Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  “Nothing.” He collapsed into a chair with a sigh. “I wish I could tell you His Honor will recover, but there’s been no change in brain activity whatsoever, no indication he’ll recover if pulled out of the coma anytime soon. I fear that if we try . . .”

  He didn’t have to finish. Dad would die, no question. The disappointment hung heavy in my gut. The physician said my update had likely prevented others from falling ill, but there was little improvement in any of the sick. My hope that Dad would be an exception shriveled by the minute.

  I’d plugged the leak, but I couldn’t replace the water.

  “How does it look out there?” I asked him softly.

  “Not good. Hundreds of others are in limbo, same as your father. Every cabinet member and some of their spouses. Most of the highest-class citizens. Only a small percentage come from the lower 50 percent income bracket, and those appear to be completely random.”

  Like Kole’s mom. Chosen at random to lose the lottery.

  Gram’s face was an ashen gray. “Do they all remain in their homes?”

  “We’ve gathered most to a smaller hospital in my own neighborhood to maximize the efficiency of my rounds—although I suspect there are more victims than we’ve discovered so far, so a single facility won’t hold them much longer.”

  “We also need to increase security,” I said. “The Firebrands might try something. Dane Mason has no love for any of those people.”

  “A good point.” He looked up at Gram. “With your permission, Your Honorable Madame Hawking, I’ll have the guard tripled.”

  I expected her to agree immediately, but instead, she stood there with one hand on her cane, still looking troubled, the cane trembling a bit under her weight.

  I put an arm around her. “Gram, I’m sorry. We’ll figure out how to save Dad very soon.”

  “It isn’t that. I mean, that’s part of it, but keeping him under will buy us time.”

  “Did I say something offensive, Your Honor?” the surgeon asked, rising to his feet. “If so, I apologize—”

  Gram lifted a hand. “Don’t. Please. I’m so tired of being apologized to. Thank you for your kind attention to my son and for raising an important question.” She stroked my hair. “I’ve finished my watch at the helm. Malachite can’t rule, and his son has proven incompetent. It’s time we all acknowledged what my son knew all along. Legacy, it’s your turn.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. She couldn’t be serious. “Gram, I haven’t spent a day at the office. I know as much about politics as the sewer rats Dad had exterminated last year.”

  “Politics can be taught. What can’t be taught is a loyal heart, and you have that. You’ve had it all along. It’s why Malachite changed his creed.”

  “But . . .” My eyes darted between Gram and the surgeon, who both watched me with somber expressions. “The bloodline.”

  She knew exactly what I meant. “The word ‘bloodline’ appears nowhere in the ruling, Legacy. Not even ‘blood.’ Just members of my family, which you most certainly are. The fact that the country’s leader chose you to succeed him—a move I happen to agree with—overrides any questions. If anyone struggles with the idea, send them my way, and I’ll set them straight.” She squeezed my arm. “Thankfully, you don’t have to guide an entire nation of people through the desert to a new home. You just have to, you know, fix an epidemic, rip political power from a rival sibling, and overturn every bit of damage he’s done. No problem at all.”

  I gave her a flat look, which made her chuckle. I shouldn’t have told her about Dad’s decision. Now I would never hear the end of it.

  “I’m happy to make the announcement if it would be helpful, Your Honored Madame,” the surgeon said.

  “Thank you,” I broke in, still feeling a little dazed. “But I’ll do that myself. You have enough to worry about right now.” How an announcement like that would work, I wasn’t sure. I’d never declared myself the leader of a resistance movement before. I glanced at Gram, who watched me with a tiny smile, and felt a little better. She’d survived her experience by taking things one day at a time. I would do the same.

  Kole lay on a makeshift cot across the room, his colorful bruises a stark contrast against his pale skin. The tattoo on his bare chest was clearly visible above the blanket. With his issue being different from the others, the physician didn’t know the extent of the damage to his brain. At best, Kole would struggle to function as he had before.

  At worst, he wouldn’t wake at all.

  I glanced toward the third cot, where Travers lay. My update had caught him before he’d fallen unconscious, which apparently put him in the best condition of the three. Millian had taken over boat duty for the time being.

  “Tomorrow then, Your Honor?”

  It took a second to realize he was addressing me. “Yes. Tomorrow. Please send me a report on that security increase.” Now that Neuromen’s relay center no longer intercepted or filtered messages, we could communicate with each other freely. For reasons unknown, Virgil hadn’t targeted workers at any of the city’s relay centers. Conveniently, most of them were loyal to Dad and, hopefully with time, us. I just wasn’t sure how long that would last with Alex in charge.

  “Of course, Your Honor.” He gave a slight bow and left, leaving me reeling at the title. It made my skin crawl. That would take some getting used to.

  Gram pulled me over to the soft chairs and motioned for me to sit. “While the men are dozing away, we need to discuss your plan.”

  This part came easily, as I’d thought about it all day. “First, we’ll send teams to comb through Neuromen tomorrow. We need to salvage any equipment we can find and bring it into town. If there’s a warehouse somewhere, that would be ideal. My friend Millian will take it from there.”

  The entire lab staff had made it out of the fire safely except for five—all guards standing around the blast itself. It was no surprise that Virgil and Zenye were both missing. I suspected Virgil was headed to Malrain right now with his storage of backup plans. We’d sent a rough contingent of soldiers after him, but there had been no word yet. If they failed, Malrain would be happy to accommodate a neurotech genius with the same hatred of New NORA they had. I doubted we’d seen the last of Director Virgil.

  Zenye, on the other hand, was a mystery. Had she followed her father out of the country or joined up with Dane and the Firebrands?

  The thought of Zenye and Dane plotting together made me tired.

  “A million friends?” Gram repeated, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

  I smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Thirty-Four

  Kole

  I spent entire lifetimes tumbling through a dark tunnel, chasing glimpses of light that slipped through my fingers. There was no present, just the past. Mom was alive and holding out her hand. Dad stood by her side, pre-Firebrand, and our simply-furnished apartment stood as if nothing had ever happened. There were glimpses of Mom’s hospital room and a strange ceiling I’d never seen before.

  The memories came fast, barely more than flashes of color. My childhood best friend’s face. Bruises on a cousin’s chest, the inside of a transport, an old pet dog who wasn’t allowed in the house. Climbing onto an old rooftop at midnight to watch the moon during an eclipse.

  There was a pressure on my hand. Someone nearby spoke, but the words slipped through my mind and refused to stay. I opened my hand to catch the words and the pressure increased. A squeeze. A gentle voice.

  Opening my eyes required an impossible effort and several tries. The light sank away every time. I had to climb up through the tunnel to find it again. Finally the light burst in, exploding through every crevice and lighting my way for good.

  I found myself in an unfamiliar room, though with the ceiling I’d seen before. Medical equipment stood to my left, old and temporary-looking. A window farther back glared brilliantly. It illuminated everything in an orange hue.

  Someone squeezed my hand again. A shadow pa
ssed over my face, and Legacy came into view. “Welcome back.”

  I willed my mouth to cooperate, but my tongue felt like a useless, lumpy thing. She stood and stepped away for a moment, returning with a water packet. Soon a light trickle of water entered my mouth. I could barely catch it to swallow, but it felt incredibly good.

  “It’s okay,” Legacy said, setting the water packet aside. “After what you just survived, talking may take some rehabilitation. I’ll be here with you for all of it.”

  I looked past her at an open door. This was no hospital. In fact, it looked like someone’s house.

  “The cavern was temporary,” Legacy said. “This is Millian’s childhood home. They moved away several years ago when the owner willed it to her daughter upon her death. I guess the daughter didn’t care for it because it’s been empty for years. Don’t worry, your uncle won’t think to look here. We’ve been running operations out of it for almost a week.”

  A week.

  Wisps of memory began to solidify into actual shapes as the events of the previous days took hold. Kissing Legacy. Seeing her brother Alex on a big screen. The pain in my head and a headlong escape down a long hallway.

  It slammed into me like a transport. Fates. Mom really was dead.

  “You look panicked,” Legacy said, brushing a soft finger along my scratchy chin. I desperately needed a shave. “There’s a lot to catch you up on, but first, do you want to know what happened to your mom?”

  I managed to incline my head. It hurt like Hades. Don’t do that again.

  She looked hesitant for a moment, though she continued to stroke my face. “I located her a few days ago. Your uncle sent her to the cremation clinic, but we intercepted her body. She’s resting in a cold facility now, waiting for you. I couldn’t let them . . .”

  I managed to squeeze her hand back, knowing the pain in her eyes was reflected in my own. She knew how it felt to live without closure in her own mother’s death. No body meant no cremation.

  “Thank . . . you,” I managed.

  Legacy squealed. “I knew it! I knew you’d be okay. Let me go get Gram.” She hopped out of the chair and ran out the door.

  Her grandmother was here too? I guess Legacy had said something about operations. I took in my surroundings once more, but there was no indication this place was anything but a house.

  Treena had almost as much life in her step as Legacy when they returned. The older woman bent over and stared at me, just inches from my face. She smelled of tooth powder and an odd combination of mint and vanilla. I blinked, startled at her sudden proximity.

  “So you aren’t going to die on us,” she said, pulling back. “Good. We still need you. Although I think Legacy needs you more.”

  “For what?” I croaked.

  “Legacy means to lead us to victory against her brother and your foolish uncle. But she shouldn’t have to do it alone, should she?”

  Legacy, not her dad. The news was too much for my weary mind to process, but I licked my lips and tried again. “His Honor?”

  Pain flashed through Legacy’s face. “We don’t know yet.”

  “I will always help.” My voice was gravelly but firm. Whatever agreements her brother Alex had drafted with Neuromen and the Firebrands, I had no doubt he was in over his head. The crocodiles were circling, and he was too proud to see it. At least I could help Legacy navigate the pond.

  Legacy nodded, her eyes warm. “I know. We’ll do this together. But first, let’s get you better.”

  Thirty-Five

  Kole

  Nearly a week later, I stood in front of a giant oven in a massive warehouse. They’d disguised the building’s true purpose with columns and fancy pillars, but no ornateness could hide the acidic smell of smoke and burned human flesh.

  On a gurney in front of me lay my mother.

  I’d had a long time to prepare for this, but the sight of her still rocked me. Her pale skin looked almost a sickly gray, a plastic-like appearance to her face. Someone had arranged her hair in a side bun just below her ear. She would have hated it.

  The cremation director seemed surprised that I’d showed up alone. I hadn’t even told Legacy. Mom didn’t have any family left, and I sure wasn’t inviting Dane. Her life would end much as she’d lived it—just she and I, the two people who mattered most to each other.

  I examined the cold, silent oven. The moment I left, she would be shoved inside. The director’s expression when I explained I wouldn’t be taking her remains home in an urn had been almost amusing.

  He didn’t understand. That body in there wasn’t Mom, nor were her ashes. She existed only in my memories now. No vase could possibly change that.

  Though out of a sense of obligation more than anything, I lowered my head and spoke a few words about how much I would miss her. Then I fell silent and let my heart say what my mouth couldn’t.

  I felt a hand grip my shoulder. I knew by its gentle touch that Legacy had found me.

  Slipping my arm through hers, I pulled her close and rested my chin on her head. We stood quiet and somber for a long time.

  “She’s beautiful,” Legacy said.

  I nodded.

  “My mom was too. Maybe they’re getting to know each other wherever they are.”

  “I’m sure that’s the case. Mom never bought into the Firebrands’ mentality. She always admired your family.” I didn’t tell Legacy how Mom had disapproved of my choice to join, fearing I’d become like Dad.

  If I hadn’t met Legacy, what would I be doing now? Working under my uncle, sabotaging the government, and hurting the Hawkings any way I could? Or would I eventually have seen what Mom had intended for me all along?

  “I thought you went to a meeting with Millian,” I said. Legacy’s roommate had taken initiative over Legacy’s makeshift neurotech unit in a warehouse across town. Nearly two entire Neuromen wings had burned down, but they’d salvaged about a quarter of the equipment. If nothing else, they’d be keeping it from Virgil. Wherever he was.

  “Millian wants to disable the implants,” Legacy said, her voice low so we wouldn’t be overheard. The funeral director was nowhere to be seen now, but I suspected he was nearby, waiting for us to leave. “But the physicians say our brains have evolved to rely on them at this point. Removing them could make things far worse.”

  “What about Malrain?” I asked. If the Firebrands were crocodiles circling an injured animal, our neighboring country was a group of vultures ready to pounce. I wasn’t sure which would take us first.

  It was remarkable how the country had changed in just eight days. Food was scarce, and the people were distrustful and hardened and fought to secure protection for their families. Employment was hit-and-miss. National transportation was down.

  I’d helped to make that happen. Now I would work to unravel it and create something better.

  I took Legacy’s hand. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  “You said your goodbyes?”

  I smiled tightly at my mother. “I said them before she passed.” They just hadn’t been verbal.

  Legacy wrapped me in an embrace. “Let’s make sure we don’t have to say any more goodbyes for a while.” I knew she was thinking of her father and brother. One recovered in a makeshift hospital room across town, separate from where we stayed but closer to medical help. The other sat in a stolen office made of copper, ignoring how the country crumbled under his hand.

  Something told me the goodbyes weren’t finished yet, but I didn’t tell her so. I simply squeezed her hand as we left the crematory and emerged into the wider world.

  LEGACY AND KOLE’S STORY CONTINUES in Numbers Collide (coming soon). Join Rebecca’s reading club HERE to be notified first when it releases!

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Numbers Ascending! With the success of the Numbers Game series, I’ve received an innumerable number of emails from readers over the years, most saying, “More, please!” It was an absolute pleasure returning to New NORA to explore
its possibilities with you in a brand new trilogy.

  Before you go, would you mind posting a review? It helps keep the book visible to other readers just like you. You’ll find the review option on its product page HERE.

  And finally, don’t forget to join my reader’s club! You get free stuff (including shorts in the Numbers Game world) as well as exclusive giveaways and discounts. Click HERE to join.

  Your support makes all this possible. Thank you!

  Happy Reading,

  Rebecca

  BONUS: MALACHI’S STORY

  The first part of the escape was always the hardest.

  Malachi sat crouched between two trimmed bushes, ducking his head in case the guards swept their handlights over him. The sound of distant laughter held him in place. It sounded forced and awkward. Why had Erne and Bailey chosen tonight for an epic flirting session, of all nights?

  He dared lift his head and scan the north lawn of his family’s estate. No guards blocked his path there, but light from the inside windows flooded the lawn, turning it a bright gold. Even if the night guards were too busy to notice, there could be someone inside who would. With his luck, it would be the sharp-eyed housecleaner or the ever-nosy laundry team who spotted him and freaked out that the Hawking heir was outside his cage.

  Not that his parents would have noticed, even if they were here. His mom and leader of New NORA, Treena Hawking, had meetings with important people all over the world. She was barely in the country, let alone home for family dinner. His father, Vance, helped keep country and estate running in her absence. Not an elected office, exactly, but a necessary one that brought respect. If you asked either of them, Malachi should be grateful for the good they did in the community.