Chapter Twenty-Five

September 20X6, Stanford

“Thanks for coming with me, Kerri.” Eric/Nash leads me away from the Engineering Quad down a cement walkway lined with palm trees.

“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” I grit my teeth. His fingers still dig into my upper arm and, momentarily forgetting I’m supposed to be “the quiet twin,” my accent slips.

“If you believe in free will, you always have a choice.” He raises his eyebrows, reminding me to stay in character, that even though we’re approaching the abandoned outskirts of campus, we can’t be sure who’s listening. “And clearly you believe because Dr. Nasif is super excited to have you on our team.”

My heart spasms. Dr. Nasif has been messaging him nonstop as we walk.

“I’m on her team?” I paste on a smile and make sure to nail my accent. “So, my scans must have shown a bias toward free will.” And I still don’t know why you let her see my brain. Heat flushes through me. I keep coming back to Allard’s insistence that I trust him, and I don’t know if it’s leftover trepidation because he tricked me in the past or what, but I just…can’t.

“They did. But Cara’s didn’t. She’s going to be on Dr. Schilling’s team.” He guides us across a long-abandoned parking lot that is teeming with grasses like the earth is trying to reclaim it.

“Really?” I do my best to sound surprised for the benefit of the cameras. “We’ve never been separated before.”

He squeezes my arm tighter, a gesture of sympathy that I take as a threat. “Dr. Nasif is surprised at the discrepancy, too.”

No kidding. I silently fill my lungs to still my rising pulse. What else surprised her? Did she notice we’re not twins, that our brains don’t match the scans that brought us into the program? Does she recognize my brain from the DNA in my Book of Secrets?

We arrive at McMurtry, the open-air art department building that once upon a time must have been the height of design. With slanting glass walls, it’s all corners and angles, offering peek-a-boo glimpses of sky from every vantage point. But now it sits forgotten, overrun with weeds. Maybe through AMPs it’s augmented to appear well kept, but I doubt it. To me, it’s obvious university funds are not being allocated in the development of art and design, but in the development of the Super Brain.

Eric/Nash relaxes his grip on my arm. His stride is long and steady, like we’re two friends out for an evening stroll, but I’m in knots. As we walk past neglected rock gardens on the main level, pink evening light filters down from a giant eye-shaped cutout in the wood-paneled ceiling, flushing the glossy sculpture-like benches that are strewn about in a rosy glow. I shiver despite the warm night, reminded we’re being watched.

“How did Dr. Nasif get the results so quickly?” My voices echoes against concrete and glass and I narrow my eyes at him. “I thought you were supposed to do the initial analysis?” We pass the faded remnants of a mural on our way up a metal staircase.

“Dr. Nasif is an expert. She was able to calculate your bias as your brain was being scanned in real time.” He tilts his face skyward, making a show for the bots, as if Eric can hardly believe such a thing is possible.

“Did you know she could do that?” Still unable to fathom why he’d willingly let her in on my secret, I widen my eyes in a silent plea to switch out my scan before she can take a closer look as we emerge on the second floor.

“Not exactly,” he says with a tiny nod that tells me he’s on it.

I still don’t know what’s going on, but I believe him and some of my tension lifts. At least he’s going to do something.

“She hasn’t had a chance to examine your scan—or anyone’s—closely, though.” He pats my shoulder as we cross through the remains of a library. The blushing sunset pours in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating rows of empty gray bookshelves casting long shadows in the dusty light. “She’ll get to them tonight. But, from her brief examination of your brain, she noticed some other interesting things. She’d like me to bring you to her tomorrow morning at seven so she can ask you some questions.”

I freeze. “Okaaay.” I slowly draw out the word so my voice doesn’t reveal the quaking in my belly. Surveying his benign expression, I try to see through Eric to Nash, to determine if he’s somehow on board with surrendering me to a Super Brain doctor.

“And I could tell from your scans that you’re a person who likes to have some alone time. Since you’re new here, I thought I could help with that.” A flirtatious glint enters his eyes as he shows me to a set of chairs facing the windows in a secluded corner hidden by book stacks. “This building has the best views on campus and there aren’t usually many people around. I come here to think sometimes.”

“It’s nice of you to let me in on such a well-kept secret.” Even though I’m dying to get real answers to my questions, I play along, reading into the clues he’s giving me, registering that this place is important.

“I trust you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“Of course.”

We fall silent, staring out the windows into the surrounding trees, and it feels like I’m back at Keystone, suspended on a platform hidden in the branches. All that’s missing is the fresh pine air. I relax a little, lulled into an unfocused daze. But after two minutes tick by, my body temperature rises, and I cross my arms over my chest, wondering why he’s stalling. Am I ever going to get straight answers out of him?

Finally taking a hint, he smirks. “There’s some great study corners over here, too.” He leads me through the stacks to the other side of the library where we duck through a small entry in a steeply slanted wall to a tiny study space that contains a desk and a file cabinet.

“This is where they hide the cool stuff.” He touches his index finger to his lips before tapping his ear and pointing skyward, signaling that even though we can’t be seen, we can be heard. “Like, there’s this book 2013. To the naked eye the pages are blank, but it was printed with firefly ink so it has to be viewed under ultraviolet light to be read.”

“Very cool.” I silently note there are several slanted rooms like this one that are hidden from the cameras. Who knows what treasures they hide.

He touches his thumb to a pad on the cabinet drawer and it clicks unlocked. After sliding the drawer open, he searches inside and produces an ultraviolet light pen that he hands to me.

I slip the pen into my tool garter. Maybe he plans to use 2013 to leave me messages? To give me answers?

Next, he takes a thing that reminds me of the Walkman Garrett and I used to listen to the Warhol tape out of the cabinet. “Why don’t I tell you everything I know about brains and free will? To help you prepare for your meeting with Dr. Nasif.” He pushes play on the tape player and the tape inside whirs to life. His voice sounds, reciting a lecture.

“Seriously?” I mouth. I go boneless, pretending I’m melting.

Pursing his lips, he makes a show of removing his wrist screen and AMPs, suggesting I do the same.

It’s about time.

After taking out my AMPs, I tap out a quick s-o-r-r-y to Stewart, knowing I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do later.

Once we’ve ditched our tracking devices, he puts up a scrambrella. We huddle beneath it and make our way across the library then up the stairs to the rooftop garden. Tinged orange from the glow of the setting sun, the once-manicured landscape is tangled with weeds. Picking our way through the thicket, we circle the cutout oculus that looks down to the main floor before climbing the pitched roof that leads to the building’s highest point. We cross the flat terrace until we reach the edge of the building and sit, shaded by the umbrella, our legs dangling over the ledge.

The campus sprawls below us, sparkling in the bronze light before vanishing into the distant mountains. A mild breeze hinting at orange blossoms and eucalyptus wafts up as we watch the sky fade from red to gold. We’re pressed so close our thighs touch and being this close to him reminds me of sitting on the pontoon in Lake Tahoe, before everything exploded, when I thought he was someone I loved.

The memory makes my skin crawl.

It’s the first time I’ve been alone with him since the “Ring Around the Rosie” performance in San Francisco last year and he’s the only person here, besides Garrett, who knows who I really am. He’s the one piece of my old life I didn’t know I was bringing with me. And if what Allard says is true and he’s here to protect me, why would he show the enemy my cards? My nostrils flare. He better have a good explanation.

“The tape only runs for half an hour, so we don’t have much time.” He breaks the silence.

“You better start talking then.” I jerk my head toward him. “How could you let her scan me? You know about my brain. You’ve read my Book of Secrets and Dr. Nasif probably has, too. If she recognizes me, it could blow our cover and I have a really hard time believing Allard would have sent me here if the plan were for me to be scanned.”

Nash grunts. “Allard isn’t here. She’s not on the front lines and she doesn’t know what needs to be done.” He faces me, his gaze searing. “Don’t worry, Elisha. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. As long as you listen to me and play by my rules, you’ll be just fine.”

I startle that he seems to be taking matters into his own hands, but surprisingly, I believe he’ll protect me. Still, I narrow my eyes, unwilling to let him off the hook. “That doesn’t explain why you let Dr. Nasif see my brain.”

“Listen.” He sighs. “There’s more than just Super Brain research going on here. There’s something bigger and Dr. Nasif is involved. I don’t know how, but I want to find out.” He fixes me with a flinty stare. “And you’re going to help me do that.”