The next morning, a com ping roused Quinn from a fitful sleep. He winced and rolled from bed, careful to favor his right side. Piers hadn't burned him this time, but the bruised ribs would twinge for a few days, despite the rapid healing programmed into his DNA. Shuffling to his data pad took effort, and it was hard to keep his expression neutral as he answered the summons.
Dr. Martine's frowning face appeared onscreen. "I'd like to see you in my office."
Quinn tried to hold in a sigh and failed. "Yes, sir. I'll get dressed."
Once the link was disconnected, he sank down onto the foot of his bed. He was so tired of being afraid all the time. He was tired of second-guessing every move he made. He couldn't even hide his thoughts-they'd built in a security feature to betray him. Whenever he lied, his shoulder twitched.
He was so tired of being a pawn, pushed around in a game between more powerful people. And he knew what a pawn was because Dr. Martine had taught him to play chess. It only took two months before Quinn beat him, too.
If he could beat one of the smartest scientists in the building at a game he'd only just learned?he could beat them at the biggest game of all. And he would. Because now, he had an ally who was just as smart as he was.
Lexa changed everything.
That thought exploded through him like a stunner blast. Doc Mendal had told him once, quietly enough that the cameras wouldn't hear, that he would become the fastest, smartest, strongest creature in the Precipice labs-maybe even Triarch City-given enough time and training. If that was true?then Lexa would be just as strong, just as smart, and just as fast as Quinn. Eventually, they would have the ability to break free.
And maybe even burn this place to the ground with Miss Maren and Piers still inside.
Quinn hugged himself. This was a dangerous way of thinking. He had to wait, be patient. He and Lexa weren't strong enough to do any of this yet, and if he kept that idea in the front of his brain, it would eventually come spilling out. Good thing he was a planner, a plotter. He'd befriend Lexa, just as expected, and slowly teach her that they could be an unstoppable force if only they stuck together.
Armed with his new plan, Quinn dressed and hurried down to Dr. Martine's office. Unlike Miss Maren's suite, his office was smaller. His walls were covered with plaques: diplomas, awards, and certifications. At one time, Quinn thought he'd like to become a geneticist like Dr. Martine, but Miss Maren had carefully stamped out his ambitions. She wanted him to be something else, so there was no sense dreaming about a life in science.
"Will you sit?" Dr. Martine asked.
Quinn jumped. "Um, yes, sir."
He sank into the worn leather chair across from the doctor's desk and folded his hands in his lap. Dr. Martine's mouth quirked up on one side. "Young man, you don't have to be so rigid here. I'm not going to rap your knuckles if you touch anything."
Quinn's eyes widened. Maybe he meant it, but Piers would punish him for breaking something, no matter what Dr. Martine said. Still, he unclenched his fists and let his leg jiggle like it always wanted to when he was nervous.
"Better." The doctor leaned his elbows on the desk, peering intently at Quinn before saying, "Lexa asked about you this morning."
"Really?" He paused; that had sounded too eager. "She remembered me? That's a good sign of cognitive development."
Dr. Martine's mouth twitched again. "Uh huh. Anyway, I'd like you to see her again this afternoon after you've finished your homework."
He wanted to. The sooner she got to know and trust him, the sooner they could escape. But Piers's "reminder" was still too fresh to ignore. Rubbing the sore spot on his side, he said, "I don't know if that's a good idea, sir. I might stress her and disrupt the imprinting process."
"I know you've been?" He grimaced. "You may've been told not to interfere with Lexa, but I believe she needs you, and I'll make sure you aren't punished for it. In fact, I had that conversation with Ms. DeGaul this morning. She wants you to be friends, and the best way to accomplish that is to let Lexa interact with you."
None of this made sense to Quinn. But it didn't have to make sense-he was getting what he wanted. Better not to question the luck involved. "If you think it's all right, I'll come to the imprinting room at four. I have to meet Dr. Mendal at five-thirty, though."