The Fall

The pressure on my arms vanished. There was a light thud, and my eyes snapped open. The syringe remained secure in Adam’s grip, and a wave of mild surprise played over his face. The needle swung in a glinting, silver arc toward me a second time, and as I watched, Eren delivered a second blow, knocking it away.

“Oh,” Adam said. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

“I doubt it,” said Eren, his jaw clenched.

“Lieutenant,” Adam shouted, “stop him!”

The Lieutenant stood, lumbering, from her chair, but she wasn’t much of a soldier. Not anymore. She stumbled toward us, glassy-eyed, and laid into the fight.

So I kicked her.

The top of my foot hit her squarely in the stomach, and she fell backwards, barely affected save for her lack of balance. Adam and the needle were inches away once again. I gripped the seat of my chair with my hand and caught him fully in the chest with my feet, shoving him for all I was worth. But the angle was too high, and my chair skidded back, teetering. Adam kept coming. Eren launched forward at the same time, dangerously close to the needle, and torpedoed into Adam just as my chair lurched back and hit the ground.

I curled up, trying to keep my head from bearing the brunt of the impact, then flipped around as fast as a cat. Syringes are motivating like that.

But the fight was over. Eren was faster, stronger, and better trained. Adam made a move to stab him with the needle, but Eren used the movement to secure a grip on Adam’s exposed wrist. I lost sight of the needle for a moment, but Eren pulled himself up and landed a knee on Adam’s throat, pinning him. Without releasing his grip, he calmly removed the syringe from Adam’s clenched fist and slid it into his upper arm.

Eren tossed the syringe away and maintained his position while waiting for the drug to take effect. They locked eyes until Adam’s angry, grunting pant dissolved into a helpless growl. Finally, his eyes glassed over, and his struggle ended.

The Lieutenant was sitting, half-reclined, on the ground near a chair. She didn’t look to be much of a threat anymore, either.

Eren stood, straightened his uniform, and looked at me. “You okay?”

I gaped at him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” he said gently, taking a step toward me. “He watches—”

“Back up,” I said. “You stay away from me.”

He stopped in an instant, like someone had slammed a door an inch from his nose. “Charlotte. You have to understand—”

“What? That Adam was watching you? And that’s why you just had to let him keep me in stasis for five years? That’s why you had to bring me back here to him?”

He swallowed, sorting his words before he spoke them out in a slow, careful string. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice breaking. He stepped toward me, and I backed away. I lifted my hand, and again, he stopped.

A moment passed, and he took a seat in the chair, defeated. “Charlotte, please. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Right.”

“He was following us the whole time. Every single word. I’m wearing a k-band, for goodness’— He can literally hear everything I do, and he knows when I’m lying. Look. I was so afraid he’d hurt you if he ever suspected me. I had to be completely sure you’d broken out before I could even think about…” Eren trailed off. “I had to fool you both. I practically had to fool myself. It was the only way to keep you safe. If I’d been wrong about you, or if he’d figured it out—”

“I just spent five years trapped in my own head,” I said, my voice hard. “With no control over what he did to me, or what he made me do. But it’s good to hear how safe I was that whole time.”

Some tiny, near-dead part of my mind knew that my anger was misplaced, at least in part, but the gray madness of Adam’s prison had pushed it so far down I couldn’t reach it. I was finally coherent, and my rage built to an apex.

I wanted Adam dead.

I wanted Eren gone.

I wanted to fly so far away that I never saw any of them, including this cursed ship, ever again.

I wanted my mom.

I was so caught up in the injustice of everything, in the newness of my mind’s freedom, that I didn’t see the shadow moving just outside my vision until it had grown too large to stop. “Er—” I began, but my word was cut short by a strangling pressure around my throat. Adam’s fingers were cold, but he was very much awake. His nails were barely longer than what could pass as normal, and they bit into the skin, like he was making a fist instead of just squeezing. He did not look me in the eye.

“Char!” Eren shouted, too late. He sprang from the chair, but the Lieutenant’s lumbering form was faster. I braced myself, preparing to fight her, too, but the world was already going dark. At the last moment, just as she was about to hit me, her body juddered and swung to one side.

I had the strange sensation that time had slowed, and I struggled to watch as she slammed instead into Adam. A strong jerk shook my vision as she delivered him another blow, and his grip on my neck finally loosened.

And then Eren was there, shoving her aside and hitting Adam so hard that he sprawled onto the ground next to me. I choked in some air and tried to stand. I couldn’t.

A few feet away, the Lieutenant’s slow gaze turned from me to Adam, and together, we watched him fade. Eren stood over his body, fists tight, and turned to look down at me.

“She—” I tried to speak, but was wracked by a cough.

“Lieutenant?” Eren said.

She looked at him mildly, like a puppy preparing for a nap. “Where am I?” she said.

“In headquarters,” said Eren. “You’re in stasis, mostly. I think.”

“Unlike Adam,” I said. “He has some kind of immunity?”

But instead of answering, the Lieutenant slumped to the floor. “I wasn’t always…” she said, and closed her eyes.

As I watched her, the knot in my chest doubled down, pulling tighter. Maybe Eren was right, and we were all just Adam’s prisoners.

But I was still out of breath and exceedingly unwilling to think about Eren right then. I knew the feeling that crept through me, and I hated it. It had only ever made me weak.

Eren, meanwhile, wasted no time in shoving a chair into the doorframe. Grunting, he slung Adam into another chair and cuffed his hands through the armrest. By the time he finished that, I moved to search Adam’s jacket. When I came near, Eren stepped away.

“No antidote,” he said. “He doesn’t keep it on him.” I didn’t answer, and he shifted awkwardly back to help the Lieutenant, his mouth tight. About the ti–me he got her into a comfortable-looking position, I found Adam’s holster.

He was armed, of course, but I didn’t recognize the weapon. It was some kind of oblong metal box that came to a point at one end. One side had a flip-button labeled with letters etched into the metal by hand. “D F¯ DEW…” I looked up. “What the heck does that mean?”

Eren looked at the weapon, avoiding my eyes. “Deuterium Fluoride Directed Energy Weapon. I’ve actually seen that one in action. It concentrates a stream of infrared chemicals—heavy hydrogen, for example—and neutralizes the target via plasma breakdown.”

“Plasma…” I muttered. “Hang on. Are you telling me he made a real-life laser gun?”

“Yeah,” said Eren. “Pet project of his.”

“Aren’t they all.” I turned it in my hand, thinking, and aimed it at Adam’s head. “So let’s see how he did.” My thumb hadn’t quite caught the flip when Eren knocked into me, throwing the blaster into a wall.

Speechless, I watched it fall before turning back to Eren to stare a death-ray of my own straight into his face, which was inches from mine. “You have got to be kidding me right now.”

“Charlotte. You can’t kill him.” He had the tone of a man trying to talk a cat down from a tree, but there was a sense of urgency he was trying to subdue. So maybe the cat was dangerous, like a lion. Or maybe the tree was on fire.

Either way, I found it annoying.

“Eren, get off me. And let’s test that theory, shall we? Move.” I shoved him as hard as I could manage, and he moved back a fraction of an inch, mostly out of courtesy.

I leaned over, reaching for the blaster, and he caught me by the wrist again. His voice remained soft, in sharp contrast to mine. “Listen, you can’t. Life support is wired to his vitals. If he dies, we all do.”

He paused, watching me. When he was sure his words had sunk in, his grip relaxed.

A moment later, I let some of the tension fall from my own stance. “Okay. Let me go,” I said, more calmly. “All the way.”

He backed up, looking pained, and took a seat in the chair again. His shoulders slumped a little, and he leaned forward, looking up at me from a much lower vantage point. It was about as non-threatening a stance as any I’d seen. He still made me nervous.

“Sorry,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “Me too.”

“Can we switch it to someone else’s vitals? Maybe someone can hack in.”

He shook his head. “The system is keyed to his heartbeat. No one can replicate that.”

Adam was always a step ahead. “We’ll never be safe while he’s alive, Eren,” I said.

Eren didn’t hear me. “So how did he attack you? Not that it matters, but shouldn’t he have been more like a puppet?”

I shook my head. “He wasn’t in stasis. That’s for sure. You can’t make decisions in stasis. You can remember feelings, like fear or sorrow, but nothing concrete, like needing to attack someone.”

“The Lieutenant would beg to differ,” Eren said dryly.

“I don’t know how she did that, either. Adam must have some kind of automatic antidote. Or he saved the heavy doses just for me. Or he’s engineered a formula that only he’s immune to,” I mused. “There’s no telling. Anyway, he’s definitely out now.”

Eren nodded, staring at the floor, the wall, Adam’s sleeping form, and finally, me. “Good. Because there’s something I need to tell you.”

Five

Eren yanked a stick-like gadget from Adam’s jacket and turned to the comm panel. I’d seen it once before, when Adam had used it to steal an Arkhopper. The panel hummed to life, and Eren pulled the comm device toward his mouth, keying a code into the board. A moment later, it lit up. “Everest to Tribune. Come in, Turner.”

I stood straight, electrified.

Eren looked back at me and grinned. I continued to gape until my voice bubbled up, and suddenly, I was shouting. “Dad? Dad, are you there?!”

Eren held up a hand to quiet me.

“You,” I hissed at him. “I have questions for you.”

“He’s been in touch a few times a year. Keeps this line open. But he couldn’t get to you. Adam’s always watching.”

“And you decided to keep it a secret? Of course you did. Dad! Where are you!”

“We were trying to protect you, Charlotte. Just until we could get you out. And believe me, we have tried everything. It’s more complicated than you realize. We tried getting to her,” he nodded toward the Lieutenant, “but Adam must have kept her on a tight leash.” He shook his head a little. “We figured she was loyal to him. We tried constructing our own antidote, but he just changed the formula. Nothing ever worked.”

The comm popped, and my father’s voice filled the room. It was intensely familiar, unchanged in the five years since I’d heard it. “Turner to Tribune Liaison. What’s the news, Eren?”

“Dad!” I shouted. “Where are you?”

There was a pause, then my father made a sound I couldn’t identify. “Charlotte,” he said slowly. “Eren, is that—is she—?”

“She’s out of stasis,” said Eren. “And Adam’s down. For now.”

“Dad! Where are you?” I repeated. “Did you make it to Europe?”

“I’m here, Charlotte. I never left.”

“But, how?”

“I called in every favor I had,” he said. “Every last one. That’s the short version, anyway.”

He sounded like there was more to say, but Eren interrupted. “Sir, we need to move. We have to assume that Adam set traps. There’s no time.”

“I’m ready,” my father answered. “Meet me at the dock in ten minutes sharp. Don’t be late.” There was a pause, and another sound, this one like a half-laugh. “Charlotte. Welcome back. It’s good to hear your voice again. It really is.”

“You too, Dad,” I said. “We’ll be right there.”

“Turner out,” he said, and the mic turned black again.

I stared at the empty panel. My father was alive. We were going to be together. I took a deep breath.

My father hadn’t left me.

I angled toward the door, catching Eren’s eye. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We should go.”

I followed his frowning gaze to the Lieutenant. She was peacefully asleep, mere feet away from the most dangerous person I’d ever known. “I mean, it’s not the worst idea, you know? Leaving. Escaping. Staying alive.” I bit a lip. After all, she had chosen to work for Adam, hadn’t she?

“We have no antidote,” Eren said. “She’s gonna stay in stasis until he comes around. Although, he is tied up.”

“I guarantee that’s not gonna hold him once he’s awake. We could try to give her someplace to hide.”

“There is no hiding on this ship, Char.” Eren sounded irritated. “Certainly not on the Guardian Level. Besides, she’s barely conscious.”

“She’ll slow us down,” I said, but Eren just stood there, waiting.

Finally, I sighed. “You’re not going to leave her, are you.” It wasn’t a question.

He shook his head.

I smiled in spite of myself. Maybe he hadn’t changed as much as I’d thought.

“You get this side,” he said, putting her left arm around my shoulders. He ducked to lift her the rest of the way to her feet. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad.”

I stood, supporting her. “Or perhaps she was acting on some kind of stasis-induced hallucination, and as soon as she snaps out of it, she’ll kill us all.”

“Ever the optimist.” He returned the smile. “Let’s go. Watch the doorframe.”

But something held me back. I stood there for a moment, trying to think, then slowly let go of her arm. “Hang on. We need a better plan.”

“How did you put it? Escaping? Staying alive? This is a very good plan.” Eren made a face from the hallway. “Brilliant, even.”

“No, it leaves us open. We need protection, Eren.”

“Char—” he said softly.

“Here’s the thing. If we take her—” I waved at the Lieutenant—“we save one person. It’s the wrong play.”

Eren looked from corridor, to me, to Adam’s chair. “Oh, no you don’t. Now that is a bad plan.”

“Hear me out,” I said hastily. “We can’t kill him. Not yet. And he controls everything on this Ark. So we can’t lock him up. Not here. It’s the right move, Eren. It’s checkmate.”

“No, it’s stalemate at best. It’s nuts, is what it is. Do you have any idea how strong he is?”

I swallowed. “None of us does. That’s the problem.”

I waited while he considered that. A moment passed, and he laid the Lieutenant down with a pointed sigh.

“Good. You get that side,” I said, popping the cuffs off Adam’s wrists and shoving them into my pocket. As soon as they clicked open, Eren was at my side, ready to fight again. But Adam didn’t move. I pulled his arm over my shoulder.

“This is insane.” He made an angry grunt and hefted Adam’s remaining weight off the chair.

“Your objection is noted,” I said cheerfully. It was about time we got the upper hand around here. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

We stumbled into the dock with about a minute to spare. “Dad?” I called around the room in a half-whisper. I had never taken the Guardian entrance to the hangar before. It was imposing even when sealed shut. I turned to Eren. “You got the control stick-thingy?”

“Yes.” Eren looked around. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what? Do you think he’s on the other side already?”

“Your dad? No. He couldn’t be. He’s got the skins—the suits. I think the Ark just moved.”

“It’s your imagination,” I said. Eren looked pale. Well, paler than usual. “The skins?”

“They never repaired the seal in the hangar. Without skins, we die.”

I swallowed against the dizzying feeling that the only thing separating me from the vast vacuum of space was a sheet of glass. “Dad!”

“Hey, keep it down. He has ears everywhere.” Eren laid a hand on the window, as though steadying himself, and laid his half of Adam gently on the floor. He looked sick.

I nodded. “Yeah, but be careful with the glass, okay? I’m not looking to take the quick way out.”

Eren stared down at Adam’s limp form, then looked back at me. “It’s fused silica,” he said.

What did that have to do with anything? “Silica. Great. Congrats on reading the pre-flight materials.”

Eren made a face like he wanted to laugh, but couldn’t, and slid down to sit next to Adam. “Fused. With titanium, too. Like the k-bands.” He waved a wrist at me, and his kuang band glinted in the bright light coming from the hangar. He had a strange look on his face.

“Hey. You okay?”

He looked down. “Char. I’m sorry.” His hand closed around the metal band on his wrist, and it hit me that he’d been wearing it for the last five years. I guess life hadn’t been so great for either of us.

“For what? Hey, get up. You’re kinda scaring me. Eren. We gotta find my dad.”

“Sorry it took five years. Sorry I couldn’t get you out of this any sooner.” He slumped forward. “No matter what, you leave. Don’t stay here.” His forehead touched the concrete, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Eren. Eren. Get up. Please get up. Wake up.” I shook him as hard as I could, but he only flopped onto his back, eyes closed.

“Charlotte?”

The sound jolted through me, and I whirled around. “Dad? Help! He’s—”

My father came running out of a shadow, and I had the absurd thought that exactly ten minutes had passed since our conversation. To the second.

He pressed a hand into Eren’s neck. “He’s breathing. Pulse is—fine, probably. Put this on,” he said, shoving a skin into my arms.

I wasted no time in getting the rubbery material over Eren’s feet. “I’m gonna need help lifting up his hips.”

Dad was glancing around the ceiling, a gesture that seemed out of place for him. I’d never really seen my dad get nervous. “No, Charlotte. Not on him. On you. Hurry up.”

My lips froze, mouth open, and I took a second to steel my spine. “I’m not leaving him,” I said quietly.

“It was always the plan. He has to stay here, Charlotte. There’s a chip in his k-band.”

“Then it doesn’t matter whether he stays here or not. He’s…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought aloud. He’s dead either way.

Dad chose that moment to wrap an arm around my shoulder, a second gesture I couldn’t quite place with him, and squeeze.

I returned the embrace, surprised. We hadn’t hugged much during our last few years on Earth. He added his other arm, and for the moment, I had the irrepressible feeling that things would be okay. That no matter what, my problems were no match for my dad.

His eyes traveled down my right arm, to the place where my wrist should have been, and he hesitated before speaking. “I know. I know. But Eren knew the risks. He was very clear.”

“Are you worried about being spied on? We’ll just wrap the band up with aluminum, like you did mine.”

“It’s worse than spying, Charlotte. He’s been drugged. He could easily be dead before we get him on the Arkhopper.”

I shook my head, frustrated. No way was Adam going to win this one. “How many skins did you bring?”

“Two.”

“Two.” I said, hopping up. “So we need two more.” I trotted around the area, tapping on wall panels. A few held emergency supplies, including a military-grade first-aid kit, which I ignored, and a pressurized flare gun, which I grabbed out of habit.

“Charlotte—” he said gently.

“We can’t leave Eren. And we sure can’t leave Adam. So two more skins.”

His eyes widened. “That’s Adam? Charlotte.”

I whirled around, halfway to the other side of the hangar door, and filled my voice with lead. “Dad. I am not leaving them.”

“Well, we’re not staying here. I can’t let you—” Dad stopped, recognizing my tone, and gritted his teeth. Then he took a breath, regarding me with a measure of thoughtfulness. “I suppose it does give us some leverage.”

“Right?” I breathed a sigh of relief. At least one person didn’t think my plan was insane. I returned to my search, whacking the next panel I came to. The compartment opened to reveal one skin. One.

It was better than nothing. I lifted my chin and knocked open the rest of the panels, but it seemed that Adam had stored only enough for himself.

I turned back to Dad. “Okay. Three skins. Not ideal.”

Dad shook his head. I slid down next to Eren and began to work the skin over his boots again. “How far from here to the bay?”

“Ten feet, maybe? It’s the first ship in the hangar. Only ship, actually.”

“And Adam hasn’t disabled it?”

“We think it’s his getaway vehicle. I’m sure he’s got some trick or another up his sleeve in case someone else takes off with it. But he’s in stasis, right?”

My hand had wandered to the back of Eren’s head, and I pulled it away as casually as I could before my dad noticed. “Nope. Good old-fashioned knockout.”

Dad nodded. “That works, too,” he said slowly.

Too slowly.

He laid a hand over mine, and I stopped trying to secure the skin on Eren’s hips.

“What?” I said impatiently.

He gave me a slow look. “Charlotte.”

“What?”

“We have three skins.”

“I know.”

“We can’t leave Adam. You and I are agreed on that point.”

I pulled Eren’s head onto my legs without really thinking about it. It filled my entire lap. His face was completely relaxed. He was so helpless, in spite of his size. In that moment, there was no one but me to protect him. “I’m not leaving Eren. He never left me.”

“Eren’s unconscious, sweetheart. He can’t fly the hopper.” He lowered his voice. “You need to understand. There’s so much we don’t know about stasis. He may not wake up.”

“I’m not leaving him,” I repeated stubbornly. “I’m taking him to the doctors over there. Who knows what Adam’s done to him?”

It occurred to me that my father was as strong-willed as I’d ever been. At least I got it honestly. “Charlotte,” he said gently. “One skin for you. One for me, to fly the ship. And one…”

I pursed my lips, understanding his point at last. “For Adam. Because if he dies in the vacuum, we all do.”

Dad nodded.

“So take them. I’m the only one you don’t need. And I’ll be fine. No k-band or anything.”

“I won’t do that, Charlotte. Whatever you think you’re capable of, you’re not safe here. I’m not leaving you again.” His voice took on its own kind of strength—not anger, as I’d heard in the past, but something closer to resolution. “That’s the deal. Either you come with me, or no one does. Besides,” he smiled strangely, “if Adam didn’t kill me, Eren would.”

“So maybe we’re not going anywhere, after all,” I said. Stalemate again.

Dad looked at me, then back to the wall. “What do you want, Charlotte?”

“What do you mean?”

“What is it that you want? You’ve been fighting against things all your life. What are you fighting for these days?”

“I want—” I stopped, thinking. “I want my family back. I want the ships to be safe. All of them.” I took another long pause and leveled my gaze with his. “And I want Adam dead.”

“Then we have to get on that hopper. We have no allies here. This entire Ark is rigged to kill dissenters. Anyone who stands up to him. That’s why he’s lasted so long.” There was a change in his tone. “And your brother is on the European Ark.”