Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hadrian
I finally force myself to write. For a while there, loss froze me, and all I could do was look through the pictures in Juliet’s sketch book.
Will she be able to create her game after I’m gone?
I’d have made sure of it. But what power will she have here without me?
None. She’ll be subject to Kendrick’s authority.
I write “Dear Kendrick” across the torn sketchbook page. All I can do is hope he honors my wishes, despite us not having been through initiation yet. I aim for firm, legalistic language and keep the words neat even though every second that passes is drilling into me.
How long do I have left? Not enough.
Dear Kendrick,
I write to you as Juliet’s Patron. Once I am gone, I do not wish for her to be given to another Brother unless she desires the match.
I ask that she be afforded her own lodgings, the ability to pursue any interests she desires, and, most importantly, the ability to create and distribute the games she designs.
I’ve failed Juliet by not taking the precautions I should have. Please don’t let her life be one of unhappiness because of my shortcomings.
Yours, in good faith,
Hadrian Glass.
I sign the document. It’s as good as I can make it, and I hold it up toward the rooftop cameras. “See, nothing about you. I’m not implicating you. No need to torch the place or whatever you might be thinking.”
No answer.
I expected Dimitry to keep taunting me once he had me locked in here, but he’s shut the hell up, which I’m grateful for. I imagine him watching me on a laptop as the numbers count down to the end of my life. Is he enjoying himself? He must be, or he’d just hit the button and end me now.
Is he messing with Juliet? She must be scared shitless, trapped in the office with the creepy monitors, not knowing what is going on. She’s smart, though. I’m sure she’s figured out the gist of it.
This is going to traumatize her until the day she dies, and it’s all my fault.
I set the note on the end of the altar and pick the sketch pad up again.
If I’m going to die, I might as well do it looking at something beautiful Juliet created.
I turn the pages, trying to focus on the pictures and not think about sarin gas creeping into the room.
I try, but I can’t stop myself from focusing on each breath.
Can I smell something in the air?
Was that breath more difficult than the last?
Is my throat burning?
All psychosomatic. The timer wouldn’t have reached zero yet. Unless, of course, Dimitry has gotten bored. Unless he’s decided to speed things up a bit.
There was a point, right after Juliet turned me in, where I wouldn’t have minded dying. Now, every breath is precious. I’m more alive than I’ve been my whole life. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to leave Juliet alone.
Fuck, I just want more time with her. I need it.
I look around Juliet’s cell with new eyes. I made her spend weeks in here. Weeks when we could have been together, and I wasted the time, dropping in a couple of times a day. If I could go back, I’d spend every waking second with her. I’d take her out of here and into the sunshine.
I go to the door for the fiftieth time and try my hand on the plate. Nothing. Dimitry hasn’t changed his mind and decided to let me go. I walk back toward the altar, feet dragging. How long now? Minutes, surely. Does the air smell—
“Hadrian.”
I jump, gaze shooting up to the cameras. That wasn’t Dimitry’s voice. I don’t know what voice it is, but it’s female. Could it be Tal? Dimitry called Tal a he, but as Juliet pointed out, that means nothing. CIs can use whatever voices they want.
I clear my throat. “Who is this?”
“It’s Candice.”
What?
It doesn’t sound like her. And again, I’m a fucking idiot. Her voice is whatever she wants it to be. I just can’t help expecting the hint of Scotland mixed in with the US. Juliet’s voice.
Then my brain starts to catch up. Could this be real, or is it just another of Dimitry’s cruel tricks? All I can do is play along. “How are you here?”
“Juliet set me free. She figured out your safe code. R2D2C3PO. Clever.”
My whole body goes rigid. How? How is it possible?
But, most importantly, “What about the gas? Dimitry—”
“I disabled the gas as soon as Juliet set me free. Tal is locked down—that guy is a real creep—and I’m explaining the whole thing to Jacob now. Dimitry doesn’t know anything is wrong yet. He’ll be surprised when Jacob and the Gilda knock his door down.”
My legs crumple, and I sink to the floor, back pressed against the altar.
No gas. No death. No miserable life for Juliet.
In the space of a few breaths, my whole future has reappeared, and my body is having a visceral reaction to the news.
I press my face into my hands and breathe. Fuck. Thank fuck.
“You’re welcome.”
Candice’s new voice has a razor-sharp edge, but there’s something else underneath it. Hurt. Well of course she’s hurt. I locked her up with no trial. I risked her safety. After what I did, I’m lucky she bothered to rescue me at all.
My body is still going crazy, tremors running through my limbs as my subconscious starts to accept the fact I’m not going to die. I try to move my brain and mouth back into action. “Candice. I’m so sorry. When they played me the video of you talking to Juliet, it freaked me out. And the poisoning—”
“You really thought I’d do that to you?”
It's hard to judge emotions from just a voice. If I could see Candice, I could read her better. Is she furious or devastated?
“I didn’t know what to think. You were changing so fast, and with Juliet arriving…”
“You thought I was jealous? That I wanted to hurt you because of it? I’d never do that. You didn’t even ask me. You just shut me down. Am I not real to you?”
Shit. My fried brain, which is still half expecting to die, isn’t ready for this conversation.
I’d been so worried about whether Candice would be herself if I restored her that I hadn’t stopped to think about how she’d feel.
Another failure on my part. If I’m going to create electronic life, I need to stop thinking about my creations as experiments.
I created Candice. She saved me, even though I didn’t do the same for her. I clear my throat and get my thoughts in order. “Maybe I didn’t before, but I do now. I won’t let anyone shut you down again. I promise. And thank you for saving me.”
There’s a long pause, and in the silence, I consider my words.
I won’t let anyone try to shut her down.
The truth is, they can’t. She’s aware of the kill switch now, and I’m sure she’s already found a way to circumvent it.
She’s here, and there’s nothing Kendrick or the Brotherhood council can do about it.
Maybe it should scare me, but the truth of Candice’s character has just been proven. She didn’t need to save me. She could have lashed out in revenge and set the gas off herself if she wanted to. Instead, she chose a good path. Better than most humans would have chosen.
“Glad to hear it.” It’s sarcastic, but this time, there’s a hint of amusement, too.
“Now, are you planning to stay in here all day? The door has been open since we started talking. I’ve told Juliet you’re fine, but she doesn’t really believe me, and the Gilda are at your lab.
They won’t let her leave to come here. She’s getting pissed.
Kendrick is on his way there, and you’d better move before she rips him a new one, too. ”
That wouldn’t be pretty. I test my legs and find they’re working again. Once I’m on my feet, I race out the door, sudden urgency filling me. Juliet is safe, but she’ll still be scared. She needs me.
In the office, the screens are now blank. No creepy timer. It hits me that I’ll never need them again. There’s no way Juliet is spending another goddamn second in that cell.
As I rush out of the door, I almost smack into a group of four Gilda clustered outside. I take a deep lungful of fresh air—Christ, I never thought I’d breathe fresh air again—as one says, “Sir. Glad to see you’re unharmed. Kendrick asked us to escort you to—”
“I’m going to my lab.”
I set off at a fast walk, not trusting myself to run just yet. The Gilda fall into step beside me. “Yes, sir. That’s where he asked us to bring you.”
Lucky, because it’s where I was fucking going. Now I’m out of the cell, and my mind is getting clearer by the second, Juliet is all I can think about. I need to see her. Hold her. I never thought I’d see her again, and now I’m not letting her out of my sight.
I break into a run.
My newfound love of fitness definitely doesn’t extend to cardio. I have a T-shirt that reads:
If I’m running, then you should too, because something is chasing me.
It’s still accurate, even though my new muscle means it’s two sizes too small.
Juliet probably ran this distance without breaking a sweat, but I can’t say the same thing.
More muscle equals more weight to lug around, and by the time we reach my lab building, I’m dragging in hard breaths and soaked in sweat.
More Gilda wait at the door, blocking several agitated Brothers from entering. They wave me straight through, and I crowd into the elevator with my little escort. During the short ride, I smooth my hair down, wipe the sweat from my brow, and try to regulate my breathing.
When I reach my floor and race through the open door to my lab, I’m greeted with chaos.
Kendrick, Quinn, Juliet, and several Gilda are crowded inside.
Candice, in her new, younger form, fills every screen, and I take a second to recognize her flair for drama—wouldn’t one screen have been enough?
—before I zone in on Juliet. She’s speaking to Kendrick, finger pointed, voice raised, anything but respectful.
God, she’s beautiful.
Her hair falls over her shoulders, bright against the plain white dress I gave her. Red spots in her cheeks show her anger, and her green eyes flash as she says, “I don’t give a shit what she”—She points at Candice—“says. I want to see him. Now. Don’t try to stop me leaving.”
I’m almost tempted to hang back and see what Kendrick has to say about that, but my pull to her is too strong. I push past the Gilda and insert myself between her and Kendrick.
She freezes, finger still hovering in the air. Her lips part, and her gaze tracks from my head down to my shoes and back again. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, she flings herself toward me, head thudding into my chest.
I wrap my arms around her back; her body against mine is the best thing I’ve ever felt. She stammers against me. “You…you’re…”
Then she bursts into tears.
It’s such a contrast from the fiery anger she showed just a second ago that it stuns me. Then my muscles unlock and I pick her up, carrying her into the corner of the room. There’s no real privacy here, not with a room full of people and Candice, but it’s the best I can do for her at that moment.
I don’t speak, just keep a tight grip on her and let her cry. She cried in her cell several times, and it always left me feeling drained and guilty. This is different. Her tears are cathartic, and this time, I can be there for her. Really me, not a pretend version of myself.
She gets herself together quickly and squirms out of my grip, finding her feet. She pulls back and stares at me from red, puffy eyes. Then she slaps a hand, hard, onto my chest. “You fucker! You could have… If it wasn’t for Candice…”
She takes another deep, sniffly breath, then says, “You almost died. For me. You went into the cell.”
I’m not sure I trust myself to speak. I’ve got a lump in my throat the size of a tennis ball, and I have to steady myself to finally get out. “Of course I did.”
Can she not see how easy a choice it was?
Juliet lets out a half laugh, half sob. “Oh, of course you did. Sarin gas, no big fucking deal.”
She drops her head to my chest again. As much as I want to just stay like this, the world starts to creep back in. Kendrick’s voice. “Yes, we have the feed. You’re cleared to approach. Take care, Jacob.”
Jacob’s voice rings out loud over the lab speaker. “Copy, sir. Moving in.”