The Milkman: A Freeworld Novel Read Online Free PDF

expose his secret life. And John Raston’s. And possibly the other volunteers who risked their careers to feed him data. Security could pinpoint his car any time in the past. That must be why they were here now.
    “That’s probably around the time I was in a parking lot.”
    “Any parking lot in particular?”
    “I couldn’t say,” Emory said. “I just pulled in to get off the road.”
    “Why is that?”
    Couldn’t say a call. They’d have his records. Couldn’t say a drink. That bar wasn’t an Ambyr place. The cars were all makes from another company. He didn’t know which. He couldn’t delay any longer, either.
    “I was supposed to meet a friend. But we couldn’t decide on a place. A place that was equidistant. And I didn’t want to drive in the wrong direction any longer.”
    McCallum’s face crinkled in disbelief. Emory sensed the technique. The expression on the op’s face had been carefully chosen. A tool. A signaling device to prod Emory into further action.
    “I’m a…” Emory stammered. Fuck. “I’m a systems specialist. I can’t stand waste. Even in my personal life.”
    “So you just pulled into a random parking lot and…” McCallum trailed off, waiting for Emory to finish the thought.
    “Call,” Emory blurted. Fuckety fuck. “I waited for my buddy to call.”
    “Your buddy’s name?” McCallum flicked his sleeve back. The cloth would not have interfered with the cuff’s recording abilities. Emory understood the theatrics. Understanding it made the show no less effective.
    “John Raston,” he had to say. He couldn’t help it. He had no other choice. His brother, his sister, his friends Carl or Scott, anyone he could think of couldn’t fake their way through a call from ASS ten minutes from now. Not from this guy, who looked like he had seen everything there was to see and was slightly pissed off that you hadn’t.
    “Address?”
    “Not sure. Long Meadow’s the street. Up in Wheatfield.”
    “Great.” McCallum continued to look at Emory. Mouth closed. Emory decided to do the same. He’d ride out this silence. He would.
    “See anything?” McCallum asked.
    “In the parking lot?”
    “Yes.”
    “No,” Emory said. “Should I have?”
    McCallum shrugged his shoulders.
    “What’s this about? Did I do something wrong? Pulling into another company’s parking lot? I didn’t think that was against policy.”
    “No, Mr. Leveski. Not at all. I’d hoped you’d seen something out of the ordinary.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Thank you for your time.” McCallum stood. He poked his cuff and snatched up his coat. “I’ll tell your supervisor you were cooperative.”
    Emory sat alone in the conference room, relief passing through him like a fever. Warmth, followed by slight shaking. He sat for… he didn’t know how long. His boss let him sit. Security business trumped making sponges.

Chapter Five
     
    The little bean-like creature floated in its fluid-filled capsule, eyes wide, too curious to blink. Hands splayed and rubbery. Legs cocked, ready to leap. This tiny thing wanted to see it all and do it all just as soon as he or she could breath air on its own. Sylvia watched it on the big screen. The microphone the technician ran across her belly took in sound waves. A computer took those and modeled the creature and the capsule. Then the model rendered on a large monitor hung over the table, so she — so any mom laying here in wait, prickling with anticipation, desperate for news, barely breathing because so much of her brain’s capacity had been diverted to the 4.2 million questions at hand — could see, for the first time, the being living inside her.
    “Do you want to know?” the technician asked.
    “What?” Sylvia asked back. The question stunned her. Know what? She wanted to know everything. Was the baby healthy? A brain? Lungs? Could they foretell complications? Like… she didn’t know. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to be