‘Whoa, whoa,’ he says, grabbing my wrists, pulling my hands from his shirt. ‘I had to. Novak and Cartaxus agreed that the vaccine needed a face.’
‘My father was the face,’ I say, yanking my hands away. ‘It’s his code, his legacy. You can’t take credit for something you don’t even understand.’
‘Your father was tainted.’ Dax wipes the blood from his forehead, scowling. ‘He screwed up Influenza and then turned into a recluse. The vaccine needed a fresh face, somebody more appealing than him.’
‘More appealing? Like the guy who saved the poor people at Homestake? You’re the one who almost killed them, Dax. How could you lie like that?’
‘Because I had to.’ His voice grows sharp. ‘You think I like taking credit for Lachlan’s work? I’m going to spend the rest of my life being celebrated for something I didn’t do. I lied about it because it’s what the people needed, because Cartaxus and Novak asked me to. I lied so that you didn’t have to.’
‘But you made me complicit. I had no choice but to stand there and agree with you. You made me erase my father’s legacy in front of the whole world.’
‘What does his legacy matter to you?’ Dax looks genuinely bewildered. ‘How can you care about him when his code is going to kill you in a few hours?’
The words are like a knife. I stare at him, not breathing, unable to turn the pain inside me into words. Deep down, I know I’m angry with my father and I’m swinging that on to Dax. I know I’m terrified about the procedure, and I’m lashing out at him.
But that’s not all – he’s right. I’m going to die tonight, and I cannot see a single hint of pain on Dax’s face.
‘You don’t care,’ I breathe, stepping away. ‘You never cared, did you? It was all a lie. You just flirted with me because I was his daughter. Anything to get closer to him.’
‘That’s not true –’
‘Of course it is. That’s why you never contacted me, isn’t it? Two years surviving alone, and I heard nothing from you. You could have found a way to call, to tell me the truth.’
‘Your father wouldn’t let me, Princess.’
‘Don’t call me that! Don’t you dare call me that after what you just did.’
‘What I did?’ Dax asks, his eyes flashing. ‘I’m not the one who left you behind, and I’m not the one who designed an encryption that used your life as the key. I didn’t experiment on children while my own daughter was growing up alone in boarding school. Your problem isn’t with me, Catarina, your problem is with your father. Don’t take it out on me because you hate your own goddamn DNA.’
My breath catches. I step back and stumble into the wall of cameras. The dome is suddenly coffin-like and stifling. I have to get away from him. I turn and force my way through the rubber door, leaving Dax behind me, ignoring him when he calls after me.
I’m not going back. I don’t care where I’m going, as long as it’s away from him. I run past the line of VR domes, dodging a group of workers. Tears blur my vision. I veer round a corner and stumble right into a wall.
Only it’s not a wall, though he feels a lot like one.
‘Hey, Agatta?’ Leoben asks, steadying me. ‘I was looking for Dax. Are you OK?’
The mention of Dax’s name makes me want to lash out at Leoben, too, but instead I meet his worried eyes and find myself crumbling.
‘Cole,’ I whisper, my voice breaking. ‘Please, Leoben, I need to find Cole.’
Leoben looks me up and down, then nods and takes my arm, leading me through a corridor and outside. We cross a park, and he swipes me into a hotel with a broken neon sign and dim hallways that stink of genehacked weed.
‘He’s in room forty-eight, upstairs,’ he says, pointing to a stairwell. ‘I’ll send someone over to get you when we’re ready for the decryption.’
‘Th-thank you,’ I say. He leaves without another word, and I run up the stairs. When I reach Cole’s door, I grab the handle and push it open without knocking. I don’t want Cole to see me like this – fighting back tears, breathing so hard I can barely stand – but I need him so much right now I can’t stop myself.
The door swings open into a tiny room with a boarded-over window. Cole, still dressed in his silver-dusted clothes, is sitting on the edge of a steel-framed bed. His head is lowered, his sketchbook held open in his hands, but he drops it and stands the moment he sees me. My heart is pounding from running up the stairs, but the sight of the sketchbook makes it skip a beat.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cole is beside me in two fluid strides. ‘Cat, you’re shaking. What happened? Did someone hurt you?’
I glance down at the sketchbook and back to him, my resolve wavering. He was looking at his drawings of her. Of Jun Bei. He’s still not over her, and I’m still not over Dax, judging by the way his words have shaken me.
But the more I think about it, maybe that’s OK. Cole and I are both broken, but maybe we’re broken in the same way. Fractured along the same axis, two halves of a whole, both hurt by people who left us behind and never once looked back.
Maybe it’s time we turned away from them, too.
‘I saw the broadcast. You did so well …’ Cole’s ice-blue eyes are creased with concern. It seems to hit him suddenly. ‘They didn’t tell you, did they? You didn’t know. You didn’t agree to be part of that farce.’
I shake my head, biting my lip. I don’t trust my voice enough to speak.
Cole’s hands curl into fists. ‘They’re using you, Cat. That’s what these people do. They use you, and they don’t care. But you don’t have to let them. We can leave here, right now. Just tell me what you need me to do.’
‘No …’ I start, not knowing what to say. I don’t even know why I’m here – why in my darkest moments my first instinct is to run into Cole’s arms. All I know is that there’s something inside me that feels like it’s hanging by a thread, that swings towards him every time he’s standing by my side. I know he’s the only thing that’s felt right in this plan, and that if I don’t tell him now, I won’t get another chance.
‘Cat, what do you need?’
I chew my lip, summoning the courage, then step to him, letting my hands slide up his chest.
‘I need you.’
A beat passes in silence, then understanding flickers in his eyes. He searches my face as though trying to decide whether I’m serious or not. A flash of something passes through him – a hint of doubt, of concern – then his gaze finally locks on mine.
It’s like lightning.
This is nothing like the awkward, fumbling moments Dax and I shared. This is power, raw and fierce, crackling in the air. My whole world shrinks and warps, racing down into a point that dances in the light reflected in Cole’s eyes.