“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Dax said. “Lenny might only be a runner temporarily—it’s too soon to tell. But the dimensional prion isn’t folded like Reality B matter. It’s something slightly different—call it B1. It acts on Reality B matter, folding it into a different configuration. So Lenny has three foldings in him right now: A, B, and B1. Before the experiments, he was only, say, 12.5% Reality B matter—not enough to be a runner. But the more different foldings you have, the easier it is to access the Nowhere, or so Lange claims. So Lenny can be a runner with 87.5% Reality A matter as long as his remaining 12.5% is two different foldings.”
“But eventually the dimensional prions refold all that B matter into B1 matter, and he’ll be back to two foldings,” Emil said. “And we don’t know how long ‘eventually’ is.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lenny said. “Doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence. Guess I’d better stick to short runs.”
“So the experiments aren’t going to work on the rest of us?” Miriam asked.
“I don’t have access to Heath and Winslow’s notes, so I don’t know exactly what they’ve injected us with,” Dax said. “Going off Lange’s notes, I can imagine some experiments that might be successful, at least temporarily. I’ll have to think about it after we’ve solved our other problems.”
“Thank you, Dax,” Emil said. “I think we should go our separate ways for now. But stay in touch, and let’s all keep an eye out.”
Emil had probably been knocking softly at the door for a long time before Kit woke up. Kit lay in bed and let him knock a few more times. He wanted to go back to sleep and not deal with any of this.
But Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar meowed and pawed at the door, stretching his long orange self all the way up to the doorknob.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Kit told the cat as he got out of bed. “He’s not your person.”
His muscles complained as he walked the short distance to the door, his body aching in ways he didn’t know were possible. He rubbed his eyes and scrubbed a hand through his hair and it came away gritty with salt. What would he give for a shower? His own shower, not whatever high-tech nonsense was in this facility. The drains would probably be set up to harvest his DNA.
Kit opened the door. Emil looked wrecked, dark circles under his tired eyes, and Kit had been through worse, so he could only imagine what kind of sight he made. Starved and exhausted and dirty, swimming in Emil’s too-large t-shirt.
“Hey,” Emil said. He gave Kit a soft little smile.
God, he was pretty. Kit didn’t want to be mad at him.
“You feeling any better?”
“No,” Kit said. “But I’m alive.”
“Want some air?” Emil said. “Well, technically it’s the same recirculated air as we’re breathing now, but I was thinking I could show you my garden before… well, you know.”
Kit didn’t want to walk anywhere—his body nearly collapsed in protest at the thought—but for some reason, with his eyes still half-closed from sleep, he said, “Sure. Whatever.”
It was like giving a dying person their last request, he told himself. One last nice thing before the end. He padded out the door after Emil, who paused to wait for him in the hall. Kit must have looked pathetic. Emil put a hand on the small of his back and slowed down until they were keeping pace.
Kit didn’t care about plants, but he had to admit, the garden was impressive. It was far larger than he’d expected, a greenhouse with multiple rooms, each one full to bursting with green. The whole ceiling was glass, and beyond that, there were stars on stars on stars.
And Emil beamed at him, giving him the biggest, brightest, dorkiest smile.
“Yeah,” Kit said, dazzled. When Emil smiled at him, it made him stupid. He wanted to say wow and it’s beautiful and you really take care of all this? and also is there anything in here to eat? but then he remembered what Travis had told him, and he tamped all that bullshit down. “Good job or whatever. Is there a place to sit around here or should I fall on the floor?”
“Right, right, I’m so sorry,” Emil said, steering him toward a bench. It faced one of the windows. Kit slumped down into it, grateful not to have to stand any longer. “Are you sure you’ll be okay to do this?”
“No,” Kit said. “But I’ve already waited too long.”
Emil hovered over him for a moment, not sitting down. Then he walked away and reappeared with an apple in his hand. He gave it to Kit.
Goddammit. Stop being kind. Kit took the apple and bit into it without saying thank you. It was sweet, juicy, perfectly crisp. He wanted to close his eyes and draw out this moment, to think of nothing but the taste on his tongue, but Laila and Aidan were waiting.
As Kit was eating, Emil outlined the plan he’d told his team earlier.
“I’m bringing Caleb in,” Kit said when Emil was finished and he’d devoured the apple. “Laila and Aidan might need immediate medical attention. I don’t trust him myself, but he’s close to Aidan, so I think he’ll cooperate.”
“But that adds a trip on the way out,” Emil said. “You can’t take two people at the same time.”
“Caleb might be able to get them into shape to make a short run,” Kit said. “They didn’t go into that room of their own power, but if they can, I want them to get out on their own.”
“That’s… very thoughtful of you,” Emil said. “But we have to design this rescue to be effective above all else.”
“And that means bringing Caleb,” Kit said. “The more functional runners we have, the better off we’ll be. Who knows what’s going to happen in there?”
“Point taken,” Emil said.
“And I don’t need your approval. You’re not my fucking boss,” Kit said, seizing on his momentary irritation. He had to rip the bandage off. It was time to ask questions. “Did you know? About Laila and Aidan. About any of it.”
Emil had such serious, dark eyes. When he turned to Kit, he seemed to have understood already where this conversation was headed. The knowledge haunted his expression. “I didn’t know about Laila and Aidan.”
That answer was an obvious dodge. “And Oswin Lewis Quint’s view of runners as some kind of untrustworthy aliens? Did you know about that?”
Emil was silent. It was answer enough.
“Fuck you,” Kit said. It wasn’t the brilliant, cutting remark of his dreams, but it was how he felt. “How could you? And don’t tell me that you didn’t feel that way—not you personally, oh no, never that—just the massively influential billionaire you work for. So different. Completely forgivable. I should let it go that you knowingly signed up to work for some ultra-powerful asshole with a shiny smile who thinks I’m not human. No big deal.”
“Kit—”
Kit forced himself to stand. Emil was still sitting, so for an instant, he could loom over him. “Don’t. When this is over, we’re done. Don’t look for me.”
Emil raised his hands, palms up, a gesture of surrender. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“I just fucking said it’s what I want,” Kit said, and if he sounded even angrier, it was because his eyes were burning. Tiredness, he told himself. That’s all it was.
“Can I ask you for one thing?” Emil said. “It’s small, I promise.”
Kit said nothing. He couldn’t afford to give anything away. This would all be so much simpler if he were just angry with Emil, instead of… whatever it was he felt. He was angry. So why was it so hard to do this? Travis had pissed him off and he hadn’t needed a whole goddamn whirlwind of feelings to deal with it. It had been sharp, clean anger—solidified by the knowledge that he and Travis were done forever.
This was different, and Kit didn’t want it to be different. Emil was just like Travis—a hot guy he’d had sex with. A hot guy who meant nothing to him. Nothing ever lasted and Kit knew that. He’d always known that. He should have been prepared for this moment. He shouldn’t have let Emil bring him to this fucking greenhouse, the one beautiful co
rner of this otherwise soulless prison carved into a space rock, and he shouldn’t have let Emil touch him with what felt like concern and affection, and he shouldn’t have let Emil give him an apple.
He shouldn’t have let Emil kiss him.
All of that had confused the only issue that mattered, which was that Emil worked for a piece of shit bigot who thought Kit and everyone like him were untrustworthy and uncontrollable. Born con artists and criminals. Traitors in waiting. Emil had signed up for that.
Kit had been silent for a long time, so Emil spoke again, “All I want is for you to check in after the rescue. One message. You don’t even have to message me. Just somebody up here. Let us know you made it out.”
That wasn’t so much. And yet it was. Emil wanted to know he was alive. Emil would be… what? Reassured? Comforted? Emil’s request dug into Kit’s insides like a fish hook, the barbed end of some line connecting them. It hurt, and Kit wanted to sever that line. But he knew better. Line or no line, that hook would still be buried in him. “Fine,” he said. “But that’s it. Now I’m going to find Lenny and Caleb so I can get this over with.”
14
Adrenaline
Kit could see the hunch in Emil’s shoulders as he left the greenhouse, but he ignored it. It wasn’t his fault. Emil was the one who’d done something wrong. He deserved whatever he was feeling. And there were more important things to focus on.
Lenny and Caleb found him not long after that, both somber. What had Emil told them? Kit’s pissed off—don’t make it worse. No, even in his most spiteful imaginings, Kit couldn’t picture Emil revealing any of their earlier conversation. Probably Lenny and Caleb had just seen his tragic, hangdog expression and picked up on it.
Caleb was wearing a black backpack loaded down with something. When he saw Kit’s glance, he explained, “I thought I’d bring a few medical supplies, and Lenny suggested we pack some food, and uh…”
“Miriam and Dax prepared explosive charges,” Lenny said. “That’s the heaviest part.”
“Good,” Kit said. He grabbed Caleb around the waist with no preamble, making him blink and draw back in surprise. Caleb was bigger than him, and fit, but he didn’t feel anything like Emil—and Kit didn’t want to think about that. This was all business. You wanted to take someone through the Nowhere, you had to hold onto them. It didn’t mean anything. Kit looked at Lenny. “You know how to follow me through?”
Lenny nodded.
Kit jumped. The Nowhere made him twitchy now since he’d been knocked around so much, but this was a short enough run that by the time he caught a hint of blue light in his peripheral vision, they were done. They stepped into the walled-off room where Aidan and Laila were still lying in their beds, worn down, angry, and cuffed.
Unlike last time, Laila was awake. It was a relief to see her face, those wide-set brown eyes and that big smile. “Kit!”
She had the sweetest, lightest voice—and she knew it and used it to great effect when she swore. “Laila,” he said, smiling. Laila was on the very short list of people who hadn’t let him down, right after Zin and Louann. He’d thought he might have to cross her name off that list, but he’d been wrong. It felt good to see her, and despite his fatigue, he’d crossed the room to touch her hand before he even knew it. She squeezed his hand. “We’re gonna get you out.”
“So Aidan’s been telling me,” she said, the sweetness in her voice turning sharp. “I wasn’t sure I believed him. He said you came here by accident. That you didn’t even know I was in here. That you weren’t looking for me.”
Kit tilted his head and let his mouth draw to the side. He’d messaged her a few times and gone to her apartment, but he couldn’t fault her assessment. He should have realized something was wrong. But still. “Well, if I’d known you were kidnapped—” he started.
“Oh, right. Next time I’ll leave a note that says ‘Dear Kit, I’ve been kidnapped. Love, Laila.’ I was missing for days! We were supposed to work together and I missed it. You must have looked for me at least a little, right?”
Caleb handed Kit a pick for Laila’s handcuffs just in time. He fiddled with the lock until he got them to pop open. “I just thought you’d left,” he said, freeing her hands. “People do that.”
“Not me,” she said. Caleb had examined the intravenous lines and removed them, studiously ignoring this conversation. Laila rubbed her uncuffed wrist, then held her hand out so that Kit could help her sit up straight. “You could have at least dropped by Detroit and asked my roommates, Kit, come on.”
“I did! They told me you’d gone out. I thought they meant to the grocery or something. They didn’t seem freaked out. I thought they were trying to get me to leave. And I’m rescuing you,” he protested. “Is now really the time for a lecture?”
Caleb had moved on to helping Aidan out of bed. Lenny was setting charges around the perimeter of the room. Laila was leaning on Kit and she felt far too light. He reached into the backpack they’d set on the floor and offered her a pouch of some kind of pureed fruit. Kit was dimly aware that Aidan and Caleb were talking, and their conversation must be less awkward, because Lenny had opted to talk to them.
“Don’t placate me with food,” she said, opening it and sucking half of it down as fast as she could. Caleb had said something about how it might be easier for them to digest. She continued, “You really thought I’d stand you up. We’ve worked together for years, you’re my best friend, practically my brother, and that whole time, you thought I was just waiting for the right moment to abandon you.”
“I—” Laila thought they were best friends? Kit had never thought of it that way. Maybe he’d never let himself.
“Kit,” she said and held up a finger as she swallowed the remainder of what she was eating. “I feel like someone ran me over, I love you and I’ve never been happier to see you in my life, and I’m so fucking mad at you I could scream. And how is that I was abducted and imprisoned for days and somehow I feel the need to hug you?” And then she was clinging to him, still soft but with sharper edges than before, and that made his throat close up with guilt. Then Laila was crying, her face pressed into his shoulder, and suddenly he was crying, too. “I was so scared,” she whispered.
“Me too,” Kit said. He sniffled. He didn’t want to be crying, but if Laila was going to hug him and cry, what could he do? In a way, it was a relief to let something out. It had been a tough few days, and it wasn’t over. “Still am, actually.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Caleb said. “But we should go. I just gave Aidan a shot of adrenaline and he’s going to try to get me out of here. Laila, I’d like to give you one, too.”
“Kit can take me,” she said. She’d angled herself to face Caleb but her arms were still firmly around Kit. “I’m not done scolding him.”
“I will,” Kit promised. “But take the shot anyway. The Nowhere’s all fucked up here and I keep getting attacked by this thing. Trust me, you want to be able to run.”
“Alright,” she said. “I can barely feel it anymore. Who knows what they’ve been doing to me.” She stepped away from Kit and let Caleb give her the injection.
“How much time do we have with the charges, Lenny?” Kit asked.
“I figure I’ll detonate them right as we jump,” Lenny said.
“Okay,” Kit said, unsure why he’d bothered to ask. Lenny seemed to know what he was doing, and it wasn’t like Kit had the authority to instruct him otherwise. But he didn’t know what else to do with himself, standing there waiting for the moment they could leave this awful room behind forever. He watched Laila take a deep breath and close her eyes, testing to see if she had the energy to make a run. Aidan was tapping his fingers against his thighs as he stood watching Caleb pack up his syringe.
“Well.”
Kit jerked his head up. Travis had materialized behind the partition screen. Kit hadn’t heard a thing until he’d spoken. He’d stepped smoothly into view, hands behind his back, and was making eye contact with Kit. �
��For the record, I didn’t want to do this,” he said.
The sight of Travis made white-hot rage streak through Kit, burning away his fatigue. “The record doesn’t give a shit.”
“I’m here to offer you a deal,” Travis said. “You stay, Laila and Aidan go free.”
Kit laughed. “What puts you in a position to make offers? We’re on our way out.”
“I thought you might say that.” Travis unclasped his hands and brought them forward. He was holding a gun. No, not holding—aiming. At Kit. “This is the other side of the offer. You and everyone else in this room die.”
Kit risked a glance at his companions and took stock of their expressions. Aidan and Laila: defiant. Caleb: scared. Lenny: unimpressed. Among the four of them, they had three quasi-functional runners, one of whom was a veteran who happened to be holding a detonator for a bunch of charges placed all around the room. Kit was standing directly across from Travis and the gun was aimed at him. Caleb was within Aidan’s reach. He trusted that Laila could get herself out. They had no reason to bow to Travis or Quint Services or anyone.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Travis said. “You’re thinking you could jump before I shot you. And maybe you could. But I know you’ve had a bad few days, and we both know the Nowhere isn’t what it used to be, especially for you. And you know I can follow you and bring you back here.”
Kit said nothing.
“None of the rest of them matter,” Travis said, casually swinging his gun to point at Caleb’s head. “Stay or go, live or die, it’s all the same to me. You’re the one I need.”
Kit didn’t even have to tell Aidan to go. He already had his hands on Caleb. One second they were in the room, the next they weren’t. Travis swiveled in Kit’s direction, aiming the gun at his head. “Come on, Kit. It’s not that bad. A few samples, some tests. If you’re cooperative, they’ll treat you fine. They’ll even let you see the big handsome one you like so much.”
Edge of Nowhere Page 17