Resist
the outgoing teleport while I
replaced images of Jag with fantasies of Vi. That should have eased
the clenching in my gut, or at least brought a smile to my face.
But no. All it did was remind me of how dangerously close I was to
losing her.
    If the Resistance gave my
life purpose, then Vi gave it joy. We’d been best friends for
years, but at some point the friendship morphed into something I
couldn’t quite name. All I knew was that I loved her.
    More than the
Resistance?
    The question mocked me
inside my own head, but it rattled around in the tone of Director
Myers.
    Vi meant more to me than
the Resistance. Infinitely more.
    I hadn’t told Director
Myers that, but he’d figured out how incredibly close to my heart I
held Vi. She needed me in much the same way the Resistance did. And
while she was broken, I believed she’d find a way to fix herself.
Just like our society. It was broken, but I believed we’d find a
way to repair it.
    And so I’d volunteered for
this mission to Freedom. But I dreaded it as well. Because I might
run into Director Myers. He’d given me an ultimatum last week via
e-comm. Choose, Zenn. Jag or
Violet.
    I’d always choose
Vi.
    Always.
    But if I put Director
Myers off much longer, he could do something drastic. Like kill Vi.
He’d said as much in his latest message. You can’t play both sides on this one. And time’s not on your
side.
    The fact that he knew
Jag’s name and how deep I was involved with the Resistance scared
me. I could’ve been one of the prisoners taken; what I knew could
be extracted and I could be left for dead.
    The fact that he knew
about my infatuation with Vi brought a crippling terror to my
throat. Director Myers was not to be trifled with. He had the power
of the entire Association on his side, and I was inconsequential to
his end goal. As was Vi.
    “ Ready, son?” Dad’s voice
snapped me out of the place in my mind where I imagined Vi
bleeding, her life drifting away along with the beauty in her
eyes.
    I stepped into the
teleporter. As my particles shook and blazed into fire, the image
of Vi dying shifted to the murderous look I’d see on Jag’s face
if/when he found out I couldn’t help him anymore.
     
    I could hold my breath for
almost four minutes. I didn’t practice because I liked to push the
limit. I did it so I could travel to Freedom without passing out.
Two minutes, twelve seconds had become nothing over the years. I
could probably hold my breath that long in my sleep.
    But sleep was nearly a
thing of the past. I didn’t do much of that anymore, not since
joining the Resistance just before my thirteenth birthday. And I
gave up the habit altogether once Director Myers started hissing
threats over my comm.
    The last thing I needed
was him inspecting my dreams.
    His threats had started
coming in a couple of weeks ago. I’d been dodging Vi since then,
spending more time on my work with the Resistance.
    But the Resistance is a
poor replacement for Vi. The Resistance didn’t look at me with
those turquoise eyes and pouty smile. It didn’t breathe my name
next to the lake and send me illegal e-comms in the middle of earth
science class. I didn’t dream about kissing the
Resistance.
    I’d always choose
Vi.

    Because of the great
distance, my particles reorganized agonizingly slow. After a few
seconds, I could make out Blaze standing next to the wall of Rise
Eleven, typing something into it. A bright light flashed, but by
the time I could draw breath and take a step, it faded into
blackness.
    “ Stay here,” I said
quickly, shouldering the backpack he’d dropped.
    “ What?”
    “ You’re the Assistant
Director of Seaside. You’re not going.” I didn’t care what Jag
said/did. I didn’t care what Blaze said/did. This was my life on the line, and
I wasn’t going in there with someone who could compromise the
entire mission, no matter what assurances Jag had given
me.
    “ I’ll get the Insiders
myself,” I said, my voice creeping up in

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