Replica (33 page)

While Nate and Dante exchanged glares, Nadia reached over with her left hand and grabbed the bug out of her right. By the time the staring contest was over, the bug was tucked in Nadia’s pocket. Not that Nate couldn’t find it and take it away from her if he set his mind to it, but maybe the minor slight of hand would help convince him she was capable of doing the job.

“Look,” Bishop said, “no one likes this, but if we don’t do something and do it fast, we’re all going down. If Nadia’s willing to do it, then you have to let her.”

It was Nadia’s turn to let out an undignified snort. “Nate doesn’t get to ‘let’ me do anything. It’s my decision.”

Nate finally noticed that the bug wasn’t in her hand anymore, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m your future husband, and I
forbid
you to do this.”

Nadia couldn’t help laughing. “You don’t honestly think that’s going to work, do you?”

Nate let go of her wrist with a grunt of disgust. He made a gesture as if to punch the side of the van again in frustration, then thought better of it. “I hate this,” he muttered with feeling.

Nadia didn’t exactly love it herself. There was already so much riding on her shoulders she could hardly bear up under the weight. Now she would add Nate’s life and the lives of Dante and Bishop and anyone in the resistance they might implicate if they were questioned to the list of responsibilities she carried. The fate of so many rested in her ability to converse with Dirk Mosely tomorrow as if she didn’t know exactly what kind of a monster he was or who held his leash, and her ability to plant a bug on him without him noticing.

“What do I have to do?” she asked, pulling the little box out of her pocket again and opening it to inspect the tiny bug.

Dante gave her a nod of approval. “It’s heat activated. Hold it in your hand for a minute or two to warm it up, and it’ll start transmitting.” He took the box from her and carefully lifted the foam out, revealing a strip of thin, translucent tape underneath. “Peel the backing off one side of the tape and stick it to your hand. Then peel off the other side,” he put the foam back in, “and stick the bug to it like so.” He put his hand briefly down on top of the bug to demonstrate. “The other side of the bug is sticky. Way stickier than the tape. You’ll have to be careful not to let it touch anything—including your hand—until you’re ready to put it on Mosely.”

Nadia nodded and took the box back, trying not to think about all the million ways this could go wrong.

“Obviously,” Dante continued, “it’s best if you can stick it to his skin somewhere. But it would be easier and safer to stick it to his jacket and hope he keeps wearing it until he gives the Chairman his daily update.”

Nadia nodded again. She could find some excuse to grab hold of Mosely’s jacket, surely. Maybe in the course of an impassioned plea to release her from her obligations.

I can do this,
she told herself, hoping to make herself believe it.

“And what do you want me to tell him?” she asked aloud. “How much truth is too much?”

“Tell him about getting the tracker and the stupid note,” Bishop said. “The idea that you’ve heard from me will give him a real hard-on.”

“Hey!” Nate said, giving Bishop’s foot a light kick. “Watch your mouth around Nadia.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. Bishop had tamed the gutter mouth that came with living in the Basement, but this was far from the first time he’d let something coarse slip out, and it wasn’t exactly shocking.

“It’ll make him drool,” Bishop continued smoothly. “Maybe it’ll even make him think I might contact you again so he might think you make good bait.”

Nadia supposed that was meant to be comforting. There would always be more threats Mosely could raise, more ways he could keep her under his thumb. But she couldn’t allow herself to think about consequences.

“All right. I’ll tell him that. I might also suggest that you’re going to want to warn Nate about me, give him hope that he might be able to intercept you if you do.”

“Well,” Dante said, slapping his hands on his thighs. “That’s settled.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late and I should get you two back if we’re done here.”

“We’re not quite done,” Bishop said. “Nate, when I told you what we heard on the night of the reception, I said that Mosely and the Chairman were talking about someone named Thea. I thought maybe you might have recognized that name.”

Nate nodded grimly. “I do.”

“Who is she?”

Nate let out a deep breath. “I need you all to promise me that this information won’t leave the van, at least not for now. If I answer your question, I’ll be spilling state secrets.”

“State secrets that might help the resistance?” Dante asked with an eager gleam in his eyes.

“And this conversation is now officially over,” Nate said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You want a ride home?” Dante countered. “Or would you rather walk?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Bishop said. “No one’s walking.” He turned to Nate. “I guarantee it won’t leave this van. Tell me who Thea is.”

But Nate shook his head. “I trust you, even though I probably shouldn’t, but I
don’t
trust him.” He jerked his chin toward Dante. Nadia wasn’t sure if this was a sign that Nate was
finally
being cautious enough, or if it was just further evidence that he didn’t like Dante.

“I outrank him,” Bishop said, giving Dante a meaningful look, “and I say he’s not going to run his mouth to anyone.”

“I don’t care. I don’t feel like sharing secrets with him.”

“You trusted me enough to get in a van with me and let me take you to the Basement without any proof I was taking you to Bishop,” Dante pointed out. “I’m one of the good guys here.”

Nadia believed him, or at least believed he believed what he was saying. But she didn’t know enough about the resistance or anyone who was in it to be convinced they were really the good guys. She’d studied enough history to know that even revolutionaries with good intentions often ended up doing terrible things. She couldn’t blame Nate for being reluctant to talk around him.

“Then why don’t you prove you’re a good guy?” she challenged before Nate said something to escalate the hostility. “Don’t insist Nate tell his secrets to someone he’s known less than twelve hours.”

The chagrin on Dante’s face said he didn’t like it, but he reluctantly exited the van, slamming the doors behind him more vigorously than necessary.

Nate stared at the doors through which Dante had exited with a look of distaste.

“That guy’s a total dick.”

“Watch your mouth around the lady,” Bishop said mildly, and Nate responded by flipping him the bird.

“So who is Thea?” Nadia prompted, her curiosity rampaging. She didn’t know anyone named Thea, couldn’t think of anyone in the upper echelons of Paxco named Thea, so she couldn’t help wondering how state secrets could be involved.

Nate hesitated. “Promise me you won’t tell Dante. This is just between the three of us.”

“I promise,” Nadia said without hesitation. Bishop was slower to agree, but he eventually nodded his acceptance.

“All right,” Nate said. “Thea isn’t a ‘who,’ it’s a ‘what.’ It’s the name of the AI that invented Replicas.”

There had long been rumors that the Replica technology was beyond the scope of human invention. As soon as Paxco had unveiled its miraculous technology, every state and nation in the world had rushed to try to duplicate it, and no one had come close. Religious fanatics claimed it was the work of the devil and a sign of the End of Days. The nuttiest of the conspiracy theorists suggested that the government of Paxco had made a pact with aliens. But the most reputable scientists had posited that perhaps in its research into biomedical engineering, Paxco had created a true AI, an artificial intelligence. Something that started out as a product of mankind’s devising but had since grown into something more, something other. Something with the capacity to understand the human brain and body in a way that humans themselves could not.

“So it’s true,” Nadia whispered. “There really is an AI.”

Nate nodded. “I don’t know a whole lot about it.” He made a wry face. “I’m not considered responsible enough to be let into the true inner circle. All I really know is that it exists, and that it’s located somewhere below ground under the Fortress.”

“I don’t get it,” Bishop said. “What’s the big secret? Lots of people are already convinced there has to be an AI behind the technology, so why hide it?”

“My understanding is that we don’t want anyone to know anything for sure. If other scientists knew
for sure
that it took an AI to invent the Replicas, they’d focus their energies—and their research grants—that way, and they might eventually create another AI that’s capable of doing the same thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Bishop said, sounding completely unconvinced.

Nate shrugged. “My father explained the reasoning a lot better than I did. It made sense—it really did.”

Nadia had no doubt that it had. The Chairman was an impressive speaker, able to justify his actions to the public in such a way that there never seemed to be any huge outcry over what Nadia saw as injustices. Though perhaps the existence of the resistance movement proved that he wasn’t convincing everyone, at least not anymore.

“It’s a camouflage,” Nadia said.

“Huh?” Nate asked, looking at her in puzzlement.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, “but your father wouldn’t share a sensitive state secret with you if his life depended on it.”

Nate jerked back as if slapped. “Just how exactly am I supposed to take that that isn’t the wrong way?”

“You’ve gone out of your way to paint yourself as an irresponsible playboy,” she said. “Don’t be offended at the thought that your father might treat you like one.”

It looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but he thought better of it and settled into resentful silence.

“He told you about Thea’s existence and told you it was a big state secret so you’d feel like he told you something important and you wouldn’t ask any more questions. But there’s a lot more to it than that. Something about Thea that he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Something you overheard him talking to Mosely about,” Bishop put in. “Something big enough that he’d rather kill you than take the risk you might tell anyone what you heard.”

The corners of Nate’s eyes tightened at the reminder. “And whatever it is, we’re going to have to figure it out.”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Bishop said. “The thing we have to do now is get Nadia out of this mess before Mosely gets drastic with her. Everything else can come later.”

Nadia wondered if Nate could read between the lines as well as she could. For the moment, she guessed he was too distracted to notice, but she felt sure from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that Bishop was humoring him. Allowing Nate to believe that he would somehow be involved in solving the mystery of Thea. That there was a “we” beyond their current mission. But even though they were all on the same side for now, Nadia knew that she and Nate represented exactly the kind of establishment the resistance planned to fight against. When the crisis was over, the resistance would be through with them—and Bishop would very likely break Nate’s heart.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Nadia
was brushing her teeth the next morning when she heard a commotion outside. The sound of raised voices reached her even through her closed bedroom and bathroom doors. She spit out her toothpaste and hurriedly pulled on the slacks and blouse she’d picked out for the day, her nerves buzzing with foreboding. It could be just Mrs. Reeves yelling at one of the maids, but even Mrs. Reeves’s tantrums weren’t usually quite so loud.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, Nadia realized it couldn’t be Mrs. Reeves, because there was at least one male voice yelling, too. It sounded like her father. But Gerald Lake never yelled—he left such theatrics to his wife. Nadia’s palms started to sweat, and her heart fluttered in her chest as she heard the heavy tread of many feet tromping down the hallway, coming closer and closer. Her stomach bottomed out when she heard crying and recognized her mother’s tearful voice calling her name. She had a brief thought of diving under her bed to hide, or trying to lock herself in her closet, but that would be as undignified as it would be futile.

There wasn’t time to prepare the little transmitter to plant on Mosely, nor was there time to dispose of it, since it was still stuck in the pocket of the catsuit, which she’d hidden at the back of her closet. Probably just having that little transmitter in her possession was enough to help fuel any accusations of treason or espionage Mosely wanted to throw her way.

Panic bubbled and boiled in her stomach, but Nadia kept it at bay as she moved over to her bedside and casually picked up the earrings she had laid there last night when she’d taken them off before her trip to the Basement. Her hands shook only a little as she slid one through the hole in her ear and her bedroom door burst open. She used her fingernail to flip the switch on the earring to transmit and wished the signal were going to an actual person who might be able to help her now, rather than avenge her later.

“I’ll be with you in one moment,” she said, her voice sounding much calmer than she felt as she inserted the other earring. She picked up a black velvet headband she had discarded on the nightstand, just to make sure her calm donning of the earrings didn’t bring any special attention to them.

“Nadia Lake,” a deep voice intoned, “you are under arrest for conspiracy and suspicion of treason.”

Settling the headband on her head, Nadia raised her chin and turned around.

In her doorway stood two armed security officers, glowering at her. Both had their hands on their firearms, though at least they weren’t pointing them at her. Behind them stood Dirk Mosely, and behind him stood two more security officers who spread their arms to keep Nadia’s mother and father from entering the room. Nadia’s throat closed up to see her mother’s face awash with tears, her eyes red and her nose running. Esmeralda Lake
never
cried.