The closer I flew to Castledale, the harder my heart pounded. I knew how to get into the city. I knew how to find Fret. Those things didn’t worry me. I hadn’t been to Castledale for over three years. Whenever it came up as an assignment, I made sure someone else took it. Castledale didn’t hold anything but hateful words and angry silence, and I wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between my brother and me.
As the sun settled to sleep, I landed a few miles away from the border of Castledale and found the backpack Trek had mentioned. The tightening in my gut didn’t have anything to do with hunger, though I ordered a stack of toast and a mug of hot chocolate.
My breath steamed out of my mouth, and my fingers ached with cold. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to cache Saffediene and make sure she’d made it to a safe house okay. I wanted to be anywhere but here.
Instead I zipped my jacket up to my throat and shoved my hands into my pockets. Then I powered on my freshly juiced board and entered Castledale just as the curfew alarm sounded.
I stuck to the shadows, avoiding the guards chatting with the noncompliant people still in the streets. The guards didn’t have orders to arrest anyone, and the pair I watched accepted a drink from a man and settled on the steps, laughing.
I watched the totally noncompliant behavior, proud that I’d played a part in achieving it on such a grand scale. I swallowed the bitterness at having to eradicate such freedoms in the next twelve hours.
I darted across the street to the sound of the track system. It should’ve shut down by now, yet people spilled from the train after it stopped. They laughed, they touched each other casually, they moved down the street in twos and threes, unconcerned about curfew or noise restrictions.
I used their ruckus as cover to sprint down the sidewalk, north into the City Center. The city wasn’t quite as large as Freedom, but Castledale still housed towering high-rises and impeccably clean streets.
At curfew, Fret would be on the move, hopefully toward the only hideout I knew about. Fifteen minutes and many random turns later, I stood outside a shiny glass building. Under Director Hightower this door would’ve been locked. Here, in Castledale, it wasn’t.
I marched through the lobby, my shoulders square and my adrenaline running on high.
Outside the last room on the left, I paused. The door required no special knock. There was no black plastic to keep prying eyes out. In Castledale there are no prying eyes.
I pushed open the door and entered. A long oval table was covered with tech gadgets and snacks and microchips. Several people, both men and women, clustered around a screen.
Director Pederson sat at the head of the table, engrossed in a conversation with my brother.
Fret Bower.
When he saw me, he stood slowly. The chatter died into silence. I must have looked haggard, because Director Pederson waved, and a girl brought me a glass of water and a wet cloth.
I ignored them both. I stared at my brother. He’d had some serious eye enhancements, and now his irises blazed a freaky green. His hair, still the color of murky water, fell to precisely protocol length. He played the Informant as well as I did, conforming during the day and planning a secret overthrow in the hours between dusk and dawn.
“Fret,” I said. “Can I have a word?”
“Say it here,” he said, his shoulders so stiff and his lips barely moving around the words.
I had so much more than just one. And I said them all, my voice sure and strong.
By the time I finished speaking, Director Pederson had sweat dripping into his eyes, and Fret had fallen back into his chair.
The people in the room seemed to breathe as one. Someone coughed, and the moment broke. Director Pederson stood and began issuing commands. Fret joined him, his voice the only one I heard in my head.
Fret ordered the immediate evacuation of the Insiders. He migrated toward me as he spoke. “We’ll be out in six hours.” Fret studied me, his expression softening. “Thank you for coming to warn us, Zenn.”
I nodded, finding it crazy-hard to swallow. “Can you get the population compliant in time?”
“If anyone can do it, Director Pederson can.” We both turned to watch the Director in action. When he spoke, people responded. The spark in his eyes danced, and when he motioned for us to follow him out of the room, Fret and I went.
Back in his personal quarters, Director Pederson continued to issue directives to his networks inside the city. Sirens wailed. Lights flashed. I stood at the window, watching the streets empty, listening to the public alert system announce General Director Darke’s imminent arrival and the need for compliance.
I wasn’t an empath, but I definitely felt a panic that hadn’t existed when I’d arrived in the city.
That anxiety bled through my body too, when a dome of techtricity activated around the city sealing everyone—including me—inside.
Jag
29.
I didn’t want Thane to fly out of my sight, but that couldn’t be helped. So I assigned him the clones near Indy, where she could watch him. I was also worried about leaving Vi alone with Indy, but again, that couldn’t be helped.
After I agreed to meet everyone back at the safe house, I shot straight into the sky and arced over the city toward the eastern border. I descended in front of two guards, not even bothering to get off my board. “Sleep.”
They dropped to the ground, fast asleep. I flew south around the perimeter, repeating my command over and over. The clones were no match for my voice. They didn’t seem to have talent at all. They didn’t even focus on me before they began snoring.
Halfway around the circle, I found where Thane had obviously started. I dismounted and examined the sleeping clones. I knelt next to one and commanded him to wake up. His eyes, a nondescript blue set against his white-as-snow skin, opened immediately. “What’s your name?”
“Name?” he asked.
“What’s your talent?”
“Name?” he repeated.
“Useless.” I stood up, brushing my hands on my jeans. Vi touched down next to me. “They’re not a threat,” I said, thinking of the intense fear Cash had held in his voice when he’d said,
These were the standard clones Freedom had always produced. They were castoffs of experiments that didn’t work. I looked around, expecting the real clones to emerge from the sky. It remained cold and clear, and utterly empty. “This is too easy.”
“Let’s get to the safe house,” Vi said.
Vi had practically squeezed my hand off by the time we arrived at the hideout. “My mother, I mean, she —”
We waited for Vi to continue, but she just shook her head. I felt her desperation, her fear, and a longing so deep that I wondered at its source. Then I got it.
“You don’t need Ty as a buffer anymore,” I said gently. “You’re your own person. And either your mother will like that or she won’t.” I eased my hand out of hers and brushed her hair out of her teary eyes. “
She tried to smile, but it came off wrong. “Okay. Yeah, okay.”
When I turned toward the door, Thane was wiping his eyes dry. Something inside me shifted. I realized—for possibly the first time—that he’d lost a lot over the last decade as well. Just like Vi had. Just like I had.
Just like we all had.
Indy opened the door, and we were met with noise. Voices assaulted me on all sides. Some people argued in groups, some watched vids, some spoke in hushed tones, and some worked on tech at tables. The smell of
