“The Fox?”
“Sorry, I thought you would have known. That’s what Jenna and her branch of the Network was called. The Fox connection. That is, back when she was active.”
“Right,” I say, like I did know. I guess now I’m part of that connection. “Yes, we knew each other from the very beginning.”
“Please, continue.”
I tell them how close we all were, the accident that stole away our lives, and the BioPerfect that gave it back.
Carver leans forward. “But you didn’t get your life back right away, did you?”
If he knows this detail, I’m sure he knows a lot more. I have no doubt that Father Andre culled every bit of information from Jenna and Allys that he could.
“No,” I answer. “I didn’t get it back right away. Jenna’s dad built a new body around what was left of her, but my mind and Kara’s were scanned and uploaded into six-inch cubes and then forgotten on a storage shelf for a long time.”
“A long time? Just how long would that be?” His lips are parted, feigned surprise, anticipation, timing, waiting.
Click. Now I know why he’s probing these details. He wants to see how fragile I am. How sensitive. Am I really up for this task? This is no ordinary Favor. How much pushing can I take? Will I blow? A year ago, I might have.
I look directly into his eyes. “Two hundred sixty years,” I say. I don’t raise my voice. I don’t blink, not even when Livvy muffles a groan.
“That’s a very long time,” he says. “That kind of wait could make almost anyone go insane.”
And he knows about Kara too. Nice job, Father Andre. You didn’t overlook a single garish detail. “Yes. Almost anyone,” I answer. If he thinks that little push will rattle me, he’s wrong. I don’t miss a beat and go on point by point so he can see just how sane and in control I am. I tell them about the environments where our minds were uploaded, and the BioPerfect that Gatsbro developed. “He gave us a second chance and new bodies that were near exact replicas of our originals, but it came with a catch—we were prisoners on his estate. He used us as floor models to show off his illegal technology to potential customers. When we found out what he was keeping us there for, we ran.”
So there you have it, Carver and illustrious Team. Deal with it. I have a body created in a lab. Eighty percent bioengineered human, twenty percent composites, one hundred percent illegal.
“You said ‘near exact.’ Tell us about the changes.”
With a brief scan, I can see the anticipation in all their faces. I’m a curiosity. Something they’ve never seen before. “Gatsbro was a stickler for detail. He even managed to engineer our tissue with our saved DNA so we would retain our original identity. That’s how I knew the changes weren’t an accident. I’m four inches taller now. A lot stronger. Green flecks in my eyes. No cowlick. Straighter teeth. Gatsbro made improvements to help sell his product. But there were some things he didn’t plan on. That’s the wonder of experimental technology. The BioPerfect created some changes he didn’t calculate.” I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. “I can read lips—from very long distances. I never could do that before. That’s how I nailed a cheat back in California.”
Livvy and Jake exchange glances, probably making mental notes to guard their lips carefully.
“I’m also learning to read faces.”
“Meaning?” Carver asks.
“When I concentrate, I can dissect a face into multiple planes. Emotions stand out the most, usually the ones we try to hide. Fear, anger, hatred.” And also things like blatant lies and exaggerations. I glance at Xavier. “I don’t always get it, but I know when I see something that isn’t quite right.”
“That might be useful,” Livvy says.
Carver nods. “Are you concentrating now?”
I look at his face. Hunger. Need. Hope. I shake my head. “No.”
“Any other changes?”
I think of my lapses. He said to share every detail, but I haven’t had a lapse in several weeks. Maybe I’m over that. What about my sensitivity to pain? Is that really a wise thing to share? Gatsbro used it to control me. Or that I heal quickly? In less than a quarter of the time it might usually take? Would knowing this allow them to take greater chances with me? If I’m going to risk life and limb, I don’t want the odds stacked against me. I decide to stick to something that Xavier has already witnessed.
I sit back in my chair. “I can see in the dark—if I push myself. Not a lot, but dim outlines, enough to find my way. When we were coming down the stairs I could see Jake ready to bust in our brains long before Xavier did.”
Carver raises his brows. This piece of information transforms his face.
“But I don’t like the dark,” I add. “I don’t want to spend a lot of time in dark places.”
“You’re afraid of the dark?” Mr. F asks.
I make no apologies to anyone about my fear of the dark. When you’ve spent 260 years in a black hole with no sound, touch, or light, you have a whole new understanding of what darkness can mean. “Yeah, Xavier. You got a problem with that?”