I paced. Back and forth, back and forth. My doubts escalated as more time passed. Maybe Zenn was already gone. Maybe he’d hurt Trek and Starr—but Saffediene? I didn’t believe he’d hurt her. She’d said they’d kissed. Zenn doesn’t kiss just anyone. She’d meant something to him, and I wasn’t above admitting that’s why I sent her with Trek and Starr.
“Jag,” Gunn said. “They’ve got him. Western Blocks.”
Zenn
50.
Before I could call or wave to Trek and Starr, a fierce pain coursed through my body. Hot and crackling, it felt like I’d touched a live techtricity portal.
I slipped off my hoverboard, free-falling, before another layer of pain added to the sparks still flowing through my muscles. This time the ache was dull, and came from my legs.
The ground beneath me felt damp and cold. But nothing was as bad as seeing Trek and Starr lean into my line of sight, their faces filled with anger. Trek’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying through layer upon layer of my pain.
Starr stepped aside, and the real torture began.
Saffediene came into view, her eyes filled with worry but her mouth set in determination. She bent down until her lips met my cheek. Tears coated her lashes.
“What have you learned, Zenn?” she asked in a whisper, her mouth next to my ear. I remembered how that mouth felt against mine, and the agony inside me doubled.
“Free or functioning?” she pleaded, desperate for an answer I couldn’t give.
I didn’t answer—and not because my voice had stopped working. Because, despite my decision to rerecord the transmissions, I still didn’t know.
Jag
51.
“Let’s fly,” I said, dashing to my hovercraft and leaping on board. The others followed me into the sky, and we lifted over the towering wall.
I landed next to Trek, who stood a few paces away from a fallen Zenn, holding Starr’s hand. Trek had no emotions to speak of, nothing for me to use to form an opinion of the situation.
Saffediene knelt next to Zenn, weeping into his chest. Her genuine sadness rose into the air, painting the scene in muted colors. Everyone else stayed back, ready for me to take the lead.
So I did.
I moved forward and put my hand on Saffediene’s back. She stood, wiped her tears, and retreated to Raine’s side.
I looked down at Zenn. The old familiar feelings of betrayal and disgust resurfaced. Zenn looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in days and eaten in longer. He wore the same dirty jeans, the same handed-down jacket as he had when I’d last seen him.
He didn’t look like a Director of anything.
Zenn pleaded with his eyes. His mouth moved. No sound came out. Vi dropped to his side and stroked an errant piece of hair off his forehead. “He said he destroyed the transmissions he made.”
She spoke with tenderness; her touch broadcasted her love for him. I understood it, really I did, but her adoration of him still sliced through me.
“He left the remains in Rise One,” she said. I waved my hand, indicating for someone—anyone—to go check. With regret, I realized that Zenn used to be my number two. He would’ve gone to check for me. And if not him, then Indy.
As it was, Raine nudged Gunn and they left to confirm conditions in Rise One.
“He was going to fly back to Arrow Falls,” Vi continued. “To make new transmissions that would gradually awaken the people.” She looked at me with those beautiful, changeable eyes that were filled with tears for her “sweet, wonderful Zenn.” “They have a meeting tonight, after Darke returns from Castledale.”
“Zenn doesn’t need to go to Arrow Falls,” I said, refusing to let Vi’s emotion for Zenn infect me. I knew she loved me; I wouldn’t be threatened by her lingering attachment to Zenn.
“Irvine has recording equipment,” I said. “If Zenn is serious, he can make new transmissions, right here, right now.” I motioned Irv forward. “Isn’t that right, Irvine?”
“Sure thing, boss-man.”
I knelt next to Zenn and looked him straight in the eye. “Well, Zenn. It’s time to find out who you really play for.”
Zenn
52.
The fury in Jag’s eyes unnerved me. He looked mad enough to kill me. Or at least mad enough to try.
I already felt dead inside. First from the gentle way Saffediene had begged me to answer her question. I detected forgiveness in her voice, like I could salvage my relationship with her, even if I thought functionality should prevail over freedom.
Then when Vi acted as intermediate between me and Jag, I died a little more. Seeing her show emotion because of me reminded me of all we’d been through together. That history doesn’t go away overnight, and it doesn’t vanish simply because we fall in love with other people.
She would always be my best friend.
Insider Tip #10: Have a trusted confidant who has your back. You’ll need them when you least expect it.
And oh, how I needed Vi right now.
Jag’s statement hung heavily in the air, awaiting a response. I tried to nod, but my body didn’t obey. I tried to speak, but again my voice failed.
“He’s serious,” Vi said, still playing my spokesperson. “But he needs medical attention first.”
Jag tore his gaze away from me and left my line of sight. A moment later Irvine Blightingdale crouched next to me, his cold fingers pushing against my forehead, neck, and ribs.
Something hot blazed against my wrist, and then liquid ice flowed through my veins.
“You’ll go to sleep for a while, Zenn,” Irvine said in a deep voice that reminded me of my father’s. “When you wake up, we’ll be ready to record.” Irvine left, taking Vi with him. I stared up at the sky, unmoving, waiting to fall asleep, alone in my grief and pain.
That is, until Saffediene slipped her hand into mine. “I’m here, Zenn. You’ll be all right.”
When I woke up, Saffediene was by my side. Her eyes were closed, and her skin reflected the glow from the p-screen on the wall.
I lay propped up in a bed. Without the flickering light from the p-screen, the room would’ve pitched into darkness.
I tried to speak, but only managed a low gurgling sound. The pain was gone, replaced by this drugged condition where everything felt too bright and moved too fast. I couldn’t decide which was worse.
Irvine entered the room. “Hello, Zenn. Good to see you awake. We’re ready to begin recording.”
Ready to begin recording? I couldn’t even talk. I gestured to my throat, trying to communicate the problem with Irvine.
“No problem,” he said. He tapped his finger on the computer beside my bed, and I felt the tension in my muscles ease. “Try it now.”
“Thanks,” I managed to say. “How’d you do that?”
“Tech,” he answered.
“Irv has a piece of tech for everything,” someone said from the doorway. I’d know that voice anywhere. It haunted me in my quiet moments, and it chased me through dark tunnels. It accused me of abandoning Vi, of turning traitor.
And it was right.
“Hey, Jag,” I said.
He regarded me coolly. He couldn’t figure me out, and I hadn’t made it easy for him. Half the time I didn’t know what I was doing, or why.
I was lost. Others had always advised me. My father. Thane Myers. Jag Barque. Van Hightower.
And now Ian Darke.
I had never directed myself, set my own course. I’d been doing what everyone told me to do for years and years and years.