I gaped at the Guardian.
I had one hand on the knob, the door merely cracked. I hadn’t been able to wait any longer. The thought of Black Suit alone with Min was still poisonous to me, even now.
Min was staring at her father. Words seemed to bubble on her lips but didn’t spill out.
He cleared his throat. “Trust me, it’s better this way. For all of us.” He rose and stepped past Min, then paused. Reaching back, he put a hand on her shoulder. Min didn’t pull away, but every muscle in her body tensed. “We’re minutes away, kid. I’m connecting the MegaCom. It’s almost over.”
Black Suit nodded to me and exited, disappearing deeper into the complex.
Min’s chin dropped to her chest. I pulled her into my arms. She didn’t resist, but was still coiled like a spring. “Tack gave himself up to save the group,” I began, but she flinched and pushed away.
Twin fires burned in her eyes. “We owe him the same. Come on.”
Min fired into the hallway, forcing me to scramble to keep up. I followed on her heels as she stormed through the living quarters, ignoring the others, her mouth set in a grim line.
“Where are we going?” I hissed.
“I’m taking a player off the board.”
Min slowed at the paired doors to the lab wing, carefully pushing one open and peeking inside. She held still for a second, then slipped into the white corridor beyond. It was empty, with no sign of the Guardian.
The last door before the clone chamber was slightly ajar. Min hurried straight for it.
“He went in here,” she whispered. “To the MegaCom chamber. There’s a blast door on the other end of this hallway just like the others.” She pointed to a keypad. “It can be sealed—that’s how Sarah trapped me before.”
Min spun to face me. “I’m going to lock the Guardian inside.”
“What good is that going to do?”
“I don’t know, but it’ll buy time. Run tell Sarah to engage these locks in sixty seconds. She’ll also need to change the passcodes somehow, but she can do it. Make her do it.”
A thousand questions dogpiled in my head, but Min shoved me with both hands. “Go! Count from now!”
I turned and ran, counting Mississippis. A few people hailed me as I raced back through the living area, but I ignored them, sprinting for the conference room. I reached the doorway in twenty seconds. Sarah looked up from the laptop, surprised, wiping the corners of her eyes. Had she been crying?
“Back for more?” she said, flashing a bitter smile. “Where’s your girlfriend, Livingston? Regretting past choices?”
“Door locks!” I gasped. “The ones you used to trap Min. Engage them right now!”
“Why would—”
“No time! I’ll explain everything after, just trip the locks and change their passcodes. Do it now, Sarah. Please! I swear it’s important.”
Sarah eyed me skeptically. Then she turned and began typing. A mental alarm went off—sixty seconds had elapsed. I was about to urge her to hurry when she emphatically tapped a final key and sat back, crossing her arms. “Okay, done. Now what was that about?”
I exhaled. “The doors are locked?”
“You want me to repeat myself? I can still manipulate a few silo systems from here, if not the Program itself.”
Just then Min came charging in. “It worked! He’s trapped inside.”
“Who’s trapped?” Sarah demanded. “Inside where?”
Min rushed to Sarah and pulled a chair close again. “We just locked the Guardian in with the MegaCom. Can you see if he’s already connected the hardware?”
Sarah held up both hands. “Slow down, sudden best friend. Why are we imprisoning the guy who’s gonna release us from dystopia?”
“Because we’re not murderers, Sarah. Even you. Now, can you please tell me whether the system is connected or not?”
Sarah sat back and pressed her palms to her eye sockets. She took a long, deep breath, then raked both hands through her hair. Head tilting skyward, Sarah stared at the ceiling. “Pushed to where I want to go,” she muttered. “By the girl I said lacks commitment. What are the odds?”
I blinked at Sarah, saw an equal befuddlement take shape on Min’s face. But neither of us had a chance to speak. With an odd groan, Sarah lurched forward and began typing. Min opened her mouth to say something, but Sarah put a hand to her face and shushed her. More keystrokes, then, “The cloning system is online. This whole command interface is pretty idiot-proof. All the Guardian has to do to start the process is set the timer and engage, although we’re supposed to physically get into the tubes for some reason. Then, boom. Wake up on the other side.”
“And you can do it from here?” Min asked.
Sarah slumped back in her chair again, eyes filled with exasperation. “No, Min. I told you, I can’t do anything to the Program without the Guardian’s password and fingerprint signature. So this little sideshow is pointless. All we can do is sit down here and die of boredom until we let him out and he starts the cloning process.”
Min rose, began pacing. “Can we get eyes on him right now? I never found a way to see into that room.”
“There are cameras. Not accessible from this laptop, though. That was your mistake. Only a high-level security interface—there’s one in the command center, and the master terminal in the security hub.”
“Let’s go.” Min shot for the door, seemed relieved a next step had been placed in front of her. In the hub she didn’t sit, but rather began pacing the narrow room instead. “Show him to me.”
Sarah sat at the master terminal. “I know these cameras well. I spent days watching them, waiting for you to slip up and go into the computer room. And you did,” she finished, singsong smugly.
Min ignored the jab as the MegaCom appeared on a wall screen. It looked the same as before—tall, black, and imposing. The section I’d shot open to escape with Derrick was magically repaired, but a smaller panel stood ajar.
The Guardian was standing before the blast door, shoulders heaving as he pounded it with a fist. Sarah tapped a key and his voice filled the room. “—useless and stupid! You can’t do anything without me. So open this door and let me finish the job!”
Min glanced at Sarah and raised her palms. Sarah reached over to a small black box and flipped a switch, then tapped a button beside it. Min nodded, pressed. “In case I wasn’t clear before, I’m not going back without everyone,” she said into the mike. “So either give me the password or prepare to spend the night in there.”
The Guardian grabbed his head with both hands. Grunted in frustration. “I can reset out of here any time I need to, Min.”
Sarah spoke before Min could. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but won’t you just reappear in place? I disengaged the reset points. And I thought you said we couldn’t harm each other in this phase. Can you even reset at all? Plus, how would you do it? Are you going to run into the wall until it kills you?”
The Guardian stiffened. Was silent for a second. “I can use the escape route. It’s a long walk, but—”
“I locked and scrambled that blast door, too.” Sarah giggled wickedly. “Fool me once . . .”
“Then I’ll disengage the cloning system! You won’t be able to—”
“That doesn’t change your position,” Min said. “I’m not letting you out until you agree to regenerate everyone.”
A spasm crossed the Guardian’s face. “Exceeding parameters might crash the system. I’m not going to jeopardize everything I ever worked for—including my daughter’s life—and the future of humanity, on some sentimental high school bullshit.”
Sarah sat bolt upright. “Daughter? What’s he—”
“Then we’ll do it without you!” Min shouted. “Sit in there with your computer and rot!”
Min snapped off the feed.
Sarah was staring at her in shock. “So many secrets today,” she said finally, her cool returning. “Well, listen up, daughter. I know that probably felt good, but he’s right. Nothing’s changed. We’ll have to let him out eventually.”
Min sagged. I saw the fight leak out of her. I started pawing at my chin, desperate for a way to help.
“The cloning program,” I said abruptly. “Show it to me. Where does the password go?”
Sarah shook her head, but pulled it up. “We’re gonna play the guessing game? I tried for two solid hours once and got nowhere. It’s not our birth date, FYI. And it doesn’t matter if we get it right anyway. We can’t guess the Guardian’s fingerprint, and we need that, too.”
Min sat down next to Sarah. “Try ‘Nemesis.’”
Sarah rolled her eyes, but complied. Password denied.
“Try ‘Virginia Wilder.’”
Denied.
“‘Fire Lake.’”
Denied.
It went on like that. Sarah bitched and moaned—demanding details about Min’s secret family relationship—but she entered everything Min suggested. Nothing worked, and we were back where we started. The Guardian could’ve chosen any phrase to protect the system. We didn’t know him as a person. Guessing was hopeless.
Then something occurred to me. We did know one thing about the man.
We knew he was Min’s father.
“This whole thing,” I began, eyes on the carpet. “He did it for you, Min.”
The girls stopped carping and looked at me. I tried to expand the thought, talking it out in hopes an answer would present itself. “The Guardian rigged Project Nemesis to include you. It was always about saving your life, first and foremost.”
Sarah’s gaze switched from skeptical to intrigued. Min was squinting at nothing, her attention turned inward.
I went still, fingers entwined and pressed to my lips. I was close. I could feel it. “Did Black Suit ever give you anything, Min? A token. Or trinket. Maybe something your mom wore? Any tiny thing that might tie the two of you together?”
Min’s eyes rounded. Then, slowly, she nodded.
She turned to Sarah, spoke no louder than a whisper. “Juilliard.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed. “Juilliard?”
Min nodded again, her whole body trembling. “It’s hard to spell. J-U-I—”
“I know how to spell Juilliard,” Sarah snapped, inputting the word. “I’m surprised you do, but if you think—”
A female voice purred from the speakers. “Welcome, Dr. Bolton. Please depress the touch plate for identity confirmation.” Yellow lights began snaking around a small plastic square on the desktop.
Sarah cocked her head, blue eyes shining with reflected light. “Okay, wow. Nice job. But we’re still stuck.”
Min had a hand over her mouth. It took me a moment to realize she was crying. I stepped over and wrapped my arms around her from behind. Hugged as hard as I could. Sarah turned awkwardly.
Min sobbed for a few moments. Then she gently peeled away. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she reached out and reengaged the microphone.
“Dad?” she said in a tremulous voice. “Can you hear me?”
“I can, Min. You know that guessing my password won’t do you any good.”
Sarah reached for the keyboard, no doubt to put the feed onscreen, but Min stopped her with a hand. The monitor remained dark as Min spoke again.
“The password was your gift.” Her voice was thick, as if each word cost a heavy price. “You said you did all this for me. I want you to prove it. Let me into the system.”
“I can’t do that, kiddo.” There was sorrow in his disembodied voice. “For your own good. And you can’t break in, either. The system uses my DNA, not just a fingerprint. Nothing you can do will fake that. Now please, let me out of here so I can finish my work.”
Min waited a long time before replying. “If you ever truly cared about me, you’ll let me do this. You’ll let me try.”
“Min, the MegaCom—”
“May be stronger than you know. It’s lasted for ages. I believe it can sustain us all.”
A long pause. “You’d risk everything—the whole world, Min!—on a hope?”
Min laughed softly. Nodded though he couldn’t see. “What’s more human than that?”
Goose bumps erupted on my arms. I loved her in that moment, wholly and completely. “I would, too,” I said roughly, adding my voice to hers. “We all go or nobody. I . . . I think the betas should get to decide.”
“Min. Noah.” The Guardian’s tone was inching toward desperate. “Think about what you’re asking. Literally thousands of people poured their lives into this project, with the single goal of guaranteeing humanity’s survival as a species. I can’t gamble that on . . . emotion.”
Sarah’s fist hit the desk. “Oh, screw that,” she said harshly. “And your freaking God complex. We can decide this for ourselves. If we don’t survive, no one will be around to regret it anyway.”
I glanced at her in shock. She shrugged, looked away. I did not understand Sarah Harden.
“You convinced her, too?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“Dad. Please.”
There was a long, audible sigh. Then nothing. I was tempted to ask Sarah to call up the camera, but something about the darkness felt right.
The lights around the touch plate flashed, then died. The terminal in front of Min woke, a command box blinking onscreen as the computerized voice returned. “Identification verified, Dr. Bolton. How may I assist you?”
Sarah gasped. Her hands shot to the keyboard. The camera feed reappeared onscreen. The Guardian was stepping back from the MegaCom. He put his hands in his pockets.
“He did it,” Sarah whispered. “He gave us access.”
Then, as we watched, Black Suit put his back against a metal wall and slid heavily to the ground. “Okay, Min. You decide.”
“Thank you,” Min breathed, barely able to form words. “Thank you for . . . everything.”
Min disengaged the mike. Wiping her eyes, she faced Sarah. “You can make this work?”
Sarah reopened the application containing the eliminated codes. Copy. Cut. Then she switched to the regeneration program, calling up the list of sequences. Paste.
A red warning flashed. The voice returned. “You have exceeded the maximum number of allowable regenerations. Please delet—”
Sarah called up another box and clicked Enter.
“Override confirmed. System ready for Phase Three regeneration.”
I was barely able to contain myself. “Is that really it? Are we good?”
Sarah was trembling. “I think . . . yes. If we engage the system, it’ll try to complete its instructions.” She grabbed Min’s forearm and forced eye contact. “There will only be one shot. By attempting this, we may kill everyone instead.”
“You’re not afraid to gamble, are you, Sarah?”
Sarah full-on laughed. “I hate gambling.” Then her gaze grew inscrutable. “But you’re not the only one who . . .” She trailed off, then shook herself, her blue eyes hardening as they flicked to the camera feed. “What about him?”
Eyes closed, the Guardian was resting with his head back against the steel wall.
Min ran slender fingers over her lips. “When we’re ready to engage, set the timer for two minutes. Then release the security doors. He won’t have time to stop anything.”
“No offer to join us? A bit harsh, isn’t it? He did let us into the system.”
Min was staring at her father’s image. “He’s finally doing the right thing. I don’t want to give him the chance to sabotage himself.”
There was nothing else to say. We divided responsibilities. Sarah and Min set to work on the program, scanning the procedure files the Guardian had left scattered around the command console. I walked to the living quarters and yelled from the hallway. “Everyone, listen up! The system’s about to engage.”
People spilled into the corridor. Seventeen anxious faces regarded me.
“Inside the clone room is a pedestal with your name on it. Atop each one is a metal tube. That’s your regeneration unit.”
“You mean coffin,” Darren joked, and some laughed.
“Think of them as escape pods,” I countered with a wry smile. “Ready to take us home. Everyone needs to climb inside and lie still. The process is supposed to be painless and timeless. We’re almost there, guys.”
“Where’s the Guardian?” Ethan asked, edging forward from the back of the crowd. “Why are you telling us what to do, Noah?”
I took a deep breath. Sarah wanted to lie, but Min had been adamant. The others had a right to know. I agreed. “Sarah, Min, and I have taken over control of the system. We locked the Guardian in the computer chamber and hacked the MegaCom.”
Eyes bulged. I kept going, fast, before a revolt could break out. “We’ve found a way to bring everyone back. Even our eliminated classmates. I won’t lie—it’s a risk to override the Program’s restrictions, but I believe it’s one worth taking. No one should be left behind.” I quickly explained what we were proposing, and how we could execute it.
Voices erupted, some shouting angrily. Fear spread like a disease. My stomach clenched as one person after another thundered in protest. Then someone screamed above the rest, and the room went silent.
Ethan strode straight for me and I tensed, my heart sinking deeper than the silo. How would we control a riot down here? This only worked if everyone cooperated.
He grabbed me by the shoulder, then spun, facing the group. “Noah’s right.” His gaze seared into the others. “Don’t you see? He’s giving us a chance to get our dignity back. We . . . we did awful things out there. People are gone who shouldn’t be. Why should we go forward if they can’t?”
Murmurs. Nervous eyes and shifting feet. Ethan had surprised everyone, perhaps even shamed a few. But they were still uncertain, worried about their own survival.
“They can really do it?” Derrick asked, chewing his knuckles. “Sarah and Min know how to make it work?”
I nodded. “The Guardian even gave us permission. We just have to trust the computer.”
Derrick ran his hands over his scalp, then shrugged. “Hell, why not? We’ve been living inside this beast for ages, or whatever. Might as well let it take us all home.” He scowled at the group. “Come on, y’all. You know we can’t just leave people behind. Not if we can help it. Who wants to live with that on their soul?”
Slow nods. Arms around shoulders. It was now or never to get a vote. “Show me hands. Who’s willing to give the others a chance?”
One by one, they all went up. Even Rachel’s at the last.
I felt a surge of love for these people. “Whatever happens next, that vote is something we can be proud of. Now get to your escape pods.”
The matter decided, we walked to the clone room. Beyond the doors was a surprise—every pedestal gleamed under brilliant overhead light. As people began searching for their tubes, voices erupted in shock.
“Noah, look at this!” Derrick called. I hustled over and climbed a pedestal to join him. Inside the tube, a still form appeared to be sleeping. I recognized the face immediately.
“It’s Hector!” I blinked, then the answer came. “When Sarah added the eliminated codes, they must’ve come online.” Elated, I gripped Derrick by the arm. “We’re ready!”
Derrick nodded. “Unless we flame out in an explosion of overloaded circuits.”
“Real nice, dude.”
“Just saying.”
Derrick reached over and hugged me, slapping hard on my back. “You did good, Livingston. See you on the other side.” He jumped down before I could recover.
It took a little time, but everyone found their places. People slipped inside the tubes. I circled, checking each one, making sure everything was airtight and secure. Then I noted the locations of the girls’ pedestals and hurried back to the security hub.
They looked up as one.
“Good to go,” I said, flashing a thumbs-up.
“Did you tell them?” Sarah asked. Min was chewing her bottom lip.
“They voted. Unanimous.”
“Seriously?” Sarah pressed her fists to her cheeks and shook her head. “You must’ve given one hell of a speech. How’d you persuade Ethan to risk his neck?”
“Ethan gave the speech. These people aren’t who you think they are, Sarah.”
She blinked. “Well well well.”
Min shook off her astonishment. “Are they loaded?”
I nodded. “Not just them. The eliminated players are in their pods, too.”
“Tack!” Min was already rising, but Sarah pulled her back down.
“Sit! If this works, hugs all around later, but for now stay focused.”
Min frowned sourly but nodded, dropping into her seat. She started calling out commands for Sarah to input, the two working together like NASA engineers.
I paced behind them. Would this work? Were we idiots? The head programmer of Project Nemesis had specifically said this was a mistake. That we’d fry the MegaCom and erase ourselves. But we were doing it anyway.
A spike of anxiety tore through my gut. I realized I very much didn’t want to die.
Earth. I wanted to see it again. Breathe real air. Have a heart that beat.
“Okay.” Sarah turned to Min. “We’re ready. Any last words for your father?”
Min glanced at the screen. Swallowed. A trembling hand switched on the microphone.
“Dad?”
“Yes, Min?”
“Do you want to come with us?”
His head rose, as if considering the idea. Then he slowly shook it. “The future belongs to you guys, Melinda J. I’m the past. Good luck.”
A tremor passed through Min. Her voice cracked. “I forgive you,” she whispered.
The Guardian’s whole body relaxed. “Thank you, Min. Thank you.”
Min wiped her nose. Then her hand shot out and killed the mike again. “Open the doors.”
Sarah looked at her sideways. “But I thought you—”
“He’s not going to stop us.” Min cleared her throat. “I don’t want to keep anyone caged anymore. Let’s leave that in the past, too.”
Sarah pinched her nose, then shrugged. Tapped a few keys. Onscreen, I saw the keypad beside the door flash green. The Guardian glanced up, but made no move to stand.
“Okay friends, moment of truth.” Sarah pointed to the master terminal. The counter was set for two minutes.
Engage?
“Once I start the program, we just hustle down and get into our pods. The computer will do the rest. Understood?”
“Yes,” Min said. They both looked at me, and I nodded.
We all stared at the command for an endless moment. I glanced up at the security feed, noticed that the MegaCom chamber was empty.
My lips parted, unsure, but Min spoke first.
“Do it.”