Si smiled slowly, the cogs inside his sharp mind turning for all to see. “We just need to choose who we go for beforehand, so I can provide the contact lenses to match the cards. And then the place is an open playground for you.”

  You. Lena. Oh, fuck no.

  Chapter 18

  I Felt Beyond Sick

  Lena

  “Can I have a word with you?” Trent asked, as everyone talked at once, and Si started bringing up employee records on the main vid-screen, while that strange Wang Jie guy peered over his shoulder following his every, single move. “Privately,” Trent added, calling my attention back to him.

  He looked good. Rested even, despite me knowing he hadn’t rested at all. Simply come back here as soon as I’d insisted on showering alone. I knew, because he’d followed me out of his room where he’d just shown me exactly how a man should love a woman. Shown me I’d been playing at sex until now and only just found the real thing.

  His hair was still slightly tousled, but not enough to let anyone guess that I’d had my fingers through it. His clothes were clean, not what he’d been wearing before, still jeans and a t-shirt, but this time his top was a pale blue, not navy. A blue, that I acknowledged, matched my eyes. I wondered if that was why he’d chosen it.

  When he’d turned, after I’d first spoken, I’d seen him favour his left side, the side where he’d been almost killed by a laser beam. But his face hadn’t shown pain, it had displayed longing. The type of look I’d never experienced before. Not with anyone; lovers, friends, Wang Chao. It was deeply intimate, entirely personal, and something that should only be on show in private. Yet he’d not even attempted to hide his expression. Tan watching him, while Trent watched me.

  And I’d loved it. I’d wanted to bask in that look. To savour it. To let it fly free for all to see.

  But I didn’t show it.

  And then when he’d growled, an honest to God growl at Jared, it had taken everything in me not to soothe him. Reassure him. Go to him.

  “Lena?” he asked again now. “A moment, please.” So formal. Following my lead.

  I nodded my head and stepped to the rear of the room, still visible, but out of earshot, waiting to hear what he had to say. For a split second I wondered if it would be personal; a lover’s shared tête-à-tête.

  For a split second I held my breath in eager anticipation.

  “You’re not going into the factory,” he said, and a whoosh of air expelled from my lungs abruptly.

  “Of course I am.”

  One firm shake of his head, his eyes hardening.

  “It’s too dangerous and we have no idea if you’d gain any valuable intel there anyway.”

  “It’s the most obvious place to try.”

  “Did you get anything at the dock office?”

  My head shook, much more slowly than his had.

  “I doubt there’d be anything worthwhile at the factory either,” he added.

  “Where else would it be?

  “Parliament House,” he offered. And it was a good suggestion; the old parliament building in Viaduct Quay now housed the offices of the Overseers. The name had stuck, despite the fact that we’d abolished those old parliamentary laws and the government that had originally worked there.

  And security wouldn’t be as tight as the building in Remoh Ehrah.

  “You really think Shiloh would be there?” I asked, and watched frustration leak into his eyes.

  “It would be wise to check it out first,” he argued. “Cover our bases.”

  I waved a hand in front of my face and shook my head. An Elite condescending dismissal. It was natural. And not exactly wanted. But Trent had a tendency to bring out the Honourable in me.

  “The risks associated with trying there first outweigh the risks at the drone factory.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he shot back, anger sparking a darker blue in his eyes. Trent could be dismissive as well. “How do you figure that?”

  “The chances of finding anything to do with Shiloh at Parliament House are slim, whereas the chance of finding information at the drone factory is high. For all we know, that’s where her mainframe is kept.”

  We’d tried speculating where Shiloh’s… brain, for want of a better word, was. But so far we’d come up with only wild guesses. She hadn’t been at the Palace. I doubted she’d be at Parliament House, but it was still a consideration. The drone factory was a good bet, but then, maybe she was on one of the former military bases, heavily guarded. Wánměi had several and not all of them were abandoned.

  “You have to admit,” I tried, “the amount of security at the factory indicates a high probability of there being more there than drone parts.”

  “Drones are her livelihood,” Trent countered, but his temper had waned, his words growing softer again. “She’d want them guarded well.” He rubbed at his chin, stubble darkening along his jaw. He hadn’t shaved and I found that I liked it. “But you do raise a valid point.”

  He turned back to Si, once again the rebel leader. The way he could slip from one role to the next so smoothly was pure beauty to watch. Alone in his room he’d been attentive and caring, allowing himself to get carried away by desire and lust. Just now, he’d been protective - I wasn’t stupid, I knew what this argument was really about - laced with that possessiveness I’d recently seen; his right to command what was his on blatant display.

  And here we had the strategist, the freedom fighter, the man who would lead us to One Wánměi.

  I was in love with each one. It was a realisation that was gaining traction.

  “Si, have we updated our intel on high security facilities throughout the country recently?”

  Simon turned back from his vid-screen, where he’d progressed on from staff records at the drone factory, to the food supply company and their schedule of deliveries. Deliveries that appeared to be collected by each on-coming drone factory kitchen shift, thereby reducing the amount of foreign traffic at the Remoh Ehrah complex.

  I noticed that Wang Jie hadn’t left Simon’s side. I watched the Wáikěinese even as I listened to Trent and Simon talk.

  “It’s been a while. Maybe five years. Not much changes in Wánměi.”

  “Everything has changed in Wánměi,” Tan countered, from where he was sitting with Jared, going over printed schematics, no doubt of the complex in Remoh Ehrah.

  Trent’s head spun towards Tan so quickly it caught my eye. I stopped observing Wang Jie and concentrated on him instead. Finding the eager desire to do so strangely addictive.

  “You have a point,” Trent conceded, and I caught Tan’s surprise. He hid it quickly; it’s not as if he’d been angling for a reaction, his words not thrown caustically, only offered in passing. But he’d not expected Trent to so easily agree. Conflict and argument and petty snarls had been their usual form of communication lately. I wondered if things were changing. Trent’s speech earlier building a bridge.

  “Do you want me to update it?” Si asked, and I could tell he didn’t fancy the idea. He glanced back at the main vid-screen, then looked at the one to the side displaying the drone factory, and finally sighed as his focus settled on Overseer Markham’s vid-screen.

  “Maybe one of the others can help,” Trent offered, in what had to be a purposeful show of inclusion.

  Tan stood up slowly from the desk he’d been working on and crossed to stand in front of Trent. His approach was cautious, but open.

  “Jared is good with computers,” he offered. “It would be fairly straight forward to analyse drone activity throughout the more prominent companies and present it for you.”

  I swallowed past a thick throat, aware everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing and were watching this play out as well. Just as anxious as me.

  The fact Trent had made the statement at all was a huge step in uniting our teams. But to follow through would require trust I was sure Trent didn’t yet feel. And this information could be vital.

  I glanced at Jared, his head tipped down shielding his eyes, a move I’d seen him effect before. A lank strip of black hair hung over his forehead, giving him the appearance of a shaggy dog waiting for his master to tell him what to do, or pet him on the head. I’d have to ask Tan how he’d found his men. Wang Jie and Jared were not cut from the same cloth.

  But Tan was still avoiding me. At least when I tried to catch him alone, that is. In a group, like now, he was quite happy to be around me. But the moment I cornered him on his own he was off. We had a lot to talk about, Tan and I. Whether we’d achieve that, I didn’t yet know.

  “OK,” Trent replied, his gaze on Jared and not on Tan. I saw a muscle jump in his jaw. His eyes were darker again. “Set him up on a vid-screen, Si. I want to know in particular which locations have increased their security measures in the past five years. Highest to lowest. You can do that?” He directed that last question to Jared.

  “Yeah. Yeah,” Jared cleared his throat, “I can do that. Easy.”

  Trent stared at him for a moment longer. A moment longer than necessary, making Tan scowl and me to flick a glance between Jared and Trent trying to see what had Trent so on edge. But in the next instant he’d spun back around to look at me again, and all my focus was on holding that deep blue gaze and not showing how affected I was.

  “You won’t be going in alone,” he said. A concession that came from out of nowhere.

  I nodded my head, accepting his directive.

  “The plan will be to hijack a food delivery truck, with a change of shift cafeteria crew on-board, and replace their men with ours. Then we’ll all be there to back Lena up, if necessary.”

  A small smile spread my lips. Trent watched my mouth for a second and then shook his head; agitation, amusement, fear. So expressive, when only days ago I was sure Trent didn’t show much emotion at all.

  Tan made a move to leave the room right then, pulling my eyes and my mind from Trent. I was in front of him before he’d made the doorway. Moving swiftly and silently like a cat. He used to call me his Elite Shadow, not because I shadowed him and Aiko, but because I spent so much time imitating one; a movement you didn’t even see, your brain telling you it was nothing.

  “Lena,” he said. Not his usual moniker of Elite. I’d startled him. His guard had been down; very unlike Lee Tan. “I need the washroom,” he offered, expecting the model Honourable in me to step aside.

  “Cross your legs,” I offered, and tugged on his sleeve to haul him out of the room.

  A flick of my eyes let me know Trent was watching.

  And so was Wang Jie.

  I ignored them both and led Tan down the hallway to the storeroom, refusing to let go of his arm until we were enclosed inside. His eyes darted around the space, shelves stocked with food - which appeared to have taken a hammering, with all the new arrivals out in the communal room - and purposely avoiding settling on me.

  “Tan,” I said, forcing his attention my way.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “This is cosy. Do you bring Trent here?”

  I blinked. That had sounded suspiciously like jealousy. But Tan had been always been more brotherly than romantically interested in me. Still, a sibling could be jealous of someone stealing their sister’s attention, I supposed.

  “We need to talk,” I offered, ignoring the uncomfortable silence that had blossomed between us. “How did you…?”

  “Lena,” he interrupted softly. “Are you sure about storming the drone factory?”

  What? I was certain he’d back me on this.

  “We’ve got no choice,” I pointed out. “And it’s not as if I don’t understand the risks. I have just survived a runaway container ship full of Shiloh’s drones.”

  He smiled, for a moment making the old Tan come back; thin lips spread wide in a smile, hooked nose laying a slash down his face. The bright blue of his eyes counterpoint to the deeper caramel of his skin. I’d always enjoyed looking at Tan’s face.

  “That was impressive,’ he admitted, still smiling. “But the factory…” The smile fell.

  “I know.”

  “I worry about you,” he whispered. “Is he…?”

  “Is he what, Tan?” I pushed, not liking the direction of this conversation.

  “Is he taking care of you?”

  Tan had never shown any interest in my love life before. I’d dated Elite men, even had a liaison with a Citizen for a time. He’d not once interfered. Going so far as to purposely avoid anything to do with Wang Chao when Aiko had enquired about my childhood friend having such an unusual focus on me. I’d always thought Tan considered me asexual.

  I could have baulked at the intrusion. I could have called on Elite shock at being asked such a personal question. But this was Tan.

  “I think he loves me,” I said, the awe I felt at those words embarrassingly obvious in my tone.

  “Of course he does,” he replied, glancing away. His hands slipped into the pockets of his jeans, a move that would make you think he was nervous. But Lee Tan didn’t get nervous. “And do you love him?” he asked, eyeing a jar of pickles on a nearby shelf.

  That was a harder question to answer. Even Tan couldn’t draw the words from me before I’d said them aloud to someone else first.

  “He takes care of me,” I said instead. “He doesn’t want me to go to the factory either.”

  “None of us want to go to the factory,” he countered, attempting a lighter tone in an effort to inject some humour into the moment. “It’s going to be a disaster.”

  I frowned. “Why would you say that? It’s no more dangerous than any of the other monumentally difficult assaults we’ve attempted. And this time we’re only stealing information, not trying to assassinate the Chief Overseer.”

  His eyes slowly came back to my face. More emotion there than I’d ever seen in Tan before. I counted them. One. Two. Three. Maybe four. Concern. Pride. Angst. Love. But not Trent’s kind of love. This was all Tan. He did love me, not as much as he’d loved Aiko, but enough, I was sure, to know he’d always have my back.

  “You’ll come with us?”

  “I wouldn’t dare miss it, Elite.”

  We stood there, in between shelves of canned goods and bulk loads of toilet paper, and stared at each other. Things had changed in such a short amount of time.

  “My father,” I started and Tan sighed, his hand quickly running through his thick hair in an imitation of Trent at his most frustrated.

  “Your father,” he said, as though resigned.

  “Will you tell me?” I asked, after it was obvious he’d stalled.

  “It was a long time ago, Lena.”

  “And yet, in all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve not once mentioned it.”

  Those disconcerting blue eyes lifted to mine. “I was sworn to secrecy.”

  “By my father?” My voice cracked on the last word.

  Tan nodded.

  “Why?” Why would my father hide this connection from me? Ask Tan to hide it from me? Why would Tan agree? I needed to know.

  He turned away and paced the short distance to the closed door, then stopped, back still to me, shoulders rigid, face tipped up as he stared at the ceiling, as though looking for inspiration.

  “I met him twelve months before the Uprising,” he said, voice soft with memory. “He came to a bar in Wáikěiton and approached Aiko.”

  I took a step back as though I’d been punched in the stomach. Aiko would have been in a bar for one of two reasons. To get drunk and forget.

  Or to pick up her latest customer.

  “He specifically sought her out?” I asked, hating the way my voice sounded like a small child’s.

  “Yes,” Tan said, still not turning and looking me in the eyes.

  “What happened?” I demanded.

  “She accepted his offer after I’d cleared him in iRec.”

  Oh, good Lord. My father had gone there as himself and been iRec’d?

  “You knew he was an Overseer,” I accused. “So you let Aiko use him.” It’s how they worked. What I’d used them for in the past. Who they didn’t know, or who they didn’t have some dirt on, wasn’t worth knowing. They were a font of illicit information on Wánměi’s finest.

  I felt sick.

  “No,” Tan said, finally turning around to face me. “He didn’t iRec as Calvin Carstairs.”

  What?

  “He iRec’d as Michael Carr.”

  Michael Carr, my father’s alias. Like my alias. He was using it before he died. Why?

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice wretched, as though scraped over sharp edged rocks.

  “The usual,” Tan said, no emotion whatsoever in his tone. “And then he left.”

  I stared at him, shaking my head disbelievingly. “There’s more,” I pressed.

  “Yes.” A pause. “He’d iRec’d us too. Both of us.” I blinked. “And then a week later he came to our home.” Tan had kept his and Aiko’s home well guarded. It wasn’t on-grid.

  “You must have been alarmed,” I said, the words woefully inadequate.

  He let out a huff of breath in agreement. “Yes. But he was very quick to offer us what we needed most.”

  “Replica Serenity,” I guessed.

  He nodded. “At the time we didn’t have the connections. We didn’t get those connections until we met you. Finding replica doses was damn near impossible for the likes of us back then. Expensive and elusive. He dropped a year’s supply on our coffee table and said there’d be more if we agreed to his proposal.”

  Silence.

  Then I plucked up the courage, God knows from where, to ask, “And the proposal?”

  Tan held my gaze as he delivered the final blow. “Watch over you.”

  Oh. I’d never been a sister to them. I’d only ever been a customer and nothing more.

  I felt beyond sick. I felt scoured out and desolately hollow.

  Chapter 19

  I Just Hadn’t Noticed

  Trent

  Something was wrong with Lena. For the past day, since she’d hauled Tan out of the tech room, she’d not been herself.

  It was ripping me up inside.