Rebellion (6 page)

Logan’s in front of me again, though I didn’t notice him come back to me. He places his palms on my face, one on each cheek. They are warm, steadying.

“You’re not crazy. And I don’t blame you for being afraid. But know this: I’m not going to leave you, no matter what. And I’m going to do everything I can to keep you out of harm’s way.” He gently wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “We’ll get through whatever comes next, together.”

“You promise?” I ask.

“I promise.”

He kisses me once, on my forehead. I touch his arms to keep him close to me. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

A smile curves the edge of his mouth. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Lacing his fingers with mine, he pushes open my bedroom door. I follow him inside.

“You know, all those nights after you left for the Core, I kept catching myself heading toward your shack instead of mine,” Logan says. “I never got used to you being gone.”

I let go of his hand and lean down to tug off my boots. “I hope there wasn’t some other girl my age staying in my shack, asking you to spend the night.”

“Nah, a couple of younger kids moved into it.”

“Good.”

Logan’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Why? Were you worried about that?”

A touch of heat rises to my cheeks. I shrug. “Only a little.”

“That was silly of you.” His arm brushes mine as he removes his shoes. “You’re the only girl I’d spend the night with.”

My blush deepens as he straightens, leaving his boots next to mine on the floor.

“Really?” I ask.

“Really.” He leans in and kisses me softly.

I climb up the ladder to my bunk, and he follows me. I let him take the space by the wall, the way we used to sleep back in my shack. He wraps his arms around me under the covers. When Skylar and my other roommates come to bed, they might see us and assume things. But I don’t really care if they do.

I lean into Logan’s chest and breathe him in, trying to let go of my fears. Trying to forget about my enemies and the people they’ve stolen from me.

Logan is with me and we are okay. I haven’t lost him yet.

6

Sometime in the night, I wake up and can’t fall back asleep. I don’t think I had any nightmares, or if I did, I can’t remember them. But once I’m awake, I’m too restless to close my eyes again.

Logan sleeps beside me with one arm tucked under his head, the other resting across my stomach in a loose embrace. He’s snoring softly, like he always does when he sleeps on his back. It’s a familiar sound, comforting even.

I brush his sweaty hair off his forehead. Part of me wants to wake him up to talk to him, but a bigger part knows I should let him sleep. I have no idea when he’ll get a chance to rest in a comfortable bed again.

As for me, there’s no use lying here for hours when I can’t keep my eyes shut anyway. Trying to be quiet, I gently push his arm off me and climb down from the bunk. The whole bed creaks with my movement, and I pause to make sure I didn’t wake him. But Logan doesn’t stir and neither do Fiona and Paley, who are knocked out on the bunks across from mine. Skylar’s bunk is empty.

My boots are tucked under her bed. I find them and pull them on. Once the laces are tied, I open the door and slip outside, working my hair into a bun at the same time.

Down the corridor, I turn a corner and nearly crash into Skylar.

“Whoa, there,” she says.

“Sorry,” I say.

I can feel my whole face heating up. Of course I’d run into her, of all people. Judging by the annoyance in her expression, her anger hasn’t cooled off since our last interaction. I’m sure she still blames me for Cady’s death.

Skylar rubs her eyes. “You do realize it’s three in the morning?”

I hadn’t checked my time-band yet, but sure enough it’s eight minutes past three. “Well, I couldn’t sleep.” Before she can ask why—and bring up things I don’t want to talk about—I say, “Anyway, looks like you’ve been wandering around too. Where were you?”

“In the flight port, checking flight equipment and whatnot.” She yawns. “Beechy and Sandy should be over there still, if you were looking for them.”

I do need to talk to Beechy, but not in front of Sandy. I suppose I’ll go see what they’re doing, at least.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I start to move past her, but she stops my shoulder. “I hope you’ve found a solution.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope you’ve dealt with whatever it is you’re going through, because we’re launching an invasion in a couple of hours. And it won’t do us any good if you lose control again and jeopardize the mission.” She gives me a hard look.

“I know that,” I say, as steadily as I can. Fighting the urge to pull away from her. “I have everything under control. Yesterday won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Skylar says, her voice almost brittle. “I sure wouldn’t want someone who’s actually Unstable screwing everything up for the rest of us.”

Before I can argue, she releases me and stalks around the corner. A clang tells me when she’s shut the door to our bunk room.

I spin around and head in the opposite direction, rubbing the sore spot where her hand pressed into my shoulder. She is wrong; I’m not really Unstable. I am perfectly in control.

Even as I think those words, I know they’re a lie. Skylar has every reason to worry. Maybe I am in control right now, but in the midst of chaos and battle things will be different. The next time I’m controlling a weapon, I could lose control again and hurt people without even realizing.

Maybe this was part of Charlie’s plan: to screw with my head until I kill all his enemies for him.

*   *   *

The lights are dim in the flight port. The Davara jets and flight pods stand lonesome and silent like phantoms. I wonder how many of them have been privy to war, how many have been used by pilots to kill innocent people.

There’s no sign of Beechy and Sandy. Maybe Skylar meant they’re up in the command center. I could climb the staircase and check, but I’m not sure I want to talk to them anyway. They’re not the real reason I came here.

My feet carry me with purpose across the flight port, past the other ships until I see what I’m looking for: the massive hovercraft on the far side of the port. It looks the same as it did when I last climbed down the ramp, with Beechy at my side as we returned to a world with no more acid seeping from the moon, but plenty of it in the atmosphere. A world I didn’t expect to set foot on again.

A world part of me wished I could escape forever.

I haven’t been inside the hovercraft since that day, a week ago. I’ve been avoiding the silent ship, along with the memories it carries. But it seems important for me to face them tonight. No matter how difficult it might be.

I need to prove to myself I am stronger than everyone thinks.

On the side of the hovercraft, I find the hidden compartment with the cargo lift controls. I tap the buttons in succession, and the ramp lowers to the ground with a creak.

After a quick check over my shoulder to make sure no one has come into the port and noticed what I’m doing, I hurry up the ramp before I can change my mind.

The smell of engine oil is strong inside the ship. I switch on the lights, so I can make out my surroundings. To my right are the wall compartments where I found the injection syringe I used to put Oliver to sleep because I couldn’t stand seeing him as a mindless soldier. Straight ahead is the passage to the cockpit where I saw the universe through the window and dreamed of other worlds where I might be truly free.

Everything in here is all too familiar, almost the exact setting of the dreams that wake me screaming every night. But I’m standing here and I don’t feel any panic. In fact, for the first time in a week, I am calmer than I’ve ever been.

I’m not sure the nightmares are what made me afraid to come here. I think it’s something else—something I’ve been trying to forget.

I take the right-hand passageway, moving past the chair where I sedated Oliver. Past the corridor to the engine room. When I reach the ladder, I feel for the rungs and climb to the top.

In the passageway above, a window straight ahead shows me the steel wall of the flight port outside. I don’t see any of the stars I saw a week ago. But I remember how beautiful they looked from beyond the acid shield. I remember sitting inside the escape pod, preparing to fly the bomb to the moon on my own. Accepting the fact I would die and never see Logan again.

That was the only part of death that scared me: the separation from him. I wanted a way out, a way to escape the Developers and all the pain they had caused me. In many ways, death would’ve been a relief.

But Oliver took my place, so I didn’t die. I watched him fly away and had to come back to all this. Now I’m stuck on the brink of an uprising I might not survive, even if we win.

I’m not sure I want to survive it. I’m not sure this world will ever be worth living in. It feels good to admit to myself, like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Clementine?” a soft whisper from behind and below me in the darkness reaches my ears. I’m surprised it didn’t startle me.

I turn and see a person at the foot of the ladder.

“Can I come up?” Beechy asks.

I wipe my eyes to make sure they aren’t watering. “I’d rather come down. I wasn’t planning on staying much longer.”

“Oh. Okay.” He steps back from the ladder. I glance at the window behind me one last time, then lower myself down the rungs.

“Were you in the command center?” I ask.

“No, I was in bed. Been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but it’s useless. I thought I’d give the nighttime tech some company, only I saw someone walking in the flight port. Wondered if it might be you when you came in here.” He smiles.

I twist my lips. Why did Skylar tell me he and Sandy were still in the flight port? She must’ve been confused about the timing.

“You couldn’t sleep?” I ask.“Couldn’t stop thinking.”

“We’re like twins.”

His mouth quirks into a half smirk. “If only I were three feet shorter.”

I scoff. “I’m not even a foot shorter than you. Six inches, maybe.”

“Eight inches, at least. You’re tiny.”

I glare at him, giving his shoulder a soft punch.

He doubles over, as if it hurt more than it really did. “Tiny, but strong,” he says, laughing.

I start to smile, but stop because it feels weird. All of this feels weird. We’ve barely spoken at all the past week, since he’s been so busy with his leadership duties. And we haven’t said a word to each other since yesterday. Not since what happened with Cady.

Dropping my eyes, I feign interest in my bootlaces, hoping Beechy will break the silence and hoping he won’t at the same time.

“Listen,” he says. “We’ve figured out assignments for the mission, how we’re going to sneak everyone into the lower sectors.”

Good. This is a much easier subject.

“We’re going to disguise most people as officials if we can.” Beechy pauses, hesitating. “But I’ve been stuck on what I should do about you and Logan. You, especially, must be on Charlie’s wanted list, and I’m afraid making you an official will put you in a situation where it’s too easy for someone to recognize you. Your face is pretty distinct. And Logan’s in a similar situation. He has the limp in his leg, which could draw attention to him.”

I can’t argue with him. “What assignments do you want to give us, then?”

“I came up with two options. The first is that I would assign both of you to the secondary team. A few people aren’t leaving tomorrow; they’re staying here to keep the facility running, including Sandy.”

My calm evaporates as I realize where’s he’s going with this.

“They’ll back us up once we’re ready to break into the Core,” Beechy says. “So you and Logan could stay here too—”

“No vruxing way. I can’t keep sitting here, waiting for things to happen. I need to
do
something. Or what’s the point of anything?”

“Okay, I know, I know,” Beechy says quickly. “It was only a suggestion, and I assumed you’d shoot it down. So, I came up with one other option. In all honesty, I prefer this one myself, in terms of its strategic nature. My reservations come from the fact that I don’t want to see you get hurt. But what I want is to put you in one of the work camps in the lower sectors, whichever one we can get you into with the least amount of trouble. I don’t mean as an official or someone who sneaks into the camp—I mean as an actual worker, as a girl expecting to be replaced. Since there are so many people in the camps, you’d have a good chance of blending in. We need to rally those in the camps to our cause, and the best way I can see of accomplishing that is by giving them someone like them to lead them in rebellion. Someone like you. And Logan, if he’ll agree to go with you.”

He pauses, waiting for me to say something. Waiting for me to yell. But something holds me back.

Beechy’s right: I couldn’t pass as an official or an instructor. I look like someone who lives in one of the work camps, and that’s the part I’m fit to play. It’s a part we need someone to play, if we want those in the camps on our side. Most of them wouldn’t trust any adults, even ones claiming to be trying to help them.

But if I agreed to this, I’d be trapped in one of the camps again. I’d have to worry about being beaten by officials, or dragged off to one of the kill chambers. I’d have to be prepared for the possibility of being captured and turned over to Commander Charlie at any moment.

“You okay?” Beechy asks.

“Fine.” I’ve been saying that a lot lately.

But I force myself to stay calm. I will be calm about this.

This is exactly what I wanted: an important part in the mission. I will be in danger wherever I go once I leave our headquarters. But at least in a camp I might have a shot at rallying more people to help us overthrow the Developers.

“You don’t have to agree if you don’t want to,” Beechy says. “And I didn’t mean I’d send you in alone. There will be other rebels posing as officials, to keep an eye on you and step in if things get out of hand. This isn’t a one-man mission.”

And Charlie won’t expect this. He’ll expect me to holler and beg and plead before I let someone imprison me in another work camp. So, officials are less likely to look for me there.