by Tahereh Mafi
“Wait. Wait.” I hold up a finger. “So, like, in a hypothetical situation— If Anderson came to Point asking for amnesty, claiming to be a changed man, you’d . . . ?”
Castle just looks at me.
I throw myself back in my chair with a groan.
“Kenji,” Castle says softly. “You know better than anyone else how we did things at Omega Point. I dedicated my life to giving second—and third—chances to those who’d been cast out by the world. You’d be stunned if you knew how many people’s lives were derailed by a simple mistake that snowballed, escalating beyond their control because no one was ever there to offer a hand or even an hour of assistance—”
“Castle. Sir.” I hold up my hands. “I love you. I really do. But Anderson isn’t a regular person. He—”
“Of course he’s a regular person, son. That’s exactly the point. We’re all just regular people, when you strip us down. There’s nothing to be afraid of when you look at Anderson; he’s just as human as you or me. Just as terrified. And I’m sure if he could go back and do his life over again, he’d make very different decisions.”
Nouria shakes her head. “You don’t know that, Dad.”
“Maybe not,” he says quietly. “But it’s what I believe.”
“Is that what you believe about me, too?” Warner asks. “Is that what you told her? That I was just a nice boy, a defenseless child who’d never lift a finger to hurt her? That if I could do it all over again I’d choose to live my life as a monk, dedicating my days to giving charity and spreading goodwill?”
“No,” Castle says sharply. It’s clear he’s starting to get irritated. “I told her that your anger was a defense mechanism, and that you couldn’t help that you were born to an abusive father. I told her that in your heart, you’re a good person, and that you don’t want to hurt anyone. Not really.”
Warner’s eyes flash. “I want to hurt people all the time,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because I’m thinking about all the people I’d like to murder.”
“Great.” I nod, leaning back in my chair. “This is super great. All of this information we’re collecting is super helpful and useful.” I count off on my fingers: “Amelia was a psycho, Castle wants to be BFFs with Anderson, Warner has midnight fantasies about killing people, and Castle made Amelia think that Warner is a lost little bunny trying to find his way home.”
When everyone stares at me, confused, I clarify:
“Castle basically gave Amelia the idea that she could walk into a room and murder Warner! He pretty much told her that Warner was about as harmful as a dumpling.”
“Oh,” Sam and Nouria say at the same time.
“I don’t think she wanted to murder him,” Castle says quickly. “I’m sure she just—”
“Dad, please.” Nouria’s voice is sharp and final. “Enough.” She shares a glance with Sam, and takes a deep breath.
“Listen,” she says, trying for a calmer tone. “We knew, when you got here, that we’d have to deal with this situation eventually, but I think it’s time we had a talk about our roles and responsibilities around here.”
“Oh. I see.” Castle clasps his hands. Stares at the wall. He looks so sad and small and ancient. Even his dreads seem more silver than black these days. Sometimes I forget he’s almost fifty. Most people think he’s, like, fifteen years younger than he actually is, but that’s just because he’s always looked really, really good for his age. But for the first time in years, I feel like I’m beginning to see the number on his face. He looks tired. Worn out.
But that doesn’t mean he’s done here.
Castle’s still got so much more to do. So much more to give. And I can’t just sit here and let him be shoved aside. Ignored. I want to shout at someone. I want to tell Nouria and Sam that they can’t just kick Castle to the curb like this. Not after everything. Not like this.
And I’m about to say something exactly like that, when Nouria speaks.
“Sam and I,” she says, “would like to offer you an official position as our senior adviser here at the Sanctuary.”
Castle’s head perks up. “Senior adviser?” He stares at Nouria. Stares at Sam. “You’re not asking me to leave?”
Nouria looks suddenly confused.
“Leave? Dad, you just got here. Sam and I want you to stay for as long as you like. We just think it’s important that we all know what we’re doing here, so that we can manage things in as efficient and organized a manner as possible. It’s hard for Sam and me to be effective at our jobs if we’re worried about tiptoeing around your feelings, and even though it’s hard to have conversations like this, we figured it would be best to jus—”
Castle pulls Nouria into a hug so fierce, so full of love, I feel my eyes sting with emotion. I actually have to look away for a moment.
When I turn back, Castle is beaming.
“I’d be honored to advise in any way that I can,” Castle says. “And if I haven’t said it enough, let me say it again: I’m so proud of you, Nouria. So proud of both of you,” he says, looking at Sam. “The boys would’ve been so proud.”
Nouria’s eyes go glassy with emotion. Even Sam seems moved.
One more minute of this, and I’m going to need a tissue.
“Right, well.” Warner is on his feet. “I’m glad the attempt on my life was able to bring your family together. I’m leaving now.”
“Wait—” I grab Warner’s arm and he shoves me off.
“If you keep touching me without my permission, I will remove your hands from your body.”
I ignore that. “Shouldn’t we tell them that we’re leaving?”
Sam frowns. “Leaving?”
Nouria’s eyebrows fly up. “We?”
“We’re going to get J,” I explain. “She’s back in Oceania. James told us everything. Speaking of which— You should probably talk to him. He’s got some news about Adam you won’t like, news that I don’t care to repeat.”
“Kent betrayed all of you to save himself.”
“To save James,” I clarify, shooting Warner a dirty look. “And that was not cool, man. I just said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m trying to be efficient.”
Castle looks stunned. He says nothing. He just looks stunned.
“Talk to James,” I say. “He’ll tell you what’s happening. But Warner and I are going to catch a plane—”
“Steal a plane.”
“Right, steal a plane, before the end of the day. And, uh, you know—we’ll just go get J and be back real quick, bim bam boom.”
Nouria and Sam are staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“Bim bam boom?” Warner says.
“Yeah, you know, like”—I clap my hands together—“boom. Done. Easy.”
Warner turns away from me with a sigh.
“Wait— So, just the two of you are doing this?” Sam asks. She’s frowning.
“Honestly, the fewer, the better,” Nouria answers for me. “That way, there are fewer bodies to hide, fewer actions to coordinate. Regardless, I’d offer to come with you, but we have so many still wounded that we need to care for—and now that Amelia is dead, there’s sure to be more emotional upheaval to manage.”
Castle’s eyes light up. “While they’re going after Ella,” he says to Nouria and Sam, “and the two of you are running things here, I was thinking I’d reach out to the friends in my network. Let them know what’s happening, and that change is afoot. I can help coordinate our moves around the globe.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sam says. “Maybe we c—”
“I don’t care,” Warner says loudly, and turns for the door. “And I’m leaving now. Kishimoto, if you’re coming, keep up.”
“Right,” I say, trying to sound important. “Yup. Bye.” I shoot a quick two-finger salute at everyone and run straight for the door only to slam hard into Nazeera.
Nazeera.
Holy shit. She’s awake. She’s perfect.
She’s pissed.
<
br /> “You two aren’t going anywhere without me,” she says.
ELLA
JULIETTE
I am a thief.
I stole this notebook and this pen from one of the doctors, from one of his lab coats when he wasn’t looking, and I shoved them both down my pants. This was just before he ordered those men to come and get me. The ones in the strange suits with the thick gloves and the gas masks with the foggy plastic windows hiding their eyes. They were aliens, I remember thinking. I remember thinking they must’ve been aliens because they couldn’t have been human, the ones who handcuffed my hands behind my back, the ones who strapped me to my seat. They stuck Tasers to my skin over and over for no reason other than to hear me scream but I wouldn’t. I whimpered but I never said a word. I felt the tears streak down my cheeks but I wasn’t crying.
I think it made them angry.
They slapped me awake even though my eyes were open when we arrived. Someone unstrapped me without removing my handcuffs and kicked me in both kneecaps before ordering me to rise. And I tried. I tried but I couldn’t and finally 6 hands shoved me out the door and my face was bleeding on the concrete for a while. I can’t really remember the part where they dragged me inside.
I feel cold all the time.
I feel empty, like there is nothing inside of me but this broken heart, the only organ left in this hell. I feel the bleats echo within me, I feel the thumping reverberate around my skeleton. I have a heart, says science, but I am a monster, says society. And I know it, of course I know it. I know what I’ve done. I’m not asking for sympathy.
But sometimes I think—sometimes I wonder—if I were a monster—surely, I would feel it by now?
I would feel angry and vicious and vengeful.
I’d know blind rage and bloodlust and a need for vindication.
Instead I feel an abyss within me that’s so deep, so dark I can’t see within it; I can’t see what it holds. I do not know what I am or what might happen to me.
I do not know what I might do again.
—An excerpt from Juliette’s journals in the asylum
KENJI
I stand stock-still for a moment, letting the shock of everything settle around me, and when it finally hits me that Nazeera is really here, really awake, really okay, I pull her into my arms. Her defensive posture melts away, and suddenly she’s just a girl—my girl—and happiness rockets through me. She’s not even close to being short, but in my arms, she feels small. Pocket-sized. Like she was always meant to fit here, against my chest.
It’s like heaven.
When we finally pull apart, I’m beaming like an idiot. I don’t even care that everyone is staring at us. I just want to live in this moment.
“Hey,” I say to her. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and then—smiles. It changes her whole face. It makes her look a lot less like a mercenary and a lot more like an eighteen-year-old girl. Though I think I like both versions, if I’m being honest.
“I’m so happy you’re okay, too,” she says quietly.
We stare at each other a moment longer before I hear someone clear their throat in a dramatic fashion.
Reluctantly, I turn around.
I know, in an instant, that the throat-clearing came from Nouria. I can tell by the way her arms are crossed, the way her eyes are narrowed. Sam, on the other hand, looks amused.
But Castle looks happy. Surprised, but happy.
I grin at him.
Nouria’s frown deepens. “You two know Warner left, right?”
That wipes the smile off my face. I spin around, but there’s no sign of him. I turn back, swearing quietly under my breath.
Nazeera shoots me a look.
“I know,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s going to try and leave without us.”
She almost laughs. “Definitely.”
I’m about to say my good-byes again when Nouria jumps to her feet. “Wait,” she says.
“No time,” I say, already backing out the door. “Warner is going to bail on us, and I c—”
“He’s about to take a shower,” Sam says, cutting me off.
I freeze so fast I nearly fall over. I turn around, eyebrows high. “He’s what now?”
“He’s about to take a shower,” she says again.
I blink at her slowly, like I’m stupid, which, honestly, is kind of how I’m feeling at the moment. “You mean you’re, like, watching him get ready to take a shower?”
“It’s not weird,” Nouria says flatly. “Stop making it weird.”
I squint at Sam. “What’s Warner doing right now?” I ask her. “Is he in the shower yet?”
“Yes.”
Nazeera raises a single eyebrow. “So you’re just, like, watching a naked Warner in the shower right now?”
“I’m not looking at his body,” Sam says, sounding very close to irritated.
“But you could,” I say, stunned. “That’s what’s so weird about this. You could just watch any of us take extremely naked showers.”
“You know what?” Nouria says sharply. “I was going to do something to make things easier for you guys on your way out, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Wait—” Nazeera says. “Make things easier how?”
“I was going to help you steal a jet.”
“Okay, all right, I take it back,” I say, holding up my hands in apology. “I retract all my previous comments about nakedness. I would also like to formally apologize to Sam, who we all know is way too nice and way too cool to ever spy on anyone in the shower.”
Sam rolls her eyes. Cracks a smile.
Nouria sighs. “I don’t understand how you deal with him,” she says to Castle. “I can’t stand all the jokes. It would drive me insane to have to listen to this all day.”
I’m about to protest when Castle responds.
“That’s only because you don’t know him well enough,” Castle says, smiling at me. “Besides, we don’t love him for his jokes, do we, Nazeera?” The two of them lock eyes for a moment. “We love him for his heart.”
At that, the smile slips from my face. I’m still processing the weight of that statement—the generosity of such a statement—when I realize I’ve already missed a beat.
Nouria is talking.
“The air base isn’t far from here,” she’s saying, “and I guess this is as good a time as any to let you all know that Sam and I are about to take a page out of Ella’s playbook and take over Sector 241. Stealing a plane will be the least of the damage—and, in fact, I think it’s a great way to launch our offensive strategy.” She glances over her shoulder. “What do you think, Sam?”
“Brilliant,” she says, “as usual.”
Nouria smiles.
“I didn’t realize that was your strategy,” Castle says, the smile fading from his face. “Don’t you think, based on how things turned out the last time, that m—”
“Why don’t we discuss this after we’ve sent the kids off on their mission? Right now it’s more important that we get them situated and give them a proper send-off before it’s officially too late.”
“Hey, speaking of which,” I say quickly, “what makes you think we’re not already too late?”
Nouria meets my eyes. “If they’d done the transfer,” she says, “we would’ve felt it.”
“Felt it how?”
It’s Sam who responds: “In order for their plan to work, Emmaline has to die. They won’t let that happen naturally, of course, because a natural death could occur in any number of ways, which leaves too many factors up in the air. They need to be able to control the experiment at all times— which is why they were so desperate to get their hands on Ella before Emmaline died. They’re almost certainly going to kill Emmaline in a controlled environment, and they’ll set it up in a way that leaves no room for error. Even so, we’re bound to feel something change.
“That infinitesimal shift—after Emmaline’s powers recede, but be
fore they’re funneled into a new host body— will dramatically glitch our visual of the world. And that moment hasn’t happened yet, which makes us think that Ella is probably still safe.” Sam shrugs. “But it could be happening any minute now. Time really is of the essence.”
“How do you know so much about this?” Nazeera asks, her brows furrowed. “For years I tried to get my hands on this information, and I came up with nothing, despite being so close to the source. But you seem to know all of this on some kind of personal level. It’s incredible.”
“It’s not that incredible,” Nouria says, shaking her head. “We’ve just been focused in our search. All rebel groups have a different strength or core principle. For some, it’s safety. For others, it’s war. For us, it’s been research. The things we’ve seen have been out there for everyone to see— there are glitches all the time—but when you’re not looking for them, you don’t notice them. But I noticed. Sam noticed. It was one of the things that brought us together.”
The two women share a glance.
“We felt really sure that part of our oppression was in an illusion,” Sam says. “And we’ve been chasing down the truth with every resource we’ve got. Unfortunately, we still don’t know everything.”
“But we’re closer than most,” Nouria says. She takes a sharp breath, refocusing. “We’ll be holding down our end of things while you’re gone. Hopefully, when you return, we’ll have flipped more than one sector to our side.”
“You really think you’ll be able to accomplish that much in such a short period of time?” I ask, eyes wide. “I was hoping we wouldn’t be gone for more than a couple days.”
Nouria smiles at me then, but it’s a strange smile, a searching smile. “Don’t you understand?” she says. “This is it. This is the end. This is the defining moment we’ve all been fighting for. The end of an era. The end of a revolution. We currently—finally—have every advantage. We have people on the inside. If we do this right, we could collapse The Reestablishment in a matter of days.”
“But all of that hinges on us getting to J on time,” I say. “What if we’re too late?”