Keystone

by Katie Delahanty

  He sighs. “We won’t get separated—I have no intention of letting you out of my sight—but wrap some paracord around the pen so you can change your shoes. And hurry. You’re going to make us late.”

  Pivoting on my heel, I head to the closet to change. “You have an answer for everything,” I mutter.

  When I return, he frowns at my silver flats.

  “They’re all I have,” I say. “Besides, I’m a transplant survivor. People will cut me some slack on my shoe choice.”

  “I guess so. Come here.” He gestures me forward. Grabbing my shoulders, he lowers his face to mine, peering into my eyes.

  “What are you doing?” I squeak, my pulse throbbing in my throat at his proximity, trying to wiggle away from him.

  “Hold still.”

  “No.” I duck, and he lets me go.

  “Are you wearing your AMPs?” he asks. “I don’t see them.”

  “I don’t like stuff in my eyes. I was waiting until the last possible second.”

  He frowns. “You’re getting on my last possible nerve. I know you’re anxious, but can you please stop stalling?”

  “I’m not anxious,” I lie. I head to a mirror, and my fingers shake as I put my AMPS in place, blotting out my amber irises in favor of sky blue, making my eyes identical to Garrett’s. I mean Beau’s. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Puffing up my chest, I turn to face him, willing my legs to carry me forward.

  “Finally.” He extends his hand. “Come on, sis. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  March 20X6, San Francisco

  “So, when we see Nicki, we make sure she overhears us talking about your recovery. Remember, you’re about two months post-op—”

  “I know, I know. I’m feeling better, I’m so happy to be rid of the nanobots that were filtering my blood…”

  The opera house looms in front of us, augmented to look like it’s underwater—a sunken mermaid’s palace at the bottom of the sea.

  “I’m glad you know, because here goes nothing,” Garrett says. He starts up the stairs, and I’m surprised the ocean doesn’t carry him away.

  “We’re just going to go in?” I call after him, frozen in place at the thought of having to enter the water. It’s not real. It’s not real. But my limbs tremble all the same.

  “Yes.” He glances over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  A trickle of sweat rolls down my back. “I don’t like the water,” I admit.

  “You’re scared?”

  My lungs heave, my breath coming out in little puffs. “Yes.”

  He sighs and walks back down the steps, extending his hand. “Time to face your fears. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  His eyes hold mine, and I’m surprised by the genuine concern in them—that he’s not making fun of me, for once.

  Accepting his hand, I nod. The strength in his grip helps ease my anxiety as he tugs me into the sea. I hold my breath, expecting cold water to wash over me, but my clothes stay reassuringly dry. A glittering kelp forest parts, and, hanging on to Garrett, I climb the stairs. Undulating waves dizzy me as fish stream by, but he keeps me steady, whispering, “One step at a time.” When we reach the entrance to the colonnade, I’m breathing again.

  “Thank you,” I say. “You probably think I’m a total wimp, but I almost drowned once. Being underwater totally freaks me out.”

  “It’s cool,” he says, raising his eyebrows, reminding me to stay in character. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

  I press my lips together. “Right.”

  He turns to a woman sitting next to a velvet rope and holding a retina scanner. “I’m not in the database,” he says. “These tickets were a last-minute gift from Natasha Wilde.” Mentioning Faye’s alias, he hands her the paper-thin screen seemingly made of bubbles that serves as an invitation. “And the same goes for her.” He nods over his shoulder at me before leaning in, whispering, “She’s a survivor.”

  “Oh, what a dear.” I sense her pity. “Just a quick scan and you’re in.” She holds up the scanner.

  Garrett leans forward and peers into the eyeholes.

  If he’s nervous, he doesn’t show it.

  My stomach clenches; I hold my breath. The moment of truth.

  A light on the scanner turns green, and she waves him through.

  I exhale relief.

  “Your eyes, miss.” She holds up the scanner, and I bite my lip.

  “See you inside, Bets.” Garrett disappears into the crowd beyond the gate.

  So much for keeping me in sight. Wide-eyed, I watch him go.

  “Miss,” the guard repeats.

  “I’m not in the database,” I mumble. Hands shaking, I rummage through my handbag, pushing aside duct tape and glitter refills, searching for my ticket. A line of fancy people forms behind me, and, sweating, I say “just a minute” and get out of the way. I set my bag on a nearby wall to properly dig, and just as my fingers find the invitation, I feel breath on my ear.

  “Excuse me,” a male voice says.

  Slowly, I turn, terrified I’ve been discovered. But I recognize him immediately as the guy Faye left with yesterday, minus the mole.

  “Did you lose something?” He imperceptibly slips a rolled-up piece of paper into my hand.

  My shaking fingers close around the note, and I push it beneath my cuff bracelet. Keeping my eyes glued to his, I say, “No. I thought I’d lost my ticket, but I’ve just found it.”

  “Very good, then. Enjoy the party.” He walks off.

  Excitement pumping through my veins, my head clears, and it’s like that day in the obstacle course. I stop thinking and go. Returning to the line, I give the guard my ticket and submit to the retina scanner without blinking. The light turns green, and I sail through the gate on a sea of adrenaline.

  Inside, millions of bubbles float to the coffered ceiling. Seaweed dangles from chandeliers, and a school of colorful fish swishes past me, but I barely acknowledge my surroundings. In stealth mode, I enter the mouth of a sunken ship and hurry down a spiral staircase to the bathroom. The restroom has been spared the under-the-sea augmentation, and once I’m safely sequestered in a stall, I read the note.

  I figured out what she wants: to feel useful, to be a superhero, to feel like she can save someone. –F.

  I close my eyes, processing the information until it hits me. I almost drop the note. We have it backward. Garrett should ask her to fix something only she can…like finding a kidney for his sister. This changes our whole plan.

  My stomach knots. I hope it’s not too late.

  Rushing upstairs to the party, I search for Garrett, finding him standing casually at the bar like he comes to these things all the time. Ignoring the familiar jolt that pummels me at the sight of him, I hurry to his side.

  “It’s about time,” he says without looking at me.

  Staring up at his perfect profile illuminated by a sunshine ray filtered through the water, I’m surprised a chorus of augmented angels doesn’t break into song. But, good looks aside, he’s seriously the most irritating person on earth. “You haven’t talked to her yet, have you?” I ask.

  “No. She’s over there.” His eyes stay glued to the flawless blonde standing a few feet away.

  Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and her dress accentuates her tiny waist. She exudes femininity and sexuality, and, wearing Betsy’s braids, I’m like a silly country mouse in comparison. Use it. Stay in character.

  Nicki turns to her companions: an equally stunning girl with wild pink hair and a buff guy who stands guard over the beauties, his back to us. Alone, each could command the attention of the entire room, but together they’re virile and sensual and brighter than the star that leads you home.

  “Look at them,” I whisper in awe, something in my gut flaring wit
h familiarity, belonging. I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel like I know them. Maybe it’s because they’re who I used to be… But it’s more than that. The air is charged with energy, and I’m certain we’re on the verge of something big.

  Garrett nods, equally entranced by the threesome.

  I sense desire in him. Whether it’s to be them or to be with them, I’m not sure, but it sends my heart straight to the pit of my stomach, as I am certain he’ll never look at me that way. I’m destined to be his kid sister. Not that I care.

  Blinking to clear my vision of bubbles, I straighten my spine and lean my head on his shoulder, fake adoration in my eyes. “Let’s get her.”

  Garrett’s lips curve into a smile, and we’re conspirators. He elbows my side, whispering, “Now that sounds like a plan.” Slipping his arm around my waist, he guides me to them.

  Electricity shoots down my spine. “Hey,” I whisper back, “real quick. Change of plans. Faye passed me a note—”

  But I don’t finish my sentence because the guy Nicki is with turns around.

  My lungs seize like I’ve been punched in the gut, and my knees buckle. I’d recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

  Adam?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  March 20X6, San Francisco

  The room sways—it’s all I can do to stay on my feet—as a hundred questions collide in my brain. He’s alive. What is he doing here? What does he want with Nicki? His hair is cropped short, and his tan has faded, but there is no mistaking him.

  Looking like he’s seen a ghost—and maybe he thinks he is seeing one—he starts toward me. He moves slowly through the water, as if in a trance, drawn forward by whatever fragments of our past tie us together. There’s no doubt in my mind he recognizes me.

  My nerves stretch taut over my skin. If anyone were to touch me, I’d shatter. I’m done for. Abort mission…

  Shaking his head, he comes to a stop in front of me. He presses a finger to his lips, seemingly pulling himself together—or telling me to keep quiet. “I’m sorry. For a moment I thought I knew you. But I don’t. You must remind me of someone.” Gone is the Australian accent, and the sound of his (real?) voice renders me mute. “I’m Eric.” Smiling, he extends his hand, daring me to deny it.

  His toes are pointed away from me. Ready to run. It’s a tell. Liar! But I’ll keep your secret if you’ll keep mine… “Betsy,” I mumble, unable to keep my fingers from trembling in his. “People think they know me all the time. I have a familiar face.” Glancing at Garrett, I’m relieved he doesn’t seem to think anything is odd about this encounter. Yet.

  “You know who it is?” Adam/Eric points a finger at me, nodding. “Tiana Santos. You look just like her.”

  My stomach tightens, but, faking a laugh, I manage to keep the glint out of my eye. “I’ve never gotten that one before.”

  “No, she doesn’t, Eric. She doesn’t look a thing like Tiana Santos. How many drinks have you had?” Nicki says, appearing at his side, and I’m grateful to her.

  “You don’t see it? Maybe it’s just me. There are worse people to look like, eh?” Adam ushers her forward. “This is my friend Nicki, and this is Joanna.” He nods toward the pink-haired girl. “This is…Betsy, did you say it was?”

  “Yes.” I force a smile.

  “Cute,” he says.

  “Nicki.” Garrett takes over. “Just who my sister and I were hoping to meet.”

  Ack! I didn’t have time to tell him about the note! “I hope my brother isn’t too pushy,” I interject our new plan. “He has it in his silly head that you can help find me a new set of kidneys.”

  Adam/Eric cocks his head and arches an eyebrow. My temper flares, the word liar again exploding in my brain. Filing away whoever I thought Adam was, I tell myself I’ll process this later and step into a ray of watery sunshine, deliberately giving myself over to the best light.

  Garrett doesn’t miss a beat. “Hey, when you love someone as much as I love my sister, you’ll do anything to save her life”—he puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder, his hand hot on my skin—“even make a fool of yourself in front of the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.” He turns to Adam. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that. Sometimes I overstep my bounds by speaking my mind.”

  “It’s cool.” Adam shifts his weight. “It’s the truth. And speaking your mind is the only way to go.”

  His eyes flit to mine, but I refuse to acknowledge him.

  Nicki blushes, the pink staining her pretty cheeks, making her more inviting.

  I need to learn to do that on command.

  “You guys, stop,” she says. “And please, Betsy, I would love to help in any way I can. I know what you’re going through. All of it sucks. What stage are you in?”

  “Four. The filter-bots make me so tired.”

  “I bet, but you look great.”

  “You’re the sweetest,” I say, my nerves settling. I stop thinking as the lies tumble from my lips. “I just want to be hungry again—to want a burger and fries and actually be able to taste it. I want my life back!”

  “I’ve totally been there.” Nicki’s lower lip juts forward as she wipes a tear from her eye, and I notice the ring on her left middle finger. It has a dark gold band that looks ancient, like it was molded by hand, and four prongs hold in place a foggy blue stone. “I’ll put you in contact with our transplant coordinator. She can get you on the list right away.”

  Garrett touches Nicki’s arm and leans closer to her, lowering his voice. I can almost see the heated shivers run down her arm at his touch. He’s undeniable. “Is there any way we could get her moved up?” Garrett asks. “She puts on a good show, but to be honest, we don’t know how much time she has left.”

  “I might be able to pull some strings.” She smiles. “Let me see what I can do.”

  “Who wants a drink?” Adam/Eric asks. “I hear the Transplantinis are delicious.”

  “One of my dad’s terrible jokes.” Nicki rolls her eyes. “But this benefit raises zillions for the farm, so we put up with it.”

  “I’d love one,” Garrett says.

  “Me, too,” Joanna says.

  “None for me,” I say. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “I won’t have one, either. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out, Betsy,” Nicki says. “But if you’re interested, I have something else that won’t be so hard on your system.” She clicks open a compartment on her bracelet and reveals a treasure trove of herbs. “They’re all natural and organic. Medicine from the farm.”

  “Sure,” I say, knowing I need to bond with her. Whatever it takes.

  She smiles. “Follow me.”

  Adam/Eric gets drinks for everyone, and Nicki takes us upstairs to an unaugmented lounge that looks like an old movie palace, with gold wallpaper and red velvet carpets and furniture. I’m relieved to be coming up for air, to emerge from the sea to a space where unaugmented beauty is acceptable.

  Nicki curls onto a couch, tucking her feet under her, and I take a seat in the chair across from her. Garrett sits in a chair next to me while Adam/Eric and Joanna join Nicki on the couch.

  “These things are so boring sometimes.” She packs the herbs into a jewel-encrusted pipe. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the farm, but it gets old having to be ‘on’ all the time, to look like I’m having the time of my life.” Lighting the herbs, she takes a puff and passes it to Joanna. “I don’t know what I’d do without Eric.” She exhales. “He’s the only one who gets me.”

  She’s just like me. The instinct is so strong it almost knocks me off my feet. I know exactly what she wants to hear.

  “What about me?” Joanna asks, taking a big hit of the herbs. She coughs. “I’ve known you longer.” She hands the pipe to me.

  Nicki bats her eyelashes. “You know I love you, babe. You get me in other ways.”


  Adam/Eric squeezes Nicki’s knee. My heart squeezes right along with it. It was all a lie. He was playing me. If my instincts are supposed to be so great, where were they on this one? The wasted nights I spent crying over him come rushing back, and I’d love to cross the room and punch him in the stomach.

  “I totally understand. Sometimes it feels like everything is a lie,” I say, throwing myself into character so I’ll stay in my seat. He’s Eric. A stranger. You can smack him later. Taking a long drag of the herbs, I breathe in rosemary and mint before slowly exhaling. “I have to hide my kidney disease from the Networks. My parents don’t want me to seem sick or weak—it would be bad for Dad’s business. One of his tax shelters sells vitamin supplements, so I need to look like the picture of health and happiness. It’s exhausting. I would so much rather feel alive and be surrounded by genuine friends than look alive in a sea of fakeness, but real connections are hard to make in this world.”

  Nicki smiles and takes another hit. “I like you,” she says.

  “I like you, too,” I reply, and I’m not lying.

  Joanna waves her hand in front of her face, and Berkeley & the Brightside’s “Headshot” fills the room. “This party is way too mellow,” she says, pulling Nicki to her feet.

  Nicki hands the herbs off to Adam. “I love this song.” Giggling, she takes my hand and drags me into the dance party.

  The three of us girls dance while the guys wordlessly sip their drinks. I wonder if Garrett is nervous about the competition for Nicki’s attention, but most of me doesn’t care. I’m pleasantly buzzed, caught up in a world that spit me out, and I can’t help but wonder if, had we met in another life, Nicki would have been a true friend.

  “Nicki.” A voice sounds from across the room, bringing the party to an abrupt halt. “Your father is about to give his speech.”

  A stern woman dressed all in black, her mouth set in a firm line, beckons Nicki toward her. She’s flanked by two bodyguard types, and I imagine they’re scanning Garrett and me with the latest in AMP infotech. Expecting them to pounce, to expose me as a dead girl brought to life, I feel my breath catch in my throat.