“What if you found out everything you believed was a lie? What if everything you thought you knew was wrong?”
“I find that doesn’t really happen.”
“It happened to me when I first came here. I thought Malcolm was a sadistic prick. I thought you were all deluded, playing house. I was wrong.” Well, he hadn’t been wrong about all of it, but that was inconsequential.
“You didn’t really think that. Your gut told you differently. That’s what had you so mad. When you pushed aside your anger, you knew the truth. If there is one thing this life has taught me, it’s that there is no substitute for our own intuition.”
Will had too much respect for Syrus to disregard his words out of hand. If it was truth he was after, he needed to remove his emotions from the equation and listen to his gut. How could his gut have been so wrong? But had it been? Or was that his emotions talking?
“I don’t know if I can trust my intuition.”
“Of course you can. That’s what makes it intuition. Now, it’s about time for lunch. You slept right through breakfast. It’s always best not to make any decisions on an empty stomach, so why don’t you walk me down to the kitchen, we can eat, and then you can decide if the world is really bad enough to warrant an attempted escape by combined ocean-rain drowning? I’ll make sure the others don’t bother you.”
Will smiled. The decision that should have torn at his mind came easily. “All right. I’ll go, but only because I’d never live it down if you fell on the stairs because I refused to walk you.”
“And I’d blame it on you.”
Will stood a little shakily and dressed. Whatever the future held, he was going to enjoy this time with the people he loved and ignore the monster at the head of the table.
The monster, it appeared, had stayed in his cave. Will glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. He and Syrus were three minutes late. That meant Malcolm was almost definitely not coming.
“Will, you’re up!” Nick ran to give him a hug.
“Leave the boy alone. He’s been through enough. I don’t want any of you making a fuss or asking stupid questions.”
Syrus’s tone stopped Nick in his tracks. He smiled and nodded to Will and then took his seat. The rest followed suit, biting back questions and giving him smiles instead.
Will limped to his seat. For some reason, the physical impediment that had seemed to melt away during his time here reasserted itself as if to lament the dishonest world that birthed it. It’d never gone away, only ceased to make its presence so keenly felt. Will didn’t know if he should be a Zed or not, he only knew that a flawed system had made him one, and that same system had sentenced him to a life without full use of his left leg.
A deep melancholy settled on him as he saw the merry faces around him. Each broken body had found whatever cheerfulness he could in a world that had failed them all. Before, they’d been brave, making the best of a shitty situation. Now they were just sad. Pawns in a sick and sadistic game played by a few men. The food formed a cold lump in his stomach. While eating eased his headache and took away some of his weakness, he wanted the meal to be over so he could retreat back to his room.
From the conversation, he gathered that Malcolm was at the social function the Geneticist had invited him to and had taken Kaleana with him. Probably going to hobnob with the people whose pockets he was in—a lively discussion about how many more people they should dehumanize this year over last while drinking champagne and eating caviar. The whole thing disgusted Will. As soon as lunch was over, he went back to his room, not bothering to talk to the others. His mind couldn’t conjure any words for them.
In his room, Will flopped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d always been quick to judge. Had he simply jumped at the chance to reignite his anger? Was it just too comfortable to fall back into that old pattern rather than admit that he’d been wrong, that there was a whole life in front of him that he was scared to take hold of? He needed to retrace his steps, look at the whole picture factually, devoid of emotional prejudice.
Will grabbed his tab and pulled up the data. He quelled the anger that leapt to his throat at seeing the population graph. In the absence of anger, sadness overtook him. How could he possibly believe Malcolm was capable of this? Of not only knowledge but complicity with the Geneticists and their nefarious plans? No. He couldn’t afford to allow his feelings one way or the other to factor into it. He needed to push through it all and listen to his instincts. His instincts said he had come to know the man who had saved him, and he wasn’t capable of this. But he hadn’t denied it. Will had all but begged him to.
But Syrus said instincts don’t lie. He needed to find the proof to exonerate Malcolm and vindicate himself. If his instincts were right, there would be factual evidence. It’d only be in one place, and there wasn’t much time. Malcolm and Kaleana had left before lunch. He pocketed his tab and made his way to Malcolm’s office. The door was unlocked as it always was. For a man who was so secretive, Malcolm sure was trusting. Then again, the exterior security was enough that no one who didn’t belong could ever make it into the compound, much less into the house. Will pushed away a pang of guilt. Of course Malcolm was trusting in his own home. He had no reason not to be. No one under his care, who had been given so much, would violate his trust by snooping. No one but Will, who owed him more than the rest.
He entered the office and walked directly to Malcolm’s desk, avoiding lingering on the memories the room provoked. The memories were meaningless until Will found the truth. He sat at the desk and got to work.
He didn’t have any advanced skills when it came to computers; he knew just enough to do his job. He’d have to find everything without help from Kaleana or Malcolm. Will knew Malcolm’s passwords. With any luck, he’d be able to find his proof. There was no reason for Malcolm to go to extreme measures to hide what he was doing.
Will activated the display. As soon as it had unfolded from the desk, a box prompted him for a password. BILLYZED. Will hit enter and waited for the screen to unlock. Instead, the box bounced. “Invalid password.” The red words stared back at him.
“What?” Will sank back in the chair. He knew that was it. He’d seen Malcolm enter it weeks ago. He tried again. He had to have made a typo.
Again, the red words flashed.
He couldn’t do it, not without access to Malcolm’s computer. Malcolm must have changed the password. It was over.
Will closed his eyes. Without his consent, images of his time with Malcolm entered his mind. Nights they had spent together. Those precious moments when Will comforted Malcolm after a beating. The pure joy he’d shared with Malcolm had exceeded anything he ever thought possible.
His eyes snapped open, and he leaned forward. Of course. He should have known Malcolm would do something so sentimental. WILLZED.
“Invalid password. One attempt remaining.”
No. That was all he had. If it wasn’t that, it could be one of a million things. Maybe Malcolm had changed it after Will had confronted him. But that wasn’t like him. He’d used Billy’s name as a password for ages. It didn’t make sense. Besides, Will highly doubted Malcolm would think to change his password after their confrontation. He wouldn’t concern himself with such practical matters. Will was willing to bet that Malcolm still trusted him.
Guilt at his deception clenched Will’s heart. It was necessary. He couldn’t afford doubt. While he wanted to trust Malcolm, he knew if they were ever going to move past this, he needed to know. If he didn’t prove it to himself, there would always be a shadow of doubt that could eventually ruin them. He was betraying Malcolm’s trust for their shared good. He could ask for forgiveness later. If they belonged together, they’d weather this, if only Will could get the truth. He was sure Malcolm would understand, even be grateful if it meant they could be together.
One more try.
Will emptied his mind and typed the first thing that came to him.
MYWILLZED
Ent
er.
A pause.
The box faded to reveal a new screen. Success.
Will breathed easy, trying not to feel touched by Malcolm’s choice of password. The relief was short-lived as he realized the enormity of the task before him. It would have been difficult without any time constraints. His heart raced. He needed to think clearly, follow logical steps through until he found what he was looking for. The best option would be to find any files of interest and copy them to his tab to examine when he had more time.
The first file he grabbed was the original folder containing the data he’d seen. What else should he copy? He pulled up the security feed and put it in the corner of the secondary display. He’d work until Malcolm’s car returned. The advance warning of Malcolm’s return provided a bit of a safety net. He needed to remain calm. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that he needed to keep his eyes open to recognize it when he saw it. Whenever he saw something even remotely interesting, he copied it over.
Messages. He opened Malcolm’s comm account. There was the personal account the boys used. Then there was the business account. But underneath those two was a third Will had never seen. It wasn’t out of the question that Malcolm would have another comm account. Will clicked on it and found a bunch of messages to and from people he had never heard of, especially someone named Oculus. That name did ring a bell where the others didn’t. He’d heard Malcolm say it in his sleep, but he hadn’t realized it was a name. There wasn’t time to look through it all now. He copied it. On second thought, better take all the messages.
Will hadn’t expected to have time left. He navigated back to the original data file. He decided to copy the entire parent directory, fully prepared to abort if necessary to get out of the office before Malcolm discovered him. Even compressed, the file was massive. He started the copy and transfer process and rose. Watching the slow crawl of the progress bar would only drive him crazy. He kept the video feed in sight and looked around the office. The monochrome room that had at first seemed so cold and sterile was now warm, full of the life of a man Will had really thought he loved. No, he still loved Malcolm. Always would. That was what made this whole affair so painful. He had expected this of Alphas. He knew they were all the same. It had been foolish to let this one get to him. If it had been anyone other than Malcolm, it wouldn’t have hurt so much. In fact, it wouldn’t have hurt at all.
The garage door opened in the camera feed. The progress bar showed ninety-eight percent complete. Just a few more minutes. The door closed behind Malcolm’s car. He got out. Will didn’t want to see him. The emotions his tall, lean figure stirred were too overpowering.
“Come on.” He tapped his fingers so hard against the desk that the entire structure shook.
Ding.
Will exited the screen and locked the display. He took the front stairs to avoid encountering Malcolm. No one saw him make his way back to his room. He wasted no time in getting started. This needed to come to some sort of conclusion today. He couldn’t live with this doubt. He sat on his bed, physically weak after everything he’d been through, and pulled out the tab.
The easiest course was to start at the beginning. He found the data that had started this whole horrible spiral. It was in a file marked Walken. Will had never heard the name Walken. A web inquiry brought back exactly one relevant result for the name. A Geneticist. Of course.
What other information might this Walken be trading with Malcolm? Will switched over to the comm accounts and ran a search. Sure enough, multiple communications with Walken appeared. Will ran through them all. An invitation to dinner. Thanks for a gift. Regards after a meeting at the club. All casual social interactions.
Back to the web. Walken was the head of Research and Development. It wasn’t likely he’d have any direct business with Panacea. They dealt directly with the Applicable Tech division and Supplies. He’d uncovered his first hole. Back in the Walken file, he did some more looking around. It wasn’t likely this data was the only thing Walken had ever traded with Malcolm. The structure of the directory was astounding, like a whole other computer. Most of the folders were compressed, and it looked as if a lot of the information had been purged or was missing. He found the subdirectory for messages and expanded it. There were Walken’s comm accounts.
Will dropped his tab on the bed. Malcolm wasn’t trading information with the Geneticists. He was stealing it. That’s why he’d been so insistent that Will lock down his computer yesterday. Somehow, he’d found his way into Walken’s system and had cloned the information. That was the only explanation for why Malcolm would have copies of the private comm accounts of a Geneticist. Will didn’t know much about computers, but he knew the Geneticists must have one bitch of an encryption protecting their data. And that was after multiple firewalls and systems had been burrowed through.
What was Malcolm up to?
That was enough. He needed to talk to Malcolm, to apologize, and then get the truth from him. He navigated out of the file and locked it down as best he could on his Glass Tab. Having this information was dangerous. Once the Walken folder was secure, he caught sight of Malcolm’s comm accounts. There still wasn’t an explanation for the third account. It was wrong of him, but he knew once he talked to Malcolm, he wouldn’t feel right going behind his back this way. It wasn’t right now, but he’d done a decent job of justifying it to himself. He clicked on that third account and began to read.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he found.
39
Thirty-Nine
Malcolm loosened his tie as he went to his closet, ignoring the fact that Kaleana had followed him into his room. Perhaps she’d go away if he didn’t acknowledge her. The day had been too long and tiring already. Worry for Will ate at his mind. He didn’t know how he had made it through that ridiculous luncheon. If it had been anyone other than Walken who had invited him, he would have declined. As it was, he couldn’t afford to burn bridges or rouse suspicions.
He changed out of his suit. What he really wanted was to see Will, but he couldn’t force his presence on him. Marcy had messaged him to tell him Will had woken up in time for lunch and had cleaned his plate. It appeared he really would be fine. Maybe Malcolm would just sleep for the rest of the day. He felt as if he could sleep for a week. When he left the closet, he found Kaleana sitting on his bed. If he wanted peace, he’d have to go to the loft. When he was halfway to the door, Kaleana stood and spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” She’d been holding it in all day. They hadn’t been completely alone since he’d plucked Will from the beach, and he knew she’d have her say.
“And what is the truth, Kaleana? You don’t even know.” He’d kept as much from her as he could—the details—to maintain plausible deniability should he ever be found out, but she knew what he did.
“I know enough.”
Malcolm turned to face her. “You helped make the decision to move forward with my work. That was your choice. Will’s stumbled into all of this. I won’t endanger him by making him an accomplice.”
She shook her head. “You don’t even realize how disrespectful and insulting you’re being to the man you claim to love. He’s not a little boy, Malcolm. You’re fighting to improve the world for Zeds, but you insist on treating your own like they’re children, incapable of making their own decisions. Either Will is your partner, or he’s not.”
“He’s not.”
“Why not let him make that choice? How is you stripping him of choice any different than what every other Alpha has ever done to him? Because your intentions are better? The intention of the caste system was to save humanity.”
“Yes, and we’ve killed it in the process.”
“Exactly. Your intentions are good, Malcolm. I’m not disputing that, but I worry that the outcome is not going to match the intent. Trust Will. If he hears the truth and decides he’s better off not knowing, we can deal with that then. Don’t let him think you’re someone you’re not.
Don’t let him believe the last months were a lie. He deserves better than that. If it’s too dangerous, fine, let him know that’s why you pulled away. As it stands, he’s going to lose all trust and faith in you, in everything you’ve taught him.”
“What have I taught him?” Will hadn’t learned anything from Malcolm other than that, when it came down to it, all Alphas were liars.
“I know you think he’s the one who saved you, that he rescued you from yourself. I have no doubt that in that twisted mind of yours, you’ve been taking from Will since the moment you bought him. But it’s not true. You’ve changed him for the better. You’ve given him just as much as you’ve taken. When he arrived here, he was so angry at the world he barely knew which direction was up. You were both self-destructive in your own ways. Your frigid personality threatened to break everything good in you, and his fire threatened to burn him from the inside out. But together? Together, you two have cancelled out the extremes in each other’s lives. You were both calling out in distress without even realizing it. He’s given you the warmth you’ve needed, the warmth that died the day Billy did. And you’ve calmed him, brought his fire under control. Respect him enough to let him make his own choice. This may be the thing he needs to point his newfound passion toward, to funnel it into.”
Malcolm blanched. “Nothing in this world scares me more than that.”
“Why? He’d be a capable ally.”
“Because I don’t want him feeling like he needs to save the world. The danger is too great.”
“No, you have a monopoly on that one, don’t you?”
“He owes the world nothing. He’s the victim in all of this.”
“Then empower him to face those who have victimized him. But that’s not really the issue, is it? No, this goes all the way back to Billy. You’re scared that you loving him—that bringing him into your life—is going to get him killed.”
[In Distress 01.0] In Distress Page 28
