Watt didn’t say anything.
“Can you come by this week for a second interview?” Vivian went on impatiently.
“Second interview?”
“Of course. I would like to revisit your application, now that I know what you’re capable of,” she told him. “If you still want to attend MIT, that is.”
Watt felt as if the entire world had suddenly turned several shades brighter. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Vivian added. “It was risky, you know, sending over the code like that. I might have had you arrested.”
Watt felt a fist clench around his heart. He tried to imagine how Nadia would have answered if she were here. “I calculated the risks and decided it was worth it,” he said at last.
“Spoken like a true engineer.” Vivian sounded oddly close to laughter as she ended the ping. “I’m looking forward to seeing you this week, Mr. Bakradi.”
Watt could hardly think. Trust Nadia to find a way to do one last good deed on his behalf: to give herself up, in order to get him into MIT. Her grand finale, her swan song, her last good-bye.
Thank you, he thought fervently. I promise that I’ll make you proud.
Nadia didn’t answer.
Leda was watching him, a million questions in her eyes, and there were so many things that Watt was aching to tell her. But he couldn’t, not quite yet. He’d made a promise, and Watt intended to keep it.
“Was that MIT?” she asked, having clearly followed the gist of his conversation.
“Yeah. They want me to come interview again,” he said slowly.
“Watt! I’m so happy for you.” Leda paused, as if she had something else to tell him. She seemed oddly nervous. “Before anything else happens—I need to say something.”
Watt held his breath.
“I love you,” she told him.
All other sound seemed to stop, and it was just the two of them here, and Watt’s heart clenched in his chest beccause it was better than anything he could have hoped for. “I love you too,” he answered, though surely she already knew.
Leda threw herself into his arms, and Watt held her like that for a moment, content to let the gossamer threads of their love fold them back from the world. He didn’t even feel the need to kiss her. Standing like this—with her heartbeat echoing through his rib cage, breathing in the scent of her hair—felt more intimate, somehow.
Then Leda lifted her eyes to him, and he saw that she was smiling, and Watt broke out into an answering grin. “I knew it,” he couldn’t help saying. “I knew you would fall in love with me again.”
Leda shook her head, still smiling that sidelong smile. “Watt. What makes you think I ever stopped?”
He kissed her for that one.
When they pulled away, they both glanced back up at the Tower. “Are you ready to go back?” Leda asked.
“No,” Watt said honestly.
“Me neither. But if we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting forever.”
Watt knew she was right. He cast one last glance to where Nadia had disappeared into the water, then started back toward the monorail station with Leda, hand in hand, as the sun broke through the clouds above them. The snow had stopped, but it left a light dusting over the sidewalks, so that Watt had the bright clear sensation of walking on snow that no one else had touched. It felt like time was beginning over again.
He would get a bracing cup of coffee, and a peanut butter sandwich, and then Watt would face the world—clean and unfiltered, exactly the way it was meant to be seen.
ATLAS
WALKING DOWN NEUHAUS Street on the 892nd floor, one might have thought it was an ordinary upTower afternoon. Tourists lingered in front of various boutiques, debating whether to purchase a jeweled bangle or electric jacket. Well-dressed couples strolled to lunch, clutching their morning espressos in thin recycled cups. The holographic sky projected onto the ceilings overhead was a deep slate gray, in accordance with the sobriety of the occasion. The watery light illuminated the white stones of St. Monica’s Basilica, casting the structure in a chalky calcium pallor.
Atlas turned the corner and was instantly assaulted by a wall of noise. A crowd thronged around the church ten rows deep. They wailed ostentatiously, holding up signs that said WE MISS YOU, AVERY!
He shook his head in disgust and hurried away from it all, down a side street that edged along the church, and through an unmarked door that led directly into the back of the nave. He remembered it from his own confirmation five years ago.
The basilica was so crowded that every last spot was occupied, though Atlas didn’t mind. He hadn’t exactly planned on advertising his presence, had no desire to stroll up to the Fullers and give them a hug. He wasn’t sure whether they even knew that he’d escaped his minders—those ridiculous security thugs who’d stripped away his technology, forced him into an unmarked plane, and tried to make him disappear. Except Atlas was the one who’d ended up disappearing on them.
If they had given it any thought, the Fullers might have realized that he would be here today. Like hell would he miss Avery’s funeral. He wasn’t about to lose his chance to say good-bye to the love of his life.
He stayed in the back of the church, silent and unobtrusive, one eye alert in case any of his parents’ security guards were watching for him. It was easier this way. Not having to say hello to anyone, accept any condolences, deal with any of their lingering disgust over the fact that he had loved Avery. Just himself and his memories, and the howling monster of his grief.