He looked down at his mom. “You guys earned it, Mom. Stop being so hard on him.”
“He’ll be back tomorrow. We weren’t sure when you’d be getting here.” She paused and looked between the two of us as we stood next to each other on the porch. Justin held my duffel bag, swung over his shoulder.
Her face fell with concern. “You both look awfully tired. Did you two sleep at all these past few days?”
Justin turned his mom’s shoulders and steered her through the front door before she caught my blush. His eyes found mine for a split second and he grinned. It was a little awkward walking behind his mom when, about eight hours ago, I had been rolling around on the floor with her son with my shirt pulled halfway up my back.
We entered a small foyer and I wiped my shoes off on a sandy rug. A small table against the wall was piled with books and boxes. A row of hooks along the wall was heaped with jackets and hats, and random pairs of shoes were piled by the door. I already loved the cluttered look of the place. Her house, unlike mine, looked lived in.
“I apologize for the mess,” she said, and giggled to herself. “But who has time to clean these days? There are far better things to be doing with your life.”
“My mom has a saying,” Justin began, and waited for her to finish.
She blinked back at him. “I do?” Justin rolled his eyes. “Oh,” she said. “Justin, I don’t want Madeline to think I’m too critical.”
“But you are,” he said. I watched her with my eyebrows raised and waited. She glanced over at me and threw her hands up.
“Oh, I just think a neat house is the sign of an extremely boring person, that’s all. And I don’t really like to associate with boring people if I can help it.”
“I can live with that,” I said.
She looked over at me. “People come and go so often here, Madeline, it’s hard to keep anything neat. It’s one big free-for-all. But,” she added, “I have rooms upstairs ready for you both.” She slapped a hand over her mouth suddenly. “Oh, you two must be starving. It’s a good thing Erica brought over some leftovers.”
Justin leaned in to whisper to me. “She doesn’t really cook either. That’s my dad’s job,” he told me.
“I heard that!” she yelled over her shoulder.
We walked through the foyer and down the hall. The house smelled like wood and coffee. Our house didn’t have any smells. I also wasn’t used to this much color in a house. The foyer walls were a bright citrus yellow and the walls in the hallway were a bright ocean blue, almost turquoise, but weathered looking and cracked in places. I studied the color as I passed. In our house, fireproof beige carpeting or laminate floors covered every square inch of it, and most of the walls were stark white.
I wasn’t very hungry, more tired than anything, but Elaine poured me a bowl of soup and set a plate in front of me stacked with biscuits. The warm chicken broth was salty and thick and I sat at the table and drank it down. It started to fill me up, which just made me more tired.
“Justin, this poor girl’s exhausted. What have you done to her?”
I tried not to blush again and Justin looked indifferent as he rummaged through the pantry shelves.
“Haven’t you been feeding her? She’s so thin,” she scolded him.
“I haven’t been able to sleep much,” I said, which was partly true. I just didn’t go into why, exactly, I hadn’t slept last night.
“Well, you can relax here. Maybe you should turn in early tonight, both of you, and get a good night’s sleep.” After another helping of soup, Justin walked me back toward the foyer. I said good night to Elaine and thanked her for dinner. She gave me another tight hug before I followed Justin up the stairs and down the hallway. He led me to a room in the corner of the house. I walked inside and it was small, with a slanting ceiling and a large window that looked out at the ocean. He threw my bag down on the bed.
“If you need anything, let me know,” he said. I nodded and walked over to the window and peered out. The night was calm and clear and a cool breeze swept in that smelled like the ocean. I stared at him and he stared back at me and it felt like we were both fighting something. He hesitated, like he was going to take a step forward but he backed up instead. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, making it wild.
“Good night, Maddie,” he said, and turned away without another word. I stared at the empty space across my room. He hardly touched me today. He kept a polite, friendly distance. And I was worried. I wanted to crawl inside his mind and open up all the doors and windows that I was afraid he was trying to close again.
I rolled over in bed and gazed out at the moon, visible through the thin white curtains that were stirring from the breeze. My mind was exhausted, but my body wasn’t and there was one person to blame. Just as I was about to throw my sheets off and find him, I heard my door tap open. I could feel his energy pass through the room before I could make out his tall presence in the darkness and I propped my head up on my elbow, glaring at him. He leaned against the door until it clicked closed. He moved closer and I could smell his soapy skin and hair. I pulled the sheets back.
“Is this all right?” he asked as he crawled into bed with me. Our eyes met in the shadowy darkness and his hand found my face and his lips found my mouth.
“What took you so long?” I whined when he started to kiss me.
“I had to wait for my mom to fall asleep,” he complained, sounding as annoyed as I had felt.
“You didn’t even kiss me good night,” I mumbled, our lips still attached. He lifted his head back and stared into my eyes.
“You think I could have stopped with one kiss?” he asked like I was insane. He touched my lips with one finger and shook his head. He leaned back into me.
I didn’t want to think. I could barely breathe. All I could do was feel. I traced my hand over his arm and up to his face because I couldn’t get enough of that feeling, of the warmth that came off of his skin, and we just hid inside the darkness. The more I kissed him the more I needed to kiss him, like his lips were a drug. I tasted his mouth with my tongue. He grabbed one of my legs and pulled me on top of him.
It was safe, with all the lights off and no one around to point and stare. In the night it’s easy to indulge. It was just the two of us—we didn’t have to think about who we were or what this meant or where it was going. It was like an escape. It’s easy to forget at this moment billions of people exist and far-off galaxies are being born and stars collide. Kissing is its own kind of collision, it produces its own planetarium of lights inside your head. For me, it was like seeing colors for the first time after living in a black-and-white world. A single person can be just as wide and vast and spellbinding as any sky full of stars. They can make you think the world stops and night can last forever. I laced my fingers around his and squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine back and it made something ache in my chest.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I walked downstairs the next morning to find a party in the living room. I stared with shock at about twenty people, milling around, drinking coffee, the front screen door slamming open and closed. There were kids running around and dogs loose and I almost tripped over a soccer ball that suddenly rolled past my feet. A young boy ran up to me, grinned shyly, and kicked it away, disappearing down the hall, and another boy sprinted around the corner and yelled after him. I walked into the kitchen and Elaine was in there with about six other women and there were heaps of food spread out on the kitchen table. I felt a pang of guilt seeing this, because it reminded me of my mom and how much she would love all this noise and commotion. Elaine was talking and gesturing wildly and the other women were talking and I just watched with fascination. When Elaine saw me, she smiled and quickly came over to plant a huge, motherly kiss on my forehead. I blushed in return.
“This gorgeous young woman is our guest of honor,” she announced to her friends and quickly introduced me, rattling off so many names I couldn’t keep up, so I just smiled and n
odded at all the friendly faces. Someone handed me a cup of coffee and before I could respond Elaine handed me a plate piled with muffins.
“Madeline, can you take these out back? Thomas is on the deck with Justin. You need to go introduce yourself, he can’t wait to meet you,” she encouraged me. The next thing I knew I was being ushered toward the back door.
I walked outside to find Justin sitting on a wide deck that overlooked the ocean. The waves crashed in the distance, just past a sandy hill scattered with some brush and stalks of weeds. Justin turned to me and so did the man sitting next to him, a man who had Justin’s build. He smiled and stood up. He had the same intense eyes as Justin, the same confident stance. I squinted up at him in the bright daylight.
“I see Elaine’s already put you to work,” he said, and grabbed the plate from me just as I was starting to tip it over. He shook my hand and studied me. He smiled broadly, like I was a close family friend, which made me uncomfortable since I was more like a family enemy.
“Madeline,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
I stared back at him and creased my eyebrows. He was talking like he’d already met me.
“We’ve been looking for you a long time, is what I mean,” he told me, and I nodded. “Have you been given the full tour?” he asked. Justin and I both shook our heads and I watched the two of them, equal build, equal height, walk in front of me toward the house. Thomas gave his son a surprised glance. “You haven’t shown her the computer room?”
“I wanted to give you the honor,” Justin said. He looked at me over his shoulder. “It’s one of his toy rooms,” he said.
I looked back and forth between them and waited for the punch line. “You have computers here?” I asked with surprise.
“Madeline,” Thomas told me, “we may be backward in our ways but we like to know what we’re up against.”
I followed them down the hallway and he opened a door that led into a giant storage closet and food pantry. When I assumed the back wall was a dead end, Thomas pressed a code into a panel on the wall. One of the shelved walls swung open and a metal door appeared behind it, like the opening to a bomb shelter.
I stared at Thomas. Something told me this old Victorian house didn’t come built with a disguised, security-encoded entryway. He scanned his fingerprint and the door buzzed open. A narrow stairway illuminated as soon as Thomas walked through. I followed behind him and when we met the foot of the stairs I looked around at a room the size of a conference center. Screens filled every inch of wall space. Dozens of computers sat on white tabletops sprawled throughout the room. I walked past the screens and marveled at them, as if being reintroduced to a drug addiction. In the center of the room was a large circular table with four monitors spread out.
I ran my fingers along one of the keyboards and smiled to myself. It was like greeting an old friend that you’ve grown apart from. I wasn’t sure if our relationship could ever be the same again. My fingers and eyes had seen and touched so much in the past few weeks; it was strange to think this keypad and all these buttons had been my world practically my entire life.
I walked past the monitors and did a double take when I noticed a Cerberix on the table, plugged into one of the computer outlets. I studied it closer with disbelief. A Cerberix is decoding software, designed to infiltrate any website. It can tap into anything from someone’s personal bank account to a corporation’s most secured data files. The software could override any password or security code and find information whether it was in use, saved, or being transferred. I knew there were only a handful of people in the country that had access to one. I knew that because my father was one of them and a few years ago, I taught myself how to use it. When kids my age were chatting and flirting and going to digital concerts I was hacking into confidential government sites and downloading information.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, pointing at the c-shaped computer drive.
Thomas looked back at me. “I have ways of acquiring things.”
I was shocked at his easygoing reaction, as if we were talking about a new television model, not a stolen piece of highly specialized government equipment. I put my hands on my hips.
“Do you know what would happen if you were caught with this?” I asked.
“Certain and immediate execution, I suppose,” he said lightly, and I cringed since he was already “executed” once before. I stared skeptically between him and Justin. Did this whole family think they were immortal?
“I’m not too worried, Madeline,” he said. “I designed them, you see, so no one’s going to find out that I have a few extras lying around.”
“You designed Cerberix software?” I asked with shock.
“He invented it,” Justin said.
Thomas nodded. “Biggest mistake of my life,” he said with a sigh. He pulled a chair back and we all sat around the computer table. I stared at Thomas like he was part hero, part villain to invent something so controversial, something that allowed the government to spy on anyone they wanted.
“I was working at a computer engineering firm in Phoenix when I was Justin’s age. It was a company specializing in warfare communication. When I designed the software, I was told the program would be used by the military as a means of protection. We’d use it to hack into enemy sites and freeze their communication or try to intercept attack plans. This is when the U.S. was being threatened with nuclear attacks from China, before the Big Freeze in 2040.”
I knew about the treaty signed in 2040. Every country in the world with nuclear warheads came together and agreed to dispose of their weapons. It was the most peaceful day recorded in history. The treaty, still called the Big Freeze, has been signed every subsequent ten years and is in effect today.
“I was willing to do anything to stop the threat of a nuclear world war,” he continued. “That’s why I agreed to design it. But it turned out the software had nothing to do with safety. The government turned my invention into a giant spy system. They used it to monitor everything we’re doing. They know what we watch, what we eat, who we talk to. They can read every single chat message we write. There’s no privacy left. That’s the kind of power I gave the government.”
“But if you invented it, can’t you figure out a way to shut it down?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“By the time I realized what they were planning to use it for, it was too late. They owned every file I ever created. And I was so young back then, so trusting, I didn’t think of creating a loophole. It’s easy to put too much faith in technology and think discovery and innovation are always going to be a step forward. When you get too excited about the possibilities, you don’t stop to consider the consequences. Just when you get too cocky, life has a way of putting you in your place.”
“So, now you’re trying to make up for what you did?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “I’ve found a way to use it for a better cause. A peaceful cause, as it was intended.”
“You’re using it to fight digital school,” I said, amazed to meet the man whose invention had such an impact on my own life. “But if you’ve had a Cerberix this whole time, why couldn’t you steal my dad’s files five years ago like you tried to?” I asked.
Thomas grinned. “That’s a good question. There are a few limitations to a Cerberix. They act as protection against other hackers. It’s like a permanent security guard. Since your father has one, there are only about a dozen people in the U.S. who do, and we hit a dead end. Two Cerberixes cancel each other out.
“When Justin and I realized your father’s files were accessed from his own computer, it made perfect sense. That’s the only way it would have been possible. No one could have broken in unless they got to his computer and dismantled the security themselves, which I assume is what you did.”
I shook my head because I didn’t dismantle anything. He raised his eyebrows with surprise.
“How did you do it?” he asked me with a grin. It was so strange to
see someone proud of what I did. I’d only explained it once, to my father and Damon, and they weren’t quite as encouraging.
“When I was little, I always played in my dad’s office when he was working, because he was always working. When I got older, I’d read in his office and watch the news with him; it was the only way I could spend time with him. I watched him work on the computer, but he didn’t know I was paying such close attention. My dad sometimes used a dozen passwords to get on a single site. So I started memorizing what he did because I was impressed and I wanted to see if I could do it, like it was a game.”
Justin and Thomas both watched me with the same intense expressions.
“Kids always mimic what their parents do,” I pointed out. “It just so happens my dad is the CEO of digital school, so that’s what I tried to be.”
“But isn’t his computer sensitive to his fingerprints?” Thomas asked me, and it was true. The keyboard in his office only responded to his touch, which was another security measure.
“I used a MindReader to do it,” I said. “My dad bought one, when they first came out. Since I knew all of his passwords and where the files were, I just used the MindReader to access them.”
“Very clever,” Thomas said with a grin.
“It was easy,” I said. I stared back at him and wished this was the way my own father would look at me, with admiration in his eyes, not constant disappointment.
“Let me show you what kind of a difference you made,” he said. I hardly noticed Justin stand up and walk upstairs, I was too mesmerized by the charts and graphs and statistics Thomas was showing me on the monitors, the lists and profiles of thousands of supporters they gained after my Rebellion. I never knew the inspiration it motivated. My dad made it his mission to make sure I never knew. No wonder Justin committed nearly three years to track me down. He was right. I was the key they needed.
For the rest of the afternoon, Thomas showed me some of the research they collected on me over the past few years, where I was going online, who they thought I was. It was like watching a documentary of myself. For the first time in my life, I was proud of what I did. Maybe it wasn’t a mistake. It was just my way in the door, into a world in which I’d always belonged.
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