Out of Nowhere Read online

  “You two missed a charming anecdote,” Laila said to Kit and Emil. “I’m gonna collect so much blackmail material. Tell me some weird secrets for future use, Caleb.”

  Emil put a stop to that with a hand gesture. He said to Caleb, “You saw Lange. How was he?”

  “He’s in a prison cell,” Caleb said. “It’s located where his lab is located in this facility. He seemed disturbed. I don’t think he knew I was there. He was naked, wailing like he was in pain. I think they’d provided him with clothes, but he’d taken them off. And they were, uh, floating. Almost as if he was controlling them telekinetically.”

  Emil's eyes widened at that. “Is that something other runners can do?”

  “No,” Aidan said. “None I’ve ever met, at least.” And in founding the Runners’ Union, he’d met a lot.

  “So it’s something that happened to Lange while he was trapped in the Nowhere.”

  Emil's usual calm slipped for just a second as he spoke, but he regained it quickly. Non-runners often found the mere concept of the Nowhere distressing. Caleb had, when they were teenagers discovering it.

  “Or something that was done to him in that facility,” Aidan said, and if it came out icy, he couldn't be held responsible for that. Emil had been part of his rescue. There was no reason to take it out on him personally. But still.

  “Right,” Emil said, dismayed. “Do you think that’s likely?”

  Aidan chewed his lip in thought, a bad habit he’d never been able to break, like so many others. “No,” he said at last. “I think it was prolonged exposure to the Nowhere after he walked through the door. I can’t say why that strikes me as more likely. The people on the other side obviously have more advanced technology than us, since they can make runners.”

  “A good point,” Emil said. “I trust your intuition. If they could make telekinetics, they’d probably have a squad by now. We haven’t seen any evidence of that. They’re keeping Lange in custody because they want to study him, I’d bet.”

  “Ugh.”

  “We have to get him out. He’s our best shot at fixing the breach,” Emil said.

  “And he doesn’t deserve to be held in a cell,” Laila interrupted, her expression dark.

  “Yes, that too. Do you three want to weigh in on how we should do this?”

  Aidan hesitated. Emil had just said I trust your intuition and now was asking for his input. Emil seemed ready to accept him. Aidan wasn’t sure he returned the sentiment, but he had to seize this opportunity. That other reality had a serum that could restore his ability. It also had a man identical to Oswin Lewis Quint. Aidan could do a lot of damage, if he had access to those things.

  Laila held her hands up. “I’d go, but I can’t get into the Nowhere right now. Neither can Aidan. The only runners here are Kit and Lenny, and Lenny recently got shot, so really it’s just Kit.”

  Kit’s mouth pulled to the side. “You want me to go alone to rescue the guy who almost killed me? You don’t think he’ll resist being dragged into the Nowhere? Or try to kill me again?”

  “He didn’t look like he was in a state to try to kill anyone,” Caleb said. “But maybe the Nowhere will upset him, I don’t know.”

  “It's the only way to get him back here,” Emil said. He reached for Kit’s hand, and to Aidan’s surprise, Kit let him take it. “I wish I could send another runner with you.”

  “Caleb can do it,” Aidan said, which made Caleb’s brows jump. No wonder, since Aidan had been haranguing him for days about how foolish and dangerous taking a job with Quint Services had been. Now he was volunteering Caleb for further recklessness. Caleb was right to be surprised. But it was either sign Caleb up for one risk now, or let Quint loom over the rest of their lives.

  It was a small risk. A manageable risk. He’d get Caleb in, get himself what he needed to ruin Quint, get it done, and get out of Caleb’s life. Then they’d both be safe.

  Aidan met his gaze. “You can do it. I’ll teach you.”

  “Are you willing to do that? You don’t have to,” Emil said, directing all of his grave authority at Caleb.

  Caleb’s mouth was full, and he paused in crunching a slice of apple. “You really wanna teach me to run? How long will that take?”

  “You’ve already done it twice,” Aidan said, his gut twisting. He’d eaten hardly anything and still he had to slide the cutting board down the table. The sweet scent of the apples was making him sick. “And you’ve always been a quick study. Give us two days, we’ll be ready.”

  4

  Get in Trouble

  Caleb caught Emil as everyone left the kitchen. “Hey, uh.”

  Concern crossed Emil’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s not your job to go on dangerous missions.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Caleb said. Heat crept up his neck. Aidan and Laila had paused in the hallway, waiting for him. “I’ll find you in a second,” he told them, and addressed Emil again. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  Emil nodded and together they walked to the greenhouse. After days in the enclosed, lifeless spaces of the rest of Facility 17, the expanse of the greenhouse was exhilarating. The invisible vastness of space rose above them, sunlight spilling into through the UV-filtered windows and rousing green, earthy aromas from the long, rectangular garden beds.

  Unlike the rest of the team, Caleb hadn’t dreamed of going to space. He’d only come here to find Aidan. So far, his experience of space had confirmed his desire to go back down to the surface.

  Except here.

  The greenhouse was the only place on this awful grey asteroid worth seeing. In full sun, as they were now, the filtered light cast a red glow over everything, a match for the warmth of the air.

  Emil smiled at him, understanding. “I like it here too. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  Emil walked to a bunch of basil plants and began to pluck their budding flowers. Caleb stood opposite him, imitating his behavior.

  “I know we don’t know each other that well, and this is really personal, but… you’re gay, right?”

  “Bisexual,” Emil said gently. He moved down the bed and picked dead foliage off another plant. “But ask whatever you want. We might not have known each other long, but we’ve been through some things together.”

  “Oh. Um. Yeah. I guess I was just wondering how you knew.”

  “I knew because I developed a crush on a guy when I was a teenager,” Emil said. “He was older than me, and probably straight, and I was hopelessly awkward. But the symptoms were obvious enough that even at fourteen, I got it.”

  Shit. Caleb crushed a basil flower between his fingers and let it drop into the soil. “So it was obvious. You knew for sure.”

  “It’s not like that for everyone. And I know lots of bi people who took their time. I certainly got the societal message that it was normal and good for me to like women, which I do, and I think for a lot of bi guys, they stop there. No need to examine things.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said, because something in that sounded familiar. “And girls are just—I mean, they’re everywhere, and it’s so easy to get their attention, you don’t even have to try. They’re always offering themselves as dates or girlfriends or casual sex partners.”

  “You’re funny.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You weren’t joking?”

  “No,” Caleb said, surprised enough to turn toward Emil at last. “You know what I mean, right? You go to bars and they buy you drinks or pull you onto the dance floor and make you offers. Same thing at parties. You go to the grocery and women drop their phone numbers in your cart. You go out for coffee or to do your laundry or take a walk or get on the train and… there they are.”

  Emil was smiling with his lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. “I think your experience might be outside the norm.”

  “Women don’t do that to you?” Caleb would’ve thought Emil—Emil, with his smooth brown skin, tousled black hair, strong jaw and
incredible abs—turned down offers all the time. “But you’re…”

  Caleb gestured, then bit his lip, questioning how and why he was so sure that Emil was an exemplar of masculine beauty. It was the sort of thing he’d always known about men, but never thought much about. Everyone noticed that stuff. They had to. It was obvious.

  “Vain?” Emil finished with a smile. When Caleb opened his mouth to protest, Emil waved him off. “The team reminds me all the time, and I can’t say they’re wrong. I do spend a lot of time in the gym. And sure, I get hit on. More often by men, though.”

  “Oh. Um. Do you think that happens because they can tell?”

  “That I’m queer? Well, most of the instances were in gay bars, so yes, the men who hit on me knew they had a chance.”

  Caleb’s double had thought the same thing. They’d been in the hallway, not a gay bar. Caleb frowned.

  Emil came around so the table was no longer between them. He was very good at apportioning his attention: first a little bit of reassuring eye contact, then a little bit of poking at the plants so Caleb felt soothed instead of scrutinized.

  It should have been working, but it wasn’t. Maybe it was all the light in here making Caleb dizzy.

  “Caleb, does this have anything to do with your doppelgänger?”

  “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know,” Caleb said, unable to give voice to the real answer. He kissed me and I liked it. “I wasn’t ever expecting to have this conversation. But some things have happened lately that… I don’t know.”

  “He’s not you,” Emil said.

  “It’s hard to ignore what we have in common, though,” Caleb said. “This sounds totally irrational, but I’m worried that injection might be changing me.”

  “In other ways than giving you access to the Nowhere?” Emil didn’t manage to mask the skepticism in his tone.

  “You don’t think it’s possible?”

  “Who can say what’s possible anymore? I recently put a lot of alien matter in my body and crossed into a different reality,” Emil said. “But I don’t feel like a different person. Not straighter or gayer, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Having his unspoken question answered so plainly made Caleb blush. It was a silly idea, and he shouldn’t have said anything. Caleb’s double had kissed him before the injection. If Caleb had enjoyed that kiss, it was all him.

  “I don’t want you to think that I think there’s anything wrong with being gay, or bi, or anything, because I don’t,” Caleb said hurriedly. “Aidan has been my best friend my whole life and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him! Or you, or Chávez, or anyone else! I just—you understand why it might freak me out, to feel like some fundamental part of me was changed or is changing without my consent? And it’s not the sexuality thing, really, but more like… what else might it be changing? Will I still be myself when it’s done?”

  Emil put a hand on his shoulder. “You know everyone here has been undergoing various treatments, similar to the one you received, for months. And I think we’ve all maintained our sense of self.”

  The treatments at Facility 17 had only produced one successful test. Lenny had learned to access the Nowhere. The other team members, Emil included, hadn’t changed. Caleb had read the files. Emil had rescued Kit through a combination of wild risk-taking and luck, but his access to the Nowhere had been a one-time thing. He’d survived his walk through Lange’s door. He wasn’t a runner.

  Caleb couldn’t put all that into words. He was too distracted by the warm, heavy, male hand touching his shoulder. Why had he never noticed how he responded to men’s touch before? It had to be new. Otherwise he would have known. He wouldn’t have waited until he was twenty-six years old to have this revelation about himself.

  Emil dropped his hand.

  “Yeah,” Caleb said, trying to remember what they’d been talking about. “Thanks for this.”

  “Sure,” Emil said. “Any time. You don’t have to figure it out right away, you know. Or ever. You can just be you. Do what feels good.”

  Caleb thought about the forceful kiss his doppelgänger had given him, the hot sweep of his tongue and the scrape of stubble beyond his soft lips. He turned away. Whatever was on his face, he didn’t want Emil seeing it.

  While Caleb was talking to Emil, Aidan took his leave of Laila, slipping down the hall to Heath’s lab. He didn’t have any more evidence to record, but he guessed correctly that Dax might be working there now that the space was vacant. It wasn’t Heath’s notes spread out on the bench in front of them, but Lange’s. Heath’s notes were chillingly organized. Lange’s were inscrutable, at least to Aidan. Based on the furrow in Dax’s brow as they studied the minuscule handwriting tracking across one page, they weren’t having an easy time of it.

  Dax was standing at the lab bench, shifting their weight from foot to foot while they read, and they didn’t react to Aidan’s arrival.

  “Hey.”

  Dax ran a hand through their already-messy short red hair, turning their curls to frizz. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “I hear you’re an all-purpose genius,” Aidan said. “I need to get a message to someone on the surface, and I don’t want any record of it.”

  Aidan had taken meticulous care when he’d been sending out photos, using encryption and covering his tracks, but all that information had been destined for the public. Calling an emergency Runners’ Union meeting required even more rigor than usual.

  To their credit, Dax didn’t complain about being interrupted or ask any questions. They picked up a tablet and started tapping, while mumbling, “I’m a physicist. You just happened to get lucky that I know how to do this.”

  “Thanks.”

  “For the record, I’m helping because I know who you are and I like what you do,” Dax said. “Not because you called me a genius. Who are we contacting?”

  “I’ll give you the number, but you can’t keep any record of that, either.”

  The member he was contacting, Lisa Hendricks, was a surgeon in Chicago and undoubtedly had public information available, but Aidan provided her private number. Like many of the union’s members, no one in Lisa’s life knew she could access the Nowhere, and Aidan wouldn’t jeopardize that by contacting her publicly, even if his message was harmless.

  Such secrecy was only an option for people whose abilities had manifested privately in their adolescence. More often than not, young runners made involuntary jumps and got caught. It was hard to become a surgeon, or hold down any job, if the rest of the world was too suspicious to house or hire you.

  There was tension between members who lived openly as runners and those who didn’t, and Aidan never knew how to manage it. But he liked and trusted Lisa, and he could rely on her to spread the word to their decentralized membership and get someone to pick him up.

  “Actually, let’s send this to one more person,” Aidan said. It was always good to have backup. He provided Craig’s number from memory.

  He guarded the names and locations of his members with ferocity and entirely justified paranoia, never recording contact information digitally or on paper. It resided solely in his brain.

  When he’d woken up in the cell in Facility 17, he’d been sure Quint was after his mental address book. He’d thought Quint’s scientists were planning to starve him until he gave up his comrades. Then they’d brought in Laila, and his theory had fallen apart. Laila didn’t have a list in her head.

  Laila had been right. Quint had chosen them for their infamy. The public wouldn’t miss them if word of their deaths got out. Aidan knew that now.

  Dax had paused in their typing. “Okay. What’s the message?”

  “We’re meeting at the usual place at 3:17am. Send Facility 17’s coordinates for that time. Then say ‘the canary can’t breathe.’”

  Dax’s mouth quirked as they recorded that sentence, but they didn’t ask. Union members had come up with a few lines like that, encrypted warnings and requests. They’d giggled about it
while proposing codenames, but Aidan didn’t feel like laughing now.

  Dax sent the message and waited for confirmation, which came only a few minutes later. Aidan didn’t make small talk, and neither did Dax.

  “Thank you for this.”

  “Are you coming back?” Dax asked. “Or is this goodbye?”

  “It’s not goodbye. You won’t even know I was gone,” Aidan said. He had to come back here and train Caleb tomorrow so he could put the plan in motion. This meeting was the first step of many. “Neither will anyone else.”

  It wasn’t Lisa who came to get Aidan, but another runner, a stage actor named Anna. Funny enough, Aidan had met her because she and Caleb had dated. She’d been his favorite of Caleb’s rotating cast of girlfriends even before she’d joined the Union.

  Anna popped into Caleb’s room at 3:09am, eight minutes before the meeting time. Even in the darkness, her silver mini-dress shimmered. She was Canadian, of Ojibwe descent, but she’d been working in Inland New York for years. Aidan liked her—Caleb never seemed to take the end of any relationship too hard, maybe since women floated through his life like leaves in the wind, and Anna had been gentle with him—and if she wasn’t moderately well-known, they might have been friends. Instead Aidan stayed out of her way in the city, not wanting to endanger her career by association. They only saw each other at Union meetings.

  Aidan’s chosen career had robbed him of so much. Regular friendships. A home.

  The last real home he’d known had been with Caleb’s family, the second floor of an old brownstone on a quiet, tree-lined street. It was no good to dwell on it. There’d never be anything like that again.

  “Are you okay? What’s going on?” Anna asked, squinting to find him. Aidan, with his vision already adjusted, could make out the dark slashes of eyeliner highlighting the angle of her eyes and her cheekbones. Her heels clicked against the floor when she took a step forward. “Sorry, I came right from the cast party. Lisa made it sound urgent.”