Emergent (A Beta Novel) (16 page)

She says, “My life on Demesne was so sheltered. I want new experiences. I want to learn this thing called ‘mosh.’”

Xander stifles a laugh and places a protective arm on her shoulder. “This isn’t the place for new experiences. A mosh is meant for going wild, for losing inhibitions. Not advisable
in your condition.”

She brushes his arm aside. “I don’t care. And don’t tell me what to do.” She steps past Xander into the Mosh Cave, leaving him outside.

I’m trying so hard not to like my clone, but she’s making it difficult.

I emerge from the shadows. “Your girlfriend’s got spunk,” I say to Xander.

“Wonder where she got that from.” He gestures to the wall, which is reverberating the loud music. “Thanks for giving her this horrendously bad idea. Are you going in
there?”

“I was planning to.” I step closer to him, almost bumping directly into him. “If you’ll get out of my way. Unless you want to come in?”

“Not my scene,” says Xander. “You invited her here, so you should keep watch on her. Make sure she isn’t harmed.”

“If you’re so worried, go in yourself. What’s the problem? Aquines don’t mosh?”

“
I
don’t mosh.”

“You should.”

“What’s the appeal? Loud music, hedonistic behavior.”

“Exactly! Plus, Defect Destruction is playing tonight.”

“Who?”

“Heathen’s biggest pop-punk stars. The only ones, in fact! Made up of Emergents who spend their days training for Insurrection and their nights practicing or performing. They used to
be members of the Replicant Symphony Orchestra on Demesne.”

Xander says, “I heard that orchestra play when I was on Demesne! They were actually pretty good.”

“So go on in. I guarantee you they’re better here. They traded in their tuxes and violins for feral wear and amplified guitars.”

“No Mozart?” There’s a tiny little smile that wants to grow bigger on his face. I can tell that Xander wants to have fun. Why can’t he just let it happen?

“Not unless Mozart composed two-minute punk songs that are amplified and nutso.”

We can feel the music’s bass line thump through the wall. It’s probably not just the beat of my heart from Xander’s proximity.

“Sounds terrible,” says Xander. “That kind of pointless behavior is exactly one of the reasons the Aquines cloistered themselves from the rest of humanity.” I know he
doesn’t mean it. But this is his quandary to figure out, not mine. To have fun, or not to have fun. The eternal Aquine question. Be a genetically engineered, perfect bore, or not be a
genetically engineered, perfect bore. Sometimes I wonder what his holy appeal to me ever was. Then I look at his obscenely perfect body and face, and remember. Yes, I am that shallow. Want.

“Whatever, old man,” I say.

My chest bumps directly into his muscle-pecs, as I try to force him to step aside so I can go through the entranceway. For a moment, our hips touch, and his hands instinctively reach around my
waist, sizzling the skin beneath my shirt. I look up to his face, and turn my mouth just so. Xander could kiss me if he wants. I know he wants. I can feel his heat pressing into me. I’m
sending it back.

I shouldn’t want to kiss someone who has treated me so callously. Maybe I just want him to want me, so I can have a turn rejecting him. Or maybe I want him so she can’t have him.

“Z-Dev,” Xander murmurs, and my heart sings. His eyes close, his lips part. Can he, too, not resist the pull? But a push comes from the other side, and two Emergents burst through
from the Mosh Cave, separating us. It’s Aidan, leading a drunken Emergent outside and away from the mosh, separating me from Xander. The Emergent punches his fist into the open air, and
proclaims, “Defect Destruction!” He then pukes at Xander’s feet.

I ignore the barfer and walk past the men and into the Mosh Cave.

Xander can handle the situation himself. He made this mess. He can clean it up.

Alive within the mosh, there is loud, angry, pulsing music, along with a sea of bodies jumping together, exhilarated, free.

And there is a pregnant teen clone being crowd-surfed across a wave of thrashing Emergents while the punk-slam clone band Defect Destruction rages onstage. Their song of the moment is
“Lusardi Must Die.” It’s a big hit here on Heathen.

“She’s
amazing
,” I hear a body-bearer call up to Elysia.

“Our
miracle
,” says another.

Elysia is one helluva trusting Emergent to let her fellow moshers pass her around on raised arms across the mosh pit, but she seems to love it. She tips her head back, looking directly at me,
and smiles. Her smile is so bright, so much more charismatic than I could ever achieve on my identical face. She flashes me a thumbs-up sign, and I flash a thumbs-up sign back to her.
Party to
your heart’s content, girl! Xander hates party girls. You know that, right?

If this is the beginning of Elysia’s Awfuls, I have to admit: I like this incarnation of Elysia. Not like we could be pals or anything, but she looks truly
alive
rather than
resigned
. She looks like the version of me I like the most. Open. Dangerous. Exhilarated.

Aidan returns inside the Mosh Cave, looking toward the stage and not like he’s looking for me. Last night, he held me through the night in our tree house. Tonight, will he dance with me in
the mosh pit? Ha, doubt it. Like Xander, loud music and moshing is not Aidan’s scene. But I wouldn’t mind thrashing around the pit with him, sweaty and angsty and gross and full of
energy and rage and heat. Wow. I don’t think I’d mind that at all. I start to approach Aidan, resolved: I am going to get Aidan to have some fun tonight! And then Aidan is going to do
more than just hold me later tonight!

But I can only hope for such a time with Aidan. He doesn’t see my approach, and instead, he urgently walks to the stage, like he’s trying to stop the music. He stands before Defect
Destruction’s drummer, gesturing the drummer to stop. The drummer ignores Aidan, who then grabs the drumsticks from the drummer’s hand. The drummer stands up and responds with a punch
to Aidan’s jaw while the rest of Defect Destruction continue playing, and Elysia continues dancing, and I watch the scene in bewilderment and a bit of concern. Aidan recoils slightly from the
punch, then returns a much harder jab to the drummer’s vined temple. The drummer falls to the ground. The bass player plays on, even as Aidan snatches the lead singer’s guitar from the
singer’s hands. The skinny singer slams his body against Aidan’s in protest, but he is no match for Aidan’s brute abs of steel. Aidan takes the hit as if no hit came his way, then
turns to the bassist, who gets the message and finally stops playing, drops his bass to the ground, and runs off the stage. Aidan takes center stage and addresses the moshers.

“Hovercopters are flying overhead. Ships have surrounded the island. Soldiers are ambushing.” He looks around to the group, takes a deep breath, and then announces, “The time
for Insurrection is
now
!”

THERE’S NO TIME TO PANIC
or form a plan. There’s only time to run.

Smoke quickly fills the Mosh Cave as an Emergent cries out, “FIRE!”

Hell on Heathen. It’s here, now. Insurrection was supposed to involve the Emergents storming their native island. First, we’ll have to storm our way out of the Rave Caves, which have
been lit with firebombs.

Aidan and Xander lead the way, herding the group out of the Mosh Cave. Elysia and I, gasping for breath, follow the Emergents’ desperate steps toward the exit point. As we file out of the
pit, I pick up a band member’s discarded shirt on the floor and hand it to Elysia. “Put it over your mouth and nose,” I instruct her. Everyone is in danger in this situation. But
she’s got a baby in her belly to protect too.

When we emerge from the main cave entrance, the smell of smoke and aura of fear permeate the air. The black sky is brightened with orange and yellow embers: our tree houses. The invaders have
set the jungle on fire.

We’re trapped.

Adrenaline courses through my body, an instinctual panic. Yet my mind feels strangely calm. I’ve survived death already. Whatever is happening is not good, but I can handle it. With Aidan
leading them, the Emergents can handle it. I’m sure of it.

Quickly, Aidan chooses eight of the strongest Emergents and points toward the jungle. “Go!” he commands them. “Find out—”

But Xander calls out, “Wait! There could be—”

Too late. The Emergents, taking Aidan’s order, run toward the trees but are immediately halted by an invisible perimeter, a magnetic force field that zaps the first wave of soldiers. They
fall to the ground, vanquished. I’m not sure if they’re dead or just knocked out.

“What’s happening?” Elysia asks me.

“Stay calm and do what Aidan says,” I advise her. “We’re under siege.” I clutch her body to mine, feeling her own quickening heartbeat, but she loosens from my
grip. I can’t protect her, of course—but I want her to feel protected.

“I can handle it,” she says, exuding
confidence
. “Let me see.” But her fuchsia eyes reflect the same
fear
I feel. “This is Insurrection?” she
asks.

“I’m afraid so,” I say.

Bright lights suddenly beam down from high above, lighting us like targets, as the attackers emerge from behind the trees. We’re immediately surrounded by soldiers, aiming rifles at us
from all points. But these are not ordinary Uni-Mil soldiers. They are too tall, at least eight feet—all of them the same exact height. Their uniforms display a corporate logo, with the word
REPLICAPHARM
placed under the RP logo. Their red laser eyes scan from beneath their helmets.

Xander warns Aidan, “These ReplicaPharm soldiers are androids. They’re not copied from humans. There’s no chance for them to have souls. They’ll have no hesitation or
remorse about shooting to kill.”

The other Emergents’ chips won’t tell them that, and those not in earshot of Aidan and Xander are not warned in time. Without command from Xander or Aidan, three different Emergents
act on instinct, charging toward the soldiers to engage in battle. The Emergents are immediately shot dead.

Now my mind is not so calm. It’s a blur of confusion and terror. The intent of the ambush is clearly bloodshed, immediate and direct. This is bad. Really bad. Who’s next? Once, I
watched two fellow runaways die beside me in the ocean, but that was an accident. This is murder, and we are bearing witness to it and could be next, and this ambush is too sudden and horrific for
us to even remotely know how we’re supposed to react and still remain safe.

Elysia and I gasp in shock at the same time. She grabs my hand, clenching so hard she could easily squeeze the life out of me. I let her clench as hard as she needs; it’s a welcome
reminder that we’re both at least still alive.

Xander faces the remaining Emergents. “Stand down, Emergents!” he implores them. “These soldiers will kill, not fight!”

“Fight!” Aidan challenges the Emergents instead. Another wave of five Emergents charges toward the soldiers, who, instead of shooting them, lift the Emergents from the ground and
effortlessly fling them into the air like missiles, launching them directly into the fireballs in the distance.

“Where’s the enemy’s leader?” Elysia whispers to me, perhaps expecting that the soldier’s daughter should know.

I don’t. I’m hoping whoever it is appears immediately, to end the counter-commands of Aidan and Xander. “I think we’re about to find out,” I say to Elysia.

A hologram man emerges in the center of the area, a human man, late middle age, with a full head of thick black hair. He’s clean-shaven and dressed in a sharp, dark gray suit. He looks
like a businessman, not like a soldier.

“Greetings, Defects,” he announces. Not a guy who knows how to warm a crowd. “I am Dimitri Kelos, vice president of mergers and acquisitions for ReplicaPharm, addressing you
from our head office in Geneva. I hereby inform you that ReplicaPharm has acquired Demesne, and therefore, has acquired you too.” There are cries of “No!” from the Emergents but
Kelos tamps his hands down to quiet them. “It’s not your option to protest. Demesne has been sold to ReplicaPharm. You were the former owners’ property; now you are ours. The
corporation has bought the entire island chain and also the surrounding airspace. Hereafter, no one—not even the Uni-Mil—will be allowed entrance to Demesne without permission from
ReplicaPharm.”

What will become of us?
None of the Emergents speak the question aloud, but it’s visible on all their faces. Fear of returning to Demesne and the tyranny they left behind may be
greater than their fear of death right now.

What will become of
me
? I can’t fathom a life back in Cerulea after all I’ve been through. I could never bring my clone back with me. I can’t leave her unless I know
she’s safe, I realize. And she will never be safe under the control of Demesne humans. I’m as trapped as the Emergents.

Are we all about to be killed?

Kelos continues. “Pursuant to the recent settlement agreement with the Replicant Rights Commission, ReplicaPharm has voluntarily decided to move its clone manufacturing operations to
Demesne in order to spare so many troubled cities the unseemly and unnecessary protests against ReplicaPharm’s many offices. The prior owners on Demesne have been bought out and have left the
island, so congratulations on that. Your Insurrection scared them enough to pave the way for their exit, and our entry. As part of its move to Demesne, the corporation has acquired the clones
created from Firsts on Demesne. You are the last of your breed; clones manufactured from Firsts have been outlawed from here on out.”