Cracked Open

by Susan Kaye Quinn

Yeah, well, piss off! I’ve got Zeph to take care of me, and that’s all I need. Now disable that auto-lock on the door and let me go to school. I will not let you take away my last two days with my friends too. You’ve got what you want, now let us out.

  Tiller stares at her, but he’s thinking about it. Mulling whether locking us in for longer will solidify the relationship more or put us at each other’s throats. Of course, Juliette hears all of this. She just hurls more cursing at him while he thinks it through. This is how it is with readers. They think over each other, every thought open and honest and clear—the good and the horrific all mixed—and somehow they keep it all straight. I’ve had years of practice dealing with them so I can keep up, but I’m staying out of it. Plus Juliette is doing a masterful job of warring with her father without betraying any of our plans. Which, honestly, are half-formed at best.

  They come to some kind of agreement.

  All right, straight to school, then I want you back here, Tiller thinks. That’s directed at Juliette. For me, he adds, I want you to apologize to Aaliyah on my behalf and let her know I’ll be sending a crew to fix her door.

  Yes, sir, I link to him quickly.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket at the worst possible time—it catches Tiller’s attention, even though I nudge it off. He narrows his eyes. And I expect you back here after that. I want you on call for any other security related needs I might have. There’s a vague notion about Sammi, but Tiller quickly shoves that thought away for obvious reasons—Juliette’s standing right next to me. I want to go chasing after that thought—I want to probe the heck out of Tiller’s mind and find out exactly where Sammi is and a whole lot more—but I can’t risk him sensing it.

  Aaliyah sometimes has chores for me, I link quickly. Who knows how long DARPA’s going to keep me.

  Fine, Fine. He waves that off. But I want you back here when you’re done.

  Yes, sir.

  Juliette’s still steaming at him, a low rumbling stream of curse words covering any stray thoughts about Sammi. I’m impressed with her focus.

  Tiller scowls at her, but he reaches back through the doorway and taps something into a panel outside her door. I’ll see you after school. That’s for both of us. Then he turns on his heel and leaves the door open in his wake.

  Juliette and I wait until he’s down the hall enough to be out of thought range.

  She stops her cursing litany. We can hunt down Richards before school—

  I hold up a finger while I fish out my phone. We’ve got bigger problems at the moment. I swipe it open and just stare at the words.

  THEY’VE GOT THE KID. It’s another scrit from Scott.

  Olivia. Wright has Olivia. No, no, no—I’ve got to go. I start toward the door then whirl back and give Juliette a frantic wave. We’ve got to go. Now! Grab your backpack.

  She doesn’t hesitate, just dashes to the far side of the room, snags her bag, and races back. It’s everything I can do to not flat-out run through the estate. But I can’t make it look like we’re making a jailbreak.

  What’s happening? Juliette’s mind is in a panic, but she’s keeping it remarkably cool.

  It’s not Sammi, I reassure her. But the people I work for have Olivia.

  What? I thought she was—

  Let’s not think about it, okay? Let’s just focus on getting out of here.

  She’s on that like a champ, reverting back to inventing new curses to describe her father. She seems to have an endless supply in that regard, plus it works well for the situation. We’re hustling, and we reach the front without running into Tiller. However, Richards stops us at the door.

  Tiller wants you to stay close. That’s mostly directed at me.

  My father said we could go to school! Now get the hell out of—

  Richards calmly grabs hold of her arm and presses a small silver device to it.

  Hey! Juliette’s eyes go wide, and she flinches. What the hell? Richards! She yanks back out of his grip, holding her arm where he just shot her with something.

  What are you doing! I demand from Richards, shoving him away from her, which is like giving a good hard push to a brick wall. But it’s over before I even had time to react. I turn back to Juliette. Are you okay?

  Yeah. She’s sending death glares to Richards.

  He looks like he’s hiding a smile. Daddy wants to know where you are.

  Juliette growls her frustration at him then whirls away and jogs down the steps to the waiting autolimo. I hurry after her. I don’t link anything to her until we’re inside, pulling away from the curb, and out of range of Richards, who just watches us from the front door.

  Tracker? I ask.

  She’s so pissed her face is turning red. Don’t worry. I’ll disable this one, just like the last. I just have to get back to my lab. Gah! He’s such a bastard!

  Richards or your father?

  Both!

  I can’t disagree with that. But I’ve got more important things to attend to. I whip out my phone as the autolimo zips out of the estate and onto the public road.

  OKAY I’M CLEAR, I scrit to Scott. MEET ME AT AALIYAH’S.

  I pocket my phone again, but a moment later, it’s buzzing.

  I’M BEHIND YOU.

  I jerk around to look out the back window, and sure enough, there’s an unmarked white autovan following us.

  Is that them? Juliette asks, wide-eyed.

  Yeah. My phone buzzes again. PULL OVER.

  Crap. I jack into the autolimo’s mindware interface and instruct it to pull over. Then I turn to Juliette. I’ve got to go. You need to go to school like normal then send the autolimo to Aaliyah’s. I’ll return there when I’m done.

  Are you sure about this? She’s biting her lip.

  No, I’m not sure. But I need her to follow the plan while I figure out how to get my sister away from Wright. It’ll be fine. And when you get out of school, we’ll have to go back to the estate anyway. By then, I’ll have a plan to get Sammi free. I hope.

  She nods her agreement.

  I climb out of the autolimo and pray that Scott has a plan to fix all this.

  Because I’m fresh out of ideas.

  Scott looks as haggard as I feel.

  I climb into the front seat of the autovan, and it takes off immediately. “Tell me Olivia’s okay,” I demand.

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” He grimaces.

  “Meaning, you don’t know.” I heave a sigh. “How in the world did Wright get ahold of her?”

  Scott’s eyes squint up, making the dark circles under them even darker. “She walked in, Zeph.”

  I tip my head back and slump against the seat. “Oh, crap.”

  “It’s worse than Oh, crap.” He glowers. “You were supposed to keep her contained.”

  I snap my head up and throw my hands out. “Have you ever tried telling a fourteen-year-old girl what she can’t do? Especially when she’s your sister?”

  Scott just squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head like I’m an idiot.

  “It’s not like I could chain her up.” Although I’m kicking myself, hard, on the inside. Because I know exactly why she left—she was pissed. At me, specifically. And if I’d had any sense, I would have done a better job of telling her about our mom. “I knew she might bolt,” I admit. “But going back to Wright?” That feels like a kick to the gut.

  “Does she know I helped?” Scott’s biting off the words as they come out. And of course this is bad for him if Wright finds out, but that’s the least of my problems.

  “No.” I rub my temples with both hands. My headache is just getting worse. I turn in the seat to face him. “But if you want your part kept quiet, you need to help me get her back. My mom, too. Because Tiller knows where she is and wants to use his new jacker-torture-conversion on her. And if that happens, I’ll be ripping apart minds, and I do not care whose.”

  He gives me a slightly scared look, which is about the most fear I’ve ever seen on his face. “You can’t just blaze in
there, Zeph. They’ll kill you. And then they’ll do whatever they want to your mother and your sister. You understand that, right?”

  The fury is boiling in me. “Yeah. I get it. Which is why you have to help me.”

  He grimaces and stares out the front window.

  “You’re dirty in this, Major,” I say, my anger rising. “Inhibitors. Secret jacker experimentation. Turning jacker kids into weapons. You are dirty all the way down, and if my family gets hurt in this, I’m going to know exactly who to blame.”

  “Okay, okay.” He looks grumpy more than threatened. I can rip apart his mind, but I’m not the thing he’s most afraid of—I suspect that’s Wright. My threats don’t compare to hers because Scott already knows I care too much. I’m a decent person. I won’t hurt people unnecessarily.

  Wright is none of those things.

  “You need to settle down and focus, kid. We’re almost there.” He’s back to looking haggard again like something is haunting him. Something worse than all the haunting things I already know about.

  I glare at him. “I’m listening.”

  “That thing I said was going down?” he says. “The thing she wants you for? This is it. And I want to help you, kid.” At my skeptical look, he adds, “Whatever. Don’t believe me. But it’s been nothing but a downward spiral ever since Wright yanked me out of that hellhole overseas. I almost wish I’d died over there. At least, I would have died clean. And this level of dirty is never coming off. I know that. But I don’t know if I can help you. Do you understand? I want to… but I don’t know if I can. So you need to play this cool until we know what’s going down. Then, maybe, we can find a way to stop her.”

  “We?” That gives me the tiniest glimmer of hope.

  “You and me,” he says with a grimace. “That’s all the we there is right now.”

  I nod. “Okay. Fine.” We’re about to pull into the Great Lakes Naval Station where DARPA’s secret jacker division resides, and where Wright’s keeping my mother prisoner. “Does Wright have Olivia here at the base?”

  “Yeah. Not sure where, though.” The autovan passes through the arch and winds toward the back of the base.

  “And does she know that I know?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll lead with that.” Scott sighs. “That’s her hold on you. She’ll play it hard. Don’t believe all of it. She’s out to scare you.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m scared.” I scowl as the autovan comes to a stop outside a large, brick building. There are no markings. “It’s not like Wright doesn’t follow through on her threats.”

  He holds me back from getting out with an outstretched arm. “Wright does exactly what serves Wright. Remember that.”

  I nod. And I’m strangely comforted by his warnings. Even more strange—I believe he wants to help. I understand that feeling, like the blood isn’t on your hands, but on your soul. Immutable. Impossible to erase. Then you have a choice—either you become like Wright or you fight the Wrights of the world.

  Scott has decided to fight. Which means we’re on the same side.

  We cut the chatter as we walk up to the building, and Scott swipes us in. I note that he has access to a lot of things I don’t… and that could be vital. There’s a short entranceway that leads to a tall set of double doors made of highly polished steel. Halfway to that, in the middle of the entrance, sits a large metal archway—a weapons detector—and a full-camouflage-decked soldier standing next to it. His shiny black assault rifle is pointed at the floor, trigger discipline keeping his finger at a relatively safe location. He’s got an anti-jacker helmet, and whatever’s past the doors is shielded.

  Scott offers up his passkey. The soldier takes it, pockets it, then produces a small black tube from the assortment of weapons strapped to his body. He passes a blue-light scanner across Scott’s face then reads something on the tube.

  He pockets that then raises his weapon to point dead-center at Scott’s chest. “Step through the scanner, sir.” I’m convinced he’ll shoot Scott—and probably me—if the scanner arch so much as beeps.

  I hold my breath as Scott passes over the threshold, hands in the air.

  The soldier tips his head for me to follow.

  I manage to not get shot as I pass through.

  The soldier lowers the muzzle and clicks something on the side of his anti-jacker helmet. “Guest Number Three has arrived.” He gives a nod to Scott.

  A moment later, one of the double doors swings open, and another well-armed soldier stands on the threshold, also in an anti-jacker helmet. He gets visual confirmation from the soldier who just weapons-checked us then steps aside so we can pass through, one at a time. The shield skitters an electric sensation across my scalp as I cross over.

  The room inside is massive. I’m pretty sure it’s the entire building we saw from the front—two stories and a hundred feet on either side. The first quarter is all-black—ceiling, walls, and floor—and covered with a grid of blue lights about a two-foot square. Beyond that is a mirage—at least, that’s what my brain says because what my eyes are seeing doesn’t make sense. It’s like three-quarters of the building is actually a window to Tiller’s backyard. I only caught a glimpse that one time, but it’s not the kind of thing you forget. Massive infinity pool curving around like a small harbor. Pristine white lawn furniture and large silver orbs that sit randomly on the lawn like a giant dropped his marbles. There are two swim-up bars on either side and a huge forty foot screen at the back that partially obscures the view of the lake. It’s like I’m looking through a portal at Tiller’s extravagant oasis, but that can’t be true, despite the place being lit up like DARPA owns an indoor sun.

  I actually put my hand to my face to make sure I haven’t put on goggles. It’s the most realistic virtual I’ve seen outside of a game booth.

  “Mr. MacCay.” That crisp, slightly-British accent sends an automatic chill up my spine.

  I have to fight to get my eyes to focus on the dimly lit section of the cavernous room. As I do, I see that Wright isn’t the only one in the room with Scott and me. Ethan, the jacker whose mind I cracked open and reconfigured into a reader, lurks behind her, arms folded. He’s wearing a white shirt and black tie, the kind the staff at Tiller’s estate wear. That instantly sends my mind into overdrive—so much so that I almost miss that Renell is here, too. He’s dressed in the standard upscale silk shirt and slacks he seems to always wear, but his face is more gaunt than I remember, and his gaze is skittish, bouncing around the room. In the shadows off to the side are two older men in suits.

  “Now that you’re here,” Wright says, “It’s time to read you in on your first mission. Then you can join Ethan and Renell in training in the simulator.”

  “Mission?” I say weakly. I like no part of this.

  “Unless you’d rather I trained your sister for this.” Her voice is pure ice.

  Check. And mate.

  “No.” I straighten. “But as long as we’re negotiating…” I can see her stiffen, even in the darkened low light of this prep area. I gesture to the brilliant virtual backyard. “Whatever this is, when I’m done with it, I’m done with you. I want my family back. And I want nothing to do with you ever again.”

  “That’s fine.” She says it so simply and so easily that I’m just sure I’ve heard her wrong.

  “You’ll release them?” I flick a look at Scott, and suspicion is alive on his face as well.

  “I said yes.” She’s impatient now. “We only have three days to get ready for this, Mr. MacCay. Shall we move on?”

  My mouth hangs open for a moment, then I shut it. This is too easy. Way too easy. But what choice do I have? I grimace and say, “Okay. What do you want from me?”

  “It’s fortunate you’d already proven your skills with Ethan before your sister made her reappearance,” she says casually. “Otherwise, I might doubt you were of use.”

  I ignore that, whatever it means. “Where is Olivia? Did you hurt her?”

  She wrinkles her nose
in disgust. “No, of course not. She’s resting comfortably. At your mother’s apartment, if that will allow you to focus on the task at hand.”

  Actually, it does. “Okay. What happens in three days?”

  Wright beckons me closer to the simulation. She walks with me while Renell and Ethan and the two unidentified men stay in the shadows. I’m assuming they already know the mission. Scott stays close at my back as we emerge into the light.

  “In three days,” Wright says, “the President of the United States will visit Mr. Tiller’s estate and attend a party.”

  “The President of the United States,” I say slowly, the horror of this unfurling in my mind. What in the name of all that’s good does Wright want me to do?

  “Need I remind you yet again of the stakes, Mr. MacCay?” Wright asks, coolly.

  It’s clear there’s only one answer to that. “No.”

  “Good,” she says sharply. “I need to know I can depend on you to carry out your part of the mission. I’m willing to raise the stakes if necessary.”

  Again, the answer is clear. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Excellent.” She’s drilling her gaze into me. “I wouldn’t bother with you at all, Mr. MacCay, but you have somehow managed to be the exact right person in the right place, right now.”

  Just my luck. “How’s that?”

  “You’ve continued to convince Mr. Tiller you are a reader.” She arches her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “Information I didn’t correct when he came inquiring about your mother. I allowed him to believe we would release your mother to him when we were finished with her. However, rest assured, she is safe in my care until you complete your mission.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why would you do that?”

  Scott edges up closer. He’s scrutinizing the layout, but I catch a slight nod of approval from him. So… I’m asking the right questions.

  Wright’s expression stays cool. “Because I wish to ensure your compliance. You can uniquely get inside the Tiller estate, for this particular event, past any security designed to stop jackers. And you can get Ethan in as well.”

  I frown and flick a look back into the darkness. “You want me to smuggle in Ethan.”