“No,” I said immediately. “He’s getting them from Ascalon somehow, but I doubt he’d keep them there, either. Extras would be locked up somewhere really secure. He’d keep a few injections on him. That’s what we need to aim for, but he’s been at Happenings all day as Liza.”
Kalan grinned. “Looks like we get to break into Happenings after all.”
“What?” His words caught me off guard. “No way can we break into that place.”
“Sure we can,” he said. “You told me your friend had some kind of hack for the door locks. Happenings has everything we need. Matthews, the syringes, and that memory machine. The SLS. We have to take that out too, so it can’t be used against you anymore.”
“I know.” I thumped my elbows on the table and gripped my scarf. “But it’s not possible. Kinley’s hack for the DNA locks only worked once. House locks are all connected to a city-wide system, and it’s programmed to adapt. Happenings would have its own system outside the city-based one, but the best we could hope for is that the hack would get us into the building. We’d never get through any of the internal doors.”
“Stupid plan anyway,” Joss said. “We need simple.”
Kalan and I both turned to Joss in surprise.
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” Kalan asked.
“You two, taking on the entire town plus Liza-Woods-slash-Matthews alone?” Joss brushed a hand over the stubble on his head. “Like you said, we take down the thief, we stop the riots. Better than me smacking people’s heads together until they wise up and stop hurting each other.”
So. Beneath the rude exterior, Joss actually cared about people. In a weird, harsh sort of way.
“What’s your simple plan, then?” I asked.
“Ambush Matthews outside Happenings, take one of his syringes, and go to the cops. That’s all we really need.”
“It’s not all we need,” I said. “Memories are key in a Mementi court. I have to get one of him switching to make sure he gets locked up for good.”
Joss snorted. “A syringe full of somebody else’s DNA in a Chameleon solution wouldn’t be hard enough proof? Sounds like the Mementi justice system is a joke.”
I opened my mouth.
“Okay, cool it, folks.” Elijah held up a hand. “The point is, a syringe won’t prove who the DNA was meant for. And it won’t stop the riots, not soon enough. We need the shock value Gena’s memory of Matthews can provide.”
I nodded. “Especially if we pair it with my other memories that prove he’s the Link thief.”
“So what, we catch him in the shower?” Kalan said. “Not sure how I feel about that.”
“He’s been at Happenings all day as Liza,” I said. “But my sister heard on the news that he’s holding some sort of press conference. He’s got to change from Liza to himself sometime before seven o’clock tonight.”
“He could do it anywhere,” Elijah said.
I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hands. Happenings was the only place we knew for sure when and where Matthews would be. The only place we could stop both him and the SLS—and the riots. My fingers clenched at my forehead.
“Gena.” Kalan sounded thoughtful. “Liza had her own private car, remember? With the trams down, it’s the only way to get to Ascalon. Which means he’d have to get—”
My head jerked up. “To the parking garage.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “It’s the one place we know he’ll be. If we can get inside, we ambush her—him—jeez, this is weird—anyway, we get everything we need. We use his Liza-self to get through the door locks and take out the SLS, inject Matthews with his own Chameleon treatment for Gena’s memory, and then scram with a syringe that’s got traces of Liza’s DNA.”
Joss opened his mouth like he wanted to protest, then shut it. Elijah rubbed the back of his neck.
A tingle of excitement set my fingers drumming on the table. “That’s actually not bad. It could work.”
He grinned. “I told you I’m pretty smart, even without that memorized encyclopedia.” His high, happy eyebrows dipped for a moment. Like something had hurt him.
“Okay,” Elijah said. “That’s our plan then.”
“Almost,” said Joss. “This is gonna be dangerous. I don’t think Gena should be going, or Kalan. They’re just kids.”
My smoldering temper flared, burning up any scrap of politeness I might have had left. “How old do you think I am? You’re like two years older than me. We need a Mementi memory of Matthews transforming. I can upload it to a Memo for the Populace, but the Mementi won’t go for it if it’s from one of you. If I get to the SLS, I can use it to upload my memories directly to everyone who’s plugged in.”
My stomach turned in protest. It would be jarring. Violating, to force my memory into everyone’s heads. But it was the only way to shock them enough to stop killing each other, and I could make sure it would never be done again. And even if I could never restore everyone’s memories of me, at least I could make sure they wouldn’t continue to forget me.
“I’m not a kid, either,” Kalan added. “I’ll stick close to Gena. She’ll need a bodyguard.”
Joss leaned back, hands behind his head. “Kal, I keep waiting for you to outgrow the arrogant twerp stage. You think me and Elijah couldn’t protect her as well as you?”
“Hello?” I waved my hands in irritation. “Who says I need protection more than anyone else? I’m a lot stronger than I look.” Ballet had that handy side-effect.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Elijah said to me. “The worst they could do to any of us is lock us up. But you . . .”
If we got caught, Matthews could snatch my Links. Wipe me clean like a slate. A flutter of panic threatened to close my throat, and I tapped my toe against the floor.
I dug for my anger. Think of Liza’s laughter as Ren left me behind at Happenings. Think of Drake Matthews sitting in my home mere days before he took it away from me.
My fingers rolled into fists. “I’m in.”
28
To-night the winds begin to rise . . .
—Alfred, Lord Tennson, In Memoriam XV
Joss and Elijah rode up front in the car, Kalan and I in the back. Anabel stayed in the canyon with Rachelle.
We sped through the streets. Even in the deserted areas, the city seethed with wrath. The jagged edges of smashed windows bared teeth at us. Slashes of black spray-paint on a red front door cut the word FREAK into my brain. Scorch marks seared the white tower of Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs’ lighthouse home.
The Gibbs. Among the last of the first generation. Lives already ravaged by trauma, only to be ravaged again. Hopefully they’d made it to the safety of the Arts Center next to Zahra’s studio. Kalan was giving me updates from my Link buds, and he said a lot of Mementi had gathered there and set up guards at the doors.
Elijah slammed on the brakes for the fourth time. My head snapped forward and Joss swore.
A line of black-clothed, helmeted police marched down the street. A rush of Populace protesters surged away from the homes they were trashing. One man whipped a long metal pole forward. It careened toward the cops like a javelin. I gasped, about to call out a warning, but the pole clanged to the street. Narrow miss.
Crack. A flash of light and smoke erupted in front of the crowd. Smoke billowed, voices shrieked, bodies writhed, and hands flailed. Like hell was birthed beneath the hot sun. I clapped my hands to my ears.
“Go around, take a right,” Joss said. The car screeched backward. We’d never get there in time, not with all the detours the riot was forcing on us.
I tapped the quick-time button on my Sidewinder and bit my lip. According to news reports, Drake Matthews would be unveiling “dramatic new technology” tonight. It couldn’t be the SLS—that was at Happenings, and he wouldn’t play that hand in public. But the only “dramatic” thing that would pull the Mementi away from these riots was the longed-for memory backup. The hope that sneaked into my heart terrified me. What would be the
cost, if Matthews really had the backup? And would I be willing to pay it?
I’d know soon enough. Matthews was due at Ascalon BioTech headquarters within the hour.
But the people swarmed like termites, eating the city alive. I banged my head on the back of the car seat. Go home! You have children to comfort and dinner to eat and plants to water. Go home and be human. People flashed past the car window. A Populace man wielding a large hammer led a group the same direction we headed, toward the city center.
I told myself the glint of red on the hammer was my imagination.
The truth might not stop this. It wasn’t about the Link thefts anymore. It was about what a few Populace had done to some Mementi, and what a few Mementi had done in retaliation. It was about the Memoriam crumbling to ash with the remains of our relatives, and the Populace old man who was beaten while walking his dog last night, and the twelve Mementi students hospitalized and the teacher killed when a group tried to destroy the SLS systems during school. How did we get so out of control?
Heat seared my veins. I wanted to sweep through town. Force them to look into each other’s faces and see humanity. But even when you could share memories, you could never share the way you saw the world.
“We’re almost there,” Kalan said.
The ranks of rioters swelled around us again—Mementi, this time. I knew their faces, except I didn’t know their faces. All I’d ever seen were masks of politeness, and they’d shed those. Was this twisting fury really who they were, or was it just another mask? A horror mask, one that would frighten them when they took it off and saw what they had become?
A shower of thunks and clinks thundered on the roof of the car. Outside, people picked up sticks and rocks from the desert landscapes of nearby houses, hurling them at us. No cops gathered to stop them.
As suddenly as it started, the hail of debris stopped. Which seemed oddly ominous. I craned my neck to see what caused the cease-fire.
Ahead of us, another car approached. Olive green, with dark tinted windows. A horde of people tailed it, racing after it and chucking rocks. Our own attackers abandoned us for fresh meat.
“Oh no.” Kalan grabbed the seat in front of him. “Oh no, that’s him.”
“It can’t be.” My body went limp. “It can’t be, we’re so close.”
“That’s his car. Or maybe Liza’s car, I don’t know. We saw it at Happenings.”
The other car sped up and passed us. Rioters converged on it, forcing it to slow again. Rocks crunched against metal. Redheaded Mrs. Downing picked up a metal shard that had fallen from a broken tram and beat at the windshield.
We were too late. Our targets—Matthews and the SLS—had separated. We couldn’t get inside Happenings without him. Even if we did, without solid proof that Matthews was Liza, he could just rebuild what we destroyed. We might never stop him.
“Out, now!” I shoved Kalan toward the door.
“What?” The other two men turned to look at me.
“Matthews is the priority, we’ve got to beat him to Ascalon if we want a chance at him.”
“They’ll eat us alive out there!” Joss cried.
“We’ll only get through this crowd before he does if we run,” I said.
Kalan nodded. “We can use the chaos to blow right by them.”
“Okay, then God help us,” Elijah hollered. “Count of three, and we all go at once. One!”
Breathe in, breathe out. I slowed the rhythm, trying to control the shaking in my legs.
“Two!”
Elijah slammed the brakes. We all rocked forward.
“Three!”
The car doors flew open and we tumbled out. Shouts and sirens and bodies crunching together assaulted my ears. We sped past the car, headed the few blocks to Ascalon headquarters. In the frenzy over the other car, no one noticed us.
The glittering, steel-swathed glass globe of Ascalon BioTech rose ahead of us. Underground parking garage. Around the east side. We were so close.
A thrashing mass of Mementi protestors stood in our way, joining ranks with the riot police. I forced my legs forward. Maybe if we ran faster . . .
The rioters attacked.
Joss and Elijah struggled with the mob, lost in a blur of fists and shouts. Mementi, hitting people. The shock made me trip over my own feet. Kalan grabbed my hand, steadying me. We forced our way through the fighting crowd. A fist grazed my shoulder. I tucked my head down and ran. My blood raced, singing a song of urgency. Move, get out, run.
Someone bashed into Kalan, ripping his hand from mine. He rolled across the pavement. A figure jumped on top of him, fists flying toward Kalan’s face. I did the last thing I ever expected of myself.
I punched the guy in the side of the head.
He pitched to the side, falling to his back. I cradled my throbbing fist.
“Dom?” I gasped.
He stumbled to his feet, his eyes empty of recognition. With a roar, he lunged at me.
Kalan reached for my hand. We darted into the crowd, weaving until Dom was out of sight.
Ascalon drew closer, the inner gardens that ringed each floor now visible. Outside, bushes circled the building, low enough not to detract from the view. Round the building, to the west. Ahead, bouncing in my vision, stood a line of police guarding the ramp to the garage entrance.
Should’ve thought of that.
“Gena, stop,” Kalan shouted. He jerked me to a halt.
The guards eyed us, batons and shields blocking our path. Shouts behind us caught my attention. A mass of bodies barreled toward us—and the police line. Populace, this time.
“We have to go,” I said.
“Wait, we need them a little closer.”
Closer?
“Okay, go!”
We dashed toward the line of police with their thick shields and thicker black batons. Voices screeched in my ears. The ground thundered beneath me with the rush of so many feet. I counted it out like the pattern of a drum beat, trying to force back the panic swelling inside me.
The police rushed forward, batons swinging. The glancing blow of a baton on my shoulder sent sparks across my vision. I hunkered low, shoving through a narrow gap between bodies. A gunshot sounded. Let it be a rubber bullet. A familiar crack, and the spark of a smoke bomb. I gasped a breath and held it. A whiff of smoke tickled my nose.
I ducked. I ran. I whirled under outstretched arms and swayed around swinging sticks. My hand tore from Kalan’s, then found him again. The cops rained their blows down, a cacophonous drum beat. It felt less like fighting and more like a mad dance of desperation.
We sped down the ramp and dived into the shade of a large bush by the garage entrance. Smoke and rage blinded the cops and the mob. We were either unnoticed or forgotten.
I collapsed, sandwiched between the building’s concrete foundation and the bush. Dirt cooled my arms through my gloves. Branches poked at my heaving shoulders like woody fingers checking me for injuries. I adjusted the Links under my shirt, my fingers sliding along each bead. All intact.
“No one else?” I panted. “No one’s coming?”
“Just us,” Kalan said through heavy breaths. “I think.”
“Where’s your dad?” I wheezed. “And Joss?”
“Cops grabbed Dad. Joss tried to stop them. I didn’t see what happened, but I’m sure they got him too.”
Arrested, bad. Arrested by cops who weren’t much better than mobbers themselves, terrifying. “What if they . . .”
“Dad wasn’t fighting. I think they’ll just haul him away. Hopefully Joss won’t fight so hard that they’ll hurt him.” Kalan rubbed his nose. “They’ll be okay. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Good thinking. With the crowd.”
He sat next to me, his lanky legs engulfed by the bush. “I figured if it worked once, it might work again.”
“Worked once?” I sat up.
He paused. “You didn’t watch all of the new Memo I gave you, did you?”
I
rubbed the sore shoulder that had caught the police baton. “Not all of it,” I whispered.
Another pause. “Right before we saw Liza in the parking garage at Happenings, we did something similar. I put it in the Personal memories, though. I didn’t want . . . what happened after to upset you.”
The guilt of cowardice shrunk my heart. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know our history. I just couldn’t take any more pain right now.
“I’m sorry.”
“No sorries, Gen. I split up the memories on purpose.”
He’d wanted me to have a choice. To decide what I wanted to remember about the relationship we’d built. I touched his face, smeared with blood and dirt from tumbling on the pavement.
A distant car engine hummed. The garage next to us screeched open. Drake Matthews had made it through the crowd.
“Okay.” I rose to a crouch. “We don’t know if he’ll look like Liza or himself. Either way, we can swipe one of his Cham treatments and inject him right in the garage.”
Anabel said the effects were almost immediate, but they left you weak for a period of time while your body adjusted to the change. We should have plenty of time to watch him morph and scram with an extra Chameleon treatment.
I’d seen Hades slough off layers of skin before. I had a feeling watching a human being do it would be un-enjoyable to the extreme.
Sunlight flashed on metal. The now-battered green car zipped into the garage.
“Go!” Kalan said.
We leaped over the bush. The garage door creaked down. I had to duck, but we made it through without much trouble.
Until a pair of hands grabbed me.
I screamed and tried to wrench myself away. My injured shoulder sent a shock of pain that curled my fingers. Hands tightened around my waist. Kalan wrestled with an Ascalon security guard a few feet away.
“What’s going on?” a voice called.
My vision hazed red in fear. I knew that voice.
“Found two intruders,” my guard called out.
“Gena, run!” Kalan’s muffled voice rose from the pavement where the guard held him face down. “Forget his Cham injection, just run!”
For a split second, I wished the guard had gagged that big mouth.
The Unhappening of Genesis Lee Page 25