Theo snorts. “Only because we lost the vote to call it the Rebel Base.” He gives me a dubious look. “Please tell me you’re not one of those people who’ve never seen Star Wars.”
I manage a very small grin. “I’d hardly call them people.”
His laugh is a deep rumble. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”
“Yeong!” Shura calls, skipping forward into the widening space. “You’re needed!”
I look up to see who she’s talking to, and my feet immediately stop moving like they’ve been bolted to the floor.
Even though we’re underground, there’s an entire village in front of me. Wooden huts scatter the room, some of them sitting within the branches of enormous, warped trees and others in rows on the ground. Everything is a combination of wood and metal, and there are seven separate levels with cagelike elevators transporting people from one floor to the next. Hundreds of lanterns hang from one side of the cavern to the other, their soft yellow glows powerful enough to fill the space.
No, not hanging, I realize, staring at the lanterns in bewilderment. They’re floating in the air without any help at all, like fireflies under a spell.
There are people everywhere, most dressed in clothes I remember from the twenty-first century, but others wear tailored suits and intricate gowns that seem to be a mash-up of the Victorian era and Tomorrowland. Most of them seem too busy to notice us, but some of them move hurriedly across the walkways, stopping to peer over the railing with big, curious eyes.
They’re trying to get a better look at me.
It’s a good thing I’m too awestruck to formulate any questions, because I’m pretty sure every word I’ve ever known has vanished from my brain.
A woman with dark skin walks toward me, her gaze heavy with suspicion. She’s wearing a brown leather jacket that looks as if it’s survived a war zone and a yellow scarf tied around a bundle of long braids. Next to her is a slender man with the same black hair and pale complexion as my dad, which makes my throat knot. He smiles when he sees me, and I get the feeling I’ve been expected.
“I’m Yeong, the closest thing we’ve got to a medic.” He starts to reach out his hand, before realizing I’m leaning quite dependently on Theo’s arm. A frown takes over his face when he spots my injury. “Let’s get you to sick bay right away. Introductions can wait.”
The woman with braided hair eyes me carefully but hangs back with Ahmet.
I hobble toward a large hut at the base of one of the trees. Inside, it’s lit up by a ceiling of dangling lanterns, each a shade of turquoise, gold, and cerulean that cast fantastical shadows along the floor. I smell orange and cinnamon, though I’m not sure how, because aside from two red couches, a coffee table made out of scrap metal, and a strange machine half-hidden in a cupboard, there’s nothing else here.
Lowering me onto one of the couches, Theo pulls his arm away and nods at my leg. “Looks like something new. It knocked her out for a few minutes—maybe some kind of suppressor?”
Yeong flattens his mouth. “Are you sure it’s not a tracker?”
Theo darkens. “I—I don’t think so.” He gathers his confidence, crossing his thick arms over his chest defensively. “Besides, she didn’t take the pill. They can’t track anyone without taking over their mind first.”
Yeong hums, kneeling beside me. “Tell me what it feels like.”
I make a face. “It feels like I’ve been shot in the leg.”
His eyes latch on to mine like they’re coaxing me for details. “Describe it.” When I don’t reply, he adds, “Unless you want to spend the rest of your time here in pain.”
Frowning, I glance down at the wound in my thigh. “It feels hot. Like the skin on top is burning, but underneath is something heavy and jagged. Like… like a rock.” I look up, and Yeong is nodding.
“Perfect. Now I want you to concentrate on that feeling. Isolate it in your mind. Do you have it?”
I want to argue, but Yeong and Theo are looking at me so seriously that I decide it’s better to appease them. So instead, I nod twice and close my eyes, thinking only of the object still buried in my skin.
The more I focus on the pain, the more it intensifies. Searing heat radiates from the open wound all the way to the bone, causing my leg to buckle in response. I inhale sharply.
Yeong speaks again, his voice mellow and warm. “That’s good. Now picture that feeling, that pain, and imagine your physical body is rejecting it. Imagine the shrapnel being pushed out of you and the pain going away. Imagine you are in control and that metal—that rock—it doesn’t belong with you.”
I breathe through my nose. I don’t know how time works here, or how long it’s really been since I died, but pain feels like such a part of me that I can barely remember a time I’ve lived without it. I want my skull to stop throbbing. I want skin that doesn’t hurt. Bones that don’t feel brittle. Muscles that don’t ache with every movement.
Maybe this is more hypnotherapy than surgery, but if there’s any chance it could help—any chance to ease what I’m feeling—I’ll try it.
I just want the pain to stop.
I focus on the burn in my leg and imagine it fading like the last embers in a fire. I picture the metal leaving my body, healing the wound, and leaving smooth, unmarked skin in its place.
I tell myself everything is as it was. Pain doesn’t exist anymore.
The ache fades like a mist giving way to blue skies and sunlight. I feel—
Yeong’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Not bad for a first-timer.”
My eyes flash open, and I see Theo and Yeong smiling at me. When I look down at my leg, the wound has vanished.
It’s like it never existed at all.
I press my fingers to my skin before hooking my thumb through the small hole in my pants. The tear is crisp at the edges, seared by the bullet that made me fall asleep. But there’s no shrapnel—no pain—no evidence beyond the frayed bits of cotton.
I press my hand to my forehead, realizing some of the headache has faded too. “How did you do that?”
“Actually, you did it.” Theo is beaming like someone with a secret they can’t wait to share.
Yeong nods. “Pain is just a habit you haven’t learned to break yet.” He tilts his head to the side and points to his temple. “You can make the headaches go away too, but they sometimes take a bit longer. We don’t know why, exactly—maybe it’s the trauma of death. But that pain is different from the pain the Residents force on us.”
Theo looks at Yeong warily. “That bullet didn’t look like anything they’ve used before. If it’s new, it means they’re adapting. Do you think it’s something to worry about?”
“Yes,” Yeong replies almost forcefully. “They’re adapting faster than the rest of us are learning to control our consciousness, which is… unsettling, to say the least. It’s like studying for an algebra test only to show up in class and realize they’ve changed the test to trigonometry.”
“How do we beat that?” Theo asks.
“We adapt too.” The woman with the yellow scarf and braided hair stands in the doorway. There’s strength in her stance and power in her voice. It makes me shrink into myself, suddenly aware of my own vulnerability.