When We Wake

by Karen Healey

  “I want to see Joph Montgomery,” I said to the air. I’d seen enough contemporary movies to know that places like this would have a building computer screening the guests.

  There was a pause just long enough to set my every last nerve on edge, and then the lobby computer spoke. “Please enter the elevator to your left.”

  A section of paneling slid away to reveal the elevator. There were no buttons inside the door. The elevator would deliver me to the right floor, and no other.

  I leaned against the shiny wall, second-guessing every choice that had brought me there and regretting everything I’d left behind—Abbey on my bed, Koko on my nightstand, Marie driving into the night, where absolutely anything could happen to her.

  Then I took a deep breath and braced myself for what had to come next.

  Bethari and Joph were waiting by the door, ordering it open before I even signaled the house computer.

  “Are your parents home?” I asked Joph.

  “Geya, Tegan. They’re out; come in.”

  “We saw the interview,” Bethari said. “First, you were amazing, and second, what are you doing here?”

  “I need help,” I told them. “I should probably tell you both that I’m in a lot of trouble, and I could get you in trouble, too, but I really, really need help.”

  “Of course,” Bethari said immediately.

  Joph tilted her head, the ever-present vagueness in her eyes abruptly clearing as she looked me over. I felt exposed and vulnerable, and absolutely not above begging. If I had to go to my knees on the plush, expensive carpet, I would.

  But I didn’t need to. “Come into the lab, Teeg,” Joph said, and led me through her home.

  Joph’s lab was behind a triple-locked door. I’d been expecting dust and disorder, broken equipment, and the mess of failed experiments—something more like an alchemist’s hideaway.

  But Joph was a scientist. The lab was spotless and impeccably organized, racks of drawers were labeled, and equipment I couldn’t even guess at hummed in the welcome chill of the temperature-controlled atmosphere.

  “This room is on a closed system,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gesturing for me to join her. “No one comes in here, not even my parents, and no one can get through my security.”

  “Whose security?” Bethari asked archly.

  “Bethi helped,” Joph said.

  “That’s right, and then you locked me out. I haven’t been in here for a year.”

  Joph looked at me. “What happened after the ’cast, Tegan? And what do you want us to do?”

  I took a deep breath, feeling the butt of Dawson’s sonic pistol against my ribs. I wasn’t any more certain than I’d been on the way up, but I didn’t have any choice. I told them everything.

  Bethari gasped when I got to the bit where Dawson pulled a gun on me and again at the part where Marie clocked him with the fruit bowl.

  Joph watched me with her big eyes, occasionally scribbling a note on her computer, but she was largely silent and still.

  “So I was hoping one of you would know someone,” I said, and faltered to a stop.

  Bethari was frowning. “I don’t know. I might—”

  “Sure thing,” Joph said.

  I blinked at her. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously?” Bethari said.

  “Well, it might be a little complicated, but you don’t have to worry about that part. I’ll get you some clothes, Teeg, and make some calls. Don’t touch anything!”

  Bemused by her sudden exit, I unclasped the thick belt, carefully laying the pistol on the floor. I could feel myself withdrawing into a cold, tight knot.

  “I can’t believe this! She’s been keeping secrets! From me!” Bethari jumped to her feet and started looking at the lab equipment, obviously dying to disregard Joph’s instruction to keep her hands to herself. When she spoke again, her voice was quite different. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t look okay.”

  “Fine. I’m totally crap—is that what you want me to say? I screwed up in the interview; I asked Dawson about the Ark Project; I’ve lost Marie her job and got her in a lot of trouble, and you guys, too; and I still don’t know what the army’s been hiding or what it has to do with me and Operation New Beginning.” Her concerned face was blurring behind a veil of my tears. I dashed them away with the back of my hand. “I’m just kooshy, Bethari.”

  Joph came back in. “He’s on his way. Teeg, are you okay?”

  I couldn’t even laugh. “No,” I said.

  “I can give you something to help,” she suggested, putting the clothes carefully beside me.

  I shook my head and steeled myself. “My brother died,” I said. “I mean, everyone died. But he died early, because of drugs.”

  Joph crouched by me. “Oh, Teeg, I’m so sorry. But these are safe, I swear. Nonaddictive, no bad side effects.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Bethari added. “I mean, I don’t take them, but… you really don’t look good, and you can’t overdose on Joph’s stuff.”

  “No, not like that. Not overdosing. After I got shot, Owen became a crystal addict. He robbed a gas station to buy more, and he got caught. So he went to jail, and there was a prison riot, and he died.” I took a ragged breath. “We didn’t have anything in common, except music and Mum and Dad and Dalmar. But I loved him and he loved me. He never did crystal before I died. And he died, and Mum lost us all.”

  Joph made a soft noise and pressed something into my hands. It looked like an asthma inhaler, only it was bright pink with a little blue button on the side. The little cartridge she slid into the top was plain, medicinal white. “You don’t have to feel this way. You can feel better,” she said. “Push here and inhale.”

  I hesitated for only a moment. Then I put the inhaler to my mouth and sucked in.

  It wasn’t a big change. I didn’t start seeing things or cooing about how great Joph’s hair was. I just gradually felt much, much better. The knot of horror in my gut loosened a little bit, and my shoulders came down from their protective hunch.

  Joph beamed at me. “There’s a muscle relaxant as well. It’s really great, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “But I can still move.”

  “Yep! This one’s popular with athletes wanting to increase their endurance before big events. They take a breather, then they can push themselves without stressing.”

  “Taking a breather,” I said. “Cute.” I tugged my clothes off, relaxing even more as I dropped the heavy tunic and tight leggings onto the floor. Joph had brought me a flowing bat-wing shift and loose drawstring pants. The hem that hit her halfway down the calf was nearly ankle-length on me. I hitched the pants up under a scarf belt until I was sure I wasn’t going to trip, and I stuck the sonic pistol in my belt.

  Bethari had given up all pretense of trying to mask her curiosity and was openly rummaging through Joph’s cabinets.

  Joph watched her for a moment, frowning slightly. When her computer beeped, she took a container from her pocket, extracted a pill, and popped it into her mouth. “My antiandrogens,” she said in response to my look.

  That wasn’t some future slang; I knew what antiandrogens were. In her general Educate and Involve Tegan for Great Justice program, Alex had included a very brief rundown on the mechanics of gender transition.

  Joph misinterpreted my expression. “I was born male-bodied,” she explained. “These help fix that.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s just… I didn’t know you were in transition.”

  “Huh?”

  “Old word,” I said hastily. “And that’s cool! I was just surprised; I didn’t know.”

  “Now you do,” she said.

  “I know lots of things,” I said. “Lots and lots of things, but none of the right ones.” I flopped onto my back, blinking at the soft ceiling lights. “I need to know more things.”

  “Maybe I should have adjusted the dosage,” Joph said. She
leaned over and put her fingers to my throat, featherlight. “No, your pulse is fine.”

  “Serbolax!” Bethari said. She had a handful of bright pink pills, and she was staring at her ex-girlfriend. “Joph, this is Serbolax, isn’t it? The cure for Travis Fuller Syndrome?”

  Joph looked shifty. “It might be?”

  “It’s what the label says. There are thousands of these pills! It’s you. The hidden supplier I’ve been chasing all over Melbourne is you.”

  “That’s a big conclusion to leap to,” Joph protested.

  “Don’t you even. How did you—what? You’re involved with smugglers now? Is that who you’ve invited to take care of Tegan? Some criminal with a heart of gold smuggling medicine to thirdies?”

  “You might say that,” a new voice said.

  Bethari swung to face him, her jaw dropping wide.

  In the lab doorway stood Abdi Taalib, looking completely unimpressed with me, Joph, Bethari, and the entire world.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  With a Little Help from My Friends

  Bethari had questions—lots and lots of questions—but neither Abdi nor Joph seemed inclined to answer them. They ignored her until she plopped down beside me in a huff, muttering to herself.

  Abdi and Joph were conducting an intense argument in whispers. But it was easy enough to guess the topic of their conversation.

  Abdi gestured toward the door, but Joph darted to block his escape. “You promised you’d help me with anything,” she said, a bit louder.

  Abdi’s back was tense. He murmured something, but Joph shook her head firmly. “This is the anything I want help with.”

  “Come on, Abdi! It’s Teeg!” Bethari added. “Look at her.”

  He did, reluctance clear in every line of his body.

  I waggled my fingers at him, and he met my eyes for the first time. After a second, he sighed, deflating.

  “All right. I’ll take you to someone I know, and they might take you to someone else, and that’s it.”

  “That’s not a very firm plan,” Bethari said.

  “They might not do it,” Abdi said bluntly. “They’re going to be very angry I have endangered the operation.”

  I stood up. I had so much energy all of a sudden. Joph’s drugs were awesome. “Actually, you won’t have to bother your smuggler friends at all,” I said. “I have a new plan. We’ll break into that warehouse and get some answers. We use whatever we find for leverage, to get Marie out of trouble, and make the army let me go and live my own life.”

  “Blackmail?” Bethari said. She looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to be excited or scared.

  “I think that’s what they call it. Are you in?”

  They tried to argue with me, of course.

  Actually, Abdi did most of the arguing. Bethari was on board almost from the moment I opened my mouth, and Joph gave in after a few minutes. But it took me and Bethari shouting Abdi down to get him to even listen.

  “Zaneisha’s keeping Carl Hurfest at home, and Gregor was off duty,” I said. “Even if Dawson’s awake, he won’t be found for a while yet. This is our best and only chance. We have to go right now.”

  “Tegan’s right,” Bethari said. “If we can record evidence of whatever they’ve got down there, we might have something of value to trade for Tegan’s freedom and Marie. And we know that whatever it is, it has something to do with Tegan.”

  “We don’t even know if there’s anything there worth recording!” Abdi protested.

  Bethari shoved her computer into her pocket. “Gregor murdered a man just for talking to Tegan about this Ark Project. Armies don’t kill people to keep unimportant secrets.”

  “You don’t know much about armies,” Abdi said, and scratched his chin. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “If you’re scared, stay here,” I told him with that same Joph-enhanced bravery. I couldn’t run from the army, but I might be able to defeat them. “I’m going. Now.”

  I started toward the elevator, Bethari close behind me. Joph joined us after a few seconds. “We can drive my mother’s car,” she said.

  “What do your parents do?” I asked. A two-car family would be paying massive energy taxes.

  “Mum’s in government. Dad’s an actor. It’s pretty boring.”

  “You and me are going to talk about some stuff,” Bethari said ominously.

  Joph sighed. “I couldn’t tell you about the smuggling, Bethari. It wasn’t my secret to share.”

  “But did you have to put on the ditz act?”

  “Yes. You know what it’s like at Elisa M. Everyone’s watching all the time. So I gave them something to watch. And now everyone knows I’m good at what I do, but no one suspects I’m capable of reverse-engineering a patent for Abdi. They just dismiss me as another fluffy chemist who spends too much time sampling her own wares.” She shot Bethari a sharp look. “Even you.”

  I was trying not to slow down or turn around, but I couldn’t prevent a sigh of relief when I heard quick footsteps behind us.

  “Thank you—” I began.

  “You’re going to get us killed,” Abdi snarled, and refused to speak to me all the way there.

  Looking back at it, I still think that if I knew everything I know now, I would have made the same choices.

  I did the right thing by trying to get answers, although I could have been smarter about how I did it. But there were costs I hadn’t considered, and I wasn’t the one who had to pay all of them.

  Joph parked the car several blocks from the warehouse, and we walked the rest of the way. If anything, my nerves were even more hypersensitized than during our first nocturnal visit, but this time I wasn’t afraid.

  We hid in the same alley while Bethari hacked into the cameras again and declared the coast clear. “I’m putting them on loop,” she said. “If there are any cameras underground, they must be on a closed system. But the outside ones are going to show an empty warehouse until we get out.”

  “If this is such a big secret, why don’t they have more security?” Joph asked. “Guards patrolling, or something.”

  “Because putting a lot of security on something would be a good way to attract attention,” Abdi said reluctantly. “It’s a risk, but a calculated one.”

  “Okay, I’m nearly ready to spring the gates,” Bethari announced. “You know, Tegan, things are much more exciting with you around.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “Any questions?” I asked. Abdi opened his mouth. “Any sincere, nonsarcastic questions?” He closed it. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  Bethari tore down the alert system on the gate in a matter of seconds. At her command, it swung open.

  “Now, that was too easy,” Abdi said.

  “Not if you’re this good,” Bethari told him sweetly, and strolled in.

  “Leave it open,” I warned. “We might have to leave in a hurry.” I’d given Abdi my sonic pistol, knowing that my uneasiness with the weapon might slow me down at a crucial moment. Joph had a sonic pistol of her own, and Bethari had some sort of Taser thing that she was supposed to carry for self-defense. I had nothing.

  The warehouse door proved to be a little more challenging, having a physical lock rather than an electronic one. Abdi eyed it. “I suppose we could try to break it down,” he said doubtfully.

  “Let the past-timer at it,” I said, kneeling by the door. I’d rummaged through Joph’s lab. She had a lot of tools, and a couple of them were close enough to torque wrenches. The hairpins Tatia had used to keep my do in place were very strong and, suitably bent, provided decent rake substitutes.

  “Keep watch at the gate,” I told Abdi. “Bethari, tell me if anything’s happening in the warehouse.”

  Then I got to work. It would have been much, much easier with Alex’s electric pick gun, but I still had the skills that had gotten us into a lot of technically impregnable construction sites and buildings slated for demolition. Locks apparently hadn’t
changed a great deal in a century.

  Twenty minutes later, the fifth pin jumped up, and I felt the door give. Joph signaled to Abdi, and we stepped inside.

  “You have to teach me that,” Bethari whispered.

  Abdi, Joph, and I shoved the scrap-metal bin away and pulled out our weapons. Bethari braced herself in front of the elevator hatch and gestured at her computer.

  “Black shoe alligator glue,” said the voice of the curly-haired soldier, shockingly loud in the empty space.

  Nothing happened. My heart sunk into my borrowed shoes.

  Then, smoothly and silently, the elevator rose, and the door opened.

  I stepped inside, and the others came with me. We were silent as the elevator descended, clutching our weapons tight.

  There was no going back from here.

  The corridor at the bottom was long, dark, and empty. I said a mental prayer of gratitude. Joph started to say something, but Abdi clapped his free hand over her mouth and shook his head. Computers gave us enough illumination to see, and a door twenty meters ahead was slightly ajar, a shaft of yellow light striking across the bare concrete floor. A second later, laughter came from that doorway.

  Abdi inched forward, sonic pistol in his hand, and Bethari slunk behind him with her Taser. He peeked around the door and signaled Bethari back. “Four of them,” he breathed in my ear. “Kitchen. Poker party. We can sneak past.”

  Walking past that door was scary, and the relaxing effects of Joph’s breather were wearing off. Opening the other doors along the corridor was even more terrifying. We didn’t know who might be waiting inside, or if some sudden noise would bring the guards out to shoot us all down. We found two dorm rooms with two bunk beds each, shower facilities, a storage room piled with supplies, and even a little laundry room with piles of black T-shirts and coveralls. The facility had obviously been prepared for long-term stays.

  I was feeling doubtful now. Maybe Abdi was right, ludicrous as it seemed. Maybe there really was nothing to find.