“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Initiating blood scan for letumosis-carrying pathogens.” Cinder heard a motor start up inside the android, faint beeps announcing each step. The android’s light dimmed as its power source was diverted.
She held her breath until her control panel kicked in and forced her lungs to contract.
“ID,” said the android, holding the scanner out to her. A red light passed over her wrist and the scanner beeped. The android stashed it away in its hollow torso.
She wondered how long it would take for it to finish the scan and determine that she was a carrier, confirming that she was at fault. For everything.
The sound of treads approached along the path. Cinder turned her head as the two androids appeared with Peony atop their gurney. She was sitting up with her hands wrapped around her knees. Swollen eyes wildly darted around the junkyard as if searching for an escape. As if she’d stumbled into a nightmare.
But she didn’t try to run. No one ever put up a fight when being taken to the quarantines.
Their eyes met. Cinder opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried to plead forgiveness with her eyes.
The faintest of smiles touched Peony’s lips. She raised a hand and waved with only her fingers.
Cinder returned it, knowing it should be her.
She had already outlived fate once. She should be the one being carted away. She should be the one dying. It should be her.
It was about to be her.
She tried to speak, to tell Peony she would be right behind her. She wouldn’t be alone. But then the android beeped. “Scan complete. No letumosis-carrying pathogens detected. Subject is urged to stand fifty feet back from infected patient.”
Cinder blinked. Relief and dread both squirmed inside her.
She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t going to die.
She wasn’t going with Peony.
“We will alert you via comm when Linh Peony enters the subsequent stages of the disease. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Cinder wrapped her arms around herself and watched Peony lay down as she was carted away, curling up like a child on the gurney.
Chapter Six
CINDER SLINKED THROUGH THE BALMY NIGHT, THE SOUND of her boots shuffling across the concrete, as if both legs were made of steel. The empty night was a chorus of muted sounds in her head: the sandy crunching of Iko’s treads, the sputtering of street lamps above them, the constant hum of the magnetic superconductor beneath the street. With every step, the wrench inside Cinder’s calf clanked. It all dulled in comparison to the video replaying in her mind.
Her interface did that sometimes—recording moments of strong emotion and replaying them over and over. Like déjà vu or when the last words of a conversation linger in the air long after silence has settled in. Usually, she could make the memory stop before it drove her crazy, but tonight she didn’t have the energy.
The black splotch on Peony’s skin. Her scream. The med-droid’s syringe dragging Cinder’s blood from the flesh of her elbow. Peony, small and trembling on the gurney. Already dying.
She stopped, clutching her stomach as nausea roiled up. Iko paused a few paces ahead, shining her spotlight on Cinder’s scrunched face.
“Are you all right?”
The light darted down the length of Cinder’s body, and she was sure Iko was searching for bruise-like rings even though the med-droid had said she wasn’t infected.
Instead of answering, Cinder peeled off her gloves and shoved them into her back pocket. Her faintness passing, she leaned her shoulder against a street lamp and drank in the humid air. They’d made it home, almost. The Phoenix Tower apartments stood on the next corner, only the top floor catching the faint light from the crescent moon, the rest of the building cast in shadow. The windows were black but for a handful of lights and some bluish white glares from flickering netscreens. Cinder counted floors, finding the windows to the kitchen and Adri’s bedroom.
Though dim, a light was still on somewhere in the apartment. Adri wasn’t a night person, but perhaps she’d discovered that Peony was still out. Or perhaps Pearl was awake, working on a school project or comming friends late into the night.
It was probably better this way. She didn’t want to have to wake them.
“What am I going to tell them?”
Iko’s sensor was on the apartment building for a moment, then the ground, picking up the shuffled debris across the sidewalk.