>That way you’ll have enough of a sample to decode.>> Though recalling Finola’s professional disgust of their methods, maybe we’ll luck out. The universe owes us that much.
<
>>Doesn’t matter. You know that.>>
Randall fits the medical cuff to my forearm. When it chimes, he siphons off enough blood to fill the collection bag halfway. Not as much as I instructed him, but I’m too exhausted to tell him otherwise. Charon watches on in silent fascination. “Just hang on. We’re almost there,” Rik says as he hooks me up to the scrubbing kit.
Wordlessly, Charon gestures to his nose. My nose. More blood drips from it. Everything wavers as I contemplate all that red staining my fingers. It’s dictated so much for so long.
And now I’m throwing it all away. Aventine, the life I thought I had to give up. All that sacrifice, meaningless.
<
Rik takes my shoulders, and my head falls back to stem the flow. The basement dims around me as though there’s been an outage. The screens strobe, making it hard to focus on Rik and the desperation radiating off him.
Newly scrubbed blood finally starts looping back into me. But instead of the slight buzz it usually brings, clean and full of oxygen, it can’t fight off the curdle. >>I’m sorry…>>
<
Pretty sure I can. Pretty sure I have no choice. >>I’m sorry about everything.>> I reach for him, my hands clumsy as I find his neck, the implant living below skin. >>Whatever you do, don’t get it removed. Not until–>>
<
Leaving behind smeared blood like a brand, my hand drops away. Along with everything else.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As consciousness drifts back into my mind, part of me wants to stay in slumbering darkness. No pain, no exhaustion, no more responsibilities.
The rest rushes into waking, heedless of the full-body fatigue that anchors my limbs and weights my head against the pillow. I don’t have to open my eyes to know that Rik’s with me. His anxiety leaches under my lids and tugs them open sooner than if I were left to my own devices. I’m on a small, makeshift pallet in the bar’s storage room.
Randall’s on the floor, his back against the wall. “You were asleep so long,” he says, “I thought you wouldn’t come out of it.” A rusty brown stain rings his collar. I stare at it, puzzled, until I remember it’s my blood, marking him. And blood means data.
I push into a seated position, hating how drained I feel. “Did they decrypt it?”
Randall’s gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah. All of it. They were able to confirm the database patch targets the same Disconnect records Charon and the others say have been tampered with.”
“So the government was trying to fix things.” Even if covertly.
He nods. “When we examined the patch with Geeta, we couldn’t see what was going on in the hidden fields, right? Well, Charon built a backdoor into the registry to make them visible. That’s where all the big changes are, just like you suspected.”
“What did they find?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Land claims, primarily. Whoever’s behind the data breach tried to reassign ownership of parcels owned by Disconnects.”
“Why would…” Then it hits me. Erasing claims, positioning people with more valuable plots in the lead up to Emergence, and no one would be the wiser. “I can’t believe it. This would be the biggest land grab in recent memory.”
Randall gives me a grim nod. “That’s the only thing I can think of that’s worth killing over.”
“Whoever did this must’ve thought between the Law of Digital Recency and the destruction of the physical records, no one would be able to prove the registry was changed, assuming they noticed the discrepancies in the first place.” I flop back down on the pallet. My head hurts with it all.
“And they’re still analyzing the database patch to see what else it does.” Randall’s silent for a long moment, long enough for my outrage at being forced into getting scrubbed to rear its head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.
“No, you’re not.” I tap my temple. “I can tell.”
He grimaces. “I couldn’t stand by and let you sacrifice yourself. Not over this.” His fear and fury at the situation matches my own; our connection practically seethes with it.
“It was my call, not yours. If I had more time, I would’ve negotiated a way to get us out of here. Now, any bargaining power we had is gone along with the data.”
“It was killing you.” My stomach lurches in remembrance. “I already sat through one of your deaths,” he says, face tight with anger. “I won’t do it again.”
“That’s not–”
Denita barges into the room without so much a knock. “Come with me.”
Randall holds my gaze for a beat longer then looks away as though I mean nothing to him. Still angry, but more at the helplessness he felt watching me deteriorate, rekindling all the old hurts when we were forcibly disconnected the first time by Aventine. I follow Denita and Randall back into Charon’s makeshift headquarters, chin held high in a shallow attempt to mask my fatigue.
If the bar’s basement was crowded before, now it’s filled to bursting with more operatives in the Disconnect rebellion. Charon claps his hands when he spies me and Rik. “Excellent. Now that all the players are assembled, we can get down to business. Based on our intel and the data so kindly provided by Emery here…”
Charon gestures to me with a flourish, and I can’t help but cringe as people’s gazes dart toward me.
“…it looks like the government stumbled onto the changes in the registry and wanted to fix them, wonders of wonders. To do that, they enlisted Emery and two decoys to transport the data to the city’s network file servers in the Understory where the original version could be restored, leaving the public none the wiser.”
He points to himself and the other Disconnects. “We wanted the data as incontrovertible proof that our records were tampered with, putting a stop to yet another government cover-up.” He points to the screen, Sheridan’s image still displayed there. “This woman or the people she works for are either behind the original data breach or saw the transaction as an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what, though?” someone asks.
“Blackmail, extortion, who knows?” Denita says, dismissively.
“Maybe,” Charon allows. “But think about the people she works with. Business sectors across the city. Industries all over New Worth are facing uncertainty as to how their business models will change once Emergence becomes a reality. Some simply won’t survive outside the dome.” His gaze jitters over the crowd. “I believe the Department’s colluding with these businesses so they’ll be better positioned once the glass comes down, and they’re stealing our land to do it.”
A current of dismay runs through the crowd.
“There’s another registry field the patch’s supposed to roll back, but no one can figure out what it’s for,” Denita says over the murmurs.
“But the fact that someone secretly put it there can’t be good,” Charon says.
Whoever did this has gone against everything Emergence stands for. I catch Charon’s eye. “Now do you see why we need to get this information to the City Council? Keeping us here just makes our job harder to convince them they need to act. As it is, there’ll be questions because you broke the chain of custody.”
“And you think they’ll believe you? A disgraced courier?”
That stings, but I try not to show it. “I’ll have a better chance, yes.”
He shakes his head. “This is just one injustice in a long list of injustices we’ve faced. But this time, they’re going after our homes, our futures, a life not tied to this broken city. How can you ask us to trust in a system that has everything to gain if they simply look the other way?”
“I have to believe–”
“Even if the Council ruled in our favor, it doesn’t change the fact there’s a ve
ry powerful faction who’ll do anything to get what they want. All that’s left for us to do is escape the tyranny of this city once and for all.” An impromptu cheer goes up.
Charon looks at Randall. “And good ole Randall here’s going to lead us home.” Outside, beyond the dome, fresh air on our faces.
Rik’s surprise filters through. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t this.
My mouth falls open. “You can’t possibly think–”
“We are tired of being passed over, the lies, the manipulation,” Charon continues. “Time for us to take back our lives. Start anew.”
Randall crosses his arms. “You can’t be serious. Besides, there’s no way out that isn’t monitored.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” Charon gestures to the room. “We’ve been working on an exit strategy for years, and we won’t wait any longer.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I say. How many times has Rik said the Disconnects are fools for wanting to push outside prematurely?
“That’s why we need Randall. How many planting trips have you gone on for Vector? You’re the only one who can lead us to sanctuary beyond the dome.”
Randall shakes his head. “I won’t do it.”
Charon pauses, his stare almost unbearable as he looks from Randall to me, then back again. “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have a choice.” He points his chin at me. “Unless we’ve misjudged your attachment to Emery here.”
“He’s not doing it, no matter what you do to me.” I step in front of Randall, as if by blocking him from view I can keep any of this from happening. >>This is all my fault. I never should’ve gotten you involved.>>
<
>>No, it’s not. This whole situation’s what I’ve tried so hard to protect you from.>>
Randall’s quiet, along with the room around us. <
>>Rik–>>
He meets Charon’s gaze. “I’ll do it.”
The bar’s basement has a trapdoor leading into a humid Underground tunnel. Before we’re forced into it, Charon fastens a metal and plastic collar around my neck that immediately snuffs out my connection to Rik. He gets a collar as well. “No more secrets, you two,” Charon says. For a moment, I wonder if Randall’s going to punch him. Charon must worry too since he steps away, looking guilty.
Whenever Rik vanishes from my mind, I feel like I lose another piece of myself, and this time’s no different. But I relax slightly at Rik’s calm face. He gives me a wink and makes the hand sign for trust me. Remembrance washes over me at the signals we used in Partners in Crime, a combination of sign language and military hand signs. Like putting on a long-forgotten outfit and realizing it still fits perfectly. We might be our analog selves once more, but at least we’ll still be able to communicate right under the Disconnects’ noses.
My relief’s short-lived once we enter the tunnel. It’s so dark I can barely see, let alone sign. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes to acclimate the best I can to the crawling dark around me, the press of humidity, and the never-ending droplets of water – at least I hope that’s what they are – that trickle down from a crevice somewhere.
When I open my eyes, I can’t quite stop the squeeze of panic at the near-complete darkness my unenhanced vision can barely make sense of. The walls of the tunnel slowly resolve, my white gloves outstretched before me, as I make out phosphorescent paint along the ceiling, marking our path past abandoned subway lines and unused maintenance access points that run parallel to sewer and water pipes. The skeletons of pre-dome infrastructure transform into what looks to be a natural cavern of sorts, though the silence here feels more alive than the manmade areas we passed through earlier.
The natural cave opens up, illuminated by generator-powered lights. Over the hum of the machinery, voices bounce off rock. More of Charon’s followers have gathered here, the heart of the Disconnect unrest, the same people who’ve thrown New Worth into turmoil. But I can’t blame them, not after learning of the forces working against them firsthand.
Denita parades us through the cavern, which looks more like an improvised shelter than a staging area for our exodus outside the city, before leading us to a small cell carved into rock. “We move out in a couple of hours.” Then she locks us in.
“Your friends aren’t much better than mine,” I say with a look at our temporary prison. A small cot, a sink, and a bucket. Lovely. “But the accommodations leave something to be desired.”
“It’s not funny, Emery.”
I draw back at the frustration in his voice. He only calls me Emery when he wants to put distance between us. “No, it’s not. But I don’t know what else to do.” My Aventine training can’t help us. All the arcade scenarios I’ve completed over the years are child’s play compared to the stark reality of leaving the city behind along with everything I’ve ever known.
Panic unfurls in my chest, pressing against my ribs. “I don’t know what to do,” I say again, my voice cracking.
Our prison’s dim enough, I only see his gloves ghosting closer until they settle on my shoulders. Then the rest of him comes into view. I still startle, a reflex so ingrained I can’t stop it, not even for him. He grimaces, as though pained by my reaction, but he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t pull me closer either. Just lets the weight of his hands sink into my bones, letting me know I’m not alone.
“We’ll figure something out. Once Charon’s satisfied, maybe we can come back–”
“Like that’ll happen. Besides, in a twisted way isn’t this what you wanted? To help the Disconnects? Become one yourself?”
His hands tighten, as though he can’t decide whether to hug me or shake me.
“Yes, I wanted to get my implant removed, all right? Because I couldn’t stomach a future without you in my mind. But now…” He shakes his head, fighting with himself over what to say. “Knowing what we could have if we didn’t have to worry about anything else, I’m not strong enough to give you up a second time.”
If we were synching, he’d be able to make sense of the snarl of emotions swirling through me, at what I can’t put into words. We’ll have to start over, learning a new language composed of looks, speech, and subtle movements to get through whatever comes next. A tremor goes through me at the thought. “But it’s too late, isn’t it, with the collars…”
“This is how we started, remember?” He holds out his gloved hand, and I take it as though it’s just another checkpoint in Partners in Crime. “We’ll have to go back to basics. Except this time you’re the rookie.”
And just like that, everything is easy between us.
“You’re still mad the AI determined I had more experience to play the lead detective? I don’t believe it.”
He smiles, his teeth flashing white in the dark. “It was a blow to my pride some random girl could outclass me in an arcade game. But now that I know you’re a courier with the actual skills to back it up, it doesn’t sting quite so much.” He turns serious. “I meant what I said, though. I’ve been dealing with the Disconnects for a lot longer than you have.”
“And yet you never suspected Charon?”
“I mean, I knew he was a true believer. We’ve been working together for months to find Disconnects decent jobs throughout the city. Beyond that… I’m not exactly surprised. Just wish we weren’t caught up in their rebellion.”
“You and me both.” I’m quiet for a moment. “Do you think they can do it? Get all these people outside without getting caught?”
“There’s a good chance we’re already on the other side of the glass, actually.” That makes sense. The bar was on the outskirts of the Terrestrial District, and we must’ve walked for a good hour to reach the cavern. “We’ll have to tunnel further out to avoid the proximity sensors running along the perimeter of the city. They’ll alert the authorities if they’re disturbed, making a quiet escape impossible.”
“So if they manage all that, we’ll be in the clear.”
“They don’t have a death wish. You saw the supplies they have. They must’ve been planning for months, maybe longer. Plus these tunnels didn’t just appear overnight.”
“And you’ll help them.” It isn’t a question.
His gaze drops to the floor. “If it’ll keep us both safe, I will.”
I roll back my shoulders, force myself to smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like outside.”
A strangled chuckle escapes him. He still hasn’t decided what to do with his hands, so I decide for him, stepping in close, looping my arms around his waist.
Before the face-to-face meeting at Brita’s party, before I knew who he was, before I knew him, I was so worried we wouldn’t click physically, killing any potential between us. Such shallow fears seem so foolish now after everything we’ve been through. He’s the person I constructed in my mind, externalized. The wry humor, the way he forces me to confront my own assumptions, his dependability no matter the situation. All those things are still there, wrapped up in a package I can hold in my hands, not just my head.
It’s as simple and complex as that, and I’m still learning how to adjust to Rik-as-Randall. Rewriting stimuli. I have to trust in the weight of his gaze, take comfort in the steadiness of his frame under my hands, and the intent of his words, even though our connection is blocked, stripping away nuance and emotional context.
It’s an imperfect system. But trapped Underground, with his steady heartbeat underneath my ear, his arms anchoring me to his chest, maybe it’s exactly what I need.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Later, sometime after I collapsed on the cot, still drained from my bout with the curdle, a loud explosion rumbles through our cell. I jump out of my light doze and seek out Rik, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me. “No turning back,” he says.
“That’s been true for a while now.”
I’m rewarded with a brief grin. The blast must’ve cleared our way to the surface since a few minutes later there’s a brisk knock on the door. Denita escorts us back to the main chamber. “Grab a pack and join the others.” We select ours from a motley assortment of supplies in the center of the room.
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