not me taking an entire year to edit this chapter, rip rip.
the more that you say, the less i know
part iii: anywhere else is hollow
He hasn't seen Shay in a week now.
David doesn't go into Diego proper that often, preferring to stay in the Smokies' camp on the outskirts of the city. It takes him another day to approach the city after Shay leaves, and when he arrives, he goes straight to the camp, not ready to talk to his mother yet.
Croy calls him an idiot when he finds out that David let Shay go. Ryde and Astrix don't say as much, but David can tell that they agree.
David spreads his hands. "She's different. When we were making our way here…something changed in her. I think she deserves to make her own choices."
Astrix gives him a look. "Where have we heard that one before?"
David doesn't argue with them, doesn't want to explain what made him change his mind — he's not sure he knows how to explain it, if he's being honest. What he went through with Shay, those strange several days together, they feel like a secret between the two of them. He felt the changes in Shay, the way she'd saved him, the way she'd looked at him. I don't hate you, she'd said, so unlike the girl who chased him down the river, fury in her eyes.
Admittedly, it feels less and less like the right decision as the days pass without any news. David supposes it's a good thing that he hasn't heard about another city's Special agent rampaging through Diego, but the silence makes him uneasy, too. What if she's escaped with Fausto, and all of her city's Specials are coming to burn the New Smoke down? It all feels uncomfortably familiar — his desire to believe in her, telling himself that she's different, that he knows her well enough to trust her. Maybe he hasn't learned his lesson after all.
He wakes early one morning and slips away from the camp while everyone else is still asleep. David just walks for a while, hands in his pockets, breathing in the warm air.
The only time he doesn't mind the city is when it's early like this, when all the bubbleheads are still sleeping off their drinks and parties. The sun is low in the sky, its shadows soft in the empty streets. Videos for pretty-head songs are still playing on the outdoor wallscreens, but their sound has been shut off so as not to disturb anyone. The images dance in silence, their neon colors reflecting and warping across the shiny buildings.
He can't picture Shay like this, eyes surged wide and limpid like the girls on the screens, even though he knows she must have been — even when he tries, he can't remember much about her as a pretty, in those few weeks she'd spent with them in the ruins. He'd only cared about Tally, harboring some fantasy about rebuilding the Smoke together and starting a rebellion from the Rusty Ruins, the two of them against every city on the continent. It feels so childish, now that he knows everything that it really takes to bring down these cities, how fragile the two of them really were.
And now Shay is gone, and he doesn't know if he'll ever get the chance to ask her.
Cities should be easy to navigate. Everything in them is planned and neatly divided, helpful maps installed at an information kiosk on nearly every corner. Of course, you need an interface ring for the map to read your location and guide you to wherever you want to go. It's impossible to simply find your way around, much less track someone down — there are no footprints in dirt or broken branches here; the city sterilizes everything with a ruthless efficiency.
Without a map, the only route he knows by heart is the one from the park to the city center. All the official buildings are clustered together here: hospital, city hall, warden center, university. A group of new-or-maybe-middle pretties (David still doesn't know the difference and doesn't care) are sitting on the university steps, talking in the morning sunshine.
Mom is in the hospital office that Diego has given her, as usual, sitting at her desk and tapping a report out on her tablet.
"I have to talk to you," David says. "Something's…"
He trails off when he sees the wallscreen behind her. There are two giant brain scans taking up the entire wall, each accompanied by a smaller picture: Fausto and Shay, staring blankly into the hospital's camera.
So…he's been worried about nothing, then. Shay has turned herself in and been cured, and she just…hasn't spoken to David since. It's the best outcome he could have hoped for, and yet, he feels disappointed.
"How long have you been studying them?" he asks, shaking his surprise away.
"Not too long," Mom says. "Fausto brought the girl — Shay — in earlier this week. Thankfully, she's been cooperative. It sounds like she was the leader of Cable's little project, actually, which is a huge relief." She sighs, pulling her hair out of its short ponytail and then retying it. "If she's on our side, we have a much better chance of spreading the cure in their city, without interference. Maybe…" She leans back, looking thoughtful. "Maybe she and Fausto would be willing to go public. Talk openly about their surgeries…"
She's going on about things like public outcry and critical mass. It's strange to hear his mother talk about Shay this way, like she's not just a Smokey or one of David's friends. Mom is talking about Shay like she talks about the Diego doctors or wardens — a tentative ally, an equal.
"I didn't realize she had known about the Smoke for so long," Mom is saying. She frowns at David. "You said she was friends with Tally, but she told me she met you nearly a year before Tally found out about the Smoke. Why didn't you ever tell me about her?"
David presses his lips together, letting his gaze drift to the brain scans on the wall. He only knows vaguely what the scans are showing — reaction to stimuli, physical modifications. They don't show how Shay can be selfish and naïve, impulsive and arrogant — but also that she is loyal and brave, that she never gives up on the people she cares about.
That, maybe, had been the part that scared him — that she wasn't perfect, that there was so much about her that he shouldn't want, and he'd liked her anyway. When he met Tally, it seemed so simple — it was like she had been made for him; she shared his opinions and worldview without question.
But that version of Tally wasn't real. There is no such person, someone who matches him perfectly, mirrored like a pretty face after surgery. There is no one who sees the world exactly as he does. There are only people who care enough to try to understand.
He could fool himself about Tally, but not Shay. Never Shay.
"Because," he says finally, "I liked her. And I was worried…that if I got too close to her…it would ruin the mission."
Mom raises an eyebrow, and David knows what she's thinking — that he had no such fears when it came to Tally, that he'd come close to ruining it anyway. He meets her eyes, not trying to hide. Shay has made mistakes, and so has Tally, and so has he. There is no point in wishing it had never happened anymore — it did, and all they can do is move forward, pick up as much of themselves as they can take with them.
David flies back to the Smokies' camp, relieved to get out of the city as the sun goes down. All the parties will be starting soon, revelers spilling out into the streets, drunk and careless.
He touches down into the clearing, greets the Smokey on watch, and then, for the second time today, stops short at the sight before him. Shay and Fausto are sitting around the fire with Astrix, Ryde, and Croy, the five of them talking and laughing like they're back in the ruins last year, planning to run away. The original Crims are reunited again, almost — there's still a gap in their circle, between Croy and Fausto, as if they're still waiting for Ho and Zane.
David is struck by how Shay and Fausto match: both dark-haired, tattooed, surged with that harsh Special beauty. Even their movements are similar — he watches them gesture as they talk, nodding and tilting their heads in sync. Fausto waves a hand and Shay sways out of his space, almost like they're dancing. The physical evidence of their connection needles at him.
Fausto is facing the path and sees David first. He says something to Shay, and she turns to look.
Their eyes meet, and at the sight of her face, David feels his heart give a hard thump against his ribcage, like it's been jolted out of sleep. She hasn't gotten any surgery, her features are as cruel and Special as ever — but whatever he's feeling, it isn't fear.
David joins them, but he doesn't bother speaking. He can't think of anything to say, too aware of Shay just across the circle from him. It doesn't matter, anyway: the Smokies, Shay, and Fausto are in rapt conversation with each other, explaining everything that's happened since they've seen each other. Astrix, Ryde, and Croy talk about their escape from Special Circumstances, how the New Smoke was formed; Shay and Fausto tell them about being pretty, about how Zane had reformed the Crims, how they had tried to think their way out of being bubbleheads. The story isn't unfamiliar to David, he'd heard all of this when Tally and Zane had tried to join them last winter. It has new dimensions, though, when Shay and Fausto tell it — like swimming in a river for the first time and seeing the sky refracted through the water.
Eventually, the others begin to make their excuses, standing up and slipping back inside their tents. Croy, Astrix, and Ryde all leave, but some instinct tells David to stay.
Fausto rests a hand on Shay's shoulder. "Are you coming?"
Shay looks across the fire and meets David's eyes for the first time tonight. "Later," she says quietly.
Fausto nods and gets on his board, leaving David and Shay alone together.
Shay moves to sit beside him. She leaves some space between them, holding her arms close to her body. For a long moment, they're both quiet, watching the fire flicker.
"Are you mad at me?" Shay finally asks.
Of all the things he had expected her to say, this is not it. It takes David a moment to process her words, then he says, "No, of course not. Are you mad at me?"
Shay shakes her head. "I haven't been for a while," she says. "It just all seems so small now, you know? Everything that's happened…it didn't even hit me until Fausto cured me." She gives him a hesitant smile. "I'm kind of surprised you didn't just knock me out and leave me in the city."
He doesn't smile back, not wanting to joke with her about this. "I wasn't going to leave you behind, Shay. I know I messed up before — I gave up on you — and Zane and Fausto — "
"And everyone who isn't Tally?" Shay says, her voice just a little dry.
"I was just…I wanted to prove that I hadn't been wrong about her. That it hadn't all been for nothing." He inhales, a deep, slow breath. "I didn't let myself think about anyone else. And I'm sorry for that."
Shay gives a quick, awkward shrug. "It doesn't matter anymore. And you know…maybe you were right. Tally is fighting…whatever's going on inside of our brains. She's always fought it more than the rest of us. I've — " She shudders. "I've done things she hasn't."
"The city was manipulating you," he says gently.
"Maybe," she says. "But Dr. Cable knew I could be manipulated. Because I was so angry. I wanted to get even so badly. I liked being Special, okay? I liked how people were afraid of me."
"That wasn't you, though. The Special surgery — "
"David," Shay says. "Stop trying to tell me how to feel."
He opens his mouth, ready to argue with her before her words sink in, but then they do. He shuts his mouth.
"I made my choices. And I'm sorry for them, too. For trying to take the Smoke down and stopping the Crims from running away." She looks at him, eyes meeting his. "And I'm sorry about your father. I never told you before."
He inhales a shaky breath. He still doesn't know how to talk about Dad — if he'll ever be able to. It's been nearly a year and it doesn't feel like the wound has healed at all, still raw and open. It doesn't hurt as long as he keeps moving, throwing himself into traveling the continent and spreading the cure — but as soon as he thinks about it, as soon as he stops and lets the memory in, it's as though he's hearing the news for the first time all over again.
"I never even said goodbye," he manages finally.
Shay makes a soft noise that he can't quite interpret, then she takes his hand in hers. Her pointed nails scratch lightly against his skin, but she is careful, folding her fingers around his with precise movements. The deliberation feels like a peace offering.
David squeezes her hand and she squeezes back. It feels like she's anchoring him, or maybe they're anchoring each other, and despite everything, he feels…safe. Enveloped in the darkness, in the warmth of the fire, he suddenly doesn't want to be anywhere else.
Slowly, he turns her hand over, exposing her wrist. Shay doesn't say anything, lets him draw a finger up her arm, tracing a raised, dark red scar from her wrist to her elbow.
"How often did you have to do it?" he asks.
"Twice a day, usually," she says. "Morning and night."
"It looks…like more than that," David says carefully.
Shay is silent for a long moment, staring into the fire. "Sometimes," she says, her voice flat and empty, like a handscreen's text-to-audio reader. "Sometimes…I did it just because I wanted to. Because I liked it."
He doesn't move, doesn't say anything. He lets the words come out of Shay however she wants to say them.
"Or — a part of me liked it, anyway. I just…I hated it, this thing the city had turned me into. I hated my face and my brain and I just wanted to…cut it all up. Ruin all their work. Cutting was like…it was like a release."
Words bubble up in him and then die, like the surface of his parents' tea after dropping in a sugar cube. Everything in him hurts for her, suddenly. She has been so fiercely alone in all of this, fighting in the only way she knows how, trying to be strong for the Cutters, just like he's had to be for the Smokies.
"I know it sounds crazy," Shay says, misunderstanding his silence. "Za — some of the Crims thought I was. That's how this all…that's how we all fell apart." She sighs. "They were probably right. I was losing my mind."
"I don't think so," David says. "I think you were trying to find it."
Shay looks at him, startled. Their eyes meet, David holding her gaze.
"I shouldn't have let them follow me," she says finally, looking away. "Tachs, Ho, Fausto…they trusted me. They broke off from the rest of the Crims for me. But I had no idea what I was doing."
Gently, David traces one of her sharp cheekbones with the tip of his finger, turns her face to his. "You were trying," he repeats. "And I think you're brave. And strong. And a little terrifying, to be honest."
When he leans in, Shay jumps at his movement and his kiss lands at the corner of her lips, where they're turning up into a smile. There's an undercurrent of laughter in her exhale, then she turns to kiss him back.
Their first kiss feels like it happened in another lifetime, that late summer evening in the Smoke. Shay isn't the same too-thin, too-soft city girl she was then — her arms are hard and muscled under his hands; she moves with a confidence that he doesn't remember her having, teeth grazing his lower lip and making him shudder.
And yet, for all her changes, kissing her somehow feels so familiar, so right — like seeing the mountains near the Smoke after crossing the plains in the middle of the continent, knowing that he's close to home.
He puts a hand on her waist, fingers slipping just under her shirt, and she has scars here too, rising from her hips and over her stomach. David runs his fingers over them, tentative in his exploration, but only because this is all so new. He's not afraid of what these scars mean, who Shay is now and what she's done.
His hand slides to her back, surprised to find smooth skin there, impossibly soft under his palm. Then it occurs to him that it's only because she probably couldn't reach to cut herself there. That heavy feeling strikes him again, deep in his chest, and he presses harder against her, trying — wanting — somehow to get closer, to break down the walls she's built around herself. She doesn't need to be brave for him — he isn't one of her Cutters, isn't a lost kid who needs her to guide him.
Shay's hand is in his hair, and she twists it almost painfully as he traces her spine. David can't help but let out a low moan, but he doesn't stop. I can take it, he wants to say. He wants all of it, everything she has, everything she is.
David's fingertip comes to a stop just below Shay's ribs, and she stiffens, pulling away. "David. I have to tell you something."
She turns away to stare into the fire, shadows playing over her face.
"Tally will be here soon," she says. "We split up on the way here, so she could stay with Zane. That's why I was alone when you saw me. But it's been a while. They'll be here in a few days."
Something shifts quietly inside David, but his heart doesn't leap, doesn't speed up at all.
"I don't…I mean, I want to see her again," he says. "There's still unfinished business between us. But this…this isn't about Tally anymore."
Shay doesn't look at him. "You think that now," she says, her voice low. "But when you see her again...maybe it will be. Just like before."
"I don't know," he says slowly. "Everything has changed so much. Tally and I…we don't know each other anymore. If we ever did," he adds. "The whole thing…sometimes it feels like it never happened. Like it was a dream."
"And I'm what?" Shay says dryly. "A nightmare?"
"No," David says quietly. "You're real, Shay."
Shay shakes her head, her lips pulling down at the corners. The sharpness of her features doesn't look cutting or cold anymore — she only looks frail, like the needle-thin spires of the city towers. Like there's not enough left of her to be soft. "Don't do this to me."
"Shay…"
"Come on. All that ego, and you haven't figured it out? You know I'm still in love with you." She laughs just a little. "I'm probably always going to be. No matter what they do to my brain, I always end up remembering you…and Tally…and I feel…I feel everything like it's the first time all over again." She shakes her head. "But it doesn't matter anymore."
"I'm not mad," she adds. "Really. But I think we both know how this is going to end, so let's just — not, okay?"
He wants to argue, but he can't, he can't think of anything to convince her that this time it will be different. He can only sit there, let Shay give his hand a squeeze before she drops it, standing up and walking away from him.
It takes three days for the world to catch fire.
Diego is unrecognizable like this, the sky an angry red from the lights of the helicopters, smoke filling the air. In a strange way, ever since their arrival months ago, this is the first time the city has seemed real to David. Wardens and minders are out in the streets, barking directions, no longer hiding behind the placid automated voices of their machines.
Maybe it was naive to think that it would never go this far. That the cities really were as fragile as they seemed, that they would cower in the face of their independent citizens. That they didn't still have the old Rusty ways hidden somewhere under their skin.
But even his wildest imaginings, he never thought the cities would retaliate like this. He didn't even know they had tech like this — the huge black helicopters approaching the city like a storm cloud, so much bigger than the choppers used by the rangers or Diego's wardens.
His parents had told him about the possibility, of course, just like they had trained him for the day that the Smoke would be discovered. But it never makes it any easier to believe when the day comes.
The Smokies are scattered across the city — Diego had offered them rooms, and some of them, especially the newest ones, had eagerly accepted. They'd returned to the comforts of the city as though they'd never left. David and the others have been trying to warn them, to gather them, but he has no idea where they all are, half of them aren't picking up their comms…
David swears. And he still has to find his mother, still at the hospital. It's selfish — he hasn't told Croy, Astrix, or Ryde his plan to go into the city center yet — but he just…can't bring himself to face the thought of losing Mom, too.
They crowd on the top of a building near the helicopter pad, trying to organize. A buzzing sound reaches his ears, and he turns to see several figures on hoverboards through the haze, landing on the roof and dismounting with fluid grace.
"Specials," Astrix breathes, but David holds a hand up, recognizing their movements.
"Shay!" he calls.
She turns to face him, and a smile breaks out across her face. Before he can move, she's racing over to him, running to him like they're in a wallscreen movie. Although in wallscreen movies, David thinks, the city usually isn't on fire in the background.
The girl also doesn't usually nearly knock the boy over, hitting him with such force that he stumbles back a few steps, but David doesn't care. She could tackle him to the ground and he would let her, as long as she is here and alive.
"What are you doing here?" she cries, pulling back to look at him. "They're evacuating everyone!"
"I know. We have to get the other Smokies out, and my mom — "
"Your mom's not leaving," Shay says. "I already saw her. She says she's done running. And…the way things are going…" She looks up at the burning sky. "They need doctors."
David shuts his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath. "I can't leave without her."
"You'll be in danger if you stay," Shay says softly. "All of you."
"We have to," he says. "Your city is here because of the New Smoke, because of the New System. This war is about us."
"No, it's not," Shay says.
That brings him up short. "What?"
"Me and Tally…when we left our city…" Shay looks over her shoulder, at the hundreds of choppers in the sky. "There's no time to explain. But we started this. It has nothing to do with you."
David almost laughs. He is starting to get the sense that despite everything — his family's mission, the dozens of kids he's stolen from the city — this hasn't really been about the Smoke for a long time. He might still be the Smokies' leader, but he isn't the one the city fears anymore. Whatever story is unfolding here, he isn't at the center of it anymore, and that — and that is okay.
"I still want to help," he says.
Shay presses her fingers against her eyes and David wonders if she's slept at all since he last saw her. "Thanks," she mutters. "But there's nothing you can do. It's Tally." She cracks a smile. "As usual."
One of the Cutters approaches, laying a hand on Shay's shoulder. "Where are we going, Boss?"
Shay sucks in a breath through her teeth. "I have to go after Tally. We were supposed to leave together — find Dr. Cable — but she left without me. Special-head. The rest of you should stay. Help Diego." Above them, a warden car swoops past, far too close, recklessly disregarding its security minders.
The other Cutter hesitates. David thinks it's Ho, but it's hard to tell in the dark, his face covered by swirling tattoos. "Boss…there aren't enough of us as it is."
Shay's face crumples. "I know," she says. "But I have to."
"I'll go after Tally," David says suddenly.
Shay's gaze snaps to him, but she doesn't look surprised. Her mouth twists. "Will you be able to find her?"
David shrugs. "She's going back to your city, isn't she? I have your skintenna frequency. Should be able to tune in and follow her." He pauses. "What were you planning to do when you found her?"
Shay laughs, a dry, exhausted sound. "No idea. Try to stop her from getting herself killed?"
"I'll do my best." He looks at Shay, her tired eyes, the wary way she holds herself. Impulsively, he reaches out to touch her face, rest his hand against her cheekbone.
"The older Smokies want to stay and fight," he says. "They'll help you, if you need them."
"Thank you," Shay says softly. She meets his eyes, her gaze serious. "I'll take care of them."
"I know." It never occurred to him that she wouldn't.
There is so much still left in between them, so much left unresolved —the world keeps falling apart before they can make sense of everything, and there is just not enough time, no place to apologize or explain.
So David acts, instead, urgency blotting out any confusion or hesitation. He kisses her hard, fiercely, trying to say everything that he can't put into words: that he is afraid for her, but he has faith in her, too. That he trusts her, simply and without question, and that is something rare and beautiful.
Shay kisses him back, her fingers digging into his arms, hard enough to bruise. David doesn't care. He hopes she does, hopes she marks him, gives him something he can take with him in the cold.
There is only one thing he has to say out loud. He pulls back just enough to whisper to her, "I'll come back."
Shay's face softens. "Go," she says.
He finds Tally in the ruins.
It's quiet on the outskirts of the city. He'd almost forgotten that it could be this way — the bright lights in the distance, the silence here in the tall skeletons of the Rusty buildings. It feels like a lifetime ago that this was his world.
Tally doesn't seem very happy to see him. That's all right. He doesn't know how he feels, seeing her again, either — if he is feeling anything at all. He looks at her and all he feels is a heavy thunk of something closing inside him, as if to say, Oh, well.
He thinks maybe he should apologize, but Tally speaks first. "What are you doing here?"
He shows her the device that Fausto helped them rig up. "Been tracking your skintenna signal. Shay wanted to come herself, but Diego needs her."
Tally hisses out a sound that's almost a laugh. "You and Shay, huh? Don't bother denying it," she adds before he can reply. "I could smell you all over her earlier."
"Does it matter?" David asks quietly, meeting her eyes. Do you still feel it — do we even know what it was? Was there ever anything between us, or were we both seeing what we wanted to? Would we do it again, after everything that's happened?
Tally turns away. "No. It doesn't," she says. "If you two are — whatever — together, or — whatever — then I don't…" She shrugs. "Shay deserves to be happy. Without me messing it up."
"None of this is your fault, Tally."
She whips around to glare at him. "You don't know anything about this. What I've been through. What they did to me — and to Zane — " Her voice chokes. "Look, all I want to do is end this war, and to do that, I have to see Dr. Cable. That's it. You can't help me."
David puts his hands up, placating. "Maybe I don't know everything you've gone through…but I do know what it's like to lose someone. And Shay told me about being Special, what it feels like. You're not alone, Tally. Don't pretend you are."
Tally snorts, but doesn't say anything else. When he passes her chopsticks to share the SpagBol from his cooker, she takes them without complaint. It is enough to make David hope that maybe everything isn't so irreparably broken.
Tally leaves the next morning to go stop the war, or save the world, or both. And David stays behind, in the ruins, following the city's newsfeeds, trying to figure out what's happening. They don't say anything about Tally, but after a while…they change. Less about their immediate triumph over Diego, more about diplomatic talks and restrategizing. And David knows, somehow, that Tally has done something insane again, has fallen into the middle of this war and blown it up, the way she always does.
As news about the war wanes, feeds from other cities begin to trickle through. One night, they show news from Diego: Shay and Fausto on a sofa, in some bland newsroom, talking about how their city started this war, turned them into weapons. The middle-pretty interviewer is shocked and horrified — but, David notices, that doesn't stop her from saying, "Can we get a closer look?" The camera zooms in on Shay's arms and lingers there.
Through it all, Shay's face is impassive. She does most of the talking, answering for Fausto, claiming responsibility for the Cutters' actions. For a moment, David considers going back to Diego, leaving without Tally. Maybe she's already left; abandoned him without a word. Not because she wanted to, but because it just kind of happened, and Tally can never seem to fight her circumstances. He cares about Tally, even after everything, but he's not sure he trusts her.
He decides not to give up on her just yet, and he spends his time in the ruins planning. Even if they win, this isn't over, not even close. The world is only just waking up.
Some of the Smokies won't stay, of course, they'll want to go back to their ordinary lives now that they don't have to hide anymore. But some of them, David thinks, care enough to keep going. Astrix — Croy — maybe Ryde.
Maybe the Cutters will want to come, too. They'd be useful, strong and fast, used to living in the wild — and half of them are former Smokies, anyway. He'll have to talk it over with Shay. The thought is strangely comforting, warming him in the cold ruins. He's not alone either, David knows.
When Tally sends up her signal and tells him her plan, David is ready. They leave early in the morning, the fog hanging low over the trees. It's cold and damp, but the icy air feels good in his lungs. His world is changing again, but this time, it feels right.
Shay is sitting on the rooftop of Diego's transmission tower. David sees her illuminated by the city lights, but she still sees him first. She has a bottle in her hand, and she lifts it in greeting.
"You came back."
"I told you I would." He shoves his hands in his pockets, turning back to look at the sky, as though someone might have followed him out here. "Thank you, by the way. For keeping the Smokies safe."
Shay's smile is wry. "I told you I would."
She regards him for a moment, then shifts slightly, a silent invitation. David accepts, crossing the roof to sit next to her, in the shadow of the tower's spire.
"We won, huh?" she asks.
"I guess."
Shay waves the bottle at him. "Want to celebrate?"
"No thanks." He hates alcohol; his only experience with the stuff is when some older Smokies had tried to grow grapes for wine. It had been awful and sour and not worth the months it had taken to grow and ferment.
They sit in silence for a while, then Shay says, "Thanks for bringing Tally back."
"I think she would have come back, anyway. Eventually."
"Mm. Maybe." Shay taps her nails against the bottle. "But maybe not. She's already planning on running again. She has this whole idea about going into the wild — "
"I know. She told me about it." David shrugs. "It's not a bad plan, but…it's kind of a lot for two people. We'd need help."
Shay nods slowly, taking a sip from the bottle. "From us?"
"Are you going to stay in Diego?" David asks, avoiding her question.
"Yeah, at least for a while. There's still cleanup to do, and they offered — I agreed — " She sucks in a breath. "They want to study us. Some people — like your mom — want to expose what Dr. Cable was doing. So we have to meet with the doctors every week, and we're going on the feeds to talk about what happened…"
"I saw you," David says quietly. "One night, on the feeds. You don't have to — give these cities any more of yourself, you know."
Shay sighs. "Yeah, I do."
She tips the bottle back to take another swig from it. Gently, David reaches over to take it from her hand. "Hey."
Shay crinkles her nose. "Thanks. I don't even know why I still drink." She flings herself backwards, hitting the wall of the tower with a solid thunk. "I can't even feel it anymore."
David leans back next to her, their arms touching. He takes her hand, tracing one of her scars, following its path where it wraps around her wrist. She's still unnaturally warm — they haven't surged away any of the changes to the rest of her body yet, he figures, just her brain.
"Did you drink a lot when you were a pretty?" he asks. "I saw the aftermath of a lot of parties when we snuck into the cities. Bottles everywhere."
Shay laughs softly, her body shaking next to his. "At first, yeah. It's what everyone does at a bash, and the bubbly is good at making you…not think about things. After a while, though, it just made me feel fuzzy. Now it's just — I don't know — habit."
"Lot of parties going on tonight. Every night, actually," he adds.
"Freedom is bubbly." Shay rolls her eyes. "We narrowly escaped the first war in three centuries, and people couldn't wait two weeks before another bash. Everyone on the feeds is acting like this is some kind of new trend. Like we didn't…like people didn't die."
David shakes his head. "That's why we have to stop them. The Rusties didn't mean to burn the world down, either. But they didn't think, they just kept pushing further and further because they thought it was progress. It's happening here already."
"Yeah. I know. I just…I can't just run," she says finally. "We have to make things right, first."
David feels something squeeze tight in his chest, because he knows — he'd known, from the second that Tally told him her plan, that Shay would say this. She isn't like Tally, not like this. Shay is loyal to the end, stays even when she probably shouldn't.
He wants her to come with them now, to leave Diego behind to sort itself out. He loves her because she won't.
Diego is spread out below them, the red lights of drones rebuilding the hospital and city hall, further away from the city center this time. Closer to the old downtown are the same colorful showers of sparklers being sent into the air. It could be any party, Diego could be any city, that David's snuck past while trying to recruit uglies. Didn't Dad used to say that the operation only strengthened what was already there? Maybe things won't change that much, after all.
Experimentally, David takes a sip from the bottle. It's not nearly as sour as the Smokies' wine — it's sweet and fizzy, the sharp liquor taste mostly disguised. He's not sure he likesit, but it's not as bad as he was expecting.
"They're not going anywhere, are they," he says slowly. "These cities."
"Probably not," Shay agrees. "We have to learn to live with them."
David turns to look at her and takes a slow, measured breath. "Yeah. I could."
Shay's eyebrows shoot up. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about…staying," he says, testing the word on his tongue. "Not forever, but…until things here are under control, anyway. We could work together — the Smokies and the Cutters."
"You hate cities," Shay says, confusion softening the icy drip of her Special voice.
"I don't like them, but — you said it. We have to learn to live with them. And…I think it's time to learn."
"David…"
"I used have all these ideas," he says quietly. "About what I wanted, about the way things were supposed to be. And I was wrong, about a lot of it. About the city. About you."
Shay's eyes widen. She leans forward to rest her chin on her knees, staring at him in the dark.
"I want to be with you, Shay," he says. "In the wild. Here. Wherever we go."
A smile tugs at Shay's lips. She looks shy, suddenly, something strange and sweet peeking through her cold features. "Are you going to get an interface ring?"
He groans. "No. I have limits. I'm not surging, either," he adds.
"Good," Shay says softly. "'Cause I like your face. Always have." There's fondness in her eyes when she looks at him, and David knows — she has never needed him to be anything other than what he is. And finally, he has figured it out. He doesn't need her to be anything else, either.
He leans in and so does she, a slow smile spreading across her face. And they meet in the middle, where they have always found each other.
