False Hearts (False Hearts #1)(82)

I feel the edges of myself slipping away. I imagine my body disintegrating. My skin sloughs away, my veins lift from my muscles, spiraling out into infinity. My muscles unravel into thin tendrils. Just my bones are left, and even they begin to break down, scattering like snow. I’m now just my mind, my metal sternum, my mechanical heart.

As those start to leave me, light returns. It’s as if the stars have turned on again. There’s a moment where I hover. The pieces of me are scattered all around. I can bring them to me again, knit it all together and go back.

For a moment, I don’t know if I want to. Maybe I should let it all fade away.

I remember Tila. How she looked in that surgery room as she put her arms around me and fell asleep. The fear on her face as she clutched me in our apartment a few days ago, terrified and desperate. If I go into that darkness, I go alone.

I pull myself together and return to the real, cruel, painful world.

*

It’s bright.

I should hurt. A migraine aura should warble at the edges of my vision. My skin should be rubbed raw and bloody, my lungs charred, my muscles tender. It’s like a Synth non-hangover. Somewhere, down deep, your body knows you did something dangerous.

“It went well,” Kim says.

“It … was meant to be like that?” I ask, faint.

“What was it like?” Kim tilts her head in curiosity.

“Memories came out of nowhere and my senses went confused, and then it was all dark and quiet. I thought I’d died.”

Kim’s eyebrows rise at that. “Nope, all vital signs were fine. Your brainwaves did drop off at the end there, but not enough to alarm me.”

“The brain is weird,” I mutter.

Kim laughs. “You can say that again.”

“So how does it work?” I ask. I don’t feel any different. “Is it recording now?”

“No. It’s pretty easy. You can do it now. I’ve linked it to a certain place on your body. I stimulated a particular nerve cluster in your brain, and the code can read it. You press it three times, once a second or so, and it starts. Another three, and it stops. Makes it harder to accidentally interrupt if you’re bumped. Here.” She walks over to Nazarin. “I was tempted to wire it somewhere a little … private … to make this moment funnier. I didn’t. Aren’t you impressed with my restraint, my parakeet?”

“Very,” Nazarin says, deadpan. His skin is still a little gray. Kim takes Nazarin’s hand and makes him put his index finger to his throat and has him press once, twice, three times in the hollow between his clavicle. He looks exactly the same to me. No little red recording lights in his eyes or ears, not that I expected it.

“How do you feel?” Kim asks, peering at him, holding a hand to his forehead, checking his pulse.

“A bit weird. I have a headache, feel queasy. Does that pass?”

“Probably not, but if that’s all you’re feeling that’s a good sign. It’s taken, and your brain’s reacting as well as it can to the extra stimuli. Try not to record for more than five minutes at once. Otherwise side effects might worsen.”

He nods, his brow creasing.

“OK, so I’ll jabber a bit so you can see how this works when we play it back. Walk around the room and look at things a little.”

Nazarin does so, peering at the lab instruments. He looks at Kim and she does a little twirl, and then he comes and peers at me. I feel strangely vulnerable, knowing that soon I’ll see myself through his eyes.

“So, just do this to stop it?” He presses the hollow of his throat three times again.

“Yep, that’s all done.”

The crease between his brows eases. “I feel better now.”

“Good. Come on, let’s get out of the lab. Better wallscreen in the lounge.”

I’m not sad to leave that lab behind. I’m fairly sure it’s going to give me nightmares. We settle onto the sofas in the living room. I take my shoes off and tuck my feet up on the sofa, wrapping my arms around my legs. It’s a childish sort of body language, but I got into the habit after the surgery and it makes me feel more grounded, feeling something pressed against my chest. I’m so tired. I want to go to sleep for at least twelve hours.

Kim passes us glasses of water and we sip as she brings up her interface.

“It’ll still send even if we’re somewhere all signals are blocked?” I ask

“They won’t be completely blocked, of course. The Ratel can communicate with each other on their own frequency, but they’re well protected against any sort of outside tampering. I can use a subfrequency they won’t suspect. There might be a bit of a delay, but it should get through to me soon enough. I’ve had Sudice send to one of my secure drives just now. Nobody can get into it but me, so whatever you find will be safe.”

Perhaps too safe. I like Kim and I’ve had no reason to distrust her, but she suddenly has a lot of power over us. She could turn us in, pretend we forced her to neurohack us. She could take whatever we record and hold it to ransom, or delete it.

Nazarin sees my hesitation. He doesn’t say anything, but reaches over and takes my hand and squeezes it. Don’t worry, he seems to say. I wish I could feel as confident.

Kim must have noticed our exchange, but she chooses to ignore it. She logs into the drive and there it is. A little file of two minutes of Nazarin’s life. She opens it.