Javier frowned, but said nothing more.
Let’s bring you out now, Monroe said. If you’re ready.
“I’m ready,” Owen said.
“Me too,” Javier said.
The Memory Corridor vanished, replaced by the black shield of the helmet’s visor. Owen pulled it off, blinking against the lights of Monroe’s warehouse hideout. He sat up with the stiffness of a long nap and looked over at Javier, who was getting out of his chair. Sean, Natalya, and Grace still seemed to be in the Animus. Monroe sat at a computer terminal in the middle of them, watching multiple computer monitors that seemed to be feeding him images and information from the simulations. Javier stepped over to him to look at the screens.
“What are they doing?” he asked.
“Heading to the ferry,” Monroe said.
“Where’s David?” Owen asked.
Monroe looked up, and nodded toward the circle of couches over in the next island of light, across the room. “He’s there.”
Owen turned and saw David on one of the sofas, hunched down low enough to bend at the neck. So Owen left Javier and Monroe and went to sit by him. David was staring straight ahead, along his chest where his glasses rested, his face empty of emotion. But his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying.
“That was brutal,” Owen said.
David didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry, man. I wish that didn’t happen.”
Still, David said nothing. He hadn’t even acknowledged Owen was there, and after several minutes of awkward silence passed, Owen was about to get up and go back to the others.
“But it did happen.” David put his glasses back on. “That is exactly what happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Did it hurt?”
“Of course it hurt,” David said, burying his shoulders in the cushions as he pushed himself upright. “What do you think?”
“Sorry, man.” Owen held up his hands. “I was just asking.”
David looked over at the Animus station. “But that wasn’t even the worst part.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when they were beating me, and kicking me, I felt it, kind of. But the thing I kept thinking about was my daughter. That’s so weird to say. My daughter. I didn’t know where she was or if she was hurt or anything, and I knew I was going to die and I couldn’t do anything more to help her … That was the worst part.”
“Wow.” Owen’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s like … But at least you don’t have to worry about her anymore, right? I mean, she became an Assassin.”
“Yeah, Monroe told me. That might make you feel better, but that would make Abraham feel worse.”
“Really? Why?”
“That’s not where he’d want her soul to live.”
“What?”
David just shook his head. “Never mind. It’s too complicated.”
Owen sat back and looked at the kid in front of him, and he realized something had changed, and it wasn’t that David was just upset. The Animus had changed him. David had gone into the simulation seeming pretty young, and maybe even naive, but it was as though he’d grown years in the last couple of hours.
“Guys.” Javier waved them over. “Sean and Natalya are coming out.”
“What about my sister?” David asked.
“Not yet,” Monroe said.
Owen got up and walked over, but David stayed on the couch. By the time Owen reached the Animus station, Natalya had her helmet off, her hair matted against her head, and was rubbing her eyes. Sean was looking at her, and it was pretty obvious to Owen that he liked her. He just wasn’t sure whether their simulation had anything to do with that. They had been together when they brought David to the Grand Master’s townhouse.
“How’re you guys doing?” Javier asked.
“I’m fine,” Natalya said. “I think.”
“Me too,” Sean said, examining his side. Then he went to stand up, but his legs crumpled and he fell hard, banging into the machinery and wires on his way down, and ended up sprawled out on the ground.
Owen bent to help him. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah,” Sean said, really quietly, his face red. “I’m fine.”
“You need help?” Owen asked.
“No, I got it,” Sean said. He stretched for his wheelchair, snagged the footplate with the tips of his fingers, and pulled it closer until he was able to pull himself up into it. “I forgot,” he said with a downcast smile.
“I imagine that would be easy to do,” Javier said. “After the Animus.”
“Especially when you think about who your ancestor was,” Monroe said.
“Yeah.” Sean nodded, but his shoulders slumped a little. “You’re right.”
“When does Grace come out?” Owen asked. He wanted to talk to her. With the time they’d spent together in the simulation, he felt somewhat close to her, even though they hardly knew each other.
“She’s on her own now,” Monroe said. “We ran out the Concordance for this particular memory, which is why you’re all out here. But her ancestor has the Piece of Eden, and Grace is following it to the end.” He spun around in his office chair to face them. “While we wait, I want to talk to all of you.”
Owen and the others took up places around the recliners, some sitting, some standing.
“David, would you come over here?” Monroe called, and as David walked over, Monroe tucked his hair behind his ears, leaned back in his seat, and folded his arms. “There is something I need for all of you to know, and I mean know it like you know gravity.”
“What’s that?” Javier asked.
“You. Are. You,” he said. “That’s your center. That’s the truth you fall back on, the truth you can’t escape.”
“Who else would we be?” Sean asked.
“Use of the Animus can have side effects,” Monroe said. “They’re called Bleeding Effects.”
“Bleeding?” David said. “What do you mean, bleeding? Like out our ears or something?”
“No,” Monroe said. “Not blood blood. Transfer. Certain aspects of the Animus bleed over into the real world. Into you. Well, they’re already in you, in your DNA. It’s more like the Animus switches your DNA from genotype to phenotype.”
“What does that mean?” David asked.
Javier answered him. “Your genotype is all the code you’re carrying around, right? All of it, even the stuff we don’t see, the recessive stuff. Your phenotype is what we see. It’s the reason Sean has blue eyes and Natalya is short.”
“That’s right,” Monroe said. “We all have genes that are turned off. The Animus can turn them on.”
“Like what?” Owen asked.
“Well.” Monroe linked his hands behind his head. “If your Assassin ancestors developed Eagle Vision, you might find that you have Eagle Vision now.”
“What’s Eagle Vision?” David asked.
“It’s like heightened awareness,” Owen said, and then he looked at Grace, still lying there with a visored helmet over her head. “She has it.”
“But there are other Bleeding Effects, too,” Monroe said. “Mental effects. Behavioral effects. You might find you have new abilities you didn’t have before, if your ancestor had those abilities. You might get confused sometimes about what’s real. What’s your memory and what’s your ancestor’s. You might have flashbacks.”
“You’re telling us this now?” Javier said, adjusting his stance.
“Would it have changed your decision?” Monroe said.
It wouldn’t have changed Owen’s choice, and looking around the room, he didn’t think anyone else would go back and do it differently, either.
“So like I said”—Monroe looked at each of them—“You. Are. You. You aren’t your ancestor, and who they were doesn’t mean anything about who you are. If they were an Assassin, so what? If they were a Templar, who cares? You take your own path, by your own choices. You’re not a hostage to your DNA. Okay?”
They all nodded, some with
less enthusiasm than others. Owen didn’t quite accept what Monroe was saying. In the Animus, it had meant something important to Varius to do what his father had done and to follow in that legacy. It brought Varius pride and a sense of purpose. Would Monroe take that from him?
Monroe glanced back at his computer terminal, scanning the monitors. “I think the memory is ending,” he said, pulling on a headset with a microphone. “I’m going to load the Memory Corridor. Why don’t you all go over to the couches? This will take a few minutes.”
They did what he asked, and ambled over to sit down together. Owen and Javier ended up on opposite ends of the same sofa. Natalya took one of the armchairs, and Sean wheeled his chair up next to her. David had the other couch to himself. No one spoke for a few minutes, until Natalya sighed.
“I’ve got to get home,” she said. “My parents are going to freak out.”
“Mine, too,” Sean said. “They worry about me a lot more since the accident.”
“When did it happen?” Javier asked.
Owen had wondered about that, too.
“A couple years ago,” Sean said. “Drunk driver.”
Owen turned to David. “What about your parents?”
“My dad will be pretty upset if he finds out. But the first thing he’ll ask is if Grace was with me. Then he’ll blame it all on her. My mom will just go along with whatever he says.”
“What if Grace wasn’t with you?” Owen asked.
David shrugged. “I never really get in trouble.”
“Well,” Javier said, “my mom will freak out. My dad will be disappointed in me.”
“Which would you rather have?” Sean asked.
Owen wished he still had his dad to disappoint.
Javier shook his head. “I don’t know. They’re both bad.”
“My mom and my grandparents will just think I ran away,” Owen said. “I think they’ve been expecting me to for a while.”
“Hey, guys,” Monroe called. “Grace is out.”
They rose from their seats, David more quickly than the rest, and hurried over to the Animus station. Monroe was just helping Grace get her helmet off when David walked up and threw his arms around her. It looked as if he was crying a little, and Owen caught a glimpse of the younger boy he’d seen before the experience in the Animus. Grace closed her eyes and hugged him back.
“Hush, I’m okay,” she said to him. “It’s okay.”
David held on for another moment, and then he nodded against her and stepped back, wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand.
“What did you see?” Monroe asked her.
“I saw the Civil War,” she said, her eyes wide and seeming to contain the reflections of things beyond what was in the room. “I even fought in it.”
“And did you see what happened to the Piece of Eden?” Monroe asked.
Grace nodded and swallowed. “I carried it all the way to Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River. I found General Grant, and I gave it to him. He recognized it from the Aztec Club. By that time, I had figured out how to use it. It helped me through some tough spots while I was bringing it to him, actually. So I was able to show him how it worked. Well, not completely. But enough that I think he got that it was more than a souvenir from Mexico.”
“So what happened after that?” David asked.
Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. The memory ended once I handed it over.”
“What happened after that,” Monroe said, “is that Lincoln made Grant the general of all the Union Armies, and Grant won the war, and eventually he was elected president for two terms. I think it’s safe to say he kept the Piece of Eden with him during that time, and maybe until his death.”
“Where did he die?” Natalya asked.
“After he learned he had throat cancer,” Monroe said, “he moved from New York City to a cottage on Mount McGregor to write his memoirs. That’s where he died. The cottage is still there, kind of a museum.”
“So is that where the dagger is?” Javier asked. “Seriously? You couldn’t have just guessed that?”
“Perhaps we could have,” Monroe said. “But the dagger could also have been any number of places, and now we have a pretty good idea where to look. I can’t thank you all enough for what you’ve done to help me. You trusted me, and that means a lot. I won’t let you down. I promise when this is all over, you’ll be safe.”
“So we can go?” Natalya asked.
“Yes,” Monroe said. “Yes, definitely. I’ll drive you all in the bus.” He bent over, threw a couple of levers, and lifted what looked like a heavy cpu out of the Animus.
“What’s that?” Javier asked.
“The Animus core,” Monroe said. “I try not to let it out of my sight. Come on, let’s go.”
So that was the end of it. They all moved as a group from the room, out into the hallway, and then back to the main warehouse where Monroe had parked his bus and his motorcycle. Owen and Javier helped Sean down the stairs in his wheelchair, and then they all headed toward the bus.
Aside from Javier, Owen wondered if he would see any of them again. They really were strangers. He didn’t even know what schools they went to. And yet, they didn’t feel like strangers, which was probably one of those Bleeding Effects that Monroe had talked about.
“All right,” Monroe said, his keys jangling as he opened the side door and set the Animus core inside. “I think we’ll drop off Natalya first—”
The windows overhead exploded inward, raining glass, and figures dressed in black swarmed in, dropping down on them from above on razor-thin lines of rope.
“Templar agents!” Monroe shouted. “Run!”
Javier ducked toward the bus as the agents reached the floor of the warehouse. The others had all scattered haphazardly, but Javier noticed Owen running toward Monroe’s motorcycle. Suddenly, the bus engine rumbled, Monroe behind the wheel. Javier stepped away from the vehicle as it lurched forward, moving toward the warehouse’s roller door.
“Javier!” Owen shouted, climbing onto the bike. “Get on!”
The Abstergo agents had fanned out through the room. There were a dozen of them at least. They already had Sean, who couldn’t escape from them. And just then, one of them fired a Taser at David, and Grace screamed. As her brother fell twitching to the ground, she threw herself at the agent, but Javier didn’t see what happened to her.
He sensed someone coming up on him and spun around as an agent fired a Taser at him. But he whipped to the side and dodged the probes, a reflexive move that surprised him. When the agent threw the Taser gun to the side and came at him, Javier went hand to hand, blocking and punching, holding his own. But the agent wore some kind of black paramilitary armor that prevented Javier from doing much damage.
A deafening cymbal crash echoed through the warehouse as Monroe plowed his bus through the roller door, ripping it down and creating an opening.
“Javier, now!” Owen shouted, holding out a helmet.
Javier laid a final elbow jab in the agent’s throat and raced over to the motorcycle. “You have the key?” he asked as he got behind Owen and put his helmet on.
Owen didn’t answer, but the engine started, and the bike launched forward.
Abstergo agents raced to stop them from both sides, firing Tasers at them and missing. A few of them even put themselves in the bike’s path, but Owen veered around them, and a moment later they shot out of the warehouse into the street. Away to the right, they saw Monroe’s bus speeding off.
“Go the other way,” Javier said. He figured it was better to separate, and it was also likely the agents would have an easier time of it running down an old vintage bus, and he wanted to be far away when Monroe got caught.
Owen gunned it, and the bike ripped along the waterfront, speeding past other warehouses and buildings, the sun about to come up.
“Are they following us?” Owen shouted.
Javier looked back and saw a couple of black sedans racing after them. “Two cars,” Javier shouted.
“We gotta lose them.”
Owen nodded and throttled the bike. They sped up, but Javier didn’t think speed alone would let them escape. He scanned the road ahead, squinting in the blinding wind, and spotted a narrow alleyway.
“There!” he said, pointing. “They won’t fit!”
Owen slowed just enough that he could make the turn, and dove into the alley. The corridor was almost too narrow for them. The bike’s handlebars nearly scraped the walls, which would have crashed them. Owen drove them as fast as they could go without wrecking. When they came out the other side, there weren’t any black cars in sight, just delivery vans and other vehicles parked among the warehouses.
“Which way now?” Owen asked.
They couldn’t go home, or they’d just bring the agents with them. They didn’t really have any place they could go. “Just get out of the city,” Javier said. “Maybe we can hide in the hills.”
Owen steered the bike out of the waterfront docks and got them on the freeway, taking the northbound on-ramp, and, before long, they’d put the agents far behind them. They didn’t say anything more until they’d driven beyond the city center and through a band of suburban neighborhoods. Then the pavement ended and they hit the bumpy, rutted dirt roads that led them up into the hills.
“These helmets have some pretty serious tech,” Owen said. “But I don’t know how to work it.”
“Just find a place with some trees,” Javier said.
The sun had crested the tallest of the rounded peaks before they finally pulled off the road and parked in the shade of a large sycamore, near a thick stand of sumac. Someone had rolled some stones together for a fire pit, and the blackened rocks surrounded a pile of ashes and scorched beer cans.
Javier pulled his helmet off, and so did Owen.
“What now?” Owen asked.
Javier had no idea. Going into the simulation was supposed to make them safe from this kind of thing. Monroe had told them his Animus was off-line and untraceable. But somehow, Abstergo—or the Templars—had found them, and a little piece of Cudgel in Javier was glad about that. But even though Javier had basically been a Templar, the larger part of him had still wanted to run at the sight of the agents.