Gyan’s lips curl upward, revealing snow-white teeth. “Excellent,” he breathes.
“Sir?” Hunter asks again. “Is this what you wanted to see me about?”
“Yes, Aevum,” Gyan says to Hunter. “But there’s nothing to be concerned about. These are the people who were compromising your development.” He stares at me, his expression pulsing with power. “The ones we had removed from your memories. That’s why they know you, but you do not recognize them. I’m glad to see the process was a success.”
I turn to my uncle in fear. “Did that really happen?”
My uncle’s words feel as cold as snow. “Yes, Tess, I’m afraid it did. Myself included.”
I look back at Hunter, my throat constricting. “You don’t . . . remember us?”
“No,” Gyan answers. “He doesn’t.” He sighs, brushing his fingers down Hunter’s arm almost wistfully. “That’s what I love about technology. It’s so efficient. So exact.”
I direct my words at Gyan, rage boiling inside me. “How could you. How could you treat him like . . . like a machine you can do whatever you like with?”
“Aevum is a machine I can do whatever I like with,” Gyan snarls back. “Aevum is the property of the Trust.”
“No!” I cry, ignoring the restraining hands on me. “He has a mind! He’s alive! Now you’ve destroyed . . .” My words falter, catching in my throat. “Now he won’t remember . . .”
“What?” Gyan’s words are urgent. “What doesn’t Aevum remember that’s so important to you?”
I stare at Hunter: mysterious, clever, sweet Hunter. He looks back at me curiously. “How do we know each other? Do you work for the Trust?”
Behind him, the white shark drifts endlessly back and forth in the water. “Now he doesn’t remember the feelings he had for me,” I say meekly.
A few long beats of awkward silence. The look on Gyan’s face is a perfect mix of incredulity and disgust.
“Tess,” Abel says softly, “artilects don’t have feelings like we do. Not even Hunter.”
“That’s not true!” I choke, tears welling in my eyes. “They do. That’s why Mom was killed, that’s why Magnus killed her, it was because of me!”
A Tranq shoves a razer into my back, but Gyan stops him with a lifted hand. His eyes don’t leave mine. His voice is low and intense: “Tell me why your mother was killed.”
I say nothing. I’ve held on to that secret for over a year. I’m not breaking, not even now.
Gyan slips his fingers into his robe and extracts the remote for my chip, holding it up like a prize.
“Do your worst,” I mumble sourly. At least the Nurses will be nice to me when I end up back in the hospital. Change of clothes can’t hurt either.
Gyan slits his eyes. “Tell me why your mother was killed and I’ll pardon one of your friends from execution.”
Naz, Ling, and Achilles all stare at me, eyes round with shock. None of us even knew the Trust executed prisoners, let alone that we were on the list. “Works for me,” murmurs Achilles.
I close my eyes, steadying myself on the edge of the table with outstretched hands. The truth about Magnus. A secret I swore I would take to my grave. But now it can save someone from theirs.
I open my eyes. Everyone is staring at me. Even the Tranquils and Quicks look as if they’re listening. I say, haltingly, “Magnus killed my mom because he thought he was in love with me.”
“What?” cries Abel in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
My gaze lowers to the table. “I wanted to punish her. For spending so much time away from me. I was so jealous of him . . .” Blood rushes to my face. “It was stupid, and it just got out of control. I didn’t realize how much it was affecting him, I swear, I didn’t know.”
“How what was affecting him?” Abel says in confusion. “Magnus barely spent any time with anyone, that was the problem with Frankie’s approach. Why would Magnus think he was in love with you?”
Hot tears drip onto the table in front of me. “C’mon, Uncle Abel,” I say with a sad smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” Abel’s look of noncomprehension forces me over the edge. “Magnus . . . and I . . . were . . .” I suck in a deep, shuddering breath. “Involved.”
There it is. The secret I’d let banish me to the Badlands. The secret that had not only destroyed me and my mother but Magnus as well. He wasn’t anywhere near as evolved as Hunter, but it was still wrong. He was still alive in some strange, undefined way. He was alive, and because of me, now he isn’t. I am the one who used his feelings for me to get him out of Simutech and into my house. Where we were caught.
My bedroom light made the copper color of his artificial skin look like it was on fire. “How much do you love me?”
I could just hear the soft electric wheeze of hidden mechanics as Magnus revolved his head toward me. “I do not understand the question. I cannot define emotions in a quantifiable way.”
I laughed and rolled onto my stomach, fumbling for the bottle of white nail polish on my crowded bedside table. “It’s just an expression, dummy. Rhetoric. Tell me you love me more than there are stars in the sky.”
“I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”
My fingers found the polish. “How many stars are there, anyway?”
“Seventy sextillion.”
“Sextillion, huh?” I giggled. Unscrewing the small bottle, I carefully dab at my fingernails with the fine brush. “Tell me you love me more than Mark Manzino loves his stupid dogface girlfriend.”
“I love you more than Mark Manzino loves his stupid dogface girlfriend.”
“Thought so.” I snickered softly. I finished my nails and rolled off my bed to twirl across my bedroom floor. I’ve let my room get insanely messy. I don’t care.
Izzy said love made her unstoppable. But you don’t need to be in love to feel that way. Just being loved did the trick. And Magnus loved me more than any of Izzy’s boyfriends or girlfriends ever loved her. This thought made me tingle all over. For once, I’m the one with an obsessed boyfriend. Me.
“What do you love about me?” I asked with a sigh, eyes closed, wanting to feel giddy.
“Everything.”
I opened my eyes. The room spun. “Be specific.”
A pause. “I love the color of your hair.”
I giggled, stumbling over to collapse into his lap. “Yes, that’s interesting, isn’t it?” I folded my legs up under me and snaked one hand around the back of his thick, cool neck. His huge size made me feel tiny. “I read men are genetically programmed to find women with blond hair attractive because they look younger,” I said. “Younger equals more fertile, and more fertile equals greater chance in producing offspring. You’ll never get anyone pregnant, and you’re still into blondes.”
Or maybe, you’re just into me.
I stroke one side of his mathematically square jaw with my fingertips. He made a low whirring sound that conveys what he experiences as pleasure. My man-machine. Mine. Magnus would do anything for me. I thrilled at the power I had over him, a wicked and glorious and dangerous power that made me feel so deliciously alive.
“How much do you love me, Tess?”
His large, strong hands cradle my back, exactly where I’ve told him I like it. He never forgets. I arched my back like a serpent. “More than anything in the world.” The lie swirled from my lips like a delicate wisp of smoke.
The front door slammed. My head jerked in the direction of the sound.
“Tess?”
She’s supposed to be at a conference.
“Don’t come in here!” I leaped to lock my door, but Magnus held me in place.
“Please keep touching my face with—”
“Shut up,” I whispered furiously. “And let me go. Now!”
“Tess?” She sounded panicked. Damn—did they realize he was missing? It’s only been an hour. Or so?
“Don’t come in here!”
I flew across the room. My hand on the knob just as she
pushed it open, knocking me back.
“Tess, have you—” She saw him. Shit. Shit. I’m grounded for the next year. Her protracted look of disbelief was so comical, I almost laughed.
My mother’s voice, a hoarse whisper, alien in its terror: “What is he doing in the house?”
I watched her alert, flushed face answer that question for herself.
The fact was I’m wearing nothing but a t-shirt. The Simutech transport in the driveway. The unusual changes to Magnus’ singularix she couldn’t understand. My late-night visits where I’d “forgotten” she wouldn’t be there, relayed to her by helpful Howie. And the fact I’d stopped asking for her attention, months ago. It all spoke for itself. The expression on her face made me realize how much I relished the power I had over her, too.
Now I have your attention, don’t I?
“Tess, go into my bedroom and lock the door.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, relax. It’s fine—”
“Now!”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
“Tess, you are upset.” Magnus rose from my bed, far too big, far too tall.
“Magnus, I want you to follow me downstairs,” Mom said slowly. “I’m going to take you back to Simutech.”
“I want to stay with Tess.”
Her eyes snapped to mine in shock. Smugly, I took a few steps toward him, folded my arms, and shrugged. “He wants to stay with me, Mom.”
“Magnus,” Mom said louder, looking directly at him. “I’m going to take you back to Simutech. I’m going to take you back there right now. Everything is going to be fine.”
“It’s been more than fine, Mom,” I sneered. “I’ve been showing your little project the real world and he loves it—”
“Dammit, Tessendra!” Tears shone in her brilliant blue eyes. “This ends now, whatever it is! Magnus, get downstairs!”
“No. I want to stay with Tess.”
“I said, get downstairs!” In a furious panic, Mom hurtled toward me and tried to wrench me away from him. In one swift movement, Magnus latched on to her wrist. I heard the crunch of breaking bones. My mother gasped then cried in pain, a terrible, nightmarish sound.
“Magnus, stop! Stop it!” He immediately did, standing upright, right beside me. Substitutes can’t hurt people. But Magnus isn’t a substitute. Magnus is something else.
“Get away from Tess.” My mother gasped, clutching her arm to her chest, afraid to touch me. I stood stock-still, frozen by shock. Things were unraveling and I didn’t know how to stop them. “Leave the room. Now. That’s an order.”
“I will not. I love her. I love Tess.”
“Don’t say that!” my mother cried. “This is wrong, but I can fix it.”
“But I am not broken.” His voice was changing. His words were coming quicker.
“Magnus, come here!” Mom ordered.
“No, Mom, stop!” I cried.
“You cannot stop me from being with her—”
“You bastard!” The words ripped out of her, possessed by a force greater than all of us. “I’ll destroy you myself if I have to!”
“No!” Magnus shouted.
“Magnus!” I screamed, hysterical and sick. “Get away from my mother!”
But I cannot stop him from grabbing her. I cannot stop him from picking her up. And I cannot stop him from throwing her, sickeningly hard and fast, across my bedroom.
The splintered crash of a mirror breaking.
“Mom!” I screamed, falling onto my hands and knees. I crawled to her like a baby. I slipped in the blood. “Mommy!” I rolled her over and my heart stopped. She was broken. Her eyes were unseeing. There was so much blood. “No! No, no, no,” I whimpered. It was the only word I could say.
And then, his voice.
“No one will separate us. I love you, Tess.”
Three long, drawn-out words bring me back to the present. “How. Extremely. Interesting,” breathes Gyan.
I open my eyes to see everyone staring at me, dumbstruck. My cheeks are hot and wet—I didn’t realize I’d been crying. I wipe at them with the back of my hand, which is shaking uncontrollably.
Now everyone knows the truth. But the truth has spared the life of someone in Kudzu.
Hunter sits next to Gyan, spine as straight as a ruler. Unlike everyone else, his face is as blank as a substitute’s. If my story had any impact on him, I can’t tell.
“Right,” Gyan announces. “Now that I finally have all the facts, I’m satisfied we can safely begin Project Aevum. Immediately.”
“No!” I gasp. “You can’t!”
“Take them all to the Interrogation Room,” Gyan continues. “If they don’t wish to divulge the real whereabouts of their coconspirators, you have authority to execute.”
“What? No!” shouts Abel, who is instantly restrained and gagged.
“What?” I gape at Gyan. “You said you’d spare one of my friends. You said it!” I shout. “You just told me!”
Gyan places one hand possessively on Hunter’s shoulder. He regards me as if I am an ant he’d take great pleasure in squashing. “I lied.”
Two Tranqs haul me out of my chair. The rest of Kudzu are in front of me, screaming and cursing. Gyan begins speaking with Hunter as if we weren’t there. “I assume, Aevum,” I hear him say, “that you’re expecting a one hundred percent success rate?”
I’m the last one at the door, about to be shoved out by a Tranquil. “No!” I yell. “He’s not!” Gyan ignores me, but Hunter glances in my direction curiously. “He expects a ninety-six-point seven percent success rate,” I gasp desperately.
Hunter’s jaw loosens in surprise, his thick eyebrows drawn close. “How did you know that?”
Two Tranqs lift me to pull me from the room, but I grip the door frame, babbling frantically. “You told me, Hunter! You care about me, you know you do! You can’t do this! You can’t kill all those people!”
Hunter is staring at my arm, stock-still and almost trancelike. He’s looking at the cell branding—the strange markings that don’t look like the other prisoners’. My eyes flit from the branding back to him. His head snaps up to find my gaze, fast and almost desperate. For the first time since he entered the room, there’s something alive in his eyes. Is it recognition?
“Hunter!” I scream, but it’s too late. I’m out of the room and he’s gone.
My feet skip and slide across the shiny floor as the Tranqs drag me along. Far off in the distance, I hear the horrible caw of a thousand crows. Then I realize it’s the sound of Kudzu, yelling in protest. The long, low doglike moan is me, a sound I wasn’t aware of making.
Shick. The neat whisper of a door disappearing reveals white light and colorful scribbles of movement. The Tranquils let me go and I fall like a puppet cut loose from its strings.
Silence. No. Not silence. A soft and gentle fluttering.
“What the—” says Ling.
“Where are we?” Naz sounds nervous.
“They’re not really going to kill us?” Achilles asks, petrified. “That’s just rhetoric, right?”
“Tess?” Fingers pull my bottom eyelid down. A burn of white light. I flinch and pull away. Ling says, “She’s conscious. Help me sit her up.” Hands try to lift me, my back slumping against a wall. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” Achilles says nervously. “This is . . . weird.”
“C’mon, Rockwood. Don’t be such a baby,” Naz growls.
I moan.
“There you go.”
I am sitting up. And because I don’t want to be a baby, even now, I make myself open my eyes.
We are in a bright, white, square room, empty except for us. In the four walls that surround us, and yes, even in the roof overhead, are butterflies.
Hundreds and hundred of butterflies—iridescent green, black-and- yellow-striped, electric blue. Some are as large as dinner plates, some as tiny as moths. They are fluttering around what must be a huge butterfly sanctuary, open except for the cube of space we are
in. Looking through the clear wall I’d been leaning against, I can see out about twenty feet before the sanctuary ends, but because the walls are all painted white, it’s impossible to get a clear perspective on the space. Except for the butterflies, it is distressingly barren. No weapons. Not even a chair. And, like the rest of the Three Towers, it is absolutely freezing.
Naz pounds the white door we must’ve come through with her only fist, swearing. She runs her fingers around the edge of it, but the gap between the door and the wall isn’t wide enough for even a pinky. She slams her fist into a glass wall. It is so thick, it barely makes a sound. “Hey! Let us out of here! Hey!”
Achilles massages his wrists nervously. “Not sure ‘let us out’ is going to win them over at this stage. Besides, didn’t your parents ever tell you tapping on the glass disturbs the animals?”
“My parents are stuck out in the Badlands, about to be killed! Just like us! I’ve got bigger problems than some stupid butterflies,” Naz snaps, kicking the glass hard. I flinch. That looked painful.
“That’s not helping anyone—”
“Shut up, Zamata!” she says tearfully, kicking the glass again. “Shut up!” Another kick. “Shut up!”
“Stop!” he cries. “You’re just hurting yourself!”
Naz paces the room in circles for a few moments, then stops, huffing air. We wait, tense, expecting something to happen. Nothing does. After a few moments, Naz turns to me and scowls. “Quite a story you told back there, Rockwood.”
“You want to cut me down, Naz?” I hiss. “Go ahead. I’ll even get you started. Disgusting freak girl who fools around with artilects—”
“Whoa, calm down,” Naz interrupts. “You got a ’bot hot for you to piss off your mom. Don’t be such a drama queen about it.”
I stare at her, bewildered. “My mom’s dead because of me.”
“You didn’t know he’d do that,” Ling says. I look at her in surprise. She looks directly at me for the first time in what feels like forever.
“You’re speaking to me?” I say without thinking.
“I can’t condone your betrayal,” Ling says. “But telling the truth about Magnus in order to save one of us? That’s honorable.” Her eyes explore the space carefully as she continues. “And as far as the whole Magnus thing . . . I mean, you probably shouldn’t have done it—”
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