by Jacob Whaler
She chooses. Fugitive and free.
Her jax flashes green. Pressing its tip against the window, Qaara closes her eyes, turns away and taps her finger.
The window explodes into a fine mist of dust that falls away to the streets below like a miniature snowstorm in midsummer, creating a ten-foot hole.
A rush of cool air lifts her hair off her shoulders. It’s as if it blows away the mask she’s been wearing most of her life.
She turns her back to her office, faces the dawn sky and steps out the window, arms outstretched to embrace the new Qaara and her new life.
19
RICE
Luca stares into Zero’s eyes.
Rolling waves of rage and venom boil away from his skin.
“I’ve always hated you. You know why?” Zero steps forward, flexes his jaw and bares gray teeth. “You refuse to be afraid, to turn away. Like you think you’re better than the rest of us. Some kind of superhero. And the Superintendent always stops me before I can hurt you too much. But not tonight. There’s no one left to protect you. No one left to stop me from giving you what you deserve. I’m going to beat the voices out of you.”
The first blow comes, lighter than Luca expects. The chain wraps around her shoulder, drops down her back and bites into her spine.
“Let’s start slow. Maybe I’ll stop when I see fear.” Zero's lips go thin with a grin. “Maybe not.” He swings the chain again, harder, sideways.
It wraps around her neck three or four times.
Luca’s lids drop. Her mind goes outside the window, searching for a sea of tiny voices.
Come, she thinks.
The chain unravels from her neck, leaving a line of burning cuts. Rivulets of warmth run down her back. Zero’s laughter hovers on the fringe of her consciousness. All her attention is focused on the small voices outside. The chain bites into her ribs. Pain becomes a distant memory.
Come to me.
Show him.
One voice draws closer. A faint chord of music plays in Luca’s mind like a single violin string. A tiny pair of wings flutters near her ear.
Zero stops the beating.
“Look at that,” he says. “A butterfly flew in through the window. Didn’t know there were any left here in the Death Grid. It’s been ages.”
A blow of the chain rips at her leg. It goes limp, and she drops to her knees.
“Now that’s more like it,” Zero says. “Maybe you do feel pain. But what I want to see is fear.”
Another chord of sound joins the one playing in Luca’s mind.
“How about the voices? Are they talking to you?” Zero stops. “Strange. Another butterfly. I wonder why it’s come into your cell. Oh well. Makes a good target.”
The chain comes down again, across her shoulder where the butterfly has landed. Its crushed body flutters to the floor.
Come. All of you.
So he can understand.
The cloud of voices swims closer, and Luca opens her eyes to the outside, looking up at the moonlight through the slits in the wall. She staggers to her feet, ignoring the pain.
“So I haven’t hit you hard enough?”
Three butterflies flutter in through the slits to land on Luca’s head.
Zero lifts the chain off the floor. “What’s going on? I’ll teach those pesky bugs a lesson.”
And then, for an instant, the moonlight darkens. Luca lifts her hands, palms up.
Come.
A cloud of butterflies enters the cell and fills its interior space.
Zero stumbles backward, slamming into the door. His chain clatters to the floor.
The butterflies cover Luca’s body like a veneer of armor shimmering in the moonlight. And they keep coming, landing on the walls and ceiling.
“What’s going on?” Zero turns to open the door, but the latch has shut. Groping for his keys, he can’t find them and bangs on its metal surface with fists. “Hey, let me out! You know I can’t stand bugs!”
Luca turns to face Zero.
The butterflies begin to land on him. First on his arms and chest and then on his face.
For a few seconds, he freezes, eyes wide, barely breathing.
And then he goes crazy.
Thrashing his arms, he tries to brush the butterflies away, but they keep coming through the window, landing on his face and hair. Soon, the floor is littered with their dead bodies as he brushes them off and rips them away in handfuls.
But they keep coming.
“Stand still,” Luca says. “They won’t hurt you."
It is the first sentence she has ever spoken aloud to Zero.
“No!” he bellows. “They’re trying to kill me. They want to get back at me for what I’ve done . . . to you.”
Luca reaches out with her mind to other small voices outside the Institution.
Come to me. So he can learn to be still.
Buzzing starts outside the slits in the wall.
Zero hears it, looks up and freezes.
Wasps pour into the cell and begin to swarm around Zero. Dropping to his knees, his face is pale in the moonlight. The wasps land on his chest and neck, moving up to his face.
“Don’t move,” Luca says.
The insects lie like a carpet on Zero’s upper body. They crawl over his lips and ears. Only a small area between his forehead and his nose is bare. Looking up at Luca, he pleads with his eyes.
A symphony of voices fills her mind.
She steps closer and bends down, a smile on her face. “They don’t want to hurt you. They only want you to be still and listen.”
Trembling under the wasps and butterflies crawling on his skin, Zero opens his mouth to speak.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Listen. That’s all.”
Zero’s lips part again, as if he’s trying to think of what to say. “Listen to . . . what?”
“The voices.” Luca’s fingers stretch out to touch Zero’s forehead. "They’ll make you feel better, so you won’t have to hurt people. I promise.”
Slowly nodding, Zero’s eyes close, and he swallows.
Luca goes deep into the middle of the symphony. Gathering her strength, she folds the sound around her like a warm blanket and casts her thoughts outward, searching for Zero.
In the darkness behind her eyelids, she finds him.
His mind is a raging storm of fear and hatred, sadness and regret. Like a fiery island of violent eruptions in a sea of glass-smooth water.
She turns her attention to the sound folded around her.
Play your music for him.
With effort, she pushes into his mind. For an instant, his thoughts become her thoughts, and his inner pain tempts her to leave. But she moves forward through the chaos, searching for its center.
And then she unfolds the symphony of voices, setting them free in his mind.
Zero’s eyes shoot open to meet Luca’s gaze.
“The voices . . . they’re real.”
Smiling, Luca nods. “Just listen.”
As she keeps a hold in Zero’s mind, Luca takes in a deep breath, concentrates and casts her thoughts out in a wide web, gathering together all the voices she can find. Insects, plants, animals. The moss clinging to the outer walls of the Institution. The other girls down the hall.
All of you. Sing to him. He will hear you through me.
Slowly at first, the voices build in volume and number, each one a thread of sound in an infinite tapestry. Luca funnels all of them into Zero’s mind.
Little by little, as Luca watches, Zero relaxes into the ocean of voices. “Let it all go,” she says. “All the pain, all the unhappiness, all the anger. Let it go."
His mind is tight, holding onto his suffering as if it were a precious treasure, the source of all that gave meaning to his life.
“Trust me.” Luca presses her palm into Zero’s forehead. “Let it go."
And little by little, he does.
As the sound expands in his mind, he releases his gr
ip on the pain and fear that have filled his life and thoughts. It slips away, like water.
The music continues for minutes until the pain and fear are cast out of Zero’s mind.
Falling into a smile, Zero’s face is streaked with tears of joy. “The voices. They are real!”
It is finished, Luca thinks. You may go.
One by one, the butterflies and wasps flutter away from her, from Zero, and from the walls and ceiling. They float through the slits in the concrete to the outside, leaving Luca and Zero alone.
He looks down at the chain on the floor and brings his fingers close to his face, staring into his palms. For a time, he can’t speak.
And then the words come.
“I’m sorry for—” Still kneeling, he bows deeply, forehead touching the floor, body shaking between sobs. "I’m sorry for everything. What I did, to you and the others. All the pain I caused. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know. I didn’t believe. But now I do.” Head slowly rising, he looks into Luca’s eyes. “Will you ever be able to—?”
“Forgive?” Luca says.
“Yes.” Zero bows again. “I beg you. Please forgive me.”
“I already have.”
The door swings open on loud hinges.
The man called Giraffe stands in the dim light of the hallway, staring at Zero kneeling on the floor. “I heard you screaming. What’s going on? Is everything all right?” His gaze sweeps past the chain on the floor and up to Luca.
“Everything is fine.” Zero wipes his face with the back of his hands.
Giraffe takes a step into the cell. “She left without telling us. They’re all gone. The Superintendent. The nurses. The other guards. Everyone. Except you and me. And the girls.”
“Don’t worry,” Zero says. “We don't need them anymore.” He turns and smiles at Luca. “I finally understand.”
Giraffe stoops and picks up the chain. “What about this?”
“No more beatings.” Zero shudders. “I was wrong about the voices.”
“Wrong?”
“Open all the cells. Let the girls out. And start cooking rice. Lots of rice. Come with me, Luca. Let’s take care of those cuts.” Zero takes Luca's hand and leads her into the hallway. “It’s time for a celebration.”
“Of what?” Giraffe says.
Zero stumbles forward into the light of the hall.
“The truth.”
20
WOOZY
Here I am.
Jedd watches the gypsy cab disappear into the early morning fog of the City. He stands alone at the curb below the glare of a neon jungle, at the base of the Genesis building.
Its solid Graff exterior gleams like a geometrically perfect crystal set in a crown of multicolored jewels.
It wasn’t easy, but he made it.
Luckily he was able to empty out his life savings before Genesis Corporation put a stop on his account. With the money, Jedd could buy only the bare necessities. An unregistered jax. Fake ID. Russian pulse rifle. Water and a few nutrient packs. All riding in the bag on his back.
His job in the City is over. Life in the Fringe is over. His friendship with Ricky is over.
All of it for Qaara.
He closes his eyes. Her image forms in the darkness on the back of his lids. For an instant, he imagines himself walking into her office, gallant hero to the rescue.
I’m here Qaara. I’ve given up everything. For you.
Now he just has to find her and get away from Genesis. The problem is how to sneak into the building. Any security access he had is now revoked. Thanks to Mercer’s legendary public paranoia about corporate espionage, Genesis is the most secure office tower in the City. Twenty-four hour data surveillance inside and out. Someone is probably watching him right now as he stands outside. The haircut and fake mustache will help for a few minutes, but if he doesn’t act quickly, guards will emerge and start to ask questions. Voice and face analysis will give him away. Mercer will know he survived the bombing and will send more goons after him until the job is done.
How to get inside and find Qaara?
Then Jedd has an idea.
Maybe he doesn’t need to get inside.
Hire a rogue air transport to drop him onto the roof and use a climbing harness to rappel down. Maybe there are a few favors he can still call in to get it done.
And then what? Wave at Qaara from outside her window?
Everyone knows Graff is indestructible. And the whole building is made of it. There’s no way for him to get in or for Qaara to get out. The Wall around the City holding back the Atlantic Ocean proves that.
Noise from above startles Jedd, and he presses his back to the building. Something is descending quickly, coming closer. Falling through the air. The sound reminds him of a quick descent on a climbing line.
Craning his neck, he looks up.
A large black shadow slams into his shoulders, taking his upper body and face to the concrete. A trek-bag rolls just inches away from his eyes. Nausea expands out from his belly just before he blacks out.
He wakes to the delicate sound of a woman’s voice above him.
“Sorry about that. I’m still a bit rusty with the whole rope and harness thing. The ground came up before I expected. Guess I was coming down too fast. Hope you’re OK. It was a soft landing, at least for me.”
The familiar rhythm of the voice strikes a deep chord in his memory. Focusing on the black climbing shoes, he follows them up to ankles and knees covered in a black bodysuit. Everything black. The latest fashion in the City.
“No problem.” With effort, Jedd pushes himself to his knees, takes in a deep breath and gets to his feet, leaning on the side of the building so he doesn’t topple over. "Didn’t really expect anyone to be out at this time of—”
He stares into the woman’s eyes.
She stares back, mouth open.
Reaching out, she pulls off his fake mustache. “But you’re dead. I saw what Mercer did to your house.”
“And you’re—” Jedd glances straight up to the top of the Genesis building, two kilometers above the street.
“Qaara Kapoor,” the woman says.
“I know, but you’re—”
“Not in my office anymore, where you were spying on me.”
“How did you—” Jedd tries to put it all together, but he’s still woozy from getting knocked down and can't find the words he’s looking for.
“Look, it’s a long story.” Qaara grabs her trek-bag and swings it over her head, threading arms through loops and clicking straps tight across her chest. "One thing’s for sure. Mercer wants us both dead. Get as far away from here as you can. Good luck.” Without another word, she turns and sprints across the street.
He watches her go, his arms outstretched.
For an instant, he’s not sure what to do.
Instinct taking over, he grabs his bag, swings it over his shoulder and follows her to the other side of the road, nursing a massive headache, fighting back nausea, stumbling in a zigzag pattern, barely able to keep his balance and hold in the contents of his stomach.
Qaara stops, and Jedd slams into her back.
He falls to the pavement.
“I didn’t ask you to follow me.” She takes a step to the side. “I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself.”
The world spins around Jedd. He twists to the side. A spasm travels on a straight line between his belly and throat.
Please, not here, not now, he thinks as he retches a long stream of viscous green goo onto the pavement, then wipes his lips on his arm.
His chest heaves again, but there’s nothing left in his stomach. Trying to pull in a deep breath and recharge, he goes into a coughing fit instead, dropping to all fours on the hot street.
Keep it up, he thinks. Barfing hero to the rescue. I’m sure she’s impressed.
A few feet above them, the buzz of a thumb-sized air-drone floats down. Still unable to speak, Jedd motions to his ear and then the sky.
“
I hear it, too. Could be Mercer looking for me. By now, he must know I’m gone.” Qaara turns to leave, then stops. Looking back, her gaze jumps from the drone to Jedd. "Did you come back for me?”
Jedd nods, still unable to find the right words.
“You heard what Mercer told me, about the Cloud that’s going to swallow Earth, right? And the killer molecule that’s going to rain down and consume everything?"
“Yeah.” Jedd suppresses the urge to retch again. “All of it.”
She reaches down and pulls him to his feet, grimacing.
“What’s your name? I forgot.”
“Jedd.”
“Sorry you got involved, Jedd. This isn’t your fight. But I can’t just leave you here to be slaughtered. Come on. Looks like you need saving." Still holding Jedd’s hand, she pulls him into an alley between buildings.
Before he knows what is happening, they are both in a full sprint through the narrow gap.
Qaara is faster. Jedd can barely keep up.
Suddenly, she stops. The trek-bag slips off her body to her feet. She presses herself against the wall under a footbridge between the buildings, pulling Jedd close.
“What have you got?” She isn’t even out of breath. “Anything useful?"
“What do you mean?” Chest heaving from the run, Jedd feels the nausea slowly fade from his body.
“In your backpack. Anything useful?”
Jedd nods. “Pulse rifle. Recently printed from black- market Russian files.”
“Fully loaded?”
“Yeah, I think so. Didn’t have time to check.”
“Give it to me.”
“What?”
Qaara grabs Jedd’s waist and turns him. She zips open his pack and pulls out the two pieces of the rifle.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Jedd says.
“You’re in no condition to use a weapon.” She pulls hard on the zipper, sealing the bag. “Follow me.”
Turning to jog away, she rams the two pieces of the rifle together and twists hard until they click. Green telltales light up on the barrel. Ready to fire.
“Where are you going?” Jedd falls in place behind her. “You could get hurt with that thing.”
“Just stay close.”
