“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
He sighs and rubs his forehead. “Personally, I don’t think your sister killed Vuk. Or if she did, it was an accident or self-defense. She’s been working on her own in the Ratel, I’d gamble. And she’s grown close.”
He’s changed his tune since yesterday. “What if she grew too close, and they already know she was an infiltrator?”
“No sign of that. What we figure is that the Ratel were after someone else that night in the club, and that assignment was interrupted. They don’t know your sister’s been taken. We’ve moved fast and we have kept this a small, tight operation. Only a handful of police officers and higher-ups know who your sister really is. We’re keeping her out of the city. This situation gives us a unique opportunity to get close to the Ratel. They haven’t infiltrated many people with Verve, but if we don’t stop them, it’s only a matter of time. The Ratel are a threat against San Francisco and all of Pacifica. They have to be stopped. So far, your sister has given us some information to work with, but not enough. We need more.”
He looks at me, and I begin to suspect what he’s about to ask of me. He’s read me to the bone. I do want—need—to find out what’s going on with my sister. What she hid from me and why. More than that, I need to get her out of prison, as much for me as for her. The thought of going through life separated from her, alone forever … I don’t think I can face that.
“We can’t let your sister out to go back undercover.” The corners of his mouth tighten. I think he’s holding something back.
“No. You asked her and she refused, didn’t she?”
A rueful hint of a smile. “She did. But it would have been a tough sell to my superior, even if she did agree. She was found by the owner of the club, sitting in a pool of blood. That doesn’t exactly make her seem like someone who would be easy to work with. She’s too much of a liability.”
I flinch at that mental image.
“Then there’s you.”
I swallow, my eyes glued to his face.
“You’re intelligent, but you also play by the rules, unlike your sister. You could do this. Infiltrate the Ratel. We believe your sister has already been recruited as one of their lucid dreamers, delving into Verve dreamscapes, monitoring their implant feeds.”
“But she hasn’t told you that.”
“No, but from another source we know her exact position within the Ratel.”
“What source?”
He holds up a finger. “We obviously can’t tell you that, unless you sign on.”
“Sign on, and … pretend to be my sister?”
“Yes. You’d go undercover into the deepest, darkest underbelly of San Francisco. You’ll need to become your sister in order to go into the inner circle of the Ratel. This is much bigger than the first civilian murder in years, whether the victim was a hired killer or not. This is a chance for us to learn more about the inner workings of the Ratel, what their plans are, and to stop them from using Verve to access people’s secrets. We can learn more about Verve, about who’s actually in charge of the Ratel—and then bring them down, once and for all.”
I blink at him. Surely the Ratel can’t be that much of a threat?
“If you do this, then I’ve been authorized to let you know that even if your sister did kill Vuk, all charges against her will be dropped. Any crimes you might need to commit as part of the investigation will also be pardoned, within reason. Is that a deal?”
I fight the urge to grab at the opportunity, even as traitorous hope rises within me. I feel sick. Not only at what it is they’ve suggested Tila has managed to do—for reasons I simply can’t comprehend—but also that they now expect me to do the same thing. That I can do the same thing.
I am not Tila.
“If I was going to do this—how am I supposed to know what to do, or how to infiltrate the Ratel?” I ask.
Oloyu doesn’t hesitate. “We can train you and give you the information you need. The skills that will keep you alive. And we’ll have a partner for you.”
My breath catches. Somehow, the idea of working with a stranger seems even more frightening than working alone.
“I don’t even look much like my sister anymore,” I say, my voice weak with protest.
“That can be changed.”
I raise a hand to my cheek, thinking of scalpels and flesh parlors.
Officer Oloyu interlinks his fingers together, leaning forward, his face starkly earnest. “So, Miss Taema Collins—are you going to join us and save your sister?”
My mouth opens, but I have no idea how to answer.
FIVE
TAEMA