False Sight (13 page)

open my eyes and find they belong to Rhys Noble, but something is different. There’s no emotion. I am not partially becoming the person, like I did with Mrs. North and

Noble sits at a desk inside an office. Through his eyes I see him scrawling something on a notepad. Some kind of formula. The door opens, but he keeps scratching out numbers and letters.

He finishes writing, then looks up. And freezes. A woman stands in front of his desk, wearing a dark hooded vest and a mask over her nose and mouth. Her face is in deep shadow.

“Can I help you?” he says.
“Rhys Noble you are a man of reason and logic. I am short on time. Do not speak until I am done. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Noble says.
“There was another world like this,” she begins. “They had people and cars and a blue sky and vast oceans.”
Noble sits in utter silence, listening to the intruder as she tells him about a world, Gane’s world, that was a little more advanced than ours. They were on the moon in 1941, Mars in 1949. The world grew and soon the people were living too long. Then they were living indefinitely, and the planet’s popu- lation began to grow impossibly fast. Scientists were danger- ously close to discovering the Black...and the means to travel through it. Wars I’ve never heard of broke out—the Indian War, and the War at Home, which turned into the American War. It ravaged the lands and made clean water scarce.
One day a hole opened in Central Park. It was 1973.
At this point I remember something Mrs. North said to me, just seconds before I escaped her.
“There is no escaping True Earth,”
she told me.
True Earth had decided Gane’s world had grown too big, too powerful, too corrupt, too advanced. They were considered a threat. Aggressive worlds with means to travel through the Black would not be tolerated. The people still fought in wars over menial things like land or religion—something True Earth had done away with centuries ago. So True Earth sent the eyeless through and pared the world down to the basics again. The plan was to remove the humans in such a way that left the world unharmed. After all, what was the point of conquering a world if you left it in ruins? Except the humans fought back with weapons that blackened the sky and scorched the land. Then they died, and the eyeless went to the hills until they were needed for the next world.
Thewomangoes outoffocusslightly, andIrealizeNobleis tearing up. “Bullshit. We’re here to bring peace to this world. These kids are going to
end war
.”
“They’re going to
make war
,” the woman says. “True Earth sent you here almost forty years ago to start the process that will cleanse your world. You grew up here to learn its intricacies. Your Roses grew up here for the same reason.”
“I don’t believe you. Who are you?”
She ignores him. “It’s a new tactic, Noble, that’s all. We lost the last world to war. This one will be ripe for resettlement. The Roses will herd the population with fear, then the eyeless will kill them efficiently. No war, just slaughter. Like herding sheep for wolves. And once the psychic energy fades, only a pristine, human-free world will remain. Most importantly, the world will no longer be a threat to True Earth.”
“Why are they doing this?” Noble says. He believes her now. I can hear the resignation in his voice.
“To make sure they are the only world worth anything. That no one will ever challenge them for space or resources. To make sure no world surpasses them or threatens their control, for they believe no world is better suited to lead or police. The world with the blackened sky I spoke of was not the first to die, and it won’t be the last. Like the last world, your people are seen as corrupt, fighting over natural resources and religion. But even if none of that were true, your society is advancing at a rate that will soon make the discovery of the Black pos- sible, which they fear because you’ll be able to reach out and touch them.”
She takes a step forward.
“I am here because your world is next, Rhys Noble. I am one of the ruling five of True Earth.”
“Then why are you telling me this? Who are you? You’re not Miranda....You’re...”
She holds her hands out, palms up. A welcoming gesture. “You know my name.”
Noble shakes his head. “Take off the mask.”
The woman sighs and pulls down her hood, revealing a cascade of black hair. Then she tugs the mask down around her neck. She’s not a woman at all, but a girl of about seventeen. “Do you know me now?”
“Yes. Hello, Olivia.” Noble’s tone changes, like he’s sud- denly realized he’s talking to royalty.
It’s like seeing a ghost in the flesh. I can’t help but relive the moment my Olive caught a bullet in the crown of Key Tower. She was dead before any of us realized what happened. She deserved more.
“I helped put you in this world, Noble. But now I want to help you save it. I’m gathering people to fight back. Do you know the role the Original Miranda has in my world?”
“She’s the director of True Earth. I’ve never met her. I’ve never met any of you. We were just
put
here, with a mission you’re now telling me is false.”
“The director already has an agent among you,” Olivia says. “One who knows the truth. Who among your peers do you trust the least?”
“Miranda,” he says without hesitation. “Mrs. North, the kids call her.” He rubs at his temples and takes a deep breath. “I haven’t trusted her since we were kids.”
“Then your instincts are correct. The director only trusts her own clones. Not even me, and I’m nearly her equal.” “My colleagues,” Noble says. “Do they know the truth?”
“I can’t be sure who is and who isn’t aware of your true purpose.”
“And my Original? The Rhys I come from?”
“He is like the others. I am the only one fighting back, in secret.”
Olivia lifts her hood and settles it on her head. She pulls a black, bulky glove from her pocket and wiggles her left hand intoit. Thenshekneelsand points herfingernearthefloor,like she’s pressing an invisiblebutton six inches off the ground.The glovegives offa metallic,high-pitchedwhine. Rising, shedraws a fast circle in the air, kneeling again to complete the shape. A black hole snaps into existence, with no sound, inside the bor- der of the circle she drew. Staring into it gives me vertigo. It is utter emptiness and infinity at the same time. It is the Black.
“Come with me,” she says.
The Black hovers for several moments before Noble moves. It doesn’t vibrate or shimmer; it just waits for them, a patient mouth that feels older than time itself.
Finally Noble rises and crosses the room. Olive takes his hand, and together they step through.

The next second, Noble is standing on the sidewalk in a city I now recognize. I see the blackened sky, the ruined streets. This is Gane’s New York.
Noble swears softly. “What is this?”
“The future of your world, if you do nothing.” “Why me?” Noble says.
In the middle of an intersection up ahead, I see two humanshaped things hunched over something in the road. A dead deer, it looks like. Their skin is milk-white.

The two creatures notice Noble and Olivia. They go per - fectly still.
“Why me?” Noble says again. “Jesus, what are those things?”
“Why you? Because of all the Originals, Rhys gives Miranda the most trouble. He’s the most combative and the least likely to agree with her. I wondered if I might find that in you. It wasn’t until I got to your office that I was sure you were uncorrupted.”
“What do I do?” he says quickly. He looks at the Black behind him, as if checking to make sure it’s still ready for him to leap through. The portal waits patiently.
The two creatures are now coming closer.
“You can’t kill your colleague Miranda. She’s too well protected for that, as her Original’s chosen. And it won’t stop what’s coming. One day the director will send Nina, the clone she raised as her daughter, to gather the eyeless and join your teams. Then the end will begin.”
The eyeless are coming closer now; at first I didn’t know it was them, but now I can see their faces.
“Will you join the rebellion?” she asks.
“Yes,” Noble says.

“What did you see?” Peter asks me, but Noble just hands the memory band to him. Once Peter is finished, his blue eyes will be gone forever. But Peter just lies down and slides the band over his head.

“We’ll have to get you some contacts, for at home,” Rhys says. “You’re part of the vampire club now.” He’s feeding one of the horses some hay.

“I have to see this,” is all Peter says. He inhales softly as the machine turns on.
I turn to Noble. “How did you end up working for Gane?”
“Simple,” he says. “Olivia got me a place in the Red Guard, which is the police unit that still functions in this world. It’s the only place where I can monitor the Black closely. And the last place True Earth would look for me.”
He’s about to say more when Sophia walks up to us. “Come with me, Miranda,” she says. “I need to retrieve something before dusk.”

I’m on the gray-white horse, whose name is Axela, walking down a narrow and dusty side street. Sophia walks next to me on her black one, Mockbee. She’s swapped her stained and bloodied gear for a new set in the same dusky red. She has a bow across her lap, an arrow already nocked.

What I saw in Noble’s memory slowly settles into some - thing I can accept. It’s too weird to be anything but true. Out of all the craziness, I’m fixated on how long the Originals have been around. My clone source has been alive since the Dark Ages.

Our enemy has
lifetimes
of experience. How can we compete?
Sophia kicks her horse into a canter. “C’mon,” she calls back. “Night falls soon and we don’t want to be out then.”
No, I imagine we don’t.
I catch up to her; the speed increase reminds me of the bruises on my legs and arms and torso—my whole body, really. Wearing my armor helps a little. “How did you and Noble meet?”
She doesn’t say anything for an entire block.
“He found me, a few years ago. I wandered down the wrong alley near the market, and three men grabbed me and pulled me into a building.” She slows to a trot. “I...They tore my clothes off.” She clenches her teeth together. A moment passes where she seems to harden herself against the memory. “I screamed and kicked and one of them pulled a knife and held it against my eye.”
I feel my pulse in the scar on my cheek.
“The leader had his pants down when Noble appeared.” Her voice changes to reverence. “He was like a ghost. He moved so fast, he smashed their heads in with a rock before they really knew what was happening. Then he gave me a red robe to cover myself, this ceremonial robe of the Red Guard. And he gave me something to eat.” She rubs at her eye. “He sponsored me into the Red Guard program.”
We trot for another block.
“Sorry it’s not a happy story,” she says, but with defiance.
“It has a happy ending,” I say.
Soon I hear sounds up ahead. Market sounds.
“Stay close to me and don’t make eye contact,” Sophia says. “Act like they’re beneath you.”
We turn the corner and enter what must be the market. It’s nearly deserted, just rows of empty stalls in a huge square lot. The perimeter appears fenced in at first, but then I see it’s just the jagged first floor of a decapitated building. The market is in the footprint of a long-gone skyscraper. About one in every five stalls is occupied, but the people are packing up.
In the distance, a bell rings softly.
“Thirty minutes of light left,” she says. “We’re okay.” That doesn’t stop the chill from running back and forth across my shoulders.
The man comes out of the alley to our right. At first I think it’s an eyeless because of the hunched posture, but then I see the dark pits of his eyes and the crude blade in his fist. He does his best impression of a run at Sophia’s flank, but he’s still slower than me on a bad day. I tuck my legs under me, stand up on Axela, then leap off, swinging my legs forward in midair. I land with both feet on his chest and take him to the ground. His ribs crack and his mouth opens, sucking at air.
“Leave him,” Sophia says over her shoulder.
“I just saved your life,” I say, feeling more than a little underappreciated.
“For which I am eternally grateful, but we haven’t much time.”
The man groans and writhes on the ground. I kick his blade to the gutter and hop back on my horse. Sophia is already twenty feet ahead, and I don’t want to be left behind in this awful place.
Sophia snatches up an apple as she passes a fruit stall. The appleisbrownish,andthefrailwomanbehindthestalldoesn’t say a word. In the same motion, Sophia tosses it down the row to a little girl with matted hair and a dirty face. The girl looks around to make sure no one saw her catch it, then she takes off in the opposite direction.
“Come on,” Sophia says when she sees I’ve lagged behind.
I give Axela a nudge with my heels, and we move to another stall still open for business. A beefy man stands behind it, wearing loose threadbare shirt and pants. His bloodshot eyes flit between me and Sophia.
“Need the batteries today,” she says, straight to the point. Even though she hasn’t exactly been nice to me, I think I like this girl.
“I tell him it will take a few weeks,” the man says with a Russian accent.
“Nonsense,” Sophia says, circling Mockbee around his stall. “We’ve
given
you weeks. Now fulfill your word.”
The man smiles, showing brown teeth. “I joke. You have the coin?”
Sophia pulls a small sack off her belt and tosses it to the man. He catches it and hefts the weight in his palm. Then he picks up a bag from behind his stall and whips it at her. It’s heavy and almost knocks her off her horse.
She slings it over her shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m in a hurry.”
The man raises a hand wrapped in yellowed bandages. “Okay! Thank you too! Send my regards to the Red Guard, yes?”
Sophia glares at him, then turns Mockbee around and trots away. I follow.
“What are the batteries for?” I say once we’ve left the mar- ket and are back on the empty roads. The sky is darker now, and the shadows all blend.
“The thing that’ll give us a fighting chance.”

We’re a mile from home when full dark falls. The streets are so black, I can’t tell where concrete ends and sky begins. Every few seconds the sky flashes violet and I catch a glimpse of where we are. I see a snapshot of Sophia looking back at me, face drawn tight.

“Ride hard. The horses know the way.” And she’s off, the next flash showing her horse in full gallop.
“C’mon,” I whisper, digging in my heels. Axela responds, and I chase after Sophia.
Over the pound of hooves and my heart, I hear things moan in the buildings we pass. I hear bones breaking, like limbssnappingoff a tree. Themoans turnto screamsandIsee shapes in the windows and doors and hear sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
“Are you thinking about me?” Noah says in my head.
His sudden voice is a comfort, not a scare this time. I can pretend I’m not alone. Sophia pulls farther ahead. In the next flash I see something in the road between us....
A little boy on his hands and knees.
But it’s not a little boy. Where his eyes should be are just smooth planes of flesh. No nose, either, just twin openings above a tiny rosebud mouth. It freezes my blood, and I
feel
Noah’s horror flood through me.
“Oh my God . . .” he says.
The eyeless is in full gallop after Sophia’s horse. It scrambles over garbage heaps and around collapsed sections of the road.
It gains on her, and I scream “Sophia!” so loud my throat burns.
She swivels on Mockbee and pulls out a slingshot. Metal flashes in the next lightning strike. The eyeless trips and rolls in the dirt; my horse runs directly over it, crushing it under hooves, cutting off its screams.
“Take a left!” Sophia yells back.
I look behind me as lightning flashes again.
Three more eyeless gallop after me. I grip the reins until the leather creaks. Axela leans left into the parking garage entrance and we pound inside. Something buzzes behind me; a red grid of lasers is now in place over the opening. The eyeless run past it, which makes me wonder if they’re moving toward another entrance.
“Okay, nice,” Noah says, “a laser door. I like laser doors.”
Me too.
“Hey, if you get some privacy later, we need to talk.” I feel him recede.
Sophia breathes heavily beside me. “The eyeless know they can’t get in, so they give up.”
A wave of nausea hits me. “What are they doing in the city?” I say.
Sophia walks her horse down the ramp, and mine follows. “Some of them stay in the city to feed at night. It’s the best time for them, since they can see in the dark and we can’t.”
“How can they see at all?”
“They’re psychics. They see everything with their minds. It’s literally impossible to hide from them. Once they enter a room, they know where everything is instantly.”
Making them the perfect hunter-killers. A chill runs up and down my spine.
“Then where did they come from?” I say.
She doesn’t bother to look back. “You with the questions. I don’t know where they came from. Probably from True Earth. They’re all the same, all of them. We’ve caught and killed them, and genetically they’re all identical.”
“How is that possible?” I say, and then the answer comes to me.
The eyeless are clones.