Etherworld (19 page)

“Bryce hasn't come in yet. Estelle tried his tab, but he didn't pick up,” Patrick says, his gaze floating back to the screen of his laptop. “All of his personal information is included in this profile, though, including his home address. So we should just go straight over there.”

“Not yet. There's someone else we need to help first.”

“Who?” Patrick asks. “Someone you love?” he mumbles half sarcastically as he refers to Josh.

I'm so surprised by what Patrick has just said that I don't answer at first. I've known Josh for a week. Is it possible I love him already?

“Josh is a good guy,” I say. “Life hasn't been easy for him, but even though he has every reason to be angry at the world, he's not. He'd do anything for his family—or for me. He believed me when no one else did.”

Patrick hesitates, the weight of my nonanswer sinking in. But then his clear blue eyes meet mine, and he nods. “All right,” he says finally. He stands up and holds out his hand. “Take me to him.”

When Patrick and I enter Josh's trailer, my nerves are fried. Driving over here during the start of the Standard 7 shift was a big mistake—traffic was at a standstill and it took us hours to get here. I complained to Patrick that it would have been faster to take the Traxx, but then he pointed out that the freedom of getting around in a car was what we would need in the long run.

“You!” Avery shouts at Patrick, her voice raw from desperation. “You did this to him. If it weren't for you, none of this would be happening!”

”We don't have time for this!” I say.

I try to move forward, but Avery is blocking the door to Josh's room, glaring at Patrick like she plans to tackle him at any moment.

“I thought you said there was nothing we could do if the emergency button didn't work,” Avery snaps. “That's why I've been sitting here with my thumb up my ass.”

“I know,” I say, “but Patrick helped design Elusion. Maybe there's something he can do to help Josh.”

On the way over here, I told Patrick about my father's warnings and what I knew about the destruction protocol. Patrick didn't say much, but he recorded it all on his tab so we could refer to it any time we needed to.

Avery doesn't see anything remotely positive about Patrick being here, and I didn't think she would—which is why I didn't tell her when I texted to say I was on my way back to the trailer.

“Tough shit. He's not welcome here,” Avery says, standing her ground.

“Move aside!” I say, staring her down.

After a beat of hesitation, she backs up against the wall and crosses her arms, allowing us to squeeze past. Josh lives with his uncle, but there's no sign of him, which makes me wonder if he's merely a ghost in his nephew's life—how could he not come home for two full days? No wonder Nora was able to disappear without anyone really noticing.

When we enter the bedroom, Josh is as I left him, sprawled out on his thin mattress, his eyes still covered by the sleek black visor. I kneel next to the bed and touch Josh's arm. His body isn't as warm as it was a few hours ago. In fact, it's like he's caught some kind of chill.

“Avery, hand me a blanket. He's cold,” I say, panic flooding my veins.

As Avery goes to the closet, Patrick rushes to Josh's side, picks up his hand, and checks the face of his wristband. “So his emergency button isn't working?” he asks.

“I just said that a minute ago, idiot,” Avery mutters. She drapes a blanket over Josh's legs and pulls it up to his waist, then takes a few steps back.

I know that Patrick's worried. Ever since we were kids, Patrick would shut down and become very quiet when he was most afraid. This is one of those moments for him, and a part of me wishes that I were a million miles from here—or even back in Elusion. Then at least I'd get that temporary wave of euphoria before my world splits apart.

Patrick types a few numbers into the chrome keypad on Josh's wrist. As he studies the silver face of the wristband, his brow wrinkles in concern.

“I'm trying to reboot his system, but it's displaying the same error code yours was. I might be able to use the Escape's coordinates to override the Equip signal . . . ,” he says, looking at the screen of Josh's tab. Then he curses under his breath.

I try to get a peek at what he's doing, but before I can see the screen, he sets it down and says, “I need my quantum.”

As Patrick dashes out of the room and to his car to grab his computer, I stay next to Josh and try not to let myself get lost in dark, frantic thoughts. I pick up his tab and examine it. The blue status bar is flashing along the bottom of the screen, as if attempting to engage the program.

ELUSION© Escape 010402 is experiencing difficulties.

Please try again.

“Did you see this?” I ask Avery. The codes for the Escapes are basic. The first two digits are always the same—01, the master program for Elusion. The second two numbers stand for the specific Escape within Elusion, and the last digits, usually a complicated and lengthy collection of letters and numbers, mark the user's identity. I've never seen an Escape code so short.

“That's so weird. It was all zeros a minute ago,” she says.

Patrick bursts back in the room, his quantum already open. He's breathing hard, but I can't tell if he's excited, like a brilliant idea has come to him, or just plain scared. He sets his quantum on the edge of the bed beside me and squats in front of it. He begins to type.

“What's going on?” I ask him.

“Remember last week when I explained to you how Elusion was set up? Dumps with basic codes of security programs in them? Grouped together, they make up the master program for Elusion, which becomes active when someone turns on the app.”

“Which explains the first two numbers,” I say. “And the next two are the Escape number. But the last ones—that's what I can't figure out. It's supposed to be the user's code, right?”

“Yeah, but all user codes begin with the same two numbers: zero two. The rest are digits that define the user, in terms of quantities produced.”

“But there's no other code here,” I say.

“I know,” Patrick says, typing away. “It's like Josh is using your dad's tab—like he's inside his domain. But that's . . . impossible.”

“No, it's not,” I argue. “I told you, everyone in Etherworld got there through my dad's domain. Zared made the chip and cracked the algorithm—”

“I know what you told me, but it doesn't make any sense,” Patrick says, frustrated. “How could a homemade chip get into a state-of-the-art, government-approved security system? There's no way he could get through the fractal encryption!”

“I don't know what fractal encryption is, but all I can tell you is that everyone broke into Etherworld. And to do that, they had to be in my dad's domain.” I motion toward Josh's wristband. “The code on here proves it,” I say to Patrick.

“You and Josh didn't break in,” he points out. “You were both in my domain, not David's. So how did you get into your dad's?”

“I don't know.” I clutch Josh's hand, remembering our small argument outside the Great Space when my father hadn't come back from the ping tunnel. “Josh thought that maybe the Escapes that were still under construction were somehow connected to it.”

Patrick shakes his head at me. “Well, he's wrong. They're not.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“We don't have time to debate this. Just read me the Elusion access code in the corner of the screen,” he says.

I read off the string of letters and numbers from Josh's tab, stumbling more than a few times, as Patrick types, his hands flying over the keypad of his quantum. I'm so rattled by his refutation of Josh's theory about how we got to Etherworld. It seemed like such a reasonable explanation, but Patrick's denial and utter confusion over it all has me thinking that we're stumbling onto an even bigger mystery—one that my father might have been trying to keep us from figuring out.

“Try the ejection button again,” Patrick says as he finishes typing.

I push my forefinger against the red button, and we all stare at Josh, watching his reaction.

Nothing.

Patrick bites his lip as he looks back down at his quantum. He hesitates a minute and then begins to type again. He stops as rows of complicated code scroll across the screen. Every now and then Patrick trails his finger along the list, pausing to enlarge something before whisking it away.

“What are you doing?” Avery asks, leaning in for a better view.

“I'm looking for a weakness inside the programming of David's domain. I might be able to open up a hole in the firewall and disrupt the signal long enough for the emergency ejection button to work.”

A silence falls over the room. I keep my eyes focused on Josh, trying to reassure myself that he's going to be okay.

Patrick yelps with excitement. “Yes! I found something!”

He types a few more digits and then says, “Hit his emergency button! Now!”

Holding Josh's wrist in my hands, I push my finger against the red button once more. The numbers on Josh's wristband flash in unison and then suddenly disappear, replaced by one word:

Good-bye.

“He's out. Help me get his Equip off,” Patrick says, reaching for Josh's visor as I take out his earbuds and pull off his wristband. For a second I think I see Josh's lips parting, as though he's about to call out my name, but my eyes are playing tricks on me.

“Josh!” Patrick says, giving him a shake. “Can you hear me?”

“Josh, please, wake up,” I whisper, pressing my lips against Josh's ear.

Nothing happens until Avery begins to take the IV out of his arm and we see his thumb and index finger twitch.

“It's working,” I murmur.

“Thank God,” Patrick says. “It could take a while for him to fully come around. He's been under trypnosis for over twelve hours. We just have to be patient.”

And so we wait, the clock on Patrick's tab monitoring the time closely. Every few seconds, my anticipation surges as Josh gives us another small sign of life—his eyelids fluttering, his leg shifting, his head slumping to the side, his body temperature rising. When we reach the fifteen-minute mark, he still hasn't regained consciousness.

“What the hell? Why is this taking so long?” Avery says, bolting off the floor.

“I'm starting to get worried, Pat,” I say.

I can tell by Patrick's solemn face that he doesn't have any reassurances left to offer. But luckily we won't need them. Josh's hand grazes my arm, and when I look down at him, his eyes are open.

“He's awake!” I breathe excitedly.

I take his hand and bring it to my lips. The corners of his mouth twitch a little, almost as if he's attempting to smile, and I bend forward and kiss him,

“We're not out of the woods yet, are we?” Avery says.

“No, not yet,” Patrick replies. “Josh? Squeeze Regan's hand if you understand me, okay?”

Josh's fingers press against my skin, very lightly, but even so, that's something.

“Good,” I say. “Can you talk?”

Josh tries to open his mouth and force something out, but he fails.

Patrick turns to Avery. “I know you gave him a lot of fluids, but maybe a glass of water might help?”

Avery runs to the kitchen, and when she comes back, I give Josh a few sips. The water trickles down his face a bit, since he doesn't have much control over his muscles—but within a few more minutes, his jaw is moving easily and he's able to drink almost the whole glass.

“Regan,” he murmurs. It's faint, but there's no mistaking my name. “I didn't think . . . you'd made it,” he says, delivering his words through long breaths. “What . . . happened?”

I sit up and motion toward Patrick, who's retreated to the corner of the room. “Patrick pulled me out of Elusion. And he just did the same with you.”

Josh glances over at Patrick, confused. Then he looks back at me. “But what about . . . the mission? I was in . . . the Alaskan Shore Escape . . . with your dad,” he says.

“My dad's still alive?” I say, relieved.

If Cathryn had gotten rid of my father, there would be no way he could still be inside Elusion, fighting the program with Josh. But where is he? And what does Cathryn have planned for him?

Patrick takes a few steps forward, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “It was too risky to leave you attached to the Equip. You were under trypnosis for over twelve hours.”

“Okay.” Josh is squinting, like he's trying to figure out what's going on, and I hold his hand, hoping that will help comfort him a bit.

“He should probably take it easy for a while,” Patrick suggests. “Maybe we should all go into the other room and let him rest.”

“No, we can't let him rest,” Avery says, squatting down at the foot of the bed, her brows still knitted together with worry. “Josh, do you know where Nora is?”

He nods, wincing in pain.

“Tell me,” Avery pleads. “We have to bring her back.”

“Island . . . Sector,” Josh says, swallowing hard. “Near Hennepin . . . Point.”

“That's just a few minutes away,” I say.

“Yeah, but what the hell is she doing over there?” Avery murmurs.

Even though they're only separated by the Thorofare Canal, the Island Sector is totally unlike the dilapidated Quartz Sector. It's filled with beautiful, historic houses and old summer enclaves that have been handed down through the generations.

Avery bolts up and points at Patrick. “You're giving me a ride over there. And you're going to help me wake her up. Right now.”

“Of course,” Patrick says. “Whatever I can do to help.”

Avery rolls her eyes, but at least she doesn't say something antagonizing.