Tally saw every centimeter of the bag's flight, watching as it shot past him—his hands coming up a full second too late to catch it. The pills skidded along the wall, dropping into the corner.
Zane let his empty hands fall back into his lap, where they lay curled like dead slugs.
"Nice catch," Shay said.
Tally swallowed. Zane was crippled.
He shrugged. "I don't need pills, anyway, Shay-la. I'm permanently bubbly." He gestured at his forehead. "The nanos damaged me right here, where the lesions are supposed to go. I think the doctors put more in, but as far as I can tell, they don't have much to grab on to. That part of my brain is all new and changing."
"But what about your …" Tally's throat closed up around the question.
"My memories? My thoughts?" He shrugged again. "Brains are good at rewiring themselves. The way yours did, Tally, when you thought your way out of being pretty And yours, Shay-la, when you cut yourself." One hand lifted from his lap, soaring like a trembling bird. "Controlling someone by changing their brain is like trying to stop a hovercar by digging a ditch. If they think hard enough, they can fly right over."
"But Zane…," Tally said. Her eyes felt hot. "You're shaking."
And it wasn't just the infirmity of his movements—it was his face, his eyes, his voice…Zane wasn't special.
His gaze fixed on her. "You can do it again, Tally."
"Do what?" she said.
"Undo what they did to you. That's what my Crims are doing—rewiring themselves."
"I don't have any lesions."
"Are you sure?"
"Save it for your lame new Crim pals, Zane-la," Shay said. "We're not here to talk about your brain damage. Where did those pills come from?"
"You want to know about the pills?" He smiled. "Why not? You can't stop us. They come from the New Smoke."
"Thanks, genius," Shay said. "But where is it?"
He looked down at his quivering hand. "I wish I knew. Could use their help right now."
Shay nodded. "Is that why you're helping them? Hoping they'll fix you?"
He shook his head. "It's a lot more important than me, Shay-la. But, yeah, we Crims are passing out the cure. That's what these five are doing right now while they're supposedly sitting here." He gestured at the interface rings. "But it's bigger than us—half the cliques in town are helping. We've given out thousands so far."
"Thousands?" Shay said. "That's impossible, Zane! How're the Smokies making that many? Last I saw, they didn't have flush toilets, much less factories."
He shrugged. "Search me. But it's much too late to stop us. The new pills work too fast. There are already too many pretties who can think."
Tally glanced at Shay. This really was bigger than Zane. If what he was saying was true, no wonder the whole city seemed to be changing.
Zane held out his quivering hands in front of him, the wrists close together. "Want to arrest me now?"
Shay paused for a moment, her flash tattoos pulsing on her face and arms. Finally, she shrugged. "I'd never arrest you, Zane-la. Tally wouldn't let me. And besides, at the moment I don't really care about your little pills."
He raised an eyebrow. "So what do you Cutters care about, Shay-la?"
"Other Cutters," Shay said flatly. "Your Smokey pals kidnapped Fausto last night, and we're not happy about it."
Zane s eyebrows rose, and he flashed Tally a look. "That's…interesting. What do you think they're going to do with him?"
"Experiment. Make him all shaky like you, probably," Shay said. "Unless we find him in time."
Zane shook his head. "They don't experiment without consent."
"Consent? What part of 'kidnapped' did you not catch, Zane-la?" Shay said. "These aren't the old wimpy Smokies anymore. They've got military gear and an icy new attitude. They ambushed us with shock-sticks."
"They almost drowned Shay," Tally said. "Pushed her into the river unconscious."
"Unconscious?" The smile on Zane's face grew. "Sleeping on the job, Shay-la."
Shay's muscles tensed, and for a moment Tally thought she was going to spring up from the bed and strike—her diamond-hard fingernails and teeth against Zane's defenseless flesh.
But she only laughed, hands uncurling from fighting position to stroke Tally's hair. "Something like that. But I'm very awake now."
Zane shrugged, as if he hadn't noticed how close she'd come to ripping his throat out. "Well, I don't know where the New Smoke is. I can't help you."
"Yes, you can," Shay said.
"How?"
"You can escape."
"Escape?" Zane's fingers went to his throat. Around his neck was a metal chain, its links a dull silver. "That would be tricky, I'm afraid."
Tally closed her eyes for a moment. So that was how they were tracking him. Zane was not only infirm and unspecial, he was collared like a dog. It was all she could do to keep herself from jumping up and diving out the window. The smell of the room—recycled clothing, the musty book, the sticky sweetness of champagne—all of it was making her sick.
"We can get you something to cut that off," Shay said.
Zane shook his head. "I doubt it. I've tested this in the shop shed; it's the same alloy they use on orbital craft."
"Trust me," Shay said. "Tally and I can do whatever we want."
Tally glanced at Shay. Cut orbital alloy? For technology that serious, they'd have to ask Dr. Cable for help.
Zane fondled the chain. "And for this little favor, you want me to betray the Smoke?"
"You wouldn't do that for your own freedom, Zane," Shay said, and put her hands on Tally's shoulders. "But you'd do it for her."
Tally felt the two sets of eyes on her—Shay's black and deep and special, Zane's watery and average.
"What do you mean?" he said slowly.