9

BRIDGER

MARCH 11, 2146

The first thing I notice when I enter Mom’s apartment is a burnt smell. Shan is standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair, light brown like Dad’s, sticks up everywhere. At thirteen, Shan is as tall as me, but he’s all arms, legs, and elbows.

“What happened?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

“I overcooked the protein pie again.”

I snort. “I take it you were in a Sim Game?”

“Yep. I was running for my life during the 2056 Cali earthquake. It was a blast.” He takes a bite of a sandwich—probably a vegi-spread, his favorite—and says, “You might want to avoid Mom. She’s in a mood.”

“Yeah, what’s new there?”

Shan shrugs. “Hey, just thought I’d warn you.”

“Right. Thanks.” I smile, but he’s already turned away to head back in the kitchen. Shan has an appetite that could rival someone twice his size. That’s typical. Talents manifest in kids when they’re around thirteen or fourteen. One of the symptoms is they’re always hungry.

A sickeningly sweet smell envelops me as I continue down the hallway. Mom’s lame attempt at covering Shan’s burnt supper.

The whole apartment is so different from Dad’s. Mom’s into what she calls Retro Classic, whatever that means. The furniture is weird-looking. Everything is white and black, and the walls are set to an obnoxious shade of red. At least she left my and Shan’s rooms alone.

“It’s about time you got here,” Mom says when she spots me. She’s lying on the white lounge in the living room, watching the news feed on the TeleNet screen.

I keep walking.

“I’m talking to you, Bridger,” she says. She swings her legs off the lounge and stands with her hands on her hips.

I focus on putting distance between us. All I want to do is view the DataDisk in peace and avoid another fight with her.

But she won’t leave things alone. I attempt to activate the lock command when I’m in my room. She overrides it and storms in.

“Oh, no,” she says, pointing her finger at me. “You’re not going to pretend I’m not here.”

I decide to tell her what I know she wants to hear. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did. Are you happy?”

Mom crosses her arms and glares at me. “Oh, so you’re sorry now? At least you can admit that, but it doesn’t change things. You’re in trouble and you don’t seem to care.”

I can feel my blood pressure shooting up. “I do care. Can’t you cut me some slack? It’s not all about me getting in trouble. Vika is in a coma! Or do you even care about that?”

“Of course I do! That’s the whole problem. Chancellor Tyson explained everything to me, but what if they still hold you liable? Your career will be over, and there’s no telling how that could affect me or Shan. There’s so much at stake here and you seem oblivious to it.”

I want to shake her. I need her to get out. Now.

“Mom, can I be alone for a while? Please.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds before she says, “Fine. And I am sorry about Vika.”

“Thanks,” I mumble. That was unexpected, her making a semi-caring statement.

She takes a step toward the door, then turns back to me. “I want your DataLink.”

My head snaps up and I glare at her. “What did you say?”

“I said give me your DataLink. You’re not going to disrespect me. Your father may have let you get away with that, but I won’t.”

Fure, she’s got to be kidding. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “That’s crazy!”

Her face flushes, but she continues like I never interrupted her. “You’re grounded. After a week, I’ll reevaluate based on your behavior. You will not communicate with your friends, and you will not leave this apartment other than to attend Academy matters. Is that clear?”

A string of curses crowd my thoughts, but I don’t say anything. Instead I give her a look that lets her know what I think of her stupid punishment.

“I said is that clear?”

I nod slowly, hating her more than ever. She’s said nothing but nasty things about Dad for years and I put up with it. This is beyond unreasonable. If I wasn’t under investigation at the Academy, I’d leave without another thought.

“Now give me the DataLink.”

My hands shake as I unfasten the DataLink and hand it to her.

She lets out a sigh. “I know you think this isn’t fair, but you’ll have children of your own one day and you’ll understand.”

After she leaves, I fist my hands, trying to keep them from shaking so hard. I want to punch something. Instead I sink on my bed and rest my head in my hands. I don’t get her. It’s like she’s trying to do everything possible to ruin my life. She’s just flaunting her authority over me because she knows I can’t defy her.

All I want to do is check Dad’s DataDisk. That’s it, and she’s taken away the thing I need to view it.

I’m about to give up when I think of Shan. Or rather, his DataLink.

I tear out of my room to the kitchen. Shan is still in there stuffing his face. Yeah, he can do some serious damage to anyone’s food supply. Serves Mom right.

I check to make sure Mom isn’t around and take a seat at the table next to him. He gapes at me as if I’ve suddenly materialized like a Space Bender. “S’up, Bridger?”

I study him for a moment. He’s growing up fast. I can’t believe this is the same kid I used to be so close to when I was younger. Lately we’ve grown apart, though. All because he’s such a mama’s boy. I hesitate just for a second, then finally say, “Can I ask you a favor?”

He raises an eyebrow. “That depends.”

“I need to borrow your DataLink.”

“What for?”

I’d forgotten how nosy he is. I haven’t been around him a lot lately. He definitely gets that from our mother. “Not long. I need to ask Elijah something and Mom grounded me from mine.”

“Ouch. Sucks to be you.”

“Right. So can I have it?”

“Well, I might be persuaded to part with it if you do something for me.”

I lean back in my chair, semi-impressed he’s learned how to negotiate. “What exactly do you want?”

“I need more credits. Mom said I’ve used too much already this month and there’s a new Sim I want to download. The 2011 Japanese tsunami.”

That Sim hasn’t been out long. It’ll cost me more credits than I like. But it’s worth it. “Okay, but only if you let me borrow the DataLink whenever I need it for the next week.”

“Only in the evenings and it’s a deal,” he says.

He slips the DataLink to me, and I zip back to my room. I activate the lock again and sit at my desk. Sweat beads across my forehead. I quickly swipe it away and snap Shan’s DataLink on my wrist, then pop in the DataDisk. A holographic menu hovers over the band. Three files are displayed. I select the first one.

It’s a copy of an article from an old-style newspaper called The Willow Creek Tribune. It’s dated July 8, 2013. Adrenaline floods my body as I scan the first paragraph. It’s about a sixteen-year-old ghost named Alora Walker.

That’s the name Dad said to me.

I grin. So I’m not crazy.

I quickly read through the rest. Alora was found dead in an abandoned burning house on her aunt’s property. She’d also been shot in the head. The case was declared a homicide.

I close the file and select the next one. When it opens, I recoil. It’s Alora’s obituary, but her picture is what I can’t stop staring at—she could be Vika’s twin. Or at least her sister. Alora’s hair is a slightly darker shade of blonde than Vika’s, and her face is a little rounder.

I realize there are people in the world who look alike, but this is too much of a coincidence.

Hopefully the last file will have more answers. I open it, and a short message appears.

Leithan, thank you so much for agreeing to help me. These are the only things I could find about Alora. Please save her.

I read the message several times. I can’t believe it.

If it’s correct, then whoever wrote this note asked my father to do something illegal. Something he would never do.

Only, he did.

A chiming sound interrupts my thoughts, indicating the door lock is being deactivated. I drop my arm as Mom enters my room. I want to shout at her for barging in again, but one look at her face silences me. There’s nothing hostile there, only sadness.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Bridger, but Chancellor Tyson just called. Vika is dead.”