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And now I don’t know what to say.
“He’s not the Pilot,” Indie tells me. “I know that now. ” She breathes out shakily. “Remember when I thought you were the Pilot?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Do you know who the Pilot really is?” Indie asks.
“Of course,” I say. “You do, too. ”
She catches her breath and for a moment I think she might be crying. When she speaks I hear the tears in her voice, but I can also tell she’s smiling again. “It is me,” she says.
“Yes,” I say. “Of course it is. ”
For a little while there is silence.
“I think you kissed me back,” she says.
“I did,” I say.
I’m not sorry anymore.
When Indie kissed me, I felt all her pain and longing and want. It cut me up to know how she felt and to know how much I loved her, too, but not in a way that could work. The way I feel about Indie is an understanding so painful and elemental that it would tear me apart.
The strange thing is that what she felt for me held her together.
I could do for her what Cassia does for me. I knew that and it’s why I kissed Indie back.
It feels as though I’m running with her—I see moments from her life. Water filling a boat in Sonoma as the Officials sink it before her. Her triumphant run down the river to the Rising that didn’t save her. Our kiss. A flight, a landing, a run, step after step after step, running when anyone else would go still—
Then nothing but black.
Or maybe it was red.
CHAPTER 37
XANDER
Oker,” Leyna says, “the sorters have made a new list for you. ”
“Another one?” Oker asks. “Put it over there. ” He gestures to one end of the long table.
In theory, Oker needs the lists from the sorters because their input is valuable. The sorters try to discover which factors are most likely to contribute to the immunity. Oker has to figure out what that means in the real world. If eating some kind of plant seems to be a factor, what component of the plant is it that’s important? How do you put that into a cure? In what concentration? The collaboration is supposed to save everyone time and increase the chances that we’ll find an effective cure quickly.
But Oker never seems inclined to drop what he’s doing and read through the list right away. I know how hard Cassia has been working on sifting through the information. It’s valuable. I clear my throat to say something but Leyna speaks first.
“You need to look at it,” Leyna tells him. “The sorters have been through all the data again with the latest information from the infirmary and from your own observations. They’ve modeled the likelihood that each of these ingredients could effectively treat the disease. ”
“Right,” Oker says. “You’ve said all this before. ” He starts for his office, holding his datapod.
“Oker,” Leyna says. “As the cure administrator, I need to insist that you look at this list. Or I will remove you from your duties. ”
“Ha,” Oker says. “There’s not another fully trained pharmic in this place. ”
“Your assistants are perfectly competent,” Leyna says.
Oker mutters something and comes over. He picks up the datapod. “They’re always sending lists,” he says. “What’s so urgent about this one?”
“We have another sorter now,” Leyna reminds him. “And you can be sure that those back in the Provinces are using sorters to help decide on the next cure. ”
“Of course that’s what they’re doing,” Oker says. “They used to be Society. They’re not capable of any originality of thought. They can’t act without numbers. ”
Leyna tries again. “The new sorter, Cassia—”
Oker waves his hand. “I don’t need to know about the sorters. I’ll go look at it now. ” He walks back to his office, taking the datapod and the list, and shuts the door hard behind him.
After only a few moments, I hear the door to Oker’s office open. I expect him to say something caustic about it being time for Leyna to leave, but instead he stands there as if frozen, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Camassia,” he says.
“It’s Cassia,” I begin, thinking that he’s trying to remember the names of the sorters for some reason, but then he cuts me off.
