Just me and the water.
PART FOUR
40
I spent the next hour or so slumped at Tia’s desk in the meeting room, the huge window looming over me like a roommate who just heard you unwrap a bag of toffee-pulls. I stood up and began pacing, but moving only reminded me of what the team would be doing out there. Running, fighting for their lives. Trying to save the city.
And here I was. Benched.
I looked up at Prof’s forcefield. I couldn’t help feeling that Prof specifically wanted me out of the way for this operation-that catching me with Megan was an excuse, not a reason.
Megan. Sparks! Megan. He wouldn’t really kill her, would he? My thoughts kept turning back to her over and over, like a penguin who couldn’t be convinced that these plastic fish weren’t real. She’d trusted me. She’d told me her weakness. Now Prof might kill her because of it.
I hadn’t completely sorted out my emotions regarding her. But I was sure I didn’t want her to get hurt.
I stalked back to the desk and sat, trying to keep my eyes off that dominating view of the dark waters. I started digging through the desk drawers, looking for something to distract myself. I found an emergency sidearm-just a little nine-millimeter, but at least I would be armed if I could ever get out of this stupid room-and ammunition. In another drawer I found a datapad. It had no connectivity to the Knighthawk networks, but it did contain a folder with a copy of Tia’s notes about Regalia’s location.
The map showed the path that the Reckoners would use for today’s trap. They’d follow Newton on her rounds, then hit her in a specific spot in an attempt to make Regalia appear. I found a little X on the datapad’s battle map with an oblique reference to Prof in position for an emergency-and I now recognized that as an indication of where Prof would be waiting to stop Obliteration if necessary. But what were they planning to do about Megan?
Prof has my mobile, I thought. He wouldn’t even have to work to set a trap for Megan. All he’d have to do is send her a text asking to meet, then attack her. And if she died by fire, she wouldn’t reincarnate.
Feeling even more anxious, I started looking through the datapad, though for what I didn’t know. Maybe Tia had recorded something about a plan to hurt Megan.
There. A file named “Firefight.” I tapped it.
It turned out to be a video file.
Within seconds I knew what it was. A man, puffing with exertion, moved through one of the jungle-esque rooms of a Babilar high-rise. The recording was from his viewpoint, likely captured by one of the earpieces that the team often wore.
The man pushed through vines, passing fruit with a deep inner glow. He looked over his shoulder, then scrambled over a fallen tree trunk and peeked into another room.
“Sam.” It was Val’s voice. “You weren’t supposed to engage.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “But I did. So now what?”
“Get out.”
“Working on it.”
Sam crossed through this second room in a rush, moving along the wall. He stepped over a coffeemaker that had sprouts growing out of the top, hurried through a small break-room kitchen, and finally found a wall with windows. He glanced out at a drop of four stories, then looked back into the jungle.
“Go,” Val said.
“I heard something.”
“Go faster, then!”
Sam remained with a hand on the window frame. In the light of a glowing fruit I could make out his gloves. He was wearing the spyril.
“All we’re doing is watching, Val,” he whispered. “This isn’t what I signed up for.”
“Sam …”
“All right,” he grumbled, then used his elbow to knock some of the glass out of the frame so he could climb through. He pointed the streambeam down into the water below, but hesitated.
Something rustled in the room. Sam spun, a jarring motion of the camera accompanied by a muffled crunch as a vine brushed his earpiece.
Megan stood behind him, shadowed by draping foliage, wearing jeans and a tight T-shirt. She seemed surprised to see him, and didn’t have her weapon out.
All grew still.
I found myself rising from my seat, words formed in my mouth. I wanted to scream at the screen, even though it was just a recording. “Just go,” I said. I pleaded.
“Sam, no,” Val said.
Sam reached for the gun at his side.
Megan drew faster.
It was over in under a second. I heard the shot, and then the camera lurched again. When it settled, Sam’s camera faced a nearby wall. I heard Sam’s breathing, labored, but he didn’t move. A shadow settled over him, and I could hear shuffling and figured that Megan-ever conscious of firearms-was disarming Sam and checking to see if he was feigning injury.
Val started whispering something over and over. Sam’s name.
I realized I was sweating.
Megan’s shadow retreated and Sam’s breathing grew worse and worse. Val tried to talk to him, told him that Exel was on his way, but Sam gave no response.
I didn’t see his life end. But I heard it. One breath at a time until … nothing.
I sank down into the seat as the video stopped, Val’s voice cutting out halfway through a yell for Exel to hurry. I felt like I’d watched something intimate, something I shouldn’t have.
She really did kill him, I thought. It had kind of been self-defense, hadn’t it? She’d checked on the noise he was making. He’d drawn a gun.…
Of course, Megan reincarnated if killed. Sam didn’t.
I lowered the datapad, numb. I couldn’t blame Megan for defending herself, but at the same time, it tore at me to think of what had happened. This could have been avoided so easily.
How much of what Megan had told me could I trust? After all, Prof had been spying on me. And now it turned out Megan really had killed Sam. Unfortunately, I realized that deep down, I wasn’t surprised. Megan had seemed uncomfortable when I’d mentioned Sam to her, and she hadn’t explained herself or what had happened. I hadn’t given her the chance.
I hadn’t wanted to know.
Who could I trust? My emotions were a messed-up jumble, a churning stew of confusion, frustration, and nausea. Nothing made sense anymore. Not like it should have.
Gasping for breath …, Regalia had said to me.
I latched on to a thought, something different, something to pull me away from the muddle of how I felt about Megan, Prof, and the Reckoners. That day back when I’d first been practicing with the spyril, Regalia had appeared. She’d talked about how I’d die alone someday. Gasping for breath in one of these jungle buildings, one step from freedom, she’d said. Your last sight a blank wall that someone had spilled coffee on. A pitiful, pathetic end.
Though I hated to see any of this again, I rewound the video to Sam’s last sight, his camera pointed at the wall. That wall was stained as if something had spilled on it.
Regalia had seen this video.
Oh, sparks. How much did she know? My discomfort with this entire mission flooded back. We didn’t know half of what we thought we did. Of that I was certain.
I hesitated for a moment, then swiped everything off Tia’s desk but the datapad.
I needed to think. About Epics, about Regalia, and about what I actually knew. I bottled up my emotions for the moment, and I set aside everything we assumed we knew. I even set aside my own notes, which I’d gathered before joining the Reckoners. Obliteration’s powers proved that my own knowledge could be distinctly faulty.
So what did I actually know about Regalia?
One fact stood out to me. She’d had the Reckoners in hand, and had decided not to kill us. Why? Prof was certain she wanted him to kill her. I wasn’t willing to make that leap. What other reasons could there be?