Proxy (34 page)

Syd looked at Marie. “I just freaked out there a bit.”

“I understand.” She put her hand on his face, gently. She smiled sadly at him. He mattered to her too. It hurt her to let him do this, the pain was scrawled across her face, but she believed and such was the price of belief. It gave no discounts to friendship. Gordis let Syd’s arm go.

They ran. Guardians closed in and Knox knew his father would be among them, nearby, commanding the battle personally. He realized what they had done by coming here. They’d led his father right to the heart of the Rebooters’ operation. If they didn’t get back to the machine in time, the entire movement would be wiped out. Knox’s father had intended that all along. That’s why the drones hadn’t vaporized them from the sky as they crossed the desert. It had nothing to do with Knox’s safety. It had everything to do with his father’s work—destroying the resistance and protecting the system.

A combat robot rolled to the street in front of them. Gordis hit it with a pulse that knocked it over, but it fired off one fracturing blast as it fell. A rusted metal letter
U
from a factory sign exploded with sparks and crashed into the canopy above them. Gordis knocked Syd out of the way as the sign smashed onto the street. Knox, to his own surprise, tackled Marie. He landed on top of her against the pavement.

“Is that your gun in my side, or are you just happy to see me?” he joked.

“At a time like this?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Especially at a time like this,” Knox answered as he helped her up.

They kept running, but the sign had smashed one of Gordis’s legs. He couldn’t keep up. Another platoon of Guardians had come around a corner.

“Go,” Gordis told the others. “I’ll delay them. You’re going two hundred yards, third door on the right.”

They ran. Syd knew it was suicide for Gordis to stay behind, but it was suicide for Syd to keep going, so he didn’t even try to convince him otherwise.

They pounded on the door. “It’s me!” Syd shouted. “I’m here!”

The door opened and they ran inside. They heard the Guardians running after them. They didn’t need to look back to know that Gordis was already dead.

When the soldiers slammed it shut again, the echo made Knox flinch. Never had he heard a door slam so completely. The locks snapped shut.

“I’m ready,” Syd said, swallowing hard. He felt a sudden wave of exhaustion come over him. Strange how tired fear could make you feel. He’d imagined the end would make his adrenaline rush, that he’d shake or cry, but no. All he wanted was a nap. It seemed he’d get one. He wondered if the dead dreamed.

“Boychik.” Mr. Baram hugged Syd. Then he held him at arm’s length and looked at him. Behind Mr. Baram, the medical personnel in white suits readied the machine.

“There is no man living more proud of a son than I am of you.” Mr. Baram clenched his jaw. “You live up to the name you were given.”

Syd nodded. “Do I have a real one? One my parents gave me?”

“You haven’t guessed it?” said Mr. Baram.

“Yovel,” Syd answered, touching his birthmark one more time.

Mr. Baram nodded.

“I guess I like Syd better,” Syd told him. “I’ve grown used to it.”

“The names will forever be connected, Syd. You and the Jubilee will be honored in the same breath for generations to come.”

Syd shrugged. In death, his memory would belong to the living, but he didn’t die for them. This was no payment. The living would owe him nothing nor he them. He gave his life willingly. He gave it as a gift. His knees felt weak.

Mr. Baram steadied Syd and guided him forward toward the machine. Knox and Marie stayed at his side.

“How’s . . . uh . . .” Syd pointed. “How’s this work?”

“You just step inside,” Mr. Baram said. “Put the patches on and we’ll close the chamber. We’ll do the rest.”

Syd nodded. He took a deep breath.

“I promise it won’t hurt,” said Mr. Baram.

Syd stepped up to the door of the machine.

Outside, they heard an explosion. Then another. Shouts from above.

“They’re in the building,” one of the soldiers studying a holo announced.

“This is it,” said Mr. Baram.

Syd touched the metal of the machine, then opened the chamber door slowly.

Knox turned to Marie and locked his green eyes with the mournful gleam of her purple ones.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. She nodded. She understood. She too was sorry. For all of it.

But Knox had something else in mind.

He kicked Marie in the shin. When she bent with grunt, more from shock than pain, Knox snatched her weapon from her and raised it at Syd.

“No one move!” he shouted.

“Knox, no.” Marie stepped toward him, but he swung the weapon in her face.

“Knox, what are you doing?” Syd demanded. Knox swung the weapon frantically at anyone who moved. Throughout the building they heard explosions and shouts as the battle drew closer and closer. The Rebooters fought with all they had to slow down the Guardian advance, but it was inevitable. They were coming. The battle was lost. Only the virus could shut the Guardians down now, delete their program, sever their network, sever all the networks.

Knox stepped up beside Syd in front of the chamber and he pointed the weapon at his friend.

“I can’t let you go in there,” he whispered. “I can’t let you do this.”

“You have to,” said Syd.

“No. I don’t.” Knox tilted his head and with his free hand, brushed the hair from over his ear and showed Syd his brand-new birthmark, four letters, just like Syd’s:

“Yovel,” said Syd.

A smirk broke across Knox’s face.

The blood transfusion.

Knox had been infected with Syd’s blood.

“Knox, you can’t.” Syd shook his head. “It’s my father’s virus. It’s my destiny.”

Syd had spent sixteen years cultivating the virus. Knox had only had it a week. It wasn’t his to take.

Another explosion shook the building. The soldiers glanced nervously to the doors.

“No such thing as destiny,” Knox said. He lowered his weapon, leaned forward, and wrapped his arm around Syd’s waist, pulling his proxy against him and holding him tightly. He grabbed Syd’s face in his free hand.

Syd looked back into his eyes.

“I can’t let you do this,” Syd pleaded. “Not for me.”

“I have to,” said Knox. “For you.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Syd whispered.

Knox shook his head. “Someone has to. It’s my turn.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Like I know?” Knox shrugged. “It’s your future. Choose.”

The door above burst open. The Guardians streamed in and the soldiers around the machine opened fire with everything they had—EMD sticks and fracture cannons, antique guns and hand grenades. The Guardians returned fire just as brutally, ignoring one another as they fell.

“The Guardians are here,” Knox said. He grinned and then he pulled Syd’s face to him, pressing their lips together.

At first, Syd flinched, then he relaxed and let his hands fall to Knox’s side. The battle vanished around them, the violence, the debts owed and unredeemable, the world that was and the world that was to come, all disappeared for one instant as their lips held on to each other.

For the tiniest of moments, they were alone.

Knox let go of Syd’s face. “Just like our first kiss.”

“I—” Syd started.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. That was just something to remember me by.”

“Hold your fire!” They heard a shout, Knox’s father’s voice resounding across the factory. Knox released Syd and looked up to the walkway where his father stood, flanked by Guardians.

“He owes you a life,” Knox told Syd. “And so do I.” He let his weapon clatter to the floor, took one step backward into the chamber, and slammed the machine door shut, sealing himself in alone.

Marie rushed forward. “Someone stop him!” she shouted. “He’ll ruin everything!”

“No.” Syd pulled her back. “He won’t.”

He held Marie’s arms, let her weight fall into him.

Knox fumbled to attach the biopatches to his skin. He was enough of a hacker to know where to put them. He peeled off his shirt and attached two on one side of his rib cage, one on the other. The last went right behind his ear.

“Stop him!” Knox’s father yelled from above. “That’s my son!”

The technicians had already begun, their hands dancing in holos floating in front of them, waving and sliding just like the man leading the music in the holo back in Knox’s room. In his head, Knox imagined the music, the silent song sent out from his blood that would erase all the data and sever every network on the continent. He felt the urge to dance.

A strange tingling filled his body. Behind Syd and Marie, the soldiers continued to hold off the Guardians with steady fire. Some of them fell.

Knox’s father rushed down the stairs and broke through the ring of soldiers, sacrificing two more Guardians to shield himself. He lunged for the machine, but the soldier with the metal hand held him back with an unbreakable mechanical grasp. He reached out for Knox, screaming, tears running down from behind the dark glasses that now sat askew on his face.

All will be forgiven, Knox thought, watching him through the glass. Even you. Even me.

Right in front of Knox, Syd and Marie held hands and watched as he started to squirm. The charge in his body increased. His limbs tingled. Mr. Baram was right. He didn’t feel any pain. In fact, it felt kind of cool. Like one of the patches Cheyenne used to give him. He wondered what she was up to. And Simi. And Nine. Knox was about to change their world and they didn’t even know it.

The tingle under his skin grew bigger and bigger, like ants crawling all over him. He started to itch. The chamber felt hot. He tried to keep from squirming. He had an audience, after all. He wanted to look his best at the end.

Funny the things that go through your head, he thought.

Syd ignored the sound of Knox’s father screaming, the soldiers fighting, the Guardians beginning to stop, to disengage, to lose their program as the virus spread. He kept his eyes locked with Knox’s.

Some of the Guardians fell to the floor, vomiting, or they passed out. Others just sat down, dazed, caught somewhere between what they had been and what they were becoming.

Syd didn’t feel any different. Knox started laughing. As the machine hummed louder and louder, sparks began to fly all around Knox. The technicians shouted numbers back and forth to one another, celebrating their status reports, the success of their virus.

Syd’s virus.

Knox’s.

“Forty-two percent! Forty-nine percent! Fifty-four percent!”

Marie put her hand to the glass where Knox could see it. Syd placed his up too, so close their pinkies touched. Knox’s eyes locked on their hands and quivering, he raised his own. It only held a moment.

His body jolted. His skin reddened. It burned. There was pain. But there wasn’t only pain. He felt . . . something else.

As the radiation levels rose, the chamber glowed. Syd looked through the glow. His friend’s green eyes sparkled, bright as emeralds.

Knox kept them open for as long as he could. He saw his friends and his father, weeping, and behind his father, he saw his mother’s face, smiling, and she too raised her hand toward him.

He knew what was happening. He was out of time. He’d given it to Syd. He hoped his friend would make the most of it. He looked at his old proxy through the glass, glad they could see each other clearly now.

Syd and Marie looked so worried. Knox wanted to tell them it was all okay, it would all be okay.

He winked.

“Did he just—?” Marie wondered.

“Yeah,” said Syd, as Knox’s body vanished in the vaporizing heat of the machine. “He did.”