The Drafter

“So you let her kill him,” Silas accused. “When there was no one else to be her anchor.”

 

 

Allen’s expression sharpened. “I did it in the hopes that with closure we could play this out to the end.” He pulled himself up stiffly, weight on his good leg. “The government knows Opti is rife with corruption, but they need Opti like bread needs flour. They tasked Bill to find it, which of course he did, using the opportunity to modify the list so as to keep his game going. Peri found out she was on the original and responded in her usual style.”

 

Silas nodded, the drying blood on his face pulling. And in the aftermath, she’d drafted and forgot everything. “Where does that leave us?”

 

Allen pushed his glasses up. “Bill has the list, but Jack kept the original chip with everyone’s names on it for insurance. Bill has already ripped their apartment apart looking for it. It’s not in her Mantis or the hotel they stopped in, and neither Peri nor Jack would have destroyed it. Has Peri said anything about it?”

 

Silas snorted, his cuffs catching as he leaned back. “No. But she wouldn’t know, since you wiped her clear back to her first Opti anchor.

 

“I think you’ve gone native,” Silas accused. “I think you like where you are, what you do, playing both sides. I think you like that Peri knows you and not me.”

 

Allen hunched, angry. “And that’s why you’re buying her dinner, outfitting her for travel, refusing to cut her loose when Fran told you to send her back in? Peri doesn’t know anything, and I’m this close,” he said, his finger and thumb a mere inch apart. “If I can get Peri back and working, I can find who’s funding Bill. I’ve got a shot at finding how far it goes. I know the idea was she’d be the one to break it, but I can finish it and we can all go home.”

 

Silas squinted at him, cheekbone throbbing. He never could decide when Allen was lying. He’d always relied on Peri to tell him. His eyes flicked to Allen’s broken fingers and damaged knee. No reason to change that now.

 

“That woman does not like to be lied to,” Silas said, gaze rising to find Allen’s waiting.

 

“Tell me about it,” the tired man said around a sigh. “You think I did this to be with Peri? Every time I touch her I’m scared to death I’ll trigger a wisp I didn’t fragment. She knows I’m lying to her, just not about what.”

 

Allen is worried about leftover fragments, and the only things she remembers about me are a few inside jokes about asthma and shoes. Silas’s suspicions tightened.

 

Fingers fumbling, Allen searched a pocket of his suit coat, holding up a theme book before setting it on the desk. “I haven’t gone native, but I’m starting to wonder about Peri.”

 

“You read her diary?” Silas’s lip curled.

 

“It was either me or Bill,” he said. “I told him it would help me convince her I’m her anchor, but I went through it to find evidence of Opti’s corruption. Something we could use.”

 

“And?”

 

Allen shook his head. “Nothing. If she kept track of her findings, it was somewhere else.”

 

This was going nowhere. He had to get out of here. She wouldn’t wait forever.

 

“She’s changed, Silas,” Allen said, bringing him back to the cruddy little construction trailer. “Her diary? She enjoys what she does a little too much. We don’t know what’s going on in her head apart from what she tells us and what we can piece together. What’s to say she’s not working for Bill to find the head of the alliance and assassinate the top people?”

 

“Are you insane?” But she’d killed people before, even if she didn’t remember it.

 

“Just be careful,” Allen said. “I’m telling you, she’s not the same woman.”

 

Remembering Peri’s off-the-cuff comment about the fish, Silas huffed, “Tell me about it. When did the woman learn how to cook?”

 

Clearly relieved at the change of subject, Allen smiled. “Haven’t you heard? Bill made it an Opti-sanctioned stress relief. She’s gotten good, from what I hear.”

 

“And you’re eager to eat it up, eh?” he said. “Move right in where Jack stepped out. She made you sleep on the couch, didn’t she? That’s all you’re going to get.”

 

Allen’s face darkened. “I’m not the one who tried to convince her to wash out. I supported her and her idea to bring down Opti. I still do.”

 

Silas leaned in, his arms hurting. “You’re after the glory, Allen. That’s all you ever wanted, and you played on that need in her like it was an addiction needing to be fed because you couldn’t do it alone. You used her. Convinced her it was possible.”

 

“It was possible,” Allen protested, and Silas’s eyes narrowed at the guilt. “It still is.”

 

“You used her,” Silas pushed. “And now her mind is so full of holes that the traumatic draft you forced on her is going to ooze right through and drive her mad. This is your fault.”

 

“This is not my fault.” Allen stood, white-faced. “She wanted to do it. She knew the risks.”