Willful Machines (16 page)

“Exactly. If Trumbull hadn't been there this morning, a device like this could've saved your life.” He lifted the watch from the box and held it out to me. “I'd like you to wear it at all times. It's a weapon of last resort and can be used only once. But if something like what happened today happens again, don't hesitate. Use it.”

The watch felt lighter than I'd expected. I didn't question why an important arms manufacturer would give a prototype of a bomb to his old headmaster. Among the many rumors about Stroud that batted around Inverness Prep, one was that he had a whole network of rich and powerful alumni who were every bit as devoted to him as Dad was. Stroud might have appeared to be nothing more than the head of a small New England boarding school, but in reality—at least according
to the stories—he was one of the most influential men on the planet.

“And be smart, Lee. No more stunts like you pulled tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” I strapped the watch to my wrist. It released soft ticks as the second hand made its halting way from Roman numeral to Roman numeral.

Stroud glanced at a clock on his desk. (Even now, he still didn't have a puck. If you wanted to reach him, you had to go through his secretary, Mrs. Case.) “Enough talk,” he said. “It's getting late, even for me.”

I slid to the edge of my chair. “Thank you, sir.”

He brushed my thanks away with a swipe of his hand. “Just don't mention the watch to anyone. Not even Trumbull or your father, all right? We'll keep it between us.”

I nodded.

“You probably think your father and Trumbull and I are being hard on you, but we just want to keep you safe. Keep you safe, and help you become a man.”

There it was again: that talk about becoming a man. Before I went out, my eyes flicked one last time to the bloodstained femur Stroud had dug out of my other grandfather's dead body. I half wondered if he hoped I'd do something similar one day to prove my manliness.

I
slept in the next morning, so I didn't see Bex at breakfast, but she bombarded me with messages during my first two classes:

David Chung says he saw you being marched up to Stroud's office at one o'clock in the morning! Is it true?

Did it have something to do with your date?

Are you in trouble?

Are you okay?

What happened last night?

Message me back NOW!

(In the midst of all that, one single message from Nico made my heart expand in my chest:
'Tis a fair morn, sweet lord.
)

I arrived at English and dropped into my usual desk behind Bex's. “What's going on?” she demanded. “Why haven't you answered any of my messages?”

“Because I knew I'd see you right now. Calm down, Bex. How come you're not wearing any makeup?”

She rolled her unshadowed eyes. “New school policy. I'm livid.”

I actually thought she looked better this way, without the raccoon mask, but of course I didn't say anything.

“Never mind that,” she said. “What happened last night? Did you meet up with Nico?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And?”

I gripped the sides of my desk and tried to think of a word that encapsulated our date but wasn't totally corny. I couldn't do it. “Amazing.”

“Really.” She said it in a weird voice, like she didn't quite believe me.

“Yes. Really.”

“What's that on your wrist?”

I pulled back the cuff of my blazer. “I got a new watch. Like it?”

“It's very retro,” she replied, her voice still odd.

“In a good way?”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“What's up with you today, Bex?”

“I heard a rumor you went to Stroud's office last night. I was worried, Lee. Is it true?”

“Yes. But it's no big deal. He wasn't really that mad.”

“Why was he mad at all?”

I waved my hand. “Look, I'll tell you later. He's here.”

Nico slid into the desk next to mine. My insides instantly felt like the core of one of Bex's Pop-Tarts fresh out of the toaster.

“Hi, Lee,” he said, with a tiny lift of the eyebrows that seemed to add,
You didn't freak out last night and vow to ignore me, did you?

“Hi, Nico.”

He nodded, pleased. “I like your new look, Bex.”

“This isn't a look,” she muttered. “This is just nothing.”

“You up for doing something tonight?” he asked, turning back to me. “This time
I
have something to show
you
.”

“Sounds like fun.”

I could feel Bex watching us like a hawk.

“How about you come to my room at nine thirty? You think you can swing that, with your security and all?”

Yesterday Trumbull had made it sound like my lockdown might end tonight—but that had been before he'd caught me sneaking out. I nodded anyway. “I'll make it work.”

I never got a chance to finish telling Bex about the date. We ate lunch with Nico again, and I noticed her giving him funny looks, like she had yesterday, and not saying much. After my last class of the day, she sent me a message:
Can you meet me in the library at five? I need to talk to you. Alone.
All her mysteriousness had started getting on my nerves, but if she had an issue with Nico, I knew she'd change her mind once she'd heard the full story about last night.

At the appointed time I made my way to our nook at the back of the mezzanine. Bex sat hugging her knees to her chest, her booted feet resting on her chair. Her puck was projecting something on the wall next to her, but I couldn't tell what at first. Then I spotted a loose gray cardigan. Above that, a familiar face—pale, with a long, thin nose and dark eyes. Charlotte. The sight of her made my fingers turn cold.

Bex jumped when she noticed me. She waved at her puck, and the image on the wall disappeared. “Sorry, Lee. I didn't hear you come up.”

“What were you watching that for?”

“They were just replaying old video on the news.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You're not still thinking of asking Dr. Singh for an interview again, are you?”

“Look, don't change the subject.”

“I didn't realize there
was
a subject.”

“Well, there is: you. I want to hear about what happened last night.”

I sat down across from her. “Just like I told you. It was amazing.”

“What about the part where you went to Stroud's office? Was that amazing too? You still haven't said why he wanted to see you.”

I shrugged. “I sort of sneaked out with Nico last night.”

“You
what
?” She sat up, her combat boots slamming against the wood floor.

“I had no choice. Trumbull wasn't going to let me leave my room. He had me on lockdown because of what happened with Nevermore.”

“And with good reason. You almost died yesterday.”

“That's a huge exaggeration. I appreciate the whole overprotective friend bit, but I've already been lectured by Trumbull
and
Stroud on this subject, so you can save your breath.”

“Where did you go?”

“The mine.”

She released an appalled groan.

“But Stroud and Trumbull don't know that part. They don't even know I was with Nico. We sneaked all the way up to the mine, and it was perfect. We talked, and we lit sparklers, and we threw them into the chasm, and we kissed, Bex. We kissed, and I didn't even freak out afterward. That's great, isn't it?”

“All right, yes, I'm happy for you.” She drew her knees back into her chest and picked at a hole in the black leggings she wore under her skirt.

“You know,” I said, “I've been looking forward to this all day: reliving my first date with my best friend, going over it moment by moment, hearing your witty, sometimes caustic, but ultimately good-hearted and supportive commentary. So far I'm finding the experience very unsatisfying. What's going on?”

All balled up in her chair like that, with no makeup on, she looked about ten years old. “After what happened yesterday,”
she murmured, still not looking at me, “and with another Charlotte attack coming, I just can't believe you went to the cavern all alone.”

“I was with Nico.”

“That's what I mean. All alone with Nico.”

“Okay.” I stood and leaned my hands on the table. “I've had enough of this. Tell me why you're being so weird about him.”

She dropped her forehead on her knees. Her back rose and fell as she took a deep breath. Peeking up at me, she said, “Do you promise not to freak out?”

I sat back down and tried to look less freak-out-prone. “Just tell me.”

“I've been thinking, Lee. Doesn't it seem like a strange coincidence that your robot attacked you twelve hours after we used it to spy on Nico?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“Hear me out on this. We crashed Nevermore into his window. He heard the noise. He looked outside.”

“Right. But he didn't see her.”

“What if he just pretended he didn't? And then we left the robot out there all night long. What if he went outside, reprogrammed it, and put it back for you to find?”

I gripped my chair's armrests, bracing myself. “And why would he do something like that?”

“To scare you. That's what terrorists do, right?”

“Whoa.” I glanced at Trumbull, but he was twenty feet
away talking on his puck. I dropped my voice to a whisper anyway. “You're calling Nico a terrorist? Do you hear what you're saying, Bex?”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

“You think he's working with Charlotte, is that it?”

“Maybe. There's evidence that she had humans helping her with her other attacks. You said it yourself: What do we really know about this guy? Wasn't that why you had Nevermore go snooping around his window? ‘Maybe he's a Chilean spy.' Remember?”

“I was ninety-two percent kidding. I just wanted to establish he wasn't a creep. And I thought we did that.”

I closed my eyes and scraped my fingers over my scalp. In my mind, I saw Nico the way he'd looked in the cavern last night, the sparkler in his hand washing his face in a flickering glow and lighting up the threads of gold in his eyes.

Still struggling to keep my voice down, I said, “Why are you doing this to me, Bex? I finally meet somebody I like, and who likes me, and we just had the most incredible time together, and we're supposed to hang out again tonight, and then you have to be Ms. Wannabe Investigative Journalist and spout your insane conspiracy theories and mess it all up.”

“Lee, slow down—”

“Because I'm sure it's just so hard to imagine someone like him genuinely wanting to hang out with someone like me. Nico being a terrorist—that's a much more likely scenario.”

“Of course I don't—”

I stabbed my index finger at her. “If you'll recall, you were the one who wanted me to ask him out in the first place.”

“And I'm so glad you did. Look, I'm not saying he's definitely a terrorist. I'm just saying it's possible. I'm just saying the thought entered my head.”

“Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better.”

“You have to admit, the timing's suspicious. He just shows up out of nowhere on the very same day your dad announces his amendment and Charlotte announces her next attack—which is supposed to happen
tomorrow
, by the way. As the First Son, you're a possible target. It's not that I don't want you to hang out with Nico again tonight.”

“But I should spend the whole time feeling paranoid and not enjoying myself.”

“No!” she wailed. “Please, just listen—”

“
You
listen, Bex. What happened with Nevermore yesterday was a freak accident, not a terrorist attack. And Nico had nothing to do with it. If he's on a mission to kill me, he had the perfect chance last night. He could've pushed me into that chasm any time he wanted.”

“Yes, that's a good point, but—”

“Stop, Bex. Maybe you just don't want me to have a boyfriend. You're always ragging on me for staying in the closet, but when it comes down to it, maybe you actually prefer me there. Maybe you think if I get a boyfriend, I won't hang out
with you anymore.” My chair screeched over the wood floor as I pushed back from the table. “And maybe you're right.”

I stormed out of the library and all the way back to my room. Before I went in, I turned to Trumbull.

“By the way,” I said, still riding a wave of adrenaline, “I'm hanging out with my friend Nico tonight.”

“About that—”

“I'm not asking, Trumbull. I'm telling.”

“I understand, sir. But it's all right. I just spoke with Dr. Singh. She said she's found no evidence of unusual activity in the local network log. As far as she can tell, what happened yesterday was a freak malfunction, just like you said. I consulted with the head office, and we've decided to move you to partial lockdown until the end of the week, when we hope this whole Charlotte situation will have calmed down a bit.”