Resist (16 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Sunday Evening: Present

Malone is observing me like a lab rat. I mean, of course he's watching me. He's always watching me and everyone else. But I get the sense he's being more purposeful about it this time. As he did yesterday, sending me on a mission without tracking me, today he's giving me enough cord that I can potentially hang myself with it.

It's the only explanation for why I've been left undisturbed today. My tests are probably still being analyzed, but Malone would have the preliminary results, and being given free run of the camp is just another test.

And if I fail? Perhaps Malone will stick me in a coma until his scientists can figure out a way to fix me. No one wants to let their multimillion-dollar invention go to waste, after all.

Actually, I can only hope that will be my fate. I no longer have any illusions as to what these people are capable of. If Malone decides at any moment that it's better to cut his losses with me, then I'm screwed. The camp's security is too good. There is no way I can escape without help.

Which brings me back to the memory in the Philadelphia hotel room. What did I do about the RTC attack? Does that explain how Kyle and I got here? Did we turn ourselves in? Did Cole come with us? Was I wrong about Cole betraying us then?

More answers always lead to more questions.

My feet pound the cleared ground as I begin the third mile of my run. My lungs burn with the cold air, but it's worth the pain. The runner's high that's taken over brings clarity.

Well, more accurately, it brings memories. Sometimes those memories make everything fuzzier.

After I left Cole, no one stopped me as I returned to our quarters and changed, and no one stopped me as I stretched. If only no one would continue to stop me, I'd get out of here, but it's safe to say Malone's noninterference policy is simply waiting for me to try something stupid. So I run and remember.

Until someone calls my name. I falter to a stop, surprise messing with my rhythm. It's not only that someone has finally intervened, but that the someone is one of my unit members.

HY1-Two, who I prefer to call Sky when I can get away with it, jogs up to me. Her thick black braid bounces against her back, but though she smiles at me, the expression is tentative.

Sky is part of that half of our unit we had to leave behind in our escape. Goodness only knows what lies she's been told about what we did or why, so it's no wonder she regards me like I'm unstable. Nonetheless, she's my sister of sorts.

Sky pauses a couple feet away, her head cocked, evaluating me. Her arms reach out slightly, then fall back to her sides. Even if she's happy to see me unharmed and isn't afraid I'll do something dumb, we can't be affectionate in public.

I stick my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants. The sun has mostly set behind the mountains, and I'm fairly certain sweat is freezing to my neck. “Hi.”

In the distance behind her, I notice other members of my unit returning to our quarters, and I count the backs of six heads. Interesting. Cole isn't among them, nor is anyone else who escaped with us besides Lev. Does that mean Jordan, Summer, Octavia and Gabe remain free? And if they are, what does that mean for my friends at RTC?

Sky subtly checks around, but there's no one nearby. “Are you okay?” It's an innocent question, but her dark eyes give it layers of meaning.

“I think so. I mean, yeah.”

“Good. We've been worried, especially after Lev was injured.” I get the sense she wants to say more and can't bring herself to do it. Instead, she waves a deeply tan hand toward the center of the camp. “Malone wants to see you.”

Luckily, the unease of our encounter has helped ground and focus me on the present. None of my sharp fear shows. I've been waiting for this summons but am hardly ready for it. “Thanks. I didn't think I'd get to slack all day.”

Sky smiles at my joke because she knows as well as I do that I wasn't slacking. We aren't allowed to slack. No, I've been running around the camp like a rat through a maze, and I'm about to find out whether there's a piece of cheese or an electric shock waiting for me at the end.

The smart bet is on the shock, of course.

“I hope to see you later!” Sky calls over her shoulder as she heads off.

Me too. I hope to live to see her and see the real me, memories and all.

All around the camp, outdoor lights are turning on. I count my steps as I walk to Building One where Malone's office is located. The guard by the doors stares me down as I enter, but he loses interest as soon as the door closes behind me.

How things have changed since this morning. Apparently, I no longer need an armed escort wherever I go. It almost suggests Malone's trust in me is growing, but that doesn't make sense. Sure, I passed his mission test last night, but my tests this morning and what I did with Kyle…

Unless I did a better job of fooling the tests than I thought. Unless Cole is doing more to cover for me than I realize.

If that's true, then it's possible Malone doesn't realize the extent of my interest in Kyle. I cling to this hope without understanding how any of it could be true.

Malone's assistant isn't at her desk to buzz me into the elevator, so I take the stairs up one flight. Building One is the only building with an aboveground second floor, and it's the only building with style. Just Malone and his Number Two have offices up here, but I imagine other members of The Four or wealthy clients visit. The hallway is decorated with a large mural and many sculptures.

A single camera, similar in form to an AAD, tracks my progress to Malone's office. Thanks to it, Malone's voice tells me to enter as I approach, and the doors slide open.

Inside the office, two security guards stand on either side of the entryway, which either doesn't bode well for me or is simply plain good sense on Malone's part. Strangely, I'm relieved. This strikes me as the most normal thing that's happened since this morning.

Malone folds his hands as I enter. “How are you feeling?”

Confused. Angry. Scared. Violent. “Fine, thank you.” I don't move much beyond the doorway, waiting for the signal that I can sit. That's what a good soldier does.

Malone immediately gestures for me to take one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “I'm glad to hear it. You've had a stressful day, I think.”

If you're going to lie, grab the lie by the nuts and run with it. “Yes, it has been. Last night's mission was stressful too. I was hoping to be able to talk about it during my debriefing today, but I haven't been called for one.”

“You will, although I talked with One earlier while you were doing your tests.” He leans back in his seat. “It sounds as if there's something in particular you wanted to discuss.”

Yeah, my test results. I want to know what they say. But I have to focus on the lie I started. “As you know from One, we encountered some difficulties last night. With my memories having been deleted, well, it worries me that some unanticipated memories might have been deleted with them. I understand why it was done, and I hope it fixes what happened to me. But I can't shake the worry that maybe some of my skills and training were lost with whatever I was supposed to lose.”

Malone strokes his chin. I don't think he was expecting that, which is good. He's been caught off-guard. “I don't think you need to worry, Seven. This is why we ran you through a series of tests today. We worked very hard to get you back. I promise you, we don't want to compromise your safety in the field.”

“So everything seems to be working the way it's supposed to?”

He pauses, and I wonder if I pushed a little too hard with that question.
Tell me the truth for once, damn it!

“So far, nothing suggests that you've accidentally lost any significant information. If anything, my concern is that we missed a few files in your memory storage.”

“Because I recognized Chen.” Lying lesson number four: always acknowledge what your enemy suspects. It makes it seem less likely that you're hiding secrets.

“Yes, although facial recognition is not necessarily a bad thing. Deleting all your facial recognition files for the time period involved was actually something we debated. They could be useful for you some day.”

I hold still, but if Malone could measure my respiratory levels at this moment, he'd know I just let out a huge sigh of relief. “Whatever you think is best, sir. I want to prove myself and be reintegrated into my unit.”

“And yet you're still searching for memories that we removed.” Malone taps his fingers together.

Shit. He's asking about why I visited Kyle in his cell. I'm sure of it. How much does he already know? “Knowledge saves lives. We've been trained to pursue it, and it's a hard instinct to overcome. These bits and pieces floating around in my head—they're like an itch that demands scratching. I'm trying to resist, but it's difficult.”

“Much of what we do here, and what you do here, is difficult. We expect you to be better than human.”

I swallow, trying to appear contrite. Part of me is too. Running to see Kyle was reckless, and I was aware there would be a price to pay. Funny how that price always seems more worth it in the moment. I'm in danger of fucking everything up. If Malone gives me a technological lobotomy again—or worse—I'll go back to being a mindless weapon for him. I can't let that happen when Kyle needs me, and I've almost put everything together.

“With all due respect, being isolated from my unit isn't helping. Normality would. Returning to my routine would.”

Malone loves routine. When my memory chip failed at RTC, he told me the camp scientists believed returning me to my routine was the best way to help my memories return quickly.

“When I'm kept apart from them, especially with the tests, it gives me time to dwell on things I don't want to dwell on. I want to move forward. Although I understand why I need to be punished for my actions too.”

To my surprise, Malone smiles. “You make good points, Seven. I wonder why, though, you didn't join them this afternoon when you had the chance. No one would have prevented you.”

“I was told I wasn't allowed, sir. I want to return to my routine, but I'm waiting to be given the all-clear to do so. That's why I went for a run. It helps me focus, and I'm unlikely to get myself or anyone else in trouble.”

There are moments when I feel badly for having shot Fitzpatrick. One reason is because I
shot
Fitzpatrick. Another reason is because damn—she might be a sadistic bitch, but she really trained us well.

I've impressed myself with how easily the lies are blossoming on my tongue and how coherently my story is holding together. I hope against hope that Malone is buying it as well as I'm selling it. While he knows he can't trust me, I think he also wants to push me as hard as he can to see if I break again.

He's no slouch himself, however, when it comes to lying or faking sincerity. He's got the crinkled-eye, genuine-warmth expression down as he sits up straighter. “You make valid points about the benefits of returning to your unit and reestablishing your routine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So I'm going to recommend to Fitzpatrick that this happens immediately. We aren't done with the tests. As I promised you, we want to make sure the skills and knowledge you need are at one hundred percent, so we'll have to pull you aside again over the next few days. But meanwhile, I agree that you should be reintegrated.”

This is not merely the outcome I was hoping for. This is better. I'd say it's too good to be true, but I'm already aware there's more to it than what Malone claims. It's still a test. He's continuing to loosen my cord.

“Thank you, sir. I think it will help.”

“So do I. Change clothes or whatever you have to do, and then you can meet them in the mess hall for dinner.” He stands, and I stand with him. “And, Seven, I'm sure they will have questions for you. Do think carefully how you answer. Your behavior and its consequences are a strong reminder to them about the potential for their own mishaps. I'm certain you would feel terrible to see any of them suffer the same way.”

I wet my lips. In other words, say as little as possible. Be like Cole and don't forget where your loyalties are supposed to lie. “Understood, sir.”

We eat meals in shifts, the staff in one mess hall and the so-called trainees in another. By the time I've washed up and changed, our mess hall is filled with my unit and the HY2s. The latter are more numerous, even when my entire unit is present, and they're also noisier. There is never a time, except in the bathrooms, when we can't be observed, but meals are the one activity where we can relax, joke around and have some fun.

But the sounds of all those voices, the rattle of the flatware and the clanging of trays dies away as I enter the mess hall. I step into the food line, ignoring the sensation of eyes on my back.

To the women and men cooking and serving our food, I'm just another one of those strange, augmented soldiers who they've been warned to keep their distance from. They might realize something is up, but they wouldn't know I'd gone AWOL. Thus, their eyes are far less curious than anyone else's as they dole out my portion of dinner.

As I take my food, I see Cole has returned to our unit. He nudges Four—AKA Mike—over so I can sit next to him. Without Jordan, Summer, Gabe or Octavia, we have plenty of room at our table.

The HY2s begin talking again as I sit, and normality's low rumble fills the space. I poke at the meatloaf and mashed potatoes I've been served and wish I'd been able to eat more of that sandwich I'd ordered in the Philadelphia hotel.

“You're back.” Sky's smile is broad, and others echo her comment.

My gaze sweeps around the table, taking in the faces, wondering what they know. Cole is on my left, and to his left is Mike with his large dark eyes and skin nearly the same shade. Lev sits across from Mike, and Five—Alan—is next to him. Alan also has dark eyes and hair, but his genetic ancestry is more like Octavia's, from somewhere in eastern Asia. Across from me sits Sky, and on my right is Twelve—Eva, whose auburn curls have always made me jealous. Finally, next to Eva is Ten—Dylan, who I guess complexion-wise was made to be my male counterpart. Our skin isn't as dark as Sky's or Lev's.