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  “Is there another option?”

  Doc chuckles, but I don’t really know why. Willow smirks at him. “Okay then.”

  I cross my arms. “Tell me about the mission Jayme and all those others went on before when I found him in the medical bay. What were they after?”

  “Information,” Willow says.

  “What kind of information?”

  Willow gives me a blank stare.

  Okay, so she isn’t gonna tell me. I shake my head. “Good luck.”

  Doc nudges Willow and she fumbles with her words as I turn on my heel and head toward the door.

  “Ugene!” Willow’s sharp tone stops me in my tracks. “You’re right. We are out of time. We need to act quickly. We need to help those people the Directorate is targeting before it’s too late.”

  I turn back at the door. “Then I guess we need to head to Pax.”

  Doc nods. “I’ll see it done by the end of the day.”

  Seaduss gave the people one week. We have less than a week to stop the Directorate.

  Willow’s watch chimes again as I walk out. “Wait!” Willow calls as I step into the hall. “It’s Miller.”

  13

  The pit in my stomach expands quickly as I struggle to keep pace with Willow. People are wandering back from work, and they make way for Willow and me to rush through the increasingly crowded hallway. We rapidly descend a set of steps to another level and down a familiar tunnel, and my gut sinks further and further with each pounding step.

  The two of us burst into the water treatment center side by side. My lungs burn a little from the exertion, but Willow doesn’t stop. She turns and heads along the rows of massive water tanks, weaving easily from one aisle to the next. For a Psionic, she would make a great Somatic. I struggle to keep up.

  The familiar thunder of the waterfall drowns out the hum of the water treatment system as we draw closer. Willow stops on a dime, but my feet skid on the damp stone and I pitch forward, flinging my arms out to catch my balance.

  Miller sits on the safety railing in front of the chasm below, not bothering to hold on. One slip and he would plummet into the churning, deadly waters below. He slouches on the railing, precariously perched. The hood of his sweatshirt is drawn over his head.

  “Get Jayme,” I tell Willow, working hard at catching my breath. “I’ll get him.”

  “Don’t let him pull you in,” she says.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” I say confidently, though a flash of resentment rushes through me. Her priorities are out of order.

  Willow nods tightly and slips away.

  I inch closer, careful not to startle Miller into any sudden movements. I don’t want to make him jump. After a few, careful inhales to get control of my breathing, I close the rest of the distance.

  “Miller?” I call. “Been looking everywhere for you, man.”

  Miller doesn’t move. He remains statue-still.

  I manage to reach the railing and put my hands on the slick steel. Keep it casual. “Doesn’t seem like a safe place to sit, but whatever. What are you doing here?”

  Miller doesn’t look at me, doesn’t move or speak for a while. I wait patiently and am about to say something else, thinking maybe he forgot I’m here when he finally does speak. His voice barely reaches over the thunder of the waterfall in front of us crashing into the chasm far below. “I screwed up. Murph and I had a big fight. Big.”

  “About what?”

  His response is hardly audible over the noise. “You.”

  Me? Why would they get into a fight about me? “It can’t be that bad.”

  Miller shakes his head, and for a moment I’m afraid he will slip off the rail. My muscles tense, ready to grab him. Thankfully he doesn’t budge. “I don’t think I’ve ever said anything so ugly to someone else. I deserve everything he said to me.” The emotion drains from his voice and it becomes completely hollow. “I don’t know what I’m doing or why I even bother to try. I can’t do a ruddy thing. I’m Powerless. Completely useless. And broken.”

  “We all are.”

  “No. I’m not me.”

  I would love to argue with him, tell him that he’s wrong, but it’s hard when I have admitted over and over to myself that he isn’t himself. And right now, he certainly doesn’t sound like Miller.

  “You don’t sound broken. You sound human. Why do you think you’re useless?” I lean my forearms carefully on the railing, so I don’t shake him or slip forward unexpectedly.

  The new angle makes the desperation on his face more apparent. Miller has no intention of leaving this room. The reality and weight of his conscious decision presses down on my shoulders. He’s given up.

  Miller doesn’t look in my direction. His entire body appears on the verge of giving out. I glance over the chasm at the churning force of water below. He won’t survive the fall. Miller raises a hand and looks at it like a foreign object. And then he speaks.

  “I can’t live like this.” Miller’s voice is devoid of emotion. “I’m incomplete.”

  I can’t understand exactly what he means. I never had Powers to lose in the first place. How horrible it must be, but if I can survive without Powers, Miller can, too. And I do know what it feels like to be incomplete, even if our situations are a little different.

  “If you think losing Powers makes you useless, what does that say about me?” I ask.

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Maybe,” I admit, watching the water thunder into the chasm below. “But we both have something no one else does.”

  Miller snorts and drops his arm, making him slip forward just a little bit on the rail. His attention finally turns to me instead of the promise of death below. “What’s that?”

  “When you’re Powerless, you have to find other solutions to problems. Solutions that people who have Powers could never even think of because using Powers is the easy answer. We’re wildcards, man.”

  Miller doesn’t say anything, and his expression remains blank, but his eyes examine me, weighing my words. My offer.

  “We aren’t the same,” Miller says, and the words hurt. “You’re smart and resourceful because you’ve never had Powers. You adapted.”

  “So will you.”

  Miller shakes his head. “You don’t know what it feels like to have a piece of yourself torn out, gone. I’m tired. Empty.”

  Miller turns his attention back to the churning abyss. Reality slams into my chest. My stomach drops again as I feel the railing shift forward just a touch. Miller pushes himself forward toward the water. Throwing myself against the railing, I lunge forward. My hands grasp Miller’s arm, but we are both slick with mist. The grip slips to his wrist. Bracing my weight against the railing, praying it doesn’t give out, I try pulling Miller up.

  He doesn’t grab my wrist.

  I grunt, pulling, but Miller’s weight is too much for me. My grip slips a touch. “No!”

  “Let go.”

  “No!” I lean back, pushing my knees against the railing, struggling to pull him up, gritting my teeth. “I’m not…losing…you!”

  The thunder of falling water dulls. I watch as the water itself falls slower, more deliberately. What is going on? That’s not natural. Were I not entangled trying to keep Miller from certain death, I might be more intrigued. But all I can think is, Please don’t die.

  “Miller!” Jayme’s scream comes from the edge of the water tanks, too far away to offer immediate assistance, and his feet slip on the stone as he tries to reach us.

  “I can’t…” I call back over my shoulder at Jayme.

  He stops near one of the tanks and raises his hands toward the waterfall. Sweat beads on his face. My grip slips a touch more, snapping my full attention back to Miller.

  “Come on, Miller,” I growl, tugging him up. “Grab…hold!”

  Air pressure shifts, thickening and making it harder to breathe.

  Miller glances down at the chasm. The waterfall shifts on the far wall, moving horizont
ally toward us. My heart thuds against my ribs as I watch.

  Then slick, clammy fingers clamp around my wrist. Thank god! Miller swings his other hand up, trying to catch my arm or hand or anything to give him purchase, but it’s too slippery. With renewed hope, I lean back and pull, but my feet slip out from under me, dragging me under the railing.

  A wave of water rises, shoving Miller and me toward solid ground. We slide under the railing across the stone floor. Water fills my nose and mouth. Then all at once, everything returns to normal. As I cough and gasp for air, clothes plastered against my skin. The roar of the waterfall as the water plummets back into the chasm fills my water-logged ears. Air pressure normalizes.

  Pushing myself upright, I take stock, searching for Miller.

  Three feet away, Miller lies face down on the ground, unmoving. I crawl toward him, clawing at the stone to pull myself along. When I reach his side, I sit upright and nudge Miller, who coughs and sputters up water, brushing wet blond hair away from his face. He’s okay. I glance over at Jayme, kneeling near the tank. Blood trickles from Jayme’s nose, and I recall Dr. Lydia warning him to stop pushing himself. What exactly are Jayme’s limits? Did he go too far?

  Beside me, Miller sucks in a shuddering breath, and he presses a shaking hand against his eyes.

  “Don’t do that again,” I say, hoping it sounds humorous even though I don’t feel any humor in me.

  When Miller speaks, his voice is tight. “I’m sorry.”

  “And don’t apologize,” I say.

  Jayme rises, hauling Miller up as well. The two pull each other into a tight hug and I step back.

  I just nod, watching as Jayme pulls back an inch and grabs Miller’s face in his hands. There’s so much intensity in the way they look at each other and cling to each other, both just as soaked as me. It’s so obvious how much they love each other. I look away to give them some privacy.

  14

  Jayme and Miller are together, and I have a feeling the two of them will be just fine. Willow and Rosie show up as I leave the chamber, but I reassure them that things are under control and the two of them just need some space.

  When I reach the open door of my quarters, dripping and eager to change into dry clothes, a collection of familiar faces greets me. All my friends, except Miller, sit around the table or on my bed waiting for me. I hesitate, and Enid jumps to her feet and rushes toward me.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “Everything.” I don’t have the energy to provide details at the moment.

  “Have you heard?” she asks.

  Everyone else is staring at me expectantly.

  “What?” I ask, twisting water out of my shirt.

  “About the DMA!” Noah says.

  My face falls. Can’t I just change? “Oh. Yeah. Just now.”

  The questions come in rapid succession.

  “What does it mean?” Leo asks. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, gripping it tight.

  “D-do they really h-have a c-cure?” Boyd asks from the table.

  “I won’t take it,” Rosie says.

  “What if they find us?” Sho asks.

  “Are we fighting back?” Noah asks.

  “What’s our plan, then? What are we going to do?” Enid shifts her feet anxiously.

  “I’m working on it.” Not completely a lie. But also not completely the truth. My head is reeling from the questions. “Just…” I hold up a hand and march across the room to my notebooks.

  Noah vacates one of the chairs for me to sit. I sink into it as I flip open the notebook to a fresh page. My pen flies across the page as I write down everything I learned from the broadcast before any of it can drift away. I don’t want to screw up any of the details. Noah peers over my shoulder and I slouch to obstruct his view as I finish. Then I sit back, frowning. Noah tries to see it again and I snap the notebook closed.

  “You’re awful quiet,” Sho says from the edge of the bed beside Leo. “What’s going through that head of yours?”

  I lick my lips, unsure where to start.

  “We will need to go up to Pax soon,” I say. “I won’t force anyone to come along, but the Directorate is forcing the Protectorate to act, and if we don’t help then we may as well have escaped Paragon for nothing.”

  “How do you figure?” Leo asks, frowning.

  I glance at the open door.

  “The Directorate is beefing up the DMA’s numbers, most likely to attack the Protectorate. Once they find this place, we will be right back where we started. Which means we need to stop the Directorate before they can gather too many people to their side.”

  Everyone nods, waiting for me to say more, but I don’t really know what else to say.

  Noah punches a fist into his other hand like he’s ready to pound some heads. “Then we need to strike them now.”

  Bri—the blonde girl always clinging to Noah—sits up straighter as if she agrees.

  “With what?” I shake my head. “We don’t have any weapons to use against the DMA. The Protectorate doesn’t have the information they need to expose the truth. And even the collective Powers of the people in The Shield won’t be enough to fight back against the full force of the DMA.”

  “Well, we can’t do nothing!” Enid says, crossing her arms. “So, what’s your plan?”

  I open my mouth, fumble for a moment, then sigh. “I don’t have one this time.”

  “You’re saying we just sit and take this?” Sho says, surging to his feet. “No!”

  Again, I work my jaw for the right words.

  “Ugene!” Enid snaps, pulling my attention back to the room. “What can we do? We can’t just wait around.”

  I bite my lip. There has to be a way to be sure that no one here is a spy. “Okay…I have an idea, but it’s completely crazy, and we will probably die.”

  “Better than waiting for Paragon to claim us again,” Rosie says. “What’s the idea?”

  “We have to get the people of Elpis to revolt against the Directorate.”

  A stunned silence falls like a smothering blanket over the room. No one says a word. Noah, who was so eager to smash some skulls just a few moments ago, has taken a step back, arms hanging limp at his sides.

  “But you…you said…” Enid fumbles to find the right words.

  “That we can’t hold against DMA forces. But if the Directorate falls, their plan falls with them, and we can’t succeed unless everyone follows our lead.”

  Boyd trembles in his chair and starts rubbing his hands together to cover it up, but it doesn’t fail my notice. He shakes his head just a little, and the fear in him makes his stutter worse. “I-I-I c-can-can’t…”

  “It’s okay. I won’t force anyone else to do this. But I am leaving. Tonight. Willow and Doc agreed we need to go to Pax.”

  Enid steps forward and takes my hand. “I told you. We finish this together or not at all. I’m with you no matter what.”

  “I would rather go down fighting than hiding,” Noah says. “I’m in.”

  Sho clenches his jaw and nods in agreement as well, along with Lily.

  One by one, they all agree to join me, with the exception of Boyd. The ease with which they accept one of my hairbrained, off the cuff ideas—particularly a clear suicide mission like this—makes my stomach twist in knots. Noah was right. They follow me with blind faith… Right to their deaths.

  15

  At dinner, Doc came to our table and informed me that they secured a line with Mom, who went underground for her own safety. With Dad dead and me on the run, I suppose it was only a matter of time before the Directorate came after her. I’m just glad she’s found a safe place to hide.

  Doc escorts me to the conference room, and we stop in front of a closed door. I take a moment to really study him. The sadness makes his aging face sag like the sorrow is pulling all the skin down. And those eyes, usually so critical of me, now appear soft and caring. Like a parent. In some ways, he reminds me of everything I wish my father coul
d have been: soft, caring, imparting wisdom.

  “Is Willow your daughter?” I ask.

  Doc laughs. “No. Not by blood. But I do see her as a daughter.” He opens the door, motioning me inside. “And she bears the burden of all the people in this place. It’s a lot to carry on one’s shoulders.”

  I can understand that. What horrors are those I’ve failed facing now?

  “I have met Willow before,” I say, facing Doc. “On Career Day she was there, handing out flyers. She invited me to some rally or something to fight Proposition 8.5.”

  Doc’s shoulders sag. “Yes, well, it’s probably best you weren’t at the rally. The DMA stormed in and people died in the chaos, and the Directorate blamed it on us, called us radicals and convinced the people that we are trying to destroy everything. Willow blames herself.” He cocks his head, examining me. “You two aren’t so different, you know. Maybe that’s why you butt heads.”

  “Maybe.”

  I step into the room, and Doc closes the door behind me to give me privacy. The light in the room comes from lamps in each corner. A round table with chairs waits in the center of the room. Above the table, a holograph flashes blue light. I settle into a chair. There are so many questions I have for Mom, and I’m not sure where to begin. I tap a button to turn off the blue light, and the box on the table announces, “Establishing connection now.”

  Mom’s face lights the room in full color. It almost feels like she’s actually in front of me. I wish more than anything she really was. Having her here would help lighten the burdens weighing me down.

  “Ugene.” She breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you made it. I wanted to join you, but the Directorate is watching my every move. I can’t get to The Shield without risking its exposure. Just establishing a secure enough connection to contact you has proven difficult. How are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Just seeing her face brings tears of joy to my eyes. I would give anything for one of her hugs right now. “Where did you send me, Mom?”

  “Oh, my Tough Guy. I’m sorry. There is so much your father and I didn’t tell you. We tried to protect you from all of this, but the Proposition made it hard to keep you safe.” She hesitates. “Did you find a letter from Dad?”