by Malinda Lo
Amber’s expression hardened. “I do get that you think that way. I’m saying you don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
Amber wiped the tear away roughly, smearing her eyeliner across her cheek. “I mean you could date both of us.”
Reese stared at her in astonishment. “At the same time?”
“Not at the same time,” Amber said, as if Reese were being dense. “I’m not that into guys. Although David is cute, but—”
“No,” Reese said. For a second a kind of awful hope had burned in her, but she stomped on it with both feet. “How would that even work? Like I see you one week and I see him the next?”
Amber leaned her head against the wall. “Maybe. It’s not that unusual. Not for us.”
Reese was confused. “For us? You mean for the Imria?”
Amber nodded.
Reese’s eyes widened. “Well, it’s pretty unusual for humans.”
“That’s because humans are jealous all the time,” Amber said, sounding frustrated. “They don’t have any idea what their partners are thinking because they can’t do susum’urda. So of course they’re jealous.” She leaned forward, one leg sliding over the edge of the bed. “But you and David don’t have to be jealous. You have the ability now.”
Reese took a shallow breath. Her pulse was still thrumming within her from kissing Amber. She could still feel her, ghostlike, beneath her hands. “I really don’t think David would go for it.”
Amber scooted toward her, but she didn’t touch her. “Have you asked him?”
“I don’t have to ask him to know that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with you.”
Amber didn’t flinch. She only shook her head. “He doesn’t know me.”
Reese had to admire Amber’s self-confidence. She said gently, “I don’t think he wants to know you.”
Amber sighed. “We don’t have to be friends. Besides, if he really loves you, and this is what you want, he’ll try.”
Reese gave Amber a challenging look. “If I love him, and I know that he doesn’t want this, I won’t ask him.”
Amber raised an eyebrow. “If I love you, I won’t stop trying.”
Reese flushed. “Are we going to do this all night?”
Amber cocked her head. “We could.”
Reese moved to the edge of the bunk. “No. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”
Amber reached out and touched Reese’s arm. Reese looked back at her. “Reese,” Amber said. She was all longing, warm and waiting for her right there. Reese couldn’t hide her feelings either, and she no longer felt the need to. Amber knew. Amber had always known.
So Reese said the only thing she could think of to shut this down. “My mom is in the next room.”
Amber gave a short laugh, but her fingers didn’t move. “The door locks.”
Reese shook her head, smiling involuntarily. She got off the bunk, and Amber’s hand fell away. “We can’t, okay? I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Amber stared at her, and slowly her expression turned inward. “Okay.” She climbed off the bed and stood up, moving toward the door.
Reese felt as if she had kicked a puppy. “Amber.”
Amber looked at her, but her face was closed off now, distant. The black smudge on her cheek looked like a bruise. “What?”
Reese opened one of the cabinets in the wall and pulled out a T-shirt. She went to Amber and lifted the cloth to her face to wipe away the smeared eyeliner. Amber’s eyes glistened. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Reese said.
Amber nodded. She raised her hand to open the door, but at the last second she turned back to press a kiss to Reese’s surprised mouth. “I told you,” she whispered. “I won’t give up.” Then the door slid open and Amber left.
*
After midnight, Reese called Julian.
He answered on the second ring. “Hi.” He sounded wide awake. “What’s up?”
“How was your date?” She was lying in the dark in her room, the light from her phone casting a ghostly pall over her bunk.
“It was fine. I got back an hour ago. Can’t sleep so I’m working on the video footage for Bin 42.”
“What was his name again?”
“Evan.” He filled her in on their date. They had gone to see Butterfly at Midnight, an indie film about a painter obsessed with finding an elusive black butterfly. Julian described it as “pretentious but at least the painter was hot.” Afterward, he and Evan had gone to the diner across from the movie theater to have coffee.
“Did you kiss him?” she asked.
“No. He was cute, but he seemed a little too self-absorbed. He kept talking about how he’s going to shoot his own independent film this winter, but honestly, I was bored.”
“I thought you liked the moody artistic type.”
“I thought I did too. Maybe I was corrupted by hanging out with the soccer team last week. They do have really good abs.”
She laughed. “True.”
“Hey, what’s up with you? Why are you calling me so late?”
“What’s that thing where you’re in a relationship with more than one person at a time?”
“Polyamory?” He sounded confused.
“Yeah. Amber thinks we should—we should do that. Me and her and David.”
“Are you serious?”
She told him what had happened, brushing over the more intimate details. “I told her I can’t. And even if I could, David won’t.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No! He wouldn’t do it, anyway. He hates Amber, and he doesn’t like me enough to try to get over that.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. If he hates Amber, doesn’t that mean he’s really into you?”
She blew out her breath. “I told him I was in love with him, and he said ‘I know.’ ”
Julian broke into laughter. “He Han Solo’d you.”
“He what?”
“He Han Solo’d you. You know, in The Empire Strikes Back right before Han’s about to be frozen in carbonite, Princess Leia says, ‘I love you,’ and Han Solo says, ‘I know.’ You’ve seen it.”
She clutched the phone tighter. “I don’t remember that.”
“Good thing you have me as your friend, then.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Come on, it’s kind of funny, isn’t it?”
“I think your definition of ‘funny’ is different than mine,” she said sarcastically.
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. It just means he wasn’t ready to say it.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore. He broke up with me, and I told Amber I couldn’t be with her, so we’re all on our own now. Nobody has to say anything to anybody anymore.” She sounded bitter.
“I do know one person who’s poly,” Julian offered.
“I’m not poly.”
“I know, I’m just saying I know one person. He’s a friend of a friend, so I don’t know him well, but there are also a lot of gay guys who are in open relationships.”
“How is that different from being poly? Wait, I don’t care, I’m not doing that either.”
“Why not? Six months ago you weren’t even wanting to date anyone, and now you’re like, no, I’m monogamy only?”
“No, I’m going back to not dating,” Reese said sourly. “I was right—it is too much drama.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay. Well, you want something to take your mind off the drama?”
“Yes,” she said quickly.
“We heard from Sophia Curtis. We’re on. She’s giving us her footage, and she told us that she’s looking into the connection with Mr. Hernandez aka Vargas, the guy who was working for President Randall. Sophia says she found something that draws a clear line between the president and CASS, dating back to her time in the military, which we’ve never been able to verify before.”
“That’s great. When are you going to release the info?”
“Not till after the UN thing. I’m really hoping one of our i
nformants will come through with more info on the birds by then too.”
“Amber told me the government was behind the birds. Actually she said the government was doing genetic experimentation on all sorts of livestock using Imrian DNA. But the birds went crazy, and that’s why the government had to cover it up.”
“Really? Can you get her on the record?”
“She said she didn’t know that much about it but her mom might know more. Dr. Brand.”
“Will you ask her?”
“I can try, but I don’t know if Dr. Brand will go on the record with Bin 42. Regardless, I learned something seriously crazy today.” She thought back through what Amber had told her about the Imria. “I can’t tell you everything right now, but I’ll call you as soon as I know I can tell you.”
“Dude, tell me now!” he said, excited.
“I can’t. It’s too huge. But look—I never gave you the recording of the meeting with Charles Lovick. It’s in the back of the top desk drawer in my room. You should go over to my house tomorrow morning as early as you can, because my dad’s going to be leaving around ten. He’ll let you in; you should take it.”
“Sure. But what’s the news about? Can’t you give me a hint?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s about who we are. Who the Imria are. It changes everything.”
He let out a frustrated groan. “I can’t believe you’re leading me on like this!”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I just wanted you to know something’s coming. I’ll call you as soon as I can—Monday at the latest.”
“Okay, fine. But I better get the exclusive—don’t talk to anyone else.”
“I won’t,” she promised. “I should try to get some sleep. You be careful tomorrow.” She had a sudden burst of worry for him. She didn’t think CASS was keeping an eye on Julian, but she had no real way to know.
“I’ll be fine. You be careful too. I’m sure it’s gonna be dangerous, being trapped in a spaceship with two hot people who are both in love with you.”
“Oh my God, shut up. Good night, Julian.”
“Good night, Reese. Sleep tight.”
She hung up the phone, smiling in spite of herself.
CHAPTER 30
Reese thought she had prepared herself to see David on Saturday, but when he emerged from the ferry, she realized she was fooling herself. He was the first off the ramp, followed by his sister, his parents, and Reese’s dad.
“Welcome,” Nura Halba said, stepping forward to help them with their luggage.
Reese wished she had waited back at the ship, because now she had to greet David in front of their families, and this was the first time she had seen him since before the attack on her house. She didn’t expect him to drop his backpack and duffel bag on the ground and pull her into a hug.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she mumbled into his shoulder. Her hands slipped tentatively around his back. She smelled the faint tang of his hair product layered over the scent of his shirt. Fresh laundry.
I’m glad you’re not hurt, he told her.
She tried to prevent herself from sinking too deeply into him as they touched. She wanted to let herself go, but she was acutely aware of the fact that they weren’t together anymore. She let herself feel his relief that she was unharmed, but nothing more. She knew he was holding back too, and the sensation of his carefulness—as if he were tiptoeing around the edges of her consciousness—made her feel so awfully distant from him, even though the whole length of her body was pressed against him.
She pulled back before she got carried away. “I have so much to tell you,” she said.
He smiled faintly. “Okay.”
For a moment, Reese thought she saw something in his brown eyes that made her heartbeat quicken, but then she noticed Chloe in the background, watching surreptitiously. Reese lowered her gaze self-consciously. Out of the corner of her eye she saw their parents loading the bags into the SUV.
“We should go,” he said.
“Yeah.” She followed him toward the vehicle, where she greeted their parents.
At the ship, Nura Halba escorted them to their rooms on the third level. Chloe was wide-eyed and a little frightened; Reese heard her quick intake of breath as they passed through the atriums with their floating globes. When they arrived in the living quarters, Reese’s mom came out to meet them. There was a second round of greeting and hugging as everyone jostled through the corridor. Reese waited until they were all settled into their rooms and beginning to unpack before she pulled David aside.
“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked. She heard Chloe’s excited voice floating down the corridor as Halba explained how the voice-operated commands worked.
“Sure. You want to come in?” He gestured to his room and they went inside, closing the door. The space was identical to hers, but with a view of the whitewashed officers’ quarters instead of the hillside. She still thought the boarded-up buildings were a little creepy.
“There’s something else you should know,” she began. She had planned this part out. David was standing beside his bunk, one hand on his duffel, and she crossed the room and reached out to touch his arm, her fingertips grazing his bare skin. She sensed defensiveness in him like a rapidly rising shield, and she knew he thought she was going to tell him that she and Amber were together again. It’s not that. I told Amber I can’t be with her either.
David’s surprise was palpable. Really?
Yes. And then she admitted: I do have feelings for her, but I also still have feelings for you. There’s no other way to deal with it. It’s over. “I want to move on from this,” she said out loud. Her voice sounded remarkably steady. “We have to work together, you and me and maybe even Amber. All of this—” She gestured at the ship around them. “It’s important. It’s more important than us. I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to but I screwed up. You said that you hoped we could be friends again and at first I didn’t think I could do it, but—” She realized that her fingers had slipped down his arm and he was holding her hand now, and it almost undid her.
“We never stopped being friends,” he said when she didn’t continue.
She squeezed his hand. His fingers were warm and strong in hers. She felt regret like a shadow stretching between them, but at the same time, she felt his love. It was clear and startling: a gift she had yearned for but never expected to receive. She couldn’t understand how she could be so happy and so sad at the same time. When he let go of her hand, she missed him.
“Tell me what Amber told you about the Imria,” he said, unzipping his duffel.
The abrupt change of subject felt almost like a rejection, but she knew it wasn’t. It was David trying to do what she asked: to move on. She had known that talking to him wouldn’t miraculously erase all the hurt, but the reality was harder to bear than she had anticipated. It was going to take time for them to figure out how to make their friendship work again, when they both knew they wanted more.
“Okay,” she said, and as he unpacked, she told him everything.
*
Eres Tilhar began the day’s lesson by walking David and Reese through the mapping practice again. Reese was beginning to be able to shape her own consciousness into more of a contained presence; she was no longer a mass of conflicting emotions.
When they finished, Eres said, “There is much improvement. I am very glad to see that. At this point we can continue with the same practice—that is what we would normally do—but because you’ll be meeting with Akiya Deyir this afternoon, I want to ask you: Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
Reese tucked her hands beneath her thighs and glanced sideways at David. They had discussed this earlier; today was the day. Go ahead, she told him.
“We know you’ve already guessed,” David said to Eres. “Today we’re ready to talk about it.”
Eres nodded. “Good.”
They took turns explaining to Eres about their ability to
speak to each other telepathically. They told the teacher how crowds affected them, how sometimes they sensed not only waves of emotion but snatches of thought, and how their abilities had developed differently in each of them.
“To be clear: Reese, first you only sensed emotions, while David, you only heard broken thoughts?” Eres asked.
“Right,” David said. “But we can do both now.”
“Why do you think it happened that way?” Reese asked.
“It may simply be the way the adaptation affected you. We didn’t think it had been completely effective in David at first. We’d have to do more testing before we know for sure. Tell me more about how it feels when you sense a crowd’s emotions or thoughts.”
“It can be really confusing and overwhelming,” Reese said. “These lessons have helped. I try to block them out now—the crowds.”
“And how close to the crowd are you when this happens?” Eres asked.
“I think we have to be pretty close,” David said.
“Yeah,” Reese said. “I couldn’t sense them when I was inside my house and they were in the street.”
“What about your telepathic communication? You said you first discovered this when you were at Project Plato, separated. Have you communicated that way since then?”
“No,” David said. “We tried, but it hasn’t worked.”
“We’ve had to be able to see each other to communicate that way,” Reese said.
The teacher regarded the two of them thoughtfully. “I see. Perhaps it has something to do with your level of mental focus. You may have been more desperate to reach out to each other when you were at Plato. That situation could have forced you to focus your consciousness in a way you haven’t done since then.”
“Maybe,” Reese said. “It was a pretty intense experience.”
“Do you think we could do it again?” David asked.
“There’s no reason why not. If you could communicate from a distance before, I think you’ll be able to do it again. I do believe it will require practice on your part. Have you been able to hear the thoughts of any other humans? Or Imria?”
“No,” Reese said.
“Only in crowds, and that’s not the same at all,” David said.