Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  Rising quickly, I pushed aside the pain and went to work on the other side. A minute later, it came free. I was now the proud owner of a heavy hospital chair.

  I hurried to Mom’s bedside, pulling the chair along behind me. She looked so peaceful. If only we could talk without it risking her life. They said the machine could sustain her for up to three years while science created a cure for the disease. I just had to buy us more time.

  Shoving the brake up on the wheels beneath her bed, I gave it an experimental shove. Not too bad. The machine, however, needed to be switched to its battery before I moved it anywhere. Then I had to bribe a medic to help push the—

  “Nice chair,” Dane said from the doorway.

  I gritted my teeth and turned slowly toward him. “Let’s cut the dramatics and discuss this.”

  “There’s been enough talk. It’s time for showing. I wanted you to see what happens when a Firebrand shuns his oath.”

  I placed myself between him and my mother, my heart seizing in a way I hadn’t experienced since my childhood beatings. “Then show me. Leave an innocent woman out of it.”

  Dane stepped inside, allowing me to see that he wasn’t alone. Zenye’s two grunts moved to take Dane’s place in the doorway, then turned to face the hall. I was trapped.

  “You make this so easy,” Dane said, his gaze flicking to Mom. I stepped sideways to block his view. “Anyone else would have realized their mother was dying anyway, but you cling to her like a good little son.”

  “She isn’t dying. They’re looking for a cure.”

  “She was always going to die. No DNR-6 patient has ever survived. Your hope is admirable, but if you look closer, you’ll see it was all in vain. The coma is simply another ploy by the medics to take an honest worker’s money.” He stopped his advance, standing right next to me now.

  I refused to accept his words. But the longer I looked at Mom, the more I saw. Her blue-tinged lips and fingernails. The darkness surrounding her closed eyes. Her white skin, drained of its usual life, her barely moving chest. None of that had been there last week.

  Dane turned away in disgust. “Guards, secure him. Do a better job this time.”

  I stiffened, but there was nowhere to retreat as the two advanced. This time, I was ready when they reached me. I swung, connecting with a face while the second dove in. His arm reached around my shoulders to hold me back. I slipped my foot behind his and let him fall. He landed with a grunt, his shoulder narrowly missing the cords connecting Mom’s machine to its power box in the wall. Too close.

  It distracted me long enough for the other to land a punch at my already-sore solar plexus. I cried out as the pain nearly buckled my knees. Within seconds, they’d dragged me from Mom’s bed back to the corner again, one hand on each shoulder. I tried to wrench away and got an elbow to the temple for my trouble.

  “I hope that girl was worth it,” Dane said, bending over to disconnect the cord.

  “Don’t!” I cried.

  “Too late.” He lifted the plug for me to see, dangling between his fingers, and tossed it aside. A high-pitched shriek sounded from the machine. All four screens read EMERGENCY. “I should have done that long ago. Maybe you would have been less distracted. Then again, maybe not.”

  Pain drilled a rhythmic hole in my chest where my heart should be. Not like this. “Please.”

  He stalked toward me, his expression murderous. “Now my brother’s son begs. Tell me. Did you stop when my brother begged for mercy?”

  Now my heart threatened to stop altogether. The room lurched to the side, and I struggled to steady myself. “What?”

  “Don’t play stupid. I’m asking if you gave my brother any mercy before you killed him.”

  I glanced at Mom, trying to make sense of all this. “I—I didn’t—”

  The blow came so hard I felt my neck snap. The floor leaped toward me, but the guards at either side managed to right me before I met it. Pain like I’d never experienced ignited in my face.

  Dane wasn’t drunk today. That made him infinitely more dangerous.

  “Virgil has street footage of you dragging your father’s body down the street that night,” he said, his face contorted in rage. “You left him by a dumpster for children to find. Didn’t even have the courage to dispose of him yourself.”

  My tone was stronger than expected. “I’d do it again if it meant protecting Mom.”

  Dane’s eyes narrowed sharply. He clasped and unclasped his fists, looking deadly calm. I knew that look well. It was the same expression Dad had worn when he thought Mom needed to be taught her place. The look of a murder about to happen.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

  Hands tightened on my shoulders.

  My breath caught.

  A realization made me straighten slowly. Even if I died today, my uncle’s anger still lay upon me and not Mom. There was still a chance some frantic medic would hear the machine’s alarm and plug her back in. Still a chance they were wrong about her pulling out of the coma too fast.

  Still a chance . . .

  His jaw flexed, then he turned to Mom.

  I felt my eyes go round. No. I tried to lunge, but the guards yanked me back.

  My uncle plunged the blade deep into Mom’s chest.

  A cry tore from my soul. “No!”

  Mom’s entire body rocked. She sucked in a quick breath, her eyes flying open in shock. She searched the room as her torso convulsed, struggling for oxygen that would not be found. Her panicked gaze found mine.

  Then the panic faded. All that remained was a strange peace. Her eyes flicked to my guards and then my uncle’s face before returning to mine again. There was understanding there. She knew I was trying to break free of my father’s shadow.

  She approved.

  Then the breath escaped her lips in a long, quiet sigh.

  I grunted and threw myself against the guards’ hold. Voices from the hallway blended with my uncle’s next words, making little sense in the thickness of the moment. All I could see and hear was the stillness of my mother’s body and those forever lifeless eyes.

  Dane must have ordered me released because there was a tugging sensation at my wrist and then a shove from behind. I stumbled toward Mom. No matter how I blinked the warmth of my swimming eyes away, the blade remained lodged in her stilled chest. A presence moved to my side.

  “My brother for your dear mommy,” Dane said. He slapped my shoulder with one firm hand. “I’d kill you too, but Virgil has something special planned for you. Apparently it’s difficult to find good research subjects these days.” He nodded to the guards, who’d resumed their places by the door, and headed for the door.

  “Where’s Legacy?” I asked, my voice flat and lifeless.

  He paused in the doorway, his massive shoulders taut. He didn’t turn around to look me in the eye. “She’ll be handled very soon. I hope they find you a decent dumpster, nephew. You have five minutes to say goodbye.” Then he was gone.

  His taunt slid right off me. I stared at my mother in silence, my heart full of apologies that she would never hear.

  I tucked Mom’s hands next to her body and smoothed her hair before yanking the cursed blade out and tossing it into the sink. The very act made my stomach lurch. Then I pulled the sheet over her head, tucked it around her still form, and stepped back.

  I’d managed to protect her from one brother but not the other. In trying to save both Mom and Legacy, I’d managed to lose both. I was neither Firebrand nor free, ally nor enemy.

  Only the fates knew what I was anymore.

  Maybe that was the only light in all this darkness. Now I had the power to decide, guards or no guards. As I considered my options, everything unimportant faded away until all that remained was a girl with a long, dark brown ponytail and intense green eyes.

  Saving Legacy would no longer mean betrayal—it would mean breaking free of Dane once and for all. It would mean finishing what Mom and I had started together, e
ven if that meant doing it alone.

  A gasp sounded from the door, followed by a scuffle. The guards wrestled a medic back from the doorway. By the color draining from his face, the man had made a very incorrect assumption about my presence here.

  “Terrorists!” he spat, and hurried out of sight. His shouts echoed down the hall after him.

  “Your goodbyes are over,” the taller guard said, grabbing my arm and dragging me out. I sent Mom’s form a quick glance before they pulled me out of sight.

  An alarm penetrated the numbness of my mind. The guards shoved me through the wide hallway toward the double doors leading outside toward the train station. Most passerby took one look at the bulky guards and threw themselves out of our way. Others saw the colorful swelling on my face and slowed, trying to ascertain what was happening. I wore my Neuromen uniform, not a hospital gown, but I certainly looked like a patient.

  That gave me an idea.

  A group of six security guards dressed in black uniforms rounded the building as we entered the parking lot. The train station lay just beyond.

  “Help!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Firebrand kidnappers!”

  They looked at each other and began to run.

  My guards cursed. One backhanded me across the face and pulled us all into a slow jog. They couldn’t hold my arms and run very quickly. Exactly as I’d hoped.

  The guards behind us rose a shout. “Stop or you’ll be stunned!” one called out.

  The man holding my right arm pulled us all to a stop and turned. “Go away. This is Firebrand business.”

  “Release the patient so we can question him,” a woman in the middle of the pack snapped, sweeping her stunner from one offender to the other. “Now!”

  I shook free of the guards’ hands and gave my shoulders a roll, thinking quickly and ignoring the pinching sensation in my rib cage. “I woke up to find these guys dragging me out of my hospital bed. They say I owe them money or something.”

  It was the right thing to say. A Firebrand had snuck inside the hospital a few years ago and beaten a patient nearly to death. It wasn’t upon Dane’s order, but we’d been forced to lie low for a while. The hospital guards’ eyes narrowed and leveled on the thugs once more.

  “Thanks for the help,” I said, sending the hospital guards a quick salute. Then I bolted.

  “Hey!” the woman called, but she didn’t shoot. It would be against hospital protocol to stun a patient unless they were under psychological treatment. By the time she searched hospital records and found my lie, I’d be long gone.

  Dane’s thugs—or were they Zenye’s?—threw themselves into a sprint after me, but as I’d suspected, they began panting and pulled back almost immediately. Their strength was in bulk and fighting, not distance running. I let my legs fall into a natural rhythm, focusing on my breathing and refusing to acknowledge the pain in my ribs and the headache threatening to tear my head apart.

  Legacy needed me—and I was pretty sure I knew where to find her.

  Twenty-Five

  Legacy

  An incoming message startled me awake. A sharp pain in my neck meant I’d fallen asleep in the chair. Gram dozed in the bed, her bagged light bathing half her face in light. Travers sat near the entrance to our cavern, too still to be awake.

  I pulled the message up quickly, but it wasn’t from Dad. It was from Alex.

  MEET ME AT THE BLOCK IN ONE HOUR.

  I frowned. Hadn’t Virgil said Alex was blocked from communicating with me? Maybe the restrictions only worked one way. But why wouldn’t Dad contact me if he could? And why would he tell Alex to request a meeting at the Block after we’d specifically warned him away from there?

  A second message came through. It was only one word long.

  PLEASE.

  My suspicions calmed. Idiot or not, Alex was still my brother. Maybe he and Dad were stuck inside the Block and needed a safe escape or something. I didn’t dare reply to ask. If Alex could reach me here, maybe the location sensors could as well. I wouldn’t be the one to draw Virgil upon us.

  I woke Travers, who hurried away to get the boat ready. It would take almost the full hour just to get there. Then I turned to Gram, who’d rolled over to place her back toward me. I hated to leave her here alone, but this cavern was far safer than where I was about to venture. I would send Travers back to check on her.

  The ride to the common docks was a choppy one. Travers took it slow, carefully picking his way through the waves. My ankle felt a little better after some rest, but it was still stiff enough to make walking painful. I gripped the seat beneath me with both hands and endured the heavy bouncing of our watercraft.

  “Thank you for saving me earlier,” I told Travers. “I know it’s your job to drive me around, but that was definitely beyond your job description.”

  “As lively as your grandmother is, I do miss your after-school stories. Besides, I’m out of romance novels.” He winked. “I’m happy to be your escort for the evening’s events.”

  That was an interesting way to put it. First, rescue Dad and Alex. Second, break into the lab and stop an apocalypse. The second item of business made the first sound almost simple.

  We reached the dock, climbed into my usual transport—which still smelled like Gram’s hair powder—and headed for the Block.

  I knew the instant I arrived that something was off. The earlier protestors were gone. Guards stood in their usual positions, but although they wore the same uniforms, their faces were different. Saja at the main desk with her jar full of caramel candies was gone, replaced by a stern-faced man with shaggy brown hair who watched our every step. Even the lift operator was some woman I’d never seen before, wearing a uniform that was obviously too large. She avoided my gaze as we ascended to the eighth floor, where the Copper Office was situated.

  Travers and I exchanged a worried glance. If only Gram had a stunner we could have brought along. Had something happened to Alex?

  Where was Dad?

  We finally arrived and allowed ourselves to be ushered through the waiting room that serviced Dad’s office. I shot the tiny fish in its aquarium a glance only for my breath to catch. He was there, but he floated too still and near the water’s surface. As I squinted at him, I realized his belly was exposed to the sky.

  The stamped copper glinting on the walls of Dad’s office caught my attention first, as it always did. A family capture from two years ago graced the main wall, under which sat a glass desk that sharply contrasted with the room’s classical architecture and decor. Guards lined two entire walls. They closed the door immediately after our entrance and took their places once again, stiff and solemn. Alex sat at the desk with his hands folded, his knee bouncing underneath.

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked immediately. Alex wore his usual uniform, but there was something different about him now. A brightness to his eyes that contrasted with the strain pulling his mouth downward. Bad news.

  “He’s safe,” Alex said evenly.

  Something wasn’t right. There was guilt in my brother’s eyes. “Alex. What do you mean by safe?”

  “I know exactly where Dad is, and I’ll take you to him soon. Patience. You never did understand how busy things can get around here, did you? Never had any interest in how a country is run or how to please important people. You scoffed at all of it.”

  I felt sick. “That’s not true. I respect what you and Dad are doing here.”

  “And you’re content to let us keep doing it because you’re above such things.”

  I frowned at Travers, who watched Alex with a tight jaw. My brother went off on things sometimes, but now he looked almost manic. “What is this about?”

  “It’s about you knowing where you belong. I’m trying to figure out whether you do.”

  I took a few steps toward him. As he rose to meet me, a few of the nearest guards stiffened, ready to leap. I slowed with a sinking sensation in my stomach. They weren’t here to protect us.

  They were here to protect
Alex.

  Oh, fates. I’d been so, so stupid.

  “It’s you,” I said softly. “You’re the mole who’s taking power during the transition.”

  “What transition? I was always next in line. Yet you’re the one everyone likes. Did you know that you have three times more media coverage than I do? I’m making decisions that shape the fate of countries while the press scrambles over each other to hear how your latest haircut went.”

  I flushed. “I never wanted any of that.”

  “Your standoffish act just makes them seek you out harder. I’m tired of it.”

  I banged my hand on the desk, startling the tense guards. “Alex. What have you done?”

  “Dad doesn’t know everything. All right? He thinks he does, but he acts out of instinct and fear. I had to act to stave off a revolution and keep the Copper Office in the family. I’m doing all of us a favor.”

  “By locking Dad up and handing the country over to terrorists? How is that helpful to anyone?”

  “See, your reaction just proves you would have driven our entire family to ruin. The Firebrands would have taken over within the week. Dad was wrong to pick you, just like he was wrong about everything else. At least this way a Hawking will still rule.”

  His words finally sunk in. “You mean . . . Dad wanted to name me his successor?”

  Alex scowled and plopped down into his chair. Dad’s chair. “I found the speech in his storage files. He wrote it a year ago even though our birthday isn’t for six more months. He never said a word about it. Not when I worked for him and you lounged at home, or when you ditched the family for that stupid lab job. I deleted the speech, so nobody will ever know.”

  I was speechless. Why would Dad choose me over Alex?

  “Even if he had announced it, though, it would be me sitting here anyway. You know why?” He leaned forward. “I pulled up your birth records and found a little discrepancy.”

  My stomach turned to ice. I couldn’t move my feet.

  The memory returned. As always, the faces were hazy against the background of toys in the playroom. I remembered only the voices. Gram’s was steady, while Mom’s was broken, a staccato version of her own.