I step closer, looking the chamber up and down. This bubbling glass box is where I’m going to die. In this room, surrounded by cameras and people I don’t know. It’s suddenly real, it’s right in front of me, and there’s no avoiding it any more.
‘Are you OK?’ Cole asks.
I look up, realizing that I’ve frozen mid-step. I try to move, but my feet are glued to the floor, my voice trapped in my throat.
‘Cat, what’s wrong?’ Cole asks, concerned. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘I-I’m fine,’ I say, swallowing the panic, trying to push the fear from my mind. Be brave, I tell myself, but the words ring hollow. I search for the warmth I felt just minutes ago, but I can’t find it.
Cole’s eyes aren’t shining any more; they’re cold and worried. He’s frightened, and his fear is forming a feedback loop with my own. I’m scared, and he can see it, and there’s nothing I can hold on to. I’ve been keeping the decryption in the back of my mind, but now it’s here, and it’s real. The last minutes of my life are ticking down, and I’m still not ready.
I’m not ready to die.
I close my eyes, forcing the panic down. I’m stronger than this. I’m brave, and I don’t need Cole’s light to see it. I’ve fought, survived for two long years in this nightmare of a world. I’ve been strong, and now that same strength of will is going to help me die.
‘It’s just the disinfectant,’ I say, clearing my throat. ‘I always hated the smell.’
Cole nods, searching my face. He knows something is wrong, but there is no waver in my voice, no sign of the storm raging inside me.
Novak looks between us. ‘OK, let’s get started. Lieutenant Franklin, since we’ll be cloning the vaccine’s core from your panel, there’s a chance that your tech might glitch.’
Cole nods, his eyes still on me. ‘I’m willing to take that risk.’
Novak smiles, revealing a row of bright, sharp teeth. ‘It’s not the risk to you that I’m worried about. I’ve seen your panel’s code, and it’s my understanding that a minor glitch could be quite … problematic.’ She gives him a meaningful look and gestures to a chair a few yards away, with white leather restraints riveted to the arms.
Cole glances at it, then back to me. He looks reluctant, but he nods. ‘That’s probably a good idea. OK, Cat, let’s do this.’
‘I’m glad I met you,’ I blurt out. ‘Whatever happens, I want you to know that.’
His brow creases. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘I know, I just …’ I trail off. I don’t know how to say goodbye. After all we’ve been through, he deserves much more than this. The drones must sense the emotion in my voice, because they rush to capture the moment, swarming around us, buzzing between our faces like moths around flames.
Cole steps closer to cut them off. ‘I’ll be right here, Cat.’
‘I know you will.’
He takes my hand and squeezes it, then pulls away, and in a moment of desperation, I clutch his shirt and press my lips to his.
It is a simple kiss. There are no tears, no roaring flames. We are two people coming together, joined for the briefest moment. Even so, it’s enough to slow my heart and bring the warmth of his smile back into me.
He pulls away, grinning. ‘OK, enough of that,’ he murmurs. ‘Get in your glowing tub and save the world.’
I let his hand drop, my cheeks aflame. ‘Wish me luck.’
He winks. ‘You don’t need it.’
‘I’ll see you on the other side.’
CHAPTER 35
A nurse guides me over to the immersion chamber and helps me out of the bathrobe. I cross my arms over my chest, self-conscious in the silver pressure suit. I try not to notice the stares from people around the room, but there’s no getting away from the buzzing cloud of drones. My face is still made up, still perfectly smooth and even-toned, but there’s no hiding the pale scars on my leg or the scabbed bruise on my knee. People don’t have skin like this any more, not with gentech. They don’t have hair on their legs or skin discoloration, not unless they want it.
Now that I know my hypergenesis was a lie – a cover to hide whatever treatment my father designed – I can’t understand why he didn’t give me an aesthetic suite. He knew how miserable I was with bad skin and rough hair, having to brush my teeth and stockpile old-fashioned deodorant when everyone else had apps. I can almost understand him hiding the hypergenesis treatment from me, but to give me such a rudimentary panel just seems cruel.
I don’t know what would be more shocking to the people around the world watching the feed of tonight’s events: the heavily hacked enhancements of some of Novak’s scientists, or my complete lack of them.
The nurse gestures to a metal staircase leading into the vat. I kick off my slippers and climb up it quickly, eager to get into the cover of the blue liquid. It’s thick and warm like honey, but it’s not really wet, and forms a strange, convex meniscus around me wherever I touch it. It’s deep enough for me to stand comfortably with the liquid around my shoulders, but dense enough for me to lift my feet and float without sinking to the bottom.
Dax strides across the room, pushing a rattling steel trolley topped with an array of surgical instruments. He’s in a white lab coat, his hair perfectly styled, his skin made up to be even paler than usual. He looks nervous, and he should be. He’s probably wondering if I’m going to shout at him again and make him carry that for the rest of his life.
Honestly, it’s tempting.
Most of the drones have followed Novak and Cole over to the chair with the restraints, but a handful are whining around us, circling the tank. I could make a scene right now, in front of the cameras, and there’s nothing Dax could do to stop me. A few pointed words about how he was the one who set off the kick simulation at Homestake should be enough to shatter his golden reputation.
But I won’t do that.
Deep down, I don’t hate Dax, and I don’t want to hurt him. He’s unfeeling and ambitious, but I think part of me always knew that. Maybe that’s even what drew me to him in the first place. I liked him for his mind and his potential, because those are the parts of myself that he brought out too. I know he felt the same way. I always thought we’d get married, he said when he learned what the decryption would do to me. We’d code together. Most people would have mentioned children, or love, or growing old, but Dax knew that any future between us would centre around our work.
Our bond was intellectual, and that was what made it strong.
But when you love someone for their mind, you can’t expect that their heart will belong to you too.
He stops beside the tank. ‘I’ve checked everything about a hundred times, and the procedure is ready to run. I’m sorry about before.’
I slump into the glowing liquid, blowing out a sigh. ‘You’re an ass,’ I mutter. ‘And it’s your loss. I hope you know that.’
He rests his pale, slender fingers on the edge of the vat and flicks a sharp glance back at Cole. ‘I do, Catarina. More than you know.’