Nate wondered if he misheard her reluctance. She’d been so eager—willing to kill. Why not willing to submit to the machine as well?
“Once the runners have this last shipment on hand, you’ll have plenty of time to rest and get your strength back. And Valerie will return to us in two days. I’ll build up our stock of Remedy.”
Unable to look away from what he knew would happen next, Nate sat up, holding on to the bunk for balance.
“Are we going to use up Remedy faster because of him?” Juniper asked, casting Nate a hateful look.
“We only need a fraction more. And you’ll have plenty of time off now that Nate’s here.” Agatha reached for the tube and the pronged tip.
Juniper turned her head and closed her eyes.
Nate wondered how the hierarchy worked—why Juniper was so submissive. It sickened him to consider that even among GEMs, some sought power at any cost. They should have been helping each other live. And thrive.
“If the violence moves closer to the shore,” Agatha said, “I’ll take you up for a walk. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“Yes,” Juniper whispered.
Pixel scampered down from the bunk above and hid behind him. At some point, she’d taken a stained towel and rolled it into the lumpy shape of a rag doll. “I don’t like the hurting,” she said.
Nate couldn’t help wondering aloud, despite Agatha’s threats. “I thought there’d be more of us down here. More GEMs.”
“There are more, but they’re in hiding. I cycle them in and out of use for their safety.” Agatha stroked Juniper’s forehead once before she pierced her hip with the prongs, her expression cool and steady as Juniper shoved her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry. “Were something to happen here, or to me, it would be too much of a risk to have all of our brothers and sisters in one place.”
“Why would people want to hurt us?” Pixel asked.
“These people are unpredictable. They’ll hurt us. Hurt each other. The Withers won’t settle until the gates open.”
There it was again.
The gates.
He wondered what Alden would say—what Fran would think about the gates opening again after decades spent locked away from the friends she’d known in the towers. He wondered if Sparks would find beautiful things and if Brick would look for honest work.
It pained him too much to think of Reed. The space where he’d held Reed in his heart was a ragged bruise of guilt, fear, and love.
Agatha held her metal tool to Juniper’s chest and listened, but she had her eyes on Nate. He resisted the strong urge to look away. “I can see your gears working, Nathan. What do the gates mean to you? Would you return to Gathos City if you could?”
“Everyone I knew is gone,” Nate said. “And I know better than to go back there.”
“Good,” she said.
“How do you know the gates will open?” Nate watched the diffuser in the still become a whizzing blur, pink with Juniper’s blood. He’d seen something like it once—sugar spun into a cloud. Sticky and good, the memory at odds with this dark place.
“The date’s been set for years. Since the beginning, really. Did you think they’d leave all this land to ruin forever?”
“We didn’t know. No one really knows.”
“Of course not.” Agatha’s breath huffed. “Knowledge is a powerful thing. There’s a reason the Withers has been left in the dark, cut off from the information grid.”
“Information grid?” Nate straightened, delighted by the notion of forbidden tech. “Like tickers?”
“Stop thinking on it. It’s no matter to you.”
“He can’t help it,” Juniper said, faint and woozy. “He’s a Tinkerer. It’s hiscalling.”
“A Tinkerer?” Agatha’s voice sharpened. “Funny, it seems like you would have mentioned that by now. What, with all this lovely tech at your disposal.”
A traitorous flush heated Nate’s cheeks. “It’s nothing compared to what you do. I don’t understand Gathos City tech.”
