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“It’s too late for redemption, and I don’t have anyone to redeem myself to,” he says, and then he turns back to the loom and, with the confidence of a well-practiced Spinster, plucks a single thread. It pulls out slowly and over us Jax is frozen in place, disappearing limb by limb, slowly being wiped from existence.
“Stop!” Dante yells, but it’s too late.
I don’t know how to feel. One moment Jax was there, racing through a corridor, about to escape. And then he was gone.
That’s the evil of this system. It’s insidious how easy it is to remove someone without their feeling a thing. Even watching it happen is unreal, as though Jax could pop back on the screen. But I know enough about this world to know that’s not going to happen. The proof that Jax is gone rests in Cormac’s hands.
“There was a time when this strand would be sent off for alterations,” Cormac says.
“To make Remnants,” I say. “Giving up your war on Earth?”
“Oh, no. We’ve developed much more effective ways to rid ourselves of the vermin on Earth.”
My words are strangled. “Which means?”
“I’m sure you saw them in the Eastern Sector.”
The moths. The citizens of the Eastern Sector rotting before our eyes, their strands being eaten slowly. “You didn’t need to sever the sector,” I accuse. “You wanted to test your bugs.”
“And they worked as beautifully as we imagined they would.”
“But then…” My words are lost to my thoughts.
“We were watching you the whole time?” he asks. “Of course.”
“You severed the sector though,” Dante says.
“Exactly. I severed it. I didn’t destroy it. The sector still exists.”
Dante and I exchange a look and I know we’re both feeling the same thing. How stupid could we have been? This means he knows everything we’ve planned. He knew about Loricel and Albert. He knew about …
“How much did you see?” I ask. My voice is strangled.
“I saw everything,” he says with emphasis. “So much for purity standards, eh?”
My chest constricts knowing that my time with Erik was on display for Cormac. It makes me feel hot and sick and angry at the same time.
“You son of a—”
“Be a lady,” he says.
“Oh, I am well past being a lady.” I spit the words at him.
A blur knocks past me, causing the world around me to spin. Before I can determine what happened, Cormac crashes to the ground. My eyes flash to the empty chair next to me and I see that the rope has been torn in two. The whole time we’ve been here Dante was slowly altering the rope with his fingers. It hadn’t even occurred to me to try because I’d been distracted by my conversation with Cormac. That explains why Dante had been silent most of the time.
The room splits and light bursts across the space as Cormac and Dante tear at each other.
I tug at my own bindings, feeling their composition and pulling them apart. There’s no point in trying to do it quietly. Dante clearly claimed the element of surprise.
By the time I stand up it’s hard to tell what to do. Dante and Cormac are rolling on the ground and by now each of them is bleeding from superficial tears. Neither has managed to get a strong enough grip to i
ncapacitate the other. But I’m pretty sure trying to grab either of them will end poorly. Each second there’s more blood, and I know that most of it is Dante’s, because he has to work extra hard against Cormac’s reinforced suit.
I head to the loom and trail my fingers along it, adjusting its scope to try to find this room on it. It’s the only hope I have of helping Dante. If I can find the room, I can rip Cormac’s thread. The loom shifts and pulls up one room after another, but I can’t find this one.
I turn back to the pair grappling on the floor and consider lunging at Cormac just as Dante manages to pin him to the ground. I rush toward them, hoping I can help. Dante must not unwind Cormac—we need him to say the pass code before we can fully initiate Protocol Three. But Dante reaches for Cormac’s chest anyway.
“Don’t!” I cry. Dante’s eyes flash to mine and it’s only then that I realize what I’ve done.
