CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Nova
THIRTY DAYS LATER
Freedom in the Freedom System was no longer a lie.
The South Alta Freedom System Lab – along with every other Freedom System facility – had reopened as Unity Pain Relief Centres, where anyone with helical disease could walk in and be cured, their chip removed at no cost to anyone but Dominion.
Every time someone stepped through the doors, I smiled. Thousands had already signed up, so it was safe to say my cheeks hurt, but it was a good type of pain – well worth it.
Apollo stood beside me as we coordinated intake.
Over the last month, we’d participated in research with scientists around the world to refine a painless extraction method.
Apollo no longer needed to hold a scalpel, performing illegal procedures in a dilapidated warehouse.
I was able to lend my voice, telling the truth about the pain I’d experienced, helping shape protocols for safe chip removal.
Together, we’d discovered a way to peacefully disrupt the Pain Carrier–Pain Giver connection, completely neutralizing the last hellflare to be nothing more than a light brush against the skin.
For the first time in my life, people outside my family and friends sought my expertise, acknowledged my pain.
It was empowering.
It was only the second day of the South Alta Unity Center’s opening and the line curled out the door and around the block – Pain Carriers and natural carriers alike.
A revolution was under way, led by Brenson Moorehouse as the newly elected mayor of Alta Bay.
The emblem of his supporters became the same logo etched on the glass doors of the building: the aquamarine lightning bolt against a burning sun.
The symbol of a new society on the rise.
The world had finally started to question itself.
How had it reached a point where people were so desperate for income they were willing to live with pain and lie about its effect on their bodies?
How had we made it to a place where scientists ignored what they knew to be true – that no one’s pain threshold is inherently higher than another’s?
Apollo nudged me. ‘Miss Scream Queen is here.’
He’d coined the nickname for Estelle after their first meeting. I thought it was cute. She hated it.
She groaned. ‘He called me Scream Queen again, didn’t he?’
‘I stand by what I said before,’ Apollo said. ‘Who screams about illegal activity when the police are outside a ghost-network command center? Just you. You’re lucky I soundproofed the place.’
They both laughed as Cas strolled up to us, grinning at Apollo before putting an arm around my shoulders.
‘You’re never going to let her live that down, are you?’ Cas asked.
‘Would you?’ Apollo smirked. ‘Anyway, you still owe me a surf lesson.’
‘Oh, you trust me now?’ Cas teased, and Apollo punched him on the shoulder. It was nice to see their friendship grow – something I didn’t think anyone saw coming.
‘Sandra, George – can you cover for us for a sec?’ I waved over two volunteers so we could take a quick break in the ‘employees only’ lounge. We crashed on to the couch, Estelle passing around her fizzy lemon sours.
I made a face, declining, and Cas tossed me a peach tea instead – from his favorite brand and surf sponsor. Cayde Harlowe had fully taken him under their wing.
‘Estelle and I have five minutes before we relieve you and Apollo,’ Cas said. ‘What’s waiting for us out there?’
‘Yesterday we had seven thousand sign-ups. Appointments are already booked out to next spring. A few people opted for the waiting lists at the Santa Cruz centers and further down the coast. We need the renovations for the Westlake and MidCity centers approved soon.’
Cas popped the top on his drink. ‘Leo is on the MidCity solar-electricity crew, right?’
‘Promoted to foreman just last week,’ I said.
Estelle sipped her drink, tapping her jaw at the tang. ‘Hmm. How are you, Castor? Is there a trial date yet?’
I squeezed Cas’s hand. Gemma was out on bail, but their grandfather and mom were still under lockdown in a private prison with no communication.
He’d tried connecting with his sister, but she wouldn’t return his calls, and he wasn’t welcome at the estate, even though Cas had learned his grandfather had protected the property from seizure by putting it in Castor’s name.
Cas truly believed Gemma hadn’t known what she was doing during her business trips, but investigators had linked twenty-eight newly activated helical disease cases back to her.
‘No trial date, but Gemma’s out and my pop’s planning to come back to town for a bit.
I’m still crashing with Perla for now while searching for a place.
Pua wants in on the apartment with Jaiden and me – we’ve got some tours set up in MidCity.
’ Cas sighed, shaking his head. ‘I’m playing it down. It’s still a lot.’
‘What you did took guts.’ Apollo focused on his drink. He was still waiting to see whether the police would reopen the case into his mom’s death. There wasn’t any new evidence – yet.
‘Thanks. But it wasn’t just me.’ Cas tapped his knee against mine, and I smiled.
‘It was all of us.’ I looked around the group. Estelle and Apollo had already gone back to poking at each other, Cas laughing along. He’d lost his family, but I hoped he could see us as his new one. After everything we’d been through, we were stuck together for life. I could feel it in my veins.
After Cas’s shift, we rode our matching solar rides – his ocean blue – through South Alta, the sun setting on the long day.
His shift ended with eight thousand additional sign-ups for Pain Relief.
The process was voluntary, the Freedom System payment dispersal not yet dismantled, but it was close enough.
Lawsuits stacked up while the Foxes’ assets were seized.
And Pain Carriers weren’t the only ones lining up – Pain Givers, sickened by Dominion’s lies, wanted their chips removed too. The world was shifting, healing.
We waved as we passed Charlie and Rox’s Butchery and Seafood, the two of them outside with Daddy, playing dominos while an old radio blared the news.
President St James was under investigation for her potential involvement in what had already been dubbed the Fall of Astrum.
The order of succession crumbled after the reveal at city hall, and the House Minority Leader – a member of the Legacy Party – was now acting as the commander-in-chief of the free world.
Emergency elections were being organized, the power of the country readying itself for the next era.
I didn’t understand every repercussion, only that the stock market had crashed, a recession loomed on the horizon, and things would get worse before we as a society righted ourselves.
Cas cut behind the library, and I followed.
My mural shone in full view now, new panels added, curving around to the other side of the wall.
I’d painted three scenes of Lucille B. Anarcha: one where she stood smiling through her hellflare; one inside the extraction chamber; and one cured, surrounded by others in the city.
I’d flipped the city’s motto – to divide our burdens is the greatest gift of all – and reworked it to never silenced, always heard.
‘Race you to the pier,’ I called out.
We rode on toward South Beach – me winning, of course. After hopping off our bikes, we double-locked them to the racks and bought one non-dairy strawberry swirl milkshake to share.
‘I think I deserve a chance to redeem myself.’ Cas nodded toward the carnival games. ‘I’ve been practicing.’
‘According to Pua, you still won’t beat me. I don’t need to embarrass you again.’
‘I need to talk to Pua about oversharing.’
Hand in hand, we walked to the end of the pier, watching what had to be the most radiant sunset I’d ever seen.
Waves lapped at the support beams below us.
I loved the sound of it, the colors in the sky, the company I had.
Things had gone back to being so easy between us.
Late nights on FaceStream, texting all hours of the day.
Cas and Skye spent time together online via his and Leo’s old holo gaming deck, him losing badly despite claming to be a pro.
Pua really hadn’t been lying about Cas’s skills outside of surfing.
Except for his charm – he was still as smooth as ever.
‘Well, if you don’t want a rematch,’ he said, ‘I’ve planned a few other date options. Enough to keep us busy until graduation.’
I raised both brows. ‘Someone’s feeling confident.’
‘Dating someone like you will do that to a guy. I can’t slip up. Your dad might have a gentle voice, but I’m pretty sure he was a linebacker in a past life. He’ll rock me if I mess this up.’
I lifted my chin. ‘He will. So will Leo. But luckily, we’ll never have to see that happen.’
The sky shifted from the darkening purples and blues to bright pinks and oranges. ‘I don’t know what’s happening,’ I said softly, ‘but it’s beautiful.’
‘Yeah,’ said Cas, not looking at the sky but at me. ‘She sure is.’
We kissed, the world around us dropping away.
It was slow and intentional, and every bit as electric as our first. My body tingled every place he touched.
Cas gripped my hips, and I leaned into the ecstasy of the moment.
Nothing could break us apart. But then a searing light flashed, tearing us away from each other.
I rubbed my eyes. A loud boom rocked the earth, the pier shaking beneath our feet.
I buckled in fear. Panic churned through me, and I had no time to process as white noise filled my ears and popped.
Cas grabbed my hand without a second thought and we ran back to the boardwalk.
Car alarms blared then short-circuited, the city lights flickered off.
Streaks of fire trailed across the sky. People shouted, pointing up. Meteors fell.
I squinted. ‘Those aren’t meteors.’ Those are satellites. ‘Stars – that’s the lightning grid.’
A group of protestors ran on to the beach with their banner. ‘It’s here. It’s happening!’ They helped people swimming back to shore while chaos unraveled. Down the coast, a helicopter spiraled out of control, diving too fast. Another boom sounded from the other direction, flames bursting into view.
‘They were right,’ Cas said in disbelief.
I checked my solisPhone. It was fried. I scanned the city. Not a single light. The glassways to the north were nothing but a dark cloud of hulking metal. Then a satellite crashed straight through it.
‘Shit.’ Cas yanked me to him, and we were running again toward our bikes.
Skye. Leo. Daddy. ‘I need to get home.’
‘I know, but I gotta get you off the street first. Out of the open.’
‘Cas, I’m –’
‘I’m scared too.’ He stopped, kissed my fingertips. ‘Run fast for me, OK? Race you to the bike rack.’
I nodded. We ran past kids crying, their mom trying to console them and start her car. I tried to yell for them to run. If what I thought had happened was true, it would never start. Everything relying on electricity was shot, overloaded.
A second solar flare had hit.