the Q-net, I can worm into their files and find out how many people are still there, what weapons they have, and how they’re traveling,” I offer.
“All right,” Radcliff says.
“Once she’s fully recovered,” Mom adds.
“Of course.” He turns to me. “I’m giving you a commendation for your quick thinking with the bomb. And for your role in making Operation Looter Attack a success.”
Suddenly uncomfortable, I squirm. It’s a wonderful gesture, but I don’t really think—
“Stop frowning,” Mom says. “You deserve it. Accept it with grace.”
Typical Mom. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Radcliff says. “Now the question is, which record do I list it in? Ara Yinhexi Lawrence’s or Lyra Tian Daniels’?”
Ah, good question. I don’t have to hide from Jarren, and the rest of the base knows I’m alive. No reason to be Ara Lawrence anymore. Yet…I can’t go back to being Lyra Daniels. She’s an entirely different person than I am now. We have a few things in common—like the best boyfriend in the Galaxy, great parents (shhh…don’t tell them I said that!), and a tendency to be in the middle of the trouble—but I’ve found my purpose and I’ve experienced so much since then. No, Lyra Daniels is gone.
“Ara Yinhexi Lawrence.” I shoot a glance at my parents. Will they be mad?
Both are smiling. And when they leave, I get another parent sandwich. Bonus. Niall is discharged late that afternoon.
“Don’t entangle with the Q-net for the next seven days,” Dr. Edwards says to Niall. “I’ll do another brain scan then and you can try again.”
“All right,” Niall says.
I’m curious, but refrain from asking Niall until we’re alone. As we’re walking back to security, a few scientists stop to thank us for saving everyone in the base. It’s nice and weird at the same time. They were all evacuated to Pit 21 before Jarren showed up. Many of them will be helping to guard the looters in Pit 1 and will be training to fight as well. It’s still another five hundred and eight-five days until the Protector Class ship arrives and Jarren’s cohorts will probably come after us. The scientists no longer have the luxury of doing research, but will be helping us to fight for our survival.
Once we reach Niall’s unit, I ask, “What’s with Dr. Edwards and the Q-net?”
“Oh. It’s a strange side effect of losing so much blood. It’s nothing serious,” he hurries to add. “It’s just I can’t entangle with the Q-net anymore.”
That’s not serious? Not by my definition. “How—”
“Dr. Edwards said it’s probably temporary. That my brain might need to heal some more. Or maybe the HoLFs damaged the sensors.” He shrugs. “I’m not too concerned. It’s not like I’m a super wormer or a navigator. I can still use the surface programs and a portable, all I basically use anyway.”
Niall continues to downplay it. He gives me a kiss before going in to take a shower. My thoughts, however, are racing and replaying that light show the Q-net displayed when I mentioned fixing Niall. It couldn’t have healed him. Right? That’s all kinds of scary. Which you’d think I’d be used to.
Except people have gone insane when they’re connected to the Q-net for more than twelve hours. And I’ve been connected since Jarren attacked over forty-eight hours ago. I haven’t disentangled. No, I just reach out when I need it and there it is. Like another part of my brain. I hurry to my room to sort it out.
Of course all I manage to do is freak out more. I access the Q-net and go to my perceptive cluster. Then I search for information on brain damage and miracle healing and entangling and the science behind the sensors we all have in our heads. Who designed them? Which leads me to the Q-net’s origins and the original inventors. And…ugh. Way too much information and none of it helpful. Then I try to figure out if anyone else in the Galaxy can do what I do with the Q-net. I can’t be that special. Can I?
YOU ARE, the Q-net says.
Have I gone a little bit more insane? It has extended its vocabulary past here and not here. But I’ve exhausted all my emotional energy, so I just go with it. What did I do? What happened to me?
NOTHING. I CHOSE YOU.
There’s so much wrong with that sentence—the Q-net referred to itself as I—but I hold off on my freak out. Instead I ask, Why me?
YOU SHINE.
A video feed of me in the pits plays. I’m