Etherworld

by Claudia Gabel

  Finally, a reporter asks: “Is Bryce Williams’s death connected to the problems Elusion is currently experiencing?”

  “I don’t see how. I told you already, our engineers are working on it as I speak. We hope to have it up and running in no time.”

  Up and running again?

  Elusion is gone. We destroyed it.

  “What about reports of the CIT pulling approval of Elusion?” another reporter asks.

  “Unfounded,” she says quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She spins away from the camera, heading back into Orexis. Patrick turns off the InstaComm.

  No one speaks. I can’t get Bryce’s face out of my head, nor the images from the photos in his house—his sons playing basketball, he and his wife dancing and in love, a family Thanksgiving. Did our confrontation somehow push him over the edge?

  “I told him I felt sorry for his sons,” I say. “That they were going to be ashamed.”

  “Regan,” Josh says forcefully. “You had every right to speak out. Bryce Williams kidnapped your father.”

  “No,” Patrick says, practically shaking as he takes the seat across from us. He’s wringing his hands; his neck has turned bright red. “My mother kidnapped David. Bryce is just her most recent victim.”

  “I don’t know what happened with Bryce,” Avery says. “But I can tell you this for a fact: none of you are responsible. That man was seriously messed up. Kids are dead because of his actions. And he knew it.”

  I think it’s the first time I’ve heard Avery attempt to comfort anyone. And her timing couldn’t be better.

  “Thanks, Avery,” I say, picking my Equip up off the coffee table. “Why is Cathryn acting like there’s just a problem with the signal or something?” I ask. “She’s got to realize by now that her plan to vaccinate Elusion didn’t work.”

  “She’s probably just trying to defuse the situation and calm down the nervous investors until she can cover her tracks,” Patrick says bitterly, as if the mere mention of his mother makes him sick.

  My eyes drift toward the blank InstaComm screen as I visualize the look on Bryce’s face as we left. The sadness. The shame. The fear. I wish I had known how desperate he was. I might’ve handled it differently.

  One thing is certain. There has been enough death.

  “We need to find my dad,” I say. “Now.”

  “Don’t worry,” Avery says, adjusting her glasses. “We will. And then we’ll bring that bitch and her entire evil empire down.”

  Avery, Patrick, Zoe, Josh, and I stand in the middle of the old Menlop Hills Mall, the only light coming from our tabs. Entering was easier than I had thought it would be. Giblin’s passcard once again came in handy, allowing us to disable the security sensors and use the delivery entrance of an old department store.

  “How are we going to find him?” I ask Patrick as I shine my tab toward a wall of shuttered stores. We’re in the grand lobby of the old mall, surrounded by hundreds of dark, empty stores and former restaurants.

  I turn back toward the oversize circular staircase and follow it up to the top floor, craning my neck backward to look at the soaring glass atrium ceiling. Thick Florapetro clouds are blocking the moon, but a few of the night stars are still visible, casting the inside of the mall in an eerie yellow glow.

  This place is huge. And everything looks so pristine, as if the occupants just moved out yesterday. The giant artificial palm trees still look brand-new. The fountain isn’t turned on, but the water is a crystal blue.

  “So how are we going to find him?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “We could split up and go store to store,” Josh suggests.

  “Wherever he is, he’s probably still attached to an Equip and tab. The news conference we saw was live, and Orexis is a good fifteen minutes away. I doubt my mom would have had time to get here yet,” Patrick says.

  “You think it’s still emitting a signal?” Avery asks him.

  “Maybe. We all need to turn off our tabs and I’ll see if I can pick it up.”

  We shut down our tabs, with the exception of Patrick, who is typing something on his screen. He finishes and we wait, all staring at him.

  “I’m picking up four signals,” he says. “Two on the sixth floor, one in the northeast corner, and one opposite.”

  Avery scoots behind him, looking over his shoulder. “One on the fifth floor—looks like it’s directly north,” she says. She scours the tab with her eyes. “Oh,” she says, pointing toward the touch screen. “And one on the second floor, southwest.”

  “Good catch,” Patrick says.

  “Can we turn our tabs back on now?” Zoe asks. “If I’m going to decipher these directions, I’ll need a compass. I’m completely turned around in here.”

  “Yeah, turn them back on,” Patrick says. “I’ve sent you all the coordinates. Use your GPS—it’ll get you to the general area. Beyond that, we’ll just have to search the stores.”

  Josh lets go of my hand as we reach for our tabs. “We’ll split up in pairs,” he says. “And I’ll go alone.”

  “No,” Patrick says. “I’m going alone. My mom is the bad guy, remember? I’m probably the only one here who’s safe.”

  “Pat . . . ,” I begin, ready to protest his decision.

  “Ree,” he interrupts, raising his hand to silence me. “Don’t.”

  “And when we find him?” Zoe whispers as we begin to move.

  “The plan stays the same,” I say. “Get video evidence.”

  “Too bad some asshole had my site disabled,” Avery says, referring to what Patrick did to her vlog earlier this week when she was talking about the rumors regarding the dangers of Elusion. I know he regrets it, especially since she turned out to be right.

  “Well, you have my permission to get this on any other site you wish. I have confidence in your ability to work around it.”

  Avery gives him a snide grin. “Come on, Zoe,” she says. “We’ll take the second floor and work our way up.”

  “Josh and I will take the sixth floor,” I say. If Patrick’s going to be alone, I’d rather not have him taking the floor with two possible leads.

  “Got your OC spray?” Zoe asks, nudging me in the arm as we head toward the steps.

  I open my hand, revealing the small canister. “Out and ready to use as needed,” I say.

  Zoe winks, unfolding her fist and showing me hers as well.

  “Patrick, you should take mine,” Avery offers. “Each team should have one.”

  “No,” he says. “I told you, she’s not going to hurt me—”

  “Pat,” I say. “Please.”

  “I’m good,” he insists, heading toward the steps and leading the charge.

  Zoe’s eyes catch mine, and for a minute I see the truth behind her eternal optimism. It’s an act. She’s just as worried about Patrick confronting his mom as I am.

  Zoe and Avery head to the second floor, Zoe staring at the compass on her tab as they veer off from the group. “Hey,” Patrick says, looking at Zoe. “Contact me the minute you see anything suspicious. Don’t confront my mom yourself, okay?”

  “Sure,” Zoe says, giving him a little smile before hurrying to catch up with Avery.

  As Josh, Patrick, and I watch them leave, I know we’re all worried about the same thing. None of us want to separate.

  But we have little choice if we’re to find my dad, and so we continue on, making our way up flight after flight. As we hit the fifth floor, Josh grabs Patrick’s arm. “Be careful,” he warns. “Desperation can do strange things to people. Even those we love.”

  Patrick hesitates before shrugging off Josh’s hand. “You guys be careful too.”

  I take Josh’s hand and we climb the remaining flight, stopping at the top of the stairs to take a close listen. It’s completely silent.

  Glancing at the compass, I motion to my left. Josh turns his tab on the dimmest light possible as we begin to walk the rows of empty storefronts, most with their security gr
illes in place. As we get to the end, we spot a store with the grille half open. Josh slips under the partition. I turn down the dimmer on my tab and follow him in.

  The long and narrow store is clogged with broken shelving and naked mannequins, some still draped in the odd piece of clothing. I look for Josh, but he’s disappeared, so I tiptoe down an aisle, heading toward the back of the store. There’s an InstaComm on the counter. It’s still transmitting images, its volume muted.

  Great. This must be the signal Patrick found coming from the sixth floor. I turn off the InstaComm and head back toward the front of the store. I meet Josh halfway and we shake our heads at each other. Both of us have come up empty.

  We make our way back toward the front, but just as we’re about to crawl under the partition, there’s a glimmer of light.

  Someone’s here.

  Even though I tell myself it’s probably just one of the gang, I grab on to Josh’s shirt and tug him back toward me. We lean up against the wall as the light grows brighter, followed by the click of heels.

  We see a flash of white-blond hair, a bright red coat, and a black, rectangular bag.

  Cathryn.

  “Alert the others,” Josh whispers. And before I can protest, he’s gone, slipping into the darkness under the door.

  I send a quick group message, tucking my tab in my pocket before following. When I get back into the hall, it takes my eyes a second to adjust to the dim yellow light.

  Somewhere down the hall, a door creaks.

  I take out my tab and shine the light toward the noise. An old-fashioned metal emergency exit door at the end of the hall is swinging shut. I run and grab the old steel handles before it locks. It squeaks as I yank it open.

  I’m in the fire stairwell. To my right is a partially open door, a side entrance to a store. I open the door and walk in, shining my tab around the room. I stop when I see the gurney in the corner. A pale, withered figure lies on top, his face barely visible, his eyes covered by a visor, his body under a blanket.

  My dad.

  As I hurry toward him, I forget all about Cathryn and the danger. But as I get closer, my stomach twists into a knot. My dad’s completely still, his complexion pallid and waxy.

  I get to his side and place my hand on his cold forehead. There’s no sign of life. I yank off his visor. His eyes are open, and even though the natural brown color has returned, they’re staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

  “I’ve never watched anyone die before,” a voice says, breaking through the darkness. Cathryn. I twist around, shining my tab toward her voice. She’s standing opposite me, in the far corner of the room.

  “Is he . . . ?” I ask. “Is he . . . ?”

  Dead.

  I can’t even bring myself to say the word.

  “Not yet,” she says.

  I take off his wristband and feel for a pulse, my hands trembling with rage. He’s still alive. Barely. “How could you do this?” I breathe.

  She ignores my question and yanks something out of the case on the floor, a tiny telescope-shaped tube attached to a black leather sling.

  “You were like a second mother to me. You were part of our family.”

  She continues setting up the machine, ignoring me.

  “I cared about you,” I continue. “I even compared my own mother to you, wishing she could be more like you, more assertive and smart.” It makes me sick to remember, but it’s true.

  “You spoke at my dad’s funeral,” I say, practically spitting the words. “You let us believe he was dead. And the whole time you were keeping him locked inside Elusion, destroying his life. Destroying my mother. How could you watch us suffer like that?”

  “It wasn’t personal,” she says, her voice sounding surprisingly sad. “Your father didn’t give me any alternative.”

  “He knew that Elusion was dangerous,” I say, my fists at my side. “He wanted you to pull Elusion—”

  “I couldn’t do that,” she says simply.

  “Why not?” I ask. “Look what’s happened. People are dying.” An image of Claire flashes through my mind. “Kids who had their whole lives ahead of them!”

  “You’re not a scientist, Regan. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “What about me, Mom?” Patrick is standing in the doorway, glaring at his mother. “Do you think I’ll understand? Because I don’t.”

  “Stay where you are,” Cathryn tells Patrick, her voice shaking as she slips the sling to the machine over her arm.

  “Or what?” he asks. “You’re going to vaporize me with one of our new military rifles? You don’t even know how to shoot a gun!”

  She raises the rifle in his direction as she primes what looks a lot like a trigger.

  “You underestimate me,” she says quietly.

  “I get it,” Patrick says. “You can shoot a gun. Is this how you took down the HyperSoar that David was supposedly killed in?”

  The HyperSoar. My dad’s plane. Josh and I both knew it could be autocontrolled.

  “I’m not a monster!” Cathryn says, still pointing the rifle at Patrick. “I did what I had to do. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Especially David. He was my friend.” She sounds almost choked up, like all these deaths are beginning to bother her. “But what David created was bigger than both of us. He may not have realized it, but the world needed—needs—Elusion. And unfortunately, sometimes people give their lives for the advancement of technology. For science.”

  “You’re not doing it for the science,” Patrick says, walking toward his mom once again. “You’re doing it for the power. It was always about the power.”

  Cathryn swings the rifle back toward my dad and me. “Patrick, I swear—if you take another step, I’ll kill them both.”

  Patrick stops. From the way Cathryn’s hand is shaking and the fact that she’s already primed the rifle, there’s a possibility of that happening anyway.

  I back up, my hips hitting the gurney, my arms outstretched.

  “If you’re going to kill them, then you might as well kill me too,” Patrick breathes. “Because I will make sure the truth comes out.”

  “No one will believe you,” she says, keeping her finger on the trigger. “Everyone knows you’re an E-fiend. You were forced to leave your job because of it. Didn’t you see the press release?”

  “You can’t convince people I’m sick,” Patrick says.

  “Oh, really?” his mom asks. “I bet Regan would beg to differ.”

  She’s right. Even my own mother thought I was going crazy.

  “Killing them isn’t going to solve anything,” Patrick says, trying a different tack. “Elusion is over and Orexis is ruined.”

  “I’ll rebuild,” she says. “Orexis is a strong company. We’ll settle the lawsuits and come back stronger than before.”

  Her cold blue eyes lock on mine. “Regan, get out of the way,” she says. “Now.”

  “No,” I say, sounding a lot braver than I actually feel.

  “You can’t save him,” she insists. “It’s too late. The father you knew will never return, even if his body survives.” She closes her eyes for a second and then opens them, ready to shoot. “Your dad wouldn’t want you to sacrifice yourself. And neither would your mom. She barely survived the loss of your father. How will she continue without you?”

  The door squeaks open and Josh appears. Not seeing Cathryn, he steps into the room, his eyes focused on me before flicking toward my dad.

  Cathryn points the rifle at Josh, her finger on the trigger.

  She’s going to kill him.

  I race across the room and charge her, slamming us both against the wall.

  Patrick lunges for the rifle as Josh grabs Cathryn, yanking her away. I push myself up as Josh restrains Cathryn’s arms behind her back.

  Avery and Zoe burst into the room. As we all catch our breath, they survey the scene, astounded. “Now can I call the police?” Zoe murmurs.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Now would be good.”

&
nbsp; “Patrick,” Cathryn pleads. “Please. Don’t do this. You can still save me. You can still save us.”

  “You getting this?” Patrick asks Avery.

  “Oh yeah,” she says, her tab pointing in Cathryn’s direction. “AveryTruStory exclusive.”

  “You’re welcome,” Patrick says to Avery, knowing full well that she didn’t thank him. His eyes shift in my father’s direction, and his face fills with concern.

  I turn back toward my dad. His eyes are still unresponsive, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. I grab his wrist, once again checking his pulse.

  Nothing.

  I move the placement of my thumb as my own breath seems to get caught in my throat.

  There is no pulse.

  My dad is no longer breathing.

  Before I can say anything, Patrick is there, gently pushing me out of the way and pressing his hands on my dad’s frail chest as he begins CPR. I’m aware of voices around me, people shouting out commands and calls for help. Zoe’s hands on my shoulders, her voice telling me everything is going to be okay, as I stare at the man on the gurney.

  Breathe.

  Please just breathe.

  I touch my father’s watch, my fingers wrapping around the cool steel as if clinging to a lifeline.

  Finally, a sputter, then a cough, as my dad starts gasping for air. Patrick yanks the O2 shield off his belt and places it over my dad’s face.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I murmur, placing my hand on top of my dad’s.

  And then I feel it, his thumb lifting over mine.

  He’s coming back.

  NINETEEN

  Six months later

  If Avery doesn’t stop bossing me around, I think I’m going to scream. But then again, what did I expect? I knew this was a bad idea the moment Nora suggested it. The constant bickering between Avery and me over the summer had really begun to annoy her and Josh, so Nora decided a little alone time would help the two of us get along. But what I agreed to was clearly a huge mistake.

  Avery. Me. A kitchen. A cake. And now a knife.

  “What are you doing? Give that to me!” she says, wresting the knife out of my hands and nearly taking off my finger. She pulls the spatula out of the bowl and smooths the frosting across the cake gently. “This,” she says, pausing for effect, “is how it’s done.”