Sarah let out a grunt of frustration. “That’s exactly the opposite of the point I’m trying to make. Bryson and I could’ve easily said no. We could’ve run away. We didn’t have to follow you onto the Path. It was our choice, and I don’t want to hear you blame yourself again. Especially about my parents. Kaine probably would’ve come after me and my family eventually. I know way too much. Michael, you’re my best friend, end of story. I’m part of this.”
Michael couldn’t allow himself to feel the relief that her speech should’ve brought. “But that’s just it,” he answered. “I’m not even real. I’m a computer program. How can you say that a string of code is your best friend?”
She got up and walked over to him and sat down on the bed. “Because I can,” she said. Then she pulled him into a tight hug and whispered directly into his ear. He could feel the warmth of her breath.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. All I know is you are you. You’re Michael. I could tell from the very first time you started talking. I saw it in your sweet dorky eyes.”
“But they’re not my eyes,” he mumbled. He thought of Gabriela, whether he should tell Sarah about her.
“But you’d never seen my real eyes, either. What’s the difference? The Sarah you’ve always known was basically a string of code, too. We are our thoughts and memories and personalities. I’m Sarah and you’re Michael. You’re the same. So can we please move on and figure out what we’re going to do?”
Michael found it almost impossible to believe that someone could be that much of a friend. He wanted to kiss her—he didn’t know how else to express what he felt. But it’d be just his luck to screw everything up by trying to pull that off.
“Thanks, Sarah. Seriously. I’d try to say something life-changing, but it’d just come out sounding stupid. You have no idea how relieved I am.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You and Bryson are all I’ve got now. We need to find him, Michael. He can help us. And then we need to stop Kaine from whatever he’s up to and find my parents. Could he be planning to replace them with Tangents?” It was as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until she said it out loud. Sadness clouded her eyes as she looked at him.
Michael squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find your mom and dad,” he answered. “We’ll figure things out with Kaine. I just … what if looking for Bryson … what if they do something to him?”
Sarah sighed. “He’s already in danger, and we can’t do this without him. We’ll just have to be smart and careful.”
Michael loved it that neither of them had even considered caving to Kaine, reporting for duty—or whatever it was—like the Tangent wanted them to. He thought about Gabriela one more time, but it still didn’t feel right to tell Sarah about her. Later would be better.
“Okay, then.” It was time to stop feeling guilty and get to work. “I’ve got a list of things we need to do.”
The next day, the two of them were at a table, eating cereal. The kind with lots of marshmallows that lied and said it was good for you on the package. And Michael felt safe. He was confident that both his and Sarah’s new multilayered identities would hide them from whoever was looking for them, both the good guys and the bad. They’d also found an apartment that rented by the month. After the encounter with Gabriela, Michael had decided he needed to move.
Somewhere along the way, Sarah had forgotten the rule about not talking with your mouth full.
“It’s not a bad place, really,” she said after shoving another spoonful into her mouth. She looked around at the small kitchen and the adjoining living room—empty—then down the hallway, where there were a couple of bedrooms. Each contained two items: a single mattress and a fully functioning, brand-new Coffin. The coffins hadn’t been cheap, and Michael halfheartedly promised himself to pay back the Porters someday. For the money, if not for stealing their son.
“Well, not really how I imagined my first place on my own,” Michael said. “You know, living next to cranks and prostitutes.”
“Cranks?”
“Yeah.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Crankheads? Druggies?”
She gave him a blank stare.
Michael smiled. “You’ve lived a sheltered life.”
“You were a computer program,” she countered.
“Ouch.” He took another spoonful, chewed, swallowed. “I guess we can’t put this off anymore. Time for the Sleep. You ready?”
Sarah put her spoon down. “I’m ready. But you’re sure you agree with me?”
“Yep.”
She’d been insistent that instead of trying to find Bryson in the Wake, they needed to Sink into the Sleep and search for him there. They had far more skill at hiding themselves in the VirtNet than they did in the Wake, and it would be safer for them and for Bryson. They’d purposefully held off on contacting him until they went in—no reason to risk testing how well they’d set up their new identities until they couldn’t wait any longer.