Unfinished Read online

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  Quinn raced to the prep room after lessons the next day, the day after that, and the day after that. Each time he visited, Dr. Martine and the lab assistants praised him for helping stabilize Lexa. She'd even hugged him. It had hurt against his healing ribs, but he remembered the feeling of her arms around him long after he left her.

  On the fifth day, he hurried down the hall, a brand new chessboard clutched to his chest. It had taken a while to get this one, but he thought she might find the cartoon character pieces more fun than the more traditional kind. She was picking up the game fast, and Dr. Martine said she played by herself, memorizing the board, so she could reset their game before Quinn returned each day.

  She was remarkable-everything he'd hoped for. He found he couldn't wait to see her. And with two boards, she could play her own game and reserve the other for theirs. The anticipation of how she would receive the gift filled him with gladness. He'd never had the chance to surprise someone like this. It would be fun.

  He was a few steps from the door to the lab when he heard Miss Maren's raised voice.

  "She's flawed, Caldwell. Her vitals are erratic, and the only time she's compliant is when Quinn is here. We should start over now, before we've wasted too many resources."

  "My dear, you haven't given it enough time," Dr. Martine said. "And you wanted her to be keyed for Quinn, remember? It makes sense that she'd feel most comfortable around him. Let's give it two years-she may yet be useful. Besides, I need the research data for the 800s."

  "All I know is that my interaction with her was unsatisfactory. The program should be scrapped."

  Quinn's heart stuttered. Scrapped? Was she saying she wanted to kill Lexa? A surge of rage rushed through his body. They wouldn't kill her. She was his special friend. If they wanted to kill Lexa, it would be over his dead body-and a bunch of theirs.

  He leaned against the wall, terrified by his thoughts. When had he gotten so violent? Was this the jealousy his human psychology teacher had tried to teach him about? Or was it something bigger? Dr. Martine was saying something about funding and protocol, but the words were lost in the rush of blood between Quinn's ears. What would he do if Lexa was scrapped?

  His heart ached. The one person who was supposed to be like him, to be his partner in all things as they grew up, couldn't be scrapped.

  A pair of heels click-clacked toward the door, and he quietly ran down the hall, then turned to walk back just as Miss Maren left the lab, to make it look like he was just arriving. Quinn forced a smile as they passed one another and held up the chessboard.

  "Dr. Martine said the intellectual stimulation has been working, so I brought her another board."

  She cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. "Keep an eye on her. If she glitches or cycles out at any time, I expect you to report it to me immediately."

  Quinn clutched the chessboard back to his chest. "Yes, ma'am."

  She nodded and swept by, leaving him in a cloud of floral perfume. He trudged the rest of the way to the prep room, feeling heavy and uncertain. If Miss Maren questioned him about Lexa, he'd be forced to tell the truth or his shoulder twitch would give him away.

  He just had to hope Lexa didn't glitch-or if she did, that he wasn't there to see it so he could deny knowing anything.

  The prep room was quiet when he entered. Dr. Martine stood at his usual terminal, looking weary. The other two assistants cowered behind their screens, typing madly, as if work could make them invisible. He rolled his eyes. If they wanted lessons in becoming invisible, the first rule was to hold still.

  No one noticed him standing there. The second rule-being the least important person in the room. He cleared his throat. "Sir? I'm here for my visit?"

  Dr. Martine jumped. "Oh, I didn't see you there. Um, we need to delay your visit a few days, Quinn. I'm sorry about that, but Lexa's been somewhat unstable today."

  "Maybe I can calm her down," he said. "I could try."

  "Sorry. No one goes in or out for forty-eight hours," a cold voice said from the doorway.

  Quinn turned, and a nasty smirk spread across Piers's face. "The subject is to be isolated until her color protocol is complete. Ms. DeGaul's orders. No disruptions during a critical phase."

  Forty-eight hours? That was two days. But he knew Piers wanted an excuse to punish him. Better to continue showing the techs how to be invisible, even when talking to someone.

  "Yes, sir. Understood." He turned to Dr. Martine. "Will you message me when you'd like me to return?"

  Dr. Martine's eyes narrowed a fraction. Of course he saw through Quinn's sudden change of heart. "I will. She should be done processing in time for you to come back on Friday after your studies."

  Quinn nodded and walked slowly from the room like he didn't care one bit about the whole thing. Piers was blocking the hallway. He poked a finger into Quinn's chest. "Remember. Be a good little Bolt, or you'll see me again."

  Quinn said nothing. That seemed to satisfy Piers because he let him pass. Quinn kept his pace slow the entire way to his room, though his feet felt like they were made of lead and his heart felt made of fire. Two days. He set the new chessboard on his desk and his mood plummeted farther when he saw the blinking icon of a message. Doc Mendal had called. What would it be this time? Scaling a building without an anchor?

  He tapped the icon and Doc's face filled the feed screen on the second ring. "Boy, put on your climbing gear. Got a treat for you."

  Quinn groaned quietly. "Yes, sir. Um, my ribs are still a bit sore. Will that be an issue?"

  Doc grimaced. "Shouldn't be. Meet me downstairs by the front doors in ten minutes."