It seemed so odd. Such a slow way of learning.
Apps sped life up, changing things constantly, updating and altering people and objects so they were no longer recognizable. Icons whizzed by your ears and eyes and bumped up against you, but here everything just waited there, solid and patient, for you to notice it.
I sat down on the floor, the smooth stone underneath me, stretched out my legs, and rested my back against a tightly packed shelf. I plucked the first book from the top of a nearby pile and weighed it in my hands. It was heavy, the cover hard enough that I could knock on it like it was made of wood. Then I remembered it was made of wood.
Across the spine, the words The Subtle Knife were stamped in gold.
I opened it.
There were so many pages packed together. I couldn’t imagine having to read them all, one by one. I ran my hand across the paper. It was creamy and soft, not at all like the sharp edges of an information download hitting the brain. I flipped forward and there they were, more words, hundreds of them strung together in line after line. I pulled the scarf from my face and began to read aloud. “‘And Lyra realized with a jolt of sickness what was happening: the man was being attacked by Specters.’” I started at the name. Specter. Brought the book closer. Read on as this demon-like creature sucked the soul out of a man until he was lifeless, though not dead. Cut the spark right out of his eyes.
Maybe that was how Emory Specter got his name.
A man who severed us from our bodies until all the spark from our minds had gone out, as though the soul was always a virtual thing that didn’t need the body, that could be projected elsewhere and still thrive.
“Excuse me,” said a voice from above.
Two feet were planted on the floor next to me. Black, thick-soled boots. The book in my hands fell to the ground with a thump. I looked up. My instincts had been right. My mind and my body did know how to find things, find people, even when I wasn’t trying, even when it was my family I wanted instead.
Rain Holt was standing there, staring down at me.
Nearly all my memories of Rain from the App World were of him hanging out with people like Lacy Mills or Lila Dellman, living his ridiculous, rich-boy life. But I did have one other one—a single experience that was different from the rest. It nagged at me now.
I’d been gaming at the time. I’d downloaded the Mount Everest App, partly because it required so little capital and partly because I loved climbing. Originally, it was supposed to be this wildly popular Adventure App, but it ended up a spectacular failure. Reaching the summit took perseverance and a willingness to be alone with your thoughts. Getting to the top might offer a thrill, but the getting there made people give up. Plus, it was snowy and dark a lot. That’s why the App was so cheap.
One time I was picking my way through the snow and ice on the side of the mountain, careful to manage my breathing, when I saw that I wasn’t alone.
There was a boy up ahead.
I was surprised to see someone. In an attempt to fix the existential-angst problem of the App, the designers made it so you could scale the mountain with other people. You’d see whoever else was playing at the same time as you. Even this update wasn’t enough to save the game, and I almost never saw anyone else when I was in it.
He was all bundled up, sitting on the very tip of this ice ledge that stuck out from the mountain, his legs dangling over an abyss so vast and deep that if he slipped—even though it was just an App—the drop alone would definitely rattle his code for a good long while. I was afraid to startle him, so I stayed put. I figured I’d wait until he came down from the ledge before heading past. I didn’t mind. The sky was a bright, cold blue, and the sun reflected off the snow and ice in such a way that all the nearby mountains were shining. After a while, I began to wonder if the boy was thinking of jumping. Suicide was impossible in the App World, but there were approximations of it, and word got around when people tried. But eventually, the boy got up and moved away from the edge of the ice, and finally, off the ledge altogether.
He stopped when he saw me there.
We nodded at each other as he passed, and that’s when I realized two things.
The boy was Rain Holt—there was no doubt about it. I’d recognize him anywhere, even buried under all that gear. To meet up with him in a game like this was startling enough, but it was the second thing that surprised me even more.
His eyes were wet with tears.
Then he went on his way and I went mine.
Rain paled as he took me in, sitting there on the floor. His face flickered with recognition.
My memories of him warred with one another. The Rain I knew best—that all of us knew best—was the playboy prince. But I couldn’t shake that other boy I’d seen on the mountain. Technically, it was only one tiny instance against the backdrop of so many other things. Yet there was something that made it significant at this very moment, here in the library. Maybe it explained more about Rain than all the other memories combined. I’d never told Inara about meeting him in the game, partly because I knew she’d roll her eyes and say the opportunity was wasted on me, that she should be so lucky as to meet Rain alone like that. But even telling my best friend seemed wrong. I had no allegiance to Rain, but I could tell when I’d witnessed something private.
Rain’s eyes darted everywhere before he crouched down next to me. “What are you doing here?” he hissed in a tone that said it was Rain the Crown Prince in front of me.
I felt a flicker of disappointment. “How about we start with introductions? I’m Skylar Cruz,” I said overly politely. “And you’re Rain Holt.”
There was a stack of books in Rain’s arms and he set them aside. I saw how Rain’s eyes were big and green, with brown flecks, like the grass and the earth.
“You shouldn’t even be in this world,” he said.
I jerked backward, stung. The pads of my fingers pressed hard into the cold floor, as though I could push through it. “I’m here in this world because of you,” I told him. “I’m supposed to convince you to go back to the App World,” I added, nearly choking on this absurd string of words.
Rain started, seemed repulsed by my mention of home. He turned away, staring down the length of the aisle. “Lacy doesn’t get to decide my future.”
I blinked at him. “You know about Lacy?”
Rain shifted, his eyes sweeping all around us. “Your Keeper is crazy to let you out,” he answered, avoiding my question.
I lifted my chin. “My Keeper doesn’t know where I am.”
Rain’s brow furrowed. His lips parted slightly. He shifted closer, until his face, his mouth, was only inches from mine. He studied me, as though he was looking for something in my face.
Maybe there was something wrong with it.
“If your Keeper didn’t send you, then how—” Rain started, when someone passed through the aisle. He put a finger to his lips. “Let’s go somewhere private,” he whispered. Then he held out his hand to help me up off the floor. Stretched his fingers toward me. “It’s not safe for us to talk here.”
I stared at him. Rain Holt, the real Rain Holt, was offering to take my hand. This should be happening to Inara. Someone who could appreciate the gesture.
But it was happening to me.
“Come on,” he said, impatient. “And cover your face.”
Reluctantly, I pulled the scarf across my nose and mouth and slid my hand into his. Rain’s palm was warm with the heat of the day, but something about his skin sent a shiver through me. The touch was over in a second. When I was standing he let go, beckoning me to follow.
“Tell me something first,” I began, choosing my next words carefully. “When you said I shouldn’t be in this world, what did you mean?”
Rain turned back, his eyes on me. They traveled from my toes over my legs and torso up to my face. Then he cleared his throat. “My father was the one who planted the idea with Lacy to unplug. He knew he could use her. Lacy is . . . lonely. And more complicated th
an you might imagine.”
As we stood there, watching each other, I considered Rain’s words about Lacy, how I’d seen glimpses of another Lacy underneath all that meanness, a version of Lacy I might even be able to relate to someday. I nodded at Rain in reply. Wondered how much history he and Lacy really shared.
“The mind is easy to hack when you’re the Prime Minister,” Rain went on, returning to the subject of his father, his voice hushed. “A lot of things are easy, like communicating with your son between worlds and trying to get him to come home.” He dropped this like it should be obvious. “Lacy got in touch with you because that’s what my father wanted,” he added. “Because he needed you for his plans, too.”
I shook my head. That the Prime Minister would need Lacy seemed plausible, but that he would need me seemed outlandish. “You make it sound like I’m supposed to be here.”
Rain looked away. He shifted from one foot to the other. “Skylar, my father sent you to this world to die.”
I tried to swallow. My throat was full of dust. “Your father wanted me dead?”
Slowly, he turned back. “Not exactly. It was more . . . he knew that unplugging would likely lead to your death.” There was apology in his eyes. “That you’re still alive is unexpected. I’ve wondered if my father is relieved or more concerned about the repercussions of it.” He drew in a deep breath and continued on. “Me and some of the other seventeens went to the cliff that day to see if we could help, but when we got there, you were already in the process of rescuing yourself.” The way Rain stared now, with approval, maybe even admiration, seemed to shine a light on me.
This Rain reminded me of the boy from the mountain.
I suddenly understood what Inara meant when she talked about the power he held over her. I could see it so clearly, how this could happen, how he could do that to a girl. I did my best to shake it off. I didn’t like the thought of being under Rain Holt’s spell. I had my family to find, and I didn’t need to get caught up with the boy whose father apparently wanted to kill me.
But when again Rain said, “Come with me and we’ll talk,” and extended his hand, this time I didn’t hesitate. I reached back and let him take mine into his.
Gently he pulled me forward.
Rain took me to a room with a sign outside that said Rare Books Collection. The smell was musty and old. More dusty books were packed floor to ceiling. It felt like we’d traveled back to another time. There was a table at the center of everything.
I pulled out a chair and sat down. Stared at the rough wood. “I saw your father before I unplugged during Odyssey. The same game where I saw you.” I raised my eyes to meet Rain’s. “It wasn’t my imagination. That really happened.”
Rain nodded.
“What does your father have against me? I’ve never done anything to hurt him.” I wanted to add, or hurt anyone, but that wasn’t true anymore, so I swallowed those words back.
Rain leaned against the table. His fingers curled around the edge. There were cuts and scrapes along his skin. “His original intent wasn’t to hurt you. But it became clear that if you were allowed to unplug, you’d be in danger. That you probably wouldn’t make it through . . . the process.” Rain ran a hand down the side of his face. He suddenly seemed tired. “What you did on the cliff surprised everyone.”
I closed my eyes a moment. “I wanted it not to be real. I was hoping it was a dream.” I slumped in the chair and thought back to that first day. The dais, the audience, the dive into the water. I remembered the feel of Rain’s arms pulling me into the boat. My wet hair soaking his shirt through. “I thought I was in a game. I thought I was still between worlds.”
Rain’s lips were a straight line, his brow furrowed. “Adrenaline is a powerful thing. When it kicks in, it allows the body to do all sorts of things it’s supposedly not capable of doing.” His eyes held mine. “But it still doesn’t add up. You shouldn’t have been able to find your way to me today without the Keeper telling you where I am, either.”
I got up and went to the wall of shelves behind me. A row of books covered in animal skins—leather, I think it used to be called—stared out at me, and I shivered with disgust. I ran a finger across their spines and it came away black with dust. “I killed someone,” I whispered. “Was it adrenaline that helped me stab a guard in the heart?”
Rain stood behind me. “You did what you had to,” he said. “If you hadn’t stabbed that guard, you might not have survived. We barely got to you in time.”
“You keep saying we. Who’s we?” I asked. “Are you a New Capitalist?”
“No,” he responded forcefully, the single word echoing against the bookshelves. “At first they wanted me on their side.” Rain adjusted the neck of his shirt. The heat was stifling. “They showed you to me once, while you were plugged in. Left me there with you so I could consider their plans. That must have been when you were playing Odyssey. I was standing there when you opened your eyes. It was like you knew I was with you.” The tired look fell away from Rain’s face. “Like you’d woken from the plugs, but without anyone unplugging you first.” Rain hesitated. “My father wanted to make an example of you.”
I wrapped my arms around my head and groaned in frustration. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m just a Single. Singles don’t matter to anyone.”
Rain’s eyes were sad. “Not here,” he said. “And in the Real World you’re important to the New Capitalists. To those of us who are against them. People know who you are, Skylar.”
I placed both hands flat against the table and leaned into them for support. Looked up at Rain. “Is that why I was up on that cliff with all of those people watching? Is something wrong with me?” I thought about what I’d seen before entering the library, a chill flowing across my skin. “Are there guards looking for me? On my way here, they were marching down the streets, checking people. There was this girl. They made her take off her scarf and she . . . she looked like me.” I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my middle.
Rain’s eyes bored into me. “What happened on the cliff was a public event. A celebration thrown by the New Capitalists. All of New Port City was there.”
I swallowed. “The whole city?”
He nodded. “Yes. They, ah, they came in shifts.” He put out a hand to steady me, as though he expected I might fall. “The New Capitalists struck a deal with Emory Specter. It has to do with the plugged-in bodies. The Race for the Cure.” Rain looked at me like I should understand what he meant by now, but I didn’t. Not at all. I couldn’t speak. “You were chosen as their example,” he went on. “They needed a body to display, a body that was symbolic of their deal with the App World. You were up on that dais because the New Capitalists put you on exhibit.”
The room seemed to spin. “I was an exhibit?”
“You asked before if there was something wrong with you, but there’s nothing wrong, Skylar,” he said. “Haven’t you looked in the mirror? Seen the real you?”
I nodded. “I did. Today.”
“So then you know,” Rain said.
I raised my shoulders in a single shrug. “Know what?”
Rain looked at me like the answer should already be obvious. “That you’re beautiful,” he said simply.
I laughed. “Me?” I thought about what I’d seen in the mirror this morning. The only remarkable thing had been that the girl looking back at me was real. I shook off Rain’s comment. “Even if I was, what would beauty have to do with anything?”
“Everything.” Rain gripped my arm. He watched me as he spoke. “There are markets for bodies overseas, and the New Capitalists are about to launch the first one of its kind here. The deal with Specter allows them to sell the bodies of the plugged-in to boost the economy. Yours was to be the first.” Rain hesitated a moment. Then, “Skylar,” he went on, “they were going to auction you to the highest bidder.”
20
Negotiations
THE BLOOD SEEMED to drain from my body. It rushed toward the bo
ttoms of my feet. My eyelashes were wet against my cheeks. “I can’t breathe,” I said. The walls were closing in. I shook off Rain’s hand. It felt as though someone had downloaded an illegal Torture App into my mind. The door was right in front of me and in one second I would open it and be through. All I wanted was to get out of this musty room.
But Rain got there first. “If you go out like that, people might recognize you. It’s too dangerous.”
I stood there, frozen. Now I understood why the Keeper didn’t want me outside, why she was so reluctant to allow Rain to see me. She was protecting me from what he might reveal, saving me from people who wanted to sell me for profit. Guilt flowed through me like a download. She must be so worried. I slunk back to my chair.
Rain joined me at the table. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re not alone. Your Keeper has sworn to protect you.” Rain leaned forward. “And there’s me, Skylar, and the other seventeens. We’ll keep you safe. Hidden.”
I sat there a moment, contemplating this. “What if I don’t want to stay hidden?”
He frowned. “You heard what I said. Imagine what the New Capitalists would do if they found you.”
I looked Rain in the eyes. “I know you have your own agenda, but you need to understand that I have one, too.” The wheels were turning in my mind. “The New Capitalists were going to sell me to the highest bidder, which is not only utterly ridiculous, it’s criminal.” I shook my head in disgust. “What more information could I possibly need to realize I’m against them and everything they stand for?”
Rain opened his mouth, then closed it again. The air rushed from his lungs. He seemed to be debating something. “But it’s not that simple,” he began. “There are things you don’t . . .” He trailed off, uncertain.
Unplugged Page 18