After another cycle of replaying the memories, the screen went dark.

Blackburn sat there in the dimness, staring where the images had just been. He spoke for the first time in hours. “Who else knows about this?”

“Vik, kind of. I told him about it, but he didn’t believe me.”

Blackburn regarded him searchingly. “This really means nothing to you, does it? You don’t have the slightest understanding of the magnitude of this. You did something that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Sure, I know being able to interface with other tech is … it’s something. I just haven’t really thought about it much, uh, or really sat down and figured out what that something could be.”

Blackburn’s gray-eyed gaze slid back and forth between Tom and the census device. “So you’re ready to talk about this. You weren’t hiding these memories. What exactly were you concealing during the culling, then?”

“Just private stuff, okay?”

But Blackburn was stroking his chin, eyes on him, speculative. “I looked into your records, Raines. You never had a psych screening before coming here. That’s standard procedure, did you know that?”

“Uh, I hadn’t heard, no.”

“A trainee who was recruited even though he has no relevant background,” Blackburn murmured to himself, turning back to face the screen. “A trainee with no education, no screening tests, no medical records …”

“My dad always moved us around, and I’ve never even been that sick, that’s why! I haven’t needed a hospital since I was born.”

“And now this. How does it connect?”

“Freak coincidence, sir. Are we done here?”

Blackburn turned on him suddenly. “Have you ever had dealings with Obsidian Corp? Or a man named Joseph Vengerov?”

Tom’s brain flickered back to the Beringer Club.

“You have,” Blackburn breathed, seeing his face. A light stole into his eyes. “When?”

“It didn’t have to do with this.”

“Show me,” Blackburn demanded, turning the census device back on.

Tom started to give the memory. Vengerov and Dalton appeared on the screen, and Vengerov was looking at Tom and speaking those words, “And how is this project coming?”

And then he realized it: they’d been talking about his reprogramming. Blackburn would never let that rest either. He’d want to know the whole story of a Coalition company messing with a trainee’s neural processor.

And it would lead to Wyatt giving him the firewall.

And that would lead to Yuri’s firewall, and their treason.

It could lead to Wyatt down here, strapped in for a culling. Then Yuri, getting his mind torn apart. It could lead to prison for both of them, and probably for Tom, too, because he was covering for them.

He couldn’t let it happen. He forced his mind away from the memory.

“What are you doing?” Blackburn demanded when the image froze.

Tom was sitting in the chair, his eyes screwed shut, realizing there was no way he could do this. He thought of Wyatt again, and wondered how much worse it would be for her—after she’d trusted Blackburn, after Blackburn had turned on her … “No, I’m not showing that one.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.” Tom opened his eyes, determined. “We had a deal: once I showed you the other memories, we’d be done. Well, I showed you all of them. We’re done here.”

“First, Vengerov.”

“No.”

“I want the rest, Raines.”

“No!”

Blackburn closed the distance between them, looking like some psycho from a horror movie in the projected light of the census device. “You will show me that memory, Raines!”

“I WON’T! It has nothing to do with this!”

When Blackburn moved in to tie him down again, Tom’s self-control vanished. He kicked wildly out at him. Blackburn’s fist flew toward his face, a ringing blow connected with Tom’s jaw, sending him reeling back into the chair. He recovered his bearings as the straps were already tightening on his wrists again, and he desperately tried to escape, but they trapped him in the chair.

Blackburn backed away from him. “So here it is. You have a choice, Raines.” The projected image of Vengerov rippled over his face like he was some distorted mirror. “Either you show me the rest of that memory willingly, or I cull it out of you. So help me, I’m going to see it if I have to rip apart your mind to get it.”

Tom gritted his teeth, his face feeling numb from the blow. “Come on, why aren’t you listening to me? It has nothing to do with any of this!”

“Have it your way.”

His tone sounded like a death sentence. He activated the culling and set it to full power. The lights blared into Tom’s temples and eradicated the world around him.

Tom slammed his head back into the headrest so hard prongs of pain jolted up his neck, and the restraints on his wrists scoured his skin. Memory after memory passed by, terrible things that felt like organs ripped from his body.

Hours of it dragged by, as the memories flittered from one subject to another. Sometimes, a particularly nasty one hit him like he’d just broken some bone he hadn’t been aware of before. He swam back to awareness when Blackburn began pressing a cup to his lips around 2000. “You must be thirsty.”

On the screen: Tom was nine and trying to sleep on a bench at a bus station, but Neil stood in the middle of the morning crowd, still drunk from the night before, railing stupidly at people walking past him, “Going off to vote Milgram today? He’s Obsidian’s man. Or Wantube? He’s owned by Dominion!”

He didn’t want anything from Blackburn. He tried twisting his head away, but Blackburn caught his jaw firmly and poured—and as soon as the water touched his tongue, Tom realized he was dying of thirst. He swallowed huge mouthfuls as … His father kept ranting at people hurrying by him. “Ha! Either way you vote Coalition! Don’t you get it? You aren’t making a choice! Doesn’t anyone else see that?”

Blackburn set the glass back down as the policeman came over. Neil ranted, “What do you mean, public disturbance? Is freedom of speech a public disturbance now?” Tom sat up from his bench, realizing where this was going....

“This is needless, Raines. Why are you fighting me?”

Tom stared at Blackburn’s fatigues, where the projected light was now playing the image of Neil brawling with three policemen. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see his dad get tasered like the last time.

“What hold does Vengerov have over you?” Blackburn said, lowering himself down before Tom’s chair, far too close. “Money? Threats? Blackmail? You can tell me. There has to be something.”

Tom could hear his father roaring in anger. He heaved in great breaths, suddenly feeling like he was drowning, his dad yelling on-screen and Blackburn pressing in before him.

“This ability you have … Is that the project he mentioned? Vengerov is obviously involved somehow. Is this Obsidian Corp’s next great experiment? Is that why he got your screenings waived?” Anger lined his voice. “Just tell me, Raines. A trillionaire doesn’t need the protection of a fourteen-year-old boy!”