Cracked Open

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  Renell’s eyes are wide. “I never knew—”

  “No, I’d imagine not.” Aaliyah’s warm brown eyes sharpen. “Once the camps were disbanded, once nearly everyone above the age had gone through the change, it was like an embarrassment had fallen over all those who hadn’t been locked away. As if the existence of the people who had been interned were an unpleasant reminder of their own cowardice—one that had to be swept under a rug and forgotten. A thing that never happened. But Nia and I both knew why the other children stayed away from me. She had the purest heart.” Her eyes soften again as she steps over to lay a hand on Renell’s shoulder. “She would have told you some stories, baby. And she would have loved you just the same.”

  Renell seems to struggle for words. Then he says, “Thank you.”

  “Now,” Aaliyah pronounces, releasing him. “If your parents need a place to lay low for a spell, my Leo kept a cabin up in Wisconsin, deep in the woods, where literally no one but deer and muskrat ever visit. It’s not the North Shore, but it’s also secure in a way few cabins are.”

  “Is there room for a few more up there?” I ask. “Because my family might need a place to stay. Assuming I can get them free.” I don’t say I might have to join them. Assuming I can even get out of this thing with my mind still in one piece.

  Aaliyah smiles wide. “You know the answer to that, Zeph.”

  “Okay, good,” Scott speaks up. “We have a safehouse.” He faces Renell. “If they haven’t already grabbed your folks, you should come clean with them and move them out. Immediately.”

  Renell’s blinking and looking between Scott and me and Aaliyah, like he can’t believe we’re offering to help, much less have the semblance of an actual plan. Jiaying’s hanging out by the stairs, listening but keeping quiet. “I can’t be sure that they’ll go,” Renell says. “They might be… well, angry with me.”

  “You send them to me,” Aaliyah says, and it’s an order. “I’ll straighten them out.”

  Renell’s nodding now.

  A little relief washes through me. “Okay. So you’re not going to kill the president, right?”

  Renell nods again, but more cautiously. “I was supposed to slow down his heart—make it look like a heart attack. But anyone could do that.”

  “That’s a good point.” I frown. “Why have you there at all?”

  “Redundancy,” Scott says, face grim. “If Renell does it, it’s less likely to be detected. If he fails, then Ethan’s the backup.”

  Great. “So we’ve got to get Ethan to step down,” I say, knowing the utter futility of that. “But even if we did, that saves the president, but it doesn’t save me. Or my family. And let’s not forget Sammi’s still locked up in Tiller’s north wing dungeon somewhere, and he’s got some radical new anti-jacker tech he’s building for DARPA. This nightmare doesn’t go away, even if we all head up to Wisconsin. They’ll just get new jackers and try again and keep trying. We need a plan to shut these people down.”

  A hush falls over the room. Because if getting out of this is tough, taking all of DARPA’s secret jacker program down can be filed under Impossible. Especially with the threats Wright is holding over everyone’s families.

  I clear my throat. “Okay, priority number one is getting our families to safety. Renell, you talk to your parents and get them out of town. Scott, you have to get my mom and Olivia free. I don’t know how, but you’ve got access to the base and who knows what else. Find a way. And all of it has to be timed such that we catch Wright by surprise. She can’t know what we’re up to until it’s too late to stop it.”

  “How am I going to get them out of Great Lakes?” Scott complains.

  “How many jackers do you need?” I shoot back. “Because I’m sure I know a couple dozen in Jackertown who would be willing to help.”

  Scott’s eyebrows lift, and he gives me a slow nod.

  “I’ll work it out with Kira. Tell me how many people, what kinds of weapons, whatever you need. I’m sure Kira still has stuff from the JFA locked up somewhere.”

  “Now you’re talking, kid.” There’s real hope in his eyes. “But how are you going to wrap this around Wright’s neck and take her down with it?”

  I frown, and I’m about to say I have no idea… but then it comes to me. And it’s so obvious. Also tremendously dangerous. And probably very, very stupid.

  “What?” Renell says at the look on my face.

  “The night of the party, Wright expects us to attack the President of the United States.” A slow smile grows on my face. “But think about it. Who outranks Wright? Who’s the boss of the Secretary of Defense?”

  Renell’s eyes go wide.

  Scott’s nodding with a passion now. “You take it straight to the top.”

  “If we can get close enough to jack him,” I say, the enthusiasm lighting a fire in me now, “we can show him exactly who his friends are. And what his enemies are trying to do.”

  Aaliyah’s not saying anything, but her smile is all I need to know this plan has a chance. Or at the very least, it’s the right thing to do. Even if we all get caught, and everything goes sideways… we’ll have tried. And our families should be safe.

  “Can I help?” a small voice says from the corner. It’s Jiaying.

  Renell and Scott bust up in quiet snickers, but I don’t even crack a smile. Jiaying is a reader who’s been assaulted by a jacker. Someone who still isn’t willing to go home and face the judgment of small reader minds. She has to know how dangerous all of this is, plus Aaliyah’s Home is about to become the headquarters for this operation, which means a ton of jackers will be coming through all the time. Yet she wants to help.

  “Absolutely,” I say to her. Renell and Scott sober up and give me curious looks. I ignore them. “I can only do this if my family’s safe.” I nod to Renell. “And if Renell’s family is safe. Plus I still need to find a way to break Sammi Gray out of Tiller’s prison. We’re going to have Scott organizing an assault, jackers from the JFA coming and going, Aaliyah readying her safehouse and ferrying people there… all of that needs coordination. I can’t be here for any of it—I’m going to be full-time under Tiller’s thumb or Wright’s. I need to you to be my eyes and ears.” I give Jiaying a tentative smile. “We’ll need a code or something, in case our scrits get intercepted. But you’re going to be my lifeline in all this.”

  She comes out from where she was hiding, half around the corner leading up to the stairs. “I can do that.”

  I tip my head to her. “I know you can.”

  Renell and Scott are giving her nods. Aaliyah is beaming. Jiaying is officially on the team.

  I heave a big sigh. I can’t believe it, but this feels like it might actually work.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and swipe it open. SORRY I WAS AT A CAMPAIGN EVENT. NORTHWEST SUBURBS. AMAZING SUPPORT FOR KIRA HERE!

  It’s Tessa. And her scrit feels like a benediction on this whole crazy scheme.

  “I’ve got to go,” I say as I rise from the table. I scrit as I head out the door.

  CAN WE MEET?

  I’m already heading to wherever she is, so I hope the answer is YES.

  “Can we talk somewhere private?” I ask Tessa.

  We’re in the middle of her bustling temporary campaign headquarters in the suburbs. Volunteers are running around with scribepads and mini-screens. Kira’s mobbed with people holding up clothes for selection, a couple reporters barraging her with questions, and a rail-thin guy who seems to be perpetually swapping out her coffee cup. The room is just an empty shop that’s for sale in a tiny strip mall—I have no idea how Tessa found it, but she’s clearly running the show. She’s almost as besieged as Kira.

  “Hm?” She’s still manipulating the mindware interface on her phone. Then she looks up. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Can we talk?” And by talk, I mean kiss first, then talk. But I can’t do either one in the middle of her campaign vortex.

  “Sure.” She waits, then her
eyes pop wider. “Oh, right. Alone.” She scans over the heads of the crowd. Part of why it’s so chaotic is there’s no room—the shop is tiny. But she spies something and latches onto my shirt, towing me toward the back. I’d just as soon hold her hand, but readers don’t touch skin-to-skin unless they’re already doing a lot more than touching—not unless they want to get a lot of snickers and onlookers—so that will have to wait.

  We reach a door that swings open into a storage room at the back. It isn’t large—more like a closet with metal shelving racks along the walls. When she closes the door and turns back, I’m right there. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek, but it jolts her like she’s surprised.

  It takes a half-second, during which I’m having chest pains, but a smile gradually brightens her face. “I’m still not used to that.”

  “Kissing?” I’m not exactly used to it, either. But I’m a huge fan.

  “Kissing you.” She smirks and pockets her phone before reaching up around my neck.

  “Wait, what?” I lean back from her lip-seeking. “Is there other kissing going on?” I feel like I’m holding my heart in my hands, not just Tessa’s beautiful body.

  She laughs a little. “Will you link into my head already? This just doesn’t work as well without the thoughts.”

  So I do, and the thoughts in her head… I get busy kissing her like she wants, back up against the door we just came through, and don’t let up until we’re both dying for breath.

  “Okay, that’s better.” My words are ragged.

  Definitely my kind of break, she thinks with a smile.

  Then my heart aches because I can’t go anywhere with this—not now, and if I’m really unlucky, not ever. I forgo the kiss and bring her in for a full-body hug. I hold her a little too tight and a little too long, judging by the swirl of concern that’s rising up in her thoughts. What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you!

  I have to pull out of her head because that’s just making this harder. I lean back but still hold her propped gently against the door. “Things are a real mess. I’m going to try to fix it, but I need some help from the JFA. And I need you to make sure Kira knows what’s happened. In case I can’t come back.”

  “What do you mean can’t?” Her alarm hikes up.

  “As in I could be dead. Or locked up. Or forced to flee to Wisconsin.” I just lay it all out there, fast. I can’t linger with this. But her distress is killing me. “Aaliyah has a safehouse up there,” I rush out, hoping that will help. “She says it’s really secure.”

  Tessa’s retreating into the door, pulling away from me. Which also kills me. I want to tug her back into my arms, but it’s clear she doesn’t want that.

  “I want to know everything, Zeph. Everything you can tell me without…” She frowns, but I know what she means. She’s interacting with the public. Mindreaders. A stray thought could leak out and catch fire in the thought-rumor-mill that’s constantly swirling. Plus the press is constantly hanging around her and Kira.

  “I don’t have time to meet with Kira,” I say. “And besides, I want you to know. Just do your best to keep it quiet until… well, until it’s over.” Then I explain how there’s this high-profile jacking job the government wants me to do—something horrible, and it has to do with the election, but I don’t specify that it’s the president we’re targeting—but that I’m not going to do it. In fact, I’m going to try to put these people out of business. But meanwhile, I need to get my family free. I’ve got an ex-military guy in charge of the operation, but we will need whoever they’ve got in the JFA who has military training and is willing to be read in on this. Because this is dangerous stuff to know.

  “That would be Anna,” Tessa says. “And Hinckley. And from what I hear about the JFA, they had a lot of ex-military types. Something about getting purged from the ranks along the way. Like the government was all about using their jacking skills until the bigots came out and decided they had to go.” She’s getting riled, and I pretty much love her for it. She takes a calming breath. “Kira qualifies too, but no way am I letting her near any of this.”

  “No, she needs to focus on the campaign. It’s critical, Tess—absolutely critical—that she wins this, okay? Because we can’t have a guy like Simpson in the Senate.” With Wright willing to go as far as she is, then Simpson has to be even more of a threat than he appears.

  Tessa frowns. “We’ll do everything we can.”

  “I know.” I trail my fingers along the hair framing her face. Man, I want to kiss her again, but I’m already short on time. I need to get back to pick up Juliette. “This is going to take a couple days. I won’t be able to bug you with scrits about how beautiful you are or how I wish I was kissing you or anything like that.”

  Her eyes are lighting up. “Feel free to bug me with that stuff.”

  I smile, but it hurts. “I can’t blow my cover.”

  She frowns at that.

  “And whatever you hear on the news…” I swallow. “Just remember that I’m trying, okay? Me and my friends. We’re going to try to stop this thing, but if it doesn’t work, and you hear something on a tru-cast that sounds like… like maybe I’m the bad guy after all…”

  Her thin fingers quickly shush my lips. “You can’t be the bad guy, Zephyr MacCay,” she whispers, pulling me closer. “I’m not into bad boys. I like the good ones.” Then she kisses me again, and man, I’m lost in that kiss. It’s heating up every part of me while taking a vise to my heart. Because it’s not fair to finally have something like this only to have to risk losing it all.

  I kiss her back—thoroughly—then pull away before it gets too hard for me to keep it together.

  “I have to go,” I say softly. I nuzzle into her cheek. Her skin is so soft. She hugs onto me like she doesn’t want me to leave, and I just hold her for a bit. Then I pull back. “Don’t kiss any other guys before I get back.”

  There’s pain in those big brown eyes of hers. She just nods.

  “Or, you know, if I don’t come back…” The distress in her eyes forces me to say, “Well, just wait anyway, okay? Like possibly your whole life. Tragically and with lots of pining away. Or until you have conclusive proof of my death. An actual body, not just the government saying I’m dead because you can’t trust those guys.”

  She’s smiling through her tears now, which is the best I can do.

  I give her another kiss, but this one is fierce and short and bittersweet. I mumble my goodbye and tug her away from the door, so I can escape. I have to fight my way through the mayhem of the campaign HQ, but that just means no one really looks at me. Which is good. I catch Kira’s eye on the way out, give her nod, and keep going.

  Tessa will tell her everything she needs to know. Kira will figure out the rest.

  I feel like I’m coming apart inside, but a lot of deep breaths and a twenty-minute autolimo ride help me stitch it back together. At least well enough for appearances’ sake when I arrive at the school to pick up Juliette.

  “Do you have a plan for rescuing Sammi?” she asks immediately.

  I switch to broadcast mode—we’re alone in the autolimo, but we need to keep up the habit to maintain the ruse. No, sorry. And things have gotten a lot worse since I saw you this morning. I tell her everything—the party, the president, our plans to reveal everything to him. After all, she’s going to be there. I’m thinking we’ll bust Sammi out just before everything else goes down. That way, whatever our exit strategy, she can come with us. Plus, I’ve got to keep my cover with Tiller until the party, or everything falls apart.

  But what if he’s hurting her already? Her face is all squished up with worry.

  Then we’ll have to get her out sooner. I rub my hand over my face, trying to think this through. Okay, once we’re settled in your room, let’s make a plan. Maybe I can jack Richards to take us to her, and if she’s okay, we leave her, and I’ll wipe Richards’ memory of the whole thing. If she’s hurt, then I’ll get her out without blowing my co
ver. Not sure how that will work, but I’m making all of this up as I go.

  That mollifies her, and we lapse into quietly thinking about our own, respective problems. Juliette’s rumble of thoughts centers on Sammi. Mine are all over the map. I steer clear of thinking about Tessa because that’s a distraction I can’t afford right now. I’m a little surprised Tiller hasn’t already hunt me down today, demanding I return to the estate, but maybe he’s focused on other things. Like the fact that the President of the United States is coming to his palatial home in a couple days. Even for a guy like Tiller, that must be a big deal.

  Unfortunately, Juliette and I don’t get two steps inside the door before Richards intercepts us.

  Mr. Tiller wants a word with you, Zeph. He must have been watching for us, which makes me glad we came straight back. Even better, Richards isn’t wearing a helmet anymore. Which opens up all kinds of possibilities for getting Sammi out.

  All right. I give Juliette a small wave. I’ll see you up in your room, Jules. Soon, I promise. I’m glad touching isn’t an expected part of reader interactions, especially for lovers, which Juliette and I supposedly are. But I’m a lot better at faking this now that I have some clue about the real thing.

  Okay. She scowls at Richards. Tell my dad he’s a freak, and he needs to stop stealing my boyfriend away.

  Richards ignores her and just beckons me to follow.

  We stride quickly to Tiller’s office, but instead of traveling through the tunnel of death, Richards calls him, and Tiller comes out to meet us. He dismisses Richards and guides me down another labyrinthine of hallways that seem to skim the north wing but not enter it. We’re getting close to the front of the building when he scans us through a rugged set of steel doors. The same handprint technology gets us in, but now I’m wondering if this is access-only for Tiller… which means jacking Richards would be useless. No way to tell. When we step through the doorway, we pass through a shield, so we’re officially in the north wing.