“I started toward you as soon as I got here. I don’t need the reminders any longer,” Paul says.

“Don’t need them?” I frown. Next to me, Theo sits up straighter.

“In the last dimension we visited, Triad has developed a way for its spies to remain in control throughout their trips. It’s this drug—damaging, and sometimes hard to get, so it’s not a permanent solution—but it works in short doses,” Paul says. “You can make it out of ordinary chemicals, easily found in almost any dimension you’d go to. They call it Nightthief. An injectable liquid, this brilliant green color—”

Paul keeps talking. I don’t hear a word.

Slowly I look down at Theo, who is looking directly at me. He doesn’t say anything; he knows I know.

Nightthief. The green liquid I saw Theo injecting in London. They’re one and the same.

Theo would never—

No. My Theo wouldn’t.

But this is not my Theo.

26

“NIGHTTHIEF CAUSES HALLUCINATIONS—INTENSE PAIN—but it buys you days of controlled consciousness. I knew I’d need to use it to reach you.” Paul continues speaking over the intercom, unaware that we can hear but are not listening.

I stare at Theo; he meets my gaze evenly, and in his face I see shame, but also relief. Like he’s thinking, At last she knows.

Everything in me rejects this. Theo wouldn’t. He’d never spy for Triad; he’d never hurt my family. He’d never hurt me.

My Theo really wouldn’t. But this isn’t my Theo, and it hasn’t been for a very long time.

Since before this journey began . . .

I scream even as Theo vaults toward me. “Paul, it’s Theo! Theo’s the spy!” But Theo snaps off the comm with one elbow as he pushes me back against the wall. I try to shove him off, but the sub is so small that I’m crumpled beneath him, unable to brace myself or get any leverage.

“Will you—just—will you listen? Okay?” Theo scrambles to keep me down, his forearms holding mine down. His brown eyes beseech me even as his weight bears down hard. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It was you the whole time. That’s why you had the Firebirds.” Of course—he didn’t keep the extras and “repair” them; this other Theo, from the dimension where Triad is one step ahead of us—he was able to use those materials to re-create their own superior technology. “You doctored Dad’s car and framed Paul for murder.”

“Guilty as charged, Meg.”

In his face I hiss, “Stop calling me that!”

Theo shoves me out of my seat, and we collapse onto the floor of the sub. I can feel the sub tilting downward—we’re going to run into the sand—but I can’t get him off me. His knees pin my legs down; his hands hold mine to the metal floor.

“Are you going to keep fighting me or are you going to listen?” He breathes out sharply, as if he’s the one who’s upset. “I can explain.”

“The hell you can.”

Theo presses down harder. His face is just above mine. “I came to your dimension three months ago. We knew your parents were on the verge of their breakthrough; as far as we know, you’re only the second dimension remotely comparable to ours to develop the tech. That meant we needed to form a strategic alliance.”

Three months ago is when he started using drugs, going AWOL for hours at a time, calling me Meg—acting different in every way. How could I not have seen it? Although I try to twist beneath him, I can hardly move. “Is this your idea—of—making friends?”

“Every alliance has a leader.” Theo’s expression truly looks more sad than angry. “Like every war has a general.”

“War? Are you even listening to yourself? Two dimensions can’t—go to war with each other! It’s insane.”

“Back in the day, they thought the invention of the airplane would make war impossible. You know, who could move troops in secret once people could look down from the air? But then someone thought of putting bombs in the planes, and everything changed. Every technology mankind invents, human beings turn against one another. It’s only a matter of time. If we don’t start the battle, another dimension will, and they might be a hell of a lot worse.”

I remember Conley’s speech in the Londonverse, about how warfare evolves along with us. That stops me short for a moment. I’m no less furious at Theo, but the idea of what could be out there—watching, waiting, looking for a moment to strike—

Theo nods, suddenly hopeful. “You see now, right? We have to band together. We have to take the power for ourselves, before it’s taken away from us.”

“Nobody’s threatening you.” My wrists hurt; his grip around them is harder than handcuffs. “You’re the ones who went on the attack. Don’t pretend you’re not.”

He keeps talking like I hadn’t said anything at all. “When I came over, at first I was supposed to slow your parents down a little bit—let us get a little farther ahead—but it was already too late for that. What I could do was create a traveler. A perfect traveler. You only get one chance per dimension, you know. Conley is ours. For your dimension, out of everyone else in the world, he chose you.”

“Wow. I feel really special,” I spit back at him. Literally—our faces are that close. The sub is rocking now, rudderless, the white crescent of sand tilting through the window. “So you let them kidnap Dad?”