Holden took her silence as something it wasn’t. He kept talking. “It wasn’t supposed to get you hurt. I was putting a wedge between your father and Cortázar. That was all. You were the only thing that would do that. Everyone saw how much he loved you.”
“Did they?”
Holden’s nod was slow to start, like he was already turning into ice. “There was a woman I knew. Long time. She used to say you can’t judge anyone by what they say. You have to watch what they do.”
“She said that.”
“I recognize the irony. But I watched what she did too. How she made people like her. How she made them afraid. I’m not good at the second one, but I was pretty good at the first part.”
“Because of her?”
“In part. And I watched what your father did with you. How he treated you. And I used that. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?”
“Not repentant,” he said. “Just sorry.”
“So sorry that you’d do it again the same way?”
“I’d try to move it along a little faster, but yes. Sorry that it was my best move.”
Teresa looked up into the clouds again. The snow swirled down at them. Her fingers and toes were starting to burn. There still wasn’t a ship.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I knew you were the enemy. You did what enemies do. It’s worse when it’s your friends.”
“That’s true,” Holden said. And then, “Cart’s coming.”
She listened and heard it too. The electric whine of a security cart. The way the snow muffled sound, it had to be close. She looked around for someplace to hide, some way to escape, but the snow would give her away no matter where she went, and Holden couldn’t run anymore.
“Stay calm,” she said. “I’ll handle it.”
A moment later, Holden rose to his feet, and Muskrat looked up at him, concerned. The dog’s expression said, Maybe you should sit back down. You don’t look steady. Holden scratched between her ears.
There were voices now. She made out two of them. Maybe a third. Down the path that led back to the State Building, a light began to dance. Headlights on a cart moving fast through the fallen snow. Voices calling her name. The cart rolled into the clearing and stopped. Three men in it. Two wore guard uniforms like the one Holden had stolen. The third was Colonel Ilich.
Ilich leaped out, pistol raised at Holden.
“Put your hands up,” Ilich shouted. “Now!”
“Okay,” Holden said, poking his arms back into his sleeves, then lifting them. “I’m not armed.”
“Teresa, get in the cart.”
“No, you get in the cart,” Teresa said. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Ilich turned toward her, shock in his eyes. She watched him understand, confusion slipping seamlessly into rage.
“Get in the fucking cart,” Ilich said.
“Or you’ll shoot me?”
The two guards looked at each other nervously, but Ilich walked toward her. He kept his pistol trained on Holden, but his eyes were on her.
“No, I won’t shoot you. But I’ll put a guard on you every moment for the rest of your life.”
“You don’t control me anymore,” Teresa shouted, and Ilich laughed.
“Of course I do. That is literally my first duty. Make sure the girl eats. Make sure the girl sleeps. Educate her. Socialize her. I am your fucking mother, and I am telling you to get your spoiled, egotistical, self-centered ass into that God damn cart!”