Third Transmission (37 page)

‘Father doesn't love me,' she says. Her voice wavers. ‘He . . .
sold
me.'

Six's relief is drowned out by his pity. He says, ‘I'm really sorry.'

‘I'm nothing to him,' Nai continues. Snot leaks down her lip.

Her sniffles echo across the deserted Square.

‘Move in with me,' Six says. ‘Or Kyntak. We'll be glad to have you.'

‘He doesn't love me,' Nai says again. ‘But he loves you.'

The gun is up before Six realises what's happening. The impact of the bullet is surprisingly light, like being poked in the chest with a single finger. He looks down, sees the circle of blood.

‘Now I'm all he's got,' Nai whispers.

Too surprised to fight back, Six staggers, falls, feet and hands already feeling cold, skin slicked with icy sweat.

He knows what this means. His heart has stopped beating.

Nai never misses.

The ground doesn't feel as hard as it should. Nothing feels how it should. I'm dying, he realises. And no-one knows I'm here. No-one will ever know what happened to me. Not Ace, not King, not Kyntak, not anyone.

Of all people, it's Sammy whose voice drifts through his mind now.

Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?

Six felt the cold spreading inwards from his extremities. Like when a limb goes to sleep, but all over his body, creeping inwards towards his brain. The pain is fading, slowly.

The idea is that there's an infinite number of universes, side by side, each slightly different so that everything that is possible exists in one of them.

Nai says something. Six can't hear what. Her voice is distant, unimportant, like the first few beeps of an alarm clock heard from across the barrier of sleep.

He thinks, maybe there are other universes out there. Maybe there's one where Nai isn't a murderer and I'm not dying and Ace and I are together.

Maybe not every universe is this screwed up.

Six can see Nai, vaguely, but it's like seeing her from under water. Tears stream down her cheeks. Her jaw is set, resolute. His sister, strong and tough and proud.

She doesn't need his pity. She aims the gun at his head.

I'm already dying, Six thinks. Can't she wait?

It seems like such a small death. No witnesses except his executioner. No lives at stake but his own. No mission to succeed or to fail.

How you die isn't as important as how you live
.

Who was it who said that? Six wonders. It's all so confusing. Everything is –

Nai pulls the trigger.

And it's over.