The closest crosswalk was blocks away, so he decided to cross right where he was.
This is a very bad idea, Sadie said. Her hands tightened, looking for something to hold on to, and a distant a computer voice said, “Alert system ready. Press for immediate removal.”
“No!” Sadie yelled, her heart rate skyrocketing. That had been a mistake; she’d completely forgotten about the panic button. She didn’t want to leave. Not now, not at all. She wanted to stay, to hear everything.
Using her fingertips she thrust the panic button as far out of reach as she could, so there would be no chance of accidentally touching it, and took three deep breaths to slow her pulse.
“My mother gave up everything to have James,” Ford said, experimentally stepping into the road and then jumping back as a motorcycle sped by. “And I don’t think she regretted it. I was an afterthought, and Lulu came after my dad got out of jail, when they were ‘trying’ again. There’s no way I can ever take James’s place for her, I know, but I’m worried now that he’s gone she regrets”—Ford crossed one lane, waited for a minivan to pass, then ran across the other three to the center divider—“having us.”
He stood there watching for a break in the traffic. It was heavier in this direction, and harder to see because it came from around a bend. “It’s probably why she feels like me trying to find out what happened to him is disrespectful. Because nothing matters except that he’s gone. And maybe it’s why I’m so desperate to figure it out. Because I feel like I’m responsible. Like I should have been able to prevent it. Should have given him a lifeline.” He took a deep breath. “Who knows, maybe I feel like if I can give my mom the truth, she’ll love me too.”
He moved the phone from his ear to sprint across the next four lanes, sending up a chorus of horns.
“Are you there?” he panted when he was safely across. “Of course you are. Or aren’t. I wonder if you’ll even listen to this. You’re the only good thing in my life, and I’ve been driving you away. When I look back, over my past, I feel like I’ve lost a lot of people I should have been able to count on. My dad. Bucky. Linc. Sometimes I feel so completely alone. I think—maybe—I’m pushing you away so I can’t lose you too. Like I’ll hurt me before you can hurt me. Does that make sense?”
He waited at another light, and Sadie saw they were almost at the end of his block. “But you’ve always fought for me—you’re the only one who thinks I’m worth fighting for. Will you accept my apology? If you will, I’ll be at your house to pick you up for dinner tomorrow night at seven P.M. In the blue-checked button-down.” He turned the corner onto his street. “And if you—oh god, no. No!”
There was a fire engine, two Serenity Services cars, and a RCHE van parked in front of Ford’s building. He looked up and saw Lulu being held between two green-shirted RCHE men.
Lulu saw him too. In a single, fleeting motion she slipped away from her guards and took off running toward him.
A car horn blared, brakes squealed, and Ford yelled, “Sto—”
Silence.
Something was wrong.
Sadie couldn’t see or hear anything. Her head spun and nausea swept through her. She felt like she’d been pushed out of a carnival ride, only there was no ground beneath her stumbling feet. She hung there like that for a moment, suspended.
Then all at once her body became incredibly heavy and she was plummeting, being dragged down into a freezing cold void.
Where was Ford’s heartbeat?
Fear gripped her. She recalled him running, eyes only on Lulu. Heard the horn, the brakes—
She groped desperately around her mind, looking for any sign, any trace of him.
Why can’t I hear your heartbeat?
He was gone.
Don’t you dare be dead, Ford Winter, she thought desperately. She fumbled for the panic button. Do not let go. You’re not alone. I’ll fight for you. Don’t you dare give up, where the hell is your heartbeat, come on, Ford, come—
White light flooded her eyelids and she heard the long, thin, solid beep of a monitor flatlining.
CHAPTER 11
Minder Seventeen out of stasis.”
Sadie opened her eyes and saw Catrina’s face silhouetted against the dome of the Stasis Center.
“Thank god. We have to get help to—” Sadie tried to sit up, but her head was jerked back by the sensors attached to it.
Catrina put a hand on her chest, gently pushing her down. “Relax.”
Sadie started ripping sensors off. “There was a terrible accident. Is Ford dead?”
Catrina’s lips pursed slightly. “It’s more correct to call him Subject Nine. For anonymity.”
“Yes, fine, Subject Nine.” Sadie struggled with the sensors on her arms. God, there were so many. “Did he die? What’s beeping? How did I get here?”
Catrina frowned. “Calm down. Your Subject is fine. That was us pausing Syncopy to take you out of stasis.”
Sadie realized the beep of the monitor had stopped. “What? Why?”
“Everyone gets reviewed after a week,” Catrina said. “I’m sure Curtis went over that.”
“It’s two days early,” Sadie objected, plucking off the wires she could reach. “Never mind, we need to help. I think Fo—Subject Nine was hit by a car.”
Catrina pulled the computer attached to Sadie’s Stas-Case toward her. “Your Subject’s monitors are all reading normal.”
“No,” Sadie breathed, her hand going to her mouth. “Lulu.”
Catrina tapped the keys. Across the side of the Stas-Case, Sadie was able to see a monitor with an overhead view of the area around Ford—Subject 9’s—house. “There are no ambulances dispatched to your Subject’s present location,” Catrina reported.
Sadie closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Thank you, she said silently. Thank you for being alive. There were tears pricking her eyes, but she was sure they were just from coming out of stasis.
She opened her eyes and looked at the screen again. She was surprised by how neat and organized it appeared from above compared to how chaotic the neighborhood felt on the street. “How did you know where to find him?”
“Each neuronano relay has a serial number,” Catrina explained, reaching over to pull the relays from Sadie’s back. “It transmits the Subject’s location coordinates to our systems as a safety measure so we can find them if we have to.”
“You can find anyone by serial number?” Sadie asked, fascinated.
“Anyone with a neuronano relay,” Catrina said. “There are legal limitations, of course. We’re only allowed to track individuals who are Subjects in our studies, and only for scientific purposes. We can’t just go looking up serial numbers randomly.”
Sadie was still focused on the satellite image, but she felt Catrina watching her closely. “There were security cars all around his house. I only see one now. Is there any way to know why they were there?”
“5-29. Noise complaint from a neighbor about a dog barking,” Catrina said. Then, speaking to someone over Sadie’s shoulder, she said, “Sadie was concerned that something might have happened to her Subject.”
“By all means put her mind to rest,” Curtis answered, coming around to smile at Sadie.
In a slightly too bright voice Catrina said, “Apparently the dog wouldn’t stop barking. It was because a cigarette had started a small fire in one of the bedrooms.”
It has happened, Sadie thought, forgetting about everything else. Ford’s worst fear. His mother had lit the house on fire, and Copernicus had saved them. Would Ford be angry or relieved?