Flight (36 page)

"How do I know you're not just setting me up? To take me to her?"

"Junco, if I wanted to do that I'd have given us up down here. We'd be in custody right now. Like I said, I don't need anything from anybody. You don't understand that yet, but it's true. I've been around your mother long enough to know how to play the game, and Snowbird, we're at the end right now and we're winning big. So, what do you want to do? Take out Inanna? Or go find Tier?"

I hesitate. This does not feel like winning big. At all.

"Now, Junco. I need an answer. Cryo is all the way across the compound and their hovercopter will be on the roof–"

"On the roof?"

"Yeah, to pick them up–"

I look over at the 50 cal. "Is it less than two miles from here to there?"

He smiles as my intentions leak out with my words. "Yeah, but we need to find a clear shot."

"OK, let's kill her. You're right, Tier's not leaving without me, he'll find us. Besides, I have a tracking beacon on me somewhere, so he'll know where I am. And if the only thing I get out of this whole mission is revenge for Isten, then I can die satisfied."

The words are out before I realize what I just said. I shudder and shake it off. Oh well. Fuck it. If that's all it takes for me to get my promise of satisfaction, then it is what it is. I'm not going home without killing someone for Isten.

Gideon is already shoving the 50 cal into my hands. The weight of it sinks me for a fraction, but I adjust and distribute the weapon that is almost as long as my entire body across my spread-out arms.

I watch Gideon as his eyes go distant. "Do you have a vision screen too?"

His eyes focus back on me. "Yeah, of course. We both have them, Juncs. We're partners, in this together. Don't you get that yet? Come on, this way. We can see the cryo building from molecular biology."

He leads me out of the little room and we continue along the tunnels.

"How do you know where everything is?"

"I have a fucking map, Junco. And like I said, I've learned how to play the game from the best. I've been here more times than I can count. And, well – you might not still be hooked into Sera, but I am. She's still on our side."

My nose is running from my crying and I sniffle a little. "I don't understand any of this. What's going on? And fuck, do I have to carry this monster all by myself?"

He stops. "Sorry, forgot about that." He picks up one end of Isten's sniper rifle and the weight evens out between us. "OK, look – it's like this, Junco. We grew up together. I'm a Seven too, but not the real Seven. That's you. My clutch was killed. They were defective. All but me. Your clutch is all still alive, Moju and the rest, right? So as long as all of you are alive, your clutch is the one that fulfills the prophecy. If the avians can get the six back to wherever it is they live, their genetics will be clean again. You can die after that, and it won't change the future for them. But if you stay alive you can fulfill your end of the prophecy. Which can't happen until some higher power or order or something comes back to Earth and moderates the punishment of Lucan."

Oh, God. I feel sick. I stop and make him stop too. "What is it? What's my part?"

"That's up to you, Snowbird. Us or them. Human or avian."

"Who is us and who is them, Gideon?"

He sneers at me. "Who the fuck do you think is us,
Junco
?"

"Then why would Lucan and them let me live, after they get the six? I mean they have to know I'll choose humans and Earth. So, why wouldn't they just kill me and stop that last part from happening?"

He shrugs. "You tell me. Why would Lucan let you live? Are you sure he would?"

I want to say yes, but I'm not sure. Ashur said they needed my help out of all the shit they're in so that part adds up. But Lucan made such a big deal about me coming home. That part makes no sense if he wants to kill me.
Unless he just wants me back to make sure I die.

I change the subject.

"You said you named me? What's that all about?"

"I wasn't the only other Seven, Junco. I was just one among hundreds over the years, but I'm the only one the RR let live besides you because all of my clutch was insane
except
me. Ironic, huh?" He stops to look over at me. "And they let me live if I agreed to be connected to you. You see, they already made a shitload of Sevens, but they all went insane before they ever got out of playschool. They were all utterly and completely wild in every way. Uncontrollable, unreasonable, and a menace to everyone. And while the Seven doesn't really do all that much until the end, if the Seven isn't right, the other six aren't right either. It's all or nothing. You can't pick and choose the Siblings. Doesn't work that way. They all have to come from the same clutch. So, they figured they needed to redistribute the different genetic attributes and raise the Seven using a unique combination of environmental factors."

"My training."

He nods. "Right. And your family, that acrobatic shit you do, the horses, the piano – all of it was part of your conditioning. To keep the human parts in your psyche while they sucked them all out of your cells to prepare you for morph. So you'd be ready for the next phase. You were born half human, but half humans don't morph into avians, Junco. They took that shit away to make you morph."

He starts walking again and I keep up because I have the other half of the damn rifle.

"So, what's that have to do with you naming me?"

"I was your anchor. They needed you to have one normal human relationship. Someone you could always trust. And that was me. They took me to you the day you were born and told me to name you. I was only five, right? So, of course I had all these grand ideas about names and omens and shit like that. And it snowed that day."

I snort. "It snowed on September, 3rd?"

He smiles down at me. "Yeah, pretty good omen I thought. So I named you snowbird because your little mouth was in the shape of an O when I went in to see you, like a baby bird waiting for food."

I feel warm for a second.

"But they weren't on board with snowbird, so they made it Junco instead."

"Who are they?"

"Your father mostly, Junco. I get that you hate him. And if I was you and had to go through all that shit and not understand why, I'd hate him too. But the things he did saved your life more times than I can count. He wanted you to live, that's why he pushed you so hard. He didn't want them to kill you like they did all the others."

All the others.

I take a few deep breaths and let the silence linger as our feet travel the tunnel. "They tried to kill me, after that shit with the mutant kids. That's why I had to kill that trainer. He shot me on the sniper range, but not a good shot. You only get one shot at me."

He laughs. "Yeah. I know. And that was Matthew anyway, right? If there is a devil, then Matthew was it."

Yeah. I hated fucking Matthew. He made Dale look like Santa. "Who else is in on this, Gideon?"

"The rest are not important right now. All bad people on all sides, Junco. We'll get them. Don't worry. We'll get them back for all of it. But not today. Today we get Inanna and Iliana and we go back with your friends to their home."

"Iliana? I thought she was dead? Isten said they killed her."

"Hardly any of these people really die. Clones, right? They are digitizing consciousness now, so this Iliana is the same one that was close to Tier." His words link Tier and Iliana in a way that makes me hurt inside, but I push it down. No point in being jealous when I get to kill the bitch in the end. "She was a real Seven, like us. Before she was killed the first time. But even though her consciousness can be transferred to a new body, the genetics don't match exactly. She's not a Seven anymore. Just an Iliana clone who wishes she was us. And Tier and them, they were just too stupid to figure it out until it was too late. She's just a worthless clone."

"And all those clones of Aren?"

"There's only one Aren, and he hasn't died yet. Just like you. There's only one Junco and if they have clones of me," he stops to look back, "then they're impostors too. All of them. I am the Seven of Clutch 139 and you are the Seven of Clutch 144. We are the only Sevens left from the RR engineering. Now the MR, they have their own shit going on. But we're the sanctioned ones, the ones that come from the real genetics and not the cloned genetics. Just us, Junco. There is no Clutch 145 as far as I know. And if there is, it doesn't matter anymore. The avians have their six and as long as they're all alive when they extract the DNA, the next clutch doesn't matter. As far as Aren goes, his worthless parents sold his genetics when he was a kid. He wasn't responsible for that."

We walk for a few minutes without talking. The puddles in the tunnel are getting deeper and my feet make more noise than I'm comfortable with. "The Aren I spent the night with, back in the scrub, after the MR caught me? Who was that guy? Do you know? He knew my favorite food. He kept a secret I told him back in cadets. And he fought for me when Tier was trying to take me away."

"Just a clone, Junco." He stops to look at me. "Don't get caught up in it. They're clones. They look like us, but they are not us."

"Have they cloned Tier?"

He blows out some air through his teeth. "He fucked up so bad. Pure avian clones are not like the human ones – you can manipulate them in all sorts of ways in the tank. Make them grow faster, be smarter, change muscles, or anything else. I cannot even tell you how much fucking worse he's made the situation down here. I'd like to kill him for that reason alone."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

Gideon grunts out a little laugh. "As powerful as Tier is, Junco? He's no match for me, I was playing with him back in those tunnels. We aren't even the same species."

He turns and picks up the pace, forcing me to as well since we are attached at the rifle. Lucan's words come back to me when I asked him if I was a demon. He said we weren't even the same being, but my mind is full of Isten and Iliana and so much more I cannot even put it in words. So fuck it. The full moon will just have to wait a little longer because I'm busy looking at Alcor.

Gideon stops walking and hands me back his part of the rifle, then starts removing a grate built into the side of the wall. "We'll go up through here. Sera says this is the overflow drain."

Chapter Thirty-Three

It's not a big grate. Not at all. I peek around his hunched shoulders and try to imagine him even fitting in that drain, that's how fucking small it is.

"Uh, I don't think you'll fit through there, Gid."

"Shut up, Junco. I'll fit and so will you. Just do what I tell you now." He finishes up with the last screw and pries a few layers of rust and grime off the sides and tugs until the metal snaps free and he falls backward a little. He sets it on the ground and looks back at me, serious. "Forty-seven minutes, Junco. Do not play around, you hear me?"

"I won't. Shit, don't be such an asshole."

"I'll go first, you follow and since you're so much smaller, pick that fucking grate up and pull it in behind you just in case someone stumbles onto our little escape route."

And then he takes back the 50 cal, turns, and forces his wide shoulders into the insanely small passageway, wiggling a little bit to get past the entrance. The 50 cal follows him in, it too wiggling as it moves along the tether that is around his arm.

I breathe heavy for him as I imagine how tight it is, then feel a sharp pain in my head and wince at Isten's memories. No time for stupid shit, Junco. I pick up the grate and crawl in once he's out of the way, then contort myself around and prop the grate back against the opening.

Gideon is moving faster than I could ever imagine in this tight space and it takes me a second to get into my sniper crawl and keep up with him.

The pain in my head increases as Isten's memories flood into me in another wave. I moan a little and this sets Gideon off.

"What the fuck is wrong now, Junco?"

"The memories, I'm sorry. It fucking hurts." I see Isten as a ten-year-old in his sniper training and then smile when Lucan gifts him scope sight when he completes his course. He's got a lot of experience on me. I think. Then Gid is in my brain snatching up memories and the pressure subsides.

"When did I first go to sniper training, Gideon?"

He's breathing a lot harder than me, wearing out fast from the effort it takes to move through the little tunnel. "You started training the day you were born, Junco. I guess you shot your first little scoped rifle at five? I don't remember. A lot sooner than Isten, if that's what you're wondering."

The passageway starts to get wet and we slosh against the trickle of running water. "Oh, my God, what is that fucking smell."

He grunts up ahead. "You don't want to know. Just keep crawling."

I turn my head and hurl. The remains of my mapolina meal comes up in waves. I hurl again as my stomach contracts and retches up everything left of those potential calories.

"You all right?"

I heave a few more times but nothing else comes up. "No, this place smells, what is it?"