Either metaphor suggested the worst was yet to come.
Emil couldn’t sigh. He had to endure whatever humiliation Winslow wanted to heap on him without reacting too much. This wasn’t about his job. It was about his friends and Kit’s friends. And Kit. And maybe more than that. For all those reasons, he had to please Winslow right now. Emil lifted his lips in a smile. It was more challenging than anything he’d ever done at the gym.
“Of course, sir. My apologies. I haven’t slept much recently.”
“What happened in Dr. Lange’s lab at four o’clock this morning?”
“I don’t know, sir. Something made the alarm go off.”
“Were you there?”
“No, sir. I was here, helping Kit find something to eat. He materialized in my room in the wee hours, having been chased through the Nowhere by something we’ve been calling a ghost. You saw one earlier, when the casserole dish fell off the table.” Emil gestured at its remains, still scattered on the floor.
“This is not a hotel, Mr. Singh. You are not permitted guests.”
“The ghost hasn’t permitted Kit to leave.”
“How interesting,” Winslow said, and for a moment, he wasn’t a corporate lackey interrogating Emil but a scientist pondering the world. “Why is that, I wonder?”
Emil could only shrug and shake his head.
“It’s not good to call it a ‘ghost.’ The name gives it an agency we can’t be sure it truly possesses. You think there are multiple entities?”
“Yes, sir. Kit could see them—so could Lenny, and I think it’s fair to say Travis could see the one in here. Kit said they were different sizes. One was larger than him and all the rest were smaller. They seem to be shapeless for the most part, but they have some substance in the Nowhere.”
“And here, they’re capable of knocking things off shelves,” Winslow said. “That seems to be all they do, though.”
“Except for the large one,” Emil said. Winslow had been so genuinely interested that he almost slipped up and added I think it was in the lab earlier. “I’m sure Dr. Heath reported to you that Kit and I encountered it on our first run together, when it knocked us into what I suspect was another reality, or at least another planet.”
“A subject on which I have many more questions,” Winslow said. “But I suppose, for now, since the runner is gone and you’ve assured me you are awake only by coincidence and you were not in Lange’s lab this morning, I can let you return to bed and we can discuss things at a more reasonable hour.” Winslow was no fool, and his expression was skeptical as he spoke. Perhaps having him walk in during Kit’s loopy, fatigue-inspired flirtations was a blessing in disguise. He thought Emil was being cagey because he was sleeping with Kit.
If only that were all there was to it. Emil merely nodded at Winslow and escaped the conversation as quickly as he could. As he stepped into the hall, he couldn’t stop himself from looking around for Kit and the other runner, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Kit’s plan backfired immediately. He’d expected Travis to step into the Nowhere, but instead he slung an arm around Kit’s shoulders and manhandled him into the hallway. Travis pushed him against the wall. At least he kept his arm off Kit’s windpipe. Still, he got way too close and practically spit in Kit’s face with his question.
“How much did they offer you?”
“That’s my line,” Kit said. If Travis was asking, it meant he was worried. Maybe he didn’t intend to dump Kit in that cell. “You afraid of the hand that feeds you, Travis?”
“As we both should be!” Travis hissed. “I can’t believe you’re fucking one of these scumbags. Do you know what they do to runners here? Do you know what they think of us?”
Emil wasn’t a scumbag. Kit didn’t want to talk about Emil with Travis. “You work for them.”
“Yeah, because they fucking own me now, and if you stick around here, they’re gonna own you. You have no idea what they did to me. You don’t want to fuck with these people, Kit.”
“If you’re so scared of them, why didn’t you ask for help? Maybe you didn’t trust me, but you know Aidan would have taken up your cause. He lives for that shit. And Laila would have helped. You didn’t have to turn on them.”
“It was me or them, Kit. You’ll see how it is soon enough.”
“You’ll see how it is when I get Laila and Aidan out,” Kit said. “Go ahead and take me there. I’m not in great shape but between the four of us, we could work it out.”
“Which part of ‘don’t fuck with Quint Services’ did you not hear? They will vivisect me, Kit.”
Travis always wore tailored jackets and sunglasses. His hair was devil-may-care. He rode a nicer bike than Kit’s. He was too cool to say hi to Zin or Louann. He strode through the world, effortlessly edgy and not owing anyone a thing, but he was a caricature of a sexy bad boy. Travis Alvey was a goddamn coward.
“They fucked with me first,” Kit said.
“They don’t even think we’re human!” Travis blurted. “Did you know that? Oswin Lewis Quint is part of some insane group that subscribes to this theory that runners are from some other reality, which is why we can get into the Nowhere, and therefore they can’t trust us because we have suspect loyalties. To some other world! That’s why they want to take us apart until they find out what makes us tick. They have no plans to put us back together.” He took a ragged breath. “Think about it, Kit. Why are there no born runners working for Quint Services? How come they brought in this elite team of former Orbit Guard normals for a mission that specifically requires our skills? Why try to make more runners—or build a door—when there are already runners out there, and the whole point of us is that we don’t need doors?”
Travis wasn’t whispering anymore. His voice had risen in pitch and volume. If Emil and Winslow were quiet in the kitchen, they could probably hear him. The whole thing made Kit’s heart pound, and he was too tired for that. Even the thudding of his heart sounded sluggish in his chest.
He didn’t want it to make sense.
Does Emil know? he wondered again. Kit had concluded that Laila and Aidan’s imprisonment was a surprise to Emil. And he’d seemed eager enough to get them free. But maybe he objected to the methods and not the idea. Had Emil known that Quint felt this way? Did Emil feel that Kit was some kind of untrustworthy alien?
No. Not possible. And yet… Emil hated and feared the Nowhere. It had been obvious in every trip they’d made. Did that fear extend to Kit himself? He didn’t have the energy to consider it. “Are we going or not?” he demanded.
“I’m getting you out,” Travis said, his voice low. “Winslow’s look wasn’t enough of an order. I’ll pretend I misunderstood, okay? Don’t come back once you’re out. Steer clear.”
“And what if they order you to come collect me?” Kit asked. “What then?”
“Then you won’t be able to say I didn’t warn you.”
Travis tightened his grip on Kit’s shoulders and jerked them into the Nowhere. He could have done it with more grace—or maybe he had, and Kit was so tired that nothing felt right to him. Would it have killed Travis to say “Here goes” or something? Kit would have loved even one more second to prepare his battered body for what he had to do.
He was lucky. Facility 17’s poltergeist, one of the smaller ghostly entities, showed up right away. Kit squirmed out of Travis’s hands and shoved him away. He dove for the ghost. He didn’t have much of a plan, other than pushing the thing in Travis’s direction and thinking chase him not me as hard as he could. Foolish, reckless, unlikely to work—it was the best Kit could do under the circumstances. If only he could catch the damn ghost.
It bounded away from him and he darted after it. His eyes on that blue light, he swam through the blackness until his limbs burned. It made turn after turn, streaking across his vision, and he found himself flipping over to chase it back in the opposite direction. Travis was no longer with him. Kit was dizzy. He had one turn left, maybe, before his concentrat
ion would be shot and he’d just have to let the Nowhere spit him out at will. He prayed the void would be kinder to him that the ghosts had been.
Just then, the little ghost flew back to him. It bumped gently against his chest, sending them tumbling through nothing. Kit wrapped his arms around it, still surprised by its solidity. Gotcha. Let’s go the fuck home.
He ended up lying on his back in a bed identical to all the others in Facility 17. Not Emil’s. Kit didn’t care.
There was a large orange cat writhing in his hands.
What? He let go and it sat on his sternum and purred. The poltergeist, the little ghost, the thing he’d been scared of was… a cat?
Kit thought back over all the signs. The scratching on doors. The objects knocked off tables. Goddammit.
“Yeah, you think you’re real funny,” Kit said, narrowing his eyes at the animal, which, in addition to purring, was now kneading its paws into him. He didn’t want to deal with this shit anymore. When he stretched his head back, there was a pillow beneath it, which felt like the best and most important thing in the world.
The stupid cat was still sitting, as heavily as it possibly could, right on his chest. Wanting to dislodge it, Kit rolled over onto his side. The cat, unfazed, curled up in the space between his bent knees and his chest.
12
Tough Crowd
Emil didn’t entertain any illusions of sleep, but he did go back to his room. Or he intended to, but he was sidetracked by the meowing coming from behind the locked door to Solomon Lange’s room. Hadn’t Niels Bohr disappeared into the breach in Lange’s lab? How could he be here?
He’d only been standing in front of the door for a moment before Jake came to his side. He didn’t look like he’d slept since they’d last seen each other.
“I don’t suppose you can unlock this one, too?” Emil asked, giving Jake a tired smile.
Jake recoiled. There was no other word for the way he backed away from Emil with his eyes wide. “Don’t get the wrong idea about us. We had a few conversations, that’s all.”
Those few conversations had been enough for reclusive, permanently sour, notoriously secretive Solomon Lange to grant Jake access to his lab—but Jake hadn’t known that until a few hours ago. What did Lange even think Jake would do in the lab? Jake wasn’t a physicist.
“I’m sorry,” Emil said. “That was inappropriate of me.”
When they’d first met years ago, Emil had been hesitant to come out to Jake. At first glance, he’d seemed exactly like the kind of macho straight guy who might be uncomfortable with queerness. He liked guns and engines and not talking about his feelings. Emil had misread him. Jake had never once been disrespectful or seemed ill at ease or hesitated to follow an order. And when Lucas had dumped Emil, Jake had been just as quick to offer a hug as anybody else.
No, Jake had never been uncomfortable with Emil. But the way he’d recoiled just now suggested he might be uncomfortable with himself.
On the other side of the door, the meowing continued. It was accompanied by occasional scratching.
“Heath and Winslow reprogrammed the lock anyway,” Jake said. His only acknowledgement of Emil’s apology was a single nod. “They had to get Niels Bohr out of Lange’s room after the accident.”
“So how did he get back in?”
“He didn’t. Niels Bohr disappeared this morning, remember?”
“So there’s another cat?” Emil said. Today was already weird, but that was a truly unexpected development. “Did Lange have a secret cat? Did someone else have a secret cat? Why have we never noticed?”
Jake shrugged. He tried the door. It didn’t work.
A moment passed, during which Emil contemplated two wildly improbable ways to get into the room. Breaking down the door—nearly impossible. Crawling through the vents—impossible for him, although maybe he could persuade Chávez to do it. She was the worst choice, temperament-wise, but she did have the narrowest frame.
The third way into the room was asking Heath or Winslow to unlock the door. It would be successful, but unpleasant.
“Maybe we should just ignore it for now and go back to bed,” Emil joked. It made him smile to remember Kit saying And why do I have to solve the problem? Maybe if I wait, it’ll go away. Or someone else will solve it for me.
Jake looked at Emil like he’d been replaced by an impostor. Fair enough. It wasn’t usually Emil’s nature to ignore a problem. Then Jake’s expression changed completely and he dropped to his knees and pressed his ear against the door. Emil knelt down with him and listened.
The scratching had stopped. The meowing hadn’t stopped, but it was only intermittent now. And in between the cat’s cries, there was a voice murmuring sweetly, “Shh, I know you’re hungry. The Nowhere makes me hungry, too. Shh, shh. There has to be food in here somewhere, and I’m gonna find it for you, because I need you to shut the fuck up so I can go back to sleep, okay?”
Kit. But what was he doing there? Where was the runner who’d been tasked with taking him away?
Emil could hear the click and rattle of desk and closet drawers being opened, and then the rustle and thud of a bag of cat food being set on the floor. “There we go,” Kit was saying. “That’s what you wanted. Now you’ll shut up like we talked about, right? You know us runners have to stick together. The rest of them don’t even think we’re human.” A pause. Emil heard only the crunch of the cat eating kibble. “That was a joke. Sort of. Shit, I saved you and I’m feeding you and you won’t even laugh at my jokes. Tough crowd.”
At some point, Emil had closed his eyes. He didn’t know when exactly, nor did he know when he’d started smiling like such a dope. But it was so sweet. And it was a rare, unguarded moment for Kit. With Emil, he was always offering with one hand and holding back with the other.
When he opened his eyes, Jake was staring at him incredulously. “Are you gonna knock, or…”
Oh, right. Emil knocked softly. “Kit. It’s me. And Jake.”
Enough time passed that Emil wondered if Kit had already fallen back asleep. He knocked again, and the door opened. For someone who’d demanded that Emil carry him to bed not forty-five minutes ago, Kit looked distinctly unhappy to see him. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest. Still, he stepped aside to let them in. Jake closed the door and all three of them stared at the orange cat happily eating from a mountain of food in its bowl.
“That,” Jake said, “is Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar.”
“What?” Kit said.
“A famous twentieth-century physicist,” Emil answered, “and, I’m guessing, one of Lange’s cats. But I’ve never seen this one before.”
He expected Kit to explain, but it was Jake who spoke.
“I know because he showed me pictures. Back on Earth, Lange had two cats. Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar and Lise Meitner. During a particular breakthrough, he found himself in the lab all the time, obsessively tweaking his experiment. Every time he had to go home to feed his cats, it was an interruption. And he missed them. So all three of them moved in. Then there was another accident—the way he described it, it sounded just like the one that happened here. Lange survived, but the cats disappeared. For a while, he thought they were dead—that he’d killed them—and he couldn’t go on with his work. Then things started moving around his apartment or his lab, getting knocked off tables, batted around. Sometimes he’d hear scratching. And he had the funny thought that maybe his cats weren’t dead after all. So he kept working. He adopted Niels Bohr. And when Quint Services called, he accepted their offer. And his cats—all three of them—came with him.”
“That’s why you’re not scared of the so-called poltergeist,” Emil said. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“None of you seemed that scared, either.” Jake shrugged. “I tried to tell you a couple of times. It just never worked out. The whole thing sounded like nonsense. Would you have believed me?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t even sure I believed it myself.”<
br />
“I found the cat in the Nowhere,” Kit said. While Emil had been listening to Jake, Kit had crawled into Lange’s bed and was now lying on his side. He was still dressed in Emil’s clothes and his hair was stiff with dried saltwater. It had been a hell of a night. “Or I guess he found me. I think he’s the one who’s been causing most of the trouble around here, but I guess maybe the other cat is still out there somewhere. I can look for her.” He yawned. “Some other time.”
“Our poltergeist has been a cat this whole time,” Emil said. “Or two cats. That raises the question of the other ghost.”
He didn’t state it as a question. He had a feeling they’d all come to the same conclusion. Lange’s cats had disappeared in a lab accident and been stuck in the Nowhere for months, manifesting only as bluish blurs of light. It didn’t take a physics genius to guess that the same fate had befallen Lange himself.
“But why would he be trying to kill you?” Emil asked Kit in the silence that followed.
Kit had his eyes closed, as if the question didn’t concern him at all. But he wasn’t asleep yet, because he answered, “You said he was an asshole, right? Maybe that’s been… amplified.”
Jake shook his head, and Emil was inclined to believe him.
“I don’t think he was that much of an asshole,” Emil said.
“When I saw him, he looked like he was in pain,” Kit said. “Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Maybe,” Jake said. “But he pushes you out, right? And the cats never did.”
“Yeah,” Kit said. He’d opened his eyes for this part, but he didn’t look or sound convinced.
“I don’t mean to be too negative here, but are we sure the ghost is still… Lange? Can he think in there? I can’t think in the Nowhere, and that’s without any kind of sudden trauma. It’s just being a normal person. Lange wasn’t a runner before the accident, and now he’s trapped in the Nowhere in some kind of in-between shape,” Emil said. “Kit rescued the cat, and it seems to be alive and more or less normal, although with cats it’s hard to tell. I’m not saying we shouldn’t try. I’m trying to think all the way through things.”
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