Parched (22 page)

I shake my head.

“It was a type of vine, an invasive weed. Very potent and powerful. It could grow up to sixty feet in a year. It could completely transform ecosystems.” She turns to face me fully. Her eyes are flashing, and her
voice is soft and full of fire. “I'm a part of Kudzu because I believe we can do it. I believe Kudzu can transform the world.” Her words cause a ripple of excitement to pulse around my body.

I want to believe this passionate, impressive girl. I want her to be right.

Ling glances in the direction of Milkwood. “We should motor if we're going to get you back to your uncle's in time. But before we do, I need to know something.”

Her tone is strange and serious. A chill skates through me.
She's going to ask me about Magnus
. “What?” I ask.

“Technically, this is my mission, but this is your territory. You're the expert.” She enunciates every word intently. “I'll follow your lead, Tess. I'll go with your calls. I just need to know.”

My hands are trembling. I ball them into fists. “Need to know what?”

Ling's eyes catch the lake's reflection, changing their dark color to a shimmering silver. “I need to know that if things get bad—I mean, really bad—I need to know I can count on you. I need to know that Kudzu can trust you.”

I exhale in silent relief. My fists unfurl, no longer shaking. I reach over and thread her fingers into mine, squeezing them hard. “Yes, Ling. Of course you can trust me.”

There are some things that I could never, ever have predicted I would need. Roping gloves. Stolen Simutech security swabs. An alibi.

Ling and I construct the plan together. I'll have dinner with Abel at the usual time, then feign sickness and turn in early for the night. If Abel isn't home, I'm to order food on-cycle via Kimiko, which again will be a record of my supposed whereabouts. If it comes down to it, Abel can testify to the Guiders that I was home and in bed all night. Then I'm to shimmy down the drainpipe, just like at Zhukov's, and walk to Simutech through off-cycle back streets. I'll meet Kudzu there at midnight. Sharp.

When I get back to Liberty Gardens, I'm hoping desperately that Abel both is and isn't home. If he is, my portrayal of good-but-unwell- and-secretly-duplicitous niece would test acting chops I don't have. If he isn't, I'll be worried that he's at Simutech.

“Abel?” My voice echoes as I dump my backpack on the floor. “You home?”

“Greetings.”

I freeze, then turn unwillingly in the direction of the voice.

Hunter is sitting on the sofa. He's wearing a clean, white T-shirt and loose white pants: a poster boy for our great city. One finger strokes the side of his face absentmindedly, lightly scratching the slight curve of his cheek. I've never seen him so relaxed. In fact, he looks supremely happy to see me. “Tess.”

“Hunter.” I'm so stunned at his reappearance that for a moment, language escapes me. I finally manage, “What's up?”

“I came to see you,” he says, as if it's obvious.

Hunter is not a part of the plan. Hunter might be working for Abel at Simutech. But despite this, I can't help feeling excited by his visit. What is wrong with me? I have to get rid of him.

“Well, you've seen me,” I say. “Same old Tess.” Then, deliberately, “Was that all?”

He rises from the sofa and strolls toward me. His eyes don't leave mine, a sensation I feel throb throughout my entire body. “I was thinking we could go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes. Down by Moon River.”

The prospect seems undeniably romantic. Or does he know that I suspect something?

“I can't,” I tell him.

“Oh, come on. I'm supposed to be studying—I'm not even supposed to be here! But it's so nice out, and I need a break.” His eyes are bright with excitement. “With you.” He takes another step toward me.

I take a step back. “No. Not tonight.”

“You're busy?” he asks, looking around the empty living room.

“Yes, I am,” I say shortly. Then, louder: “Kimiko!”

The fembot whizzes in, spindly arms waving like a helpful, high-tech sea creature. “Good evening, Tess.”

“Is Abel here?”

“Dr. Rockwood is not home.”

“Can you order me some food on-cycle? I'm not feeling well, and I'm going to turn in early.” There's no harm in Hunter hearing this. In fact, it's better that he does.

“Certainly, Tess,” says the fembot, spinning to whiz off toward the kitchen.

Hunter frowns. “So, are you busy or are you sick?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I'm both.”

In three long strides, he closes the distance between us. Before I know what's happening, he's right next to me, raising a hand to my face. A large, warm palm rests against my forehead.

“You don't have a temperature,” he murmurs. Then, with his hand still in place, he adds with unfamiliar playfulness, “Nothing some night air won't fix.”

“Stop.” I wriggle away from his touch. This is ridiculous. I just have to get rid of him now. “I don't want to go for a walk because I'm annoyed with you.”

“Annoyed?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“Yes. Annoyed.” I set my face into a fierce expression. “You totally bailed on me last week. It was really rude.”

“Was it?”

“Of course it was,” I snap. Although it's not the real reason, it
is
true.

“I hurt your feelings,” he says carefully. “Leaving like that.”

“If by ‘hurt my feelings' you mean ‘pissed me off,' then yeah,” I reply, eyebrows raised in defiance, “you did.” I push past him, grabbing my backpack with the intention of heading upstairs. “You know where the door is. Use it now—”

“Tess, I'm sorry,” Hunter cuts me off. “Wait. Please.”

I sigh in annoyance. “Let me guess. This is where you apologize profusely, give a reasonable explanation for your unreasonable behavior, then attempt to win me back despite the fact you've been a total jerk?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, slowly becoming a grin. His eyes flash with mirth. “Tell me, Tess,” he says in a low voice, “does it ever get tiring?”

“Does what ever get tiring?”

“Being right all the time?”

Now a smile is fighting its way onto my face too. Sometimes I feel like I am planets away from this boy, that we're different in every way possible. And other times, like right now, I feel like we have more in common than either of us have understood yet. “I don't know,” I shoot back. “Why don't you tell me?”

He grins. “Come on,” he says warmly. “Come with me. I want to see you. I'll apologize as profusely as you want.”

I'm starting to feel genuinely torn. “Hunter, I can't.”

“Why not?” Then, in the comically arched tone of a fellow schemer: “Are you meeting someone later?”

“No!” I exclaim, too loudly, too quickly. “Of course not.”

“Then you're out of excuses.”

Not going with him is proving harder than going. But beyond that, Hunter has an oddly powerful way of pulling me close. I want to be around him. I glance in the direction of my room, my mouth tight. I'll tell him to leave. I'll tell him right now. “Wait for me outside.”

In my bedroom, I change into tight black pants and a black V-neck. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I see someone svelte and catlike. Someone criminal. I slip the pale Simutech security swab into my pants pocket, wishing I didn't have to use it, but knowing I will. Using Abel's pass incriminates him, and will probably incriminate me too.

I shake out a SleepWell sub I'd picked up on my way home with my fake ID. The little blue robot is shaped like a fuzzy teddy bear. When I switch it on, it begins snoring lightly. SleepWells are sleeping aids for little kids, but tonight, it'll be me.

Downstairs, I find Kimiko sorting through some dirty clothes in the laundry. I tell her not to worry about the food, that I'm really not feeling well and am going to bed. Then I put her to sleep so she can't hear me leave. I'd like to turn her off altogether, but it would look too suspicious. After ten minutes with Hunter, I'll tell him I'm going home, so even if Abel finds out I was with him, I can still claim I was in bed at midnight, behind my locked bedroom door.

Hunter is waiting for me, the only figure in an empty street of houses where all occupants are in for the night. Just a boy waiting for a girl.

“Hunter.” My skin is alight with anticipation. “Greetings.”

If the lake is natural and wild and free up around Milkwood, the part of it that becomes Moon River is stately and contained. But it's still beautiful. Streetlights spill pools of yellow light on the promenade that follows the water as it snakes between downtown Liberty Gardens, and the Hive. It's a twenty-minute walk from Abel's. I justify it by reminding myself it is on the way to Simutech. A sprinkle of stars shine through Eden's invisible dome that keeps the evening air fresh and liquid cool. Just a few miles away in the Badlands, it would still be unbearably hot.

Above us, buzzcars zip in all directions. From here, we can make out the loops very clearly. A loop allows you to fly hands free, as each
one moves the cars automatically around its endless circle, until you want to exit. There are dozens of loops above all of Eden, but most of them are concentrated above the Hive. They look like interlocking bracelets of moving lights, bright and sparkling against the night sky.

“Do you know why they're called buzzcars?” Hunter asks me.

“Because their engineering is based on the visual navigation of flies,” I reply. “Biomimetics.”

“That's right,” he says, sounding surprised. Or is it impressed? I try to ignore the hot prickle of pride that being impressive to Hunter sets off under my skin.

We sit on a wrought-iron bench overlooking the river and watch the busy interplay of the bulbous little aircrafts. The mess of curved skyscrapers in the sparkling Hive reminds me of eagle's talons, tearing at the sky.

“Someone must have dropped this.” Hunter unwinds a scarlet scarf that's caught around the armrest. It's the color of Badlands soil.

“It's beautiful.” A month's Pleasure Allowance slips through my fingers, as light and delicate as a sigh.

“We should find a Guider to give it to,” Hunter says, glancing around. “I'm sure whoever dropped it wants it back.”

Kudzu could use this. I could use this. “Or,” I say, balling the scarf into my palm. “I could just keep it.”

He chuckles as if I'm joking. When I look back at him blankly, his smile morphs into a quizzical frown. “But it's not yours.”

“It is now.”

“Ownership is based on need, Tess,” he says, as if quoting from a stream.

“Ownership is based on luck, Hunter,” I refute. “As in, we're lucky to be in here and they're unlucky to be out there.”

“How is stealing a scarf going to help the Badlands?”

I shrug, shoving the scarf into my pocket.

Silence settles between us, but it doesn't feel uncomfortable. A light evening breeze carries the scent of something spicy: garlic and lime. I twist in my seat. There's a fancy-looking restaurant across the road behind us, the kind that'd require a fair whack of your Pleasure Allowance.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Hunter asks.

“I'm not really dressed for it. Even with a red silk scarf.”

Hunter's eyes flick around my face. “I think you're very attractive.”

I stare at him for a second before jerking my gaze back to the river.
I think you're very attractive
. I replay it, checking for sarcasm, but there is none. No boy has ever said that to me. I tell myself that what he thinks doesn't matter, but my cheeks are growing warm and my head feels all swooshy. Our shoulders are touching and I'm so hyperaware of the point where they meet, it's as if my entire body is an arrow pointing at it.

“Admit it,” Hunter says, glancing back at the restaurant before nudging me in the side. “You're hungry.”

My palms are sticky, my cheeks are now burning.
Hunter thinks I'm pretty
. “I don't think so,” I manage. “What would Kudzu say about that?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Kudzu?” he repeats quizzically. “You mean the terrorists?”

I stare ahead at the water, horrified. The swooshing stops, like I've suddenly been shaken awake.

“Why would you care what
they'd
think of you eating there?” he continues, confused.

“You believe in them?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “I don't even know if they're real.”

“It sounds like you believe in them.” His green eyes seem to glow at me, enhanced by the light of the Hive. “Don't tell me you're partial to their absurd ideas.”

“So what if I was?” I ask, affecting nonchalance. “I think—I mean, I heard, they're into opening the borders and saving the Badlands. That doesn't sound crazy to me.”

There's a long, slow beat as Hunter meets my eyes. For a second, I'm positive he knows everything that's happened since I came back. “Stay away from Kudzu, Tess.” His voice is surprisingly harsh. “The Trust is vicious when it comes to protecting themselves and their interests. Seriously. You'll get yourself killed.”

I fake a disinterested laugh. “I don't even know that much about them.” My fingertips brush against the Simutech security swab hidden deep in my pocket.

“Throughout history, the revolutionary underground has made the same mistakes,” Hunter continues. “They're idealists, not realists. They're more interested in personal agendas or chaos for the sake of chaos. They have no practical sense of how to achieve change.”

“And you do?”

“I'm not interested in changing Eden, Tess,” he says dismissively.
He sweeps his hand out at the view of the Hive. “Why would you want to change any of this?”