'I think so.'
'But - we're way off, right? Look, I think we're not even on campus ... no, wait, we are ...' The girl's anxiety teetered on the edge of panic, and there wasn't much Claire could do to help. She checked her phone, supposedly to look at the GPS, but quite honestly, she was checking to see if she'd gotten any messages.
She had. Voicemail from Michael. Again. She'd skipped listening to the last three because she was hoping Shane's name would pop up ... but just as she started to stow the phone away, she saw a text pop up.
It was still Michael ... but it said, This is Shane hit me back.
What?
Claire lagged behind a little, texting back - risky to do on unfamiliar ground, in the dark, but this couldn't wait. Y R U on Michael's phone?
A few seconds, and the text came back. Broke mine sry.
It sounded like an excuse. A bad one. But accidents did happen. Was waiting, she texted back. Saw vid.
No answer for a long moment, and then he typed back, I meant it. That was all. Just that.
And she stopped walking, closed her eyes for a moment, and pulled in a deep, chilly breath. Then she texted, Miss U.
He responded, Luv U.
Her eyes stung with tears, and she hesitated for a long second before she texted back, Ttys. Talk to you soon.
'Hey!'
Claire jerked her head up at the urgent whisper from a few feet away, instincts coming alive and screaming, but it was just the girl, the nervous one, still clutching all her brochures and maps and binders. She looked even more paranoid than before. What was her name, anyway? Started with a V. Vita? No, Viva. 'Viva,' she said, and the girl nodded. 'What's wrong?'
'We're supposed to be going to Baker House,' she said. 'But it's not on the map!'
'Well, it's supposed to be a secret tour,' Claire said. 'So maybe it's called something else on the map.'
'But-' Viva shifted uneasily. 'I just - I just want to go back. Would you share a cab with me? Please? We can get one on the street up there.'
The rest of the group was walking briskly on, heading through some trees, and they were being left behind. Well, that didn't seem like a good idea under any circumstances.
Claire put her phone away, shifted the weight of her backpack (which wasn't much, at least not now - a tablet computer, a couple of books she was interested in, and the load of goodies from orientation. She wasn't used to it being so light). 'Let's just catch up,' she said. 'Come on. We can't bug out now, they'll worry about us.' And she jogged onward, looking back to be sure Viva was coming. She was, probably only because she didn't want to be left alone.
Claire was definitely not interested in going back to the house ahead of schedule. Liz had moped about her going to orientation, had fussed about when she'd be back, and then sulked about the fact Claire expected to be gone until late. The drama had been intense. No reason to add to it by coming home off schedule ... that would probably lead to a theatrical scene about how Liz's plans had been spoilt because Claire didn't do what she said.
Two days in and I already hate living there, Claire thought. Probably not a good sign. But she'd hated Morganville at first, and now ... now she really missed it.
And Shane. God, she missed Shane so much. She missed Eve and Michael, and (probably stupidly) Myrnin, too. She'd spent the day providing the mental running commentary from her friends and boyfriend, and from Myrnin when she spotted something excessively and geekily cool. It was getting easier and easier to summon up a mental replica of Myrnin in her head. That was probably worrying.
Cambridge was so busy. Even this late, there were loads of cars zipping around, planes crossing the starless, light-washed sky, crowds gathering for mysterious and unknown reasons around shops or parks. The Morganville in her wanted to tell them all to go home and be safe, but she knew that was verging on crazy. The world these laughing people lived in was a very different place.
She was in a very different place.
The raggle-taggle group of students that their tour guides were leading came to a sudden halt, because in the clearing ahead there was a big group already gathered. There was no apparent purpose to it - just people gathered, talking, some sitting and reading, some playing games, a few paired-off couples so into each other it didn't matter others existed at all. As Claire caught up (and a breathless Viva caught up with her), the entire group came to a stop halfway inside of the crowd, and their guide held up his hand.
'Hang on,' he told them. 'We're really close, I just have to check something. Stay here. Oh, and remember what I told you if security shows up. Don't tell them my name, and don't tell them where you're going.'
Viva held up her hand. 'Um, Jack? I can't find Baker House on my map ...'
'Just a second,' he said, but his words were lost in a sudden chorus of phones buzzing, beeping and pinging. People around them fumbled for their devices, and Claire checked hers out of habit. Nothing.
But the people around them whooped, cheered, high-fived and ... began to dance. All their phones were blaring out a song Claire recognised. Most of them had some kind of glow-in-the-dark things that they pulled from their pockets, and within seconds it was a full-on instant rave.
Their little group was an island of clueless in a sea of moving, jumping bodies ... and suddenly, she didn't see their tour guides anywhere. They'd just melted into the crowd. Gone.
Viva's eyes were huge, and she was clutching all her official MIT loot to her chest as if someone might want to rip off her maps and binders. She crowded closer to Claire as a guy with huge holes in his ears and a shaved head began kangaroo-jumping around near them. The noise was deafening.
Claire spotted the campus security uniforms approaching, and pointed, and Viva gasped and looked as if she might faint. 'Jack!' she yelled, and turned in a circle, staring wildly. 'Jack, they're coming! Jack!'
But their tour guide was nowhere to be seen, and now, as more campus security descended, the flash-rave broke up and students began scrambling away in a hundred directions ... leaving their little tour group frozen and stunned.
There was no sign of their guide anywhere.
Claire, whose survival instincts were a lot more finely honed, had been prepared to cut out, but Viva's shaking hand on her arm prevented her from following the upperclass students, and before she could get Viva to flee with her, it was too late. There were three security guards flanking them, frowning and looking very serious.
'Okay, you know this area's off limits,' one of them said. 'Names!'
There was a confused babble of voices, and he cut them off with an impatient gesture and pointed to Claire.
'Claire Danvers,' she said. 'But we were taking a tour. We didn't know it was off limits.'
'Likely story, Miss Danvers. If you were on a tour, where's your guide?'
'Um ...' Viva held up her hand. 'He left? I'm Viva Adewah.'
He made notes. 'Uh huh. Name of the guide, for the records?'
'Um, I don't know. He took off and left us here!'
The three security men exchanged a look, and the centre one made another official-looking note in his book. 'And where were you headed?'
He got a shifty look and mutters from all of their fellow abandoned group, and Claire sighed. 'Baker House,' she said. 'Which isn't real, right? And Jack Florey's not a real person?'
'Opinions are divided,' the cop said, and put his notebook away. 'It's the Orange Tour, by the way. Long tradition. Sometimes they let us hassle you. Guess this was your lucky night. You're all from Fifth East?'
'How did you know?' Viva asked.
'Because if you weren't, you'd have a different guide. Head that way. You'll get back on track quickly. Stay together. No wandering off on your own. And congratulations. You're part of the history now - you've survived an Orange Tour. Now, don't let us ever catch you hacking.'
A hack, in MIT jargon, meant a real-world mod ... like the most recent one, which had been to turn the Earth Sciences building into a giant Tetris game with coloured interior lights. Hacks didn't destroy, they just ... creatively amended. But Jack Florey had given them the rules of hacks, too - and they sounded remarkably like the rules of surviving Morganville. No stealing. No destroying property. And never hack alone.
Odds were, most people on this tour would, at some point, be involved in a hack, or at least see a really good one.
But probably not her, Claire reflected, with another little burst of regret. She wasn't here to be a freshman; she was here to study with Professor Anderson, on a Morganville-approved study course, and Amelie wasn't likely to be in favour of anything that wasn't strictly on the curriculum.
Escorted by the watchful eyes of campus security, they trudged back toward the centre of campus, where the dome of the Maclaurin Building dominated the landscape. Viva was still sticking close to Claire's elbow. She looked small, and lost; the others in the group were laughing and happy, glowing with adventure and excitement. They seemed born to be here.