Read Online Shepherd by KH LeMoyne - Free Book Online

every bit the pirate from the old stories across the net. Books had died with the reduction of the population after the virus outbreak. However, in the places of harshest conditions, like Down Below, stories and fables persisted. Esme absorbed every one. The images in her mind were as real as the words inspiring the tales.
    “Let’s test your theory.” He spun the command pad, launched a new screen, and executed a series of orders with blinding speed. She didn’t catch much of what he’d done, but the word KARMA and a sequence of security levels, all restricted, gave her a clue as to his intent.
    “Can—”
    “Save overlay to all users. Provision security check on User ID Karma.” He turned her back toward his main control desk and shifted behind her, palming her head. “Hold still for the retinal scan. I’ll keep you from jerking.”
    “I can do this myself.”
    “Work with me, Esme.”
    With a sigh, she allowed him to angle her head to face the crystal tabletop. Several lights blinked with the activation of a circular outline beside a rectangular one on the tabletop. He posed her face over the circle and moved her palm to the rectangle.
    “Twenty seconds.”
    “Got it.”
    “No talking.”
    The flash of light made her eyes water, but she focused on fighting the blink reflex. Surprisingly, the hard press of his body behind her and the warmth of his palms on the sides of her head helped her float through the few seconds. He released her the second the light disappeared. Her sense of comfort evaporated with his absence.
    “So I can research and help?”
    “You can quietly search inside my domain and offer suggestions.”
    “Those two contradict each other.”
    He shook his head and motioned for her to scoot her chair away. Resigned, she moved as directed, projecting a passive acceptance as she scrutinized the several live screens on the wall. One monitored the edge of the Down Below marketplace. Another focused on the lockdown facility Clay had been evaluating. Several others depicted images from above the grid and below.
    The final screen swept a circuit around the exterior of Clay’s building. The deep shadows of the girders and the foreboding pile of concrete lent the perfect impression of a demolished and nonfunctional space. No one would guess the brewery ran for several levels below ground and one hundred feet in all directions. She glanced back at the map, where she had drawn her intersections. The New Delphi grid wouldn’t reflect the Down Below potential.
    “Are there any maps predating New Delphi for this section of the grid?”
    He glanced at her. She moved to key in her request on his console when he shifted farther away with a frown. Despite his distant attitude, he raised a list of surface maps—all dated within the last hundred and fifty years. As he flicked open each one for her perusal, she noted none reflected his current base.
    “How did you find this place?”
    Frown still furrowed between his brows, he closed the maps and turned his focus on another incoming message. “I was scouting for places and fell through some timbers at the edge of the construction.” He punched up two images, one of rotted wood supported by metal beams and concrete. The other revealed more rotted wooden walls and flooring, along with dozens of stacked circular metal canisters.
    “Can you enlarge that last one?”
    In spite of her interruption to his process, he brought the image into focus. She knew he had thrown her a temporary distraction, like a toy, to keep her safely occupied on her own. Yet he treated her requests with respect.
    “Those are the brewery’s kegs,” he said.
    Tilting her head, she evaluated them again. “Empty?”
    “Every last one. They predate the outbreak by about forty years.”
    “So they don’t hold any contagion.”
    “No. I ran scans early on.”
    He turned back to his work, bringing the lockdown into closer focus, initiating a sub screen with data related to the