When I get inside, I’m alarmed by the scene. I immediately see Raven sitting with her computer in her lap. There’s some of kind of device connected to it, and from there, several wires snake out toward the couch.
And as my eyes follow the lines, I take in a sharp breath when I see that they’re connected to Annalise. She’s lying there with wires inserted into the corner of her left eye through a clear tube. The same way we would get our impulse control therapies from Anton at the academy. The sight is … horrific. Traumatizing in its familiarity.
“What are you doing?” I demand, my voice cracking with fear.
Annalise is sedated and doesn’t answer. There’s a bandage wrapped around her elbow beneath her rolled-up sleeve. From behind the couch, Brynn looks at me and I can see that she’s worried, her hands clutched in front of her.
“She’s been like this for twenty minutes,” Brynn says nervously.
“Why didn’t you come get me outside?” Sydney responds, rushing past me to fall to her knees next to Annalise, grabbing her hand to hold it. “Is she okay?” Sydney asks Raven.
“Whatever you’re doing, stop,” I tell Raven, who hasn’t even acknowledged our arrival. She’s concentrating completely on whatever’s on her computer screen. But the minute I start toward her, she dramatically hits a button and looks up and smiles.
“Done,” she announces. She sets the computer aside and traces the wires with her fingers until she’s at Annalise’s eye. She pulls them from the clear tube and then delicately extracts the instrument. She grabs a cloth and wipes where tears have leaked from Annalise’s eye.
I pause over her shoulder, my heart pounding. “Why isn’t she awake?” I ask.
“Give it a second,” Raven says, studying Annalise’s face before reaching out to tenderly brush back her hair. The care in her movement catches me off guard. Sydney glances back over her shoulder at me.
And then, suddenly, Annalise’s eyelids flutter. She looks around at each of us, slow and deliberate.
“Well, this is familiar,” she says calmly. Sydney laughs herrelief and sits back on her heels, dropping Annalise’s hand.
Annalise groans, putting her palm to her head. Brynn rushes to her, giving Raven a wary look. It’s completely out of character for Brynn, and I wonder if she objected to this procedure and was ignored. And that is certainly not okay.
I move to block Raven out with my shoulder and focus on Annalise, helping her sit up.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“A little light-headed,” she responds. When she meets my eyes, she smiles. “Don’t be mad. It was for research.”
“I’m still mad,” I say, but her smile has relieved my tension a bit. Once she’s settled against the cushions, I grab a chair from the kitchen and set it next to the couch so I can talk with her.
“What exactly were you doing?” I ask. “That was—”
“I’m going to interrupt,” Raven says, picking up her laptop again. We all turn to her. “That was fucking amazing!” she adds.
Raven clicks a button and then turns her laptop around so we can see the screen.
“What am I looking at?” I ask. On the screen is a bunch of codes, but beyond that, they make a pattern, almost like a wave. Raven clicks another button, and suddenly, it’s moving. It’s pulsing and alive.
“This is Annalise,” Raven whispers like it’s the most thrilling secret she’s ever heard. “This is her programming.”
I watch the codes, not able to decipher any of it on my own. But something about how the patterns shift … I can’t explain it, but Idorecognize it. I know it really is Annalise.
But my next instinct is fear that she’s vulnerable, her entire existence now on someone’s laptop, then hurt that she didn’t think about how we’d survive if something happened to her.
“Why did you give her access?” I ask Annalise. “Why would you let her test her theories on you?”
“I’m not into being a lab rat,” Annalise says, rolling down the sleeve of her shirt. “But Raven made me an offer. I took her up on it.”
“What kind of offer?” I ask, turning to Raven.
“Downloads,” Raven replies. “A faster way to process information, skills. I told Annalise that with the right changes, she could become stronger.” She bites her lip, pulling it through her teeth. “You’re all a miracle. I never thought …” She shakes her head, growing emotional. “I never thought I’d get to see something so beautiful.”
I watch her. I’ll admit, I warm slightly. We’re used to being called beautiful, but it was always about our outside appearance. Is calling our programming beautiful the same? Or it is like complimenting our sense of humor? Our kindness?
“And now that I’ve seen the programming,” Raven says, “I can tailor some adjustments.” She reaches to take Annalise’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I can even install a diverter.”
