Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  “That’s why you’re here,” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  He looked down the hall. First one way, then the other. After a moment’s hesitation, he spoke again. “Legacy, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think Director Virgil knows what you’re doing. Or at least he suspects. He’s having you watched.”

  I glanced at the camera at the next corner. “He’s watching everyone.”

  “No, I mean he’s tracking your implant. He’s watching your activities, your location, who you speak with. Your very presence here is a threat to him.”

  I stared at him, this boy I barely knew who pretended to care so convincingly that I felt safe with him. “And you know all this because of the thing you can’t say?”

  He flinched and turned away. “Sorry.”

  I stepped forward, closing the distance between the Firebrand and myself. He didn’t move. He just waited, his eyes searching my face for any hint of my intentions.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked softly.

  He met my gaze with a steady one of his own. “Because I wish our families weren’t enemies. Because I know who you are, and it’s not who they see. Because you’re more than just a Hawking.”

  There were mere centimeters between us now, warm and crackling, like a lit match. It was like we’d taken to the track once more—stride for stride, neither engaging nor admitting defeat.

  The moment stretched into an eternity and back again. He dared to exhale. I felt the warmth of it on my face.

  I didn’t know what he was, but I wanted to. That scared me more than anything.

  Folding my arms across my chest, I took two steps back. “I need to get going.”

  Disappointment flooded his expression, but he hid it immediately. “Of course. After what you just went through . . . I’m an idiot for keeping you here.”

  “Stay. I’ll be fine.” I started to walk away, then turned back. “When people look at me, they see a role, not a person. I can’t be used again. I won’t.”

  He shrugged. “I get it. Better than you think.”

  I didn’t let myself ponder what that meant. I just left him standing there, my head dizzy from the earlier adrenaline rush followed by . . . whatever had just happened.

  Kole followed me back at a respectful distance. When I was safely in my room, I placed my back against the door and leaned my head against it, listening. No sound.

  His footsteps finally retreated an hour later.

  Eighteen

  Legacy

  A hand shook my shoulder. “Hey, roomie.” Another shake. “Legacy.”

  I smacked the hand off and rolled away before prying my eyes open. The bedroom was bright with new light, my roommate was fully dressed, and the scent of shampoo mingled with steam-filled the air.

  Morning.

  Millian walked to the dresser. “You fell asleep sitting up, facing the door. Judging by the barricade of pillows and blankets around you, something’s up. You don’t usually sleep through the alarm, either. Here. Food fixes everything.” She handed me a heaping tray of breakfast foods. Like, every single one. Three kinds of biscuits, pancakes in two styles, a pile of fruit, and a big chunk of meat next to a boiled egg. “Wasn’t sure what you like. The ‘meat’ is actually pretty decent today. Must have fired the old cook or something.”

  As she pulled back her arm, I caught sight of those angry gashes in her wrist again. She followed my gaze and pulled her sleeve down, her cheeks reddening.

  “Thank you,” I said softly. There was enough food here for three people, but my stomach grumbled its approval. Her thoughtfulness reminded me of my mom all over again.

  “See, now you’re getting all misty and thanking me for things. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” She plopped herself down on her bed and folded her legs.

  I distantly remembered my resolution to tell Millian everything last night, but it felt like a lifetime ago. That Legacy felt like a different girl altogether.

  They may paint you as a good little girl, but we both know better.

  Derik’s work. Lars wasn’t the only guy who’d seen that awful interview about our relationship. He was just the first to feel entitled enough to act on Derik’s horrible accusations.

  “Wow. This must be really bad. You’re never at a loss for words.” Millian leaned forward. “Does this have anything to do with that guy who got arrested last night?”

  “Arrested?”

  “Yep. A group of enforcers raided the cafeteria at dinner. Remember Kole from school? They questioned him, but it was his roommate they arrested. The creepy guy from the party. Kole looked really angry. He wasn’t at breakfast this morning.”

  I bit into a piece of the fake breakfast meat. Millian was right—it wasn’t bad. “Kole wasn’t upset that his roommate got arrested. He was upset because of what Lars did. Or tried to do.” Kole must have filed his report anyway while I huddled under my blankets last night. I should have been irritated that he hadn’t listened, but I didn’t mind so much today.

  Millian’s face drained of color. “Fates. Lars didn’t . . .”

  “He tried. I fought him off. I ran into Kole afterward, and he escorted me back.” My stomach churned at the memory. As good as the meat smelled, I moved on to the fruit.

  “Fates!” She launched herself off the bed and threw her arms around me. When she pulled away, her face was purple. “Good thing they hauled him off before I could strangle him ’cause I really want to right now. To think I was running in circles on the track last night, trying to keep my spot in the standings and completely oblivious.”

  “This wasn’t your fault. Lars gets all the blame.”

  She nodded her head vigorously. “Definitely. Here’s the deal, then. Neither of us wanders the halls alone. If one of us leaves, so does the other.”

  “I don’t need protection. I came here to escape all of that.”

  A glint appeared in her eye. “Oh? Silly me. I thought it was to uncover the mystery of your mom’s death.”

  I froze with a grape halfway raised to my mouth. It dropped to the plate before I could catch it. “What?”

  She beamed, looking victorious. “I knew it. You don’t like science, and I don’t think you’re the type to come just to get away from your dad. You keep wandering around alone like you’re looking for something. It doesn’t take a top neuroscientist to put all the pieces together, you know.” A chuckle. “But then, since that’s what I am . . .”

  For the first time since last night’s events, I smiled. It felt really good. “Should’ve known better than to try and fool you.”

  “Seriously. Scientists see everything.” She gave me a stern look. “But really, whatever you feel like sharing stays between us. Maybe I can help with my genius brain and all.”

  My smile faded. “I should have involved you from the start. I just kept thinking about Derik, my ex, and it scared me off. He actually told me something similar once.”

  “No,” she said in mock horror. “He has a genius brain too?”

  I chuckled.

  She sobered, tucking her legs beneath her. “Sorry. I have issues. Tell me about him.”

  I did. Derik was the perfect friend from a perfect family, some high-society friends of my dad’s. He’d had a high-paying job lined up for him after graduation. He’d been everything I wanted and everything the gossip broadcasts deemed acceptable for an heiress. We spent every spare moment of several weeks together. It felt so good to finally be myself with someone, to talk about things I couldn’t discuss with Mom or the rest of my family. It was a relief to remove the heavy armor I’d carried around my entire life and set it aside for a while, trusting another person completely.

  Then I’d woken one morning to find a capture of my face on an exclusive broadcasting station. My boyfriend sat next to an announcer, dumping my dreams and fears upon a hungry public for a few thousand credits and an hour of fame.

  When he ran out of the true stuff, the lies beg
an.

  As I talked, one thing became clear. I’d been right to reject Kole. Derik had managed to slip through a tiny crack in my heart before slashing it to bloody ribbons. How much worse could a secretive Firebrand do? He’d already admitted that he couldn’t answer my questions. His group clearly came first. I wasn’t even a distant second. I’d been a fool to let the slightest hint of a crack appear in my armor yesterday.

  And, yet, instead of taking advantage of my vulnerability, he’d stood watch by my door and had Lars arrested. Surely that meant something.

  When I finished, Millian looked stunned. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  She sat back. “No, I’m serious. What kind of boyfriend gets you to trust him, then turns around and sells lies about you to the press?”

  “A really bad one.” Kole was a Firebrand, and I knew deep down that even he wouldn’t do that.

  You’re more than a Hawking.

  “So,” I began, more than ready to change the subject. “I just vomited my soul on you. If you ever want to talk about those scars on your arm, I’m here.”

  Millian quickly pulled her sleeve down, blushing once again. “Um, maybe another time. Not that I don’t trust you. I know I need to quit, and I will. It’s just that this . . . habit . . . helped me get through some tough times at home. It might take a while.”

  “If it helps, I’m here to listen anytime. Seriously.”

  “Thanks.” She gave me an uncharacteristically shy smile. “What are you going to do now? I mean, you really should take the day off. Light schedule again. Some lecture about lab safety and then the standings announcement tonight. Go into town and visit your family or maybe go back to bed. I’ll tell everyone you’re sick.”

  Climbing back into bed sounded really nice. But sometime during the past twenty minutes, the fire in my chest had ignited again.

  I set the tray aside and stood, heading for the full-sized mirror at the end of the room. It showed a disheveled version of me in all my yesterday’s-clothes-and-bedhead glory. There was fear in that Legacy’s eyes as she peered back at me. Fear, mistrust, and helplessness. A pampered girl who’d tasted real life and recoiled from it rather than attacking it head-on. Someone who hid from her problems, burying herself in misery.

  Dad had chosen that route. I knew exactly where that led.

  “I need a run to clear my head,” I told her and retrieved a clean shirt from the drawer.

  “You’re going out?” Millian asked incredulously. “Now?”

  “Now. Come or stay, whatever you want. Running helps me focus.” Kole believed Virgil knew my purpose here. If so, Virgil had to know I suspected him. I intended to pick apart his lies one at a time until I saw where he fit in all this.

  Millian made a face. “I ran yesterday and the day before. I’m good for the next year. But we agreed to stick together out there, so I’ll come anyway. I have a few hacks I use to dig into the IM-NET storage servers. Maybe they have some hidden files about your mom’s accident—er, whatever it was.”

  “Murder. I’m certain of it.” I’d never voiced it aloud before. The fire inside me flared at the words until heat pumped through my veins. “Okay, let’s go.”

  A couple chatted while lifting weights in the alcove, barely noticing Millian approaching a distant bench. Squat windows lit sections of the track like beacons that beckoned me onward.

  I quickly stretched, then set my pace at a slow jog. It felt so good to move like this. I’d spent most of yesterday in a tight, curled-up position on my bed, the nightmarish events of the morning on replay in my head. Home or here, there would be people ready to use me. Virgil and Lars had already made that clear.

  Kole obviously had connections to the lab’s security. That meant the Firebrands were working with Virgil. How could a lab director possibly help an activist group take over the government? Did it have anything to do with this update announcement tomorrow? Was he slipping something illegal into the software? Something told me that Kole wouldn’t be a part of that if he knew. Though with Firebrands, it was impossible to tell for sure.

  I passed the spot where Kole had cheated to win our little running contest and let myself smile.

  “Legacy!”

  I pulled up short, my momentum nearly taking me into the wall nearest the weights alcove. Millian stood there, lowering her cupped hands from her mouth.

  “I’ve been calling you for two minutes. Fates. That must have been an intense broadcast.”

  I never watched shows while I ran, but I also couldn’t explain where my thoughts had been, so I let it pass. “What?”

  “I found an interview with your mom in the history archives. Have you seen it?”

  “I’m not sure.” I’d seen plenty of her public interviews, but they were all the same—Director Virgil announcing some award she’d won and attributing it to the “high quality” of his employees. They didn’t exactly have options when it came to neurotechnology. Virgil’s lab had beaten out every one of his competitors.

  “IM-NET 4416 dated CC52. She comes in at the 5:51 mark.”

  I stumbled to a bench and sat down before pulling up the broadcast, my legs shaking more than they should as I conducted a quick search.

  It took a few minutes of scrolling before I found it. Virgil wasn’t present this time. I wondered whether he even knew about it.

  Mom took up the entire length of the screen. The suddenness of her face sent a jolt down my system. It was perhaps four years ago, before she’d grown her dark hair down her back. It hung in soft waves around her face, contrasting her prominent dimpled chin. Her blue Neuromen uniform boasted a gold patch with “Research Head” in bold lettering.

  “ . . . wouldn’t say it’s all that confusing,” she said and then chuckled. “People have an inherent fascination with machines. In the beginning, we asked if machines could do the same things we could. Then we asked if machines could do the things we couldn’t do. Now that we’ve unharnessed the incredible potential of technology, the question is whether we can merge both elements into something greater than the sum of their parts. I believe the answer is yes.”

  I felt a different pain now. The combining of human and machine—the singularity, as Mom called it—was a favorite dinnertime discussion of hers. We smiled and asked questions, but ultimately, I’d always assumed it to be a scientist’s fantasy.

  This was her project. I knew it down to the aching muscles in my legs protesting my sudden immobility. While Virgil focused on implants that connected us, Mom had spent over a decade working on implants that enhanced us. She’d hinted at it around the dinner table a hundred times. How had I missed it?

  The off-screen interviewer spoke up. “You say it’s possible to combine the two. How exactly would that work?”

  “Brain implant tech, or neurotechnology, is the foundation. We’ve harnessed the inner workings of the human brain. This part is far more technical than most realize. It involves a complex understanding of the brain’s vision and hearing centers as well as modified electrical components. If you take a step back and really look at how the body is built, it’s almost mathematic in its origin.” Mom flushed. “Pardon me. This is the point where my family would ask me to speak English. Let me try again.”

  The interviewer laughed. “I’m with you, but please continue however you’d like.”

  “Let’s just say technology and the human body were never opposites. They can enhance one another. We discovered this with our recent exploration into sports, as you’ll recall.”

  I remembered the scandal from a few years back. An athlete had discovered that rewiring his implant made his khel reaction time faster. He’d been disqualified, but the discovery had created a huge rush for the technology on the black market.

  “There are other unexpected benefits. Hormone alteration, boosting the immune system, the eradication of cancer, and even solving reproductive issues. We’ve repaired many of the human body’s failings with neurotech.”

  “All incredible
breakthroughs,” the interviewer said. “But what you’re working on takes it a step further.”

  “It does.”

  “Can you elaborate on how?”

  Mom straightened and smiled at the camera. “Absolutely. I’ve discovered the ultimate use for neurotech. It’s far more important and even more promising than the medical advancements we’ve seen over the past two decades.”

  “Which is?”

  Her smile turned into a smirk. “I’m afraid I can’t elaborate yet. I hope to announce it very soon.”

  “Now you’re teasing us, Dr. Hawking,” the interviewer said, but I detected an element of flirtation in his tone. He was only feigning irritation.

  “It’s unfortunate I can’t outline everything I’ve found so far, that’s true. But the problem is that young scientists are emulating and experimenting with implant technology, and I don’t want to give them ideas that could end up harming them or others. In the wrong hands, this breakthrough could be dangerous. In the right hands, it can change the world.”

  “Do you consider yourself the right hands, Dr. Hawking?”

  “I certainly hope so. Otherwise, I don’t deserve to have this knowledge.”

  “We look forward to your next announcement, then. Thanks for joining us today.”

  I closed the broadcast and stared at nothing for a moment. The wrong hands. Something deep inside told me Mom’s hands were the right ones . . . and Director Virgil’s were the wrong ones. Yet she was dead and he was about to announce a new implant update, something revolutionary. Was he about to release Mom’s experiment into the world and take credit?

  Had he killed her for it?

  “You look like you’re going to beat someone up,” Millian said, sitting on the bench beside me. “I’ll make a few suggestions on victims if you want, but please don’t hurt me.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to joke. The man who’d described Mom’s death to my family, fighting tears, had been the very one to take her from us. Having a head researcher develop a powerful new update as her job required was too much of a threat for him. Hadn’t he tried to take credit for the invention of brain implants in the first place? Gram kept insisting they’d been used in Europe long before she’d become the leader of NORA. I’d ignored that too.