“I do, too. But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you or Alora to keep poking into things yourselves. It’s too dangerous.”
I decide to change tactics. I let my shoulders droop and look away from him as if in defeat. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I don’t want to put my family, or Alora, at risk. We both know what the DTA is capable of.”
For the first time, Professor March smiles. “I think that’s best, Bridger. Maybe I can get my sister to look into things, but for now you and Alora need to stop playing detective.”
“Okay. But promise me that you won’t report that we both have our memories back. We deserve to keep those.”
“All right,” he says. “It’s the least I can do.”
I glance at my DataLink. The others should be on the way to the museum now. “I have to go,” I say in a rush. “I promised to take Shan to the museum this afternoon. I can’t go back on that, or he’ll pout all day.”
“Then you’d better keep that promise.” Professor March stands and starts walking down the porch steps. He looks back when he reaches the sidewalk. “Please, comm me if you need anything. I promised your father I’d always be here for you.”
I want to believe him. But I can’t forget Dad’s message. Then a wave of sickness slams into me.
What if Professor March is still reporting to Anderson?
What have I done?
23
ALORA
FEBRUARY 19, 2147
Mom comes into my bedroom while I’m braiding my hair on Sunday morning. She sits on my bed, eyeing my clothes. “You look nice.”
She has to be kidding. I’m only wearing a plain gray tunic with a pair of black leggings: colors to match my mood. Both pieces are lined with a soft fabric designed to keep me warm, but I’m still freezing. That’s probably because I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened yesterday. I still can’t believe that Dad is really dead. In the back of my mind, I figured he was hiding out somewhere, or maybe even captured. Glancing at the mirror over my dresser, I flinch at my appearance. My eyes are puffy from crying so much.
I’m hurt and angry and beyond frustrated. As far as I’m concerned, the DTA is responsible for Dad’s death. But I want to learn who or what caused his shuttle to explode. I owe it to him to find out.
“What’s the occasion?” she asks.
And here we go. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for another argument. Yesterday she didn’t want to let me leave the apartment by myself, so I ended up yelling at her, saying that I had been coddled and sheltered for the past ten months, and I needed to be alone for once. She flinched as though I’d slapped her, but reluctantly agreed to let me go. I felt horrible, but I had to do whatever it took to meet Bridger, Zed, and Elijah at the DTA headquarters.
And today I have more plans.
“I’ve made some more friends at school, and they invited me to spend the day with them.”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s not the entire truth either. Since I can’t officially be around Bridger one-on-one without raising suspicion, Tara commed me earlier to let me know that Bridger wants to meet with all of us today. He’d reached out to her because he’s worried that his comms are being monitored by his father. After he talks to Vika’s mother, we’re all supposed to meet at the museum. Tara, Zed, and Elijah are coming over to meet Mom and pick me up. They should be here any minute.
“Honey, no. Since it’s your birthday tomorrow, I thought we could spend today together.”
And now I feel like the worst daughter ever. I had no idea she wanted to do that. Why didn’t she say anything about it last night? I just figured she was too upset with me because of our fight, and because I went to Tara’s apartment without letting her know first.
“It’ll just be for a few hours, then I’ll come back and we can spend the rest of the day together. Or we can go out for supper. Whatever you want.”
She tilts her chin down slightly, shaking her head. She looks like she wants to argue more, but a chime reverberates through the apartment. “I take it that’s your friends?”
“Yes, ma’am. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“I really wish you’d asked me first,” she says, following me to the living room.
I answer the door and invite Zed, Elijah, and Tara inside. They stand awkwardly side by side while I introduce them to Mom.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Mom says. She directs her attention to Tara. “Thank you for befriending Alora. It means a lot to both of us.”
“No problem, Ms. Mason. Alora is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
Elijah looks sharply at her in fake shock. “Hey, now, what about me?”
“You come in a distant second,” Tara says with a smirk.
Then Zed pipes up. “Don’t even look at me. I know I’m not even on your chart.”
Mom laughs, then turns to me. “Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”
Kill me now.
Twin flames burn my cheeks. I mumble an apology and follow her to the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Are you really sure you want to go out with them? You were gone all day yesterday, and I saw on the DataNet that Purists are starting protests again in some cities. I’m worried something will happen today.”
I try not to snap at her, but I’m really getting tired of her being so overprotective. “Will you please stop treating me like a child? I’m almost seventeen! I can take care of myself.”
Mom starts to speak, then pauses as if she’s deciding exactly what to say. After a long few seconds, she says in a soft voice. “I’m sure you can. But I lived all these years without you, Alora. I don’t ever want risk losing you again.”
Guilt gnaws at me. What am I doing? She’s my only surviving family member. I need to stop being such a brat to her. I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to go. I promised to spend the afternoon with them. We’re just going to the museum, that’s all.”
Mom leans back slightly, with a weird look on her face. “You sure do like that museum, don’t you?”
“I guess,” I reply. “After all, I did miss out on so much of this life.”
We rejoin the others in the living room. I pull on my coat, and as I open the door to leave, Mom calls out, “Don’t forget, we’re celebrating your birthday tonight. Don’t be too late.”
As soon as we’re out of the apartment, Elijah says, “So, it’s your birthday today?”
“It’s tomorrow, but Mom wants to do something special for me tonight since I’ll be at the Academy tomorrow.” I don’t add that I’d rather not do anything. But all I can think about is the fact that my own father will never be able to celebrate with me. I touch the ring that he gave me, the one intended for Mom. At least I have this to remember him by.
Zed gives me a pitying look. “So, you have to celebrate your birthday with an overprotective parental unit. That should be fun.”
I sigh. “I know, but at least I got out. So shut it.”
Zed clutches his chest. “I’m hurt. Your words are like daggers in my heart.”
Tara stares at Zed in disbelief. “Are you always so melodramatic?”
“Unfortunately, he is,” Elijah says.
“Unfortunately?” Zed asks in mock anguish. “You’re killing me.”
We all start laughing. It weird being part of a group, to feel like I’m starting to belong, but I like it. I never had that back in Willow Creek. My only friend, Sela, ditched me for a more “popular” crowd. Even now, the memory still stings.
“So, have any of you heard from Bridger?” I ask once we’re outside. A cold wind is blowing and I shiver even though I’m wearing my coat.
“Not since earlier this morning,” Elijah says. “He wasn’t happy. He said his mom forced him to bring Shan along because they needed to spend more time together. That’s why he wanted to meet with us at the museum. Shan can entertain himself without getting into our business.”
>
“Oh, he was more than unhappy. He was furious,” Zed says.
“Well, I don’t get why he hates being around his brother so much. I’ve seen Shan around campus and he seems nice. A little on the quiet side, but nice,” Tara replies.
When we get to the Maglev station, it takes us a little longer than usual to board. Earlier in the day, someone threw graffiti bombs showing the NFA’s triple rings encased in blue flames on two of the station’s walls. Nulls are busy deleting the images from the walls, and we all have to submit to a security check.
I’m relieved that I left my illegal tech back in my apartment. This time I hid it all separately, in pockets of several of the outfits hanging in my closet, just in case Mom decides to search my room.
We find four open seats in the last compartment. Once we’re seated, I ask. “What’s that all about? I’ve never seen that kind of graffiti before.”
Zed checks out the people seating around us to see if there are any eavesdroppers. “You haven’t checked your DataFeed?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Yep,” Tara says. “Lots of crap going on now with the Purists again. Rumor is they have a leader who’s stirring them up. And that graffiti we saw back there popped up in certain NAF cities last night.”
“I hope that’s all they’re going to do,” I say, suddenly feeling queasy. I don’t want anybody to get hurt, but I also want Bridger to be able talk to Vika’s mom as soon as possible. And we can’t do that if all hell breaks loose in the city.
We find Bridger and his brother just inside the front entrance of the museum. He comes over to me immediately and gives me a hug. “How are you feeling today?”
“A little better, I guess.” I want to tell him that I went back to visit my dad, but I’d rather do it in private. Somehow, I’m positive Bridger would understand, but I’m not sure how the others would react.
“So, how did it go with Colonel Fairbanks?” I ask.
Bridger’s expression turns grim. “Get this: she’s retired now, and she moved out of the city months ago.”
“How did you find that out?” Elijah asks.
“Professor March followed me there. He had some interesting things to tell me.” Glancing around the crowded main hall, Bridger says, “Let’s go to one of the quieter exhibits. Too many people around here.”
He’s right. The front part of museum is designed to draw people in with a variety of exhibits showcasing renowned pieces from the past. Original paintings by Picasso, Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and many other legendary artists. Ancient statues. Personal belongings of famous people from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, all retrieved at the times they were supposed to be destroyed. I wish we had more time to explore them. Maybe I could get Mom to bring me back here later tonight.
To our left is a long hallway labeled Sim Rooms. We turn to our right, which is labeled Original Documents. Bridger finally stops at a large room filled with rows and rows of books. Actual, physical books. I inhale deeply. God, how I’ve missed the smell of them. That’s something I never really thought about in 2013, but almost everything is digital now. I never thought I’d have to go to a museum to find a real book. Aunt Grace would be appalled.
We find an isolated table in the back and sit. When Bridger notices Shan is still with us, he scowls and says, “Look, I know you’re still mad at me, but we have a lot of important stuff to discuss that doesn’t involve you. Can you go somewhere else for a while?”
Shan’s face turns bright red. “Seriously, Bridger? First you and Professor March refuse to talk around me, and now this?”
The rest of us sit looking at each other. The tension is palpable.
“It has nothing to do with you,” Bridger says. “So can you give us some privacy?”
“Fine. I’ll leave so I won’t be such a furing burden to you,” Shan says. “But you know, maybe I could help if you’d just trust me.”
“Just go, Shan,” Bridger says through gritted teeth.
After he storms out, I tell Bridger, “Do you think that’s such a good idea? He’s really upset.”
Bridger shrugs off my words. “He’ll be all right. I’m willing to bet he’ll head straight to the Prohibition Era Sim Room. That’s the newest one.”
Zed lets out a laugh. “That figures. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed with those things. I’d love to hitch a ride when he finally gets to shift to an event with a little excitement. I bet he’ll shit himself.”
“I swear, Zed, you are an idiot sometimes,” Bridger mutters.
“But I’m a lovable idiot,” Zed says.
Elijah snickers and retorts, “That’s questionable, man. Really questionable.”
The whole exchange doesn’t sit well with me. “Bridger, I think you’re being too mean to Shan. Would it really hurt to let him stay? I mean, who knows? Maybe he could help.”
Bridger lets out a harsh laugh. “Trust me, I can’t let Shan know what’s going on. He’d run straight back to Mom and blab everything to her.”
“What’s to say he won’t tell her that you talked to Professor March and that we’re all meeting in here?” I reply. His attitude toward Shan is infuriating. If I had a sibling who I’d actually grown up with, I’d do just about anything to be close to them.
“I can come up with something if he tattles again. She always believes the worst about me, anyway. But more than likely I can just give him some credits. That usually works.”
Awkward silence follows, until Tara speaks up. “Before we get started, there’s something I think you all need to know.”
Running one of her hands down the back of her dark curls, she focuses on Elijah. I wonder what she’s doing when his face morphs from confusion to something that appears to be shock.
“Holy fure, babe, you can read minds? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Well, I am now,” she says with a sly grin. She leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
I’m shocked. I can’t believe Tara just outed herself to everyone, especially since we’ve been instructed not to let the regular Talents know. Then I feel like a total hypocrite because Elijah and Zed already know about me.
Her eyes cut to the rest of us. “So, now you know my secret. That’s why I was assigned to room with Alora. But I’m not alone—there are several more of us at the Academy.”
Zed blinks. “Wait, what? We’ve been told our entire lives that Dual Talents can’t exist, and suddenly I’m finding out you guys are everywhere. What the hell is going on here?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Bridger leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, frowning. “The DTA, and specifically General Anderson, are up to something. And I want to know what it is.”
“But first I want to know why Professor March followed you,” Elijah says.
“That’s because of his sister,” Bridger says. Then he shares what happened with Captain March yesterday back at the DTA headquarters, and what he learned upon sneaking into his grandma’s office.
“Wow. That’s so messed up,” Zed says in amazement.
Elijah, sitting next to me, pats me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad, Alora.”
Allowing myself a glance at Elijah, I say, “Thank you.” Then I lower my head and close my eyes for a moment. Don’t cry, I tell myself sharply.
“So what are we going to do now?” Tara asks. “I doubt you’ll be able to sneak into your grandma’s office again, since Captain March knows what you did. Even if she did choose not to snitch on you.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Bridger says. “What we need to do is find Colonel Fairbanks. She was there when Alora’s dad was first revived, and when he was killed. She’s Vika’s mother. And Vika and my dad both had their consciousness uploaded by an Unknown back in 2013. She’s the common thread. I’m willing to bet she has answers.”
“Well, genius, how are you going to find her? The good professor said he didn’t even know where she went.” Zed taps his chin, his eyes cutting to Bridge
r. “That is, if you believe him.”
“I’m thinking the same thing,” Bridger replies. “Dad warned me not to trust him.”
“I don’t know, man. He went out of his way to help you last year.” Elijah leans forward and rests his forearms on the table. “Maybe you should trust him. I mean, your dad may have said that, but he was a clone. You know they’re not stable.”
Bridger’s face flushes. “You weren’t there. He seemed completely sane. Didn’t he, Alora?”
All eyes shift in my direction, making me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to respond to that question. The cloned version of his father did seem normal. But then again, I had just been through a traumatic experience with Dave Palmer kidnapping me and a cloned version of my own half-sister trying to murder me. I finally say, “Well, compared to the clone of Vika, he did seem rational.”
Tara speaks up next. “I sort of agree with Bridger. I think finding Colonel Fairbanks is what we should concentrate on now. Maybe she’ll even know where Bridger’s father is.”
Bridger starts to speak, but before he can all of our DataLinks begin to buzz loudly and the touch screen flashes red, indicating an emergency alert from the government.
We activate our DataFeed, but instead of a message from the government, an unfamiliar man stares out at us. He’s bald, with tanned skin and a muscular build, and he’s dressed in a blue, button-up shirt. His eyes are a piercing hazel, but that’s all I can see of his face. His nose and mouth are covered by a black mask.
Something is off about him.
“Greetings, fellow NAF citizens. I wish I didn’t have to hack into the news feed, but it’s become clear to me that it’s necessary. You see, as someone classified as a Purist, I frequently experience discrimination. It’s something I, and millions of others like me, have put up with for too many years. But that’s going to change. Since the government has decided to unfairly punish us for our right to choose how we want to live, we have decided to take matters into our own hands. Knowing that most of us work jobs that barely provide a living wage, the government still decided to punish us further by forcing us to pay more for basic goods and services that everyone should have equal access to. Now, our families are forced to forego health care, and some are starving because of your actions.”
On Through the Never Page 17