by Kristin Cast
“Ohhh!” she groaned again, wrapping her arms around her middle. Her stomach churned and bubbled in response.
Pacing next to her bed, she brought up the messaging thread she shared with Astrid. Elodie ignored the completely one-sided column of texts she’d started sending the second Astrid had left in the Pearl, and she began a new message.
Before Holly’s update, each message had to be typed out letter by letter through a sophisticated system that tracked eye movement over the keyboard, until Holly recognized patterns and could autofill whole portions of the text. Now, with a simple thought and the slightest bit of concentration . . . boom! Text.
Talk to me. Please!
She hesitated before adding that line to the tower of panicked, pleading sent texts stretching in front of her vision. She needed to see Astrid and for Astrid to see her.
Would it change anything? It was worth a try.
She chewed her lip, wincing as her teeth dug into fresh skin. “Holly, vidlink Astrid.” Elodie smoothed her hair behind her ears and clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking.
Elodie’s breath stuck in her chest as the ringing abruptly ceased and seconds of dead air hung on the line as Astrid’s vidlink connected. Astrid had answered. She’d actually answered. As her face appeared, Elodie had to figure out what to say. Her heart fluttered against her ribs.
Astrid’s hair hung in inky black sheets past her shoulders. She started to speak, then tucked one lock behind her ear before sucking in a breath and meeting Elodie’s gaze. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
Elodie’s throat went dry and her teeth became an impenetrable wall holding back her words.
Astrid glanced down at something out of Elodie’s field of view and her hair slid back to cover her right eye. “Something happened. Something I don’t understand.”
The wall crumbled and words tumbled from Elodie’s tongue. “I know. I’m so sorry! I never meant for you to see that. I never meant to do it. Aiden was in the seat in front of me and then he was next to me and then he was . . .” Elodie sucked in a breath so deep she had to ground her feet to keep from floating away. “Everywhere.”
A tear slid down Astrid’s cheek, halting Elodie’s words.
“Not that.” Astrid’s thin fingers trembled as she brushed back her hair. “That’s something I—” A sob squeaked past Astrid’s trembling jaw.
Elodie worried her worn cotton collar. “Astrid—”
Astrid’s attention turned abruptly. Her father’s sharp voice cut through the feed. “Your mother’s made dinner.”
Astrid’s jaw tightened. “Yes, father.”
“And wipe your face.” He paused somewhere outside Elodie’s view, and Astrid seemed to cave in on herself. Her shoulders slumped and her head hung low. “You don’t want anyone to think you’re upset. You’ll worry your sister.”
Astrid nodded almost imperceptibly before scrubbing the back of her hand down her tear-glossed cheek.
“And you mustn’t say anything about what happened. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to mention that, but—” He let out a weary breath. “Here we are.”
Astrid lifted her head. “I won’t say anything, Father. You have my word.”
A burst of dry laughter echoed from off camera. “Daughter, think about whether or not your word should mean anything to me.”
The hiss of the door and Astrid’s immediate deflation signaled his exit.
Astrid’s father was usually nice, usually cheerful. The kind of dad who made Elodie wish hers was more than a picture on a mantle.
Elodie swallowed. “Is everything okay?”
Astrid chewed the sharpened tip of her polished nails. “Will you meet me tomorrow?” Desperation clawed at her voice in a way Elodie had never heard before.
Elodie nodded feverishly.
Astrid cleared her throat. “The sands,” she said, her earlier vulnerability replaced with Astrid’s normal matter-of-factness. “I have to go.” Her mouth quirked with a failed attempt at a smile. “Dinner and everything.” With practiced perfection, Astrid pulled her hair into her signature high pony, smoothed out the bumps, and twisted a clear tie around the base.
Elodie winced as her teeth again found the delicate spot of new flesh on her lip. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The feed went dark and Elodie exhaled, collapsing back against her mound of pillows.
Her ease was immediately interrupted by another wave of anxiety. Nothing was fixed. If anything, the situation was even more strange now. She and Astrid hadn’t actually talked about anything. They hadn’t fixed anything. And what was all that with Astrid’s father?
Elodie dragged her hands down her cheeks. No, nothing was better. Somehow, she felt even more uneasy than she had before the vidlink.
Elodie rolled over and pressed her face into a fluffy pillow. Hot breath warmed her nose and mouth as she exhaled.
Nothing was ever going to be better.
Astrid had told. Elodie knew that for a fact. So what was the Key waiting for? Why weren’t soldiers trying to pound down her door and take her away in chains? They should just do it and get it over with.
She sucked in a breath.
The corporation would send her to Rehabilitation. That’s what they did with people like her. But she couldn’t go to Rehab. She’d heard stories. The things they did to get citizens back on the right path . . .
She filled her lungs and pressed her face deeper into the mound of pillows. A scream tore from her throat.
“i can’t go to rehab!”
The words were swallowed immediately by the thick fluff. Erased, like they had never happened. If only erasing time was as easy.
Clink.
Elodie lifted her head from the suffocating heat of her trapped fears. At some point, her eyes had teared. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks.
Clink.
There it was again. A tinkling against glass.
She popped up onto her elbows and craned her neck until her window came into view along with the river rocks she’d placed on the sill. The lace edges of her petal pink pillowcases quivered beneath her in the wake of her steady breaths.
Clink. A gray spot nicked the window.
Elodie pushed herself off the bed and crept toward the window.
Clink.
No, not spots. Rocks.
She threw the window open and peered out over the ledge.
Aiden lowered his arm mid windup and waved at her.
Elodie’s pulse surged and her heartbeat thrummed wildly. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was hoarse and her throat scratchy from screaming into the pillows.
Aiden jumped and grabbed ahold of the thick tree limb above him before expertly pulling himself onto the next branch, then the next and the next until he was an arm’s length away from Elodie’s second-story window. She had descended that very same tree days before. Climbing down was much easier than climbing up, gravity made sure of that, but Aiden had sped up the massive pink magnolia like he had suction cups for hands.
“I wanted to see you,” he said, a bit breathless as he closed the distance between them and sat on her windowsill. “I needed to see you.” He brushed a stray leaf out of his hair. “Can I come in?”
“No!” Elodie hissed automatically. “You shouldn’t even be here! You should have sent me a text. I could have met you somewhere else. Anywhere else!”
Aiden brushed away bits of tree bark from his shorts. “You never would have come to meet me anywhere. Not after what happened.”
Elodie wrung out her hands. He was right. Aiden was what had happened. He was the only thing that had ever happened. But this one thing was big enough to swallow her world.
“Or I could stay outside and we can talk out in the open. In front of everyone! ” He practically shouted the last bit as he leaned out the wi
ndow and made a sweeping gesture that took in the empty sidewalk and street. But her neighbors were nosy, and Elodie never knew who was watching.
“Fine.” Elodie slid the rocks on her windowsill into a pile in the corner before stepping aside. “You can’t stay long or be loud.”
As he crawled through the open window, Aiden looked around. She had never had a guy in her room before. Not even Rhett. And she was wearing an old holey T-shirt she’d first gotten years ago from the New Americans for Wellness gala, one of her mother’s many philanthropic causes. Elodie’s stomach flip-flopped and her cheeks flamed.
Aiden ruffled his mohawk. His dark curls and rich brown skin seemed to deepen against the stark white of his tee. “Nice room.”
Elodie balled her hands into the bottom of her oversized shirt. “I talked to Astrid.”
Aiden faltered, scrubbing a hand down his cheek as he sat against the windowsill. “Elodie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“No, Aiden, that’s the problem. You didn’t think. You just acted. You did something that has endangered both our lives.” The panic returned, sending rivers of ice through Elodie’s veins. “The Council—they could sentence us to death.” It was a realization she hadn’t been able to see before. The idea had been dormant, hibernating until she and Aiden were together again to jostle it awake.
Aiden surged to his feet and held up his hands. “That’s not going to happen.”
“What makes you think that? Of course it’s going to happen. We broke a law. Not just a law, the law.” Laughter bubbled up Elodie’s throat. “We’re traitors. That’s what the Key does to traitors.”
“No, Elodie. We’re not. You’re not.”
“That’s right. You have to make the distinction because you actually have committed treason.” Her knees went weak as a last hiccup of laughter escaped her. “Eos.” Elodie pulled the chair out from her desk and dropped onto the seat. “They’ll find out about your involvement with Eos. That I was there . . .”
“Elodie, no, listen to me.” Aiden knelt down before her. “The Key won’t find out about any of that. You’re not going to tell them and I’m sure as hell not saying a word. We’re the only two who know.”
“We kissed, Aiden.” Elodie’s eyes flooded and her voice came out a whisper.
“And I’d do it again. Will do it again. A hundred times again,” he said. “Next time we won’t get caught. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Next time ?” Elodie hopped up from the chair and paced between her bed and desk. “There can never be a next time, Aiden. I’m matched. To Rhett. I’m getting married in four months.”
Aiden’s head swiveled as his eyes followed her. “We don’t have to be matched or married to be together.”
Elodie stopped, her brow furrowed. “So what? I’m supposed to marry Rhett, but be with you behind his back? If you think that’s something I’ll agree to, you don’t know me very well.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It was a mistake. The whole thing was a mistake.”
Aiden stepped back like he’d been shot. “That’s not how it felt. You were there. You kissed me back.”
“I did not!” Her entire body sizzled.
Aiden threw up his hands. “Shit, Elodie. If we’re going down for this—and we will—with who I am, who my sister and mother are, it won’t be bad. Probation, career reassignment—” He took a deep breath. “We’re going to get in some sort of trouble. We are. Both of us. That’s happening, so don’t you want to be honest about us?”
Elodie gripped the back of her chair to keep her bones from rattling loose. “It was wrong, Aiden.”
“Then why did it feel the way it did? Like it was supposed to happen. Like it was meant to happen,” Aiden said. “Maybe everyone else is living life wrong and we’re the only people living it right.”
Elodie sagged against the windowsill. “Or maybe we’re just lying to ourselves.”
A swift series of knocks cracked their conversation.
Everything within Elodie stilled as her wide-eyed gaze locked onto Aiden’s.
Don’t say a word, she mouthed.
“Elodie!” her mother shouted from outside her door. “I just received a notification from that neighborhood watch I signed up for. Says there’s a prowler nearby. A young man. What kind of young man do you think would go prowling? And in this neighborhood!” The keypad on the inside of Elodie’s door flashed red as Gwen tried to open it. “El, honey, your door is locked.”
“Privacy, Mom! Jeez!” Elodie yelled through chattering teeth before she feverishly motioned for Aiden to move back toward the open window.
“El, sweetheart, let me in.” The door panel again flashed red. “I’m starting to worry.” Gwen’s tone belied more threat than concern.
“Everything’s fine! Just, uh, changing,” Elodie called.
Another flash of red. “There’s no reason to be modest. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you without your clothes on.”
Aiden had one leg out the window before he paused. “We can’t stop fighting for what’s right,” he whispered. “There are things you still don’t know about the Key. Things that, if they came out, would make everything different.” He covered her hands with his and pressed his lips against her fingertips. “Things that would make this different. The way we live now isn’t the way the world is supposed to work.”
Elodie snatched her hand back. “But this is the way the world is, so . . .” she trailed off. “What’s the point in trying?”
“Love, Elodie. Happiness, hope, freedom. Those all mean something to you. If they didn’t, we never would have found each other,” Aiden said, pulling himself into the tree.
“Elodie Grace! You open this door right this second!” Gwen shouted.
Elodie gripped the edge of the window. “You have to go.”
“Come to the warehouse tomorrow. I just—” He paused. “I want to tell you everything.”
Elodie tugged the window down. “I’ll think about it. Now, go.”
Aiden slipped into the falling dark. Elodie noiselessly slid the window shut and hastily arranged her line of rocks on the sill until they looked perfect.
XXXVIII
Elodie sat on the sand-covered street, folding her legs up under her as she waited for Astrid at the base of her best friend’s favorite building—the building Astrid had thrown herself off countless times, her webbed bodysuit threading from her arms to her legs like a human parachute. Loose strands of hair blew in front of Elodie’s eyes and she pushed them back and squinted up at the glittering silver building. Its spire pierced the cloudless morning sky like the point of a needle through silk.
Astrid tested the limits with everything. Almost everything. When it came to the Key and its rules, there was no pushing for this rule-following Fujimoto. She was as rigid as the paved street beneath Elodie’s feet, the same street she’d watched Astrid splat against as she tested the limits of her custom-coded suit.
Elodie couldn’t help but wonder if sometimes Astrid hurled herself off the roof just for the sake of hitting the pavement, just to feel that second of nothingness between VR and real life. The cessation of breath before the next inhale.
The first time it had happened—the first time Astrid had died in VR—Elodie had almost puked. Astrid’s body slammed into the replica Dubai street and dissolved into a pixelated mass of colors before sinking into the ground and disappearing completely. At least VR didn’t leave a lot of corpses lying around.
Booted from the sim, Astrid had been back in Elodie’s earpiece a moment later. “Did you see that?! What. A. Rush!”
Elodie had fallen to her knees. The blacktop sliced off a few centimeters of her bare kneecaps as the glitchy program struggled to interpret her sudden movement. “I thought you were dead!”
Astrid had scoffed. “You can’t die in VR, El. It’s not real.” Even now, Elo
die could practically hear her friend roll her eyes. “Wait right where you are. I’m logging back in and doing it again.”
But this morning, Elodie would have done anything to know she was meeting Astrid here to talk like they used to. She’d do anything to have another chance at mustering the courage to jump from the high point of the building, following her best friend up, just to succumb to nerves at the last minute and ride the smooth elevator back down to the ground.
Everything was supposed to change when she married Rhett. Not now. Not like this. Why couldn’t she live her life, experiment with it, have fun with it, without it all falling to pieces? Her life was hers. Wasn’t it?
Navy and green-checkered shoes shuffled noiselessly into Elodie’s periphery, tearing her from her memories. Astrid’s avatar looked haggard, tired, like the stress from last night had seeped through and infected this fake world.
Elodie’s ankle started to ache and she unfolded and refolded her legs beneath her. She stiffened. Her ankle ached. Since the update, she’d only been in VR to fulfill her nursing assignments. Within those programs, it was normal to feel temperatures and textures. Those aspects were programmed into all simulations. It’s what made the virtual feel more real. But pain was different. Pain was new.
Astrid cleared her throat and scraped the toe of her shoe against the pavement. “Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been here together.” She let out a weary sigh as she adjusted her toolbelt, another custom VR accessory covered in small silver boxes, and tucked her legs underneath her to join Elodie on the sand dusted blacktop.
Elodie brushed sparkling granules from her leggings, blinking frantically as the breeze picked up the sand and tossed it back against her lashes. “There’s more sand than there used to be.”
Astrid let out a dry chuckle. “It’s always been the same. You’re just used to watching me.” She pointed at the blanket of blue above. “You’re used to looking up.”
“Change in perspective, I guess.” Elodie felt the words so deep her chest ached.
