“UNTIE HER,” I say, and when no one makes a move, I scream, “Let her go now!” I feel like I’m losing it. Not Ash. Not sweet, gentle Ash . . .“UNTIE HER,” I say, and when no one makes a move, I scream, “Let her go now!” I feel like I’m losing it. Not Ash. Not sweet, gentle Ash . . .
“Rowan, I think you should . . . ,” Flint begins.
“No,” I shout, and I’m surprised at my own strength, standing up to these two men. Where Ash is concerned I can do anything. “She’s going free, and she’s going to help me rescue Ash.” I stare evenly at Lachlan. “And you’re going to help us.”
“Out of the question,” Flint answers for him. “Even if we let her live—and that’s still very doubtful—she can never leave the Underground. We can’t take the risk. And I’m very sorry about your brother, but we simply can’t help him. Neither can you.”
“You can’t stop me from trying to save my brother!” My voice comes out in a snarl, fury rising in my throat.
“We most certainly can. It won’t be pleasant, but we can lock you up, drug you . . . whatever it takes to protect the Underground from exposure.”
“You mean I’m a prisoner? I thought this was supposed to be a free society, where second children could lead normal lives.”
“There’s no such thing as normal on this Earth anymore,” Lachlan interjects.
I ignore him. “You’re all about protecting second children, right? Well, my mother and brother have been protecting one for sixteen years. My mom gave her life protecting one! My brother has been arrested because he kept me safe for so long. You have to help him.”
“Rowan,” Lachlan says very gently, “your brother must be in the Center prison. I’m so sorry for him, and for you. To lose everyone important to you all at once . . .” He breaks off, and I see his eyes glisten with tears that don’t fall. He blinks them quickly away. “But there’s nothing we can do. There’s no way any of us can get inside the Center prison.”
“I can get you in,” Lark says.
WE LISTEN TO her idea. It sounds feasible, but . . .
“No, it wouldn’t work,” Lachlan says. “That would get us in, but once inside we’d have to maneuver within the building. We’d need IDs, clearance. None of our contacts have that kind of power. We’d have to have someone very high up on the inside to give us security codes, access passes.”
I think for a moment. “Someone like the next vice chancellor?” I ask.
They look at me in surprise as I let them know my father has been handpicked by the chancellor to be his second in command.
“But he would never help you,” Lachlan protests. “Not if what Lark says is true.” He asks Lark, “Did he really turn in his own son?”
She nods. “My father overheard some Center officials talking about it, though I don’t think anyone outside the government knows yet. I don’t know how he managed to protect himself, but your father’s job—and his life—are secure. And he’s the one who signed his own son’s death warrant.”
I hear Lachlan suck in his breath, feel his hand on my arm. I shake him off.
“I don’t need your pity—I need your help. I know my father is a wicked man who would do anything to save himself.” No, that’s not quite true. I never, ever imagined he would do this to Ash, his beloved son. I always knew he would have turned on me, turned me in, if it wasn’t that Mom and Ash would have suffered, too. But Ash? I wouldn’t have thought it possible, even from him.
“We can’t help you,” Lachlan says again, so gently. “It’s an impossible mission. Suicide. We can’t put what we have here, and our future plans, at risk.” I can see the strain in him, the tension of believing that two opposing things are absolutely right. He wants to save Ash, for my sake, and because Ash helped a second child, and, I think, because Lachlan simply believes that it is his duty to help people in need. But he also has an unshakable commitment to the Underground, to keep it safe no matter what the price. He would give his own life for the Underground. He will give Ash’s life, too.
Would he give my life? I wonder.
“Not can’t,” I correct him. “Won’t.” I stare at him without flinching so he will understand how deadly serious I am. “If you won’t help me, I won’t help you.”
For a moment Lachlan’s mouth works without uttering a sound as he tries to process, to come up with an argument. But I think I see something in his eyes that tells me he approves. He can’t go along with it, but if I give him no other choice . . .
Flint spins me around by the shoulder, and this time Lachlan doesn’t intervene. I think I understand why. “What do you mean?”
I regard him coldly. “I mean simply this: if you don’t help me rescue my brother, I won’t help you get the implants you need from the cybersurgeon.”
Flint starts to fume and sputter, a far cry from the collected leader I’ve come to know. “This is preposterous! We take you in when you have no one, nowhere else to go. You depend on us. If it wasn’t for us, you and every other second child would be dead. And you think you can defy us?”
My only reaction is to blink once.
“You heard me,” I say evenly.
“You stupid girl, do you think we won’t make you tell us what you know?”
I raise my eyebrows slightly, though I can already feel my lungs tighten. “You tried that before,” I tell him, trying to throw as much disdain into my voice as I can. “Didn’t get very far, did you? As I recall you didn’t get any useful information out of me even when I thought you were a Center official. What do you think you’ll get now that I know you’re just a cringing second child skulking in an underground lair . . . with my brother’s very life at stake.” I’m talking so much more bravely than I feel.
“You’d break,” Flint says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.
“She would,” Lachlan says to my surprise. “But how long would it take? We need to get the lenses soon. Particularly if there’s any risk that the traitor in the Edge might know about us. We need to set our plan in motion, and it can only work if I have the lenses. Of course you can break her, eventually. But what if it takes days? What if she dies in the process?”
I know exactly what he’s doing, but I give no sign. Flint looks uncertain, and the uncertainty makes him angry. I don’t know much about government, but I don’t think easy anger is a good thing in a leader.
“You want to save what you love,” I point out. “So do I.”
“Outside,” Flint snaps to Lachlan and turns on his heel. Lachlan follows, and as he passes me he winks.
Alone, I wrap my arms around Lark and hold her tight. I can feel her body trembling, and I embrace her until the tremors start to subside.
“What is this place?” she asks.
Maybe I shouldn’t tell her anything. What she already knows—or must have figured out by now—could get her killed. But she’s my friend, and she should know. She made a mistake revealing secrets before. She’ll know to be more careful now.
“It’s called the Underground. It was designed as a backup for Eden, if anything went wrong. Now it’s a secret sanctuary for second children.”
Her face lights up, as if she’s forgotten all about her torture, her uncertain fate. “You have a home! A place just for you! I’m so happy for you. But . . .” Her face falls, and I can see her lively mind calculating. “But won’t I be able to see you? Won’t you be able to leave, or can’t I visit?”
“Lark, there’s so much I don’t know yet. I don’t know what the Edge does, but the Underground is serious. A lot of lives depend on this place, and keeping it secret.”
She looks a little sulky, then shakes her head, her lilac hair lashing her cheeks. “You’ll sneak out,” she says with confidence, a mischievous smile on her face. “You’ll come to me. I know you will.”
And even in the middle of danger and doubt I feel the irresistible pull of her, and know that no matter what happens, no matter what the risk, I’ll try to see her again.
Lachlan comes in, stopping short when he sees us embracing, our faces so near, Lark’s eyes sparkling. A quick frown darkens his brow, clearing almost before I know it’s there.
I pull away from Lark awkwardly, one finger catching in a snarl of her disheveled hair. I don’t know which one of them to look at. I owe so much to both of them. But what I feel—for both of them—doesn’t stem strictly from obligation. Feelings, new and strange, swirl in me, and right now there’s only one thing I can do. Ignore them. It’s like being awed by the grandeur of a mountain peak, and fearing the coming struggle to climb it . . . while you’re still fording the raging river at its base. The mountain of Lachlan and Lark, of their kisses, looms, inescapable before me. But it’s not immediate, and I have to turn my mind away from it.
“So?” I ask, making myself defiant with my hands on my hips.
“Flint has agreed,” he begins, and by a quirk of his mouth I can tell the more accurate words would be has been persuaded, “to let me help you rescue Ash.”
With a quick gasp of relief I reach for him . . . and stop myself.
“With certain conditions,” he adds. “First, Lark will be drugged before we leave. She’ll be unconscious, and when she wakes she probably won’t be able to remember much of the last twenty-four hours. Is that acceptable?”
I look to Lark, and she nods.
“Not that we don’t trust you, but,” he narrows his eyes at her, “people make mistakes.” She bows her head, cringing. “I’ll come for you later, you’ll get me inside the Center, and you will never make any attempt to find the Underground, or contact Rowan, again.”
“But . . . ,” both Lark and I say at the same time.
“Never. If you’re seen anywhere near any of our entrances, or in Rowan’s company, you’ll be killed. No second chances.”
“But she’s my friend,” I protest.
Lark doesn’t object, just takes my hand and gives me a look that says Agree, for now.
I’ve snuck out, I’ve risked myself to be with her before. Later, anything can happen. For now, Ash is my priority. That, and making sure Lark leaves the Underground safely. Raging river first. The mountain will always be there.
And then I think, did that condition that Lark and I never meet again come from Flint . . . or from Lachlan?
A pleasant-looking young man with bottle-green second child eyes comes in with a syringe, and Lark holds out her arm obligingly. “See you on the other side,” she says, and it is only as the clear liquid plunges into her vein that the thought occurs to me.
I whirl to Lachlan in a panic. “It’s just to make her unconscious, right? Not the lethal syringe?”
“Rowan, what do you take me for?” He looks genuinely hurt.
“Swear it!” I cry, grabbing him by the shirtfront.
He takes hold of my hands. “Rowan, I swear it. Trust me.”
Why does everyone keep saying that to me?
It isn’t long before Lark starts to drift off. As her eyes grow heavy, I give her a kiss on the cheek. On the periphery of my vision I see Lachlan avert his eyes. A little while later a large man comes in and scoops Lark up like a limp doll. I feel an emptiness when he takes her away.
“He’ll bring her to her house. She should be reviving at that point. She can let herself in, and with luck, forget about her little adventure in the Underground.”
“But remember enough to help us.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “I think that girl would do anything for you.”
I bite my lip, and don’t know what to say.
“How did you convince Flint?” I ask instead, changing the subject in what I hope isn’t a too-obvious way.
Lachlan laughs, and it is such a relief to see. I like the smiling, joking Lachlan. He makes me so comfortable, so . . . happy. I just don’t know how to react to the other Lachlans: the fighter, the leader . . . the man.
Lachlan drops his voice to a low confidential murmur. “I think what got him was the very real possibility that I might die in this raid on the Center. We’ve always butted heads, and you know he thinks he should be the one to get the implants, and alter our plan. So he’s letting me help you. Me, alone. His reasoning is this: When I don’t come back, when I’ve failed in the rescue, our part of the bargain will be done. We tried, and now you’ll have to take him to the cybersurgeon.”
What a merciless man Flint is. The fight to save second children shouldn’t be a power struggle between its two most charismatic leaders. “I wouldn’t give him the lenses if you . . . didn’t make it.”
He touches my shoulder, then seems to realize what he’s doing and jerks his hand away. “You held out admirably before, but make no mistake—he would have made you talk. His ways are . . . not my ways. I don’t believe that causing pain can ever bring about a better society. Death, perhaps, under certain circumstances. But there’s enough cruelty and suffering in the world. I won’t add more if I can help it.”
I feel such a warmth for him, filling my chest, spreading along my limbs, making my fingertips tingle. Why is my body reacting in such a visceral way? Why is it reacting to two different people? Is it only that I’ve never met anyone before? Maybe I’m enamored of the idea of people . . .
“Isn’t there something you can do to get the better of Flint?” I ask.
“A girl after my own heart,” he says with a wink. I feel my cheeks flush. “There’s no convincing Flint to help you—or help me, for that matter. But there is certainly a way to force the issue, with your help.” He leans close and whispers in my ear. So—if you’re agreeable—we’re going to turn the tables on Flint. Tonight, we go to the cybersurgeon and get my lenses.”
I have a flash of suspicion. If I help him, and then afterward he refuses to help me save Ash . . .
But no. I trust him.
“And then not only will it be too late for Flint to get the lenses for himself, but I’ll be so valuable to the Underground that they won’t dare risk letting me break into the Center alone. He’ll have to commit a few more people to help me. I’ll have a much better chance of success with a little backup.”
It was brilliant, and I beamed at him. But one thing was wrong.
“Not just help you,” I say. “Us. I’m going, too.”
And though he tries for a long time, nothing he says can dissuade me. I won’t let him go alone into danger.