by Pintip Dunn
I choke on the air. Long, thin pipes run over my head, and I slither on my stomach down the box-like tunnel. William’s sneakered feet squeak against the metal, and I sense rather than hear Logan behind me. We crawl forward about ten yards. Then, I hear the sound of another panel being lifted. Moments later, William disappears down the hole. He catches me as I drop, setting me soundlessly on the floor. A few seconds later, Logan follows.
We’re in a closet. Light seeps through the crack at the bottom of the door. As my eyes get used to the darkness, I make out bottles of pills crowding each other on the shelves, along with gauze and test tubes and metal tongs.
I rub my ankle, but there’s no time to think of the pain. Footsteps and low voices drift through the closet door. At least Sully isn’t wailing anymore.
I open the door a couple of inches, keeping as low as possible. Logan’s chin brushes against my head as he positions himself above me.
Sully is strapped to a reclining chair, and a gag covers her mouth. The chair looks like the one in Bellows’s lab. What are they going to do? They already have her future memory. Now that she’s fulfilled it in real life, will they make her relive that memory, the one that actually happened, over and over again?
I shudder. Bellows would do it, too. He’ll give her the fumes. Make her relive the rape every day for the rest of her life.
Sully looks from one guard to the other. Even from the distance, I can read her story. Look at me. Haven’t I been punished enough? I’m the victim here. They made me into a criminal. If anyone should be punished, it should be them. Not me. All I ever did was receive a bad memory from the future. Look at me.
But her story is lost on the guards. The two of them bend over something on a side table, their gloved hands busy, not even glancing in her direction.
But I see you, Sully. And I’m so sorry this had to happen. I didn’t know. I thought you were safe. But you don’t have to worry. I’ll get you out of here and we’ll forget our memories ever existed.
One of the guards steps into my line of sight. I shift my gaze, and it lands on the side table. On a locked glass case with a rack of syringes inside.
My heart stops. One needle with clear liquid swimming in the barrel; another needle with red. The syringes are small and cylindrical. And identical to the one I used to kill my sister.
The guard has another syringe in his hand—a syringe with clear liquid.
“No,” I whisper. “Oh, please, no.”
But it’s too late. Even as I watch, the guard steps forward and slams the needle into Sully’s heart.
Her body bucks a few times. And then it is still.
41
I scream. I scream over and over until my head explodes. Again and again until my chest caves in.
But no sound comes out. I try to take a breath but can’t draw any air. A hand covers my mouth. Logan’s hand. Smothering me and keeping the screams inside.
I wrench away and collapse on the floor; I hug the linoleum tiles as if they can anchor me to this world. I don’t know how long I lie there. Long enough for William to open the closet door and announce, “They’re gone.” Long enough for Logan’s cool hands to turn sweaty against my shoulder. Long enough to wonder if I can stay here forever.
Logan’s hand moves to my neck, dislodging the wig from my head. “I’m so sorry, Callie.”
I pull the wig off and drop it into my lap. The fake hair flops against my legs like a dead animal. “How can this be her sentence after getting out of Limbo? How?”
“Once she fulfilled her memory, the ripples are taken care of.” William stares at the empty reclining chair. “FuMA has no other use for her…alive.”
Leaping to my feet, I cross the room and shove him as hard as I can. He tumbles into the chair.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I grip the collar of his shirt and dig my nails into his skin. When he flinches, I push my nails deeper. “You knew they were going to kill her, but you didn’t say anything. If you’d warned me, maybe we could’ve done something. Maybe we could’ve saved her.”
He meets my eyes. “What would you have done? Would you have exposed yourself to give her the antidote?”
I freeze. “There’s an antidote? Where?”
He gestures toward the locked glass case. “In case the administrator accidentally gets injected.”
Two needles remain. One clear and one red.
Once upon a time, Sully told me a story about a girl named Jules, who was supposed to attempt murder against her father. She was dragged into the fulfillment room by a detainment guard. A scientist followed, with two rows of needles. A few minutes later, they all walked out, seemingly unhurt.
She killed him with one needle and revived him with the next.
The red needle is the antidote.
I look around wildly and snatch the floating keyball off its magnetic stand. With all my strength, I smash it over the locked case. Shards of glass fly everywhere. Paying no attention, I reach between the jagged edges and pluck up the red syringe. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Callie.” William shakes his head. “It’s too late.”
The needle begins to vibrate in my hand. “What are you talking about? We can still find her body. We can save her.”
“In order to work, the antidote needs to be injected within a minute of the poison. It’s been at least ten minutes since they took her body away. I’m sorry.”
I stare at him. “No. There’s got to be a way.”
“Callie. She’s gone.”
My gaze drops to the red liquid swimming in the barrel. Red like the leaf that falls into a little girl’s hand. Red like the blood that no longer pumps through Sully’s body. “So much for not knowing anything because it’s not your department.” Sobs wrack my body. I fling the needle to the ground and bury my face in my hands.
Warm arms encircle me, and I know without looking that it’s Logan. “It’s done,” he whispers in my hair. “You can’t change it. We need to think about your sister. You’ve got to keep it together if we’re going to rescue her.”
“No.” It’s suddenly so clear to me. So terribly, horribly clear.
A stillness flows through me. It takes all my worries and silences them, picks up my emotions and numbs them. All of a sudden, I understand how a girl can look into her sister’s eyes and kill. Everything is turned off except for the task at hand. The solitary goal that must be accomplished.
“We can’t rescue her yet. If they can kill Sully over a bad memory, what else are they capable of?” My hands no longer shake. The tears have dried on my face. And if any pieces of my shattered heart remain, they cower from my sight. “Don’t you see? I can’t turn my back on this now. I owe it to Sully to see it through. I was meant to find this precog. I was meant to see a future so awful I’m willing to do anything to prevent it. I won’t act on it the way my future self does, but this part of my destiny, I need to fulfill.”
“Okay.” Logan nods, and I know I have his support, no matter what. He glances at William. “Are you still with us?”
William drags his eyes from the seam of the chair. “I risked my life giving you that extra minute to escape. I risk my life every day helping the Underground. And yet you still blame me for your friend’s death. For all of their deaths.”
He had a role. But so did I. I had a split second of realization before the guard plunged the needle into Sully’s heart. A split second where I could’ve burst from the closet, knocked the needle out of his hand. I should’ve figured out the red needle was an antidote from Jules’s story.
But I didn’t. I stayed in the closet and cried. That’s something I’ll endure for the rest of my life.
“I do blame you,” I say. “But I also blame me. And do you know who I really blame? The guards and Chairwoman Dresden and FuMA and future memory itself.”
William nods, as if he knows I can’t absolve him of his guilt. No one can. It’s something we each need to work through on our own.
&n
bsp; There’s one more lead I have yet to follow. William won’t like it, but we’ve gone way past anyone’s comfort level.
“I need you to take me to Chairwoman Dresden’s office,” I say to him. “When MK assisted Bellows in giving me the fumes, she had a bear in her backpack. A white bear, with a red ribbon. The same bear that was in my future memory. She, and by extension the Chairwoman, are connected to Jessa. I’m going to find out how, and you’re going to help me.”
He slowly gets to his feet. “I don’t like to involve my girlfriend in Underground business.”
“I don’t care.” My voice shakes, and I point to the chair. “A girl died right here. An innocent victim. I’m to blame, and you’re to blame. So you have to help me.”
He takes a shuddering breath and nods. “In light of…what’s happened…I’ll do it. I’ll get you into the Chairwoman’s office. But you have to follow my lead, okay?”
Logan and I both nod.
We are almost out the door when Logan turns back. Picking his way through the glass, he retrieves the red needle from the ground and the clear needle from the case.
My pulse jumps. “What are you doing?”
He checks to make sure the safety caps are on and then puts both barrels into a medical kit he finds on the table. “If we take these needles, they can’t be used on anybody else.”
“Yes, but…” I swallow hard. “Logan, that’s the needle I used. In my memory.”
He tucks the medical kit under his arm. “You have complete control over your decisions, Callie. You won’t use it unless you choose to.”
That’s exactly what I’m worried about.
42
MK stands behind a pure white desk of stacked concentric circles. Her desk screen, a thick pane of glass that goes all the way around her, is the biggest I’ve ever seen. A massive door of etched glass looms across from her, and the metal walls curve up to meet at a ringed skylight in the center of the ceiling.
Our footsteps tap against the white marble floors, and she looks up from the dozen or so files open on her desk screen. “Will.” The shine of her eyes rivals the sheen of her hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you, MK.” Glancing down the long hallway, he drops a kiss on her temple.
I hover behind Logan’s shoulder. With my reapplied makeup and the wig, we figured MK wouldn’t remember me if she doesn’t look too closely at my face.
“I thought I’d help you out.” He gestures at us. “I’ve got a couple of interns from a local high school, and I thought maybe they could watch Olivia so you could get some work done.”
At her name, a little girl sticks up her head from behind the cubicle, where she must’ve been sitting on the floor. I immediately recognize the pudgy cheeks and precisely-cut fringe of black bangs. Olivia Dresden. Chairwoman Dresden’s daughter.
“That would be so helpful.” MK drums the desk screen with her fingers. “The Chairwoman wants these files organized by the end of the day, and I’m at my wit’s end.”
“I don’t know why she doesn’t get a child-minder,” William says. “It’s a bit ridiculous, really.”
“She doesn’t like having outsiders poke into her business.” MK ruffles the little girl’s bangs. “And Olivia here is a breeze to watch, aren’t you, dear heart?”
Olivia nods. “MK, I need to tell my mommy about my nightmare.”
“Sure thing, but your mommy’s in meetings all afternoon, remember? So as soon as she gets out, I’ll let her know.” She turns back to William. “Have you heard the news? TechRA thinks they’ve found her. Our Key to future memory.”
I draw a sharp breath and shoot a look at Logan. His muscles bunch, as if he’s about to swim a race.
“It’s my classmate from school,” Olivia pipes up. “I thought we’d be able to play together, since she’s living here now, but MK says Jessa’s too busy taking tests.”
My knees buckle. I would’ve hit the floor, but Logan wraps an arm around my waist, holding me up.
“Hush, Olivia,” MK says. “We don’t know anything for sure. The scans of her brain are like nothing we’ve ever seen, but the scientists need to study her neural activity while she’s in the process of transmitting a message to her Receiver. Problem is, she’s not cooperating.”
William leans his hip against the desk. “How do you even know she has a Receiver?”
“Her scan shows all the signs of a Sender,” MK says. “And when there’s a Sender, there’s got to be a Receiver. One is useless without the other.”
“Wild.” A disarming smile spreads across William’s face. “Well, I’ll leave the politics to you bureaucrats. I’m nothing but a lowly guard, you know.”
“Oh, Will. You could never be lowly.” They melt into gooey smiles.
I was right. My sister actually is the Key. In a way, I’m not surprised. This whole day feels like a puzzle clicking into place, piece by piece. It’s not déjà vu, but something similar. Rather than having experienced this moment before, I feel the compulsion to live it.
It’s Fate’s fingertips at the small of my back. I have to come to the Chairwoman’s office. I have to listen to William talk to MK. I have to find this precog. Because somewhere, in some future world, I already did.
William straightens up. “Maybe the interns can entertain Olivia in Chairwoman Dresden’s office. That way, they’ll be out of your hair.”
MK hesitates. “I don’t know. She doesn’t usually allow outsiders in there.”
“It’s up to you, of course. I thought it might be easier to focus, if they were out of your way.”
She gnaws on her lip. “You’re probably right. I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. Olivia plays in there all the time, and I’ll be right out here.” She sighs and presses William’s hand. “You’re so good to me.”
William smiles, but I can see the pulse throbbing at his temple. His jaw is clenched so tightly his bones protrude against the skin. It’s killing him to lie to MK.
I steel my heart and turn away. Too bad. It killed Sully to be a part of this system. This is the way it has to be.
William pushes open the etched glass door, and I catch his arm. “Thank you,” I say, hoping he understands the words are more than a formality.
He blinks, and he can’t hide his resentment. Against me and himself. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. You can ask MK how to get there.”
And then he is gone.
Olivia immediately starts running in circles around the office. Behind the glass and steel desk, on top of the white leather couches, narrowly missing her knee on the mirrored coffee table.
I’m not sure what I expected. The white bear, waving its red ribbon from the top of the Chairwoman’s desk? But the answer must be here, somewhere in this room. The bear connects my sister to MK. And the Chairwoman herself must have documents on the precognitive.
Logan heads straight to the desk screen, jerking his head to indicate the blur of movement is my responsibility.
Floor-to-ceiling windows span the outside wall. I suck in my breath as Olivia speeds past. If I don’t slow her down, she might crash right through the glass. On her next circuit around the office, I snag her arm. “Olivia, do you want to stop and talk to me?”
Strands of hair tumble from her twin braids, and her chest heaves up and down. “I know who you are.”
“Well, yes.” I guess my disguise is no match for a hyper-observant six year old. “I’m Jessa’s sister. You’ve probably seen me picking her up at the T-minus eleven classroom.”
“No, that’s not it. I’ve seen you in my dreams.” She takes off running again and hops over Logan’s feet where he kneels in front of the desk, looking for a work-around to the desk screen. She screeches to a halt in front of me. “What’s he doing?”
“Nothing. Do you want to play a game? Or sing a song?”
Olivia looks over her shoulder. Logan’s all the way under the desk now, examining the underside of the screen. “I had a nightmare at school tod
ay,” she says. “I need to tell my mom about it.”
“You fell asleep? Are you tired now? You could take a nap on the couch, if you wanted.”
She rolls her eyes. “No, I didn’t fall asleep. You don’t have to be asleep to receive dreams, stupid!”
She dashes away again. Figure eights this time. Around the desk, behind the table. I watch her, the skin at my neck prickling.
“Olivia.” When she stops again, I crouch down so I can look into her face. Her round cheeks are flushed, and she squints at me as though she might need laser correction. “You’re not actually talking about dreams, are you?”
“My mommy says I should call them that, so people don’t get suspicious.”
My mouth is suddenly dry, and I lick my lips. “Suspicious of what?”
The loose hair flops around her face. “My mommy says I’m not supposed to talk about it. But I’ve seen you. You’re nice. You try to help me, in the future.”
“Olivia, when you say dreams, are you actually talking about visions? Visions from the future?”
She peeks at me. Something in my features must reassure her because she nods, slowly.
I let out a breath. My heart’s thundering so loudly I’m surprised it doesn’t send vibrations across the room. “Logan,” I call. “Can you come here, please?”
“What is it?” He crosses the room and squats down next to me. “The Underground scientists have developed a back door to these desk screens,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m almost in.”
“Forget about that for a moment.” I turn back to Olivia. “We’re looking for a precog. Someone who can see years and years into the future. Do you know anyone like that?”
She picks at a hole in the knee of her jumpsuit. “I don’t like that word. It sounds like a bot, when really, a precog is just a person, like anybody else.”
“Well, of course, a precognitive is a person,” I say. “A person who can help others, by preparing them for the future, or warning them about what might happen.”