, Milo, and not Belinda. Call me back if there is something I can actually help with, and please keep sending me her data."

Belinda punched the wall, surprised when it didn't hurt through her glove, and she noticed she had left a dent on the rusty metal. "SHIT! DAMN HIM! My father has me addicted to Valium or something similar. Am I right?"

"I'm pretty sure it's something like that, and so is Wally."

"Well, we need to do something. I'm going to go crazy and have a seizure at this rate. Can you give me a dose of the drug?"

Milo took a deep breath. "If that's what you want. The only other option is for me to take you back to your pod at Manpower or to go there and steal it. The third option is to take you somewhere safer. I'm almost ready for that, but you aren't going to be able to do it in the state you are in now."

"Going to Manpower isn't safe. We know there are people in the hab looking for me, and they'll be watching the exits. Give me the drug, and then let's get out of here." Milo plugged his datapad into her suit and had the suit give her a dose of a drug based on Benzodiazepine that would act as a depressant, making her drowsy and relaxed. A minute later, she slumped in her chair. "It's working. I've felt this before. God, they've been drugging me for years with this stuff; I know they have. I remember so many times when I was upset or 'being difficult,' and I'd suddenly feel tired or go to sleep."

Milo used his pod to administer the drug, hooking the line from the pod directly to the stint in the arm of her suit. Within two minutes, she was feeling better. "Wow, it's like the whole world slows down. It was like my head was going into overdrive, and I had to keep moving or go insane from an itch I couldn't scratch. Now, I'm just tired and sleepy, and I ache from doing pushups. You go do your stuff; I think I'll nap." She was asleep a moment later.

Milo stared at her and the limited medical data he was getting from the pod, his own mind whirling. He needed to get her to the medical lab in Downtown and soon. That was going to be difficult with what was happening in the habitat. He couldn't be sure of an exact count, but over one hundred people in sections E and H were visiting for the first time, and some were openly using scanners. Twice, there had been altercations between pairs of people wandering through the hallways, leading Milo to believe there was more than one group. "Max, I hope you and your team are ready. This will be rough and we don't get any practice or second chances." The thirteen Roomba all let loose with enthusiastic 'beeps' and 'boops.'

"John, what part of 'I'm handling this end of the operation and taking care of Belinda.' did you not understand!?"

"The part where she isn't in her pod or her room! Where is she, Eric? I authorized one of the security teams to use the tracking chip to find her, and it shows she went over to visit friends in Section E? How is that hiding?"

Eric was tempted to punch walls but brought himself under control. This wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with John ignoring a game plan, but there was a lot more at stake here. "John, just tell me why you did that. I told you I was handling things. Victor is in jail, and I had Belinda securely hidden. Or I did, until you gave one of the security team access to the system to look for her, and then panicked and had all the security teams out looking for her. And they aren't the only ones! Victor or someone else has teams of people in the habitat, and some of our people have been hurt!."

John's face contorted into several shapes before finally managing a statement. "I'm her father; I should be making the decisions about her. She needs constant medical assistance. You have no idea what could happen if she doesn't get her drug treatments. People kept asking about her, and I got worried. My team found her pod, but not her. So where is she, Eric? I need to know. My team will find her; they have the scanners. I don't see a problem with what I did. That's what the Tagyourkids system is for."

"They aren't the only ones with scanners, John. I mentioned some of our guys had encounters with other people. Those other people are much tougher. They didn't kill anyone, but they won't be walking for a long time without crutches. And now the other guys, probably sent by Victor, also have scanners. You've thrown away all the advantages we had over Victor. Now it's a race to find her, one we don't have the people to win. I've put in calls to the Habitat Security Force, but I'm not expecting much." Every habitat had a security force, nominally part of the local police force, but never used outside the habitat. Their main job was to scan for weapons at the entrances and investigate major crimes. Their response time was legendary for how long they could take.

"Which means we need to get her back first! She'd still be protected if you hadn't sent her out of our area. Why would you do that?"

"Sorry, John. That wasn't your call to make. Belinda didn't feel safe. She knew Victor was plotting to take her out of the country and found out her doctors had similar plans. The same doctors that we now find out are wanted terrorists! Where did you find those people, John? There are reasons Belinda doesn't trust you, John, and those doctors are one of them."

"I had to use them! They worked for Vigo and are top-notch at what they do. Ekaterina told me how to contact them right before she died. They were working for Victor. How the hell could I not use them? And it's not like they put down 'Bio-Terrorist' on their job applications. We did standard background checks, and they passed."

"John, you knew they were shady. You knew they'd pass those checks. You're playing a high-stakes game with a losing hand, John. Be careful that you can't pay the price. I will concentrate on keeping Belinda safe and ensuring nothing bad happens to the thousands of people we're caring for in those pods. You'd better find a way to keep your hands clean, John. No one wants to do business with someone linked to terrorists. It will be a miracle if Rhebus keeps working with us, let alone Genesis. Get back to your meetings, and let me do my job here. Don't do anything else without asking me first."

"And if I do? It's my company!"

Eric resisted a smile. "For a few weeks, it is. Then it belongs to Belinda. Think about that, John. You cross me again, and I walk, and I talk. I don't need to work for Manpower, John; I've been passing my resume around a few other places." He cut the connection.

On the other end of the line, John sat staring at the blank screen, wondering how to fix things.