Too many minutes pass for Rayelle to have beaten anyone’s time, and finally, it’s my turn.
“You’ve got this, Elisha.” Stewart starts his watch.
With a deep inhale, I walk through the door. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust to the dark, but when it does, I see scaffolds and ladders leading high into the rafters. It reminds me of one of the soundstages I visited in my previous life, but without the cameras. At least the visible cameras…
To my right, Weiss waits. “Toes on the red line,” he commands.
I stand poised at the ready, squinting up the ladder at what I guess is the entrance to an air-conditioning duct, remembering the last thing Allard told me:
Overthinking is your enemy. It can lead to wrong decisions. Trust your gut.
“On your mark, get set. Your hint is: it’s all an illusion. Go.” Weiss shoots a little gun into the air.
Leaping forward, I scramble up the ladder and clamber inside the narrow duct. Plunging into blackness, I feel the walls close in, my breath echoing in panicked puffs. Get a grip. Trust yourself. Exhaling conscious thought, I empty my mind and belly-crawl, feeling for a latch as I go. One full body length later, I find the false bottom and slide it open. Rolling onto my back, I drop my legs through the hole, hanging suspended by my arms while surveying the circular room with smooth, stainless steel walls below. I pull down the night-vision goggles I wear strapped around my head, illuminating a laser field.
There you go, Rayelle.
Silently lowering myself, I’m careful to avoid the crisscrossed beams. When my feet touch the floor, adrenaline floods my nose, and my sinuses clear. I step over the first beam and I’m off—bending, twisting, dodging—my body navigates the field seemingly of its own volition, controlling each steady beat of the dance. I don’t think. I’m in another place.
It’s the calmest I’ve felt in ages.
When I reach the metal wall on the other side of the room, I resist feeling for an exit. Sensing the walls may be armed with vibration technology that will sound an alarm, I drag my feet along the perimeter, disrupting as little air as possible while I hunt for a discrepancy in the metal. I quickly spot a seam, but I don’t see a trigger that will open the wall; there are no furnishings in the space, no latches on the floor, no fingerprints on the metal that indicate where to press.
It’s all an illusion.
The answer pops into my head.
Careful not to back into a laser beam, I hurl myself at the space to the right of the seam. I brace myself for impact, for the sirens that surely will sound, but nothing stops me. I slip through the fake wall and tumble to the other side. Tucking into a ball, I roll to a stop and jump to my feet. Before me is an ATM machine, a relic from when people used paper currency, secured with a Kaba Mas lock. I almost bust out laughing. When my dad starred in the movie Operation Infeasible, the prop master taught me how to dismantle—and put back together—a Kaba Mas lock while Dad was busy ignoring me.
Luck. Pure luck. But I’ll take it. I get to work dismantling the lock. As soon as I open the ATM, an exit sign illuminates to my right, and I duck through a narrow door beneath it that is equipped with a Kwikset lock so easy to pick it must be a joke. Emerging from the bunker, I’m blasted with cool forest air and applause from master thieves Allard, Abignail, and Robie.
“You’ve crossed the finish line, Elisha,” Robie says, clapping me on the back.
At his touch, the whirl ends and I come to my senses, having no clue how much time just elapsed.
“Did I pass?” I ask.
“The results will be revealed after everyone completes the course,” Abignail says. “Please make your way to the Atrium.”
Allard’s lips are pressed together, and she avoids eye contact as I pass. I can’t read her expression, but I think I was fast enough to stay off the Farm… Wasn’t I?
…
“How do you feel?” Rayelle asks, plopping down next to me in the Atrium. She’s followed by Sophia and Stewart.
“Stewart says you rocked it,” Sophia says.
“So, you know who the four are?” I ask Stewart.
“I think so…” Eyebrows raised, he looks me up and down, and my heart rate spikes.
“More importantly, you know who’s going to the Farm?” Rayelle asks him, pushing her glasses up on her nose as they slide down.
“I think it’s safe to say it’s not you, slowpoke.” He playfully pinches Rayelle’s arm. “You were second to last.”
Rayelle slumps in her seat. “I got through the air-conditioning duct and the laser field okay, but that Kaba Mas lock was impossible. It took me forever.”
“The lock was the worst part,” Sophia says. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Garrett’s going to win the Quest, and he’s going to pick Chloe. Nobody stands a chance.”
“You don’t have to be bitter about it, Master of the Middle,” Stewart says.
She sticks her tongue out at him.
“However, you, Elisha,” Stewart continues, “have the opportunity to disrupt everything. You’re the dark horse.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart drumming so loud it thunders in my ears.
“How’d you get through that lock?” he asks. “You weren’t here when we studied Kaba Mas locks. I mean, it took even me a year to learn how to crack them. Who taught you?”
I shrug. “Allard tutored me when I first got here…”
“But you couldn’t have learned every Kaba Mas lock in that short amount of time. We’ve spent years learning to dismantle them.” He presses deeper. “What’s your secret?”
“I don’t have any secrets,” I say too quickly. Taking a deep breath, I choose my words carefully. “My dad had the same lock on our barn. I watched it get repaired once, and then I used to break into it for fun. I got lucky.”
Stewart studies me, blinking, and I can tell he doesn’t buy it. Fortunately, before he can continue his interrogation, Robie’s voice sounds over the loudspeakers.
“Good afternoon. As you already know, we’ve calculated the results from this morning’s obstacle course, and the four who will compete in the Keystone Quest are as follows, in no particular order.” He clears his throat. “Chloe Mattson, Garrett Alexander, Kyran Barrera, and Elisha DeWitt.”
My name lands with a thud, and all eyes shoot to me. The noise in the Atrium raises an octave.
The room swirls in a blur of color, and I rest my forehead on my palm to steady it. I barely register the rest of the announcement, but Robie continues, “The person who will be sent to the Farm has already been notified and is being escorted there now.”
“Who isn’t here?” Rayelle asks, craning her neck to search the other tables.
“Marcel,” Stewart says. “I overheard Abignail say he used his cutting torch on the Kaba Mas and that disqualified him. Lucky for you.”
Rayelle audibly exhales.
I lift my head, trying to focus on my friends’ faces, unable to comprehend that I’m competing in the Quest.
“Kyran and Garrett are no surprise,” Sophia says. “And Garrett must have helped Chloe—”
“But Chloe completed the obstacle course before Garrett,” I finish her thought, processing everything out loud. “He couldn’t have tipped her off unless he already knew what the course looked like.”
“Interesting.” Stewart’s fingers drum on the table. “Garrett isn’t supposed to get special treatment.”
As he keeps reminding me. “To be honest, I believe him,” I say. “Maybe we shouldn’t underestimate Chloe.”
“That’s depressing.” Rayelle sighs. “She’s perfect.”
“Please,” Sophia says. “She’s a decoy. The lock probably took one look at her and its legs fell open.”
“We all have gifts.” Stewart laughs. “But you.” He gives me his full attention. “Let’s not forget
about you.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “We can forget about me,” I say. “It must be a miscalculation. It’s a fluke.”
“You actually came in second to Garrett.” Stewart’s smile widens as he folds his fingers in front of his mouth like some sort of evil lord. “Chloe, Garrett, Kyran, and Elisha. One of these things is not like the others. They’re all legacies, and one thing’s for certain, missy: they aren’t going to like it if you win. Which is why we have to make sure you do.”
“But I don’t want to win. I told you—I don’t want to pick my partner.” And I certainly don’t want to be partners with Garrett. We’d kill each other. As soon as I think his name, my eyes find him.
He looks up at that exact moment, smirking and silently applauding me.
Chloe catches my eye as well, shooting me a smug smile, her eyes narrowing in warning as she snuggles up to Garrett.
Scowling, I turn back to my table. “On second thought, maybe I do want to win.” It’s the only way to guarantee Garrett is not my partner. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Thirteen
November 20X5, Keystone
I turn down the corridor that leads to my secret room, intending to work on my journal. Allard scheduled a brain scan for next week, and I want to show progress. My stomach growls. It’s dinnertime, and I should be in the Atrium, but I’ve been skipping meals, claiming I need to study—which I do—but I’m also avoiding Garrett, Chloe, and Kyran. Ever since our names were announced, everyone has taken sides. There’s even an underground betting ring. Garrett is the odds-on favorite, and I’m the long shot. It’s earned me several supporters, spiking my popularity, and I don’t like the notoriety. But as much as I don’t want the added attention winning would bring, guaranteeing Garrett isn’t my partner is tempting. And I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t beat Chloe. She’s the real reason I’ve been putting in extra study hours.
The walls narrow, and the air thickens. Lost in thought, I miss a turn. Now I’m in an older section of the Vault with no recollection of how I got here. I pass the Sphinx of Hatshepsut, an Egyptian statue with a lion’s body and a female human head. According to the plaque at its base, it was stolen from the Met in 1960 by Barrett McLaughlin, a Keystone alum and art historian. When he was working on the restoration of Gallery 131, he made casts of the statue, re-assembling the forgery at the Met and later reconstructing the original here. Beyond the Sphinx are the gates to the Pyramid, a replica of Cairo’s Grand Egyptian Museum that houses the Vault’s ancient treasures. Made of iron and stone, the gates are nearly flush with the ceiling, impossible to scale. Breaking the lock that holds them shut is the only way in.
This isn’t what I planned on doing tonight, but I’m up for the challenge and happy to put off reliving my past for another night. Kneeling in front of the gates, I get to work. The lock is an ancient pin tumbler with a trick element that opens successive keyholes and is surprisingly difficult to pick. It takes me hours to crack it. By the time I’m finished, I’m too exhausted to explore the treasures on the other side, and I sit on the floor resting my eyes before hiking back to the dorms.
Footsteps echo down the hall. Sensing Stewart is coming, my eyes flutter open as he appears around a corner.
“There you are,” he says. “Just who I’ve been looking for. You weren’t at dinner.”
“You missed me?”
“Absolutely.” He grins. “How’s Quest training going?”
“You placed a bet, didn’t you?” I frown.
He sits next to me. “I did. And I’d like to protect my investment, Scarlet Spy, but I also want to see you win.”
Hating the nickname, I cringe. It makes me feel like an outcast who should be wearing a scarlet letter, even though I know it’s probably a reference to how easily I blush. Either way. Ugh.
“Why?” I ask. “Other than your love of underdogs.”
“I do enjoy a come-from-behind victory.” He laughs. “But I also feel like you’re one of us.”
“And who is ‘us’?”
“Listen, a lot of thinking at Keystone is old-school, but some of us don’t want to live off the grid forever. Personally, I don’t think all technology is bad, and someday I’d like to rejoin society as long as it’s not ‘Super Brain’ society. I get the feeling you would, too.”
“I don’t know what I want.” I lean my head back against the gates. “And you shouldn’t get your hopes up. Garrett knows this place inside and out. Don’t you think his parents will make sure he wins?”
Stewart shrugs. “I don’t know. They seem fair. If anything, they’re harder on him… Neither of his brothers nor his sister won Quests. I don’t think they even competed in them.”
“I didn’t know he had siblings.”
“They’ve all been initiated and are working in the field. He’s the youngest—and by all accounts the smartest.” Stewart leans his head back next to mine so we’re both staring down the stone corridor.
“What’s their deal, anyway?” I ask. “They seem like nice, normal parents. I can’t imagine them stealing anything.”
“It’s weird, right? But I heard that back in the day they were the most-wanted couple in Europe.” He studies me out of the corner of his eye. “Garrett has skills, but I have a feeling about you. Besides, we’re friends. I want to help you win in any way I can.”
Friends. The magic word. Enjoying the fuzzy warmth prickling across my skin, I smile. “I’d love your help, but I’m not sure I want to win.”
He sits up. “Why not?”
I glance at him without moving my head. “I don’t like being the center of attention.”
“Well, it’s too late for that, so you might as well try to win.”
“Yeah…” I wrinkle my nose, trying to work out the real reason I’m hesitant. “I guess the bigger issue is that I’ve never been good at anything. I’ve failed at everything I ever tried, and I don’t know if I could take it if I failed at this. I feel like I could be good at being a thief, like it’s the closest I’ve come to succeeding at something—I at least have the fantasy Keystone is where I belong—but if I give it my all and I lose, it might break me. I’m scared to want it. It feels much safer to accept third—I at least want to beat Chloe—place.”
“Elisha.” Grabbing my shoulders, Stewart stares me directly in the eye. “You are a thief. This is one hundred percent what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re a natural! You already beat everyone—with one glaring exception—in the obstacle course. You’re already a winner. I think you owe it to yourself to go after this. To want this. To prove to yourself that you are someone who goes after what she wants. Forget your pride and turn that fantasy life into reality.” Giving me a final, little shake, he drops his hands.
“Pride.” I groan, smacking my hand against my forehead. “I know, I know. How did you get to be so wise, Stewart?”
“It’s my gift.” He smiles. “Stick with me, kid. You can have it all.”
“Is that a Matthew McConaughey impression?” I ask.
“Nice work,” he says. “I wouldn’t expect a Maker kid to get that.”
“Why? He wasn’t a thief, he was an actor.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Really?” Straightening my spine, my eyes bulge.
“It’s not my secret to tell.” He laughs. “But mostly it’s because Disconnects only watch film, so we’re stuck with a lot of old movies.”
“Well, I’ve always loved old movies. They were so much more fun when all they did was tell a story instead of being a virtual-life experience. I like really old ones, like The Goonies. My parents were so afraid one public misstep would ruin my chances of becoming an Influencer when I grew up, they kept me under lock and key. Movies were practically my only friends. It was a good thing my dad had a massive collection of them.” For once, my Maker cover story aligns with the
truth, and I’m glad I get to share a little bit of the real me.
“It sounds like you were always meant to be one of us.”
“Maybe.” Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I smile.
“We have the original The Goonies here in the Vault, you know. We should watch it sometime.”
“I’d like that.” For a moment, I dare to believe in the possibility of real friendship.
“Hold on a second. Question. Have you ever seen Jerry Maguire?”
“Yes. My dad worshipped classic actors like Tom Cruise, so I’ve seen all his films.”
“Cool. Okay. What’s the famous line from that movie?”
I don’t have to think about it. “‘You had me at hello’?”
“The other one.”
“‘Show me the money’?”
“Correct. Good. You’re one of us. Just checking.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Most people believe the line is ‘Show me the currency.’”
“No, it’s not.” My jaw drops. “No way. That movie came out before there was a world currency! Before the new era when the world became one nation and we marked the change by adding letters to our years. It was, like, 1996.”
“Exactly—but try finding a copy that still says ‘money.’ You can’t, outside the Vault or your dad’s collection, apparently. We have the original. We know the truth, but that’s one way the Corporates are changing history as part of the plan to get everyone to enter the Simulation. It seems like no big deal, but eventually people will forget there ever was something called ‘money.’” Standing, he drags me to my feet. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
“Where are we going?” I follow close behind him, crouching as the ceiling slopes.
“To the Bodleian. It’s in the oldest wing of the Vault, but it’s not far.”
It’s nearly pitch-black, and he lights lanterns as we go. I cling to the hem of his shirt so I don’t lose him. “Stewart, are your parents legacies?”
“No—they’re Unrankables.” He sighs. The path descends sharply, and cold air swirls around my ankles. “My dad was a doctor, but he refused to accept that a robot could diagnose his patients better than he could. He kept going on about human touch and compassion being elements of healing, and eventually he lost it all… Ah! Here we are.”
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