One more time I punch the numbers, this time swapping the last two digits. The handle finally turns. I’ve only just pulled Chloe inside and shut the door when the hallway comes to life in a green glow that buzzes along the doorjamb.
The shouting ceases. We hover motionless, listening as feet shuffle nearer.
A door rattles loudly and we both jump, a small squeak escaping Chloe’s lips. I grab her hand to steady her. She’s trembling. A second later another door rattles, and I realize someone is checking handles. Quietly, carefully, I reach out and press the lock button—
Our own door shivers in its frame as someone pulls on it violently. Chloe has stopped trembling—and by the look of her, stopped breathing.
Through the barrier, a gravelly voice swears.
“Did they run?”
“Must have,” replies another. “The suites are locked tight.”
Another series of curses, then— “All right, I’ll go after them. Help Patterson and Varma to the Sick Bay before we have a panic on our hands.”
Footsteps disperse in opposite directions. Once the sounds have gone I collapse against the wall, my whole body suddenly limp. That blackout just saved our lives. Did Romie finish the EMP? I wonder if he’s responsible. At least we know the cameras will be down for a little while.
For a time the room is disturbed only by our gasping. I squint at the lumpy shapes, an eerie sense of aversion tugging at me.
Once, this room felt safe to me. In spite of the pressure to share my thoughts, despite my discomfort, it represented a space where someone cared. Now I see it for what it really is—a pretty interrogation chamber designed to draw out secrets and manipulate minds. The very opposite of what therapy should be.
Chloe is eyeing the room as well, looking troubled.
“This is Shiffrin’s suite,” she says.
“Yeah.”
She seems to fight off a shiver.
“That was close,” she whispers. “Way too close.”
“I’m just glad I caught up with you, or it could have been a whole lot worse,” I say.
To my surprise, this seems to agitate her. She grabs my arm.
“Lizzy, you shouldn’t have come out of hiding. Everyone is looking for you. Doctor Meng made an announcement. He told everyone you had that virus they made up and everyone went nuts, scared they might have it. He said the virus could be deadly if left untreated.” She takes a breath and lets it out slowly. I can sense the same fear she felt for me the first time I was nearly captured. “Of course, Meng was quick to calm everyone down, making promises of an antidote. But I’m glad you weren’t in the theater. You would’ve been trampled.”
The room seems to crystalize as I remember the wild fear, the way cadets were almost violent in their attempt to get away from me. And those memories lead me back to Noah.
I realize I have to tell her. Right here and now. Because if I don’t do it before we regroup with others, Terra will. Because when we enter the Helix and corner Dosset, we’ll find Noah too. And he might not remember who we are. I can’t let her walk into that blind. After everything I’ve already put her through, everything I’ve kept from her. This is the least I can do.
“They didn’t trample me,” I say slowly. “Actually, they all seemed pretty desperate to get away from me.”
“What?” She turns to look at me in the soft, emerald light. “What are you talking about?”
“A group of Xeris picked me up and dumped me in the theater with Noah. Doctor Hitch made that same announcement. One of the cadets noticed me.”
I watch as my words work their effect, creasing her features in confusion. Suddenly I can’t bear to do it. My eyes begin vainly searching for a Stitch, but Chloe steps in front of me.
“Okay, well, obviously you got away…” Her voice wavers.
“Noah fought Sarlow,” I whisper. “And I got away. Barely.”
“He… he fought—?”
“They got him, Chloe.” My voice catches. “They took him into the Helix.”
It’s in that moment I know I was right to hide things from her. To keep secret the possibility of Earth’s fate, to hide Noah’s feelings. Because just this bit of information is almost enough to break her.
I can see it in her eyes; I watch the mirror of her spirit crack as she quickly makes the same calculations I made. Grasps what it means that Dosset has him. I hurry to tell her about the plan to move forward, but it’s not enough. Chloe can hardly breathe.
Her feet give out from under her as I guide her into a chair.
“We… we have to go now,” she stammers. The look on her face is chilling. It reminds me of Atkinson when he told me his memories had been taken. “They’ll erase his… his memories.”
“I know,” I say. “We’re going to break into the Helix in an hour. We’ll get him out, and if they erased anything, we’ll use a Stitch to put it right back.”
But I can’t calm her down. She’s always been the soothing one, the one to disarm even the worst situations. And I’m not her. Even though here, in this moment, I have to be.
She’s practically hyperventilating.
“What if they erase it all, Liz? Like Atkinson. Or what if it kills him like it could have done to you? Or what if they put him into cryosleep, and we fail, and I never see him again? We have to get him back before it’s too late!”
“Look at me.” I take her gently by the face, pulling from her own caring nature. “Chloe, hey. Look at me.”
Finally, she turns her dilated pupils to meet mine.
“We won’t lose him. If we bring Dosset down and give back everyone’s memories, we’ll get him back. Noah is too strong to end up like Atkinson. Okay? We need to make sure our plan succeeds. We’ll see him again in just a few hours, and we’ll make it all go back to normal.”
“But—”
“Trust me. It’s going to be fine.”
It’s strange, telling her that. Because it’s a lie. It might not be fine. But I guess I’ve gotten used to lying. I guess I’ve learned that sometimes the truth is simply too much. And right now I have to believe that it’ll all work out in the end.
I’m saying it for both of us.
It takes several swallows for the lump in her throat to go down.
“What do we do first?” she breathes.
“I’m thinking that somewhere in this room is a Stitch. You and I need to find it.”
I begin opening drawers at random. I find a first-aid kit, a plastic cylinder of mint tea, an empty box with a latch. For some reason, I have the general sense that it once held Verced.
Chloe starts moving too, checking mostly bare shelves. One carries a picture of a young man with brooding features, another holds a model of Earth. But before long she grows listless, chewing at her nails with a worried expression. If we had time, I might have her sit and make some tea. But we don’t.
I pull open another empty drawer. Does Shiffrin even leave the Stitch in here? Maybe not. Maybe she has to remove it, so she can download new memories into the bank. I’m not willing to accept that. Because if it’s true, the Stitch could be inside the Helix. Could even be on Noah’s head, right now.
When I reach the final cabinet, it sticks. But there’s no keyhole. I run my fingers beneath it and they scuttle over the buttons of a numeric keypad.
I allow myself a small, brief smile.
“Think I’ve got it,” I say to Chloe, trying to sound encouraging. “I just need to remember the code and we’ll be out of here.”
She doesn’t answer. I turn my attention back to the cabinet.
Okay. Just one more code.
It’s doubtful that Shiffrin would’ve shared access to something like this with one of her cadets. Which means if I know the code at all, it’ll be coming from the doctor’s own memories. The problem is, the only memory I’ve ever pulled from a doctor was Atkinson’s, and that was almost nothing. Still, I have to try.
I hold my breath in an attempt to focus, aware as always of the
dim throbbing at the back of my head. Then I sink into the memories, diving toward where it’s cold and dark. I reach out for something to grasp, for anything that might help me. But I come up empty-handed.
Again, harder this time, I push lower, deeper. Yet my mind has gone as quiet as one of the Martian moons, immobilized by the trauma of the day. The suite whirls in muted colors, making me dizzy. I slump into Shiffrin’s chair.
“On second thought, let’s rest a minute,” I pant. “My head is mush.”
To stop the room from spinning, I close my eyes. Last time I was brainwashed, Shiffrin gave me Verced before she typed the code. I think back through previous memories. Each session, she would dose me before pulling out the Stitch. The memories are murky, like—
Tick, tack, tack, tick.
My eyes fly open. Chloe is at the cabinet, typing a code. Before I can even react, the latch gives a soft click.
I’m vaguely aware of my jaw dropping.
“How did you—?”
“It’s the date of our last day on Earth,” Chloe says faintly. She looks almost bewildered, as if she just woke up. “Shiffrin told me about it once. It was the last day she talked to her son. Sometimes… sometimes during therapy, she tells me about her life and what she misses. She said her son doesn’t talk to her anymore.”
“And she let you keep those memories?” I say in disbelief, struggling from my chair.
“Maybe… maybe she wanted someone else to know about him. Maybe she didn’t have anyone else she thought she could trust.”
I nod vaguely. Leave it to Chloe to psychoanalyze her own therapist.
As I open the cabinet door, the pearl-like diodes of the Stitch catch like fish eggs in the dull light, an alien cocoon of glistening webs. And there’s something else. A glass square. Shiffrin’s tablet. Carefully, I lift them both from their hiding place.
“Is that—?”
“Yeah.”
When I press the power button, I find that the tablet is dead. I guess whatever killed the lights drained it too.
“Come on,” I say. “We’ve got to meet up with the others in the ice cave.”
We head out for the Polar domes, warily making our way through the gloomy halls. This time I lead Chloe by the hand, staying sharp. The news about Noah has given her a shock, and she floats along like a person underwater.
Luckily, though I hear footsteps twice, we manage to slip away before a threat can present itself.
The time stamp announces eighteen hundred hours—dinner time—just as the fragrant smell of roasting lentils reaches my nose. Stomach growling, I tug Chloe past the chattering doors of the Polar cafeteria.
Again, I’m struck by how strange it is for things to feel so normal after the panic of the morning. Truthfully, the panic of the entire day.
I remind myself yet again that most cadets don’t know what’s really going on. We hurry toward the biome archway.
The tundra habitat is so hushed, it feels like an empty shell. We stop at the tool shed for a pair of the heavy coats that Polar cadets wear, insulated with a wonderful microfiber mesh. Then we round the craggy hill and make for the ice cave, the coldest part of the entire colony.
It’ll be miserable inside the enclosure, but I suppose it is our best bet for a meetup point. No one goes there unless they absolutely have to.
Once we’re inside, the temperature drops another ten degrees. The rock walls are patterned with lichen in glowing shades of orange, blue, and neon red. We huddle near the entrance and, since Terra and Romie haven’t shown up yet, we make a meal out of what food we have left.
Chloe was smart about what she chose when she gathered food for Atkinson’s time in hiding: carrots, broccoli, beets, radishes. Roots and vegetables that don’t spoil fast. We each have a banana for dessert, smeared with a rare packet of almond butter.
When we’ve finished I begin fiddling with the Stitch. Chloe hasn’t said a word since the Wellness Suite. She sits beside me, staring at the swirls of vegetation, her gaze in another world. Now that I’ve remembered everything, the posture reminds me unsettlingly of Noah.
“What’re you thinking about?” I ask, hoping for a casual tone.
“Lizzy, do you ever wonder what people think of you? Like, what they really think?” She glances at me and blushes. “Oh, n-never mind. I forgot you already know everything.”
“Not everything,” I say, running my fingers along a diode of the Stitch. It lights up as if sensing my touch, and I quickly withdraw.
Chloe stares at the wall again, but nods.
“Did he ever think about me?” she says hesitantly—almost pleadingly. “Noah, I mean.”
I look at her, then turn away. Now it’s my turn to be silent. It’s worse than before, having the knowledge of all the history between Noah and me. This isn’t the first time I’ve caused Chloe pain. It feels inevitable that it won’t be the last.
And maybe that’s true. But right now, minutes before we’re going to invade the Helix and it could all come to an end—it just isn’t the time.
“Chloe,” I fumble. “That’s… I don’t…”
Outside, a boot crunches on gravel. Before I can even move, a cadet ducks into the cave, a metal disk slung over his shoulder on a strap. Relief floods through me as I catch Romie’s face beneath the navy blue hood.
“You made it,” I say, standing.
“Oh, thank goodness,” he replies breathlessly. “I was afraid the EMP wouldn’t be enough. When I picked Chloe up on the cameras and saw the doctors—”
“So it was you. Did Terra tell you what was going on?”
“Yes, she did. But I’d already managed to finish the EMP before she reached me.” He pauses, his eyes wandering to the Stitch. “Is that it?”
I nod, holding it out to him. Curious, he stoops until his glasses slide down his nose. “Fascinating. I wonder what it’s made of?”
“Evil,” Chloe mutters.
“Where’s Terra?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since she informed me of Noah’s capture.”
A silent moment passes. I feel grateful I decided to tell Chloe when I did.
Standing, Chloe brushes off her coat and voices the obvious next question. “Do you think they caught her?”
“No,” says a voice, and Terra enters the cave, wrapped in a coat of her own. She glowers at us all. “But it wouldn’t have mattered if they did.”
“What do you mean?” Chloe asks.
“I mean, congratulations, Elizabeth. You wasted our only shot. Now the colony is on high alert, the cadets are on the verge of a meltdown, and the doctors are watching us all like hawks. Great job, really. It’s impressive how you not only failed to inspire a rebellion, you actually made sure we’d never get another chance at forming one.”
“Those cadets would never have believed me,” I tell her again, growing impatient. “And just for the record, I didn’t put anyone on high alert. Dosset did. This isn’t an accident. He intentionally made sure no one would trust me once they knew I had some deadly virus.”
“At this point, it doesn’t matter, does it?” she mutters. “Dosset probably knows that Romie and I are involved by now. Hiding one person was bad enough. Trying to hide all four of us just isn’t going to happen.”
For a moment the cave is filled only with the white, puffy air of our breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Romie says quietly. “If I could’ve just—”
“What are you apologizing for?” Terra snaps. “It’s Lizzy’s fault.”
“No, it isn’t,” Chloe says defensively. “She was doing her best. We all were. Remember what Noah said? Blaming others won’t help.”
I want to agree with her. But now I don’t think I can. Noah was wrong.
This isn’t about our best. It’s about them. Even before the virus, no matter what words I used, the cadets have had every good reason to think I’m lying. Because the truth is, they want me to be lying.
Why shouldn’t they? If I’
m telling the truth and the doctors are as conniving as I say, everything changes. It’s so much easier to just believe the world is fine. Who wouldn’t want that? I know I would.
The thought makes me pause.
Yet again, this is my problem. I’ve been thinking about myself. How I’d view me—what I’d have to do to win myself over. But what about them?
What do the cadets really want? In an instant, I know.
More than anything, they want life to just go back to normal. That’s why the virus is so frightening. It threatens their world, just like my accusations. And what has Dosset repeatedly said that he wants to avoid at all costs? For that normal to be disturbed. For the colony to dissolve into a panic.
A shiver runs through me, though it isn’t the cold. Because suddenly I know what to do.
“We don’t need the rebellion to believe us.”
“Actually, we do,” Terra says sharply. “If they don’t believe us, they won’t help us. And in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t do this on our own.”
“You’re right, we can’t. But we don’t need a rebellion to cause a distraction. All we need is the distraction itself. And Dosset has given us the perfect tool to make one.”
“What tool? What are you talking about?”
“This virus I supposedly have,” I say. “When I was in the Xeri theater, just the sight of me was enough to send the cadets into hysterics. If I were to show up somewhere crowded, like one of the cafeterias…”
“It would be anarchy,” says Chloe, her eyes wide.
“Okay, sure,” says Terra slowly. “But if you just walk in there, the doctors will catch you. There’s no way they’re going to let you pull a stunt like that and just slip away again.”
“That’s true,” says Romie. “And we need you to guide us in the Helix. None of us have been inside other than you.”
“Then after I start the riot, I’ll need to be sure they’re chasing someone else,” I say. My thoughts are moving so rapidly that I can hardly say them fast enough. But the framework of a plan is already taking shape in my mind.
As if sensing where I’m headed, Terra narrows her eyes.
“And just who do you think they’ll be chasing, Elizabeth?”
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