Read Override (Glitch) Online

Authors: Heather Anastasiu

Override (Glitch) (22 page)

BOOK: Override (Glitch)
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Jilia’s voice was kind. “His pain and reaction centers just haven’t started working as naturally as yours have.”

“But he’s human,” Cole said. “He can feel. He just doesn’t know who he is without his Reg hardware.” His hands curled into fists.

Jilia noticed I was awake and came over to do a quick scan before releasing me back to my dorm. My footsteps were heavy as I headed down the hallway. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I didn’t want to think about any of it—the ex-Regs, the fire, or how I’d used my power. Of course, when I got back to my dorm room, Ginni had other ideas.

“Zoe, you were amazing today! Xona, did you see the way the fire just stopped? And all because of Zoe’s power. No one will doubt what you can do now.”

Xona didn’t say anything, she just kept slowly scraping her knife across a whetstone.
Scrape.
Scraaaaaaape.

“Xona, wasn’t it great?” Ginni pressed.

Xona looked up at me. “Magnificent.” She pulled her feet up into the box and swung the curtain shut.

I looked at Ginni questioningly, but she shrugged.

“What started the fire anyway?” I asked.

“A circuit on the thermal unit blew,” Ginni said. “A bottle of cooking oil was right beside it and sprayed everywhere at the same time the spark lit it all up.” She shook her head. “Here we are worrying about these death-defying missions and then something like this happens right in our own home.” She paused, shaking her head. “Life is weird.”

I nodded. I’d never heard a better summation.

The scraping stopped. “It’s not just weird.” Xona hopped down from her bunk. “It’s suspicious, that’s what it is.”

I blinked in confusion, both by the sudden change in her manner and by what she’d said.

“Suspicious?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“The thermal unit circuit just happened to blow while we were all at lunch, and the bottle of oil just happened to have been sitting beside it?”

Ginni gasped. “Sabotage!”

“Normally I’d guess it was a Reg. But they’re more the brute force types.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said quickly.

“You know, Saminsa did leave the room right before it all happened,” Ginni said.

Xona leaned in, nodding. “It makes sense. Saminsa was already working for the Chancellor. She says she hates the Chancellor for being willing to blow her and her friends up, but what if that was just a lie to get in with us?”

I thought of how I’d felt when I’d come here, like a stranger without a home. But it was even worse for Saminsa, going from one cold dangerous place to what she thought was another. That didn’t necessarily make her a threat. Then again, after everything she’d been through, maybe she wanted to strike back the only way she could.

The door slid open and we all jumped.

“Hi Saminsa,” I said, my voice high and too-bright.

Saminsa’s eyes narrowed as she took in the scene of the three of us pretending we hadn’t been huddled together whispering conspiratorially. Ginni’s eyes widened in fear and she turned around abruptly. Xona arched an eyebrow at Ginni and me, looking pointedly at her ankle weapon before climbing back into her box.

Saminsa set her jaw and sat down on her mat by the door without saying a word.

I stared at her a moment longer than I should have. Could Xona be right? Did Saminsa secretly hate us and want to hurt us? I didn’t want to believe it, but then I remembered the flesh melting off Eli’s face. I knew we’d all be keeping a closer eye on Saminsa. Then I shook my head. No, I wouldn’t accuse someone without any clear evidence again. Xona was probably just seeing enemies where there were none again, like she always did with the ex-Regs.

Chapter 21

THE PROFESSOR BROUGHT OUT
new art supplies in Humanities. There were little pots of shocking colored paints and brushes. I picked one up and looked at it dubiously. I ran the bristles across my hand. It tickled.

It seemed like a very impractical instrument for making pictures—how could you be precise with tons of little flopping bristles? The sharp-tipped markers I’d always used before seemed like a far better idea.

I sat in front of one of the large blank pieces of canvas the Professor had set up at stations throughout the room. He gave brief instructions and set out a bowl of vegetables, but he said we could paint whatever we wanted. City was laughing and joking with Rand, who was quickly making a mess on his canvas. Cole immediately began working quietly in the corner, glancing around the room occasionally. Adrien had skipped class. Again.

I swallowed and dabbed the tip of my brush into the red, but stopped before it touched the canvas. The paint was globbed on the bristles. I’d picked up too much. I didn’t know how to do this. I tried wiping some of the red off on the edge of the pot, but it still looked like too much on the brush. If I put it to the canvas now, it’d just be a mess. I screwed the tops back on the pots, feeling an embarrassed heat flush my neck. I was supposed to be the artist.

But then, I was supposed to be so many things.

I dropped the paint brush into the cleaning solution and moved my chair away from the canvas. I pulled out a piece of paper from a stack in the corner and a marker. There, that was better. I started sketching the room and the people in it. City and Rand kept moving around, and I wished I could tell them to stand still. I tried to get their proportions as correctly as I could. I almost wished I was connected to the Link so I could see the technical schematics laid across my vision. I could be so much more exact that way.

Professor Henry called me to stay after class. The heat in my neck returned.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the paper I’d been drawing on. I handed it over and watched him eye it critically.

“It’s very…” he paused, “accurate.”

“Is that good?” I asked in a small voice.

The Professor laughed. “Zoe, art isn’t about good or bad.” He handed the paper back to me. “It’s about letting yourself feel things, and then trying to communicate those feelings. Here, let me show you something.” He led me over to the canvas in the corner where Cole had been working. The canvas had been pointed at the wall, so it wasn’t until we walked around that I could see it.

Tears immediately pricked my eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

There wasn’t any clear image or figures in the picture. Instead, it was a wash of color, vibrant red spreading into shocking blue, with dabs of white and yellow throughout.

It looked like delight. Or maybe that’s just what looking at it made me feel.

“But he’s an ex-Reg,” I turned to the Professor.

“It’s harder for them than it was for the rest of you glitchers,” the Professor said, “but Cole’s living proof that no matter how much metal you put in a person, you can’t take away their humanity. Cole just has to fight harder for it.”

I immediately thought of how I always felt a rush of relief right before I clicked into the Link each night. It felt like a free pass. For a while I didn’t have to try to sort out the emotions, I could just let them dull to gray. But here Cole was, fighting to keep them.

“But why?” I whispered. “Why does he try so hard?”

“Oh, Zoe,” the Professor said with a smile, “look at the canvas. Can’t you see why?”

*   *   *

I couldn’t stop thinking about the canvas as I walked out of the class and down the empty hallway. I wanted to be like Cole and paint in color. I wanted to feel things, I was just tired of feeling bad things. I’d had enough of bad things. But I’d also felt the emotions Cole had captured in the painting before—beauty, color, delight. I’d felt them with Adrien.

My wrist com buzzed with a message:

I’m waiting for you at your dorm.

It was as if Adrien had read my thoughts. I felt a flush of warmth and smiled. I hurried down the hallway to my dorm. He was waiting outside the door for me, his face dark and intense.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as I got close. He pulled me into a tight embrace. His words were a whisper against my neck. “I’ve been an idiot. I let this project I was working on distract me from what’s really important. So tonight,” he pulled back and brought my hands to his lips. He kissed my fingertips. “We are going on a date.”

“What’s that?” I asked, my heart fluttering erratically at his touch.

“It’s what they used to call them in the Old World,” he grinned. “Just two people going out to dinner. And not at the Caf.”

I scrunched up my face, confused. “Why not? We’ve repaired most of the fire damage. Everyone’s been eating there all week.”

“Because,” he laughed, then leaned in to kiss my nose. “The whole point is that it’s just the two of us together. Alone.” His voice dropped on the last word in a way that sent a quick shiver up my spine.

He’d been so distant the past few weeks, but here he was, grinning genuinely like there wasn’t a thing to worry about.

I shook away the confusion and smiled back at him. A night of forgetting about everything and simply being together sounded perfect.

“A date,” I said. “Will I eat my gruel out of a fancy cup?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” he smiled. “I already know you’re going to love it.”

I started. “Wait, you’ve had a vision of our date? No fair!”

He winked at me. “Let’s just say I have a good feeling about it. I’ll come back by your dorm room at seven so I can escort you to dinner.”

*   *   *

“This is so romantic,” Ginni squealed, and for once, Xona didn’t even bother to roll her eyes.

Ginni had pulled me in front of the mirror for the last half hour and was curling and pinning my hair up in intricate ways.

“I wish I had a boy who would ask me on dates. We’d talk about the books I love and he wouldn’t mind that I talk so much. In fact, that’s what he’d like about me most. We’d talk for hours and…” She paused. I looked at her in the mirror and her face held a puzzled frown.

“What?”

“Oh,” she giggled, shaking her head. “I just had the weirdest sense that I had met someone. But that’s impossible.”

“All those romantic books are giving you hallucinations. I knew reading that much couldn’t be healthy,” Xona said.

Ginni swatted at Xona with a spare piece of cloth from the sewing table. A knock sounded at the door.

I jumped up to open it. Adrien was wearing clothes I’d never seen before. His shirt was dark and fitted, and it slimmed into pants that hung a little off his hips. He’d even done something to tame his curls. My stomach did a little flip-flop.

He stared at me, his mouth dropping open a little. “You’re so beautiful.”

I was suddenly very glad I’d let Ginni talk me into wearing the skirt she’d made.

“I brought something for you.” He held up a small rectangular box. I opened it and gasped. A small silver chain was nestled inside with a blue stone embedded in a circular pendant. I touched the delicate stone with the tip of my finger. The tiny facets sparkled in the light whenever I moved the box. I’d never seen anything like it.

“It’s a necklace,” Adrien said, his voice a little higher-pitched than normal. “Henk helped me get it. Here, allow me.” He pulled the necklace from the box, then moved behind me and draped the chain over my neck, the little pendant hanging like a teardrop. His fingers trembled as he lifted my hair and closed the clasp. He leaned in from behind, his voice a whisper. “Don’t take it off, even when you sleep. I want a little part of me to be with you all the time.”

“It’s so pretty!” Ginni squealed.

I put my hand to my neck and traced the chain down to the pendent. I’d never owned something so special in all my life. I turned to look at Adrien. He’d pulled back slightly, but he held out an arm.

“Shall we?” he said.

I glanced back and saw Ginni’s swooning face. I laughed and grabbed Adrien’s proffered arm.

“We shall,” I said.

We walked down the hallway, and I felt a bit silly in the skirt. It whooshed around my legs in a way I wasn’t used to, and my calves were bare. It was a strange sensation.

Adrien raised one eyebrow and grinned as we passed the Caf. He finally stopped when we came to the training room.

“Are we going to be lifting weights or perfecting my aim?”

He smirked. “Neither.” He opened the door and I stepped in.

The lights were dimmed like they were during meditation, but in the farthest corner I could see a small table set up. Someone had draped a deep magenta fabric over the plain white walls beside the table, and as I came closer, I saw some of my newer drawings had been hung up. My brother’s face, my parents, even Max.

“I thought you might like to be surrounded by all the people you love tonight.”

I felt myself tearing up. I turned and hugged him. “It’s perfect,” I said.

He pulled back with a laugh. “But you haven’t even seen everything tonight has to offer.” The table itself had been covered in cloth too—a bright blue triangle piece was set over a bigger white cloth that draped over the edges of the table. A single rose spun in the light from a projection cube set in the center of the table.

Adrien popped the top of a tall bottle and poured sparkling liquid into our glasses.

“What is that?” I leaned in closer.

“The Community rations finally arrived, and I had Henk toss in some champagne as well.”

“But won’t I be allergic to it?”

“Nope. We’ve tested everything you’re going to eat tonight. It was all produced in the underground Community hothouses, with zero Surface allergens.”

“Wait,” I paused as what he said sank in. “You mean I’ll finally get to eat real food?”

He nodded, his grin so wide I thought it would split his face. “Surprise.”

I let out a giddy squeal and clapped my hands like Ginni did when she was excited.

“My lady,” he said, and held out a chair for me.

“Tonight you get to feast on braised beef and carrots, in a red wine sauce.” He clicked his com, and a few moments later, Jilia walked in carrying two loaded plates. She set them down in front of us.

“Thank you,” I said, but she didn’t respond, she just smiled and then walked out again.

I took a deep drink of the champagne and almost coughed because of the bubbles that seemed to fizz in my nose.

BOOK: Override (Glitch)
6.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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