Natural is hell, I’d preached to the mech recruits, believing every word, willing myself to believe, and here it was pinned beneath me, words made real. And here, beneath me, the corollary I’d willed myself to forget: Natural is hell. But hell is life.
It was just a single moment that I lost focus, the lightning flash of envy banished almost as soon as it struck, but a moment was enough for Auden to lash out with his weak but well-aimed kick, to knock me off balance and make one final, desperate lunge for the gun, for our hands to mash together on cold metal, for a barrel to twist and a trigger to fall and a muffled shot to sound.
And a moment, the next moment, was enough to meet his gaze, see my own expression reflected on his face, his jaw dropped theatrically, his lip trembling, his eyes wide. What have I done? Like we’d thought it together, like in just that one moment we didn’t need a chip to translate thought to silent speech, because we both knew—and then the moment passed and we fell backward from each other, action and reaction, shooter and shot.
All I could think was: Thank you. To the universe, to luck or physics or whatever unseen force of fate had twisted the barrel one way and not the other, had left a raw, jagged hole in my right thigh, a hole that didn’t bleed but just gaped, snow fizzling on the exposed wiring, singed synflesh curling back at its edges, a synthetic pain shooting down my leg, up my spine, a rush like jumping out an airplane or over a waterfall clearing out my brain. And Auden, intact, the gun in the snow between us, untouched.
And then Riley was there, his fist smashing into Auden’s face, and somehow it was Jude’s arms beneath me, lifting me up. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” Jude murmured, as Riley pulled his arm back, slammed it down again, Auden’s head snapping back, a soft moan escaping with flecks of blood. “You’re okay.”
“Stop!” I screamed. Jude slapped a hand over my mouth, met my eyes, and nodded when he saw I’d gotten the point, remembered myself and where we were. Then he leaped at Riley, grabbed his waist and pulled him off Auden. Riley struggled, but Jude whispered something in his ear, and he went limp. Jude scooped the gun off the ground, holding it trained on Auden. Riley replaced him at my side, slipping his hand into mine.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, and I was. I let Riley help me into a standing position, gingerly rested a little weight on the leg to see if it would hold. It did. Damaged or not, it still functioned. “It’s fine.”
Auden was staring at me. At us, as Riley brushed my hair out of my face, pressed his lips to my forehead. I shook him off. Back to business.
“I’m sorry,” Auden said quietly. “I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up,” Jude barked. “You don’t talk to her. In fact, you don’t talk at all.”
“I’m fine,” I said again, louder this time.
“Of course you are,” Jude snapped. “But we’ve still got him to deal with.”
“This could work for us,” I VM’d. And suddenly I saw it all clearly, how we could all win our happy ending. “Now we have a hostage.”
“I noticed,” Jude said dryly. He jerked his head at Riley. “Take the org’s weapon.”
Riley yanked the pulsegun out of Auden’s holster, looking as if he’d like to smash it into Auden’s head.
“Riley,” I VM’d. “Just let it go. Please.” He tucked the pulsegun into his pocket and backed away, returning to my side. Auden kept looking back and forth between us, a familiar expression on his face—embittered satisfaction at solving a puzzle with the answer he’d been expecting, even if it was one he’d hoped against.
“Don’t you get it?” I asked Jude. “We can use him as leverage, to get us safe passage off the property.”
“We won’t need leverage,” Jude said, “because no one’s going to know we’re here.”
“We can evacuate the building before we blow it,” I said. “Tell them if they do anything to stop us, we’ll kill him.”
Auden shook his head slowly. “You won’t do that.”
“Really?” I glanced pointedly at the wound in my thigh. He winced. “You want to test us? You’re the one who said we were capable of anything.” I needed him to shut up. I had to make Jude believe that I didn’t care about Auden, any more than I cared about the other orgs. That this was just a smarter plan.
“Thanks for proving my point,” Auden said, adopting a toughness to match my own. “This’ll play great on the vids tomorrow.”
“There won’t be any vids,” Jude said. “We’re not changing the plan. If we have to, we’ll take him back to the estate with us. You’re right, leverage could be a good thing.”
“We can make this work, tonight,” I insisted. “We don’t have to kill anyone.”
“She’s right,” Riley said.
“She’s living in a fantasy world,” Jude snapped. “You think Savona cares what happens to his little puppet? You don’t think he’d make a better martyr dead than alive? Poor, pathetic Auden, slaughtered by a bunch of mechs. We try to use him as leverage and give the Brotherhood any warning? Then that’s it. We’re done.”
“Savona needs me,” Auden said in a high, tight voice. “Listen to Lia. I don’t care what you do to the building, but those people inside—let me get them out. No one will hurt you as long as you’ve got me.”
“See?” I said.
Jude laughed. “What else is he supposed to say?”
“What if I’m right?” I asked, switching to VM. Jude would never back down in front of Auden. “What if this is our chance to do what we need to do, without killing anyone, and we pass it up?”
“What if you are right?” Jude retorted. “You want to let Savona just walk away? Along with all his researchers, their brains filled with nasty little tricks to wipe us out? What if this is our chance to stop Savona before he’s unstoppable? Like killing Hitler before he turned into Hitler? Stalin? Zomabi? Ever think it’s our moral obligation to stop him? Here. Now. Tonight.”
“Are you crazy? You actually want to kill these people? Even if we have another option?” Maybe I was as naive as he said. Because it wasn’t until that moment that I got it. We weren’t going to be able to argue him out of this.
“There is no other option,” Jude said aloud. “And I’m not going to let you risk everything on some childish wish that things were different.” He held out his hand. “Give me the detonator. Let’s just get this done.”
Riley shook his head. “No.”
“What?” Jude looked back and forth between us. “We all agreed this was the only way.”
Riley watched him carefully. “And now there’s another way.”
“Don’t do this,” Jude said, and it sounded half like a threat and half like a plea. “Don’t choose her.”
“This is for you,” Riley said, and then, as I stood frozen between them, everything fell apart. It happened fast and slow at the same time—so fast I could barely understand what was happening; slow, like a series of freeze frames, flashes of action trapped in amber.