Remember Yesterday

27

The blades of the stealth copter whirl, emitting that low, almost soundless hum. The resulting wind blows in our faces, knocking around Olivia’s hair and making her look younger than she is. Someone I’d want to protect.

In a couple of minutes, Olivia will get in the copter. I haven’t seen her for the last ten years, and I may not see her for the next ten.

“I used to be so jealous of Callie and you,” she says. “Every day, she’d come to the T-minus eleven classroom to pick you up, and every day, she’d hold open her arms, and you’d fly right into them. I thought if I had a sister, maybe somebody would hug me, too.”

“Your mother didn’t hug you?” I ask, but I already know the answer. We’re talking about Chairwoman Dresden here. The icicle queen herself.

“We didn’t have that kind of relationship.”

What kind? The mother-daughter kind?

But of all people, I should know that blood doesn’t necessarily mean love. Being a mother doesn’t mean you won’t abandon your child when she has to run off to the wilderness.

I wrap my arms around Olivia, and her shoulder blades jab into my hands. “Take care of yourself, Olivia.”

“Come with me,” she says impulsively.

I laugh, but the sound dies in my throat. “Where? To your hideout? Or your mother’s house? I’m not sure either would be appropriate.”

Brayden and Tanner hop out of the cockpit and approach us. I haven’t seen Zed since he ran from Olivia’s room. I hope he’s with Laurel. I hope they’re able to find comfort in each other.

“Are you ready, Olivia?” Brayden asks. Everything about him appears sheepish, from the cap he holds against his chest to the freckles sprinkled across his face.

She nods, giving me one last searing look. A look that says so much—I just wish I could understand what. She climbs into the copter. Moments later, the sleek black machine rises into the air, as nimble as a bird. And then, it is gone.

The sky is streaked with color that is both intense and soft, like a tangerine smeared across a painter’s canvas. The sun glows near the horizon but has yet to make an appearance. So peaceful, so calm. Not at all indicative of the bloodcurdling violence that roils underneath. Even now, I can hear distant shouts. Close my eyes, and I can see the body of a frail little boy, marked by too many footprints, destroyed by too little thought.

I shiver, and Tanner puts his hand lightly, carefully on my shoulder. “We need to get off the compound. The rioters will be awake soon. They might be feeling more reasonable this morning, but I’m not betting my life on it.”

I nod. The grate that leads back to the metal pipe lies a dozen yards away, in the middle of the copter landing pad. I have on clean clothes now. They don’t fit—my pants are rolled twice at the waist; my shirt’s tied in a knot—but they’re clean. I’d hate to get them filthy again, but little Eli no longer has that choice, does he?

Little Eli would probably give anything to be crawling around in the muck.

I blink back tears. Even all-knowing, not-fazed-by-anything Tanner squares his shoulders. And we descend into the sewer once again.

Later, we emerge free, if not clean. The pipe empties into a river, and we wade from the exit toward the shore. I take my time, dunking my head under the water, scrubbing at my hair and face. The Harmony compound—and the rioters inside—are far away, separated by a sturdy wall. For the first time in the last twelve hours, I feel like I can breathe again.

Still, we crawl behind a bush, into a little clearing blocked by oversize tree trunks and shrubbery, and stretch on the ground. The air is warm; the hard, packed dirt is even warmer. If we’re going to be stuck outside, at least for the next few hours, at least the weather is nice.

My stomach sloshes around. The next few hours? How long do I have to wait before I go home, anyhow?

Tanner won’t be returning to the Harmony compound, that much is clear. But what about me? Has my association with him tainted me so badly I’ll never be able to go back?

Of course not. The mob will settle down. They won’t be as prone to violence. They’ll understand that I’m not to blame—that neither of us is responsible for the invention of future memory.

Even as I think the words, I remember a rock with a bloody rat pinned to it. I picture Eli’s body, at the bottom of an uncaring stampede.

I know, deep at the core of my being, that even if I go back, the compound will never be “home” again.

I turn toward Tanner, my cheek against the dirt. He’s already looking at me. Something in his expression makes me feel like he knows what I’m thinking—has always known what I’m thinking—even though he doesn’t have telepathy.

If only I could read him so clearly. His eyes are opaque, his expression closed. Sure, he told me about the torture from his childhood. But when it comes right down to it, how well do I really know him? I’m past holding his status as a scientist against him, but he has secrets he’s keeping from me. Information he’s learned by being one of Dresden’s underlings.

He wants my sister to wake up. That much is clear. Is that enough for me to trust him?

Olivia’s words float through my mind. Ask yourself why they have Callie.

I swallow hard. “Why has TechRA been keeping Callie alive?” My words are slow and halting, as I try to work it out in my head. “It can’t be cheap. They had to maintain her muscles, supply her body with oxygen and nutrients, when there’s very little hope of her ever coming back. Why would they do that?”

“You know why,” he says, his eyes fixed on my forehead. “They were desperate to discover future memory, and the link between the two of you was the best chance they had for an answer.”

He’s lying. After all this time, I’m finally able to pick up on his tells. That bored, eyes-glazed-over look I assumed meant he was too good for me? Really, it’s because he can’t—or won’t—meet my eyes.

“That’s not why. Up until I held her hand and sent her that memory, you thought the Sender-Receiver bond between us was severed. Come on, Tanner. Be straight with me.”

He sighs, and his features waver in and out of the sun’s rays, which are broken up by the jagged leaves. “You’re right. That’s the line I’ve been taught to say. Dresden swore all of us to secrecy, and if you know her at all, you know she can be quite convincing. But I’m sick of keeping secrets. Sick of being under Dresden’s control. You deserve to know about your sister, and I’m going to tell you. No matter what she does to me.”

My skin tingles; my breath catches. The energy in the air around us swirls, concentrating on this boy, this moment. I have the feeling I’m about to learn something big, something huge. Something that will push my world off its orbit, and life will never be the same again.

“Your sister has another ability,” he says slowly. “Her Receiver ability—the one she shared with you—was just her preliminary ability. She has a main one, as well.”

I blink. “What are you talking about? Most psychics develop their preliminary ability when they’re toddlers. Callie’s Receiver ability didn’t manifest until she was seventeen.”

“Because you weren’t around. Think about it. You’re the Sender; she’s the Receiver. One is useless without the other. You were supposed to have been born ten years earlier. Because you weren’t, she couldn’t become a Receiver until you became a Sender. Her preliminary ability laid dormant until it manifested in you.”

Cold air hits the back of my throat, and I realize my mouth is hanging open. Deliberately, I close it. “What’s her main ability, then? I never saw one. Neither did Mikey or Logan. At least, they never mentioned one to me.”

“She can manipulate memories.” His eyes fasten onto mine. “She can change parts of a memory so that it looks like something new. Take a red ribbon and turn it blue. Latch onto an image of her little sister and sculpt it into a man with crooked teeth and a mole on his chin.”

I frown. “How do you know this?”

“We didn’t, not until we had her in a coma and under our care. Over the past decade, we scientists have probed every part of her brain, excavated every bit of her memories. That’s when they saw what she was trying to do with her future memory. Instead of killing you, she was trying to change it so that she killed her future cheating husband.” He shrugs. “Who knows? If she’d had more time, maybe she would’ve succeeded.”

My brow creases further. “That wouldn’t have really worked, would it? Even if she changed the memory, that doesn’t mean she could change reality. I mean, who is this guy with the crooked teeth and the mole? Does he even exist?”

“No one knows. But Dresden’s convinced the only reason Callie was able to change her future is because she has this ability.”

“No.” I shake my head sharply, and the wet strands of my hair whip around my shoulders. “Callie changed the future because of her force of will—and inspired so many people because of it. Angela, Zed.” Me, I think but don’t say out loud. It’s because of Callie that I don’t have to resign myself to a future as Dresden’s assistant. “We know that we can shape our own futures. By her example.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. The research into this area is murky, but it’s what the chairwoman believes. And she wants the ability for herself.”

My head jerks back. “You mean she wants the ability to manipulate people’s memories?”

He nods.

I press my fingertips against my head as the full extent of his meaning sinks in. Of course she does. That’s why she’s so obsessed with manufacturing fake memories, even the innocuous kind. In a world where future memory exists, this ability would give Dresden unprecedented power. Power so staggering it takes my breath away. She could show people exactly what she wanted them to see. She could manipulate the entire world to her liking.

Even worse, in a future that executes Mediocres, she alone would get to decide who is exceptional. She alone would get to determine who lives—and who dies.

I look at Tanner. He doesn’t know about the vision of genocide. He doesn’t know what the woman for whom he’s been working is capable of. He merely thinks she’s a power-hungry leader—but it’s time he knows the true extent of her evilness.

It’s time I tell him. Everything.