False Future (8 page)

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Authors: Dan Krokos

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Science & Technology, #Love & Romance

BOOK: False Future
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Maybe they found Peter and everyone is there.

The idea is so good it hurts. I hold on to it, as if wanting it hard enough will make it real.

 

The mood in the apartment is semi-relaxed when I come out of the elevator, and I’m immediately filled with relief.

Rhys holds up his hands. “No worries. They handed their comm units over to Noble after we left. They’ve been very cooperative. Noble was out of contact because of some reception issues, but I’ve been in touch with him. True Earth is apparently scrambling various frequencies on the island.”

“Where are the Roses?” I ask.

“Tied up in Noble’s bedroom. They’re not going anywhere.”

“And Noble and Sophia? Peter?”

Rhys frowns. “Noble and Sophia are still looking for Peter.”

I go to the sink and fill a glass with water, then hunt for food in the fridge. It’s the only action I can think of to mask my disappointment.

“Don’t worry about them,” Rhys says. “Let’s talk about the Verge. I…don’t think we should go back.”

“We’ve been out of contact for a long time, and our teammates were already suspicious,” I say. “There’s a good chance they’ll apprehend us as soon as we enter the Verge.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he says, looking relieved.

“But we have to go anyway.”

“What?”

I explain the Key to him, and what it means if the director gets her hands on it. This leads to more questions, and I tell him what Olivia told and showed me.

His already pale skin turns a cooler shade of gray. “I thought your eyes were a little red.”

“The bottom line is we need to find the Key,” I say, “then we can figure out what to do with it.”

“But why do we have to let them release the Black? Why are we supposed to
let
it happen? Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t know any more than what I told you.”

“You’re in a safe place. Why don’t you use the disk now?”

“Because I don’t know what it’s going to do to me. Olivia said it’ll disorient me, and she doesn’t know for how long. Do you agree we need to find the Key more than anything else?”

“I agree,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

I drink another glass of water in case there isn’t water to drink later. “We’re gonna need help. East could be anywhere. At least if the Roses find him and the Key before we do, being on the inside is the best chance we have of stealing it.”

Rhys’s eyes light up with an idea. “What if we just find the Originals as kids and kill them? Or beat ’em up or something. Olivia said the future is affected by changes in the past, right?”

“If you have an idea of where they are in the United States of America, that’s great. Or if you have an idea of how to get off this island, even better. But I’m sure Olivia has them protected. Besides, if they die, what would that mean for us? We’re going to have to trust Olivia until we know more. Though I use the word
trust
lightly.”

He frowns. “What I don’t get is, if the Originals are still here, living their lives before they became the Originals, then how could
we
have been here for years?”

“Because we’re from True Earth ourselves. Right?”

He lets out a low sigh. “Man, all along we’ve been living in the same world as the people who will eventually create us in the future and bring us back to now. What a time to be alive!” He says it like a joke, but I can see how it makes him feel. Rhys can guard his eyes all he wants, but I see the pain behind them. To know you’re not a person, you’re a thing…

He’s about to say more when a tinny noise comes from the countertop; I look for the source—two earpieces not so different from ours.

I take out Noble’s earpiece and put the new one in.

I hear O-9’s voice. “—back to the Verge. Getting some rack. P-230, any word yet?”

My heart jolts; O-9 doesn’t sound alarmed, yet it’s possible the team could’ve heard us speaking just now. A mistake. But Noble probably left the earpieces out knowing we would need them.

P-230 says, “Nothing.”

“This is weird,” O-9 replies.

“Guys,” N-7 says. “Give them some time. Did you notice what color their suits are? It’s not for us to decide.”

“It’s for a blue or silver suit, which is who I’m going to next if they stay off grid,” O-9 says.

“Easy there,” P-230 says.

“This is M-96,” I say.

“See?” N-7 says.

“Where have you been?” O-9 demands.

“Excuse me?” I say. Rhys quickly fits his own earpiece in. I know exactly how I’m going to play this.

The silence on the channel stretches.

“We had comm issues, which we’ve rectified now. Do you have a problem?”

Another few seconds pass, then O-9 says, “No.”

“Good. What is your status?”

“We’re supposed to be on H10 duty as of fifteen minutes ago,” P-230 says. “We’re regrouping at the Verge. Seventeen new sightings of our target, all of which need to be confirmed.”

N-7 actually laughs. “That’s a lot of buildings to burn down.”

P-230 says, “I don’t know if this is the right play. These people are going to be angry if we keep turning their buildings into molten rock.”

“We can control them,” N-7 says. “Did you forget?”

“No, of course not. But do we really want to incite an organized rebellion?”

“Leave the strategizing for the blue suits,” I say. “We’ll meet you in the dorm.”

I touch the piece in my ear and hear the channel go silent. “Hello?” I say, but there is no response. Rhys does the same.

Over Rhys’s shoulder I can see the windows on the other side of the apartment, the ones overlooking the Hudson. The glass thrums every few minutes as the attacks on the gun turrets start up again. The United States is lobbing missile after missile across the river, and the turrets are just shooting them out of the air. The Hudson is littered with floating pieces of wreckage. Parts of the river are on fire. Most of the lights in New Jersey are out, but it’s probably a precaution, the way cities in Europe would turn out the lights in World War II to make it harder for enemy pilots to hit their targets.

I don’t see any activity across the river—True Earth’s quarry is here. For now, the rest of the world seems safe.

“Let’s go,” Rhys says after watching for a moment.

I follow him back into the cold. He’d parked the Thorn on the street, between two white box trucks. A little ways past, an ambulance sits with the flashers on, strobing the buildings with red. The EMTs eye us carefully while they tend to a few injured people.

A shiver of disgust runs through me.
I’m on your side,
I want to shout to them.
I just look like the bad guy.
Then I notice three Roses in black standing on the sidewalk, next to the ambulances, watching the EMTs with folded arms. The Noah with them turns his gaze toward us, but we get into the Thorn before he tries to signal. At least the Roses are letting us tend to the wounded.

Rhys drives us back to the Verge in silence. It’s not until he’s parked next to a copse of trees that he says, “Are you ready?”

I can taste the fear in my throat, but also the relief that comes with having no other choice. This is what we have to do, if we’re going to have any chance.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Rhys puts his hand on top of mine, then curls his fingers around it. The scales from our suits scrape over one another.

“Whatever happens, you know. Blah blah blah, sentimental stuff.”

I put my other hand on top of his. “I know, Rhys. Likewise.”

We get out and enter the Verge. Rhys goes ahead of me so we’re not together. We don’t want to arouse suspicion. I stop to watch the cranes pull a Thorn from the Black, and then another. As soon as their wheels touch down, the Thorns launch from the Verge, adding to the city’s chaos. Another Thorn rises from the darkness as I climb the stairs to the elevator.

The elevator doors open, revealing a Peter. P-81, more specifically. A black suit. I make eye contact, but not for long—I feel like the lie is all over my face, and, truth be told, I don’t want to look at any Peter that isn’t mine.

The Peter actually pauses midstep, and I think,
Oh God, he knows.

But then he just moves past me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Excuse me,” he says.

“Sorry,” I say automatically, and he half turns back to me and does a kind of quick nod like,
No problemo
, before continuing on his way.

Did I just se
e
…?

I watch the back of his head, hoping he turns around again, but he doesn’t.

I stand there for ten more seconds, until someone else steps into the elevator. A different Rhys. “You coming?” he says.

“In a minute, thanks.”

He raises an eyebrow, and the doors shut. The elevator hums as it rises. I look down at the ground level, but the Peter is gone.

I replay the moment again and again in my mind. His face. His eyes, which should have been bright blue, were a deeper shade, closer to purple.

And his chin…

The little white scar on his chin, just like the one on the Peter I call my own.

S
tunned, I take the elevator to level nine. My face is flushed and my head is a little swimmy. Peter is here. It must’ve been him, even though now I’m trying to remember his chin, and it’s a little blurry….Could it be I just wanted it to be him? But no, he suspected it was me too, just from a look. That was his pause midstep—it had to be.

P-81. I have to find P-81.

When I get to the dorm, Rhys is talking to the others. N-7 nods at me.

“There you are,” Rhys says. I must look distracted, because he gives me a weird look. “I was just talking about our comm issue. They sent up new earpieces for us.”

“Hey,” I say absently.
Get your mind in the game.
“Good. I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Thanks for sharing,” P-230 says as I walk past. I don’t want to look at him right now.

In the bathroom I splash water on my face, then look at myself in the mirror. This cheek was never slashed open by Mrs. North’s sword. The scar I’d gotten used to is gone. I touch the skin there anyway. There’s a toothbrush wrapped in a plastic case with my number on it. I can’t tell if it’s been used or not, but I brush my teeth anyway for the first time since I came back. True Earth can’t even spring for electric toothbrushes.

When I come out, my teammates are playing cards again, Rhys included. Olive is reading a hardcover book on her bunk. Where did she get it? Did they stop their patrol to rob a bookstore? The whole scene is strange to me. They go out and do whatever they’re supposed to do—melt buildings, scan people, hurt people, whatever—and then come back and play cards to kill time? I want to scream
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
at the top of my lungs.

“Schedule change,” N-7 says to me. “We’ve got another hour before next patrol.”

“We should sleep,” P-230 says.


Should
is the key word there,” N-7 replies.

They’re just talking like nothing is happening. Before I was able to accept it as weird, but now it’s a live wire touching my skin. I’m so angry my right hand starts shaking, so I ball it into a fist, then hide it behind my back. N-7 is eyeing me weirdly.

“I’ll be back,” I say, then march to the door before anyone can object. Really smooth. I shut the door behind me and press my back to the wall next to our room as clones walk by on my level. Two Mirandas carry a huge plastic tank with
H10
labeled on the side. I want to make them drink it. Then, blessedly, I am by myself.

The door opens, and N-7 steps out. He looks both ways, as if checking to see if we’re alone, and I stiffen. Before I know what’s actually happening, he leans in and kisses me. I shove him away with both hands.

“Em, what are you doing?” he says. He isn’t angry, more like astonished. He’s breathing heavily, with these bewildered eyes, an expression I’ve never seen on the Noah I knew.

M-96 and N-7 must be “together,” whatever that means for these people.

“You know, I didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve been ridiculous since the promotion. You and Thirty-four both.” His eyebrows go up. “What is it, we’re not good enough for you now?”

There goes my hope that the team was unfamiliar with one another.

“I’m sorry.” It sounds weak. I try to recover with, “Just not here.”

“No, really, what was that? What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
I’m just in my third body that I know of, behind enemy lines with the two remaining members of my team, one of whom is unaccounted for.

“I’m worried about you,” he says softly. “You’ve been weird since we got here.”

I believe him; the worry in his eyes is right there for me to see. Now he reminds me of the Noah I lost.

My arm buzzes before he can reply. The display says
NEXT PATROL: 52 MINUTES. REPORT TO QUARTERMASTER FOR H10 RESUPPLY.

“Come inside and talk to me,” he says.

“No time,” I say, holding up my arm to show him.

“Then later for sure. Promise me.”

“Fine,” I say, then start to walk away.

“Hang on, we’ll go to the quartermaster together,” he says.

I wave a hand. “I’ll meet you there. I just want a minute alone.” When I look over my shoulder, he’s going back into the dorm. I feel a pang of guilt in my stomach for leaving Rhys, but I know he can handle himself.

I take the elevator back to the bottom level, then go up to the little kiosk. I type in
P-81
. The screen says
TEAM 27
,
LEVEL 12
,
DORM 12
. My palms start sweating. A new copy of my Alpha team crawls out of the Black, all of them in white armor. They nod deferentially to me, then visit the kiosk while the Miranda on their team looks up their dorm number.

“This is exciting,” the Olive says to me, and I almost throw her back into the Black.

I find myself standing in place again, feet rooted to the floor. If I’m right, then Peter would know I’d come looking for him. I could visit his dorm without too many questions being asked because my suit is red.

I make a decision and instantly feel better. I almost skip back to the elevator.
How observant are you, Peter?
I can’t shake the feeling that he recognized me, that he
knew
me, even though the scar on my cheek is gone.

The elevator takes me to level twelve, and I find dorm twelve easily enough. The door is open. Inside is a dorm room identical to mine. Peter is sitting on his bed, hands on his knees. His head turns as I freeze in the doorway. We’re alone.

“Can I help you?” he says, eyeing the badge on my chest. “You might have the wrong room.”

“I…”

I’m too far away to see his chin.

“Yes?”

“P-81,” I say, my voice so dry it comes out like a whisper. “P-81,” I say again, stronger.

“That’s my number, yes. Am I in trouble?”

I shut the door behind me. “No, nothing like that.” I can feel my pulse thumping in my neck. I nod toward the bathroom. “Could you come with me?”

He’s got his guard up, but I see the question in his eyes, the tiny sparkle of hope. His lips part. I pass him and walk into the bathroom. He follows cautiously, hands free and loose at his sides, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“Is something wrong with my team?” he says.

I shut the door behind us and keep my hand on it. This is a gamble. Everything could be undone because of this. And it’s not just me in danger here, but Rhys too.
Say you made a mistake. Leave. Wrong level, wrong dorm.

“Why won’t you answer me?” he says.

I turn to him.

I see the scar.

“You know me,” I say.

He can’t hide the reaction. Instantly he swallows hard and starts blinking, and his purple-blue eyes get shiny. He pretends to cough.

“Oh yeah?” he says. “I don’t recognize your number.” Still being cautious.

“Peter…” I say.

He lunges for me, but not to attack. His hands catch me under the arms and he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as my back hits the wall. His mouth crashes into mine so hard our teeth click and I taste blood from his lip, and then I feel wetness from his eyes on my cheeks. His legs are shaking, and he’s pushing me against the wall so hard I can’t breathe, but I don’t want to breathe. What is breath, anyway?

We kiss for a long time. I don’t know how long. I should probably know. But I don’t care. Somehow his mouth tastes like spearmint, like the toothpaste I just used. At one point we don’t move our lips, just keep them pressed together while we hold each other, breathing hard through our noses.

He pulls back to look into my eyes. “I knew it was you. At the elevator. I knew it. I don’t know how, but I did.” He swallows. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to come back. It’s not right.”

Right now I am very glad to be alive.

“This is right.”

He kisses me again, lightly. There is some blood on his upper lip. I wipe it away with my thumb and hold his face. I can feel his pulse under my hand, strong and steady, and the heat in his skin. There is a war outside and I don’t want to fight it. I want to stay here, with him.

“This is dangerous,” he says.

“I don’t care. Where have you
been
?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been there for you. But I saw an opening and I took it. I thought I could learn more on the inside.”

“Have you?”

“Nothing that will help us win. The others have to be worried sick. I had twelve seconds to take this Peter’s place. No time to let Noble know what I was doing. I tried using the radio later, and it was ja—”

I silence him with a kiss.

“They’ll get over it.”

I kiss him again. It doesn’t matter now. He’s here, alive.

But then I hear the door to room twelve hiss open.

We both hesitate, unsure of how to play it. Then I make a snap decision and shove him toward the door, while I slide into the farthest bathroom stall, one of three. The walls of the stall go from floor to ceiling. Peter grabs my arm again. He pulls me into a quick embrace and kisses me, hard and fast.

“Just in case,” he whispers.

“Go!”

I shut the door as quietly as I can. The door has a gap in the bottom, about a foot tall, and anyone could see over the top if they jumped up. The toilet is filled with green liquid. I step onto the seat, lips buzzing from Peter’s kiss. My breath sounds loud even through my nose. Outside the bathroom I hear Peter talking to someone. Casual voices, though I can’t make out any words.

Two seconds later the bathroom door opens. I hear nearly silent feet against the floor, a rustle of hair—meaning it’s either a Miranda or an Olive—and then nothing. For five whole seconds. The Rose has gone completely still. I hold my breath.

Then, a sniff.

The Rose is sniffing the air. I’ve been sweating, but I don’t know if I smell. My hair doesn’t hold a shampoo scent because I haven’t showered since the tank. Maybe she’s just been outside and has the sniffles.

My chest is burning red hot, so I exhale as quietly as possible. I can still hear it, though, and it sounds like I’m blowing out a tornado in the silence. I inhale long and slowly.

The Rose clears her throat, then goes into the stall right next to me. I hear her put the seat down, and then a few muted metallic sounds as she peels her suit away. After she finishes, she runs the sink and leaves.

I take another breath, wanting to collapse. It was so stupid to come here, yet I still can’t regret it. Minutes pass while I wait for Peter to return, and I start getting antsy. I finally step off the seat and stretch.

Peter comes in a moment later. He doesn’t say anything, just opens the stall door and wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“Who was it?”

“The Olive on my team. O-620. She actually seems okay, somehow.”

“That’s weird,” I say, because I know what he means and there’s nothing else to say about it.

“You should leave now.” He squeezes his arm a little tighter, pulling me closer. “Not that I want you to leave, because I definitely do not want that. But we’ll meet up later.”

“Of course. You’ll be safe?”

He kisses me again instead of answering. His fingers find the seam in my suit at the top of my neck, but I catch his hands.

“Not if you want me to leave anytime soon,” I say.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He’s staring at me in wonder.

“Does it matter that I’m not the same?”

“No. It didn’t matter the first time. Does it matter to you?”

“I wasn’t sure before. But…now I’m happy.” And I really mean it. Maybe I can look at this like another chance at life. My sacrifice doesn’t have to be a waste, it can just be another step in this war. I
know
I’m not the same person. That person died in a horrible way, literally blown to pieces after getting torn apart by monsters, but…somehow I
am
her at the same time. I am me. I know this when I close my eyes.

“Good, I want you to stay happy. We need to find East and stop this. And then we’re taking off, where no one can find us.”

It sounds so good I actually shiver.

“I met with Olivia, the Original Olivia,” I say, bringing us back to the task at hand. He needs to be briefed.

“I talked to her too, but not for long. She knew it was me. She told me what’s happening, as far as what True Earth is trying to do here. She told me to be careful, but I’m not about to stop looking for the Key. We can’t just let them do whatever they want. Not until we figure out what could happen.”

“I’m worried. She’s not telling us the whole story. Should we trust her?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But she knows how to find us, and we’re not in custody, so…”

I’m not convinced, but I’m not sure what else to do at the moment. So I just say, “Great. Then we’ll save the day and get on with our lives.”

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