“That depends,” he said. “Are you going to open the tablet?”
“I can’t,” I said. “I need—”
Hwong spoke into the microphone again. “Start with the haan.”
The man with the saw pressed his thumb to the contact on the side and it roared to life. The circular blade spun into a blur underneath the guard as the soldier hefted it into position. One of the other men pointed a remote at Nix and triggered it, causing light to flash from the shock pin in his neck. He went rigid for a few seconds, then slumped as the man let go of the button.
“Don’t!”
While he was dazed, one of the guards unshackled Nix’s left arm and slammed it down onto the block next to him. He held the wrist and leaned back, pulling the arm taut.
“No! Wait!”
The man with the saw lowered the whining blade down onto the meat of Nix’s arm, which burst into a spray of blood and sinew.
The horror and pain that drilled through the surrogate cluster paralyzed me. It wasn’t just the empathic flood of agony that bored deep into the flesh and bone of my own arm, but the terror that followed it. Rapid flashes of desperate denial arced over the sickening knowledge of what would come next.
That isn’t faked, I thought. What I’m feeling couldn’t be faked. Could it?
The saw’s whine lowered in pitch as it dug deeper, shattering bones and spraying mists of blood until it cleaved straight through at the elbow and the meat separated.
I scrambled for the monitor, pushing against Hwong’s hand, clawing at him as he held me back. Nix stared at the arm in shock while Vamp, his eyes wide with terror, struggled to free himself from the chair.
“Stop!” I shouted, but my voice broke. “Stop it!”
The guy holding the severed arm stumbled back when it came loose and dropped it. When he did, the limb seemed to go rubbery for a second, writhing in the air as it fell. When it hit the floor, it seemed to shatter almost, or split apart. I didn’t get a good look at what happened exactly, but the next thing I knew there was not one but three severed arms lying on the floor next to the table. They were all identical, right down to the suit sleeve and cuff.
“Incredible,” Hwong whispered. For a second, even I just stared.
The guard nudged one of the severed arms with the toe of his boot, and I saw the look on his face had changed. He looked a little scared now. A few seconds later, the air around the arm warped and it vanished with a bang that made him jump back. The other two limbs on the floor popped out of existence right behind it.
The guard looked back at the camera as if to ask Hwong what to do next. Behind him, I could see that somehow Nix’s arm was still on his body, hanging by his side, as his eyes began to open again.
“Well,” Hwong said quietly. “This just got interesting.”
“Wait,” I said. “Just wait.”
On the monitor, the guy with the saw had hefted it back, blood dripping steadily off the circular blade as he got ready to cut again.
“Stop it!”
“If you want them to stop, then open the tablet.”
I gripped the tablet in my hands, frozen. They were going to kill him. That man was going to cut Nix into pieces right in front of me, and Nix knew it too. When they were done, they’d do the same to Vamp.
Hwong turned back to the microphone. “Again.”
“Wait!”
The man lowered the saw, bringing it down on Nix’s knee this time.
“Wait!”
He angled the saw and the blade’s shriek lowered to an angry, gurgling buzz as he pushed it in farther. I covered my eyes with my hands and tried to back away, but Hwong had me. He pulled my hands away from my face and held me as the saw came down again. As I squeezed my eyes closed, Nix’s heart icon turned pink and began to beat. The 3i window appeared, floating in the darkness behind my eyelids as the blade ground down again.
Don’t do it.
Nix, I have to.
None of us are ever lost. Don’t.
Vamp was screaming. The man with the saw stared stonily as he worked, lifting the blade away from the severed leg and then pushing it into Nix’s rib cage with no trace of emotion whatsoever. My stomach rolled and I gagged, coughing spit through my teeth.
“I’m going to puke,” I groaned. “Let me go. I’m going to puke.”
Hwong shoved me toward the desk and I fell down on my knees next to it. Through a blur of tears I found the wastebasket and dragged it in front of me as I wretched, watching the precious nutrients splatter into the plastic liner.
“Stop,” I moaned when I could speak again. Cold sweat rolled down my forehead as I spit into the mess.
“Hold it,” Hwong said into the microphone. I lifted my head and saw the guy raise the saw back up, spitting red as the blade wound down. Blood gushed down onto the floor around the chair where Nix hung limp in his restraints, not moving. When I looked back to the 3i window, his heart had turned gray again.
“Please stop,” I said.
“Will you open the tablet?” Hwong asked. “Or do I have him start on the boy?”
“No,” I rasped. “Please. Stop. I’ll do it.”
He stared at me for a long minute, and his face didn’t seem human. The acts that had reduced me to jelly in less than a minute didn’t affect him at all, not even a little, and I realized they never would. I held one shaking finger over the tablet’s screen, and felt a warm tear run down my cheek.
“Let him go,” I said.
“Open the tablet.”
Sitting back on my heels, I swiped at the screen using the hanzi for “apple.” On the third try the metallic surface dissolved away. I reached in and grabbed the twist-key in fingers that felt numb.
“What about me?” I asked him.
“You can return home.”
“They can come with me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said, but still I removed the key and held it out to him in one shaking hand. He grabbed it, and I watched the only chance I had to get Dragan back move away, out of reach. On the monitor, I saw the guy with the saw hoist it up onto his shoulder, dripping blood down the back of his apron.
“Turn it off,” I said. “Please.”
Hwong flipped off the display, and I struggled back onto my feet. A wave of dizziness came over me like a dark cloud as the blood rushed back into my legs, and I stood still for a minute with one hand on the back of his chair until it passed.
Hwong turned the twistkey over in his hands, and then squeezed it in one fist. He moved around the desk and began to walk toward the office door, his back turned to me.
My fingers moved to the buckle of my belt, and threaded the cloth band back through as I raised one leg. My foot came down on the edge of the desktop and I hoisted myself up, taking a single running step down the too-short runway before launching myself off the opposite edge and springing into the air toward him.
He heard me too late, only just starting to turn as I came down hard onto his shoulders. My crotch pressed onto the back of his neck as I locked my legs under his arms and whipped my belt free from my pant loops.
He grunted, trying to reach into his coat for his gun, but my legs were strong and I kept his arms pinned back as I wrapped the belt around his neck and pulled. The room spun around me as he thrashed like a mechanical bull, trying to shake me off as I tightened the noose. The belt dug into the flesh of his neck just below his jawline, and when I looked down at him from above I saw his big eyes bugging out of his blood-filled face like veiny marbles. His mouth worked, unhinging as his tongue formed a purple peak.
His legs gave out and he dropped, stumbling back and then crashing sideways into the desk. My ribs struck the edge hard enough to knock me off his shoulders, but I held on to the belt, rolling and twisting my body around to form a tourniquet with it. His big hands groped, managing to get a hold of the band around his throat, but he was weakening. He gave up, and one hand drifted down over his chest to reach for the gun whose grip was sticking out from a shoulder holster, but he never made it. His fingers pawed once at the metal butt, then went still.