Wildcard (Warcross #2)(45)

For a moment, I forget myself and wander from display to display, awed by the eerie beauty of it. I stop at a large timeline projected against the entirety of one wall. It shows the origins of the institute, old black-and-white photos progressing until the timeline ends on a modern-day image of the current building. Then everything shifts, the photos expanding so that they fill the wall, details printed over each image in white letters before scrolling to the next.

Headlines appear filled with praise for the institute—a center devoted to giving its clients cutting-edge technology, to conducting experiments decades ahead of their time, to the constant advancement of science.

The muffled sound of some distant sob cuts through my thoughts. I crouch against the wall on instinct, pushing myself deeper into the shadows. The cry has come from somewhere farther down one of the halls. Something about it seems familiar.

I wait. When I don’t hear anything else, I leave behind the main atrium and hurry down the hall closest to me.

It’s too dark in here to see the ceiling now, although the sound of my footsteps tells me how high the space is. Two thin purple neon lines highlight the edges of the floor. Several long minutes drag on, occasional sounds and voices ringing out. Somewhere ahead of me comes another muffled thud, then voices I don’t recognize.

The hall ends abruptly, leading into another enormous space—this time with several brightly lit rooms covered on all sides with thick glass walls.

Inside one room is Zero.

I frown. No, it’s not Zero—just something that looks like him, a black metal suit, tall and lean, its head and body completely encased in armor. A robot? Standing outside the glass room is Zero himself, deep in conversation with Taylor. She has several screens hovering in front of her, all of them only blank white, from my view. As Zero talks, she pushes her glasses up on her nose and types onto a screen in midair. Her shoulders look fragile in their hunched position.

Zero steps away from Taylor toward the glass. She nods at him. And, as I look on, he steps right through the glass wall and into the room with his armor.

I blink. He’s not here in person—he’s a virtual simulation. Then where is he?

Zero walks around the robot version of himself, inspecting it carefully. A loud beep sounds out from the glass room—and suddenly, the robot moves. Zero holds out his hand; the robot moves its limb in the exact same motion. Zero turns his head; the robot turns its head, too. Taylor pushes the door open and joins him in the room. She tosses a metal object at the robot, and Zero’s hand whips out. The robot does the exact same gesture, catching the object in a perfect grip.

I gape. Whatever this robot is for, it’s entirely hooked up to Zero’s mind, with a level of accuracy that frightens me.

The muffled sob I’d heard earlier now comes to me again. This time, I turn to see Jax emerge from the shadows of another hall at the other end of the space, shoving a figure forward until they’re both standing before the glass room. As Taylor and Zero step out, Jax forces the figure onto his knees.

In an instant, I forget all about the robot. I forget about Zero’s virtual self controlling the robot with his mind, and Taylor peering at her screens through her glasses. All that matters is the crouched, trembling figure, his skin washed white from the lights, his hair hanging in sweaty strings, his mouth gagged with a cloth.

Tremaine.

Jax’s words drift to me, her voice echoing in the space. “Found him messing with the security cams,” she says. “He tried making a run for the panic room when he realized I was on to him. Somehow, he knew the panic room’s system is off the main grid.”

Zero folds his hands behind his back and observes Tremaine’s bowed figure. “Sounds like someone has been studying the institute’s blueprints,” he replies.

“Sounds like someone was laying a path out for someone else,” Jax adds. “He’s not here alone.”

Tremaine shakes his head vigorously. His cheeks gleam wet under the light.

I can’t swallow. Any sound around me has now faded completely away behind the roar of blood in my ears, and the edges of my vision blur. No wonder Tremaine hadn’t responded to any of my messages tonight. He came here after all—and they’d known, maybe had even been waiting for him.

Taylor’s words rush back at me. And is that all you did tonight? I’m trying to warn you. I half expect her to step in and help him out, protect him from Jax and Zero. But she stays where she stands, screens still hovering around her.

They must have found out Tremaine was the one behind the hack into the institute’s files, that he had passed along the information—maybe even that he’d given it to me. How did they find out?

Through me. Maybe they were spying on our conversations; they’ve hacked into my accounts. Or they might have traced something Tremaine accidentally left behind.

Suddenly I feel a tidal wave of nausea—it’s the same feeling I have when I know danger is creeping forward, and all I want to do is push everyone else away from me so it can’t hook into any of them.

Tremaine has turned his face up to Zero now. Even in his terror, I can see the recognition registering on him—he’s never met Zero before, but he knows who he is. Jax leans down and removes Tremaine’s gag. Zero asks him something, but Tremaine’s lips don’t move to respond. All he does is stay silent. Jax’s shoulders shift as she sighs. Zero takes a step forward, but Jax shakes her head and holds a hand up.