The Ones We're Meant to Find(19)
Awkward. “That is my question.”
Actinium didn’t reply. Kasey was normally the one who discomfited people with her silences, but now she found herself in uncharted territory. “I looked you up,” she said, and could have smacked herself.
“And?”
And she’d found nothing. Without hacking, she was as limited as anyone else. “You’re a private person.” She had to stop stating the obvious around him. “So I won’t pry.” Even though she already had. “I just wanted to know…”
How long I didn’t know.
Actinium glanced down at his mug, concealing his gaze. “Years.”
She’d had no idea. Kasey brought the mug’s rim to her lips. The tea scalded like her shame. It was too nosy to ask how they’d met. Too nosy to ask anything about their relationship. What else, what else? She tugged at the collar of her school blazer—and it came to her.
“You’re not in school.” SILVERTONGUE chimed. “Either,” Kasey added to appease it.
“Not anymore,” said Actinium.
“When did you graduate?”
“I didn’t.” Wasn’t this going well. “I dropped out seven years ago,” Actinium added, saving Kasey from herself, “right before junior high.”
Info: acquired. He was somewhere between her age, sixteen, and Celia’s, eighteen. Kasey took a great gulp of tea—and choked when Actinium said, “You don’t need to force yourself.”
Then he nodded at her mug. “I was presumptuous,” he said, and for a moment, Kasey thought she heard a note of hesitancy.
“It’s fine. Drinkable.” She meant it as a compliment; it came out wrong, like everything else. She checked the time in the corner of her mind’s eye. Two more minutes. Glanced to the ceiling, where the Intraface was still suspended among the projected laser web. “Can you bring it down?”
“Last time you didn’t need my help,” said Actinium rather pointedly.
“I didn’t know who you were,” Kasey retorted. Still didn’t, apart from what she’d wrangled out. He worked at GRAPHYC, had a cat, and loved her sister, which frankly told her enough. At his core, he was someone she could trust. Someone a little reckless.
Someone ruled by his heart.
Actinium set his mug on the fuel-bar countertop. He walked to the stasis pod and climbed up the way he’d descended, flipping across the halfway point, landing on the ceiling, before looking down at her, gaze expectant.
Yup, definitely one of Celia’s boys. Sighing, Kasey placed her mug beside Actinium’s and wiped her hands on her blazer as she approached the stasis pod. The “rungs” were barely deep enough for her toes. She was so intent on not slipping that she didn’t prepare for the reversal of force. Her stomach seemed to flip upside down, because she was upside down, hanging on to the side of the pod for a split second before she fell—
—and landed. Upright. Miraculously.
Less miraculously, when Kasey grew aware of Actinium standing before her, steadying her by the upper arms. Their gazes met; she was surprised to see his as guarded as hers felt. Then he let go, stepped back, and Kasey focused on the most important thing: She was on the ceiling. Feet planted firm, blood still flowing to her soles, the same 9.8 m/s2 force that grounded all life on earth still grounding her … just elsewhere.
Awed, she sat on what was now the floor. Actinium joined her. The table automatically rose. The Intraface on it continued to reboot, its progress displayed on the screen. The space had felt too small before, but here, right now, Kasey was glad to have Actinium beside her so that she didn’t have to watch the completion percent go up alone.
98%
99%
100%
The beams of light retracted. The Intraface floated down. Kasey didn’t touch it. She waited for Actinium to insert it into the holograph projector.
Instead Actinium got to his feet. “I’ll go.”
Two words, quiet, but Kasey heard more.
I’ll go to give you space.
“No,” she blurted. Cleared her throat. “That won’t be necessary.” Looked away. “She would’ve wanted you here.”
Actinium remained standing.
“Sit down,” she ordered. He sat; she inserted the Intraface into the projector before she could second-guess herself. A vertical beam rose from the top of the machine, fanning open to form a gray screen.
WELCOME, CELIA
The wrongness of being inside Celia’s brain coiled like a snake around Kasey’s own. Then Actinium opened a report of Celia’s Intraface activity, and Kasey freed her mind.
Data. Facts. These were things she deserved to look at.
The data: Celia holo-ed 20.5 fewer hours per week than the average person. Her only apps were the standard downloads. The bulk of her Intraface storage was devoted to captured memories, tens of thousands of them, sorted by topic and date. A hundred thousand hours’ worth of footage. They’d be here for years if they reviewed them all, so when Actinium suggested six months, Kasey nodded. Six months before Celia’s disappearance it was.
She opened the appropriate folder, took a deep breath, and hit play.
It all came crashing in. Memory after memory after memory, the good the bad the damning. The first time they visited the sea together in person, and then—as Kasey learned reviewing the rest of the footage labeled SEA—all the other times Celia had returned by herself, at night, without Kasey knowing. Other secret nights spent at clubs. Sleepovers. Yoga and brunches with friends—so many friends; laughter and faces endless, people and places coming alive under the rays of Celia’s attention.