Crashland (36 page)

“And look what happened to them.” He turned to face her then, and she was shocked to see that he was crying. “Dad's a monster. Mom died in a d-mat accident and turned up here ten years later with someone else inside her, and then I had to watch her die. Do you know how many times I've dreamed that she'd come back? That someone would find her pattern in a server somewhere, just as she used to be, and return her to us? Turns out that wasn't such a stupid dream after all . . . but I was stupid for thinking it would be a happy ending. She's dead and gone, and she's never coming back.”

Clair remembered getting angry at him in Valkyrie Station for insisting that the people they had lost were dead. Maybe he had been weakening himself, she thought, on more than just the d-mat front. Who wouldn't want their father or mother back? Clair certainly did.

“I don't want to argue about this,” she said, feeling utterly miserable. She couldn't help the way she was. But maybe he couldn't help the way he felt either.

“Neither do I. But we always will.”

She thought he was about to leave, but instead, confusingly, he came closer and took her face in his hands. He had stopped crying, but his cheeks were still wet.

She pulled herself to him, and they kissed, and then
she
was crying, and she really didn't know what to feel.

“Don't decide yet,” she said.

“I have decided. I'm an Abstainer and I always will be.”

“Don't go, then. Stay here with me.”

“What's the point? We both know how it's going to end.”

“I need you. I can't do this on my own.”

“Yes, you can. This is what you're good at. I'm just trailing along behind you, pretending to be someone I'm not.”

“Don't say that.”

“Why not? It's true.”

“It doesn't have to be like this.”

“How, Clair?
How?
”

She didn't know, so she kissed him again. He kissed her back, so she knew she wasn't the only one finding it impossible to let go. Just because he wanted to be an Abstainer didn't mean they couldn't be together, did it? But what if he decided to join WHOLE and actually attacked d-mat? Could she sit by and let him do that? Did she have the right to stop him?

Improvement had brought them together, but it might just as easily tear them apart. She could see how it would play out, just like he could. Jesse would become an anti-d-mat celebrity while she remained Clair Hill, the girl who broke the world. And when d-mat started working again, Abstainers would turn on her for disagreeing with Jesse, while her friends would doubt her even more for wanting to be with him. They would never agree and it would never work out, and maybe it would be better for everyone to give up now and be done with it.

Except she didn't want to.

But what alternative did she have?

“You bitch,” she bumped to Agnessa. “Why did you have to do this now?”

“Me? I didn't do anything. Be glad I spared you the others.”

“What others?” Clair bumped back.

“She wasn't the only emissary.”

An image came with that reply. Clair hesitated, then opened it.

Three bodies lay on the icy ground. Zep, Libby, and her own mother.

Clair's heart leapt into her throat. Her first thought was that it was really her mother, and she had been killed, but then the word “emissaries” kicked in. Her mother would never have come to Russia offering to trade her own daughter for any kind of deal.

It isn't real
, she told herself.
Dupes, all of them
. But it was hard to keep from reacting exactly as Jesse had. Without d-mat, none of this would have existed.

She forced herself to breathe evenly and think calmly, even as an insane thought occurred to her, one she never would have entertained before under any circumstances.

She
did
have an alternative. And it was right there in front of her.

Maybe Jesse was right.

SUCH A SIMPLE
thought, but so devastating in effect, dropping into her mind with all the force of a depth charge and leaving nothing the same in its wake. What if she gave up d-mat and joined Jesse as an Abstainer? That way they could be together as long as they wanted. And why not? He had compromised his beliefs over and over; perhaps it was time she did the same in return. And it wasn't like she'd be giving up anything she hadn't already lost. Her friends, her family, her home . . . All she had to do was accept that the old way of life wasn't coming back for
her
. She could still fight for justice for anyone hurt by Wallace and the dupes. She could still try to find Q. She could still have a life of her choosing.

It wouldn't have d-mat in it. And it would have Jesse.

After days of being chased by monsters that shouldn't exist, monsters that broke all rules of reality, it seemed almost reasonable to want to try another way.

She confronted the prospect with a calmness that would have amazed her just hours earlier. This one decision made everything simpler. No longer would she agonize over being the girl who killed d-mat. No more would she struggle with the idea of reactivation. The arguments with Jesse would stop. They would have a future.

“Let's go talk to Agnessa,” she said, taking both his hands and gripping them tightly in hers. “Together.”

“Why? You're not going to change my mind.”

“I know. Incredibly, you might have changed mine.”

He brushed his bangs aside so she could see his eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I think so. We should go before I change it again.”

“All right.” He stood up and looked around him, as though he had lost something. “All right,” he said again, looking at her. “Let's do this.”

She opened the door, and there was Devin. Somehow she wasn't surprised.

“You can't be serious,” he said.

“I am.”

She pushed past him, and he followed closely, too closely, putting himself physically between her and Jesse as she left the dormitory and stepped out into the night.

Forest and Sargent were waiting for her there.

“This can't be happening,” Devin told them. “Tell her to go back inside.”

“It is her decision,” said Forest, stepping out of her way. “She can go anywhere she wishes.”

“Can't you at least talk to her, then? She doesn't know what she's doing.”

“I know perfectly well,” said Clair, rounding on him. “Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

He raised his hands between them. “No, no, I swear. It's just . . . Look, I know why you're doing this. I saw what Agnessa sent you. You're upset. Things are crazy—I get that. But that's no reason to do something drastic.”

“You have no idea what my reasons are.”

“I think I do. You feel trapped. This looks like an escape. It's not. It's not a trap, either—I'm not saying people shouldn't become Abstainers, as long as it's for the right reasons. But you're kidding yourself if you think this will solve anything. My mother was exactly the same. She thought RADICAL was going to change the world, but all she did was change herself into an ostracized freak. Don't be like her, Clair. You're better than this.”

She glared at him, not trusting herself to speak. His words had a terrible ring of truth, more than she was willing to concede. But just because he understood her didn't mean that he was right to stand in her way. His mother had nothing to do with this—and neither did hers. She doubted any mother would want her child to be an Abstainer; they were the laughingstock of the world, regarded with suspicion by everyone, whether they were involved with WHOLE or not. But if it was right for Clair, that was the way it had to be. The only opinion that mattered was her own.

“I'm going with Jesse to talk to Agnessa,” she said, her angry hiss a response to his patronizing tone. “Are you going to try to stop me?”

“No, no. Please continue.”

He stepped aside and fell in behind her as she resumed her journey. She was pretty sure she remembered the way. Forest and Sargent accompanied them, scanning the shadows.

People peered out of doorways and windows as they passed. Had
everyone
been watching?

Sargent privately bumped her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Jesse's not forcing you to do this, is he?”

“Of course not.”

“I'm surprised at your decision.”

Clair didn't care what Sargent thought, and she didn't want to talk about it with anyone other than Jesse and Agnessa.

They rounded a corner and there was Sandler Jones. He was minus his two buddies this time, but he took Clair by surprise and she came to a sudden halt. He grinned and let her pass with a satirical bow. She felt his gaze on her, burning like a brand, but she didn't look back.

New doubts assailed her.

Was that the kind of person she'd be surrounded by from now on? Would people like him call her a zombie for the rest of her life even if she did become an Abstainer? Was she
really
doing this for herself and not for Jesse?
How long is this bloody walk anyway?

“Listen, Clair,” said Devin somewhat breathlessly. “I just got a message from a girl called Ronnie Defrain. She says she's a friend of yours and you're ignoring her.”

Clair slowed. None of that was true. Her former friends weren't her friends anymore—and Clair wasn't ignoring anyone specifically. She just didn't want to know what people were saying about her.

“What does she want?”

“Here, I'll show you.”

Ronnie's message appeared in a bump.

Tell Clair she can run off with Jesse if she really wants to. He can't be that bad if she's willing to give up everything for him. Besides, we're all Abstainers now, I guess. Just let her know that while she's been gallivanting around the globe the real ‘Clair's Bears' have been busy, and we've got something we think will help.

Help? Clair's Bears? Calling up her courage, Clair sent a chat request.

“OMG, the girl lives!” Ronnie answered instantly. She was back home from her visit to the local town hall, and the chocolate wrappers were cleaned up and recycled. “I was beginning to feel like you were in one of Tash's old soap operas, the kind where you can't vote on the endings.”

Clair felt a rush of emotion at the sound of her friend's familiar banter. It was a glimpse of her former life, from what felt like an eternity ago.

“What are you doing?” she said. “Why are you calling me now?”

“It's simple, really. Everyone following you can see what you're going through: there's
all
this work to do, you're
all
on your own, blah blah.”

“I
am
busy—”

“Yes, yes—too busy to read all your messages. We know. You should've kept reading. We
were
angry with you, and we had a right to be. The Air was full of crazy shit and you weren't telling us what was real and what wasn't. It wasn't until later, when Tash got back on safe ground, that we began to put it all together. We can see what you've been trying to do now. That's why you should've kept reading the messages. We didn't stop being your friends just because we were angry with you. That's not what friends do, right? We're here. We want to help you. And since you didn't change our privileges, that's exactly what we've gone ahead and done.”

There was a serious lump in Clair's throat. She almost didn't dare speak, in case this turned out to be some kind of cruel trick.

“How?” she managed to force out.

“Well, I'm a database geek and Tash is the queen of lat-jumping and geocaching. We're your invisible sidekicks, beavering away where the dupes can't see us. Those files you sent to the others? We pulled them out of your infield and took a look at them for ourselves. We found some crazy things, let me tell you. But how can we tell you what they are if you ignore us? We're invisible to you as well! I bumped you nine times before I nagged your weird little buddy here to get through. Some people might take that personally.”

Clair was touched and embarrassed at the same time. She had told herself it didn't matter if Ronnie and Tash were her friends anymore. The way she felt now indicated that it did matter, very much.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It's okay. Worrying about your mom, getting it on with the Lurker, stopping that Ant Wallace guy from becoming king of the world . . . It's fair to say you've had a lot going on. That's why we wanted to help. To wit, the file I'm about to send you. I've whittled the VIA employees down to something I'm sure you'll find more manageable. It took me a while, but I've been a bit more focused than Jesse—again, understandably! It's not as though I've got anything else to do. Ditto Tash, who went through the physical endpoints you gave that Agnessa lady. What else is there to do in a jungle, once you've killed all the things trying to eat you? You owe us a proper conversation when this is all over, if any of it helps.”

A file arrived in Clair's infield.

“Remember that song we danced to at the crashlander ball?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes.” She would never forget a single detail of the night she had kissed Zep, and Libby had used Improvement. “Why?”

“Password. Can't be too careful.”

Clair saved the file in her most private cache.

“Thank you,” she said again, knowing that those two syllables were grossly inadequate for what she wanted to say. It didn't matter if the file was useful at all. Her friends didn't hate her. They'd just needed time to realize that she hadn't changed
that
much. Actions, as she had said in her speech to the world, really did speak louder than words.

Ahead lay the L-shaped building that was Agnessa's resting place, and Clair 5.0's destination. Or was she Clair 6.0 now?
Schoolgirl, soldier, investigator, Stainer . . .