The answer is as clear as it is chilling—it serves the people in power.
As long as jackers gangs are allowed free rein of the city—allowed to mind-abuse people like Jiaying with impunity—then readers will remain afraid. And convinced that all jackers are thugs. I used to agree because that was all I knew—the lawlessness of the Clans. But it was built into the system all along, designed to force jackers to remain in hiding. And I know better than anyone what happens when people have to live in secrecy—bad men get away with murder.
This was why DARPA was—and probably still is—spiking the water. They need the turmoil of jackers popping up randomly in the population, churning the well of fear, with the Fronter’s hyped-up bigotry turning family members against one another.
The battle between readers and jackers serves people like Torquin all too well. The whole reason I’m here is to bring down the men who are breaking the world—so readers and jackers can live in peace. Only now Tessa wants to change who she is and join the jacker side to fight that battle. My reflexive no screwed up everything—and there’s no way for me to fix it, not until I’m out of here.
Juliette’s breathy snorts pick up their pace. A small moan rumbles deep in her chest. Her long blonde hair has fallen over her face, which is half buried in her purple pillow, but I can see her eyes rapid-twitching underneath her eyelids. I don’t know if I should wake her from this dream or not. Her bed takes up half the room, but when she came in last night, she crawled across the vastness to curl up next to me, one pillow under her head, another pink fuzzy one clutched like a lifesaver in her arms.
Then she whimpers, and her fingers dig into the fur, shaking, and I can’t just watch.
I link into her mind. Juliette! Wake up! The swirl of her dreamscape washes over me. She’s fighting off a hundred orbs, shooting at them with an electric wand, but they’re buzzing like a swarm all around her, diving in and striking her with their shocks. She cries out with each one and strikes back more furiously, but she’s losing.
Juliette!
She hears me, but it just confuses her.
I’m loathe to jack her, but… I reach deep into her conscious mind, the part connected to the reality brought in by her eyes and ears and skin, and jack it to awareness.
She gasps and lurches up to sitting, arms flailing.
It’s okay. It’s just a dream. I’m here. I reach out with my hands to soothe her because she’s still panting and twitching like she’s not out of the dreamscape yet. One of her hands smacks me across the face. I lean back, wincing, but grab hold of her hands, then jack open her eyes.
They stare at nothing. In her mind, she sees Sammi—bloody and broken.
She opens her mouth and screams.
Holy crap. I yank her into a hug that traps her frantic arms then jack in harder to wrench her out of the dream. The scream cuts off, and she jolts against me, but I keep hold. It’s okay! It’s okay, I link to her, pulling back to look her in the eyes.
She sees me. Zeph, what, oh my god, Zeph…
It’s all right. It was just a dream.
A dream,she echoes back, blinking hard. A dream.
I slowly release her, making sure she’s still with me. Sammi’s fine. You’re fine. Don’t hit me again, okay?
I hit you? Her face scrunches up in horror.
I’m teasing, Juliette. It’s okay. I look her over, and it’s bad. I know she’s hardly been sleeping, but the dark circles make it look like something is killing her. Which, honestly, something is—I know she feels responsible for her father’s tech, and she’s desperate to build a defense against it, especially now that Torquin has gone full Round Up Jackers mode. At least with jacker gangs, but Juliette and I both know that’s just a first step. It has to be. There’s nowhere for this to go but down.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s a refrain in her head, but I don’t interrupt because she’s rubbing her eyes, and I think the mantra helps her wipe away the remnants of the dream. Finally, she lets out a deep sigh and throws off the covers. Her bed’s a mile wide so she’ll have to crawl on hands and knees to the edge. She gives the large real estate a despondent look like it’s just too much of a challenge.
You don’t have to run right back to the lab, I try. I can hear the scattering of thoughts trying to coalesce in her head, a mix of theories about building a resistance field, leftover anxiety from the dream, and a vague sense of emptiness.
She turns to face me, the bedspread rustling as she folds her legs. How are you holding up?
Fine. I’m not, but the last thing I want is to talk about Tessa.
You should have changed her. Juliette’s eyes are sharper, now that we’ve apparently moved on to my problems.
We discussed this. And I have zero interest in discussing it further.
And you’re wrong.
I sigh and drop my gaze to my phone, which is still playing vids of jackers being rounded up by the CJPD. I hold it up to her face. Is this what you want? Because that’s what being jacker will mean here real soon. It’s low—I know she’s worried about Sammi—but miraculously, it doesn’t even work.
Obviously not. She snags my phone and tosses it to the far side of the bed.
Hey—
Zeph, listen to me.
I glower but keep my thoughts to myself.
Juliette’s blue eyes are locked on mine. It’s what she wants—it’s what we all want. To make a difference. To do something about this nightmare that’s happening all around us. I close my eyes, and it’s there, and when I wake up… it’s no different, Zeph. That’s no way to live!
I can’t disagree with that. But Tessa doesn’t have to be—
She wants to! Don’t you get it? If you care about her, you can’t hold her back from doing what she’s called to do.
I grimace and drop my gaze to the pink comforter between us. It’s just that… I don’t have to admit this. I can keep it locked in my head if I want to—the fact that I don’t want Tessa’s mind to be locked up like mine. I don’t want to lose the ability to dip into her thoughts, to know what she’s thinking, like I always have, even before we were together. But I know it’s monstrously unfair—Tessa’s never known any thought I didn’t want to share. Things will change, I link to Juliette. Between us. If I do it. I can’t look at her as I say it—even so, my face is heating.
Things have already changed because you didn’t.
That stings enough to make me look up. That’s not fair. I keep telling myself it’s not permanent, that I can fix it if I can just get out of Tiller’s estate and talk to Tessa—
I’m trying to help you. Juliette gives me a pinched look, and in her mind, she’s wrestling to keep something out of her conscious thoughts… and losing. Or she gives up the fight. You know what my father wants? What he told me when he brought me to that abomination of an office?
What? Everything in me stills.
He wants me to marry you.
I…what? My brain just stops.
Her face has fallen blank, but her emotions are seething. He’s given me a week to decide.
Decide what? I demand. Because obviously we’re not getting married.
Decide if it’s you or a sperm donor.
What the hell? The horror is like a convulsive shock that pulses through my entire body. I cringe away from her. He can’t be serious.
He’s dead serious. That haunted look is back, the one she had when she first came back from her meeting with her father two days ago. Either I agree to marry you and get busy on getting pregnant with the next generation of Tillers or Daddy’s going to provide an alternate donor. One he’s already picked out, so you know it’s someone who’s certified as a reader. She scrunches her face up with mock severity. He assured me that I wouldn’t actually be raped or anything, just have sperm implanted in my body against my will while I’m safely unconscious. As if that isn’t somehow worse. Either way, he felt it was important for me to be “with child” soon. She makes air quotes with her fingers. T
hat it would “settle me down.”
I’m speechless—my mind is blank except for an unspeakable horror that’s taken hold and left my mouth gaping.
A week, Zeph. There’s a deep hollowness to her thoughts. A kind of black despair that must have been driving her ever since her father laid it all out. And I’ve already used up two days.
But… I… Juliette… I won’t let him do that to you! It comes sputtering out as my brain reboots from the shock. You know that, right?
She gives me a weak smile. Don’t worry. I’ll die before I let him implant me with his hand-selected demon spawn.
The horror is still overpowering my mind. For as much as Tiller hates jackers—as if controlling people is the worst thing one human could do to another—he has no problem trying to control his daughter. I guess mind control is only bad if someone’s doing it to him. And his daughter is fair game, as long as he’s the one in control.
My need to inflict serious pain on Tiller is surfacing.
But the logical move is to simply get out. We’ll just leave, I link to Juliette. Now. Right now. I’m halfway off the bed with no plan whatsoever—I’ll just jack our way out.
Zeph, no. She’s reaching out a hand to stop me. We have to be smart about this.
I hold up, uncertain. Smart. Right. And also get the hell out now.
She drops her hand and shakes her head. I wasn’t going to tell you. Not until I had to. I need time in my lab to figure out a counter weapon to the mind-blaster. And he said if I ran away again, he would find me, and…
And what? I ease back to sitting on the bed next to her.
And he would kill you. A shudder goes through her. He said if I cared for you but didn’t want to get married, I should just let you go now. He would be fine with that. But if I ran away again, he would make sure you didn’t return.
Now I’m just pissed. Well, he’ll be a little surprised when I’m forced to kill jack him in self-defense. And I seriously think I should have done that before now.
Juliette’s shaking her head. No, this is all wrong. Zeph… I’m going to leave, I promise. But first, we must get everything we can out of this place—my research, whatever you can get from his office, everything. We’re going to need it.
It’s finally dawning on me. To take him down. Because we’ll need protection.
Exactly. Her shoulders drop in relief. No matter what, he will hunt me down. And you. And… She purses her lips in frustration. That’s why you should do what Tessa asks. No matter what. No matter how you feel or if you think it’s dangerous or if you just don’t want things to change between you. This is her choice, Zeph. And we don’t always get second chances.
There’s a choking feeling that’s closing my throat. Okay. Maybe. I don’t know. Could I even bring myself to do it, knowing the pain it would cause? Maybe if I dosed Tessa with enough brain chemicals… I rub both hands across my face. Either way, I’m going to get out and make things right with her. Right now, we need to get everything we can and get out. We’ll find you another lab. Just pack up whatever you can carry. I’ll jack my way into your father’s office, get what I can, and then we get out. Agreed?
Yeah. Okay. She looks exhausted.
Even linked into her mind, feeling the weight of her fatigue, I get the sense that it’s just the surface of a really deep well. Her father is treating her like a baby-factory. It’s one thing to treat everyone else as dispensable pawns in your grand Dominate the World ambitions… but your own daughter? My assessment before that there was nothing the man wouldn’t do didn’t come close to imagining this.
Juliette crawls over the expanse of her bed. I clamber off, too. She swipes clothes off the floor and heads to the bathroom. I have a whole closet stocked full of clothes my size, so I rummage through and find something with long sleeves and pants, in case we have to book it through the forest surrounding the estate. Juliette emerges from the bathroom looking slightly less like death—her bright pink t-shirt is long-sleeved, and her jeans and boots show we’re on the same thought wave.
She picks up her pink-sparkle backpack—which she hasn’t used since school let out—and dumps the contents on her bed. Just a scribepad and some loose hair things.
Is there anything you’d like to bring? I link to her. This reminds me of when I left home, running away so the Clans wouldn’t find my family. I stuffed my pack with clothes, unos, and a photo frame—not much, but ever since, it’s been all I’ve had to remind me of home.
I’m not taking a thing from this place. Juliette’s glare cuts through me.
I suddenly realize I’ve never asked… What about your mom? Juliette’s never mentioned her.
Died from an overdose of obscura when I was ten. She says this like she’s reading the scroll line from a tru-cast.
I’m sorry. What am I doing, bringing this up?
She shrugs. I never could figure out if Dad was crazy before she died or not. I was just a kid, and every kid thinks their dad is a superhero, right? But I don’t think he ever was. I think he did crazy shit to my mom—trapped her like he’s trying to trap me. That’s why she did it—why she killed herself.
I wince and legit don’t know what to say. I slip my hand into my pocket, reflexively searching for my memory stamp. Everywhere I’ve gone, no matter what, I’ve carried it on my person. The one reminder I had of a better time.
Juliette doesn’t have that better time—not anymore. She’s already thrown it away. You sure you don’t want to bring anything? I ask anyway.
Let’s go. She hoists the backpack on her shoulder and heads for the door.
We make quick time down to the lab.
The staff ignore us, probably because we’re regulars now in the northeast wing. Once inside, Juliette rifles through her drawers, pulling out electrical instruments and small tools and stuffing them in her backpack. I scan the vids on the screen that shows her spy cams around the estate and throw out my mental reach, searching for Tiller.
“Richards is out front with the exterior security staff.” He’s clearly visible on the front-door camera. “I can’t find your father, though.” I can only mentally search inside the estate because an anti-jacker shield blankets the exterior walls like Second Skin—but Tiller’s not the kind to take a little stroll around the grounds. If he’s here, he’s inside.
“He’s probably in his office.” Juliette’s moved on to sweeping stuff off the counters and into her pack. She brings over the data probe I used the first time to gather data inside Tiller’s office.
“I’ll get what I can,” I say, taking the small rectangular box, “but where are my earbuds?”
“You’re jacking in and out, right?” She’s zipping up her pack and pulling it on. “So I’m going with you.”
I scowl. “I’ll do better on my own.” The last thing I want is Juliette available as a hostage.
She grits her teeth. “You’re not leaving me behind, Zeph.”
I gape at her. “No. I’m not. I swear.”
The torment on her face is more fear than anger, and I can’t blame her—with me gone, she’d have no way of stopping her father and his plans for a baby-making horror show, starring her.
I wave the data probe in front of her. “We could skip this part. Just leave now. I’ll jack security into turning over one of the autolimos. That’s my favorite plan, actually.”
She squints her eyes at the vids, scanning them. “We need to know what my father’s up to.”
“Fine. But let me go in on my own. With earbuds. That way if something goes wrong, it’s just me that’s caught. Okay? I’m about 99% sure I can jack my way through this, but just in case I’m an idiot, I want you to have a chance. You’ll have zero if you’re caught with me.”
Her shoulders slump, but the rigor-mortis of fear gripping her seems to have lifted. She turns back to a drawer and retrieves the earbuds. “What’s our plan, then?”
I slip the earbuds in. “We split up. I go for your dad’s office, you head up front, hide out
near the foyer. I’m going to be controlling literally everyone on the way in, but once I’m inside the north wing, on the other side of the shield, you’re vulnerable out here. You need to stay out of thought range and out of sight, but near the front. Got it?”
She nods then glances at the screen. “I can use my phone to remotely run the data probe, but I won’t be able to control the cameras from up front.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I grimace. This will not be as easy as I’m making out. “Once I’m out of the north wing, I can jack everyone again. Then we just have to get out before the CJPD arrives.”
Her eyes get a little wider. “Okay.”
My stomach’s starting to squirm. “Look, we could delay this. Try to find another way that’s not going out in a blaze of jacking glory. Because there’s no coming back from that. Everyone will know what I am, including your father. And he’ll know you helped me. I guess you could say I jack-napped you—”
She shakes her head in fast, small movements. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You should. He’ll want my head, regardless.” I breathe out the nerves. “You need to be sure, Juliette.” I hope she doesn’t change her mind—I can’t leave her here.
“I’m sure.” And she looks it.
“All right.” I stuff the data probe in my pocket and jack my earbuds to talk to my phone. “I’ll go first. Count to ten then head to the front. Keep the chatter down. I’m going to need my focus. Unless something goes wrong, then speak up. Got it?”
Broken Wide Page 10
