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  “No, no it isn’t,” I say. “Talk to me. I need to understand. You told me about John earlier. How does he—”

  She pulls me farther away from the main chamber. “John has nothing to do with any of this. He didn’t come to lead us. He came to awaken us. If I would have taken charge like he wanted me to, Dakota never would have been hurt. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault,” I say gently. “Why are you attacking them? That’s not what we need to be doing at all. We need to be searching. The machines are here to find something. If we find that something before they do—”

  Sierra cuts me off. “You have no idea what we need to do. How could you possibly?”

  “You’re right,” I say, pushing back against the wall. “How could I possibly? I deserve that and more, but I’m trying to understand. Help me. Tell me about John.”

  She snatches an errant strand of hair out of her eyes and thrusts it back. “John doesn’t have anything to do with any of this. We’re going after the column. Ready yourself.”

  “You’re the leader, not me,” I say. “I’m just trying to tell you something. Something I think you should know. There’s millions of those things—more than millions. Stopping a few of them isn’t going to do anything.”

  She smiles in an odd way; it’s almost a smirk. “You think so now, but you’ll see.”

  I don’t think I will. She’s wrong—very wrong. My homecoming is nothing like I thought it would be. I don’t know what I expected. I do know this isn’t it.

  Her mood brightens. “Have you eaten? Not much to go around but we all need to eat. See Austin in the meal room upstairs.”

  She takes me to the stairs. I follow at her side. As we walk, I am bathed alternately in shadow and light, and I see things. A tiny hand reaching up to mine. A tangle of long blond curls. A pair of eyes so blue they rival the clearest, brightest sky.

  Chapter 8

  Node: 100

  Luke is waiting for me on the upper level. Sierra is drawn away by Dakota.

  Luke reaches out when I approach. “It’s happened again, hasn’t it?”

  “Not what you think,” I say, “but yes.” Over our link, I share what I saw in my mind’s eye. It’s not something I even realized I could do, but I do it just the same. “What do you think they mean, these visions?”

  The large room is busy with those preparing to leave and those going about other business. Luke takes my hand, pulls me to a quieter area. “I don’t know, Cedes, but this is something we should keep between us.”

  I don’t disagree with him. “Have you eaten? Sierra said to see Austin.”

  He glances away and then looks directly in my eyes. “There are others with governors. I’ve counted four so far. With Sierra, that makes five that I’ve seen. There may be more.”

  I look away from him. Across the room, Skye is checking her gear, having just come up from below. Somehow, she doesn’t look as small and powerless as I imagined her to be before. I also can’t help but notice her eyes moving every now and again to the opposite side of the room where Peyton is standing or how Peyton looks back when she isn’t looking. He does this despite the fact tall, long-legged Vesta is standing nearby almost daring him to see her.

  “Cedes, are you listening to me?” Luke says. “I’m trying to tell you something doesn’t add up here. We need to be out there searching. We won’t get the answers we need until we do.”

  This isn’t a conversation I want to be having. “Sierra is my sister, my true sister. I know her like I know no other—even you. I trust her absolutely. And, you know my preference is go after Matthew.”

  His eyes admonish me. “You’ve never been fully connected. There’s no way to resist the will of the collective. Even now, even with our connection, I must resist or be swept away with my thoughts of what they want and need.”

  River, Hunter, Peyton, and Echo approach, talking noisily about taking on the machines. I wait until they pass to reply. “I thought we were past this, I thought—”

  He laces the fingers of both his hands in mine. He pulls me to him and kisses me. “Our connection fills me, but they are ever present at the edges of my thoughts. Just as you will forever be Lucent, I will always be Cogent. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. It is what it is.”

  I pull away from him. This isn’t something I want to hear. “I am me. Mercedes, Cedes. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “To understand yourself, you must understand what makes a Lucent, a Lucent. Just as I try to appeal to you with reason and sensibilities, you try to understand and bring clarity to the world. It is what and who we are, even if it isn’t something we choose or want.”

  Does he really believe this? Or does he just want me to have something to believe in. Something to wrap my thoughts around. “I am not controlled by anything—”

  “You are—that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can reason through this and see what you haven’t. Just as we can use what we know about the collectives to understand them, we can use this knowledge to understand ourselves and others. Ardents are zealots. Regents, leaders. Docents, academics. Erodents, radicals. Nascents, tinkerers. Well, in ways and measures, at least.”

  I see the determination in his eyes. This is something he wants to me to see as he sees. “And?” I say.

  “This can help us learn the true agendas. Not all of the collectives within the amalgamation are at odds with each other, and we need only truly fear the Ardents.”

  When I close my eyes and lean against him, I imagine just for a moment I’m back at Central. “We need for or the Cogents?” I say, looking up at him.

  “Which faction would you rather have in control? It will be one or the other. The Ardents want unification through purification, an end to all save their one true collective. They offer conversion and assimilation or collection and recycling. The Cogents understand the need for coexistence.”

  “What I want is to go home,” I say, but only to myself. Hoping for something and losing it is more than never hoping for anything at all. To him, I say, my voice shaking, “Fine, enough.”

  It’s not enough. He has to get in the final word. I know the gist of what he’s going to say even before he says it. My knowing doesn’t stop him. “You’re blinded by what was. I’m asking you to see what’s right in front of you. We don’t know anything about what really happened or about what’s really happening.”

  There is nothing but what is and what comes. I was; I am. Why can’t he see this too?

  Chapter 9

  Node: 100

  Dakota finding Luke and I whispering quietly in the shadows seems like a betrayal of his trust. I feel even worse when his first concern is whether we’ve eaten. Nearby, Austin is serving up spoonfuls of pasty lumps from a large iron pot. He drops one into my hand. It’s not more than a mouthful that I eat in two gulps.

  Water and weapons seem to be the only things there’s no shortage of. I drink my fill of water to wash down the grainy paste. I never thought I’d miss machine food and the thought while others look on with clear hunger makes me feel selfish and insignificant.

  “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” Luke says, holding up a small knife next to Dakota’s arm-sized blade.

  “Only as a back up to your rifle,” Dakota says. “Trust me, you may need it out there.”

  Luke tucks the knife into his belt and unshoulders his rifle. The rifle is a type I’ve never seen before with a large scope for sighting and two collapsible legs. “This, this is more like it.”

  Sultry Vesta and stocky Peyton lead Luke away. He’s soon swarmed by half a dozen others.

  “Good to see you two getting along,” I say to Dakota, smiling a little. “Where’s mine?”

  Dakota starts to toss me a rifle that’s a match for Luke’s, decides better, and walks it over to me. With its weight in my hands, I’m glad he didn’t throw it to me. I would’ve dropped it. “Anything smaller?” I ask.

 
; Dakota bobs his head, as if I’ve said something funny. He stares at me, his eyes studying my body from head to toe. Then he exchanges the heavy rifle for a standard blaster rifle and a pistol. “Better?”

  I stare at him. As if I need him to remind me that I’m small and weak. I have so many questions for him. I want to ask him about John, about Celeste, about so many things. “Tell me about John?” I say.

  Dakota’s smile thins. “What about him?”

  “Sierra told me that he came to help. When was he here last?”

  “We owe John everything.” He casts a furtive look away and then leans in toward me. “Been many days at least.”

  “Why did he leave?” I ask.

  “Not my place to say.”

  “Never mind,” I say, shaking my head. I feel like there are things he wants to tell me. But even I know it’s Sierra who should be telling me these things. “I’m sure Sierra and I can talk about this later.”

  Dakota stares at me for a few seconds. “He comes and goes. One day he just wasn’t here anymore. Sierra didn’t say why he left and I didn’t ask.”

  “And he just shows up?”

  Dakota straightens. “It isn’t like that. We couldn’t find a safe place away from the machines, away from Matthew. John and the two with him helped us, showed us there was so much more to this area than the trees and the lake. Before that the only advantage we had was the machines didn’t like the wolves and the wolves didn’t like the machines.”

  The sound of footsteps directly behind me draws my attention. I turn to see Sierra and Luke. She has a heavy rifle over her right shoulder and a heavy pack on her back. She’s not much taller than me, so I don’t know how she’s going to stay upright with all that gear on.

  Sierra narrows her eyes at Dakota, as if she can sense what we were talking about. To me, she says, “Ready?”

  “Before we head out, where’s Celeste?” I say. “Is she with Dasher? I wanted to talk to her, but I haven’t seen her anywhere.”

  Sierra frowns at me before continuing on to River, Hunter, and the others gathered by the door.

  “Gone with Apple,” Dakota says quietly.

  “Oh.” I shrug. “I didn’t know. When will they return?”

  “They won’t,” Dakota says, as he shoulders his pack. “Best be going if we want to set up before the column arrives.”

  Luke and I follow him out the door. Instantly, I’m greeted by a light drizzle. The air is cool, though there’s not much wind. Sierra and the others are already moving into the trees. She’s giving them last minute instructions as they go.

  “River, Echo, Hunter,” she says, stepping quickly, “we’ll return just after sunset. Be ready just in case.”

  She doesn’t say what they should be ready for. Instead she leaves the implication hanging in the air as they each in turn nod and run off.

  Trees and groundcover close in on us as we go. Luke and I line up behind Dakota. We move at a steady, rapid pace.

  Sierra ahead of us, talks to the others. “Cali, Vesta, Luka, just like before. Stay alert. You know what to do when the time comes. On my signal.”

  I pull Luke aside when she jogs ahead to address Ovid, Peyton, and Skye. “Something’s wrong. I’ve asked about Celeste a few times. She’s missing. Sierra won’t tell me what happened. Dasher and Apple are missing too.”

  Dakota comes back to us before Luke can answer. “Keep up, we have to move quickly. I recommend you pay attention. Those who don’t learn don’t make it.”

  He doesn’t say anymore. I can’t help wondering if his words are the answer I’m looking for. Celeste, Dasher and Apple aren’t missing gone—they’re gone gone. But how? And why won’t Sierra just tell me?

  We skirt the west bank of the lake. Every now and again I catch glimpses of what must have been a road going around it. Mosquitos buzzing around us seem to delight in the deepening shadows. There are birds feeding at the shoreline. Sometimes I see dark shapes scurrying about under the water.

  As we come around the north side of the lake, I see Hunter in a tree above us. He waves as I pass. I trudge on, a few steps behind Luke. The lake is to my right. Through breaks in the trees, I see buildings to my left.

  I know we’re going to set up a few intersections away from the northeast corner of the park. I keep thinking we’re going to edge out of the trees and into the street, but we don’t.

  Dakota walks beside me. There’s concern in his eyes. “I know you’ve fought them before, but are you ready for this? Taking on a column is nothing like taking them on one by one.”

  By them, I know he means the machines and the remnants. He doesn’t wait for my response. “You need to learn how to fight. If we had time, I could have prepared you to respond to threats and challenges. Prepare yourself if you want to survive. Watch my technique.”

  His eyes tell me his concern is genuine, that he’s telling me this because he wants me to live. He continues, “Hand to hand, if it comes to it, isn’t something you’re going to win. You’re small. You don’t have much muscle.”

  I’m about to object when he thrusts down with his elbows, left and right. He follows with sharp upward thrusts from his knees. “Elbows and knees. They’ll give you more power. They’ll get you through. If what you’re up against is bigger and stronger, be faster and smarter.”

  Where he learned such tactics is something I can only guess at. These hand-to-hand skills aren’t something I learned from the machines. I practice a few elbow and knee thrusts.

  “Good,” Dakota says, flashing a smile. He touches my stomach with his good hand. Something I’m not expecting and I jump back. “Easy, easy. Keep tension here. It’ll help.”

  It’s not his touch, I want to tell him. It’s his voice. The quiet, steady tone he uses when giving instruction scares the daylights out of me. Almost like he’s compelling me to listen to his every word, with the implication that something bad is going to happen if I don’t.

  Sierra lifts her hand and crouches down. She’s reached the edge of the trees. Luke, Dakota and I scramble to catch up and get behind her. “East side of the circle,” she tells three of the others. “Go, set up cover.”

  Ovid, Peyton, and Skye slip out into the street. They move swiftly, quietly, disappearing into the late afternoon shadows almost immediately.

  Behind me, I feel the warm press of Luke. He’s edged forward, his chest pushing into my shoulders. Cedes…

  I don’t need to tell him I don’t have a good feeling about this. The sense of foreboding running through me is his too. …Luke.

  Chapter 10

  Node: 101

  Luke and I leave the trees at a run, following Dakota and Sierra. Cali, Vesta, and Luka are ahead of us, rifles drawn and readied.

  Sierra looks back to us. “Madison and 110th, in case we get separated.”

  Cali, Vesta, and Luka keep ranging in front, moving as if one. I hear a low whistle ahead.

  The pace quickens. No one and nothing else moves on the street except the light rain. We enter the circle from the west. I don’t see Ovid, Peyton, and Skye until we’re practically on top of them. It’s the whites of their eyes I see first, from the shadows.

  Sierra, Dakota, Luke, and I stop, take cover. Sierra clasps hands with Peyton. “Good, good,” she whispers.

  We wait until Cali, Vesta, and Luka disappear from view. Then the seven of us follow.

  “Like jumping frogs,” Sierra says to me. It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about our movements. “Safer, so we can provide cover fire for each other if needed.”

  I nod. All I can think about is what a terrible mistake we’re about to make. I have to know what’s going on with Matthew and the machines. I’m going crazy not knowing.

  At the intersection of Madison and 110th, we regroup in the shadow of a tall building. My heart is beating in my chest from the brisk pace. Luke beside me is hunched over panting. The others are barely short of breath, like brisk maneuvers with heavy gear are something they do ever
y day.

  “You and Dakota,” Luke says quietly. “What were you talking about before?”

  “Nothing really. He was just giving me some pointers.”

  Luke shakes his head. “No, I meant before we left.”

  “John,” I whisper back without thinking.

  All the color runs out of Luke’s face, as if he’s just seen something that shouldn’t be there. “John, John. Our John?”

  I realize I didn’t tell him about John earlier. I know I should have but his sober reaction is what I was hoping to avoid until much later.

  “Park and 110th,” Sierra tells the others. “West side, east side. We’ll cover from the north.”

  Getting the final orders, Skye has a hint of fear in her eyes. She’s trying to hide a tremor too, but her clenched jaw is losing the battle with her teeth. When I see it, Sierra does and her reaction is unexpected. I don’t see the hand coming around. Dakota does and he steps into it as Skye drops to a knee and puts up her hands.

  As Luke helps Skye up and steadies her, I notice how much taller he is than her. How she’s just a little slip of a thing, more chest and teeth than flesh and bone, with short-cropped hair the same brown as her eyes.

  My eyes flit from Skye to Sierra. I don’t like the dark side of her I keep seeing. The sense there’s something going on that I don’t understand is strong. Sierra and Dakota skulk away and speak heatedly. I hear most of what they’re saying.

  “You said she was ready,” Sierra says. She’s all business, like a switch inside her flipped and the Sierra of old is no longer there.

  “She is,” Dakota hisses.

  Sierra glares at him. “You saw her, only a breath away from a breakdown. That’ll get us all killed.”

  Dakota puts his metal hand on her shoulder, says more firmly, “Maybe if you stop blaming her for Stone, she’ll stop blaming herself. He’s gone, nothing’s going to bring him back.”

  Quiet whispers I can’t hear follow. Before they return, I see Dakota touch his metal hand to her cheek. She doesn’t shy away.