Atomic Rebooted

59. Quiet

MIRA

It was still dark outside when I woke up, but the sun was just beginning to glimmer on the horizon. I glanced around me—Claire was still asleep in her bed.

I moved softly and slowly, as to not wake her. Or anyone else in the house, really.

It was dark inside, and so very quiet—just like the Atomic Energy compound was at night. Perhaps it was this eerily quiet anywhere, when you were awake when you weren't supposed to be.

I passed the living room and slipped out the front door, only stopping to grab a hoodie off of one of the hooks. I drew it close to myself as I took a spot on the rail of the porch.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I blinked, shaking my head.

Tristan was out here, too, also sitting on the rail of the front porch.

I realized, a beat too late, that the porch lights were already on. He must've done that, I thought.

I rubbed my eyes. "I'm not used to the whole falling in and out of sleep thing. Back at the compound, we were put in sleep tubes, and we were kept in deep sleep for at least eight hours. Really, until they were ready for us to wake up."

"The same tubes they were going to use to kill you, when it's all over?" I could hear the disgust in his voice. "Wow. This really is all screwed up, isn't it?"

"I'm still coming to grips with it myself." I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm still learning how to be a person. I can't imagine what must be happening at Atomic Energy right now."

What were they telling them? Did anyone suspect that Tenebrous had been telling the truth? Were the scientists like Dr. Banning doing something to keep the Sentinels from rebelling, from finding out the truth?

Or were they really all shells inside, like Heretic—my mother— suspected they were?

"You still care about them." He tilted his head and squinted, as if trying to read something.

"Of course I do!" I couldn't help the irritation rising in my voice. "I don't know why anyone would suspect anything else! I grew up with them, I loved them—they were my family."

I bit my lip and glanced around. Nothing moved, no shadows came alive to get me. But I realized I needed to have a little more caution.

"Sorry." I closed my eyes. "At least—the other Sentinels, I still care about. They're victims, just as much as I was. As Verity was."

"I guess I can see that." Tristan looked out at the empty city street. "Hard to see Powerline as a victim, though."

"He was stolen as a baby, just like I was, and given no other choices." I had no idea why I was defending him, as he was the biggest asshole I'd ever met. But it felt right to do so, all the same. "It's harder to pin down how I feel about Dr. Banning."

"Dr. Banning?"

"The doctor that raised and trained my team," I explained. "She didn't have a family—we were her kids, she treated us like we were her children. Somewhat, at least."

There was a sympathetic, pitying smile on Tristan's face.

"Children shouldn't be treated like that."

"I know— it's just—" I struggled to find the right words to make him understand. "She was the closest thing I had to that. At least, until I found out about. . . "

What even to call her?

Heretic was the name burned into my mind for her. But it seemed wrong, to call her that now. Mom and Mother were epithets that would never come easily to me. Lora was probably the name I'd be more comfortable with, even if it made us more into colleagues or cousins than mother and daughter.