Скотт Вестерфельд: Specials

His eyebrows went up. "She sent you a message for me?"

"Yeah. 'I love you…'" Tally swallowed again. "She said to say that. So maybe she knows where you are, after all."

"Maybe so."

"You randoms can be awfully predictable," Tally said, smiling. She'd been watching him closely, her eyes cataloging all his imperfections, the asymmetry of his features, the pores of his skin, his too-big nose. His scar.

He wasn't an ugly anymore; to her he was just David. And maybe he had been right. Maybe she didn't have to do this alone.

David hated cities, after all. He didn't know how to use an interface or call a hovercar, and his handmade clothes would always look pretty bogus at a bash. And he certainly wasn't cut out to live in a place where people had snakes for pinkies.

Most important, Tally knew that no matter how her plan turned out, whatever awful things the world forced her to do, David would remember who she really was.

"I have this idea," she said.

"About where you're going next?"

"Yeah." Tally nodded. "It's kind of this plan … to save the world."

David paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, the SpagBol slithering off them and back into the container. His face shifted through emotions, as easy to read as any ugly's: confusion, curiosity, then a hint of understanding. "Can I help?" he asked simply.

She nodded. "Please. You're the right man for the job."

And then she explained everything.

That night, she and David hoverboarded to the very edge of the city, slowing to a halt when the repeater network picked up her skintenna. The three messages from Shay, Pens, and Maddy were still there, waiting for her. Tally flexed her fingers nervously.

"Look at that!" David said, pointing.

The skyline of New Pretty Town was aglow, rockets shooting high and bursting into vast, sparkling flowers of red and purple. The fireworks were back.

Maybe they were celebrating the end of Dr. Cable's rule, or the new transformations sweeping through the city or the end of the war. Or perhaps this display marked the final days of Special Circumstances, now that the last Special had run off into the wild.

Or maybe they were just acting like bubbleheads again.

She laughed. "You've seen fireworks before, haven't you?"

He shook his head. "Not very many. They're amazing."

"Yeah. Cities aren't so bad, David." Tally smiled, hoping that the nightly fireworks displays had returned now that the war was ending. With all the convulsions about to unsettle her city, maybe that one tradition should never change. The world needed more fireworks—especially now that there was going to be a shortage of beautiful, useless things.

As she prepared herself to speak, a shiver of nerves played through Tally. Whether she was a Special-head or not, this message needed to come out icy and convincing. The world depended on it.

Then suddenly, she was ready.

As they stood there watching New Pretty Town glow, their eyes tracking the slow ascent of the rockets and their sudden blossoming, Tally spoke clearly over the water's roar, letting the chip in her jaw catch her words.

She sent them all—Shay, Maddy, and Peris—the same reply…

I don't need to be cured. Just like I don't need to cut myself to feel, or think. From now on, no one rewires my mind but me.

Back in Diego, the doctors said that I could learn to control my behavior, and I have. You all helped, in one way or another.

But you know what? It's not my behavior I'm worried about anymore. It's yours.

That's why you won't be seeing me for a while, maybe a long time. David and I are staying out here in the wild.

You all say you need us. Well, maybe you do, but not to help you. You have enough help, with the millions of bubbly new minds about to be unleashed, with all the cities coming awake at last. Together, you're more than enough to change the world without us.

So from now on, David and I are here to stand in your way.

You see, freedom has a way of destroying things.

You have your New Smokes, your new ideas, whole new cities and New Systems. Well…we're the new Special Circumstances.

Whenever you push too far into the wild, we'll be here waiting, ready to push back. Remember us every time you decide to dig a new foundation, dam a river, or cut down a tree. Worry about us. However hungry the human race becomes now that the pretties are waking up, the wild still has teeth. Special teeth, ugly teeth. Us.

We'll be out here somewhere—watching. Ready to remind you of the price the Rusties paid for going too far.

I love you all. But it's time to say good-bye, for now.

Be careful with the world, or the next time we meet, it might get ugly.

—Tally Youngblood

SCOTT WESTERFELD's teen novels include The Last Days, an ALA Best Book for Young Adults and the sequel to Peeps; So Yesterday, an ALA Best Book for Young Adults; and the Midnighters trilogy. Scott was born in Texas, and alternates summers between Sydney, Australia, and New York City. Visit his website at www.scottwesterfeld.com.