26
“Oh, come on,” Emily said, patting the soaked mattress next to her. “Sit down with me. We never really got a chance to talk.”
“Right, because your new friends attacked the house we were in,” Alex said, trying to find a happy medium between averting his eyes and keeping his eyes on her so she didn’t kill him. “So, um, what happened to your clothes?”
“I came up the drain pipe,” Emily said, as if that were a completely normal thing to say. “I couldn’t exactly bring my overnight bag.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Alex said grudgingly. “I’m going to check on Katya. Could you put something on while I do that? Because otherwise I’m not going to be able to listen to a word that you say.”
Emily grumbled but after he left the room, he heard cupboards banging and thumping, so he figured that was as good as he was going to get, and hurried over to see if Katya was alive. He couldn’t find her pulse, and started to panic, but then he realized that she was still breathing, and wrote it off to lack of basic first aid aptitude on his part. She had a nasty knock on the back of her head that was welling blood, and she was soaked and ice-cold, but she looked okay to him. Alex propped her up against the junction of the wall and a nearby doorframe, where she would be at least partially out of the water that was gradually covering the floor. Then he went back to face Emily. She was still sitting on the empty trundle bed, but now she was wearing the top half of a set of surgical scrubs, so huge that it hung down almost to her knees and really didn’t do much to cover her shoulders and chest.
“Best I could find,” she said sweetly. “Now come sit down and talk to me.”
The mattress of the trundle bed squelched when he sat down on it. He tried to sit down a safe distance away, but she shifted over to sit next to him, the wheels on the mount squeaking with her movement. The water that seeped through his jeans was frigid.
“I wanted to tell you about it,” she said frankly. “But Therese said I had to keep it quiet. I’m sorry about that part. It must have been a hell of a surprise.”
Alex looked at her in shock at the mention of Therese’s name. His attention seemed bizarrely drawn to minutiae. He noticed that Emily’s ears were no longer pierced, then realized that when she turned to water, the earrings must have been left behind, like her clothes. And that made him almost intolerably sad.
“I’m sorry if I was what drove you to this,” he said, turning away before he got openly emotional with a girl that he had to remind himself was probably here to kill him. “I can’t believe Therese would let them do something like this to you.”
“I was really scared,” Emily said quietly. “Until I walked out of the water and saw my body back there, floating in the pool. It was almost sad, sad and pretty. But this was all my decision, Alex. Not Therese. And now,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and turning him forcefully to face her open, sincere eyes, “now I am so glad that I did.”
“What is the Outer Dark?” Alex said, licking his lips nervously. He tried to pull away but Emily’s grip was implacable and surprisingly strong, her hands wet and cold. “I thought I had a pretty decent scorecard going, but this is all…”
“Frightening, right? I understand,” she said, as sympathetic as always. “The Outer Dark is… a place, like Central. A strange place, isolated in the sea of the Ether. The Anathema found it Alex, and they found… things there, too. Old things, things not built by men, not only buildings — language and machines and ideas. The Anathema studied them, and learned things, and the things they learned changed them.”
“Okay, who are the Anathema?”
“They were Operators, once,” Emily said laconically. “Exiled for proscribed experimentation and technology when Gaul engineered his takeover of Central. Driven out into the world and scattered, eventually they found a home in the southern desert of Egypt. They took Central’s name for them — the Anathema — and made it their own. And then they disappeared for the latter half of the twentieth century.”
“God, this is exactly like being in class, and it’s fucking Spring Break,” Alex complained, and then he had a thought that made him sad all over again. Alex couldn’t understand what was happening — he was in danger of bursting into tears, and he wasn’t even sure why.
“Now we can’t sit next to each other in homeroom, Emily.”
Maybe it got to her like it did him. He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“I don’t think I’m getting the important part across,” Emily said gently. “I need you to understand that I did this myself, for my own reasons, and that it turned out better than I had hoped. If I had stayed in Central, I would’ve ended up a slave, a pawn for one side or another, until boredom or despair overwhelmed me, or I was sacrificed in the name of a larger goal. And if you stay, Alex, the same thing is going to happen to you.”
Alex shook his head.
“Wait, so this is another recruitment speech? You want me to join with the people who are out there right now, killing people I care about?”
“And why do you care about them?” Emily persisted, putting one cold hand on Alex’s knee. “What have they ever done but use you and lie to you? What about the Program, Alex, and what they tried to do to you? Who is it you’re feeling bad for? Rebecca? Gaul? Anastasia? They would throw you away in a second, any one of them, if they thought they could get something for it. Or is it,” Emily said, digging her blue-green nails into his thigh, “her? Are you sitting here with me and thinking about her again? Why are you so fascinated with that changeling?”
“Maybe I like that she doesn’t need me for anything,” Alex said, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to preserve a little bit of warmth.
Emily’s laugh was loud and filled with contempt. It made him feel rather small and foolish, as if he had just admitted to still believing in Santa Claus.
“You honestly think that? Did you ever ask her? Because I tell you, whatever you think of me, she’s twice the monster I am. Besides, there’s no point in worrying about her anymore.”
Alex started, and turned to face Emily, his face contorted.
“What did you say?” His fingernails were digging, unheeded, into the skin of his own upper arms. “Did you do something to her?”
Emily sighed, and then put one clammy hand on his forehead. His thoughts broke like a wave against a rock, and he tried desperately to hold onto the thread of what he had been saying, something that he knew was important, but couldn’t recall at all. He sank back onto the wet mattress gradually, as the tension and strength in his body dissipated.
“Emily, why?” Alex asked, surprised at the desperation in his voice. “Why did you do this to yourself?”
“You seem cold, poor thing. I’m sorry. I don’t even feel it anymore, not really,” Emily said softly, pushing him down on the soaked mattress. “I was keeping the water near freezing in case we had company, but no one is coming to interfere with us. Let me warm you up.”
She lay down on top of him, and he felt increasingly powerless to do anything about it. Not like the last time, where he had been paralyzed by lust, guilt, and indecision. There was something a little bit frightening about it this time, something heart-rending about her affections, but he felt all of it distantly, as if it was happening to someone else. At the very least, she was good to her word, and her body and the water soaking the mattress beneath them warmed considerably.
“Emily,” Alex asked slowly, through numb lips, “are you dead? Because I keep thinking that you are dead…”
Emily looked at him tenderly, then took his hand and placed it on the slick surface of her own chest.
“Can you feel my heart beat? Do I seem dead?”
Alex found it difficult to speak at that moment, so he settled for shaking his head. They stayed that way for a while, Alex dimly unsure whether he couldn’t pull away or didn’t want to.
“Are you still the girl I knew? How much of you is still Emily?”
“There have been some changes, I know,” Emily said calmly. “But I’m the same person I always was. All that’s different is my perspective, my motivations, and my abilities. I am still Emily Muir. I am still your friend, Alex. Have I ever done anything to hurt you?”
“No,” he admitted. “I wish you’d stop kicking Katya’s ass, though.”
“I’ll try,” she promised, laughing while she kissed his cheek. “Alex, are you glad to see me?”
