“Five,” Devin says.
Panic spikes through my blood. What do I do?
“Four.”
Peter gets to his feet and we share a look.
“Three.”
I open my mouth—to agree, to lie, to do literally anything—but Paul catches my eye. He shakes his head.
“Two.”
“Wait, please!” Peter begs.
“One. Time’s up.” Devin thrusts his dagger into Paul’s back.
Paul screams and Peter and I run toward them, weapons drawn, but Devin stabs Paul again before ripping his dagger free of him to face us.
There’s a wild light in his eyes. “I gave you a chance, you know.”
I thrust my spear toward him with more anger than I’ve ever felt, but he sidesteps with a laugh. “Peter, get Paul,” I say. “We’re going.”
He hardly needed an order from me to go to his brother. He kneels by Paul’s side, half crying as he whispers, “No, no, no, it’s going to be okay, Paul, we’re going to make it out of here just fine.”
I barely hear Paul’s soft, strained confirmation.
I twist my spear around to try to land a hit from the side, but Devin deflects it easily. I keep attacking, pushing him farther away from Paul and Peter.
He slips under one of my swings and is suddenly right in front of me, dagger raised. His eyes shine with glee as he raises his arm to attack. Then his eyes flick to the side and he ducks out of the way as a halberd swings through the space he’d just been standing in.
Al stands there, new cuts covering her arms and sides, her breaths coming hard.
I fight the urge to yell at her. Instead I say, “We’re going. And you better fucking follow this time.”
She doesn’t reply as I race back to where Peter has finished applying the fastest bandaging job possible to Paul to slow the bleeding. But seeing all the blood on the ground, and all the blood dripping from his back as Peter gently lifts him up, my stomach wrenches. There’s no way. He’s not going to make it.
We no longer have any kind of path ahead of us. A wall of rebels stands in our way, and Devin laughs at us from behind. “And just where do you think you’re going? Your little fire trick won’t work a second time.”
Between having already used what little strengths we had earlier and my distracting anxiety over Paul, I’m coming up with a blank. How can we escape? How can we get Paul out of here?
Gabriel’s power crystal burns against my skin.
Power crystals. Of course. I pull my necklace with its three crystals out from underneath my shirt and hold Syon’s far overhead. As soon as Peter sees it, he braces himself and closes his eyes. Energy crackles through the air as blinding light fills the area. The rebels flinch back, and Al, but I grab her by the wrist and we all run for it.
I don’t have a free hand to attack anyone we pass by, but Al does. She swings at anybody in our way, and anyone within her reach, and their cries of pain and confusion ring out around us.
The uneven road makes running hard. Holes and roots keep catching my feet, making me stumble, but we keep going without pause. Even after it seems like we’ve somehow managed to lose the rebels, none of us slow down.
As we run past sorry excuses for buildings, through the remnants of the glass dome that once shielded the sector, across the dry, empty plain to the relative safety of the forest, all I can think about is that moment Devin’s dagger came down on Paul.
* * *
We stop soon after entering the forest. It isn’t safe by any means, but we need to break for Paul. The unavoidable truth that he’s not going to make it until we get back to Sector Eight pulses like a poison through my heart. A truth Peter has yet to accept.
He sets his brother on the ground, so, so gently, and starts to undo the hastily wrapped bandage from earlier. It’s soaked with blood. “It’ll be all right, Paul, I’m just going to clean your wounds and get you bandaged right back up,” Peter says. His words spill from his mouth like a protective charm. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
But Paul reaches up to grab Peter’s hand before he can do any of the things he said. His fingers are trembling. Already, his skin is incredibly pale, every one of his freckles standing out. He smiles at Peter, and I think that’s what breaks him.
“You shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way of that attack,” Peter says. Tears are already streaming down his face. “That should’ve been me, not you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Paul murmurs. “I wasn’t going to let you get hurt.”
“You can’t go,” Peter whispers. His broken words fall like shattered glass into my lungs as he wraps both his hands over Paul’s. “We made a promise, remember? Together forever.”
“Sorry, Peter.” Paul smiles again, weaker this time. Peter’s entire expression collapses in on itself. He presses his forehead to Paul’s.
Without me having realized it, tears are streaming down my cheeks. I kneel beside Peter and take Paul’s other hand. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I never should’ve gotten either of you dragged into this.”
“Don’t,” Paul says quietly. “It was our choice. Don’t blame yourself.”
But how can I not? I had the chance to save them. I never should’ve even let them come to begin with.
Paul’s hand tightens infinitesimally around mine. “Don’t be like that. It’ll be okay.”
“You’re not supposed to be the one comforting me,” I say around a choked sob. My chest tightens as I watch the focus in Paul’s eyes dimming. Fading.
But he smiles again, one last time, before he says to Peter, “Take care of yourself, brother. I love you.” And then he says no more. His hand is still warm in mine. His blood is still wet on my fingers. But he’s gone.
30
JAY
MENDEL AND I are the last to rejoin everyone. Our bycs were destroyed on our flight out of the city, so we had to go on foot. I could sense everyone’s overwhelming grief a mile away. Along with one less presence than there should’ve been.
As I expected, when we enter the small space the others are gathered in, it’s to find Lai, Peter Wood, Seung, and Syon huddled around Paul Wood. His presence doesn’t appear on my grid, but the others’ do, white-hot and burning in their deep, navy-black pain.
Johann stands some way back, appearing to keep watch over everyone. For some reason, his presence swirls with an uneasy, violent mix of sadness, guilt, anger, and disappointment. He lifts a hand in greeting but says nothing.
I don’t think Lai even sees us. Though she’s not crying now, it’s clear from her red eyes that she was earlier. Her head is bowed. And beneath the river of her grief is an undercurrent of guilt that makes me worried. However, I leave her with her friends from the Order—her friends who actually knew Paul Wood—so that they might ease one another’s pain.
“What happened?” I ask Johann quietly.
He shakes his head. “Later.”
“Is there a reason not to talk about it now?” Mendel asks with a single raised eyebrow.
Johann shoots him a murderous look, and betrayal shoots through his presence. “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me about your missing memories? Because no one else seemed surprised about that.”
“That wasn’t—”
“Let’s not have this discussion right now,” I say. I can’t hold the exhaustion back from my voice. “We have enough going on as it is without starting an argument as soon as we’re all together again.”
They both fall quiet and look away from each other.
“Did you both hit your red alerts?” I glance at my own MMA even as I ask, but the red light in the corner of the screen is still blinking. Johann and Mendel both nod. And yet there’s been no word from the military. No help sent, despite everything.
It shouldn’t be taking this long. What’s going on?
I refuse to acknowledge the possibility that the military isn’t coming for us. That they would just abandon soldiers that they themselves forced into a trap. W
e’ve all served the sector faithfully. Even Mendel refused to join the rebels, despite his newfound knowledge that he was once a part of them. The military will help us. They have to.
However, as we eventually pick up and begin the long journey back to Sector Eight on foot, and as the days pass with no word from or sign of the military, I’m forced to accept the fact that we’ve been discarded.
* * *
It takes four days of traveling at a quickened pace to reach Sector Eight. Of all the bycs, only Seung and Syon’s survived, and everyone was in agreement that Peter Wood should take it and get back to the sector with his brother. I wonder how he’ll manage to get past the Gatesmen carrying a dead body and on a military-issue byc, but Lai doesn’t seem unduly concerned over it. She’s been silent the whole trip.
The military never came for us. I’d wanted to believe it was just taking time, that they had to prepare. However, by the second day, there was no point in continuing that belief.
It was just like Ellis said. They used us while they could, and then they threw us away. Why didn’t I see it? No, why didn’t I do anything about it? I always had the suspicion that the military tolerated us merely because we were useful. I just never stopped to consider the possibility that they would betray us so ultimately.
Why have I been blindly, faithfully following them all this time? Because I saw some good in them along with all the other terrible things they do? Did I learn nothing from my father?
Betrayal courses under my skin, but stronger than that is my anger. How could they? How dare they?
Lai stops walking. The sector is finally within sight, but she’s looking at it strangely. Searching.
The rest of us stop as well. “What’s wrong, Lai?” I ask.
“Something’s off.”
Unease ripples through everyone. If Lai says something isn’t right, especially when it’s the first thing she’s chosen to say in the last four days, then something is very, very wrong.
“What is it?” Mendel asks.
However, Lai slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She looks to Seung and Syon. “You guys should hang back before you go through the other Gate.” Then she faces our team. “If anyone asks, it was just the four of us who went to meet the rebels. All four bycs were destroyed in the fight.”
No one questions her.
She goes to hug Seung and Syon, and I worry she won’t be able to bring herself to separate from them. However, she pulls back and we continue on our way. Just the four of us. I’d become so used to the others being present that now our numbers feel too small.
We all pause when we finally reach the towering starlight Gate. Despite the fact we’ve pushed ourselves hard the last four days to get here, now we all hesitate. Lai was right. Something feels off. The fact that I don’t know what it is makes me deeply uneasy.
Johann is the one who finally steps up to the Gate and knocks. The sound reverberates through the dead air. “Team One reporting back from our mission. Permission to reenter Sector Eight.”
For some reason, it feels as though both a miracle and a disaster is occurring when the starlight Gate slowly opens just wide enough to admit us. We pass through, but there are no Gatesmen on the other side. We all freeze. No part of the Gate is ever left unmanned.
“What’s going on?” Mendel asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I think we’re about to find out.”
We proceed to the other half of the Gate, and this time when Johann knocks, it slides open before he even has the chance to say anything. We all trade a look. And then we go in.
At first I think the area is deserted. Then, as the Gate closes with a ring of finality behind us, I realize how very wrong I was.
Guards surround us. Their weapons are all drawn and pointed at us. “Hands in the air!” one of them yells.
I slowly raise my hands. I have no idea what’s happening, but there’s no point inviting any unnecessary conflict. Lai and Mendel mimic me, and after a lot of hesitation and with anger coursing through his presence, Johann eventually does the same.
“We’re from the military, just returned from a mission given to us by the High Council. Why are you treating us like this?” I ask.
“Because,” the woman who spoke before says, “the High Council has ordered your arrests.”
31
LAI
AUSTIN IS THE one who finally comes to meet us. My team stands in a completely empty cell made of starlight metal. After we were arrested, they brought us to the nearest prison that had an anti-Nyte cell and shoved us all inside without saying anything more. But I had already gotten what I needed from them.
I run my thumb over the edge of the card in my jacket pocket as a door in the hallway opens. A few seconds later, the general stands before the bars of our cell.
Erik immediately shoots up from where he was sitting on the ground, and Al finally stops her senseless pacing. But Jay stays seated in his corner of the cell. Only his eyes rise to meet the general. The betrayal and fury in his thoughts—at the military and at himself—have been too strong for me to try talking to him.
“What the hell is this, Austin?” Al demands. “Why are we in this cell?”
Austin gives each of us a look-over before he sighs. “I’m glad you’re all safe.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“There was an attack by the rebels,” Austin says. “Around the same time you were meeting with Ellis, a group of rebels infiltrated the sector and struck some of the factories in the west. We still haven’t ascertained their goal in the attack. But the Council feared it meant you had gone over to them.”
“Why would we have come back here if we’d joined the rebels?” Erik asks.
“As spies. Double agents.”
“This is bullshit!” Al explodes. “It took us days to get back here on foot from a trap we were forced into, we’re all injured, and the first thing the Council does is throw us in jail?”
“I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do. You will all have a fair trial in a matter of days.”
“Fair trial?” Jay asks. I’ve never heard him be scathing before. It hurts. “We’re Nytes. No one’s going to believe us. Everyone’s going to treat us as guilty until proven innocent, and we have no evidence of our innocence. What’s even the point?”
Silence greets his words.
Austin looks at his feet, then at me. I can tell from his expression that he’s struggling. “I’ll do everything in my power to prove your innocence. Your records of loyalty, the red alerts you sent—even the injuries you’ve sustained. It’s all evidence. Just wait for me.”
“Not like we’ve got anything else to do,” I say flatly.
Austin flinches—something I’ve never seen before—and I know I should feel bad. It’s not his fault we’re in this mess. He’s trying to help. But I don’t have it in me to hold back right now. Paul’s death still scrapes against the backs of my eyelids, still gnaws at my chest. Why are we the ones suffering over and over again because of the Council’s whims and designs? I’m through with it. I’m through with them, and anything to do with them. Including the military.
“I’ll come again,” Austin says. “I wanted to inform you of the situation as soon as I could. Just know that I’m working on your defense.”
If he’s expecting thanks, he’s going to be waiting for an eternity. We all know how any trial with a Nyte will go. Especially a trial involving potential rebel spies.
When no one says anything, he reluctantly takes his leave.
At least his visit confirmed what I heard from the earlier guards’ thoughts. Those factories the rebels attacked. They were the same ones the Order was going to investigate. The ones we suspect the Council is doing their experiments in.
From the sounds of it, the rebels destroyed most of the factories, but the guards earlier thought something had been stolen, too. That that was why the Council was panicking and why they went so far as to have us arrested.
&n
bsp; My fist tightens until my fingernails dig into my palms. I can’t believe I didn’t see that Ellis’s meeting was not only a trap but a diversion as well. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she’d have another trick up her sleeve. That’s how she is.
The real question now is what she stole. Was it the experiment for somehow controlling Nytes? That would be sure to make the Councilors desperate. And put the rest of us in danger. If Ellis has a weapon like that and decides to use it against all the gifted still in the military and the sector in general …
“Well, since we’ve all finally got some personal time together,” Al says, “do you all want to tell me why I was the only one who didn’t know about Mendel and his apparent memory loss?” With nothing to do with her anger at the Council, it’s now giving way to her anger at us. And beneath it all, the years-old anger at her brother, who in great part brought us to this point.
“It wasn’t any of your business,” Erik says flatly. He’s already sat back down on the floor.
“But it was Lai’s and Kitahara’s?”
“They found out. It just happened.”
“Right,” Al says, her sarcasm fuming. “Of course they did. And I guess the fact that you were a rebel wasn’t anyone’s business?”
“Like I knew!” Erik says. He jabs a finger at Al. “And even if I had, what would you have wanted me to say? ‘Hey, so I don’t remember my past at all, but I’m pretty sure I was a rebel. Oh, but don’t worry, I’m not anymore, so we’re all good!’”
“A little warning would have been nice, instead of finding out from the enemy in the middle of an ambush!”
This feels like the point Jay would normally step in. But he remains silent in his corner, too tired, too done with everything to try to play neutralizer for the millionth time since this dysfunctional team was formed.
A Soldier and a Liar Page 28