Jamie’s legs poke out into the hall from the living room. Miriam squats down beside him. He’s not moving.
“Leave it,” Miriam says, over her shoulder. “I’ll clean up later. What was this about?”
Tesla rises slowly to his feet. “I had Benjamin upgrade Jamie’s tracker. The reading was high. I commented that he has lost a lot of ground from when he was following the Deactivation Program. Davis remarked that we could all guess why. Jamie punched him.”
I can only see the back of Miriam’s head, but I can picture her look of disgust. My insides tie in double-knots. He knows. Of course he knows. They all do.
“This is a long way from the table,” Miriam says.
“Davis responded with his baton. Set to maximum.”
She shakes her head.
“It will wear off shortly.” There’s a long pause then he says, “They have to end it.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Without a sanction they cannot be together. He made a commitment to the program. To Helena.”
“He loves Evangeline.” Miriam looks up at him.
For one moment I squeeze my eyes tight shut. My heart, a drowning thing.
Finally he says, “Then he will do what is right.”
Her jaw hardens and she rises to her feet. “They’re Synergists.”
He flinches, his lips parting, his frown bearing down. “Have they …?”
“She says they haven’t.”
I clench my fists.
Exhaling, he grips his temples between thumb and forefinger, as though the whole idea gives him a headache. “When she comes in for Orientation, there will be no way to hide this from the Proxy.”
Proxy
.
The word sends an icy chill up my spine. I picture the little girl in the tank and the room with black glass. What the hell
is
a Proxy? The child? The tank of goo? Some kind of telepathic A-bomb? And why does the Synergist issue need to be a secret? Is it more than disapproval of unsanctioned relationships?
“
I know
,” Miriam says. “But you can do
something
. Felicity could–”
“Felicity does not control the Proxy.”
“I’m just saying–” Her voice breaks. “You’re in a position to help her.”
Tesla doesn’t reply.
Miriam swipes the back of her wrist across her eyes; that deep mournful note thrums in the bandwidth.
Jamie groans, shifts his legs.
In the driveway, the van starts up.
Tesla hesitates as though about to speak. His hands ball into fists then release. He swivels on his heel and strides out of sight through the kitchen and out the back door.
My mind in total disorder, I rise as quickly and quietly as I can, press my hands to my eyes, steady myself and make my way downstairs, stepping over the mess in the hallway. Through the window I catch a glimpse of the van pulling out onto the road. Black. Tinted windows. Not remotely subtle.
Jamie has hauled himself up to sit with his back against the couch. Miriam pokes at a cut on his eyebrow, making him wince. He reaches to feel for the lump in the back of his neck.
“You should be resting,” Miriam says, not looking at me.
“I’m fine.” I’m disintegrating.
Jamie squints up at me. I lower myself onto the couch beside him, nudging his shoulder with my leg, working to keep my face even. “Defending my honour?”
He frowns. Miriam’s head snaps up.
“I heard Tesla.”
“You did?” she says. “Then you heard what he said about you two.”
“Miriam,” Jamie begins.
“It’s over. I’m sorry, but you knew from the start it would have to be like this. You both have trackers now. There’s no getting round it. Say your goodbyes and go.” She stands, her sombre gaze on me. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”
We both stare at her back as she crosses the hall to her studio, and watch through the glass door when she closes it behind her. She disappears around the corner to the darkroom, making her way to the hidden training room below. Neither of us speaks. I’m not sure that I can; my mind feels ransacked. All my contained fear of the impossible, inevitable end, tipped
“Leave it,” Miriam says, over her shoulder. “I’ll clean up later. What was this about?”
Tesla rises slowly to his feet. “I had Benjamin upgrade Jamie’s tracker. The reading was high. I commented that he has lost a lot of ground from when he was following the Deactivation Program. Davis remarked that we could all guess why. Jamie punched him.”
I can only see the back of Miriam’s head, but I can picture her look of disgust. My insides tie in double-knots. He knows. Of course he knows. They all do.
“This is a long way from the table,” Miriam says.
“Davis responded with his baton. Set to maximum.”
She shakes her head.
“It will wear off shortly.” There’s a long pause then he says, “They have to end it.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Without a sanction they cannot be together. He made a commitment to the program. To Helena.”
“He loves Evangeline.” Miriam looks up at him.
For one moment I squeeze my eyes tight shut. My heart, a drowning thing.
Finally he says, “Then he will do what is right.”
Her jaw hardens and she rises to her feet. “They’re Synergists.”
He flinches, his lips parting, his frown bearing down. “Have they …?”
“She says they haven’t.”
I clench my fists.
Exhaling, he grips his temples between thumb and forefinger, as though the whole idea gives him a headache. “When she comes in for Orientation, there will be no way to hide this from the Proxy.”
Proxy
.
The word sends an icy chill up my spine. I picture the little girl in the tank and the room with black glass. What the hell
is
a Proxy? The child? The tank of goo? Some kind of telepathic A-bomb? And why does the Synergist issue need to be a secret? Is it more than disapproval of unsanctioned relationships?
“
I know
,” Miriam says. “But you can do
something
. Felicity could–”
“Felicity does not control the Proxy.”
“I’m just saying–” Her voice breaks. “You’re in a position to help her.”
Tesla doesn’t reply.
Miriam swipes the back of her wrist across her eyes; that deep mournful note thrums in the bandwidth.
Jamie groans, shifts his legs.
In the driveway, the van starts up.
Tesla hesitates as though about to speak. His hands ball into fists then release. He swivels on his heel and strides out of sight through the kitchen and out the back door.
My mind in total disorder, I rise as quickly and quietly as I can, press my hands to my eyes, steady myself and make my way downstairs, stepping over the mess in the hallway. Through the window I catch a glimpse of the van pulling out onto the road. Black. Tinted windows. Not remotely subtle.
Jamie has hauled himself up to sit with his back against the couch. Miriam pokes at a cut on his eyebrow, making him wince. He reaches to feel for the lump in the back of his neck.
“You should be resting,” Miriam says, not looking at me.
“I’m fine.” I’m disintegrating.
Jamie squints up at me. I lower myself onto the couch beside him, nudging his shoulder with my leg, working to keep my face even. “Defending my honour?”
He frowns. Miriam’s head snaps up.
“I heard Tesla.”
“You did?” she says. “Then you heard what he said about you two.”
“Miriam,” Jamie begins.
“It’s over. I’m sorry, but you knew from the start it would have to be like this. You both have trackers now. There’s no getting round it. Say your goodbyes and go.” She stands, her sombre gaze on me. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”
We both stare at her back as she crosses the hall to her studio, and watch through the glass door when she closes it behind her. She disappears around the corner to the darkroom, making her way to the hidden training room below. Neither of us speaks. I’m not sure that I can; my mind feels ransacked. All my contained fear of the impossible, inevitable end, tipped
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