I leave, taking my rope from the chimney, her eyes following my every move, and I scale down her ladder, wondering if the truth is what she really wanted to hear at all.
The Smallest Things
Jenna looks up at the sky. “I wish I could stay. I actually miss the snow terribly. It’s one of those things you don’t realize you’ll miss until you can’t have it.” She looks back at me. “I’m sorry I have to go. I know it’s bad timing for—”
“You need to leave. I want you to. We all have our limitations. You have your Bio Gel, and I’m … I’m missing that magic ten percent of original human goo that would make me legal. We have to deal with what we have.”
She squeezes my hand and pulls me closer. “The world will change, Locke. Laws change … people change.”
I hear the inflection in her voice. I told her about Raine. She knows what’s eating at me more than anything else. People change. But sometimes not in the ways we had hoped.
“I’ll be okay,” I tell her.
This time it’s me leaving her at the train station. A low-pressure depression is sending an unseasonal arctic blast to Boston in two days. She called me early this morning. She has to leave before it comes.
“I wish you’d take Miesha with you. It’s not safe for her to be here.”
“She won’t leave, Locke. I can’t force her. Besides, you need to tell her about Rebecca. She deserves that much. It’s her right.”
It may be her right but it’s also a connection that could kill her. “Not yet. It’s too dangerous for her right now. In a few days the account will expire and then the Secretary won’t have any use for Miesha. I’ll call for her to come back then, but if she should find out about Raine before that—”
“She’ll stay put at the apartment. I told her she’d jeopardize your Favor and maybe your life if she didn’t. She doesn’t give a hoot about the Favor but she does care about you.”
She’d give a hoot about the Favor if she knew what it was all about. But I do wonder, if I’m even able to get Karden out of that hellhole, after so many years apart, will he and Miesha only be strangers? Will there be any love left between them? How long can … I take a deep breath. Raine. How many years does it take to stop loving someo
ne?
“I’m sorry, Locke. I know how much this hurts. But maybe she’ll—”
I put my hand up in the same way Raine did last night to stop Jenna from saying more.
“I told you, I’m okay,” I say firmly, and I smile, determined not to let thoughts of Raine show on my face again. “Say hello to Allys and Kayla for me. I’ll call as soon as I can.”
“Be careful,” she says.
I nod. “Always.”
She kisses my cheek and turns to leave but I stop her one last time. I hesitate, feeling foolish, maybe even afraid to hear her answer, but she’s the only one I can ask. “Do you ever get used to it, Jenna?”
“What’s that?”
“Not being who you once were … not being like everyone else?”
She looks at me, staring for the longest time, and finally reaches up, raking her fingers through my hair and then pulling a strand over my eye, exactly where my cowlick used to be. She frowns. “Being like everyone else is highly overrated.”
She turns and leaves. I watch her walk down the stairs to meet her train, my eyes never leaving her until she’s swallowed up by other travelers, and I wonder when and if I’ll ever see her again.
* * *
It’s still early, barely past breakfast, and I stroll through Quincy Market, most of the shops still closed, again wishing I could fast-forward the clock, wondering how I’ll fill the whole day waiting for night to come. But everything I told Raine last night was true. With or without her help, I’m going down tonight, down before Xavier and Carver think it’s time to implement Plan B, down before LeGru uses a scan on Karden that he might not survive. Down because if I can’t get any more information from the Secretary, there’s no reason to wait. All I’m doing is giving him more time to beat me to what we both want. I’ll have to use the little information I was able to get and trust my instincts for the rest.
I pass a bakery and am caught off guard when the shopkeeper waves me down, remembering me from my visit with Livvy.
“Hello, Locke. Nice to see you again. How’s your mother?” I open my mouth to answer but then notice that one of her fingers is torn away, the digital coils glowing. I had no idea she was a Bot. She’s as realistic as they come, imperfect, wrinkled, plump around the middle. She sees me staring. “Little accident. Reached too far into the mixer. Bot Repair comes tomorrow.” She smiles, but there’s nothing more about her. Her eyes are focused and bright, but dead. She is perfectly programmed. Friendly, efficient, but nothing beyond that. How does the more happen with some and not others? How did it happen with Dot? We dream. We imagine. Dot’s voice is still clear in my head, a unique voice that was hers alone. It’s a voice I desperately needed to hear right now, to remind me of the whole meaning of the Favor.
The Bot waits politely for my response. “My mother’s fine, thank you,” I reply.
She offers me a curly protein sample and tells me they’re on special, two for one. I pass and move on.