<<<Internal MRI message net>>>
sol.stice.bitch@mrinet.com: Fang. I can’t believe I’m freaking doing this. fisherxiaofang@mrinet.com: Who is this?
<Username abbreviation protocol active >
sol.stice.bitch: Okay, here goes. This is Robyn. You know, one of the other MRI PhD students? The one you tried to kill in Bulgaria?
fisherxiaofang: Derek, if this is you, this is a shitty prank. Your username – seriously? sol.stice.bitch: No prank. I’ll even add Derek in, if that helps.
<smithderek@mrinet.com has now joined the conversation>
smithderek: Fang? Are we still on for the gym later?
sol.stice.bitch: Hi, Derek.
fisherxiaofang: Derek – I don’t know who this is.
smithderek: Well, not just anyone can add users to a net convo. It’s encrypted, right?
sol.stice.bitch: Right. Everyone’s here. Except Catherine, of course, because she’s locked in a cell. Okay. Fang. Your brother Bohai is here with us. Don’t bother asking where here is.
smithderek: … Robyn?
sol.stice.bitch: Bingo!
fisherxiaofang: Prove it. Prove he’s there with you.
sol.stice.bitch: Bohai insists on including these facts as proof of identity.
1. Your favourite colour is aquamarine (I was expecting blood red, personally).
2. When you were eleven, you took cheek swabs and cultured them to prove to your parents that Bohai wasn’t brushing his teeth (I mean, I’m impressed if this is true).
3. When you broke your arm practising parkour (prohibited by your parents), you dosed yourself with whisky and set it yourself, and your parents never found out (hardcore, even for you).
fisherxiaofang: … shit.
sol.stice.bitch: Happy now? Thanks to Bohai, we’ve unencrypted the MRI’s system, so this message chain technically doesn’t exist. You can say whatever you want. smithderek: I want to say sorry.
sol.stice.bitch: Great! That fixes everything, doesn’t it? Not like Vulcan’s still got his animal-human armies and is killing teenagers in the streets, thanks to our research. Not like he’s about to take over the goddamn world. How could you betray us, Derek?
fisherxiaofang: We’ve been trying to figure out a way to stop Vulcan, but he has soldiers, resources, and this damn radio array …
smithderek: I never wanted this to happen. I’ll do whatever I can to make it right. We can work together. If you’ve cracked the internal system, you could take down the radio array, expose the base to the solar flare activity. It would ground operations, at least temporarily.
sol.stice.bitch: Already tried that. Radio array has physical on-site failsafes that need to be deactivated. Plus, primary servers are a no-go, even with Bohai’s magic touch. We have a plan, but there isn’t much time left. Will you help?
smithderek: Anything.
sol.stice.bitch: Fang?
fisherxiaofang: Me too. Where do we start?
sol.stice.bitch: Get my girlfriend out of that DAMN CELL.
fisherxiaofang: We’ve already done that.
sol.stice.bitch: … what?
fisherxiaofang: I’ll show you.
<heathercatherine@mrinet.com has now entered the conversation>
heathercatherine: Derek? Fang? What’s going on? I thought we were meeting in Derek’s room to go over Miranda’s files – has there been a change of plan? sol.stice.bitch: CATHERINE. Are you ok?
heathercatherine: I’m fine. Guys, who’s the new recruit? Is that a good idea? We have to avoid drawing suspicion, remember?
sol.stice.bitch: It’s Robyn.
heathercatherine: … really? I thought … I don’t know what I thought. What I think. sol.stice.bitch: I’ve been … away for a long time. I only just got back. I’m so sorry, Catherine. For everything.
heathercatherine: There’s so much I want to say to you, but not like this, not over the message net …
sol.stice.bitch: I’m going to get you out of there.
heathercatherine: I knew you’d come back. It kept me sane. I miss you.
fisherxiaofang: Uh, we’re still here. Kinda awkward.
sol.stice.bitch: Sorry. Okay. Here’s the plan.
<File shared>
< f**kthemri>
<download complete>
sol.stice.bitch: Read it, it’ll be deleted from the server in five minutes. See you real soon. Catherine – I love you.
<Conversation terminated>
Robyn buried her face in her hands, pressing her fingertips over her eyelids. “Catherine is all right. They’re going to help us.”
Kara gave her a quick thumbs-up and resumed tapping away at her computer.
“Ahem, may I?”
Robyn looked over her shoulder. Aster was clearly itching to claim the second computer. She vacated the seat and returned to the armchair out of everyone’s way.
Kate joined her, perching on the coffee table, nursing her coffee. “I’m still not sure we can trust them. After everything Fang and Derek have done …”
“We have to work with what we’ve got,” Robyn said, running a finger along the birthmark slashing her right eye. It tingled. “And we can’t wait for the solstice. We have to move now. Where are Eli and the others?”
Eli used a crowbar to wrench open the crates then heaved the metal lids onto the floor of the barn. The circle of waiting convergers stepped closer. Ariana and Sara reached inside and pulled out sleek launchers.
Sara’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I like this present,” she murmured, running her fingers along the weapon.
“They look like the same blasters Mikey and the others used.” Eli dropped the crowbar and, in dismay, turned to Robyn. “They won’t work without the implant chips.”
“Now that Vulcan’s made upgrades, this model is obsolete, so ...” Robyn reached into the second crate. She withdrew a hunk of glittering quartz and held it up for all to see. “We’re going to make some alterations.”
Catherine and Derek rode the lift down in silence. The doors opened onto a world of sandstone and fluorescent strip lighting. Derek nodded at the guards as Catherine pushed the medical trolley over the rough floor. The smell reminded her of Robyn’s earthship.
Once they were out of hearing distance, Catherine paused and looked around nervously. “This is the convergers’ gym?” As if in response, thuds and muffled voices drifted up the hallway. Once they reached the end of the hallway, Derek swung open the door and revealed the cavernous space beyond. The enormous gym had been hewn into the rock itself, with cathedral-height ceilings and thick sandstone walls. Convergers in active wear emblazoned with the white MRI stripe sparred on mats, lifted weights or sprinted the length of the gym, which was easily as long as a football field.
“Wow,” Catherine said. “The scale of this place is unbelievable.” She took a steadying breath and swiped open her tablet. Catherine pulled up a file and stared at the photo of a girl with a blonde ponytail. Spencer.
Derek surveyed the room. He pointed toward a line of punching bags, all still except for one. A girl with a blonde ponytail was laying into it like her life depended on it.
Derek stared at Spencer. In Bulgaria, she’d been the captain of Ariana’s team in the battle games. Since then, the converger had been to hell and back. Spencer had insisted on staying behind to fight the MRI troops, allowing Ariana and the rest of her team to escape. In the process, she lost her partner animal, an orca. Now she was just one of Vulcan’s pawns.
He shook off the memories. They had a job to do. “We have to be smart about this. Vulcan took some convincing that blood samples taken during intense aerobic activity would be beneficial for the main analysis. So, we’ll have to take multiple samples.” Derek counted the sterile syringes. “At least fifteen.”
“Then we’d better get started.” Catherine grabbed the trolley and began pushing it across the main floor. Hundreds of heads turned in her direction, but she ignored them and kept her eyes on Spencer.
As they approached, the blonde converger stilled and raised her eyebrows in greeting.
Derek launched into his official spiel. “We’re monitoring ATP levels during aerobic exercise for a multifaceted analysis approach. We require you to submit a blood sample.”
“Whatever,” Spencer replied and ripped off her gloves with her teeth. “Let’s get this over with.” She extended her arm and looked intently at Catherine.
Catherine tied a rubber tourniquet around Spencer’s arm and tapped for a vein inside her elbow. This close, she could see the glint of the implant chip at the base of Spencer’s neck.
Spencer turned and watched as Catherine inserted a catheter and drew out a vial of blood. “I haven’t seen you before.”
Derek wheeled the trolley behind Catherine to shield them from the main floor. Distracted by Catherine, Spencer didn’t notice him pull out a scalpel.
Catherine pressed a cotton ball over the puncture wound and taped a band-aid over the top. She leaned closer and whispered, “I have a message from Ariana.”
Spencer turned and stared at Catherine. “She’s alive?”
“And she’s coming back for you. For all of us.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek said, raising the scalpel. “This is going to hurt like a bitch.”
Fang flopped back onto Derek’s bed. “We still don’t know exactly when this attack will happen. What if Vulcan discovers our meddling before then? We’re no good to anyone in a cell.”
“I trust Robyn. You should too.”
Fang sat up and gestured at Catherine, who sat on the floor going through the contents of Miranda’s folder. “She’s barely been out for a week, Derek! Vulcan won’t just throw her in a cell next time.”
“What choice did we have?” Derek said. “She had to know.”
Catherine ignored them as she skimmed through the notebooks, thumbing the stack of photographs, waiting for the meaning of it all to drop into place. Robyn had dreamed of a temple for months, whispering in her sleep, and here it was; the crumbling temple, the mosaics, all of it.
“We can’t afford for Vulcan to become suspicious,” Fang said, cradling her face in her hands. “Clandestine meetings in your bedroom at the crack of dawn aren’t exactly subtle, you know?”
Catherine smoothed out a photo of a ruined temple on the side of a mountain. “Robyn was trying to find this place.”
Fang looked at the photo over Catherine’s shoulder. “My ex-supervisor, Miranda, found it and was utterly obsessed with it.”
“The way Robyn described it, it was beautiful. Gold ceiling, swirling mosaics glittering on the walls, not a ruin like this. But then, she only visited it in the spirit world.”
Derek crouched beside Catherine and plucked another photo from the mess on the floor. It showed a dirt-smeared woman laughing beside a tanned young man in a bamboo rice hat.
Fang shook her head with a sigh. “See? Miranda. It doesn’t tell us anything.”
Derek switched on the desk lamp to better study the photo. “Look at the man beside her.”
“It’s probably just some poor PhD student helping with the dig,” Fang said, returning to her position on the bed. “I’ve been through every single photo in excruciating detail, Derek. There is nothing to find that we don’t already know.”
Derek continued staring at the picture, his eyes glazed. Catherine watched him, hoping he might have stumbled across a vital piece of the puzzle. Fang sat ramrod straight, watching them both, a thin line of sweat beading her lip.
Derek snapped to attention and grabbed the photo from Catherine. “This is Brock.” He held the picture right up to Fang’s face so she could not look away. “And I remember what you did to me in Bulgaria.”