By that time, everyone on the surface could be dead.
‘You said your father left a plan for us,’ Cole says, leaning forward. The light from the cabin catches on the ridges on his chest, but I still can’t make out the pattern. ‘All he left was the ghost memo. No instructions, nothing. He must have been sure that you could figure it out on your own.’
‘I know.’ I sink into the water. ‘But how am I supposed to do that?’
‘I thought you were an Agatta.’
‘Very funny.’ I roll my eyes, but Cole’s right – my father left this to me because I’m his daughter, and because I knew him better than anyone. There has to be something I’m missing. Some clue, some instructions he’s hidden so Cartaxus won’t find them, but I will. Something he knew I’d pick up on.
Cole scratches at his bandage, twisting his body into the light spilling from the cabin. The ridges on his chest fall into sharp relief, and I stand up in the shallows, covering my mouth.
‘What the hell?’
Cole’s entire chest, from his navel to his collarbone, is completely covered with scars. Lines of puckered skin stretch up and down, from one side to the other, crisscrossing his body like a human circuit board.
‘What happened to you?’ I step out of the water. ‘Why didn’t they heal your scars?’
He looks down and runs a hand over his chest as though he’s forgotten they were there. ‘They could have, but I keep them as a reminder.’
‘A reminder of what?’
‘Of what they did to me. I’m a black-out agent. Do you know what that means?’
I shake my head. I’ve heard the term whispered on the Skies networks – reports of half-machine soldiers given superhuman skills. I thought it was just another rumour, but maybe it wasn’t. Black-out agent. The words bring up a flash of Cole’s midnight eyes, of him racing out of his jeep with inhuman speed. The way he threw himself over me, immune to the pain of his wounds.
How he said he’d been programmed to protect me.
Cole extends his arm, showing me the full stripe of his panel. Three leylines trace their way up his arm from the glowing cobalt light. They look like tattoos, but they’re not. They’re micrometre-thick tubes, the width of a single layer of human cells, lying flush with his skin. Most gentech nanites are transported from your panel through the cabling inside your body to make their way to where they’re supposed to run. Your muscles, your eyes, your stomach. The nanites could just drift through your cells, but the cables act like a railway system, transporting them instantly.
Leylines are for dangerous code. Some nanites can’t be trusted to play nicely with the rest of your tech. The black lines streaking up Cole’s arms might be carrying toxic nanites, or experimental tech pushing the limits of what the human body can take.
He turns his arm until his panel faces up. The glow lights up the scars across his chest. ‘Being a black-out agent means Cartaxus has given me tech that’s above my security clearance. I don’t have access to my panel, and I can’t remember most of my training. They wiped it, leaving behind just enough for me to act on it instinctively. The only thing I was allowed to keep were these scars, so I did.’
My eyes widen. It’s hard to take in the horror of what he’s saying, especially when he talks so easily about being sliced open. I can’t imagine the pain he must have suffered, but I can read the story of misery etched into his skin. A testament to Cartaxus’s cruelty. A record of the military tech he’s not even allowed to know he’s carrying.
Cole gets to his feet. ‘Sometimes I don’t even know what’s inside me until it kicks in, like the protection protocol. Or the jeep. The moment my hands touched the wheel, I –’
‘Wait.’ I cut him off. ‘What did you just say?’
‘About the jeep?’
‘No, before that.’
‘Sometimes I don’t know what’s inside me until it kicks in?’
My heart stills. Suddenly it all makes sense. Staring at the scars on Cole’s chest, I can finally see what my father has been trying to show me. It’s so utterly, painfully simple. He sent me instructions to unlock the vaccine, but they aren’t in the ghost memo at all.
They’re standing right in front of me, hiding in plain sight, like the sonnet in the pigeons.
They’re inside Cole.
CHAPTER 8
‘I need my genkit,’ I say, splashing out of the water.
Seeing Cole’s scars and hearing the story behind them is the scientific equivalent of waving a flag in front of a bull. My father must have known I’d be itching to jack Cole into my genkit and see what’s inside him, and that has to be what he wants me to do. The one thing my father knew I could do better than anyone else is hack panels. I did it to my own panel when I was fifteen, nearly killing myself in the process.
Now I just need to do it to Cole. He’s already carrying the encrypted code for the vaccine. What if he’s also carrying the key?
‘Where are you going?’ Cole holds out the towel he brought down for me.
I spin back to him. ‘Th-the lab,’ I stutter, too excited to speak. Goosebumps prickle my skin. ‘I need to jack you in. I think I just figured it out.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘And?’
‘I think there’s a message inside you. Well, inside your panel. Or maybe in your chest, I don’t know, but I think I –’
‘Of course,’ he says, tilting his head back. ‘That’s classic Lachlan. But like I said, I don’t have access to most of my tech. My firewalls are military grade.’
‘I can g-get through,’ I say, shivering, ‘I know I can. L-let’s go down to the lab, we can –’
‘Seriously?’ Cole cuts me off, shaking his head. ‘You’re just like Lachlan, you know that? Your blood sugar is plummeting, you’re freezing, you just woke up after being in a healing coma for days, and all you want to do is code. You need to rest.’
‘We don’t have time to rest. The v-virus is evolving as we speak, and I’m fine. I’m j-just excited.’
‘That’s not excitement, Catarina. It’s called shock, and it’ll knock you out if you’re not careful. Hold out your hand.’
I lift one hand. ‘I’m f-fine, see …’
Only, I’m not. My hand is trembling like a leaf, and the harder I try to keep it still, the more wildly it seems to shake.
He gives me a level stare. ‘I know we need to hurry, but you won’t be able to do anything if you crash. Dinner first, then you can jack me in.’
I slump, dropping my shaking hand. ‘OK, fine. After dinner, then.’