Divided (21 page)

Chord doesn’t say anything right away, and I’m not sure what to say, either. Finally I manage, “You know it has to be me in the end, don’t you?”

Chord’s eyes are darker than normal, braced for what he knows must come next, what can’t be changed. “Yeah, I got that.”

“You know I can do it.” This is what he needs to hear.

“I have no doubt you can do it, West,” he says. “But you’re asking me to do something I don’t know I can do. To sit and wait and
do absolutely nothing.
”

“You just said I’ll be okay.”

“And if you’re not, then I might not be.”

I grab his hand. “ ‘How can I have so much faith in you, when you have so little?’ Do you remember saying those exact words to me once?” The night before I killed my Alt. When Chord and I hung in the balance, too.

Chord leans his forehead down on mine. “That’s not something I could ever forget.”

“Then don’t.” I kiss him, and it’s supposed to be good-bye.

Because it’s here and now when I would do what I normally do. Break off and run. Not just for his sake, the way I would tell myself, but also for mine.

I need your help.
Saying those words to Auden earlier, the shape and feel of them seemed foreign to me, another language altogether. And it’s true that I can’t remember the last time I said them out loud, if I ever did. But now I realize I have said them before—to Chord, in other ways, not lesser, just different.

I pull back just enough so he can see my face. And the words definitely come easier this time. “Please don’t go yet. Not when I need your help. Not when I need you.”

Chord’s hands in my hair, pulling me even closer. He kisses me, so slowly and thoroughly that it makes me cry, and I know he understands. And when he finally releases me, it doesn’t hurt quite so much because I know it’s not for good. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then we better hurry. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

By the time we climbed out of Dire’s car in Leyton, a light rain had started.

And it’s still raining now, minutes later, with no sign of Baer. He’s supposed to meet us here, and he’s barely even late, but my nerves are shot.

I shiver inside my damp jacket, and beside me I can feel Chord doing the same. Here in the alley between two clean, sheer walls of two nameless, glossy office buildings deep in Leyton Ward, there is no overhang or awning to hide under. Just the dark of night as it slowly draws closer toward dawn.

Across the street is Board headquarters, and while the city sleeps, there’s only the regular grind of wheels against the track as trains move in and out, the smooth whir of cars driving down roads, the occasional siren of a clearing truck.

“Time,” Chord mutters into the night air, his eyes busy watching both the main entrance and the street for Baer.

04:13

He shakes his head. “Baer should be—Wait, here he comes.”

The sound of footsteps on pavement and Baer ducks into the alleyway next to us. He slicks rain off his near-shaven head and gives us a baleful look in greeting. He is not amused at the time. “Auden’s back at the Grid, I hope.”

“Still at Dire’s,” Chord says.

“Good. He’s probably going insane having to share close quarters with Dire for so long, but we’re almost done here.” Baer turns to me. “You ready, Grayer?” he asks, gruff as always, though I don’t miss the underlying tension in his words.

“Yes.” Too hard to say any more when terror is brimming in my blood, a stampede of nerves and dread.

“Remember this: they might be Alts of the Board, but you’re a weaponry instructor, and a striker.” Now Baer’s voice softens a bit, a rarity in itself and yet another reminder of just how bleak the situation is. “Go in there knowing you’re their equal.”

“But I won’t be their equal,” I say to him. “I
can’t
be. You know killing them means losing Dess, too. And backing off when they’re going to be doing the oppo—”

“All these months of being a complete and working for me and you still question?” He frowns, and the hint of disappointment there is worse than any frustration. “That part of you—whether it’s technical skill or instinct—that lets you kill is the same that knows when to show mercy. How you decide to use it is up to you.”

All of this a feverish drone in my head, so I can only nod.
Yes.

“Auden gave you the key code for the back entrance?” Baer asks Chord.

“It’s on my cell. We have his number, too, in case something goes wrong. You sure you remember the layout of the place?”

Baer peers over, takes in the sight of headquarters. I know he spent years of his life there, would be there still if he hadn’t felt his passion for the Board slip away. “It’s been a long time since I wanted to think of that building, let alone retrace the paths inside. But unless they tore the interior walls down and rebuilt them again, it won’t take that long for the place to come back to me. Everything’s centered around that damned elevator.”

“Okay. Remember we have to find Sabian in there and make sure he stays put. We can’t have him suspect something’s going on.” Chord’s jaw goes tight. “It has to play out, all the way. Or it’s not going to end for West.”

Baer pulls out a gun from his jacket pocket. I recognize it from weaponry class, and I wonder if that’s what took Baer the few extra minutes to get here. He hands it to Chord. “While we’re making our way through.”

As Chord pockets it, Baer turns to me again, and when he speaks, that softness is gone from his voice. As though he knows it’s not what I need to hear from him right now. “You’re a complete, Grayer—don’t waste that. And those Alts in there are only completes by your hand. That stands for something.”

“Their Alts were nothing like them. It doesn’t even compare.”

“Don’t be so quick to decide that. How do you think it feels to be them? Knowing they have to defeat someone who’s already defeated parts of themselves? This isn’t just a battle of muscles and reflexes, but a game of the minds as well. Can you remember that?”

His words hit close to home. “Yes.”

“I’ll be waiting over there for Chord. Don’t take too long, Grayer—either out here or in there.” With that he crosses the street and veers off toward the back of the main building where he and Chord are going to get inside and find their way to Sabian. Where Sabian is, Dess will be, too.

The rain’s getting harder, and it sprinkles my lashes as I look up at Chord, doubling him. I blink the image away. Already enough memories of Alts to deal with. And if this is the last time I see Chord, he’s only the one I want to see.

“So this is it,” he says softly. “Are you ready?”

Instinct kicks in and I start to shake my head, but I make myself stop. “I have to be.”

“That’s not exactly the right answer.”

I push my hood off so I can see him better. I don’t even care if I’m spotted now; an idle out here is less danger than the Alts in there. For this good-bye, we’re as alone as we’re ever going to be. “I will be ready, then.”

“Not just for Dess or me. But for
you,
right?”

Rain running through my hair now, streaming down my face and trickling into my mouth. Only the fact that it’s salty tells me I’m crying.

“I’m so scared of screwing up, Chord.” And of dying. Or not dying and coming back more striker than anything else.

“I think it’s better than not being scared at all. Because it means you know the stakes and it’ll just make you think twice before doing something stupid.” He takes my hands, touches my marks with his fingers. “These are you, but it’s not all you are. You know that. It’s that simple.”

I lean into him, and we’re touching, and the sudden want and need for things to be right again is overwhelming and ferocious. Like a cleansing fire, or a giant breath being released, it calms and steadies me.

“You and Baer keep Dess safe, all right?” I say to Chord against his neck. “Just keep him away until I’m done.”

“Dess will be fine.” His words are rough. Too full, about to break.

“And you, too. Don’t … save me.”

A ragged sigh before he nods. Understanding does not make it any easier. “West, be careful. Please.”

My hand on the back of his neck brings his mouth to mine, and our kiss is both too much and not enough. How else to describe something that hurts even as it loves?

I make myself let go. I push his hair, soaked from the rain, off his face and do my best to not see the grief there. “You go first. Baer’s waiting at the back entrance for the key code.”

One final heated glance and he turns away. I watch him slowly disappear into a dark that’s close to lifting. And though I can’t see him anymore, I know he won’t be far. Chord, Baer, and Dire back at the Grid are like a safety net laid all around me, and I’m still learning that it’s okay to fall.

I run across the street and head off in the direction of the northeast wing—the training wing. If it’s logic that tells me Bryn and Hollis won’t be sleeping while getting ready for a completion, then it’s gut instinct leading me to where they
would
go. They have the advantage of numbers and space, while I only have surprise. It can’t be wasted.

I have to enter through the end of the wing, as far away as possible from the main structure and the residences, for two reasons. First, Sabian’s too smart to break routine, and if he’s even remotely human, he’ll be asleep at this time of night. Except he’ll only be pretending to sleep, being forced to keep an eye on Dess, and at the same time making sure the rest of the Board stays unaware. While this is good because it means Chord and Baer won’t have to deal with other Operators, it’s bad because if Sabian is outnumbered, he might feel cornered. And cornered animals never back down.

Second, if
I’m
cornered, I have no choice
but
to back down. Going from lobby to wing leaves me wide open to be tracked from the rest of the building; coming in from the opposite direction means only having to worry about each room as I cross.

If my gut instinct is right about them being in this training wing at all. Otherwise they could be anywhere and I will truly be in enemy territory. Just as much chance of them stumbling upon me as I would them. Advantage lost.

I reach the door at the end of the wing. From memory, I tap the key code Auden gave me into the lock plate above the doorknob. The lock clicks free.

Inside. The filtered air is cool and scentless in my nose. The hallway is empty.

But not fully dark. Light is hard to contain. It’s like air, or dust, and right now there’s a sliver of light along the bottom of one of the steel panel doors down the hall. Bryn, Hollis, or both must be here.

When I get to the light, I immediately know what room is behind the door. It hasn’t been that long since I was last in there, after all. The only place where my Alt could ever come back to life.

All those mirrors inside.

I put my hand on the door. The cool steel against the heat of my marks anchors me to this place, this moment. In my other hand is my gun. I have to remember to aim low and wide—the opposite of everything I’ve learned. To avoid head and torso and aim for a limb.

The door is open a tiny crack, just a skinny slant of light. As I step in front of it, it cuts across my face, blurring my vision as it splits me into two.

Quickly, I lean against the door, listening. No sound except my own pulse beating in my ears, reverberating against the steel my skull is pressed against.

I do what no complete ever wants to do, should ever have to do: I slide the door open and walk knowingly into danger. My gun held low, cowed and restrained.

But the room is empty.

Except for the maze, of course. The replication system still has to be triggered, but from here the effect of so many mirrors so close together produces a dizzying effect on its own. Ceiling and floor and everything in between doubling, folding in on itself.

Footsteps behind me.

I hit the maze at a run. My breath is tight and hot in my lungs as I yank out my key-code disrupter from my pocket, press it against my striker marks on my wrist, and slam both against the control panel at the maze’s entrance.

There’s an audible click from the panel, then a series of beeps, and that’s all I have time for. I drop my hand, shove the disrupter back into my pocket, and dive between the mirrored panels just inside the entrance. And hide.

My reflections are all around, and already there’s too many others of me, Alt upon Alt. I sink into a crouch and wait. Let my breath out in a soundless stream of air that fogs the mirror in front of me. The soft smear of condensation is the only thing that separates my reflection from the others, and I shiver.

Because I also did not miss the soft whir in my ears as I dove past the entrance, or the bright flash of light across my eyes. And behind the now fading spot of moisture on the mirror, I can see her—my newly replicated Alt.

I turn around. Her coiled eyes are nothing like mine, but the rest of the face is an exact match, and it makes my skin ripple with goose bumps. She’s crouched over as well, waiting for me to act so she can start the chase.

If
I’d managed to reset the program.

The soft footsteps I heard in the hall now stop in the doorway to the room, and I know it’s Bryn. When she speaks, her voice is more controlled than it was back in the empty. More like her father’s. “I know you’re here. There are wet footprints on the ground.”

I swear silently to myself and at Bryn for pointing out how I’ve already made a mistake. My eyes half on my still-dormant Alt, I slip off my shoes and socks and kick them to the side. Bare feet have more traction than slippery cotton. The ground is cool, but not cold. My Alt stands up in reaction to my movements, and her reflections ripple in the mirrors surrounding her. It’s almost difficult to see where mine end and hers begin and I suppose that is meant to be a good thing, considering the purpose of this place.

Even as I hear Bryn move closer toward the maze’s entrance, I’m already turning and beginning to run toward the far end.

Nearly two thousand square feet in size,
Sabian had said when he first showed me this place. It’s all the space I have in which to show my Alt what to do, what needs to be done.

The more engaged you are in the training session, the faster she learns.
And so I let my fear break loose, no use hiding it—my heartbeat is a drum, my pulse wild in my veins, each step of mine spurring on one of hers.

I need my Alt to learn how to chase.

The maze’s paths aren’t the least bit straight—mirrored panels turn and twist, making me think of how a snake moves along the ground. I weave among my reflections, our long dark hair streaming everywhere, our faces winking in and out of sight … and the whole while, my Alt keeps pace behind me. Not quite fast enough, though … still learning.

“Grayer?” I hear Bryn yell from the mouth of the maze that falls farther and farther away as I keep running. She is indignant, angry. “I’m not stupid—I’m not going to be distracted by a program!”

I stop to test my Alt and when she slows to a near stop and gives no sign of trying to make contact with me to put an end to the chase, I know she’s not ready yet. From somewhere behind me there’s the sound of Bryn’s footsteps. She’s moving through the maze now, given away by the light brush of leather soles against concrete, matching the ins and outs of my own uneven breathing.

With panic wanting to dig its way through me, I yank my cell from my pocket with a hand that’s surprisingly steady. I tap the cell awake and hurriedly type in three short words. But I don’t hit
send
—not yet.

Cell in hand, I keep going, turning right and then left and then right again, telling myself I know exactly where I am in the maze even as I will my Alt to absorb the jagged emotion of my wild, unchecked steps. Our reflections fly by in blurs, patches of wavy color that chase us along the mirrors. My gun is in my other hand, drawn but deliberately pointed straight down at the ground, my finger just outside the finger guard. The worst possible thing would be getting caught by surprise and shooting Bryn out of reflex. Reflex for me is aiming to kill.