Page 21

Ziva

The flickering glow of the lab’s monitors casts eerie light, stretching long shadows across the cluttered workbench. Marcus hunches over a workbench, his fingers restless. Myall gives me a subtle nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and dread.

During our shift today, I didn’t have much opportunity to check in with Myall and see how he was coping with his emotions resurfacing. But when we returned to the tech lab this evening, Myall and I quietly exchanged words while Marcus was occupied reviewing the notes I wrote down from last night.

Our plan is to persuade Marcus into letting me disable his NeuroMod.

Last night, I tried to bring up the idea to Marcus, but he seemed hesitant, and I felt it wasn’t best to push him just yet. But I need to know if how we recreated that glitch isn’t a total fluke and the only way to know for certain is to test it again, on Marcus.

“We need to talk about your NeuroMod, Marcus,” I say, my heart fluttering with nervous energy.

“What about it?” His shoulders tense as if weighed down by invisible chains, his breath hitching slightly.

I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “I can disable it. Just like I did for Myall and myself.”

As I voice my intentions, my heart beats rapidly, a mix of hope and dread swirling within me. What if Marcus rejects this? What if I’ve pushed too far?

Marcus’s dark eyes widen, darting between Myall and me. “I…I’m not sure that’s wise just yet.”

“Why not?” Myall’s voice is low, urgent, but I catch the slight tremor in his hand as he gestures, a telltale sign of the anxiety bubbling beneath his calm facade. “It’s overwhelming at first, but—”

“Overwhelming?” Marcus interrupts, panic edging into his voice. He tugs at his short-cropped hair, conflict etched on his face. I can see the faint remnants of the boy he once was, buried beneath layers of fear and conditioning. What does he truly want? Can he even remember?

Out of the three of us, Marcus is the only one who was old enough to truly comprehend the events that unfolded when The Authority seized power. I assume he’s about the same age as our parents and I wonder what emotional wounds the NeuroMod has been masking for Marcus all these years.

“It’s not just about feeling everything again,” I say, leaning in. “It’s about being human. About connecting in ways The Authority can never control.”

Marcus’s gaze shifts to Myall, who gives a small, encouraging nod. I hold my breath, watching the internal struggle play out on Marcus’s features.

He exhales shakily. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Relief floods through me, mingled with a surge of adrenaline that quickens my heartbeat, yet there’s a gnawing regret in the pit of my stomach, a shadow of doubt about whether this is the right choice for Marcus.

I gather the supplies, my fingers trembling as I sift through the tools. The sharp click of metal breaks the silence. Myall and Marcus watch me intently as I prepare to recreate the glitch.

“This might feel strange at first,” I warn as I maneuver Marcus’s wrist into position. “Try to stay calm.”

Marcus nods, his jaw tight. His pulse throbs visibly in his neck, his breath shallow and uneven. Myall moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on Marcus’s shoulder.

“You’ve got this,” Myall murmurs. “Remember, it’s just the real you coming back.”

I tune his words out, focusing on recreating the glitch and the familiar sequence of commands that are easier to replicate this time.

“Almost there,” I mutter, more to myself than the others.

As I input the final command, Marcus gasps, his breath hitching in his throat.

His eyes widen, pupils dilating as a whirlwind of feelings cascades over him—fear, confusion, and an undeniable spark of joy.

His brows lift in disbelief, struggling to reconcile the flood of emotions with the numbness he’s known.

“How do you feel?” I ask, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.

Marcus opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, a single tear slides down his cheek, and I realize that this might be the first time he’s cried real tears in years. It trembles on his skin before dropping to the floor, a poignant reminder of the emotions he has long suppressed.

Marcus’s hands tremble as he touches his face, feeling the wetness of his tears. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he struggles to process the flood of emotions vying for dominance within him. I can see the conflict raging within him.

“I… I feel everything,” he chokes out, his voice raw and unfamiliar. “It’s so intense. I didn’t know… I’d forgotten…” His words stumble over each other in a jumbled mess.

He sways slightly, caught in the emotional storm, and I worry he might collapse under the weight. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, a futile attempt to ground himself amid the chaos.

I reach out instinctively, but hesitate, the air between us thick with unsaid words. Touch feels heavier now, more meaningful than it ever was before. Myall seems to sense my uncertainty and steps in, gripping Marcus’s shoulder more firmly.

“Take deep breaths,” Myall instructs, his tone gentle but steady. “It’s overwhelming at first, but you’ll adjust.”

Marcus nods, his eyes darting around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “The colors… they’re so vibrant. And I can notice the air on my skin. It’s… it’s too much.”

He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at it slightly as if to ground himself. The sight stirs something in me—a mix of empathy and an odd sense of longing. I push the feeling aside, focusing on keeping Marcus calm.

I’ve managed to replicate the glitch, which means I can now help others. We just need to figure out a way to persuade them to let me deactivate their NeuroMods.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” Marcus says suddenly, his voice strained, cutting through my thoughts. “I need… I need to process this. Alone.”

Myall and I exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between us.

We both understand Marcus’ need for solitude, but there’s also an unspoken desire to stay, neither of us ready to part ways for the night.

I’m not sure Marcus will want us staying here alone for a second night—it’s his hideout, after all.

“Of course,” I say aloud, forcing a reassuring smile. “We’ll pack up here and get you home to rest.”

As Marcus gathers his things, his movements jerky and unsure, I catch Myall’s eye again.

A slight nod, a raised eyebrow—it’s enough.

We’ll meet back here later, after Marcus is safely home.

The thought sends a thrill through me, a mixture of anticipation and fear that I’m quickly becoming addicted to.

“Myall, you’d better leave first,” Marcus says as he reaches the door, his voice thick gruff almost. “I’ll go next, then Ziva.”

Myall simply nods and slips out the door. Alone with Marcus, I ask “Are you sure you’re going to be alright? I know it’s a lot to process at first.”

Marcus turns to face me and it’s clear that he is struggling with the sudden onslaught of his emotions. I feel guilty for forcing him to have his NeuroMod disabled but I needed to be sure that recreating the glitch for Myall’s NeuroMod wasn’t a fluke.

“I think I just need some space to work through all these emotions in private,” is all he says before he slips out the door.

As the door closes behind him, I count to one hundred and then leave the tech lab, just in case Marcus is waiting for me out the front of the building.

Once outside, I force myself to walk at a normal pace, even as my pulse hammers in my chest. My eyes dart nervously over the city’s shadowed streets, alert for any cameras tracking my movements. I head toward my unit, the familiar streets feeling unfamiliar in my heightened state.

Inside, I go through the motions of my evening routine, counting the minutes in my head. As I brush my teeth, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are too bright, my cheeks flushed. I steady my breathing, willing my features into something neutral.

Calm down, Ziva.

After what feels like forever, though it’s only been about five minutes, I decide it’s safe to leave.

I slip out of the unit, blending into the shadows as I make my way back to the lab.

Every sound makes me jump—a distant siren, a drone’s whir.

My skin prickles as if unseen eyes are watching from the dark.

As I approach the doorway to the building, my heart pounds in my chest, threatening to betray me.

I scan the dimly lit street, my eyes darting to every shadow.

Guilt tightens in my chest, but I force it back.

There’s no time for second-guessing now.

I inhale slowly, trying to ground myself.

With trembling fingers, I key in the access code and slip inside.

The lab is dark and quiet, but I can sense Myall’s presence before I see him. He steps out of the shadows, and the look on his face makes my breath catch.

“You came back,” he says softly, relief evident in his voice.

I nod, unable to speak for a moment as I catch my breath. “Any trouble getting back here?” I finally manage to ask.

He answers with a faint smile, his eyes betraying the weight of his exhaustion.“Took a roundabout way, just to be safe. You?”

“Same,” I reply, moving closer. “I kept expecting to run into Marcus around every corner,” I say, trying to laugh.

Myall raises an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you didn’t want to bump into him?” he teases, his grin making my heart skip.

“Very funny.” I say, “I know he needed some space to process his emotions, but I can’t shake this paranoid feeling that he’s going to walk back in and catch us here when we said we were going home.”

I want to lean in, to close that gap, but fear makes my legs feel heavy, as if the world outside could come crashing in at any moment.