by Susan Adrian
“So I’m talking to you on my own. Privately. In retrospect we were doing well in the field. Better than underground. I think that’s how you need to work. I think we really could protect you, regardless of what John thinks, and we could get things done. Together. While you live your own life.”
“I’m not working for you.”
She raises her eyebrows. “No? Not even if it meant saving a plane full of people?”
My breath catches. Is she psychic? Does she have a psychic watching me?
She laughs again. “If you saw the news, you’d think of it. It was the first thing I thought of. We could save them, Jacob. I could get you an object.”
I honestly don’t know what to say. I do want to save those people. I ache to. It feels like exactly what I should be doing with tunneling. Finding lost people. Saving people. The best part—the only good part—of when I was working for Liesel.
“I want my family out. Free. All of them.”
“Are you agreeing?” she asks.
I breathe in, slow, through my nose. “I’m not agreeing. I’m…listening.”
“And Lucas?” She raises an eyebrow. I don’t know if she knows yet that Lucas is my family.
“And Lucas.” I swallow. She just watches me, and I know that’s all she’ll do until I say something else. “What do you want to do?”
She smiles, like the cat with a mouse in its belly. “Nothing, yet. I’m going to need to broach this with John, if you agree. He’ll require some convincing. But for now, while you think about it, take this.” She hands me an old-style pager. “This doesn’t interfere with their satellite. If it buzzes, meet me back here as soon as you can. Under the trees, so the satellites don’t catch us.” She points at it. “There’s a button on the side. Push that if you want to meet with me.”
“It’s a tracker,” I say. “You’re just planting a tracker on me.”
She shakes her head. “I told you, I don’t need to. Throw it out if you want. But I think this might be your best shot at getting everything. And mine.”
She nods, slides into her car, and drives away.
I hold the pager in two fingers. That is not what I expected at all.
*
Rachel and I decide to sleep that night in the car. Neither of us wants to spend the bit of money we have left on a hotel, not when we know we’re being watched anyway. Better to hunker down in one known place until we figure out our next move.
The old me wouldn’t have even thought something like that. I’m getting more like Dedushka every day.
I do wonder, for a minute—a couple of minutes—what it would’ve been like to get a hotel room, just me and Rachel. We haven’t been alone long enough to be together before, and if we got a hotel room with just us, with one bed…I think of the kiss, and I don’t think we could’ve resisted.
But it feels like the wrong time for that. With everything.
Though I could be persuaded.
Instead we spend the time talking the situation over, up, down, sideways and inside out. More than we probably need to, considering there aren’t really that many valid choices. Rachel’s asleep, and I’m still going over them.
1. Go to the door like Dedushka did. Negotiate the release of my family. This is dumb, and neither of us wants to do it.
2. Page Liesel, enlist her help, and get everyone released first. Say I’ll work with them if she does that. Then take the serum and tell Dad and Liesel, when Mom and Myk and Dedushka are safe, that I’m out of the game.
This is my play. I don’t feel any particular urge to be honest and straight-up with Liesel. She never was with me. And if I can use her offer to leverage everyone out first, instead of trusting Dad’s grace to do it…it feels like a stronger position.
And I can maybe even save the people on that plane.
The major weakness is Lucas. They know he has a power already, if they know he was with Smith. They won’t just let him go, and I can’t figure out a way to fix that problem. He leapt from one prison to another.
I’m going to have to figure that one out later. Mom and Myk first, and Dedushka.
But if I go with choice 2, that means I’m going to have to trust Liesel to let the rest of them out. That’s the scariest part of all. I’ve been there before, too many times. Hell, I was just there with Smith. How can I trust any of them to do what they say they’ll do?
I look back at Rachel, stretched out in the backseat. She looks somehow utterly comfortable, her head on her elbow, her hair curving around her face. Her lashes are long and dark, her cheeks that pink that made me notice her first. I’ve watched her sleep in so many strange places over the past weeks. In a rail yard, on Smith’s plane, in Dad’s other base. In the van so many nights. She’s stayed with me through everything, though I still have no clue why. Why I got so lucky to have her with me, in this craziness.
I think I love her. That’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself. I liked her before—wanted her, even craved her—but it’s different, now that I’m getting to know her for real. I can imagine being with her after this, now that I’m almost free of this thing. Figuring out a life together. Some version of what we originally wanted, her at Berkeley, me at Stanford, meeting in the middle.…
I scramble over the seat, wanting to be near her, wanting to be romantic or something and wake her up, but she sits bolt upright with all the noise I make. I laugh over how smooth I am not, and she laughs too, startled. Her eyes bright, a little sleep-crease on the side of her cheek.
I kiss her, somewhere between that hard, passionate kiss and the usual soft exploratory ones. This one has the awareness of love in it, somehow. It’s deeper, whole. We are whole together. I kiss her neck, her shoulder, she kisses my chest. Before I realize what is happening most of our clothes are off, unnecessary.
I could be persuaded.
No matter what else happens, for this little time, all is right with the world.
36
RACHEL
Love by Matt White
I wake up curled with Jake in the backseat of the car, using our discarded shirts as blankets. He’s still asleep, one arm warm around me, his hair flopping over his face. We’re together. For however long it lasts. Even if it was only once, I don’t regret last night at all. I run one finger over his cheek. The stubble is getting long again, out here. I lean up and kiss it, prickly on my lips.
“Mmmm,” he groans, his eyes fluttering.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “We’re safe from the satellites here, right?”
He opens his eyes, pulls me tighter, and kisses the top of my head, sleepily. “God, I hope so.”
“I can just imagine some DARPA operative watching this scene closely.” I grin. He kisses me again, his lips meeting mine. The warmth floods through me. This is what I need. Right here, for now. I reach for his arm, lose my balance, and fall off the seat onto the floor.
“Are you all right?” Jake asks, all worried, but I just laugh. Surprised, but not even really embarrassed.
“That seat isn’t really meant for two people. Especially when one of them takes up as much room as you do.” I sit up, find my clothes, and start to pull them on. “I don’t think we have anywhere to be today, until we decide what to do or we hear from Liesel. Want to go for a walk?”
We end up walking along a little trail that winds through the trees over soft, pine-strewn ground. It’s narrow, maybe more of a deer track than a trail, but most of the time wide enough for the two of us to walk together. Jake takes my hand to help me over a log, and doesn’t let go. His hand is a little bit damp, but I don’t mind. I feel connected, for the first time in a long time.
We come to a trickle of a stream and decide to sit on the bank, listening to the gentle burble of the water.
“It’s so calming,” I say, dipping my fingers in the cold water. “We always took beach vacations. I haven’t been in the mountains much.”
“I have.” Jake pulls his knees to his chest. “With my dad. We did beach vacations too, depend
ing on where we were living. But my favorite was the camping.” He makes a circle in the dirt with one finger. “Did I ever tell you about Glue?”
I almost laugh, but I can tell he’s serious. “Glue?”
He nods. “Not the school supply. It was a family ritual, something we did every time we moved to a new house. That was a lot, when we were little.”
I dip my head and stay quiet, listening.
“The four of us—Mom, Dad, me, and Myka—would each say a line, and put our hands in together. ‘We Lukins stick together like glue…together we can make it through…” He looks up, his eyes hollow. “We’re so cracked now. Nothing could ever put us together, no matter what Dad thinks. I need to save the pieces I can.”
“You will. We will.” I lay my hand on top of his. We stare at the water for a while. It drifts by, oblivious, without a care in the world. “I have an idea. Why don’t we play a game?”
He groans, and I laugh. “Not like that. We pretend, just for a while, that none of this exists anymore. No power, no John or Smith or Liesel or any of that. And we say one thing we’d like to happen in the future.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll start.” I pull my hair up off my neck, and tie it in a knot. “In the future, I…will be a student at UC Berkeley, studying Poly Sci. I’ll have lunch every day in the quad and listen to people talk about politics, and maybe even argue with them. And I’ll win.” I point at him. “Your turn.”
He smiles, a little. “Okay. Same lines. In the future, I will be a student at Stanford, in public history. I’ll…be normal.” He leans back on his elbows. “Maybe not even a very good student. I don’t care at this point.”
“You’ll be a good student,” I say. “It’s Stanford. In the future I…will see you on weekends. We’ll meet at my apartment or yours, and not leave all day.”
He grins at me. “I use my turn to second that.”
We kiss, until I lose my breath. I pull away, lay on my back, and look at the sky. It’s deep, sweet blue, the color of my grandma’s china.
“In the future, my mom and I will make up and she’ll come and visit every once in a while, but not too much. And it will be nice.”
“In the future,” Jake answers, “My mom and sister and grandfather will be safe, and free of all of this.” He swallows. “Sorry, I think I broke the rules with that one.”
“It’s okay,” I say, quiet. “I wish that too.”
We stop the game there. But it worked, some. For a while we didn’t focus on the bad stuff, the terrible situation, but what we wanted it to be.
It gives us something to work for.
37
MYKA
I Turn to You by Christina Aguilera
I finally give in and start reading the Dorothy Hodgkin biography. It doesn’t hurt Dad if I don’t read it, and it helps pass the time. So when the door opens I don’t even pay attention. It’s probably just food, or them telling me I can use the bathroom again.
Except this time it’s Liesel. And…behind her…Mom.
I fly out of the chair and hug Mom as hard as I can. She hugs me too, rubbing my back, smoothing my hair. Until I finally let go, and look up at her. “You’re okay?” I realize I’m crying. “You’re really okay?”
“I’m fine, baby,” she says. She touches my cheek. “I’ve been right next door the whole time. And you’re okay too? They haven’t…done anything to you?”
I shake my head. “Dad wants to.” I gulp. “He won’t listen to me…”
“I’m sorry,” Liesel interrupts. “I really am. This isn’t for too long. She can’t stay. But I wanted to let you two see each other, and I wanted to give you some news.”
Uh-oh. She doesn’t sound like it’s good news.
“News?” Mom asks, her voice shaky.
“Complicated news,” Liesel says. “Go ahead and sit on the bed, and I’ll tell you.”
I won’t let go of Mom, so we move to the bed together. “Is this about Jake?” I ask. “Dad got a call…”
“Jake and everyone else too.” She takes a breath and sits in the chair, facing us. “I saw Jacob yesterday. He’s fine—out in the area around the base with Rachel. I haven’t told John I know where he is.”
“He’s not giving himself up again, for us,” Mom says. “No.”
“That’s not the plan,” Liesel says, her face stern, her tone a little sharp. She reminds me of one of my teachers. “Or the news. The news is that Grigory Lukin is here. He walked up to the base and turned himself in, so he could talk to John.”
“Dedushka,” I whisper, soft. He’s here. I feel like I should’ve known that, should’ve felt him. I really want to ask if we can see him, but I still don’t think she’s done.
“He brought a boy with him, Lucas Payne.” She looks at us strangely. “Do you know this boy?”
“No.” We both answer at the same time. I clutch Mom’s hand, lace my fingers through hers. I don’t want them to take her away from me again.
“Why?” I ask.
“Jake was working with Gareth Smith, apparently, and brought Lucas back with him. Abby, I’m sorry to be blunt, but Lucas is John’s son with someone else. He’s 15. Myka, he’s your half-brother.”
I frown. That doesn’t make sense. First, why was Jake with Crazy Smith? What the heck? Second, if I had a half-brother, why wouldn’t I know about it? Mom’s eyebrows are drawn tight together, her mouth pursed up.
“I’m sorry, Abby. But I wanted to let you know. I didn’t want you to be blindsided when you see him.”
“What is John doing with this boy?” Mom asks. “Taking him like Jake? Like Myka? Is he going to experiment on all of his children?”
I shift on the bed. I don’t like this.
Mom lets go of me and stands, her hands clenched. She paces in a little circle. “He’s a bastard. That’s what he is. A complete and utter bastard. All this time…he had another child? Another family? When I was mourning him…”
“All right, Abby,” Liesel says. “I understand this is difficult news.” She glances up in the corner of the ceiling. There’s probably a camera there. “I think you need to head back now.”
“No!” I jump up. “I need her here. You can’t—”
“I’ll stay,” Mom says, fierce. “We can stay here together.”
“I’m sorry, Myka.” Liesel takes Mom’s arm. “Abby. I’m trying to play within John’s rules as much as possible, while other things are in process. A final hug, and then I’ve got to get you back.”
I hug Mom as tight as I ever have, burying my face in her shirt like when I was little. “I love you,” I say. Will I ever get to say it again? I don’t know anymore, or what will happen until I do.
“I love you too. So much.” She pulls me even closer, tears dripping on my head.
“We’ve got to go,” Liesel says.
“I’ll tap on the wall, okay?” Mom whispers. “Twice means I love you.”
I nod. I let her pull away even though I don’t want to, and watch both of them go out the door. I’m alone again. But Dedushka is here, in the base. Jake’s nearby. And I have a half-brother I never knew about.
If I wasn’t so upset that would be interesting.
38
JAKE
Decisions by Nathan Lanier (Halo 4 Soundtrack)
I stand alone at Liesel’s meeting place, fidgeting. I made the choice. Door #2, and see where it leads.
Rachel really didn’t want to leave me here by myself, but I insisted. If it’s a trap, I want her far away from here. She’s my safety, my back-up.
Besides, I just want her safe. I feel the bumpy top of her ring in my pocket. She insisted. In case I needed to reach her.
Of course if Liesel doesn’t respond to the page button, I’m stuck here without a car for two hours, before Rachel swings by again to check.
At least I’m in the shade. It’s stupidly hot now, in the middle of the day. Not quite as bad as Florida, but almost. A low roast i
nstead of a broil. But it’s cold underground. I shiver. No. I don’t really have to go there. I just have to say that I’ll work with them. That’s different.
I don’t feel good trusting Liesel again. Better her than Dad or Smith, but not much. But she hasn’t called in the troops yet.
Besides, what’s my safe play here? If they’re tracking me now by satellite, they’ll track me if I leave. Eventually they’ll find me anyway, and drag me back here. No. Better to use what little advantage I have and try to get them free first.
I think I might throw up.
I hear it before I see it, a low rumble. Then another cloud of dirt, swirling. She’s not coming slowly. I swallow my doubts. She’s always wanted my talent so badly. But not like Dad does, for himself—she wants to use it for the world. She’s the Big Picture Queen.
Which is worrying, when you’re the little picture.
The car pulls up hard, and she flings open the door. I hesitate.
“Get in,” she calls, over the engine.
I lean over the door. “I want to talk out here. Neutral territory.”
She snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jacob. I’m not abducting you anywhere. But this is a lot more comfortable than standing in the heat, and I want to keep moving. Get in.”
I take a look around to check—she’s alone—and slide into the passenger seat, a wave of cold air washing over my face. As soon as the door shuts she jets forward. I guess it doesn’t surprise me that she’s an aggressive driver.
We don’t say anything for a while. We’re heading out of Green Bank, north. The way Rachel and I went before. Trees crowding in on the road. At least I know it’s away from the base. It isn’t a trick.
“I don’t have an object for you yet, from the plane,” she says. She doesn’t turn, her profile sharp and serious. “It’s only been a day. But you know that. What do you want?”
“How are my mother and sister?” I ask. “How are Dedushka and Lucas?”