23.

Decision

Commander Bridges looks furious, and I can’t say I blame him. He just lost three Enforcers and the Aletheians who are responsible escaped. Then there’s the obvious question I’ve been dreading ever since the heli came for Astrid and me last night: why did I wander off in the first place?

It’s the morning after our rescue and we’re seated in Bridges’ office: a cluttered space that smells of old smokeweed and dirty socks. An antique fluorescent blinks overhead, buzzing like there’s a fly stuck in the tube. Bridges and Dax sit on the opposite side of a square metal table, facing us. The Commander looks like he’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown, wiry auburn hair standing up in all directions. Dark circles rim his hooded eyes. Dax, on the other hand, has been wearing this maddening smirk ever since we walked into the room, like he’s in on some private joke. Doesn’t he take anything seriously?

“Let me get this straight,” Bridges says after glancing at our report. “Guardian Brown…” He cocks his hairy chin in my direction and it takes me a moment to remember that’s now my official last name. “You got separated from your team during the ambush because…?” He waves his hands in the air, urging me to come up with some good explanation.

“If I may, sir,” Dax interrupts.

When Bridges turns to him, I think: Great. He’s about to bury us.

“I ordered Guardians Blake and Brown to take point. That was my bad judgment. I figured they should learn how to patrol on their own, but I had no idea we’d come under attack. When we started taking slicer fire, I told them to find cover. Unfortunately, the terrorists outflanked us. Blake escaped, but Brown stayed back to fight them off. That’s why he got captured. We found his comm link in the snow, so we tracked the back-up beacon in his helmet.”

A second tracking beacon! So that’s how they found me. I glance at Astrid, who looks as dazed as I feel. She doesn’t even react when Dax drapes an arm around her shoulder.

“This brave greenie insisted on leading the rescue team,” he continues. “She followed the signal into the subterranean tunnel network, where our Enforcers engaged the enemy. Most of the team was killed in the ensuing firefight.” He motions to me and Astrid. “Thank the Three, these two made it out alive.”

Bridges nods, his face brightening with approval. “Is this what happened?”

“Pretty much, sir,” Astrid answers for both of us. “I owed Wil my life, so of course I wouldn’t leave him behind.”

Dax gives the Commander a shrug. “You know me, boss. Can’t say no to a pretty face.”

“Well, then…” Bridges reclines into his chair. “Sounds like commendations are in order. The loss of Enforcer life is regrettable, but…” – He gives us a wink – “…That’s what they’re made for, isn’t it? The outcome would have been much worse if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking. Good job, Guardians.”

So we’re off the hook, just like that? I glance from a stunned Astrid to Dax, who’s grinning like he just took a puff of smokeweed. I’m not sure what his game is, but we obviously owe him now. Then again, maybe that’s his goal: to have us indebted. Something tells me he’s going to take full advantage when the need arises.

With any luck, we’ll be long gone before that happens.

The Commander turns to address Dax. “I see the ambush happened in the North End Market. That’s been a Green A hotspot lately, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Dax confirms, pointing to a map on the wall. Someone has scrawled dozens of green ‘A’s all over its surface, presumably to mark recent Aletheian activity. “We’ve already doubled our Enforcer patrols.”

“Good.” Bridges shifts his attention back to Astrid and me. “Say, weren’t you in the market district of Washton when you got attacked there too?”

“That’s right, sir,” I answer.

“Well, then…” He grins, showing a flash of yellow, smokeweed-stained teeth. “Maybe you two should think about avoiding markets in the future.”

I chuckle, even though I’m hardly in the mood. Gotta give the guy credit though. It’s a pretty good joke. Even Astrid cracks a smile.

 “And what about the injured?” Bridges asks, his voice turning somber again. “How is Vora?”

“She’ll pull through,” Dax reports. “Only a minor leg injury. Should be back on patrol in just under a week. She’d make it sooner if the medics allowed.”

Just under a week. I glance at Astrid, knowing she’s thinking the same thing: with any luck, we’ll be thousands of miles away from the Ice Pit by then.

Either that, or we’ll be captured. Or dead.

*

Half an hour later, I find Vin in the canteen, sitting at a corner table with Brenne. When I call out to them, she gives me a quick nod and wave. Vin, on the other hand, doesn’t even look in my direction. If it weren’t for the sudden hunch in his shoulders, I’d think he hadn’t even heard me.

He’s been like this since I returned last night. I’m not saying I didn’t expect some blow back – hey, I know I deserve it after leaving him in the dark like I did – but not this level of hostility. When our heli landed, he didn’t even bother to visit me in the infirmary. Once I’d been medically cleared, I hunted him down only to be told by Brenne he had nothing to say to me.

I can’t remember the last time we had a serious fight. We’ve been like brothers since year one at the GA, but now he’s turned on me, practically overnight. When I try to put myself in his shoes… yeah, okay, I’d be steamed. But I’m pretty sure I’d at least give him a chance to explain himself. After eight years of loyal friendship, he owes me that much.

I hug Brenne and ask how she’s feeling before turning to Vin. 

“Hey.” When he ignores me, I poke his shoulder. Hard. “I need to talk to you.”

He tilts his head back, eyeing me like I’m a bug that just buzzed in his ear. “Actually, we’re kinda busy here.”

I’m about to mutter something about him being busy acting like a fragging idiot when Brenne throws me a lifeline. “You should give him a chance, Vin. At least hear what he has to say.”

He shrugs, then spears a fork into some gray-white slop on his plate. “But I’m eating.”

“Your reconstituted egg substitute can wait.” She rolls her eyes at me. “It’ll be just as disgusting when you get back. Wil’s your best friend. Just hear him out.”

“He was my best friend,” Vin corrects, pushing his tray away. When he stands to face me, I can feel the anger coming off him in waves. “I just lost my appetite, so what-the-frag-ever. You have five minutes.”

I ask if we can go somewhere quiet to talk and he crosses his arms, biceps bulging through his black tee.

“I can hear you just fine.”

“I know, but my hearing’s not so good. Ever since the ambush, my ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton, and there’s this nonstop sizzling sound.” I gesture to the grill behind us, wondering when I became such a skilled liar. “Like someone’s frying bacon inside my head.”

“Fine, whatever.” He frowns, trying his best to act indifferent, but his eyes betray a flicker of concern. Despite everything that’s happened, he still cares about me.

The realization gnaws at my insides. I just fished for Vin’s sympathy and he took the bait. Once again, I’m manipulating him and taking advantage of his trusting nature. He deserves better. He deserves the truth.

I glance at Brenne, wondering if she already knows. Probably not, since I’m still carrying the RTC scanner. I’m supposed to give it to Astrid once I’m done talking to Vin. “Has Astrid spoken to you yet?”

“Nope. Funny you should ask.” She crinkles her forehead, freckles merging into a tan dash above her pale green eyes. “I’m meeting her and Ferro in an hour. Any idea what she’s going to say?”

“I, um… probably wants to apologize for going on patrol without telling you first.”

Brenne pouts at my explanation, clearly not buying it. “Sounds like we’ll have a lot to discuss.” Her eyes flit to Vin. “Go talk to your friend. I’ll make sure no one steals your yummy breakfast while you’re gone.”

Before he can argue, she jumps up to give him a good-bye peck on the cheek. The gesture’s so cute I can’t help but grin, but Vin remains stone-faced.

He cocks his head toward the exit and grumbles. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ten minutes later, I’m leading him through the catacombs of Sub-level D. The engineers who built York Command buried most of the structure underground, so we must be hundreds of feet below the surface. The air down here feels balmy and smells of rotten eggs, thanks to the geothermal vents that feed the power generator and heating pump. I scouted my way through these corridors a few hours ago, but now they all look the same: dimly lit with low, curved ceilings humming with the occasional biolume. The monotonous blue light only adds to the disorienting sense we’re going in circles.

I’m about to turn around when I notice the red dot on the wall, right where I left it this morning. I erase the mark with my thumb as we pass and lead Vin deeper into the catacombs. When we reach a T junction, I know we’re close. I can hear a familiar low drone, coming from the generator room.

We turn right, Vin’s eyes drifting to the ceiling. I follow his gaze to the thick bundles of cables and hissing pipes suspended overhead: veins of water flowing into the generator room and arteries of steam and electricity flowing out.

“Where in flipping flames are we?” he asks.

Without speaking, I point to a thick metal door carved into one of the corridor walls. A sign screams out its warning in red block letters:

GENERATOR CORE

HIGH ELECTROCUTION RISK

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

I dig Cael’s RTC scanner out of my pocket, then hold it in front of the door. Still red.

“What the…?”

I shake my head to cut Vin off, then show him the scanner and mouth: “Not safe yet.” This morning, the display only turned green when I stood right up against the generator wall – close enough to feel its vibrations rattling my teeth.

Vin stares at the device, eyes widening. At least he doesn’t look angry anymore. “What the frag?” he whispers.

When I use my index finger to spell out G-A-N-T on the door and then tap my ear, his jaw drops. Finally, he’s starting to get it.

“Inside,” I mouth, reaching for the hydraulic lever.

The door grinds open to release a blast of dry heat. Inside, the generator room glows red, adding to the feeling we’ve just opened a gateway to hell. Vin gives me a wary look, then shrugs when I motion for him to follow me inside.

I close the door behind us. The room’s as claustrophobic as I recall, crammed full of creaking, hissing and groaning equipment. I lead Vin toward the generator core: a towering metal cylinder that rises from floor to ceiling. In order to reach the core, we must duck beneath an archway of pipes that are so hot they make the air around them ripple. From what little I know of geothermal power, these supply the superheated steam to drive the turbines. The runoff steam then flows into a condenser, which channels some of the warm fluid into the heating pumps for circulation throughout York Command. The rest of the fluid gets injected back into the ground to be reheated, probably miles below the surface.

When we reach the generator wall, I show Vin the monitor has turned green, then guide him into the safe zone.

“Don’t move from that spot!” I shout to be heard above the machinery. “The generator’s magnetic field blocks our chips!” I use the tip of my boot to trace a boundary in the dust-coated floor. “Go past this line and Gant will hear every word!”

“How?”

“Our chips,” I answer into his ear. “They transmit everything.”

Vin steps back, lips pressed into an angry line. “How long?”

“Since Washton. Maybe even longer.”

“Why?”

When I look into his eyes, I find exactly what I expected to see there: plenty of defiance without a trace of fear. He’s starting to put two and two together.

Finally.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, then clear my throat in preparation for a long explanation.

It’s time to win my best friend back.

*

“Wait, hold up a second. You’re saying she actually kissed you? On the lips?”

I gape at Vin, wondering if he’s just lost his mind. I’ve spent the past ten minutes telling him everything: the horror of the Eye, my reunion with Liv and Thea, the Aletheians’ offer, my plan to rescue my sister… I mean everything. And this is his first comment?

“Did you even hear a word I said?” I ask incredulously.

“Sure I did.” He gives me a crooked grin. “You sly bastard. So the Princess has a thing for Camp Rats. Who knew? Wait ‘til I tell Fahrenheit.”

“Could you just be serious for a moment?” I snap.

“I am.” He puffs out a sigh, and that’s when I notice the strain on his face, like he’s holding onto a grenade and waiting for it to explode. He gets it. Humor’s just a coping mechanism. “Listen, Wil: what you just told me… I know this may sound crazy, but I’m actually sort of relieved.”

“You’re relieved?” I choke out.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, I am. And I can’t say I’m surprised. I had that Peacock pegged as evil the moment I met him. What I didn’t understand is how you could shut me out, and now even that makes sense. You had no choice.”

“Yes I did.”

“No.” He nudges my arm. “No you didn’t. You did what you had to do. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“But I should have found a way to tell you.”

“How?” He taps my head. “With that bleeding spy chip in there? You had no other options.”

“But…” I look away, swallowing the knot that’s settled in my throat. “I still had no right to drag you into this mess.”

“Hey!” He whacks my shoulder, hard enough to make me wince. “Would you shut up with that? Tell me: what would you have done if the situation was reversed?”

I look up at him, half-smiling. “You mean if Astrid kissed you?”

“No, you idiot! You know what I’m saying. If you were in my shoes, would you let me face the Prime Enfragger alone?”

“Enfragger?” I ask, laughing at his lame nickname for Gant.

“Yeah.” He matches my grin. “Just came up with that one. What do you think?”

“Needs work. How about the Prime Asshole?”

He gives me a fist bump. “Nice. So what’s our next move?”

“That’s up to you. I’m going with the Aletheians, and so is Astrid. You can join us if you’d like. She’s going to invite Brenne and Ferro, once she fills them in.”

“Ferro?” Vin pulls a face.

“Yeah, I know, but she insists. Says he won’t be safe here.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“For her. I guess so.”

 “Wow.” He scratches his head, which shines with beads of perspiration. “That’s huge. I can’t believe Astrid’s taking that kind of risk.”

“She thinks she has no choice. Gant’s already too powerful.”

“But why doesn’t she just warn her dad?”

I shake my head. “Because she can’t get through. She tried early this morning, but Gant’s already blocking all unauthorized vidlink transmissions into and out of York. For all we know, he could have already seized control of Founder’s City.”

Vin balls his fists. “Man, if only I’d known a couple of weeks ago. I could’ve reached out and snapped that Peacock’s neck in person.”

“I know,” I mutter. “Hopefully, we’ll get another chance.”

“Damn straight we will.”

“So…” I say, weighing my words carefully. Should I encourage Vin to stay behind or join us? Neither path seems safe. “Think hard before you make your decision, because if we go with the Aletheians, we won’t be coming back. Gant will hunt us down, and so will the Aletheians once I run off to find my sister.”

“Enough!” Vin grabs my arm to cut me off. “Shut up, already. I’m in.”

“But you should think –”

“Don’t need to think. Haven’t you learned anything? Your fight is my fight. My blood is your blood.”

His eyes lock with mine as I absorb these powerful words. They’re part of the pledge all Guardian cadets make to one another every morning during assembly, words I must have uttered thousands of times over the past eight years. This is the first time they hold true meaning.

“Your fight is my fight,” I repeat. “My blood is your blood.”

“Glad to hear it.” Vin tilts his chin toward the generator room door. “Now let’s go rescue your sister.”

*

It’s already mid-afternoon when I climb up to the observation platform. Yesterday’s storm has blown past, leaving a fresh coat of snow on the deck. As I trudge through the powder, some crystals catch the sunlight, sparkling like diamond dust under a pale blue sky.

I survey the deck, eyes finding Astrid. She acknowledges my wave with a quick nod. Behind her, a silver-white crescent moon hangs just above the horizon.

The Aletheians gave us two days to make our decision, but we needed half that time. When I passed Astrid in the hallway ten minutes ago, she flashed the coin transmitter in her palm and told me to meet her here. We didn’t say much else, since Ferro had his arm wrapped around her waist.

“How many?” I’d asked, ignoring his glare. Ignoring the way his hand nestled in her back pocket. She’d held up three fingers in response.

I’d glanced up at Ferro, feigning surprise. “You’re coming too?”

“Yeah,” he’d answered with a menacing scowl, looking like he couldn’t wait for the chance to betray me.

But Astrid trusts him. Hey, she loves him, so I’ll have to live with that for now.

My mind turns to our one brief ‘moment’ in the tunnel. What was that all about? Who in flames knows? And more to the point, who cares?

Astrid’s words come back to me, only this time they sound so calculating. Cold.

When we get to the surface, things will be different.

This must be what she meant. Who knew our first real kiss would also be our last?

I dig my heels into the snow, waiting for Astrid to come to me. After a three minute stand-off, she finally does. She’s shivering through her many layers, but I resist the urge to wrap my arms around her.

She huffs when she reaches me. “Were you going to let me freeze over there?”

I shrug to let her know I’m in no mood for mind games. “Do you have them?”

She nods and reaches into her parka to retrieve both the coin transmitter and the RTC scanner, which she returns to me.

“Remind me,” she says. “Why did we decide to do this out here?”

To make sure the Aletheians pick up the signal, I think, but instead I say the answer we prepared for Gant’s ears: “You looked like you needed some fresh air.”

“Right.” She laughs nervously. “Well, my hand’s going to freeze.” When I don’t respond, she crosses her arms. “Something bothering you, Wil?”

That wasn’t in the script. I shrug again, knowing I’m acting like a petulant kid, but I don’t really care. “Let’s just get this over with,” I mutter, wondering if we’re saying enough to raise Gant’s suspicion. Now’s not the time to get careless.

“Would you at least stand here to block the wind?” she says, positioning my body.

I do as I’m told, standing like a statue as she tugs off her right glove. She glances around to confirm no one’s watching, although we both know there are vid monitors everywhere. The coin’s too small to detect though, and she’s hiding it well in her hand.  She gives me a nervous smile, then squeezes. Moments later, I hear a muffled beep.

“I’m feeling better now,” she announces, blowing into her hand before slipping it back into the glove. We’re supposed to head inside now, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she gazes into my eyes, questioning.

What does she want to know? Am I terrified? Of course. We may very well have just signed our own death warrants.

But that’s not it. She’s looking for something else, and I don’t think she’s finding it.

“The tunnel,” she murmurs unhappily. “I… I meant everything I said. And did.”

I nod and flash my best phony smile. “Good to know.”

Her expression sours instantly.  “But I guess I was wrong. Wrong about everything.”

“Whatever you say, Princess. Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill.”

The look she now gives me could make a snow ripper whimper. “There’s more at stake here than your pathetic little ego, Wil,” she says, breath steaming through her mask. “Grow up, little boy.”

Before I can think of a comeback, she turns on her heels and marches for the ladder.

“Damn it!” I growl into the wind once she’s gone.

Looks like we’re back to square one. Again.

And to make matters worse, I’m now late for my vid check-in with the Prime Asshole himself.

***

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