Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  “Wait. I thought you were doing the actual changing.”

  “The technician will show you how to create your record. It won’t be hard for an emerging neurotechnician like you. Much faster than you leaning over my shoulder, and that way we won’t miss anything.”

  “Create?”

  “You don’t actually change your record. That would trigger an alarm. You simply create a second record and merge it with yours. The system creates accidental duplicates all the time, so it allows for that without detection.”

  A new fear gripped me. I halted, pulling her to a stop. “Hold on. I’m paying you to take the risk for me. If I get caught, I’ll be arrested.”

  Her eyes were laughing now. “Don’t worry, nobody will notice you. I bring male guests through there all the time.”

  I didn’t want to know what kind of “guests” those were. Yesterday’s determination was little more than a trickle now. I hadn’t anticipated the risks nor the feeling of finality now taking hold. Creating a new identity for myself meant part of me would cease to exist. The part that knew Mom and had a family, a childhood.

  I’m doing this for Mom, I reminded myself.

  Except it wasn’t quite true. Deep down, I knew there was a selfish element to my actions today. A fresh start meant it would be even easier to hide my secret. Few would make the connection between me and my father, and if they chose to expose me, there would be no evidence.

  If there were ever a reason to sever myself from my past, that was it.

  Zenye watched me expectantly.

  I nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Sixteen

  Kole

  They couldn’t put the relay station near the front desk. That would be too easy. Instead, they’d placed it at the far corner of the top floor. That could be to minimize interference and allow easy access to the station’s equipment on the roof, or it could be simply to dissuade unwelcome visitors. Either way, it took a full ten minutes of brisk walking to get there. I’d been wrong about the snowflake thing. This wing was far larger than the others.

  The clerk at a huge glass desk glared at Zenye. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Zenye placed her head against my arm. “Bringing a guy to see my office. This one’s a top three.”

  Her office?

  I stared at her in confusion, but the clerk just rolled his eyes and waved us on.

  She practically yanked me down the main hallway before stopping at an extra-wide metal door. Four sharp knocks later, she finally released me and waited, tapping her foot.

  An old man opened the door and scowled at us. “What?”

  Zenye was all sugar again. “Aw, Ben. Do you have to be so stereotypical all the time?”

  He ignored her comment. “Another one?”

  “Yep. You good for it?”

  “I s’pose. Not too busy today.”

  She placed a hand on my back and shoved me inside. “Good. I’ll be back to pick him up in nine minutes.”

  I glared at her back as she sauntered off. Twenty-five thousand credits, and I was doing all the work.

  Ben closed the door behind me. “Thinks she owns the place, that girl. Let’s see what you have to hide.” He strode to a messy desk below a clear window that overlooked the bay. Then he began swiping at the inlaid glass.

  “The guard didn’t question her at all,” I said, puzzled by his comment. “How is that possible?”

  “Virgil lets her go where she wants. So you’re Dane’s nephew. Not an affiliation I’d brag about either.” Ben shoved his chair back to make room for my approach. I stared at the screen, fascinated to see how much information they had on me. All my previous messages, images, schoolwork, location points. My family records went back a full four generations since the original NORA.

  The Filter icon wasn’t lit. Good. Assuming I didn’t blow my cover in the next eight minutes, whatever intel I discovered here could be sent to “Ned” without worry of interception.

  Ben hit a few buttons, and a blank profile page came up next to the first. The two files would be combined, but it was still disconcerting to see it so empty. Then he stood, motioning for me to take his seat. “Have at it.”

  It seemed too easy. “You sure nobody will know?”

  “Just you, me, and Zenye. Our loyalty is to credits, not the law. Politicians use this loophole all the time. But be reasonable in how you fill those fields. Make yourself sound too perfect or too strange, and someone will get suspicious.”

  “Fair enough.” My voice was calm, but a storm brewed inside me. Politicians changed their records? If Uncle Dane knew such a thing was possible, he’d immediately look for evidence that Hawking was doing exactly that. This could destroy the man’s career.

  And Legacy’s livelihood in the process.

  It shouldn’t have bothered me. It never had before. Yet I felt guilty considering such a thing, and guiltier that I felt bad about it. If Hawking was acting illegally, didn’t the country deserve to know? What right did I have to deprive the nation of a prosperous future because of one girl who could barely stand to look at me?

  The first thing I did was create a new father. I made him exactly what he should have been—attentive, kind, a good provider. There was nothing in this new record about arrests, prison terms, beatings, or implant-hacking charges. Most importantly, there was no record of his suspicious death or any suspects. That was exactly the way I wanted it.

  Replacing Mom’s name was harder. I created a variation on her name and pulled a random profile capture out of a miscellaneous file I’d created last night.

  “Do you happen to know anything about the new update?” I asked casually as I worked. Ben continued to look over my shoulder, watching every stroke of my fingers on the glass.

  “If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Virgil would have my head. He’s terrified the word will get out, you know.”

  Odd. A relay technician with no regard for the law but scared of Virgil. “Must be one heck of an update, then. New features?”

  “I’m sure that’ll be the least of it. Assuming Hawking doesn’t have his way and shut us down first. If it weren’t for that cabinet of his, we’d all be out of a job. His own daughter, even.”

  Something told me Legacy wouldn’t be as brokenhearted about that as people assumed. Not that I cared. “You could transfer to a different relay station. Your skills will always be in demand.”

  “Not after this update. The government will flood the centers with their own workers and toss us out on our backsides.” He turned in a huff and crossed the room.

  Government workers? That didn’t make much sense. Maybe Uncle Dane could make something of it. I jotted a quick note in my implant files and looked over my shoulder. Ben faced the window, his arm lifted and head tilted back as if he were drinking something. My babysitter was finally distracted.

  I finished my work, launched the combine feature, and read through the record. Nothing of any concern here. Perfect.

  Then I pulled up my mother’s file.

  Her prognosis was still “uncertain.” At least she wasn’t doing any worse. Thinking quickly, I pulled up a new record and cleared her ties to Dad and me. Then I removed her employee information and listed her as “unassigned.” I was stuck here, but now she would be eligible to be hired elsewhere. Now I just had to get her transferred closer to me so I could protect her.

  I paused, then called up Legacy’s file, her face filling the screen. She wasn’t smiling, but there was an amused light to her eyes that made her look mischievous. The braid wrapped around her loose hair softened the expression.

  Ben would return any second, and I’d been staring too long. I scanned through her records. Parents’ names; twin brother, Alex; school records; hobbies. Her information was far more detailed than mine. The record keepers kept a close eye on her.

  I scanned the data, feeling guilty all the while. A hospital visit when she was eight. Bi-monthly psychological treatments beginning at age thirteen. An interns
hip offer at her father’s office two years ago, which she’d declined. No answers to the question of why she was here.

  Buried on a third page was her implant information. It contained her public files. Private files existed by name, but they were blocked off just like everyone else’s. At least she had that.

  In the bottom corner lay a red icon I hadn’t seen before, shaped like a star. Curious, I tapped it.

  A security feed pulled up. It showed Legacy walking down a white hallway alone. When she turned a corner, the view immediately switched to show her from a different angle. An auto-tracking system. A tiny digital clock in the corner showed the current time. Strange. My record hadn’t offered that option. Virgil had a special interest in keeping Legacy safe, then. Or was it something more?

  I was about to exit the page when I stopped short. A figure watched her from around the corner. The moment she turned, the man followed.

  I swore.

  A fist slammed on the monitor, shutting it down. Then Ben slowly turned his head to face me. “That isn’t your record, son.”

  “Sorry. I finished early, so I checked on a friend.”

  Inside, I felt an edge of panic. I knew exactly who that figure was. Worse, I knew what he intended to do.

  “Get out.” Ben grabbed the back of the chair and practically pulled it out from under me.

  I didn’t argue. The hallway was still empty when I stumbled outside. I didn’t wait for Zenye. I just plunged down the hall at a half run, sending a wave to the clerk at the desk. I didn’t slow to see whether he noticed.

  Then I sprinted for the lab wing.

  Seventeen

  Legacy

  I paused in the hallway and listened, every muscle taut. The footsteps had stopped, yet I knew better than to ignore my instincts. And every instinct I possessed screamed that something was very wrong.

  A large, sweaty hand covered my mouth and yanked me backward.

  I growled and wrenched my head around, trying to free myself, but my attacker used the momentum to slam me against the wall, knocking the wind from my lungs.

  A desperate gasp escaped my throat as hands closed over my shoulders and shoved me hard again. Creepy Boy from the party. He’d followed me somehow.

  Then his mouth covered mine—hard.

  I was too much in shock to respond. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Not now, when I was utterly and completely alone.

  I lifted my knee to strike his groin, but he stepped in closer, crushing me under his weight. So heavy.

  Hundreds of personal training hours, and here I was, pinned between a wall and a man who refused to ask, much less take no for an answer.

  Wrenching my head to one side, I managed to break contact and pull one shoulder free. It was enough to shove him back a few centimeters.

  I gasped, sucking in precious air as he grinned. “They may paint you as a good little girl, but we both know better.”

  I wanted to spit in his face, but that would involve gathering saliva, which seemed a repulsive act at the moment, the taste of him still overwhelming my mouth. Instead, I lifted my hands between us and slipped into fighting stance. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

  He took another step forward. “You resent Daddy. I can tell. Your brother falls in line, but you don’t, do you? All the rules and guards and the press following you around. I can help you escape all of it.” He reached for my head.

  I batted his hand away and threw a wild punch. He ducked it easily and grinned wider. Then he was on me again, his foul breath on my face, mouth searching for mine.

  I growled and threw all my strength into freeing myself, but he grabbed my throat and slammed my head against the wall. Darkness and glittery stars exploded into my vision, obscuring the implant time. My legs would have buckled altogether had he not held me up with his weight.

  He whispered against my lips. “That’s better.”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t wake up tomorrow,” I hissed, still fighting the stars flying across my vision. I freed an elbow and sent it sailing toward his head, but he released my face and caught it before it connected. Then he wrenched my arm, making me gasp.

  I was done. I lifted my foot and slammed it down onto his shoe. He flinched as I sailed my knee into his manly parts.

  He grunted and bent over, stiff as a statue. Finally.

  As I broke free and sprinted down the hallway, I heard a fist slam into the wall behind me, followed by another grunt and the sound of hopping.

  I took the turn at a sprint, hitting the opposite wall with my shoulder. My breath came out in a series of gasps and bursts, and I spat out the taste of that horrible man again and again. My room was only a few turns away, wasn’t it? But he would expect me to go there and find me . . . fates. My desperate attempt to put space behind me had muddled my head. Think.

  My legs struggled to hold me, and I found myself tripping. I landed in a heap at the next turn and struggled to my shaky feet once again. Straightening my shirt, I fought a surge of nausea. Angry tears collected beneath my eyelids. I wanted to take a boiling-hot shower and down a giant bottle of mouthwash.

  It wasn’t safe here. I had to keep going.

  Several more turns. Where was the women’s corridor again?

  “Legacy!”

  I jumped before realizing it was Kole, not Creepy Guy. Allowing myself to slow down, I kept my face turned away. “What?”

  He ducked to meet my gaze. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his eyes wide with concern. He was breathing nearly as hard as I was. “Legacy. Please tell me you’re okay.”

  No. I wasn’t okay, nor would I be anytime soon. My panic-riddled brain tried to form the words, but nothing escaped my lips. Instead, I threw myself into his arms.

  He stiffened for only a fraction of a second before tightening the embrace, one hand stroking my hair. I trembled against his body, taking in the light perspiration and soap scent of his shirt. I hadn’t been held like this in so long.

  Derik came to mind, then faded away into nothingness.

  Finally, my brain caught up with me, and it registered that Kole wasn’t asking the questions I expected. I pulled away and gathered my composure around me like a blanket. “You knew.”

  His jaw tightened, his expression stony in a way I’d never seen. Now that was the face of a Firebrand. Yet it warmed me in a way I couldn’t explain. His hands curled into slow, tight fists. “I saw Lars following you. He has this obsession—I’ve already tried talking to him, but it obviously wasn’t enough. Next time I see him, I’ll rip his bloody head from his body.”

  I wanted nothing more, but I had to remember who Kole was. I put that internal wall up once again. “Actually, I plan to do that myself. But I’ll save you an arm if you like.”

  “Brutal. I like that.” He lifted a hand to my shoulder, hesitated, and dropped it again. “Are you really okay? Maybe we should take you to the nurse.”

  “No. I mean, yes, I’m okay. I fought him off before he . . .” The next words were unthinkable. Those types of things happened to women in the Shadows, not heiresses at science labs.

  It shouldn’t happen to anyone, I stubbornly told myself. No woman deserved to be treated like that, whether from the Shadows or anywhere else.

  I half expected another lecture from Kole about wandering off alone, but he placed himself at my side. “Then I’m walking you to your room. I’m telling Director Virgil about this, and I won’t sleep until Lars is behind bars.”

  I wanted to laugh. A Firebrand sworn to protect me. Dad would have me committed if he could hear my thoughts right now. “Thanks, but I’ll file the report myself.” I’d include enough details to have Creepy Guy—Lars—removed, but not enough to imply that I couldn’t defend myself. I wasn’t done here yet, and I certainly didn’t need any guards following me around.

  We fell in step as we moved toward a smaller hallway to the left, one I now recognized. In my panic, I’d chosen the wrong route. My shaking had stopped, but a new chill ran through my
body at the memory of Kole’s face when he called my name. It wasn’t the expression of a guy who’d just enjoyed a thorough make-out session with his girlfriend. It was the desperation of someone who really and truly cared.

  “Have fun with Zenye?” I asked casually.

  He groaned. “She came on to me, I swear. Zenye isn’t my type at all.”

  “You didn’t seem too shaken up about it.”

  “Then you didn’t stick around for the finale. If she were a guy, she’d have a purple eye right now.”

  I shouldn’t have believed him, but there was authenticity in everything about him—his voice, the way he moved, his sharp gaze when it fell upon me. It made my breath catch a little. “Because you’re the type who kisses girls, not the other way around.”

  He snickered. “You twist everything I say against me. Must be a hidden talent.”

  “Not so hidden. I have preconceived notions about all Firebrands, so it isn’t just you.” I cocked my head. “You mean to tell me what really happened?”

  His shoulders went stiff. “What do you mean?”

  “If you’d really seen Lars following me, you would have followed a minute or two behind. Instead, you came puffing up like you’ve run across the entire lab.”

  He tore his gaze away. “I can’t explain that.”

  “Do you know about the graffiti warning in the garden on the first day? Or the smear of blood?”

  Kole looked confused. “Blood?”

  He didn’t know. Disappointment nearly shut my mouth for good, but I suddenly felt a need for him to understand. “Clues in my investigation. I visited my mom’s lab before Lars found me, looking for evidence as to what really happened the day she died.”

  Kole paused and turned to face me, looking thoughtful. His uniform made his eyes more of a dark blue than the gray I’d noticed earlier. Almost the opposite of Derik’s.