For the first few hours it was easy to distract ourselves. There were the noises of the crew arriving, the sudden, jerky movement of getting transported out of the warehouse and loaded onto the launch boat, the ever-present fear that someone would make a last-minute check of the contents and expose us to the world. There was also Zo, who’d set her ViM to record and relay her every word to mine. So I could listen to my sister play the part of Ben’s daughter… knowing that if something went wrong, there’d be nothing I could do but lie there and listen to the consequences.
Ben did an admirable job of getting his “daughter” the security credentials she needed, claiming that she’d made an unexpected visit and his custody agreement required he not leave her unsupervised for prolonged periods of time. The BioMax team seemed intrigued and almost delighted by her presence, some unexpected entertainment to break up the long, dull journey, and Zo obliged, laughing at their lame jokes and feigning interest in their boring descriptions of network-routing technology. For all we knew, one of them even had some relevant information about phase three and would be foolish enough to mention it in front of her.
It was the kind of luck that couldn’t last.
“Who’s your little friend?” The voice in the ViM was tinny and distant, but still easily recognizable.
I swore under my breath.
“What?” Auden whispered. I shushed him, and waited.
“Kiri,” Ben said, voice tight. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
No chance she wouldn’t recognize Zo. She knew everything about me. It was her job. Or had been, at least.
“If we can nip this virus in the bud, it’ll be a huge PR coup for the corp,” Kiri said. “Which we could use, after the disaster of the last few weeks. They’ve sent me along to make sure we get our narrative right. You know how it is.”
“Of course,” Ben said weakly. I hoped he didn’t sound as suspect to her as he did to me.
“So now it’s your turn,” she said.
“My turn?”
“I told you why I’m here. So why is she?”
Ben didn’t say anything.
I didn’t know what to do, if anything. I could bust out of the crate now, rush to Zo’s side, and—
“Halley,” my sister said. “Nice to meet you. And I don’t want to go on this stupid trip any more than you want me to. So if you can talk my dad out of it, be my guest.”
“Your daughter?” Kiri asked, sounding surprised. Or was that suspicion in her voice? Did she know? Had she guessed? I could imagine Zo’s bitter inner monologue—No one ever remembers me—and just hoped she was right.
“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you, Halley, and I’m certainly not going to pass up the chance to meet the girl behind the legend. Welcome aboard.”
After the terror passed, we were left with boredom. Long hours to kill inside our aluminum coffin, waiting for whatever was going to come next. Auden lay quietly on top of me for a long time. His chest rose and fell with shallow, even breaths, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.
“So,” he whispered finally. “This is awkward.”
“We probably shouldn’t talk.”
“Right. Safer that way. Someone could hear.” I could feel his chest moving with every word.
“Right.”
So we didn’t talk. Not for a while, at least.
“The thing is, we never really got the chance,” he said, some endless amount of time later.
“The chance to what?”
“Talk.”
So I wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. “Fine. Talk.”
That seemed to shut him up. It was several minutes before he came up with something to say. “What are you thinking?”
“That’s what you want to talk about?”
“I’m making conversation.”
“Fine. I’m thinking…” It wasn’t really any of his business. But then, it wasn’t much of a secret. “About Zo. What are you thinking?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Not really.”
“I’m thinking about trying not to think about all the water underneath us.”
I prepared myself for yet another guilt trip. Of course he was afraid of the water; he’d nearly drowned. But I wasn’t about to let him tell me it was all my fault. I wasn’t apologizing again.
“Not a problem for you, I guess,” he said.
“What, water?”
“The lack of, you know, facilities,” he said. “I can hold it for eight hours, but I’ve got to warn you, that’s pretty much my limit… .”
“Gross!” I had to smile. “That’s what you were talking about?”
“What’d you think?”
“Nothing.”
“Now, I’m not saying I’m going to wet my pants—well, our pants, really, considering the circumstances—and it’s not like I’m thoroughly humiliated or anything by the mere prospect, which is maybe something else I’m thinking about absolutely, and completely not thinking about.”
I wondered if he was trying to make me laugh.
“Seriously, you can stop now,” I told him, trying not to. “I get the picture.”
“I’m just saying, it’s rough for a guy.” I could tell he was holding in laughter too. “You know, you’ve got the water down there, and then you try to stop thinking about that, and all you can think of are lakes, rivers, water fountains…”
“Showers,” I put in helpfully. “Rain.”
“Flushing toilets.”
“Tall, cold drinks of water.”
“Waterfalls.”
There was a long pause. Neither of us was laughing anymore.
“It’s not an excuse, you know,” I said instead.
“What?”
“What happened to you.” I paused, half expecting him to correct me. What you did to me. But he didn’t. “It doesn’t give you the right to do whatever the hell you want.”
“I guess this is where I tell you that I didn’t mean it. That I was angry. All that.”
“Well?”
“I meant it,” he said. “All of it. Or, at least, I thought I did. Which is all that matters, right? Now…”
“Now what?”
“I don’t know.”
I didn’t want to say it. Mostly because I didn’t want him to guess how much I needed the answer. “What happened to you?”
“You know what happened.”
“I happened? Is that what you mean? I did this to you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I know that.”
“You didn’t make me jump,” he said.
“You tried to save me.” “That’s not what you told your Brotherhood.”
“I never thought you meant to hurt me,” he said. “I was always very clear about that. I just…”
“Wanted to hurt me back. Job well done.”
“I hurt,” he said. “Do you get that? You don’t feel anything, but I feel everything. My back, my stomach, my legs, they hurt. And my right arm…” The one that wasn’t there anymore, that had been replaced by plastic and gears. “That hurts the most.”
I feel everything. You used to know that.
But out loud: “I said I was sorry.”
“Yeah. You did. Right before you walked out. To go be with them.”
“You kicked me out!”
He snorted. “Please. I was half delirious. You wanted to believe me. You wanted an out.”
“That’s not true.”
“It was easier to leave, so you didn’t have to look at me,” he spit out. “That’s the mech way, right? You hate weakness. You don’t believe in it.”