“Diac invented the overwriter before anyone knew it existed. But as soon as word got around, he ended up dead—and the tech disappeared. That’s what Nero wants. He’ll torture anyone with any answers until he finds it.”
“That’s why he’s been Ravaging scientists who were invited to the G-1K,” Kara whispered. “He’s sorting through their memories, looking for clues about the overwriter.”
Lydia nodded. “If they catch us we’re worse than dead. We’d be shells. Every memory—every part of your mind that makes you you—ripped out, your humanity severed.”
A part of Aly hadn’t believed it was true until now. He looked over at Kara. “Those people on the zeppelin . . . You were right.”
She nodded. Her face was stone-cold. “They’d had the procedure. All of them.”
“Activists, scientists, prominent figures—they’re disappearing, and being fed out into the world with no cube. There’s no more time,” Lydia said, edging closer. “Nero will put you up on that screen and make you say you murdered that little girl. And then he’ll execute you to set an example.”
Aly was definitely going to throw up.
Lydia took the device from Kara and held the projection of the prison layout, pointing out the safest route that had them evading any wandering Tasinn. “First right, sprint; third left, sprint; seventh left, normal pace . . .” She listed them as sequences of seven, and Aly barely thought as he took off, repeating the sequence in his head. It was the kind of distraction he needed, hustling on autopilot just like he’d done in boot camp. Follow orders, do them quick.
They sprinted some more, stop and go, kneeling, hiding, passing through more air locks, and figuring out which direction was up and which was down. And even though he’d gotten beat down by gravity, sore and bruised, falling every direction when they slipped between sections—he was getting into the groove, finding his feet again, and racing past both of them. Lydia was losing her breath, and at one point Aly and Kara had to put their arms together around her waist to hurry her along. She was limping. The last fall had been worse than it looked.
But they had weaved their way toward the south quadrant and were nearly there.
“Last door. Stay low,” Lydia whispered as she touched the keypad and swiped them through.
“How did you get access?” Aly asked carefully.
“She hacked in,” Kara said. He thought he’d noticed Lydia’s face change, a flinch, almost—like an invisible insect had flown straight for her eyes. Vin had had that same look the day Aly left him behind on their ship.
They followed Lydia into a cold garage, fifty meters long maybe, all-terrain vehicles parked neatly in stalls. “There’s the line of confiscated droids,” she said pointing to the row along the wall. Aly found himself sprinting for them, calling Pavel’s name—which was pointless since Pavel was powered down. Aly found him, eventually, compacted into his dome shape and hidden behind some boxier load-bearing models. He spun Pavel in a circle, looking for any external damage and feeling just like a little kid again, getting exactly what he wanted for his birthday. He thought about powering him up but was too scared; they might’ve loaded him with some sort of tracking device or virus. They had to wait till they were somewhere safe so he could run the diagnostics and quash any added software. He squeezed Pavel, not caring if anyone was looking.
And that’s when the alarm started to sound.
Everything flashed red. The noise was awful, like a crowbar cleaving open his brain, and he held P even tighter to his chest. Scrambling back, only the flashes of red to light his way, he got turned around and didn’t know where he was. More important, he didn’t know where Lydia and Kara were.
Then he heard the roar of a motor and was suddenly blinded by two headlights bearing down on him. An all-terrain rover skidded just past him to a stop, and reversed. The door popped open to show Kara leaning over the passenger seat.
“Get in!” she called over the screaming alarm. Of course she knew how to drive one of these things.
Aly hopped in, and when the door closed behind him he heard the air lock engage. He placed Pavel by his feet as Kara shifted gears, barreling two tons of metal death through the stalls of parked cars, zigzagging their way toward the exit. “Hang on!” she called behind her as she gunned it toward the garage door, a second layer of reinforced metal grates closing over the entrance. Red lights assaulted their eyes. They burst through both levels, the grates denting their roof. Once they’d cleared the exit, the rover bounced as it trod over the debris. It was dark, the sky scorched, the ground covered with millions of electromagnetic creatures that crawled and wormed over one another, crushed under their tread.
Lydia was slumped in the backseat, letting out shallow breaths. She’d lost her color; her skin looked gray. But they’d escaped. They’d done it.
“Thank you,” Aly said, twisting in his seat to grab Lydia’s hand. She did her best to squeeze his fingers, but it was as if all her strength had left her.