‘Looming apocalypse, unlocking the vaccine. Remember?’
His lips curl in the faintest of smiles. He looks me up and down, his ice-blue eyes bloodshot after the command I used to knock him out. ‘I’m not the heartless soldier you think I am, and I’m not an idiot either. We’re doomed if we lose this vaccine. Of course I’m going to do everything I can to unlock it.’
‘So my father knew you’d pack up and go AWOL because you’re a hero?’
He presses his lips together. ‘There’s another reason too.’
‘Go on.’
‘How about you uncuff me, and we can talk?’
I let out a snort. ‘Not a chance, soldier. Nice try, though.’
He grimaces, shifting on the floor, the handcuffs rattling against the lab counter’s leg. ‘I was planning to leave Cartaxus anyway. Someone I cared about went missing and might be on the surface, and I want to find them. Your father knew that. He was going to help me get out so I could look for them.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Is it someone he knew too?’
Cole nods, then pauses, as though he hadn’t meant to tell me that. His tone and the tight look in his eyes tell me he doesn’t want to talk about whoever it is he wants to find. It’s obviously personal, and it might be irrelevant, but I can’t rule out the chance that it’s important somehow – another clue my father left for me.
My mind spins back over the conversations we’ve had. I don’t think Cole ever mentioned any family or friends, but there was that girl in the sketchbook. I glance up at the ceiling, trying to remember the name written in careful script beneath each drawing.
‘Is it Jun Bei?’
He stiffens. He doesn’t need to answer – it’s clear from his response that I’ve guessed correctly. He had the same fierce reaction when he found me flipping through the sketchbook, as though seeing her face or saying her name was an intrusion into his privacy. Whatever happened between him and this girl clearly isn’t over. The look in his eyes when I said her name was like an open wound.
After a long, tense moment, Cole nods. ‘Yes, it’s her. We were separated years ago, and she’s not in the Cartaxus system, so I know the chances of her being alive are low. But she could have survived out here, holed up somewhere, like you.’
I nod, lacing my fingers together, this new piece of the puzzle sliding into place. I’m starting to understand why Cole was such a perfect choice by my father. He’s capable of protecting me, that much I’m sure of, but it’s what he’s driven by that makes him special.
It’s his hope.
Even after two straight years of horror and death, Cole still believes that a girl he once knew might still be alive. In this world, that’s a wild hope. Barely more than a prayer. He was willing to leave the safety of Cartaxus to risk his life on the most impossible of chances. If I can find a way to link Cole’s hope to the plan my father left us, something tells me nothing will stand in our way.
I unfold my hands, staring at Cole. ‘If Jun Bei is on the surface, Cartaxus isn’t going to give her the vaccine. She’s vulnerable every minute we waste arguing here. The only way you can protect her is by helping me release the code freely to everyone, not let Cartaxus keep it to themselves. That’s why my father chose you for this mission.’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t think Cartaxus is going to restrict access to the vaccine.’
‘Are you willing to bet Jun Bei’s life on that?’
A muscle in his jaw twitches. ‘I don’t even know if she’s alive.’
I sit back. He’s right. I can practically see a candle of hope glowing inside him, but it’s not enough to justify going against everything he’s been trained for. There has to be something more than this. If my father was going to help Cole find this girl, he must have had some faith that she was alive, as well.
I slide my genkit closer. ‘Do you know her panel’s ID?’
‘I’ve already searched for it everywhere. If she’s connected to a server, she’ll be masking it.’
‘Oh, a mask,’ I say, flipping my genkit open. ‘How could I ever hope to get past that? What’s her ID?’
He stares at me silently, unimpressed by my sarcasm.
I sigh. ‘Look, I’m just trying to help. Maybe I can find her.’
He closes his eyes and starts reciting the hexadecimal code linked to Jun Bei’s panel. I type it into a file in my genkit, then ping the Skies network, logging in. If Jun Bei is on the surface, she’ll probably be using the Skies’ satellites. My genkit’s screen fades to black with a single, blinking cursor, and my fingers drop to the keyboard, punching out commands.
First, I have to navigate through the ancient systems the Skies uses to control their satellites. Jun Bei’s ID has never pinged the network as far as I can tell from a quick scan, but if she’s masking it, I’d need to run a recursive check across the most common encryptions. I load up a handful of scripts, grabbing scraps of code, running them until my genkit’s fan whines with the effort. Millions of users, millions of IDs, thousands of them masked. Countless pings across the network every second of every day …
‘Oh,’ I say, freezing.
Cole draws in a sharp breath. I look up to see his face paling. ‘What? What did you find?’
I spin the screen round. ‘I don’t know if she’s alive right now, but it looks like she pinged a server in Australia three days ago.’
Cole turns to stone. I spin the genkit back round, trying to get a better lock on her location. A week ago she hit a server in Zimbabwe. But that can’t be right. Even Cartaxus officials don’t fly around the world like that these days.
I race through another scan, finding results faster now that I know the masking method she’s been using. Her technique unfurls in the results, and it’s brilliant. She’s bouncing her location all around the world continually. Moscow, Beijing, Antarctica. Outposts in the Sahara. Wherever this girl is, she doesn’t want to be found.
‘Wait, not Australia,’ I say, hunting through the data. ‘I think she might be in the US, but that’s the best I can do, sorry.’
I look up. Cole’s jaw is clenched, and his eyes are squeezed shut. His shoulders are twitching …
Oh shit. He’s crying.
I look away. This feels wrong. He shouldn’t be handcuffed to the counter, not like this. He’s just found out the girl he loves is still alive. ‘I, uh … let me find the key to the handcuffs.’ I pat around on the floor, avoiding looking at him. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know where I dropped –’
He pushes himself up from the floor, rubbing his wrists. The handcuffs lie split on the concrete, the glinting steel twisted and bent. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘I’ll help you,’ he says, holding his hand out. ‘I’m in, Catarina, for whatever it takes to unlock the vaccine.’