My hands continued to tremble, and I felt a stinging prick behind my eyes as I fought to quiet the shaking all through my body. Adrien held me close for another few seconds. When my hands had finally stilled, he pulled gently away, holding a hand up to wait. He peeked around the alcove corner, then motioned me to follow behind him.
I looked both ways down the empty hallway. When I caught up to Adrien, he’d pulled out another small device and put it directly in front of the thumbprint scanner.
“Stay back till I call you,” he whispered. The door hissed open and he slid inside. I waited for several anxious seconds outside.
“It’s clear,” he called quietly, and I came in. Stacks of two-and three-dimensional monitors filled the small room. There appeared to be three different work stations, but the chairs were empty.
“Where are all the systems engineers and techs?”
Adrien raised the thumbprint machine to close the door behind us, then sat at one of the consoles and started typing rapidly in the 3-D interface cube. “I caused a system malfunction in the Academy mainframe server hub on Sublevel Four. It’s protocol for these three techs to cover Sublevels Three through Eight. If there’s one thing you can count on Link drones for, it’s to obey protocol. Plus”—he smiled—“I saw in my vision that we got in here without any problem.”
“But did you see if we get out okay?”
“Don’t worry.” He waved a hand. He continued typing.
“Just a little bit further.” His thick eyebrows bunched up in concentration as he went deeper into the directory object files. Lightning-fast code flashed across the interface as he hacked his way past security wall after security wall. He was good. All Academy students learned some advanced programming. I was one of the best in my class, but I could still barely follow Adrien’s code.
“How do you know how to do that?” I whispered out in awe.
He grinned, his face illuminated in the orange light of the interface. “I’ve been hacking Community security tech since I could walk and talk. That’s life in the Rez for you.”
He bit his lip as he came to denser code. I quieted, not wanting to distract him, but I couldn’t keep my legs from shaking nervously as I paced around the room. There was no telling how long we had until the techs came back.
“All right. The video files of this hallway have been deleted and replaced with a loop of empty hallway. No one scanning the camera feeds will know we were here.” He zoomed in on an object file. Molla’s profile spun along the side of the projection cube.
“How long have they been watching her?” I whispered, leaning in to look.
“A few weeks now. She’s been cited for six anomalous incidents.” He pointed to the screen to show me. “When a subject gets to eight reports, they get hauled in for a diagnostic. Or if there’s a terminal event, like what was about to happen to Molla today, they skip straight to deactivation.”
“I hope Max was able to get there in time.”
“I don’t see any flags in the system,” he said. “That’s a good sign.”
I breathed out in relief.
“Okay, so let’s just adjust this file,” he paused, fingers moving rapidly. Then he smiled. “There, down to two anomaly citations.”
I felt like jumping up and down with happiness. We’d done it. I felt a rush of good feelings swarming my chest. Molla was okay, and I had no doubt Max would be able to find a way to give her the upgrade so she wouldn’t be in as much danger in the future. Everyone I cared about was safe.
Adrien was clicking on the interface again, backing out of the amended file, when he stopped and leaned in. “Wait, what’s that?”
“What?” I asked, leaning in as well. I peered at the green column of stacked directories in the interface cube. Most of the files in the column were solid green, but a few glowed brighter. “You mean that directory collection there?”
Adrien clicked a few times, and both of our eyes widened. He slid the column sideways, and we saw several more student profiles come into view. Each of their anomaly citations were well beyond twenty.
“Six more?” I whispered. “What does that mean? Are they all glitchers?”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “There shouldn’t be this many glitchers at the Academy. And why weren’t they taken in for diagnostics and repairs ages ago?”
He bit his lip and clicked on the surrounding files. “I wonder…” His fingers moved at rapid speed and I saw several columns fill the cube.
“What are you looking at?” I whispered.
“The history of anomalous activity for this district. Hmm.” He clicked and typed in more code. I watched as he worked. He came to a new directory. Only a few files glowed in these columns.
“What is that?”
“Anomalous activity to date. There hasn’t been a lot of history of anomalous activity,” he said. “But all of the sudden, the numbers have jumped.”
I looked at him quizzically. “Could something be happening to trigger the glitches?”
“There have been more glitchers in this generation than ever before, it’s true.” Adrien’s forehead was wrinkled with concern. “But this is more than just unusual.” He paused, eyes widening.
“Shunting hell, Zoe, look at this.” He’d been pulling up the glowing files and flipping through them, but he’d stopped on one in particular.
A profile rose up and spun in the cube in front of us. It was me. All the air in my lungs seemed to exit at once. But it wasn’t me that had caught Adrien’s attention. At the bottom of my profile there was a list of profiles linked to mine. Four of them. He opened up the one blinking yellow.
It was my little brother Markan. But at the same time, it wasn’t quite him. This boy was older, leaner, wearing an outdated uniform. It was the boy from my dreams.
I read the data set in the sidebar.
Subject: Q-24, Daavd. DEACTIVATION 4/12/2274.
Summary of Incident Report: After eleven anomalous incidents and attempted hardware rehabilitation, subject D. Q-24 attempted escape. Apprehended when accompanying sibling, Zoel, alerted Regulators at surface coordinates 9.103.23. Resolution: Prompt deactivation of D. Q-24 upon apprehension. Subject Z. Q-24 reintegrated into family unit after memory scrub.
“No,” I whispered, reaching into the interface cube, searching for more information. I struggled to breathe. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. “No!”
I grabbed frantically at the screen, typing every tech code I could think of to open up more information in the profile, but all the other subheadings were blank and I hit a security wall the more I pressed. It had to be wrong. It was impossible. I shook my head back and forth frantically.
“Adrien, what else is in that file?” My voice was high-pitched, near hysteria. My heart monitor was buzzing, but I didn’t care. This had to be wrong. “Show me what else is in that file!”
A high-pitched scream threatened to erupt from my throat. My arms shook with emotion and power, but this time I barely cared about maintaining control. For all I cared, my power could let loose and rip the data equipment from the walls, break down the doors and disable the entire Central System mainframe. It could bring the concrete maze of the Academy crashing down, crumbling it to dust. Anything to wipe away what I’d just seen.
The device Adrien had placed on the table beeped. “Shunt, Zoe, we have to get out of here. They’ve repaired the malfunction. They will be back any minute.”
I barely heard him. I was staring at the green silhouette of the older brother I didn’t remember having, my hands in fists so tight my fingernails broke my skin. My stomach twisted in pain.
The fragmented nightmares. The allergies. I had been on the Surface once before, exposing myself to the mold allergens. I’d been on the Surface and I’d betrayed my brother to the Regulators. Bile rose up into my throat. I had another brother. And I’d killed him.
Adrien had gathered up all his equipment and finally turned to look at me
. His face was a mask of worry.
I felt a tremor of anger rip through me. It was sharp and electric, filling me to my fingertips and making my scalp tingle with energy.
“Zoe, you have to stop. Zoe!” Adrien grabbed my frantic hands, forcing me to look at him. “We have to go. Now.”
I shook my head, my teeth gritted as streams of water poured down my cheeks. I wrenched my hands away from him. “He must have been trying to take me with him when he escaped. He didn’t want to be alone, so he took me with him. And then I got him killed!”
“You were only four years old!” Adrien pulled me away from the console. I fought to get back to the interface cube, but Adrien stepped in front of me, taking my face in both of his hands.
“Think of the others, Zoe,” he said quietly, his eyes searching back and forth between both of mine until I stilled. “If we get caught here it will put Max and Molla in danger. We need to leave. Can you click yourself back into the Link?”
I stared at Adrien, seeing him and not seeing him. He grabbed my upper arms, forcing me to meet his eyes. For a moment I was grounded again, locking on to something real, something other than the uncontrollable emotions that were surging through my body, threatening to break free. I finally nodded and stepped back, feeling dizzy and light-headed.
I wanted it—I wanted the Link. I wanted to bury my crushing pain in the numbing stream of the Link’s cold logic and order. But I didn’t deserve comfort. I’d killed my brother. I deserved to feel every ounce of the empty and the cold. I deserved to fall into the pit of darkness that was ripping open like a jagged abyss in my chest.
Adrien shook me, bringing me back to the present. I finally lifted my heavy eyes to his face. “Beta Ten Gamma Link. Say it, Zoe.”
I’d had an older brother. I’d gotten him deactivated. It was my fault. My fault, my fault, my fault. I clutched my stomach and sank to the ground. I was so heavy. I wanted to sink down right through the floor and disappear. I wanted to have never existed.
But I was a betraying coward, so I said it. I repeated after him dully, hating myself as I did: “Beta Ten Gamma Link.”
“Let’s go.” He grabbed me by the hand and hauled me from the room. We made it out through the long empty corridor, his hand in mine an anchor as he carefully maneuvered us back out of the doors of the restricted block. He pulled me down another hallway and into the alcove entrance to a classroom. The room was empty, but I heard footsteps in the next corridor beyond. It must be the end of the day. If we delayed too long, it would be noted that we were not following our strict schedules.
The Link News had filled my mind. The retina display readouts and subscript along the sides of my vision were bright and bracing and comfortingly familiar. I could forget everything in the numbness of the Link feed. If I let it, it could make me forget all the sudden sharp pain and guilt.
The alcove we were in seemed to dim, color leeching from my vision.
“Stay Linked until I come to your room tonight. Promise me,” he demanded.
I nodded.
“I’ll see you soon. Stay safe.” He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, some sort of hesitation or fear, but then he shook himself and pressed his lips to my forehead. He gently pushed me out from the alcove into the hallway, and somehow I managed to make my feet move. Inside, there was a howling scream building up inside me, like a wild beast clawing to get out, but the graying chatter of the Link soon drowned it out.
Chapter 17
THAT NIGHT I LAY IN BED, staring at the ceiling, every deep breath searing a fresh wound in my chest. Adrien came to my room, but I didn’t move or speak. He seemed to understand. He told me Max had disguised himself as a tech repair worker and disabled the video file before Molla had a chance to see it and become emotional in front of everyone. Then he’d given her the upgrade, so hopefully she’d be safe for the time being.
Adrien also told me he’d tried to find out more about the six glitchers that had come up in the database, but the information was locked behind a fortress of security that not even his hacking skills could breach. One more to add to a growing list of questions we couldn’t answer.
I nodded as Adrien talked, but I was only half-listening. My mind was far away, as it had been all day. I’d almost lost it during dinner, watching my brother Markan and imagining another brother. Daavd.
Stupid! How stupid of him to take a four-year-old on an escape mission! Then I felt guilty for accusing him, when it was really all my fault.
My chest clenched with pain. I’d disconnected from the Link after dinner because I knew I deserved to feel every ounce of pain. I thought about all the feelings I had for Markan, or how much I’d wanted to be close to Max because I knew, intuitively, that family was important.
Maybe Daavd thought the same thing. He’d taken me because he was trying to save me. And I had betrayed him. The image from my dream rose up, of him crashing into the leaves. The blood. I couldn’t stand myself. I couldn’t stand being in this body, in this detestable, shunting skin.
“Zoe, what are you doing?” Adrien’s voice broke into my thoughts.
I looked up in surprise. I’d forgotten he was here. He’d taken my hands in his gently and I looked down in surprise to see blood underneath my fingernails. I’d dug my nails into my upper arms deep enough to cut. I looked at Adrien in confusion, the horror of all my feelings too much a jumble to process all at once.
“I want to get away from myself,” I whispered. I clutched my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth. “But I can’t. I’m stuck here in my head with all these horrible memories and feelings and thoughts.”
“Oh, Zoe,” he said, his voice so soft. He pulled me against his chest and smoothed my hair in long, slow strokes. I closed my eyes, knowing I didn’t deserve the comfort, but I couldn’t manage to pull away either. I couldn’t even cry anymore. It was like all the pain had clotted together into a sharp stone in my intestines, ripping its way through my insides.
“Zoe. I’m sorry, so sorry.” His eyebrows were knit together. His face looked like I felt, like he was trying to share my sadness. I didn’t understand why, but it did make me feel less alone. Then I felt a guilty pang for causing him to hurt.
I stared at the ceiling long after Adrien disappeared up through the tile for the night. He was another person who cared about me. Another person who could get hurt because of me.
All this time, all I’d wanted was to not be alone, but now I realized how much safer it was to have no one to hurt, no one to lose. If I got caught, if my pain showed or my powers released on accident because I was wrapped up in guilt, all our lives would be at stake. I might deserve to hurt for what I’d done. I might even need it, but I didn’t have the luxury. There was no more time for crying.
* * *
A couple of weeks later, Max and I rode the subway to his housing unit. I hadn’t wanted to come. I just wanted to stay connected to the Link. To remain numb and in control as I curled into a ball each night, making myself as small as possible. I felt like I could disappear if I just tried hard enough.
But I knew stopping my study sessions with Max might look anomalous. At school, I went through the motions, tried to immerse myself in life as a Link drone—an unthinking, unfeeling machine.
Max slid the door to his room shut behind us. He smiled, then pulled back and reached for his bag.
“Listen. I know you’ve been sad, so I got you something.” He turned to me with his hands hidden behind his back. He grinned, dimples showing.
I was staring blankly at the wall, barely listening under the weight of the sadness that had come crashing back as soon as I disconnected from the Link. But I knew I should say something. “What is it?”
“Something special, just for you.”
I finally looked up at him and he stepped closer. “Close your eyes.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Max,” I said, managing half a nervous smile for the first time in a week. “What is it?”
“Close your eye
s,” he said insistently.
“Fine.” I closed my eyes obediently and heard a click.
“Now, keep them shut,” he whispered, his breath close to my face. I could hear the smile in his voice. “And smell.”
Still confused, I inhaled deeply and my eyes popped open in spite of myself. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever smelled. I swore I could almost taste it, just from the aroma alone. I looked into the small box Max held toward me and saw a thick slice of something brown and moist-looking nestled in the box.
“What is it?” I asked incredulously, leaning in closer and taking another deep whiff.
“It’s called chocolate cake.” He was grinning, obviously enjoying my reaction. “Wait until you taste it.” He pulled his other hand from behind his back, producing two forks.
I hesitated. “Really?”
He laughed. “Just take a bite already.”
I didn’t deserve anything so kind, and I almost said no. But Max looked so delighted, I took a small bite. It was so sweet, sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted before. And it seemed to melt in my mouth, smooth and creamy. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped my throat. I eagerly took another bite, a much bigger one this time.
Max laughed, his whole face lighting up as he watched me.
I gestured at the other fork. I knew I shouldn’t be enjoying myself, but it was the first time I’d felt anything pleasant since I’d found out about Daavd. Daavd. His name still caught in my throat. I shook the thought away, smiling as hard as I possibly could for Max.
“I can’t even think of a word for how good that tastes!” I said. “No words in my entire vocabulary are good enough to encapsulate the deliciousness of that— What was it called again?”
“Cake. Chocolate cake.”
“Cake,” I whispered reverently, then licked my fork again. “Where did you get it?”
He put the forks in the empty box and set it on the ground. “I had some of this when I was pretending to be an official the other day. They had this event, where a bunch of the Uppers get together to talk and eat.”