The Rift Frequency Page 9
“I doubt it. They’re weird with us. I mean humans. I don’t think they would intrude on our privacy that way, especially now that we know that the QOINS device is active. They know we won’t hurt ourselves, which would be the only reason, I think, to monitor us, and even if they are, we gave them our blood. They already know the big secret. Nothing we do in this apartment is going to be any more revelatory than what they saw in that examination room.”
We are standing in the middle of the efficient space of the SenMach living quarters. Levi sighs and unclips his gun and utility belt. “You really would have done it, wouldn’t you? Shot yourself?”
I fold my arms together. I want to be able to squeeze my biceps with my fingers. I’m cold even though the temperature is just fine in here. “Yeah, I would have. I thought you would have, too. You went for your gun.”
“Because I was going to shoot them. I can’t believe you did that.” Levi looks at me. His eyes are wild and wide.
“And what was shooting them going to do? What would it matter if you took a hostage? Were you going to make one of them show you how to put the QOINS device back online? They would never have done that. In this city, the SenMach city, we are outsmarted, outstrategized, and definitely outnumbered. Fighting would have only proven their point, that we are unevolved children who need looking after. Fighting is not always going to work on these different Earths. You can’t assume we’re going to be the alphas all the time.” Levi says nothing. He simply sets his jaw. A weak ray of sun shoots through the window and bounces off an auburn curl, making it look as if he deliberately dyed that one single lock emo red. “You ever play The Hunger Games game, with your unit or your friends?” I ask him.
“I think you already know the answer to that one. Come on,” Levi shoots back grimly.
“We used to play it a lot when we were first activated. What would we do as tributes in Panem? Violet always said she would just wait and run and hide until there were only two left. That way she would only have to kill one kid. We would always try to change up the scenario so that she had to be on the offensive, but she found a way not to fight. Whereas Boone, well, he would have turned it into a real show, such an awful, terrible bloodbath that people wouldn’t want to look at it. He would describe terrible, horrendous things, certain that if they were bad enough and gross enough, the citizens there would turn off their TVs, or barf. And Henry, he said he would do the opposite: Kill everyone so quickly and so easily that there would be no show. It would be over before it began.”
“And what would you say?” Levi smirks.
“For a while I was with Henry, but then I thought about it. Why fight at all? If we go in as a Citadel, and we have all that time to supposedly train, then time could be the thing. If I planned it well enough, I could break out of the tribute compound, make my way to the president’s house, and kill Snow. The games wouldn’t even have to happen. But then I realized all the other people I would have to kill to stop the Hunger Games. Dozens. Hundreds. Every time I thought I had the right equation, one of the other Betas would bring something or someone else up. I realized that I couldn’t kill everyone. And Katniss, for all her truly inefficient and horrible gamesmanship, had it right all along. The only way the Hunger Games would have stopped, without the whole war and everything that was in the books, was if each tribute killed themselves on camera, year after year until no one wanted to see it anymore. Sometimes the only way to win, is to lose everything.”
Now it’s Levi’s turn to fold his arms. “So, what you’re saying is that your entire plan here is based on a children’s book?”
I finally release my arms and smooth them over my head as I laugh out loud. “Really, Levi? We are super soldiers traveling through the Multiverse in a city populated by robots. I think fiction is the best place to look for a plan.”
“Stop it!” Levi says sternly. “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny. You scared me.”
I stop chuckling and let the smile fade from my face.
“Good. I’m glad you’re scared. I’m terrified. We don’t rely enough on that fear. It’s been bullied out of us and we need it, now more than ever. Our abilities have made us arrogant. We have to adapt. Fighting is not always going to be the answer and neither is threatening to kill ourselves. Somewhere in the middle, though, there’s talking and reasoning. ARC never let us do that and it’s put us at a disadvantage out here. We need to learn diplomacy. Quickly.”
Levi walks over to the couch and plops himself down. I know he agrees. He knows I know he agrees—there’s no point belaboring it. I sit beside him. We say nothing. The city is mute. There are no engines, no ticking clocks. There are no ambulances or playing children. The shadows grow longer and still we sit, saying nothing. The weight of what I had almost done hangs heavy and cloying, changing even, it seems, the very molecules in the air. The enormity of what we have taken on is finally sinking in. We are two people in the middle of something infinite. We are away from Battle Ground, at a distance no instrument could ever accurately measure. Our problems mean nothing and at the same time they mean so much more than they did when we left. Edo and the Roones, they are up to something. I keep circling the truth of it, because of course I don’t know what the real truth is, but there is one part I can’t believe I didn’t see before. ARC would be nothing without the Roones. The power of ARC is derived in its entirety from them, so how could the Roones ever truly be as powerless as they claim?
“Should I take a few red pills?” Levi asks, cutting through the silence. “I mean, there’s no point in just sitting here.” I look out the window. It’s dark. I hadn’t even really noticed, nor had I seen the lamps, which must have turned on slowly, brightening as the light outside dimmed. Levi is right, of course. We shouldn’t just sit here. I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect of putting my life on the line again, but the idea of spending the next few hours completely in my own head feels almost as dangerous. I am not safe. My thoughts are just as perilous as my surroundings.
“Yeah okay, sure.” I hear Levi get up and riffle through his pack. I also get up and decide I should probably have a decent look around. There isn’t a kitchen. No surprise there. But why the dining table? What is it with the SenMachs? They want to look human but not really act human. Why not take it all the way? Why not just program themselves to become a better version of human beings? Clearly, they care about us. It was real distress I saw on Cosmos’s face—well maybe not her entire face, but her eyes. They can feel, but they choose not to. Then again, I’ve chosen not to feel at times, too. I’ve shut everything down so that I am more thing than person, but only to make me a more efficient Citadel. It’s not like the SenMachs have to kill anyone. Or maybe that’s what they’re afraid of.
I walk through a doorway and see a large bed and a closet filled with clothes on either side. I touch the white duvet. I roll the cotton between my thumb and index finger. It is, without a doubt, one of the softest things I have ever felt besides maybe a puppy or one of my father’s ancient flannel shirts.
I notice a curtain hanging to my right. I push the lush material over and see a bathroom of sorts. There is a stone shower, and sink, but the toilet looks oddly big and bulky. I realize that it’s a compost toilet, because obviously there is no sewage hookup here—the SenMachs don’t eat, so they don’t produce any waste. Must be nice. Taking time away from Levi to go to the bathroom is one of those weirdly practical things you don’t really think of when you’re planning a trip through the Multiverse.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. My eye has completely healed. I look fine, but I don’t feel fine.
Ezra.
Ezra would have appreciated the SenMachs on a level Levi and I can’t because he’s a scientist. He wouldn’t have just asked for some Band-Aids. He would have wanted to get his hands on everything he could and then he would have asked how it all worked and marveled at the answers. I’m 100 percent certain that I know more things than him (supergenes), but I also know that he is more
intelligent than me. That knowledge and the ability to use that knowledge—to think critically—are two different things. I am only just now understanding the power of curiosity. In my defense—well, in my defense I was defending my life. Curiosity is a luxury.
When I imagine him here, I miss him so badly that my whole body physically hurts with the wanting of him. And yet . . .
And yet . . . I’m about to climb into a big soft bed with another guy. No one deserves to live with the Blood Lust, and it’s certainly a liability in the field, but am I fooling myself? Those years I spent hurting people, I really didn’t think I had a choice. Is that what I am doing now? I can’t believe I was just scoffing at the SenMachs for making the collective decision not to feel when I know that when it comes to deprogramming Levi, I have distanced myself from my own conscience. In my heart, I know it is the best choice, just as I know at the same time that it is not the right choice. When I agreed to the deprogramming I was thinking strategy and liberation. I was focused on what it would mean for Levi and how much more efficiently we’d be able to get to Ezra without having to worry about it. But now, as I pull my zipper up to my throat, I am realizing the dangers extend far beyond the physical. I’m not sure how Ezra will take all of this. He’ll get past it, of course, but there is an “it” now. The “it” makes me feel guilty. It makes my face flush. It makes me want to stay in this bizarro bathroom and it also makes me want to go out there and lie down beside Levi.
I whip my head to one side, as if I could get these thoughts to fly out of one of my ears. I splash some cold water on my face. There’s no point in thinking about how Ezra is going to react to this. I can’t do anything about that. I might not even be able to find him. Ever. I can do something about Levi. I brace myself and walk out from behind the curtain.
Levi is sitting on the bed. Classical music plays softly from his tablet. A cello purrs and piano notes dance lightly around the room. He’s taken his uniform off and he must have grabbed some of the clothes that were hanging for us in the closet. His pants look like they might be linen or cotton or a mixture of both, but that’s all he’s wearing. I watch his abs tense when he sees me. His skin isn’t smooth or flawless. He’s got a smattering of freckles across his shoulders that run down his arms. There are scars, too. There is just the faintest milky white of a slice where I threw the knife on the island and there are others, ghostlike, that litter his arms and torso. His parents probably wouldn’t even notice them unless they really looked, and no Citadel ever lets anyone look the way Levi is letting me look at him.
“I took one of my mom’s scarves,” he says as he holds up a bunched-up piece of silk in his left palm. “Which is totally fucked up, by the way. No dude should ever lie down next to a girl and focus on his mom, regardless of the circumstances.”
“Well,” I say as I sit down gently beside him, “I won’t tell anyone.”
“I know. And I know that there’s no point in wishing that we didn’t have to do this, but I can’t help it. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” There’s the “it” again. I bite my lip to keep from speaking. Better to let the words stay behind my teeth, and the sentences, half-formed and potentially charged as they are, should remain cloistered in my head.
Instead, I take one end of the scarf and wrap it around my hand. “This smells like your mom?” I ask.
“Yes,” Levi says, with both annoyance and a touch of embarrassment.
“Put your nose in it, and close your eyes.” Levi grits his teeth but eventually takes the end of the scarf that he’s still holding and does as I’ve told him.
I lie down on my back and he follows my lead slowly so that we are both enveloped in the white and perfect snugness that is the bed. We are close to touching, but not quite. Still, I can almost hear his body humming. Or maybe that’s just me.
Okay, I need to focus here and talk him through it. I clear my throat. “Just remember that you are trying to capture a feeling. This smell represents safety and love. It’s nurturing. Don’t think about where you are or all the things we have to do tomorrow. Just be here in the present. Right now you are safe.” Levi keeps the scarf up against his face and I take my end and lay it down on my arm and up my neck. “Roll over and put your face against my shoulder.” I ask him in a gentle whisper. Levi does as I ask. I feel the pressure of his forehead rest on the material of my uniform. He draws his legs up, fetal-like, and soon he is curled all the way around me. It’s weird. Ezra, of course, has been this close to me, but it feels so different with Levi. He’s bigger obviously and heavier, but it’s more than that—Levi’s smell, the rate his chest rises and falls. Even if I keep my eyes closed, I know, this is not my boyfriend here.
This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra.
After a few minutes I give a gentle tug on the scarf. I don’t pull it away completely, but I take it away from him and keep it balled up in my hand. From my own experience, these trigger props are an important part of the process, but he has to be able to get close to me without them. I prepare for Levi’s body to clench, but it doesn’t. He remains calm and I am grateful. The Blood Lust hasn’t been triggered. No one likes to be hit or strangled (okay, yeah, there are some Fifty Shades of Grey–ers out there), and tonight, I really need a break, so I’m thankful.
Then, in one slow and deliberate movement, Levi cranes his neck up. He nudges my face away so that I am now looking off to the side. I wonder what he’s doing, but I don’t dare talk, because it could set him off. His nose and mouth sink into my hairline. My breath catches at the intimacy of his lips against my neck. Levi inhales deeply.
“You smell safe, too,” he whispers. He moves his head away a fraction, still keeping close, and I turn to look at him. We are staring at each other now. I’m as covered up as a person can be. I am literally wearing armor. But underneath Levi’s intense gaze I feel absolutely naked. Damn this uniform is hot. I’m not even doing anything. I’m just looking at him!
This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra.
I.
Love.
My.
Boyfriend.
So why is my hand trembling?
Why do I want to reach out and trace that tiny shadow of a scar left on his shoulder? I lick my lips so I have something constructive to do with my mouth.
“Try to get some sleep,” I tell him, because it’s the only thing I can trust my voice with. Levi doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t come back with a mean-spirited quip or sarcastic rebuff. He just continues to stare until I’m the one who has to look away.
I wonder if Levi thinks about his ex-girlfriend, the one he almost killed (and to be fair, almost killed him) a year ago when they were trying to have sex. I doubt it. Citadels aren’t big on regrets. We can’t afford to live in the past because too many of our days are filled with blood and pain. We wouldn’t survive it if we stayed inside of those days, those moments. Still, I wonder if he still loves her. I turn my head back and see that his lids have closed. I look at his sleeping form, the outline of his muscles illuminated by the faintest crack of light from the bathroom. I close my own eyes, but all I can picture is Levi’s intense gaze and I realize, in my bones—he does not love that girl anymore.
Chapter 10
I see Ezra on the beach again, his face peeling and burning. I hear his violent screams. The nightmare jolts me out of sleep. My heart is racing and it feels like someone has been sitting on my throat. I look to the pillow beside me, but the bed is empty, and I am grateful for that one small mercy. I am already giving so much to Levi. He doesn’t need to know I’m having nightmares. With each passing day the way I miss Ezra is evolving. It used to be a dull ache. Now, the ache’s edges are sharpening. His absence is cutting me up from the inside. Maybe that’s all there is to the pleasure I feel when Levi touches me. When Levi is tender with me, I hurt less. So maybe that’s it. He is comforting me.
Maybe.
I go to the bathroom and shower. When I come out, I consider slippin
g back into my uniform but decide against it. I want to show the SenMachs something else. They know that our genes have been altered. They know we are soldiers. Today I want them to know that we are also capable, and despite my rather desperate turn yesterday, we are also rational and thoughtful. I go to the closet and pick out a gray-blue linen dress with dark capri leggings. They have also provided butter-soft black flats and white slip-on sneakers. I choose the flats and walk into the living room to see Levi slouching in a chair. His long black lashes scrape the hollows beneath his lids lazily. At first I think maybe all the medicine they gave us is having some kind of delayed sedative reaction. Then I notice a bunch of gelatin cubes on a plate beside him that remind me of practically every meal I’ve ever seen in a space movie. The SenMachs promised not to trick us into staying—did they break that promise? Is whatever food they fashioned for us laced with weed? Or benzos? But then, as I look more closely, I realize that this is Levi relaxed. This is Levi when he’s not ready to kill someone. I take this image and file it away. I might never see him like this again.
“They left these for us, in a canister on the table. I didn’t really notice them before. I tried one. They taste like nothing, but one or two actually fills you up.”
“You just ate their food? We have our own food, you know,” I tell him, not bothering to hide the surprise in my voice.
“It came with a note, ” he says, holding up a piece of paper. “More of a list of ingredients, actually. And look, we’ve already let them shoot us up with God knows what yesterday, so I thought, hey, one tiny cube that replaces a meal, that could come in handy if we’re stranded somewhere, right? I mean, we did stay to accumulate technology that can help us.”