Unforgotten(91)

I’m surprised to hear myself ask the question. I shouldn’t be worried about Kaelen or where he is or whether or not he drowns out there. Without even trying, I somehow managed to accomplish my goal. I found Maxxer and at the same time was able to evade him. Plus, I have the locket. Which means everything is going to be okay. I can get the cure, transesse back to Zen, and, hopefully, this will all be over in a matter of hours.

But then why do I feel so awful?

Why do I feel so hollow?

I can’t possibly want him to be here. He would only cause complications. He would only get in my way. He was sent here to get the cure for Alixter—my enemy. And then most likely, he was planning to bring me back with him.

So why on earth would I care that he’s not here?

I don’t.

I won’t.

“Maxxer only trusts you,” the vaguely familiar man explains. “She won’t allow anyone else admittance on this vessel.”

I try to respond. But even a simple word like okay has trouble making it past my lips. It gets lodged somewhere in the middle, choking me.

I cough, expelling another few drops of seawater.

“Right this way,” the man says. He opens a door at the end of the domed-top room and we walk through it, down a dark corridor. When he leads me through the second doorway, at the end, I have to stop. A small gasp escapes my lips as I gaze upon the miraculous giant chamber that lies before me.

It’s two stories high with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out upon miles and miles of black ocean. An artificial fire roars in a clear cube-shaped fireplace in the center of the room. A curved sateen sofa sits atop plush white carpet, forming an S shape around a glass coffee table with a single white flower in a vase in the center. A winding spiral staircase coils up to a second-floor loft that overlooks the entire room.

On either side of the staircase stands a very large, very burly man. They are dressed in matching white uniforms from head to toe. I find their imposing placement odd, but I refrain from remarking on it.

“I can’t believe we’re underwater,” I say instead. To no one in particular.

But it’s a familiar woman’s voice that answers me. “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

I look up in the direction of the sound. Dr. Rylan Maxxer stands on the balcony of the loft gazing down at me. She looks exactly the same as I remember her. Silvery-gray hair cut bluntly across her forehead and along her shoulders. Black-rimmed glasses hugging her slender face. A short frame so slender it makes her look slightly emaciated.

I’m not sure why, but somehow I knew I would someday see her again. That the day we said goodbye was not the end.

But what I didn’t expect was the way I would feel when I did.

That unusual hotness starts to gurgle in my stomach. It bubbles up, stinging my chest. I suddenly feel furious. Outraged. Which is ridiculous because I clearly have no reason to be angry. Maxxer has only proved to be an asset.

She helped me when I needed it.

She answered all my questions about Diotech and transession and my past.

In fact, she brought me back to Zen.

And now she’s led me here.

Maxxer is an escapee. Just like me. She fled Diotech after she discovered how corrupt they had become. How immoral Alixter really was. We are the same in that way.

But that doesn’t stop me from feeling this strange, unfounded rage when I look upon her. It’s not powerful. Almost subtle. Like it’s brewing below the surface, heating behind my eyeballs, simmering in my chest.

I attempt to push the feeling away.

Maxxer descends the stairs, looking somewhat elegant despite her plain black pants and red sweater.

When she reaches the bottom, she walks toward me and takes my hands. “Sera,” she says with a bright, beaming smile. “Welcome to my command center. So nice of you to come.”

I have to laugh. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

She chuckles at my comment. “Sorry about all the theatrics. You see, I simply had to do it that way. I couldn’t risk you getting caught and your memories being scanned. This was the only way I knew how to get you safely to me. And to protect my location.”

“Actually,” I begin, “about that…”

She tilts her head and gives me a skeptical look. “What is it?”

“Diotech did scan my brain. And somehow they knew that you left me those memories.”

She nods. “I was afraid of that. They must have seen the imprint.”

“Imprint?”

“There are only a handful of computers capable of creating time-delayed recalls and I have one of them. Each one imprints the memory with a special code, like a brand, signifying which computer created it. That’s how they would have immediately known it was me who implanted them. But as long as they weren’t able to access them, we should be safe.”