“Jesus, Lex,” said Zeke. “Go easy on her.”
“Shut up and eat your soup.” Lexi took an angry sip of her own. Fucking Callie Roux, carrying her heartbreak like a trophy. Even that goddamn streak of grease on her cheek was beginning to piss Lexi off.
She swept her bowl aside. “I’m going for a walk.”
“A walk?” Zeke raised his spiked brows. “We don’t even know where we’re allowed to go.”
“‘Allowed?’ Grow a spine.”
Lexi pushed through the kitchen doors and set off down the corridor at a leisurely pace. She turned aimlessly at each intersection, moving deeper into the featureless halls. They were tight passages of industrial cement lit by recessed overhead lights, and before long she had lost any sense of direction.
After some time wandering, she found a white door. From behind came the sound of low murmuring, electronic beeping and someone groaning. A sadistic torture chamber? Only one way to find out.
She walked into what seemed a treatment room of some kind, filled with rows of beds accompanied by medical equipment. Several of the beds were occupied by blanketed patients, most unmoving but a few stirring and twitching. A pair of nurses attended to them.
One of the nurses, a man with a surgical mask pulled low to reveal his puzzled face, looked up as Lexi entered. “Are you meant to be here?”
“Probably not. These people are here by choice, right?”
The nurse shot her a disapproving frown. “Of course they are.”
An immense patient strapped to his bed gave a desperate grunt, and the bed rocked as he shook the restraints. His eyes were glassy, and saliva flecked his lips. He groaned and tossed the bed again. The second nurse hurried to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Why is he tied up?” said Lexi. “Here by choice, you said.”
“The restraints are for his protection. He’s suffering from addiction to a popular street drug, and we’re giving him a course of treatments that will prevent these episodes from occurring.”
“That’s nice. And who pays?”
“Society, if we do nothing,” said Riva from the doorway. She entered with a tray of food and began to place bowls at the bedsides.
Lexi leaned on a medical monitor as she watched Riva at work. A regular angel of mercy. Usually Lexi was cynical about that sort of thing, but she could make an exception here. “So, do you feel like playing doctor with me?”
“Very funny. Nikolas and Amity wouldn’t be happy with you wandering around like this. Amity especially.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Wandering around is more fun when I know people disapprove.”
One of the nurses coughed, and Riva took Lexi by the arm. “Let’s talk outside.”
Lexi allowed herself to be steered out the door, and she and Riva faced each other beneath the heated glow of the hallway lights. A septic scent lingered in the air, one Lexi hadn’t noticed before, mingled with the fading aroma of soup.
“Do you want to talk about it?” said Riva. “Whatever’s troubling you.”
Damn it. So much for Lexi’s carefully managed nonchalance. “Shit.” Lexi brushed her hair back with her fingers, a gesture hopefully sexy enough to be face-saving. “I guess I’m not coming off as cool as I mean to be.”
“You just seem a little tense.”
“I’ve had a rough day, that’s all. The shut-ins raided my apartment, and then I had to hurt some people.”
Riva took a step back. “You hurt people?”
If only Riva knew. There was nothing worse than wiping a mind, probing through its discordant haze and excising it in a frantic instant. Each memory dissolved into white light. Obliterated. “I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t happy about it.”
“As a pacifist, I understand how you feel.”
Well, that was adorable. “Are your friends downstairs pacifists too?”
A hint of injury flashed into Riva’s eyes. “I can tell you’re cynical. But Nikolas and Amity do genuinely care about the people of Foundation. They’re the very last hope for many.”
“I don’t trust them. But I think I trust you.”
Riva’s shy smile returned. “Were you joking about being a cyborg?”
“No joke. I have an aug that’s never worked in anyone else. Now the shut-ins want to put me under a microscope to find out why I’m different.”
“That’s horrific.” Riva radiated warm, gentle sympathy. “I hope you’ll be safe with us.”
The sound of footsteps marked the arrival of that son of a bitch Kade. He strolled down the hall, looking rumpled but purposeful in his weathered trench coat. “Lexi. Nikolas wants you back downstairs.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Riva. “Take care.” She gave Kade a nervous look and hurried away, the tray clutched to her chest.
“Hey.” Lexi glared into Kade’s grim, unapologetic face. “You asshole, you scared her away.”
“I’m sure she’ll come back,” said the asshole. “You don’t really have time to flirt right now, anyway.”
“What’s with those two downstairs? They act like they’re part of some whackjob paramilitary outfit. I mean, ‘Bunker One’?”
“Open Hand take themselves seriously, and so they should. The issues they face here are real.”
Lexi tried to penetrate his dark eyes, but Kade was impervious to quick scrutiny. “How much do they know about me?”
“It’s your call how much you divulge. If you’re skeptical about their motives, read them.”
Kade turned to leave, and Lexi followed without enthusiasm. Fucking revolutionaries. All they did was get people killed, even those who never wanted to be involved in the first place. Misguided martyrs stockpiling guns and waiting for some suicidal day of judgment.
But that wasn’t her problem. Her problem was Kade and the memories he brought with him—memories of tarnished steel tracks, sunsets like blood suffusing a flame, two shadows stretched alongside her own. Days of love and regret. Days she didn’t want to remember. Couldn’t afford to even if she did.
* * *
Amity had called it the ‘strategy room’, a pretty grand title for what proved to be an old storage area. Even the cabinets fixed to the walls were marked as containing cleaning supplies. A flimsy table—no doubt they called it the strategy table—stood in the center of the cramped space.
Nikolas and Amity sat side by side, their serious faces illuminated by the soft light of the room’s single bulb. Amity boasted perfect posture, while Nikolas slouched with his fingers pressed together, looking like a tousle-haired villain. Glancing into his pale green eyes, Lexi discerned nothing more than a hint of caution. Amity’s eyes betrayed nothing.
The four visitors arranged themselves around the table. Zeke seemed bored, Callie sulky, Kade guarded.
Nikolas gave them a crooked smile. “Much as I would love you all to stay with us indefinitely, I’m afraid you do pose something of a risk.”
“So I won’t get to live in this bunker forever?” said Zeke. “I’m heartbroken.”
“Right now, this much is clear.” Nikolas separated his hands in an expansive gesture. “The Codists will eventually reach you here. Staying isn’t an option even if I could allow it.”
“So we’ll go south,” said Callie. “If we make it to Port Venn, we’re golden.”
“That’s what Amity and I were thinking. Though I don’t approve entirely of the regime there, it will at least provide protection from the Codists.”
“Uh.” Zeke raised his hand. “Isn’t that just going from one bad thing to another? I mean, it’s just a different bunch of crazies in charge.”
Nikolas nodded. “I’ll grant it’s a dangerous city, but there are no true refuges in the world.”
Lexi set her feet on the table, to Amity’s obvious displeasure. “Maybe I don’t want to go to Port Venn. I’m a nobody there. Foundation is where my reputation is.”
“I appreciate the inconvenience, but what else do you propose? You live, as I understand it,
a very conspicuous lifestyle. You can hardly expect to continue it and not be captured.”
“I’d have thought you’d like it there,” Callie said. “Plenty of rich people for you to take advantage of.”
“And what about you?” said Lexi. “You ready to abandon your little garage, all that precious junk of yours?”
“Well, it’s not forever, is it? Just until the trail grows cold.”
This freaking kid. This wasn’t about her, so why did she keep pushing in with her opinion? “Easy for you. It’s not your brain they’re looking for.”
“On which note, tell us about Project Sky,” said Amity. “The legend is that it provides immortality. Which is absurd. What does it really do?”
“Sorcery.” Lexi wiggled her fingers beside her head. “I can read minds.”
“I don’t have time for your foolishness. What is Project Sky?”
“She’s not kidding,” said Zeke. “I know it’s some wild shit, but it’s true.”
Nikolas glanced at Kade, who nodded. Nikolas’s shaggy ginger eyebrows shot upward. “Can you read our thoughts right now?”
“It depends on the person,” said Lexi. “From this distance, I probably couldn’t get much from either of you. But if I got close enough, sure, I could read your thoughts.”
“And if they had more cyborgs like you at their disposal…” Nikolas frowned. “Yes, I see it now. But what I don’t understand is how you knew they were coming for you.”
“None of your business,” said Callie. “And if you’re smart, you won’t ask that question again.”
“Callie, it’s okay.” Kade put a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “We can’t tell you their identity, but we have an insider. A sympathetic person with access to high-security Codist channels.”
“You can’t identify them?” said Amity. “Not even to us?”
“You know I won’t name a source, Amity. Not even to you. And I won’t tell the Gazette either, not when exposing the truth would put people’s lives at risk. If the Codists achieve their aim here, we’ll lose the refuge even of our minds, and we’ll be trained to love our servitude.”
Lexi gave a theatrical yawn. “Scary stuff.”
“We can talk about this later,” said Callie. “Right now, we have to do something to help our insider. They’re completely cut off. Can you help me get in touch with them?”
“That depends on many things,” said Nikolas. “Allude a little.”
“They’re inside an enclave. A big one. It’s risky for them to leave.”
“I see. In that case, they would be exposed very rapidly if they attempted to use the cellular network.” Nikolas raised a finger. “However, we do have an encrypted radio channel. Depending on which enclave your friend is in, they may be able to communicate on it.”
Amity drew in a sharp breath. “You can’t just give one of our radio phones to an unknown Codist. Are you mad?”
Nikolas pursed his lips. “Kade, do you vouch for this person?”
“I do,” said Kade.
“It’s not a matter of faith,” Amity said. “It’s a matter of risk.”
“I apologize,” said Nikolas. “It seems my second and I will need to have a discussion first. I’ll be certain to have a response for you tomorrow. For now, I suggest you relax for the remainder of the evening. We have films in our recreational room.”
“You got snacks?” said Lexi. “I can’t really enjoy a film without snacks.”
Amity gave her an incredulous look. “What is wrong with you?”
If Lexi kept pushing, was it possible Amity would murder her right here and now? “Hey, I just like snacks. Don’t you? Or did someone you love choke to death on a piece of popcorn?”
Nikolas leapt to his feet, almost upending the table, and grasped the seething Amity by the shoulder. “Meeting adjourned, I think.”
CHAPTER 6
A row of white-blossomed trees lined the path to the elite dormitory. Mineko inhaled their delicate scent as she walked under the pale boughs.
Students loitered on the path, engaged in nervous discussion. Exam talk. Mineko could sympathize, though in truth, she didn’t have to worry. A word from her parents and Student Administration would find that a processing error had lowered her grade average. It had happened before.
After passing through the dormitory’s sliding glass doors, Mineko crossed the marble tiles of the lobby and entered the stairwell. She paused on the first landing to glare at the immense oil painting hanging there. It depicted an ancient dean clutching a book and offering a bemused, placid smile to the viewer. As a First Codist, he wore no uniform; the Second Code had introduced the hated jumpsuits.
Mineko hurried to the door of her room and swiped her keycard. A low buzzing note played, and the lock clicked open. She took in her lonely refuge—the narrow bed with its rumpled sheets, the tree outside the window, the desk at which she spent evenings staring through branches toward the stars—and her chest began to ache again.
What a cruel taste of freedom that had been.
Would she ever see them again? She would have liked to talk more to Kade, who had seemed so clever. Despite his profane prattle, Zeke had been nice too. He’d given her a painkiller. Lexi had been intimidating but exciting as well. And then there was Callie.
Mineko took the watch from her pocket and flipped it open. Twenty past four. The second hand performed a full circuit, coaxing the minute hand to creep onward, and her ache intensified. She’d always wanted a friend to join in her private jokes and observations, someone to keep her company and share her secrets. In other circumstances, maybe Callie could have been that friend.
As if to taunt her, footsteps pounded down the corridor, accompanied by the sound of laughter. Even if another student did share Mineko’s doubts, they too would hide them, meekly growing into their future roles, concealing their anxieties and crying in private. The way she was crying now. Wanting for comfort, helpless without it…
She closed her eyes and held the watch tight. For a minute she listened to its gentle ticking, letting that sound occupy the entirety of her thoughts.
But no—she couldn’t sulk like this. She might be able to help the others.
She retrieved her study tablet and tapped its screen, awakening it. After navigating to her message bank, she typed a quick message to Kaori: Missing you both. May I come for dinner tonight? Her index finger sent the message on its way, and she flopped back to the bed.
Missing you both.
It hadn’t even been a lie. At home, she didn’t have to hide her disdain from her lecturers, didn’t have to endure all this solitude, didn’t have to wonder—in moments so bleak she seemed tiny and still, like something unborn—whether she’d ever sleep beside the warmth of another body. At home, she could watch confiscated movies with her father. She could sit in front of the fireplace and fall asleep, warm and drowsy, while her parents talked freely about matters she was forbidden to know.
She could feel loved.
The tablet chirped. Kaori was always quick to reply; she never seemed to be far from her phone. Mineko tapped the message open.
That would be lovely! Your father is in a foul mood today, but if anyone can cheer him up, it’s you. We’re serving at half past six. Would you like to stay the night?
Mineko prodded out a response: I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Not sure if I can stay. There was no chance she’d stay. It was simpler to wake here, in this solitary emptiness, and pretend that nothing else existed.
* * *
The Codist underground loop connected each enclave and avoided Foundation’s district transport system entirely, ensuring that no Codist would ever have to witness the reality of the world’s decay. Each train featured gleaming steel exteriors, plush interiors, and cabins containing no more than four seats. The lighting was steady, the cushions luxurious. Graffiti was unimaginable.
Mineko took an empty cabin, as was her preference. Comfortably settled on soft upholstery, she focused on the
humming sound of the train in motion. No matter how hard she tried to blank her thoughts, Callie’s music still repeated itself in her head. The rhythm she recalled clearly, but the lyrics were vague. Had it been a cold night coming? Or a long night?
A calm, genderless voice murmured overhead. “Ten minutes until arrival at Urban Enclave One.”
She needed to stop thinking about Callie. And Lexi. The memory of that languid, white-haired libertine was far too dangerous. The way she’d kissed that girl at the nightclub…
Mineko had been taught that such things were wrong, but it hadn’t looked wrong to her eyes. Quite the opposite. And—mortifyingly—Lexi had read her thoughts and seen her guilty fascination.
“Now arriving at Urban Enclave One.”
Mineko exited the train, followed the platform, and waited on the escalator as it rose toward a square of gray light above. The dark steps terminated, and she stepped into the open air.
Urban Enclave One was a natural park and a residential haven. The industrious First Codists had shifted immense mounds of dirt to form small hills and valleys, the sides of which were decorated with colorful foliage. Trees lined paths winding through grassy terrain, their branches brandishing translucent leaves, and a melody of running water and lively birdsong played through the air.
Little wonder Kade held the Codists in such contempt.
Mineko turned to the path leading home, and her heart beat harder. Kaori was sitting on a bench, smiling in Mineko’s direction.
“How long have you been waiting here, Mother?”
“Not too long.” Kaori left the bench and met Mineko halfway down the path. “And I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘mother.’”
“It’s important to show respect to one’s parents. They’re the foundation of the family unit.”
Kaori laughed and squeezed Mineko’s shoulder. “They’re teaching you too well over there.”
Mineko was unable to hide her pleasure any longer, and Kaori smiled back, her eyes warming. “There you are,” she said. “I knew my daughter was hiding somewhere inside that sulky young woman.”
They looked alike, or so people said. In reality, Kaori was several inches taller, graceful, and far more beautiful—at least in Mineko’s estimation. Her navy overall was embellished with gleaming awards and insignia, and her black hair was cropped short, adding to her look of impishness. Her lips never seemed far from a smile. It was hard to believe she had killed people.
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