“No. No way. That’s the last place you need to go.” Jack glares at me.
“I know,” I say. “But I need to go into a reverie. If I could think about this while I was in a reverie, I could make sense out of it.” I’ve spent far too long exploring other people’s minds in reveries. It’s time I explored my own.
“You can’t go back to Reverie.” Jack says this as if it’s a command. My back stiffens. Sensing my disagreement, Jack quickly adds, “But I know where there’s another reverie chamber you can use.” I quirk up an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “At your father’s old lab.”
“The one that blew up?”
Jack shakes his head. “Only one room was damaged. The laboratory facilities are huge, built underneath Triumph Towers.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, because it’s going to be a lot simpler to break into the world’s most secure building than to sneak into my own home.”
“They expect you to go back home,” Julie says.
“But they’ll never expect us to break into the labs at Triumph Towers,” Jack counters.
“Because that’s insane.” Julie leans over the table toward me, a glint in her eye that I’m not sure is disbelief or approval.
“We need someone on the inside…” Jack mutters. “We need someone in the UC, or at least in the labs, that can get us in. That would be the simplest way.”
Xavier shakes his head. “Julie reached out to some contacts, but we’re having trouble finding anyone who’ll help us.”
Jack frowns. “But what about—”
“The android attack was effective.”
Xavier explains. While the exploding androids seemed random and many innocent civilians were killed, most of the androids that exploded were not random at all. It wasn’t just Representative Belles who was affected. There were others. Contacts that had remained loyal to the Zunzana were either killed or directly affected by the android attack. Friendlies who are scared aren’t friendly any more. Everywhere Julie and Xavier went, all they got were warnings and closed doors.
When he quits talking, silence envelops us. It’s hard for me to understand the power that PA Young has, and how effective it is. This is all another form of manipulation. Separate us, make us believe we’re alone, and what else can we do but give up?
A sunbeam trails between the curtains of the window, all orange and green from the trees outside.
“I think I might have the connection we need,” I say.
Julie delivers the message for me while Jack and I make our way as inconspicuously as possible back into the heart of New Venice. When we reach Central Gardens, we go straight to the groveyard, to Dad’s grave.
And then we wait.
It’s not long before Representative Belles shows up.
“It worked,” Jack mutters. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
“Jack?” Representative Belles says, anger in his voice. “I told you never to contact me again; your organization is too risky.” I leap up, noticing that the representative’s hand is already on his cuff, poised to call for aid. Then his eyes fall on me. “Ella Shepherd,” he says, his voice low. “They say you were kidnapped. There’s a reward for you.”
“I think we both know I wasn’t kidnapped,” I say flatly. “Just like we both know the death of your wife and daughter was no accident.”
“I didn’t even do anything,” Representative Belles says in a low, emotionless voice. “All I did was think about opposing the PA, and she had them killed. Make an example of me, that’s what she said.” His eyes meet mine, and they are empty, like the hole in the world where Valetta once stood. “I still have Marcos, though,” the representative says, referring to his son. “And I can’t risk him, too. Don’t contact me again.”
He turns on his heels, practically running in an effort to distance himself from us.
“She killed half your family!” Jack calls out, and the representative pauses. “Don’t you want revenge?”
Representative Belles turns, his eyes blazing. “No,” he says vehemently. “I just want to save the only family I have left.” A wild look passes over his face as his eyes dart left and right. I’m glad I picked the groveyard as the meeting spot; there’s no one here to disturb us and raise his suspicions further. “Have you seen what they do in the labs?” He continues in a lower voice. “How they can control anything… anyone…?” His eyes lose focus, then his head whips around to me. “I still have my son. I’m not taking any risks. Leave me alone. Don’t contact me.”
Jack lunges forward, trying to grab the representative, but he whirls out of his grip. Without thinking, I shout, “Do you know how my dad died?” The words twist out of me, bursting violently from my lips.
Both the men freeze and turn to me.
“Your dad?” Representative Belles says. For the first time, I recognize his Spanish accent, so heavy in his reveries but nearly gone in real life.
I point to the holly tree. “My father, Philip Shepherd.”
The representative and Jack both stare at me, waiting for me to continue.
“They killed him,” I say, and as I speak the words, I realize for the first time that my beliefs have shifted. Faceless terrorists didn’t kill my father. Prime Administrator Hwa Young did, just as she killed Jack’s parents, and the representative’s family. Just as she has killed every single person who has ever stood in her way.
“He objected to what the government was doing with his research—research so top secret that we don’t even know what, exactly, was happening. Just that… it hurt people.”
I take a few steps closer to the representative. He no longer looks as if he will run away. He is frozen in his fear.
“I saw him die,” I say, my eyes never leaving the representative’s. “I saw the bomb tear him apart. But I’m still going to fight the PA. Because he can’t, not any more.” I struggle to recall what the representative’s grandfather told him in his last reverie, but the words I speak ring with my own truth. “I fight for him. I fight for my family. Because family is never really gone.”
Something inside the representative breaks. He doesn’t move, but there’s something in his eyes, something that gives me hope.
“I can’t join the Zunzana,” he says, his voice pleading. “It’s too dangerous. The PA knows everyone who joins, and they… they disappear.”
“I know,” Jack growls.
“We don’t need you to join us,” I say. “But can you get us into the labs? The labs where my father worked?” As soon as I say the words, I know they were the right ones. My eyes dip down to Dad’s memorial plaque. Truth doesn’t lie in the heart of fortune… it’s under Triumph Towers, where the labs are.
fifty-five
An android delivers a message to the safe house that night.
“He was scared,” Jack growls, looking down at the envelope in his hands. “He might try to rabbit.”
I shake my head as I open the envelope. Two identification badges spill out—one for me, one for Jack. Two cuffLINKS drop out next, followed by two fingerprint pads. I press my finger against the skin-colored slip of silicone and it sticks to me, giving me a new, fake fingerprint.
I examine the cuffLINKs. These are fancy, more advanced than any of the ones I’d had before. Representative Belles said that all the labs are marked with tap-touch locks, something Jack confirmed from his time in the labs. To get in, we have to tap approved cuffs against the locks, then touch the fingerprint scanner by the lock. At any point, the plan may fail. Someone could notice the fingerprint pads, or the cuffs may malfunction. And we’ll already look suspicious enough, two teenagers entering the labs at dark.
Still—I’m hopeful it’ll work. Representative Belles could have reported us—or even just me. But he didn’t. He thinks this will work.
“We go in tonight,” Jack says. “The sooner we get to the labs, the better.”
Part of me wants to wait, plan everything, slow down. But he’s right. We need to go in now, while
we still can.
Jack looks at me. “Do you really need a reverie?” he asks. “This seems like… it’s a ridiculous amount of risk, just to plug you into a reverie machine. It’d be quicker to go in, find what we can at the labs, and leave.”
I bite my lip. It’s more than that. For the first time in a long time, I feel like what I’m doing is right. I guess it’s a gut feeling; but I’ve never had one so strong. It reminds me of how I felt when I followed Dad in the map program that led me to Jack. And, well… he led me to where I needed to be.
And besides— “In all my past reveries, I’ve seen Dad,” I say. In the hallucinations, too. Jack’s full attention is on me. I think about the last reverie with Representative Belles, the one that threatened to engulf me. “He’s trying to tell me something.”
“Ella… he’s dead.” I hate the blunt way he says the truth.
“I forgot you, didn’t I?” I snap at him. “Isn’t it possible that I’ve also forgotten something Dad told me?”
Jack frowns.
Ella, wake up. I thought he meant that I had to wake
up from the reveries I was in, but what if Dad needed me to wake up from the idyllic life I’d been living? What if he needed me to break through the lost memories?
“I’m sure—I know—if I can just get one more reverie, now that I’ve learned so much, I can figure out what he needs me to know. Dreamscapes are confusing; there’s a lot to sort through in a person’s mind. But I have something to focus on now.” When Jack hesitates, I snatch up one of the burner cuffLINKs Representative Belles sent over and snap it on my wrist. “I’ll go by myself if I have to.”
“I’m definitely coming too,” Jack says immediately, grabbing the other cuff.
“It’s honestly more dangerous for you,” I say. “If I get caught, I’m valuable. They want to use me… for something. But if you get caught…”
The Prime Administrator has a way of making people she dislikes disappear.
“You’re right,” Jack says. “I think there’s more to the labs. Your father’s work was obviously important to the UC. You get your reverie; I’m going to try to access his data files. If we can figure out just what the government wants, then we have a chance of preventing them from getting it.”
“Tonight,” I say.
Jack nods. “Tonight.”
Jack gets us janitorial uniforms. He also has a pair of lab coats folded up into small squares and stuffed in the waistband of our pants, hidden by the too-large, button-up work shirts. The first goal is to get in without raising suspicion; the second is to blend into the labs so it looks like we belong.
The entrance to the lab is through the main tower—the one were the Prime Administrator works. We fall in line with a group of custodial workers, and a security guard by the door scrutinizes our ID badges. We have to tap our cuffs against a scanner before we can board the lift. Jack goes first. He keeps his sleeve pulled down over his arm as much as possible. My breath catches when the scanner processes his information, but then it beeps and flashes green. He gets on the lift.
A few more people go by, then I approach the scanner. I tap my cuff against it, and look up just as Jack’s lift doors close. He opens his mouth—but he can’t say anything. He can’t call attention to himself. The lift descends, taking Jack away from me.
“Go on,” one of the workers behind me after the scanner light flashes green. I file through the doors and rush into the waiting lift. Twelve more people scan in and get on the lift before the doors close. It’s an excruciatingly long time. Jack can’t just wait for me at the bottom. He’s probably already in the lab now.
Unless he’s already been caught.
The lift jerks to a start and begins to descend. There are no buttons—this lift is specific to the laboratories, and works automatically. The lift jerks to a start and begins to descend. My ears pop, and I start to count the seconds it takes for us to fall. Ten seconds… fifteen… twenty… thirty… a full minute passes, and we’re still falling. Just how far beneath the Earth are the labs?
Far enough for an explosion to happen, one big enough to kill my father and four other people, and not disrupt the daily operations of Triumph Towers.
But the lift couldn’t possibly descend so far—New Venice is built on a bridge. There’s nowhere for the lift to go. And then I realize where the labs really are. This lift must go through one of the pillars that supports the bridge. We’re not just below Triumph Towers—we’re below New Venice. We’re below the sea. This lab was built so far underground that it’s beneath the waters of the Mediterranean.
The doors slide open with a soft whoosh, and the workers in front of me file off the lift. A guard stands by the doors, examining every badge. I look down, making sure my badge shows, and try not to make eye contact or call attention to myself.
Giant steel doors stand opposite the lifts. Everyone must go in one at a time, after scanning the cuffLINK and fingerprint scanner. I shove my hand in my pocket, working the fingerprint pads on my fingers as I try to will myself invisible in the crowd of workers, hoping and praying the guard doesn’t notice me.
One-by-one, the workers tap the scanner and press their finger against the touchpad. The doors beep, the person enters, the next moves forward and taps and touches.
The guard shifts behind me, cocking his head, listening to the earclip in his left ear. His eyes scan the remaining workers in front of me. I shuffle forward. The guard’s eyes rest on me. The person in front of me steps through the giant steel doors. The guard’s gaze intensifies, and he steps toward.
Tap-touch. I move quickly. The doors whisk open and I step through.
fifty-six
I blink in the blindingly white lab. Bright solar glass lights illuminate the wide hallway, with frosted glass doors on either side.
Jack is nowhere to be seen.
I’d been relying on him and his knowledge of the lab—and we’d both been hoping that the lab hadn’t changed too much since he left it. Of course I memorized a map, but it feels strange here, without Jack. I take a few tentative steps forward, and one of the other workers stares at me. I can’t hesitate. If I look like I don’t belong, they’ll realize that I really shouldn’t be here. I have to move forward. I have to pretend like I know where I’m going.
I stride forward purposefully. My eyes flick back and forth—there are small black-and-gold placards by each door. Some have names on them—Dr. Adams, Dr. Martin, Dr. Ashby. Most are labeled with the type of research that happens behind the door. Biological weaponry. Virus manufacturing. Solar energy. Solar weaponry.
A door behind me bursts open, and I turn, surprised, just as an arm grabs me and yanks me into a lab. I open my mouth, a gasp already rising in my throat, and a hand clamps over my face.
“It’s me,” Jack growls. He spins me around, and I gape at him. He’s discarded his custodial uniform and wears the lab coat he snuck inside. “Damn, I was worried,” he continues. “When we got separated…”
I swallow down my racing heart. “Where are we?”
I’d expected another research room, but this door has opened into a hallway. “Android sciences,” Jack says. “So far, it looks like nothing much has changed since I worked here.”
“Good,” I say. I shimmy out of the uniform shirt—my black tank top underneath is disgustingly dirty—and slip on my own lab coat. Jack examines my appearance, and it seems to satisfy his critical eye.
“This way,” he says.
Even though we’re here at night, there are still plenty of people around. We walk down the hallway as if we own the place. Jack nods at people we pass, although we’re careful not to make real eye contact and invite conversation. When we reach a door labeled “Nanorobotics & Artificial Intelligence,” Jack puts his hand on the door.
It doesn’t open.
“Shit,” he mumbles. I knock his hand aside, pointing to the tap-touch lock. An extra layer of security for this lab. For Dad’s lab.
We both scan in, a
nd the door opens. The lights automatically cut on in front of us—at least no one is already inside. I feel Jack start to relax. I think he expected trouble.
This lab has several more frosted glass doors in the far wall, each one neatly labeled. We’re clearly at the hub of the android and nanorobotic research. One door—also with a tap-touch lock—is labeled CYBORG-CLONE DEVELOPMENT.
Another is ANDROID ENGINEERING, then AI RESEARCH and NANOROBOTICS. The door to the far left is REVERIE TRANSFER. Beside it is a door—the only one without a window—labeled KTENOLOGY.
Jack stares, open-mouthed. “This is so different,” he says in a low voice. “I mean, not these—” he indicates the android, AI, and nanobot doors, “—but these other ones. They’re all brand new. What even is ktenology?”
I don’t answer him. I’m distracted by the first door, the way the words barely fit on the label. I approach it slowly. Jack reaches for me, but I’m just a step away.
“We should go here,” he starts, heading toward the door marked REVERIE TRANSFER.
I raise my hand, examining the CYBORG-CLONE DEVELOPMENT door. I cover up the “borg” part of the label.
CYBORG-CLONE
“Cyclone,” I whisper.
“What?” Jack asks.
I put my hand on the lock.
“Wait!” Jack hisses at me, but it’s too late. I’ve opened the door.
In the center of the room is a giant tube, tall, but narrow. If I were to try to swim in it—for it’s filled with a blue liquid that glitters—then I could touch the sides of the glass tube with my arms, even though the liquid would go over my head. I lean in close, peering into the sparkling blue inside the tube, but there’s nothing in there but the liquid.
When I turn around, I jump in surprise. A perfect skeleton lies on an examination table near the tube. It’s definitely human, and, judging from the size, not yet an adult. But it’s also not real. The bones are made of some sort of metal that is so shiny it’s nearly white, held together with medical-grade flex-alloy strips for tendons.