“Meant to you. Past tense.”
Giving up on me, she turned to Jude. Desperate times. “I never wanted this to happen.”
“I know.”
“You always said if I needed something from you…”
“Anything,” Jude said.
I knew what he was thinking. I could hear it in his voice. Ani wasn’t Riley, but she was as close as he was going to get. Ani had been there with the two of them in the hospital, before the download. Ani had known Riley before—she was the only person who could share that with Jude, the only person who’d known that part of him, the boy from the city, the boy from the past. Whatever promises they’d made to each other back then, whatever bonds they’d forged, Ani was all he had left. He needed her. Which meant she could use him, and he wouldn’t even notice. Or if he did, he wouldn’t care.
Since when is it my job to protect him? I thought, surprised by the impulse.
Except that I needed him for the same reason he needed her. We were all fragments; we were the pieces left behind, a shard of Riley in each of us. Losing Jude would mean losing a piece of Riley all over again.
“I can’t tell you like this,” she said. “We have to talk in person.”
So he told her where to find us.
An expensive-looking Stylus pulled up to the apartment a few hours later, its windows too tinted to see inside. Ani slipped out of the driver’s door, leaned back in for a moment as if she’d forgotten something, then shut it quickly. She leaned against the passenger side of the car, staring up at the building.
I watched it all from the window.
What was she waiting for?
What was I?
Twenty minutes passed. “Is she here yet?” Jude finally asked. I’d been staring out the window for more than an hour.
I nodded.
“So are you going to let her in?” he said, too eager. I was reminded of Riley’s puppy-dog glee when we’d first tracked down Jude.
“Doesn’t seem like she wants to come in.”
So Jude went out. I watched them greet each other: Jude’s awkward half attempt at a hug, Ani’s imperceptible step backward, sign enough that he should drop his arms. The silence between the two of them, failed small talk, strained smiles. Then Jude gestured to the house and Ani gestured to the car, and as they seemed to start arguing, I realized why the windows were tinted and what she’d left behind when she got out of the car. She hadn’t come alone. And there was only one person she could have brought with her, at least under these cloak-and-dagger terms.
I threw open the door and ran toward the car, because if Jude got there first, someone was going to get hurt. Or killed.
“It wasn’t me,” Auden said, while I held Jude’s arm, tightly, just in case he decided to pounce. “I swear, Lia. I didn’t have anything to do with this. Savona needed a scapegoat. I didn’t know about any of it until I saw it on the network, and by then—”
“It was too late,” I finished with him, fresh out of sympathy.
Ani stood by his side. After everything, she stood by his side.
I let go of Jude. It was strange—when Auden’s face had been a picture on a screen, being blamed for horrible things he never could have done, I’d wanted to defend him, even protect him. But now, his face in front of me, real and three-dimensional, all I wanted to do was jump in the car and run him over. Ani, too, while I was at it. I couldn’t stand the two of them, Ani and Auden, a matched pair of pathetic apologists, half guilty and half self-righteous, secure in the knowledge that they could never be held accountable for whatever had happened, they couldn’t be blamed, there was nothing they could have done. They were alive and safe, and Riley was dead.
“Tell me you believe me,” Auden said.
“What’s the difference? What would it change?”
“Please,” he said. “I have to know.”
“You don’t really get to make requests,” Jude said. “Not now. Definitely not here.”
“He needs a safe place to stay,” Ani said.
Jude laughed. “So you brought him here? Brilliant.”
Here to us. Here to Riley’s home.
“You said—”
“I said if you ever needed anything. That was you singular, not you plus one, especially this one.”
“Fine.” Ani glared at him. “I should have known. We’ll go.”
“Go where?” Jude and Auden said it together, disdain in one voice, despair in the other.
“I can help,” Auden said. “I have information.”
“Try us,” Jude said, sounding as bored as Auden did desperate.
“Savona acted like I could take the lead.” Auden spoke quickly. “He was going to be a consultant. He said he’d had a change of heart, that he understood what he’d done was wrong—”
“Yeah, we saw the vids,” Jude cut in. “What else?”
“He was working behind my back,” Auden said. “Gathering loyalists, continuing research into the way skinner brains work—even though the lab was destroyed, his scientists all survived.”
And all of us knew why: Because I’d insisted on saving them.
“He was setting me up the whole time,” Auden continued. “He let me have the spotlight so that I’d be the one to take the blame. And now…”
Maybe it was because he had no right to sound so pathetic; maybe it was because the self-pity in his voice sounded too much like my own. But I couldn’t take it anymore.
“People are dead!” I shouted. “Not skinners, not machines, people. Do you get that? Dead and never coming back. And we’re supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“I told you, I didn’t—”
“Right, you didn’t do anything,” I spit out. “Savona did it. The Brotherhood did it. But who made the Brotherhood? What would it have been without your face and your story? Congratulations, you made all this possible.”
“Lia, that’s not fair,” Ani said.
“You want to talk about fair? How about the fact that Riley’s dead and you’re standing here with him like he’s your best friend. None of this is your fault, right?” I said, turning back to Auden. “It’s Savona’s fault for shoving you into the spotlight. It’s Savona’s fault for somehow making you shoot all those vids and throw all those rallies about how evil the skinners were, how we were monsters, we were threats, how I tried to kill you. It’s Savona’s fault that when he disappeared, you chose to take over the Brotherhood instead of disbanding it. I guess you accidentally kept preaching all that crap. A kinder, gentler way of hating people. Brilliant. And it must have been a total accident the way you got hundreds of people to feel sorry for you, and to cheer for you when you told them we needed to die. Oops, right?”
“Lia, keep it together,” Jude said. “We should listen—”
“Don’t you dare defend him. All this time he’s been the ultimate evil, and now you decide he’s on our side? What, you think we should help him? Now you think we should feel sorry for him?”
“I think we should listen to him.”
“I think we should let the secops catch up with him and blame him for whatever they want. Let him suffer.”
I didn’t know if I meant it or not. But it was hard to feel sorry, especially with Auden staring at me with those watery, puppy-dog eyes like I’d kicked him in the stomach, like after everything that had happened we were suddenly back where we’d started and I was supposed to be his friend, afraid to hurt his feelings. Like it hadn’t hurt mine when he’d told the whole world what I’d done to him, making them believe—making me believe—that I’d wanted to destroy him. He hadn’t hesitated, because my feelings weren’t relevant—they weren’t real. A machine programmed to act human couldn’t feel anything. So what made him think I would feel guilt now, or sympathy? What made him believe I could feel anything?