Quanta Read online

  First Published by Ink Monster, LLC in 2015

  Ink Monster, LLC

  34 Chandler Place

  Newton, MA 02464

  www.inkmonster.net

  ISBN 9780996086479

  Copyright © 2015 by Ink Monster LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also by Lola Dodge

  The Shadow Ravens Series

  Quanta

  Coming Soon

  Quanta: Reset

  The Manhattan Ten Series

  Temptress

  Ivory

  Belle Fury

  Junglecat Honeymoon

  Angel

  M10: Unlikely Beginnings

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  QUANTA

  If pacing were a sport, I’d definitely be the world champion by now. Too bad the whole being a prisoner thing knocked me out of the running for medals.

  I sighed as I started yet another lap around my living room. A track dug into the white carpet, circling my sofa and plastic coffee table.

  There were only three things I could do to keep busy. I could draw, but my charcoal sticks were worn to nubs and sketches of landscapes and animals already overlapped on every wall.

  I could also keep pacing, but that kept my brain way too free to wonder how much longer this stupid isolation was going to last.

  That left option three: using my powers to peek through time.

  I flopped on the couch and swung my butt-length black tangles out of the way. I’d chop the mess if anyone would let me near a pair of scissors, but those were off-limits along with anything else flammable, electrical, or sharper than an elbow.

  Good call. I’d stab myself with a fork if I thought it would get me out of here.

  But it wouldn’t. The Seligo were never letting their favorite Red Helix seer out on the streets.

  Red ink flashed at my hip, and I tugged my camisole down to cover my Helix tattoo. I didn’t need the reminder that my DNA was unstable. Technically, I didn’t even need the tattoo. It was supposed to warn other people how crazy dangerous I was, but the only people I ever saw were the ones keeping me locked up. They already knew exactly what I could do.

  If I had to be tattooed, I’d stick with the glittering raven drawn between my thumb and forefinger. At least that one stood for something I believed in. I’d been born a Red Helix, but I’d chosen to be a Shadow Raven. A rebel, fighting against Doctor Nagi, his immortal Seligo, and everything they stood for.

  Usually.

  These last few weeks I felt like a professional pacer.

  I hoped it had been weeks. If it hadn’t…

  Would there be a sound when I snapped, or would it just happen?

  Letting out a breath, I sank deeper into the couch cushions. As my eyes slipped out of focus, the present blurred and my thoughts slid to the blue haze of past and possibility that always camped at the edge of my thoughts.

  As soon as I opened up to them, timeghosts bled over the room, fighting for my brain space.

  I pace the room, bunching my fists in frustration; a tray of food slips through the slot in the wall; standing on tiptoes, I sketch the clouds of a city skyline; I burrow in the sofa; I lunge away from a Black Helix guard; I—

  I shook my head to cut off the flow. The timeghosts layered over the present like bits of sketches drawn on tissue paper. I could see through them, but too many got overwhelming fast and all the sights and sounds and smells from other times muddled together.

  When they blurred like that, I couldn’t pick out single ghosts, let alone tell whether they were from the past or future.

  Opening myself to all that randomness would pass the time and all, but right now I wanted answers. Like how much longer is this flipping punishment going to last?

  Focusing on that question, I paged through the options. Most of the futures showed the same fuzzy fluff—snippets of me going about my routine. I mentally tossed those to the side and squinted at the front door. When will it open? Who’ll be there when it does?

  A few solid-but-ghostly pasts wormed into my head in bursts of voices and fuzzy figures that quickly faded. My forehead pinched, but I was getting closer. First super-sketchy futures that would probably never happen. Then wavy futures. Almost-solid futures.

  There.

  In the chaos of blue-tinged potential people, I spotted my caretaker, Akua, and gave another mental tug to pause on the spot I wanted—like a dog-ear in my own little book of the universe. Akua holds a tray of plastic-covered plates as she strides down the hall.

  With the vision, the tantalizing scent of hot cocoa wafted through time.

  Breakfast.

  Akua’s long, black braids still had a tinge of future fuzz. This one wasn’t absolutely certain, but it was firming up by the second.

  Soon. I’d bet less than an hour.

  About time.

  The tension in my shoulders eased. I could last another hour.

  What’s coming next?

  A few half-hearted images flipped past: I cross the living room, heading toward the holographic window of faux skyscrapers; the cleaning bot sucks crumbs from the white carpet. When those fluttered away, nothing.

  Like nothing, nothing.

  The silence rang in my ears and I blinked fast, trying to make sense of the weird stillness, but the emptiness stayed empty. The hairs on my arms lifted in alarm.

  There couldn’t be nothing in my future…

  Right?

  I flicked back to the image of Akua I’d dog-eared. This time, I followed her timeghost as long as I could:

  “Good morning, Quanta.” Akua strides through the door and sets down my tray. “Have you been well?” She uncovers my plates and then hangs back, afraid to come close.

  I skipped ahead. We’d chat. I’d try to trick her into something. All normal stuff. A few other possibilities popped into being for this afternoon and I needed to take a closer look at those later, but for now I tried to look farther ahead.

  After that. What’s happening later?

  For the first time in a long time, the future was a big goose egg.

  Maybe no news was good news? I liked to think I’d get a hint if I was supposed to die, but…

  I hugged my arms to my body, trying to suppress a wave of the chills. It wasn’t like I always knew what was coming. I made good guesses, but it was still guessing—picking the most likely future out of the options that showed.

  I couldn’t see everything. And I’d been blindsided before, missing the real future in the mountain of possibilities.

  Whatever happened, I always saw something.

  Until now.

  I hopped up to pace and rub my arms some more, but the emptiness stayed. I kept twitching, thinking I saw motion, but it was just the tech in the walls flashing.

  What did it mean? And what was I going to do about it?

  It wasn’t like I had tons of options. I couldn’t get the front door open, let alone make it down the hall alive. There were cameras everywhere. A ridiculous number of guards. Plus I was twenty-something stories underground. Escape was not an option now or ever.

  All I could do was hope I’d be able to talk myself out of…

  Whatever this was.

  Sickening unease carried me through the long hour. By the time the pressurized door whooshed open, my head throbbed with strain and frustration.

  “Good morning, Quanta.” The real Akua set my tray on the plastic dining table. “Have you been well?”

  “I’ve been stellar.” I managed not to scowl, but she probably heard the urge in my voice. The girl knew exactly how I’d been. I had no doubt she’d been watching my live feeds 24/7, getting all twitchy to get back to me and start a new wave of psych tests.

  Akua uncovered my plates and then stepped back to stand near the door. Half her dark braids were pulled into a bun and she swept the other half over her shoulder so she could lean against the wall. A thread popped out of the Blue Helix embroidered on her pocket, but everything else about her was flawless from her photo-finish skin to her thick, black eyelashes.

  She was maybe ten years older than me, but it was hard to say when both
of us had such modded DNA and I was guessing my age to begin with. Nineteen-ish? Twenty-one?

  It was hard to keep track. I hadn’t been super lucid the years I was lab rat.

  Regardless, Akua was the lesser of many possible evils and I was 99% certain she wasn’t the one who’d kill me.

  So why can’t I see what’s coming?

  “What’s bothering you?” Akua’s eyes narrowed.

  I almost snorted. All she had to do was check my readings on her little touchscreen wrist thing if she wanted to see my pulse freaking out.

  But that wouldn’t be very Akua. She’d earned her Blue Helix specializing in psych stuff and she never missed a chance to ask an annoying question.

  The last thing I needed to do was give her something to pick at. She’d make me look at inkblots until my eyes bled and then she’d really get started. I dropped into my chair and rubbed my hands against my pajama bottoms. I was seriously off my game and I needed to get it together.

  Akua started into a bunch of questions to check my mental health, but I tuned her out and focused on my food. Today’s menu had cocoa, fresh fruit, and a stack of round pancakes with a side of strawberry glaze. I lifted a hand, cutting off the tide of psychobabble. “My whipped cream?”

  “Your blood sugar is a bit higher than optimal.” Now Akua startled rattling off something about fiber and nutrients, but I was already done.

  If I was going to die any minute now, who cared if my blood type was chocolate? Might as well go out on a high note.

  It was a good enough reason to fake a tantrum, but I resisted. I had a more important goal right now. Figuring a way around this gigantic blank.

  “You missed me, didn’t you?” I asked.

  Akua relaxed a bit, registering that I wasn’t going to flip over the whipped cream. “I was worried about your condition after so much time alone.”

  My condition. Not me. Huge difference.

  And who was she kidding? She could’ve requested to end the punishment at any time.

  Ah well.

  Akua had tranqed me one too many times for us to ever be friends.

  I dumped the bowl of glaze over my pancakes and spread out the strawberry chunks, pretending to be engrossed. “So? What’s my schedule?”

  “We’ve an hour of game time, followed by a holo room session and a psych evaluation.”

  I paused my spreading to scowl. “Holo room? Already?” Maybe I should tackle her and get tranqed instead? That would be so much more fun than holo room hell with Darren. Although spending time with him anywhere was hellish. Getting my thoughts projected was just the cherry on the hate sundae.

  Akua nodded. “We’ve pressing matters to discuss, otherwise we would’ve continued your punishment the full month.”

  “That wasn’t four weeks?” A touch of panic sounded in my voice, but I couldn’t blame myself, because whoa.

  “Two and a half.”

  I swallowed. I guess I learned my lesson? No more freaking out the handlers with telepathy. Unless they really, really deserved it. “How is Marco these days?”

  “He’s returned to work,” Akua said. “In a limited capacity.”

  “But he won’t be visiting?” I kept my voice innocent, but it was his fault I was in iso.

  “No.”

  Akua’s firm answer sparked a wave of fluttering futures: Marco braces his shoulder against a wall as he walks down a fuzzy corridor. Once upon a time he had perfect hair and a cocky smirk. These days, his hair hung lank around his face, framing haunted eyes that stared straight at his feet.

  Now that I had a read on him, I flicked forward, but all his options were more of the same. Shuffling feet. Numb. Staring at nothing.

  I almost regretted it, but a breath of relief gusted free before I could stop it. Marco made Darren look like a stand-up citizen. I’d wanted to throw him off before he started running me through “experiments” that looked a lot more like torture than science.

  All I’d done was get in his head and show him a couple ways he might die. It had worked a lot better than expected.

  Too bad the trick didn’t work on Akua or Darren or the others. Something about mental fortitude.

  But seriously. What a lamebrain. I’d trade for one of his deaths any day. Mine were way more gruesome. Just the thought sparked a wave of gory options.

  Strapped to a lab table and euthanized; grabbed screaming by a pack of guards in body armor; shot down as I lunge for the door; thrown into the bank of fake windows, my body cracking the screen and revealing the room behind as my blood pools in the glitchy, holographic shards.

  Same old same old, but I still had to swallow a bubble of dread. The worst-case futures looked a lot more solid—and more likely—than I remembered.

  Is that what’s coming? Is that why I can’t see?

  Still nothing.

  My own timeline was the hardest to pin down, but I knew with sick certainty that I was out of years. I hoped I still had months.

  Or days at least?

  Picking up my fork helped hide the tremble in my fingers. Worrying would only make me screw up. I planned to do everything I could to stall my death as long as possible. I’d lose that chance when I started freaking.

  As I scarfed my pancakes, I kept trying to peek into my future, but nada. I doubted the game session was the problem. Maybe the holo room was where the bad news started?

  It usually was. Darren was like all the bad news in the world jammed into one human shell.

  My breath caught in my throat. I’d rather go batty than spend time with him, but I didn’t have to see the future to know I couldn’t avoid it. “What were you saying about pressing matters?”

  Akua jammed her hands into her pockets. “That’s not for me to reveal.”

  “Play you for the info?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If I win?”

  “I’ll get you coordinates for one of the Red Helix girls.”

  Her posture tightened with wariness, but her brown eyes lit at the mention of Red Helix. Hunting Reds was practically a Seligo pastime and I’d seen enough of the recent past to know that tensions were high inside the Citadel. Odds were, my getting sprung early had something to do with them. Too many Reds were making waves outside, running crazy in the lawless Voids, and their unstable DNA gave them dangerous powers.

  Powers like mine, except a lot more destructive.

  If Doctor Nagi had his way, all the Reds would be dead or captive. Taking one off the streets would get Akua promoted from babysitting duty at the very least. More likely, she’d get bumped higher in Nagi’s inner circle and modified to full Seligo, with immortality and all the benefits that went with it. Get her Blue Helix tattoo upgraded to a snazzy UV one that marked her new status.

  She was probably already picturing a cushy life as one of the queens of the Citadel. I kept my mouth shut, letting her live the fantasy. I understood the appeal, but Akua hardly needed the extra mods. Her face was already as close to symmetrical as it could get without looking weird, and her position here in one of Nagi’s facilities said her brain had already been plenty suped. Asking for more was crazy.

  But everyone wanted to live forever, and extra intellect didn’t mean extra common sense. Akua was no exception.

  “Chess?”

  “Whatever you want.” I managed to keep the smug smile off my face. The near future flipped into place, letting me peek ahead a few more seconds. Akua was going to agree and the girl was toast with jam before she touched her first piece.

  She pressed a finger to the sensor on one of the cabinets. The door popped open, revealing stacks of digital puzzle boards and game boxes. She moved the chess set to the dining table and punched the button on the side of the board. Rows of holographic pieces fuzzed into being on each side.

  “Although don’t you think you’re getting the better deal?” I rubbed my hands together. “If I win, you tell me what’s up and I want two hours on the roof.”

  “You know that’s not allowed.” Akua sat across from me, her posture still tight with wariness. “Twenty minutes in the gardens.”

  Twenty minutes? I’d been cooped up for weeks. If I didn’t get out for a walk, I’d snap. “One hour in the gardens and a chocolate cake.”

  She shook her head. “Half an hour and new box of charcoal pencils.”

  My fingers twitched. I did need a refresh on my drawing supplies. “Forty five minutes, the pencils, and a cupcake. You pick the flavor. Plus the reason I got sprung early.”

  Akua’s brown eyes narrowed. “Only if you handicap me your pawns.”