“Go on.”
“You know what it means to be in a neural network—it’s like swimming in the sea. There’s no way to avoid coming into contact with any pollutants.”
Dev pulled off his knit cap with an impatient hand. “You think this ‘rot,’ ” he said, for want of a better word, “seeped into all those minds?”
“The Net isn’t locked to any one location,” she said, “but your location in the Net is determined partly by where you are in the world. This group would’ve been in Sunshine, and that means they would’ve occupied an isolated section of the Net. If they all arrived together, the rot would’ve started to work on them at the same time.”
“Some of the ones who were killed,” Dev said, barely able to wrap his mind around the sheer magnitude of the slaughter, “chances are they would’ve broken, too—if they’d lived a little longer.”
“Yes.” Katya wrapped her arms around his neck. “If this has happened once, Dev . . .”
“We need to record this. We need proof.”
“The Council will deny it. No one is ready to believe.” A tight kind of anger filled every syllable. “I know—we tried so hard to tell people the truth, but it’s like they can only take so much at a time. They’ll say you’re simply trying to create political—”
“I know.” He broke off the flow of frustrated words with a kiss. “I need the records for my people.”
Understanding lit those pretty eyes from within. “Oh. I see. Did you bring a recording device?”
“My cell phone has a high-enough resolution and plenty of memory.”
Neither of them said anything for several minutes—though they both knew they had to get out of the car to document what they’d found. Katya listened to the steady beat of Dev’s heart and in that, somehow found courage. “We can do this.”
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you know what I see when I look at the blood?”
“Tell me.”
“The possible future of the Forgotten.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “Why couldn’t we have left the madness behind when we left the Net? Why do our abilities always have to come bundled with darkness?”
Katya had spent many hours considering the same. “If they didn’t, the Psy truly would rule the world—that flaw, that built-in Achilles’ heel, is the only thing that makes us breakable, the only thing that stems our arrogance.”
His fingers threaded through her hair, pushing off her cap. “With power comes temptation.”
“Yes.” She thought of the people who’d worked in the labs with her, so many of them gifted, so many of them unable to see that what they were doing was monstrous. “That much power, without any controls, changes a person from the inside out.” And what emerged wasn’t always anything human in the wider sense.
“Emotion is a control.” Dropping his hand from her hair, he picked up her cap. “But it’s not the complete answer.”
“If it was,” she murmured, letting him put the cap back on her head, drawing his tenderness around her like a shield, “Silence would have never come into force.”
“Circles.” He reached out to open the door. “Ready?”
“Yes.” But it was a lie. She’d never be ready to face the death that stained Sunshine a dark, nearly black red. It didn’t matter. This had to be done. Somebody had to bear witness to the loss of so many minds, so many dreams and hopes. “Yes. Let’s go.”
PETROKOV FAMILY ARCHIVES
Letter dated January 5, 1979
Dear Matthew,
I almost can’t believe that we made it. The ShadowNet, as everyone’s calling this new network, is a vibrant, chaotic place. Given our numbers, it’s not as dense as the PsyNet, but it’s alive. And that’s all that matters.
The ostrasizing has already begun. We called your uncle Greg to tell him we were safe. I could see the relief in his eyes, but all he said out loud was not to call him again. He’s afraid that if he shows any feelings toward us, the Council will take your cousins away.
I cried afterward. You saw me, wiped my tears. And I knew with every beat of my heart that I’d made the right choice.
I love you so.
Mom
CHAPTER 41
Night fell with predictable swiftness but they were done by then. Neither of them brought up the idea of staying on. Dev simply took the wheel and they headed out. They’d been driving an hour when Katya broke the silence. “I’m starting to remember things I wasn’t ready to before.”
“Anything like this?”
“No.” A long pause. “My memories of Noor’s and especially Jon’s time in the labs are almost complete.”
He didn’t try to talk her out of her guilt—that, he’d realized, would take time. The woman Katya had become would never be able to walk away from those darkest of memories. So he kept his tone matter-of-fact, his words the same. “She seems unaffected, and he’s a strong kid.”