Fade Out

Ada’s fingers squeezed, locking the breath in her throat, and Claire wildly hammered her palm down on the next key to the right.

It locked down with an almost physical snap.

As Claire’s fingers slipped off the key, it clicked into place, and the clattering of the machine . . .

. . . stopped.

For a breathless second those cold fingers kept on strangling her, and then they softened, turned to mist . . .

And then they were gone.

A steady, quiet glow came up around her.

Lights.

Claire sank down, back to the keyboard, gasping in breaths through her bruised throat, and watched a silvery light flicker in midair, then take on form.

Ada, but not Ada.The same image, but immaculate, perfectly groomed, and with an entirely blank expression.

“Welcome,” Ada said. “May I ask who you are?”

“Claire,” she said. “My name is Claire.”

“My name is—” Ada cocked her head and frowned. “I’m not quite sure. Addy?”

“Ada.”

“Ah yes. Ada.” Ada’s flat image smiled, but it was a fake kind of smile, with nothing behind it. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“You just got reset.”

“No, I know all about that. I don’t feel at all well, quite beyond that. There’s something very wrong with my mind.” Her image flickered, and a spasm of emotion flared across her perfect, blank face. “I’m scared, Claire. Can you fix me?”

“I—” Claire coughed. She was so tired, and she really, really hurt. “I don’t know.” She knew she sounded discouraged. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Oh,” Ada said softly. “I see. I really am broken, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“And I can’t be fixed.”

“No,” Claire said softly. “I’m sorry. I think—I think you’ve got brain damage. I don’t think you’re ever going to be right.”

Ada was silent for a moment, watching her, and then she said, “I loved him, you know. I really did.”

“I think he really loved you, too. That’s why he tried to hang on to you all these years.”

Ada nodded. “Please tell him that I still love him. And because I love him, I can’t take the risk that I might hurt him again.”

Claire had a very bad feeling. “What are you—”

“Just tell him.” Ada smiled, and it was a real smile. A sweet one. “Good-bye, Claire.”

And the panel at the wall blew up in arcs of electricity and flames and shredded metal, and Claire ducked and covered her head.

The lights went out.

Ada’s image flickered in place for a moment, and then she said, very quietly, “Tell Myrnin I’m sorry I hurt him.”

Then she was gone, and the low-level hum of the computer just . . . died.

Claire crouched there, trembling in the dark for a while and listening to the escaping hiss of steam. On one of the round screens on the computer, she saw Ada’s image appear. It moved to the next screen—and then to the next. It grew a little fainter every time.

Then Ada’s image faded to a single dot of white, and the screen went totally black.

Silence. Real, total silence.

Claire put her head on her upraised knees.

I’ll just take a nap, she thought, and then it all just went away for a while.

When she woke up, Amelie was standing in front of the silent, dead computer, one pale hand on the keyboard touching the metal and bone.

“We’ll have to get this ru

“Not really,” Claire said. “I don’t know what I am right now.”

“Your friends are coming.” Amelie’s tone was cool, and her face was a mask. Claire couldn’t tell anything about what she was feeling. “I called them.”

“Where’s Myrnin?”

Amelie’s gray eyes focused on her neck. “He bit you.”

“Well—a little.” Claire put her hand to the wound, and winced when it throbbed. “Is it bad?”

“You’ll live.” Amelie turned back to the keyboard. “I’m afraid Ada is beyond help. When the electrical power failed, the nutrients that sustained her organic remnants turned toxic.”

“She’s dead?”

“She was always dead, Claire. Now she is well beyond our attempts to revive her.” Amelie looked at her with cool, calm eyes. “Did you kill her?”

Claire swallowed. “No. I reset her, and she figured out that she couldn’t be fixed. She did it herself.” That seemed . . . sad, somehow. And a little bit brave. “Where’s Myrnin?”

“Here,” he said, and crouched down next to her, all long arms and legs, awkward and graceful at the same time. He was still wearing his black velvet coat. Claire fixed her gaze on the bloodstained, ragged hole in his left sleeve. Under it, the skin still looked red and torn. “I’m all right now. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” she lied. “Does it hurt?” she asked, because he was holding his arm at an odd angle.

“A little.” He was lying, too—a lot. “Claire—”

“No, don’t say you’re sorry. I know, you had to do it.”

“I was going to say thank you for stopping Ada. She always knew you would be the one to destroy her, you know.”

“What?” Claire rubbed at the headache forming between her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“She had taken it into her head that you were going to kill her,” Amelie said. “She believed it. So she tried to kill you first, and in doing so, she forced you to this. Unfortunately, it is a great deal of trouble for me; Ada was very valuable. Without her, we ca

“No more portals,” Myrnin said, and sighed.“No more barriers to keep people from leaving. And we won’t be able to track those who leave, at least for now.”

He turned away, looking at the computer, and for a moment—just a moment—Claire saw the agony clearly visible on his face. His hand was clenched, and as he opened it, she saw the locket she’d found in the box. Ada’s portrait. “Oh my dear,” he said, very softly. “What we did to each other . . . I am so very sorry.”

Amelie watched him and said nothing. Myrnin closed his eyes for a moment, then slipped the locket into his vest pocket and turned toward her, clearly making an effort to make himself seem normal again. As normal as Myrnin ever got. “Right. I’ll need a viable candidate to replace Ada. Do you have someone in mind?”

Amelie was still watching Claire. Claire swallowed.

“I do,” Amelie said softly. “But I think not quite yet. Let’s see where this takes us, Myrnin.”

Myrnin said, “I believe it will take us straight into trouble, if experience is any guide at all. Ah, there they are. Claire, your friends—”

She hardly had time to turn before Shane had her and was smothering her in a hug, then devouring her in a kiss, and even though she wasn’t exactly in the best possible shape, she felt a hot flush race through her veins to warm her whole body. “Hey,” Shane said, then gently combed her hair back from her face. “You look—”

He saw the bite mark, and froze.

Michael and Eve were right behind him, and Claire heard Eve make a fu

“I’m okay,” Claire said. “A little juice, a steak—I’ll be fine. It’s just like the blood bank. Right?”

Amelie exchanged a glance with Myrnin, then turned away. He said, “Absolutely,” and bounced to his feet to join Amelie at the hissing hulk of the computer. “Take a few days off. With pay.”

Shane’s face turned red. “You son of a—”

“Don’t,” Claire said, and put her hand on his cheek. “Shane. I need you. Don’t do that.”

“I need you, too,” he said. “I love you. And it is not okay.”

Myrnin didn’t look at either of them again. After a moment, though, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and came up with a small, portable hard drive.

SHANE & CLAIRE, it read in silver Sharpie.

“I think this is yours,” he said.

Claire felt a wave of weakness that had nothing to do with loss of blood. “Where did you get it?”