Lotus and Thorn (29 page)

“
My
people.” My voice was a growl. “
My
parents. He had no right.”

“And you? You have the right to put this Dome in jeopardy? To risk
my
children? They won’t survive if the Dome is breached.
I
won’t survive. Is that
your
risk to take?”

I was stunned into silence.

“You hadn’t thought of that had you? You were too busy thinking of how to save your sister. Jenner raised Nik and Edison as if they were soldiers of the Dome. And when Jenner realized he’d failed, that his prodigies couldn’t win the war, he passed that failure on to them. By the time he was done with them, Nik and Edison would’ve done anything to prove themselves. The difference between the two of them is that Edison
still
would.”

Her words rung in my ears, but I shook my head. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose the people around you. To find out they’ve been part of some experiment gone wrong.”

“I don’t know?” Ada’s face was incandescent. She grabbed my hand and held it against her rounded stomach. “I have
no idea
what I’m carrying. A clone? Some sort of engineered monster? Edison has pulled us all into his experiments. Every child born in the last year has some kind of anomaly. That is
if
they managed to survive. Some births have not been so lucky.” A band of anger pulled her words tight. “For Mother or child.”

As I looked at Ada, my own fear about what was done to me—about what was done to Tasch—was split wide. Ada, Nik, Tasch,
Suji, Olivia, me. Even Edison. The same blade had cut us all. “I didn’t know. I’m—”

“I don’t want your pity.” Ada’s blue eyes glittered with defiance. “I’m only telling you this so you understand.
This is personal.
So we’re happy to help you make your trip out to Pleiades—that sort of thing’s right up our alley. But there’s a catch.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re planning next—and don’t even pretend that you don’t have some sort of revolution in mind. Whatever you’re planning, the Mothers want in.”

The idea of more allies was tempting, but I didn’t want to be responsible for more people risking their lives. “No . . . I can’t drag you into my mess.”

“Sweetie,” Ada said, adding an eyelash flutter. “It was our mess first.”

THE NEXT NIGHT,
I dressed in dark pants and a lightweight long-sleeve shirt Riya had whipped up for me. It was going to be cold out there in the desert, but I was also going to be moving fast. I would leave by the same entrance I’d come back up through. Near the old church.

But this time, Ada would be redirecting any flys that were headed toward my trajectory. She’d also found a route that bypassed the LOTUS wards—I’d have to go through some ventilation shafts, but there was less chance of being seen. I was grateful; I didn’t want to have to see Tasch only to leave her again.

Ada knew an impressive amount about the underground tunnels and the Dome’s security. But as I slipped into the backyard, I was thinking about what else she’d had to say to me. Nik had done terrible things, but his purpose hadn’t been terrible. And I felt the blade of my knife slicing through the thin skin at Suji’s throat. I had killed too. And I thought of the bombs Oksun was already building. I would kill again.

I turned away from the street and headed into the trees.

Nik’s head jerked up when he heard me coming and he set aside the plant he was pruning. “Leica . . .”

“Hating you will not bring my parents back.”

He was quiet, waiting for me to continue. His eyes held a tentative hope.

“Thank you for setting up the meeting with Ada. I’m going out to Pleiades to tell Sarika about Taschen. I’d like you to come with me. You know your way though those tunnels.”

Nik tensed. Almost like I’d hit him. “You know I can’t.”

“We can find you an isolation suit.”

“It’s not that.”

“You’ve hidden in here for long enough. You say you’re sorry for what you did to my parents, but you’re unwilling to take responsibility and make it right.”

“Responsibility? Why else do you think I’ve shut myself away . . . so I won’t do any more harm.”

“You didn’t mean to infect anyone. You thought you were helping.”

“That’s exactly the point! I wanted to save your people and I
murdered
them. Worse than that, Edison perverted my idea, using it to infect
more
Citizens. If I don’t even know I’m doing the wrong thing, how do I stop myself?” Nik’s eyes shone in the lights of the garden. “Jenner
never
should’ve made us. We’re a twisted version of humanity and what we touch becomes twisted in the process.”

Edison’s enraged words came back to me. “That’s exactly the word Edison used . . . ‘twisted.’ Then he said you were nothing more than a bad copy.”

Nik frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.
I
was born first. Jenner
made sure I was born healthy, then cloned Edison from my cells. Edison
knows
that.”

But it made sense to me and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. Edison hated himself. Despite his arrogance and despite his schemes, he was still nothing more than Jenner’s failed experiment. This was the truth he spent his life trying to hide from the world, and more importantly, from himself. I remembered the cold hatred in Edison’s voice when he said,
He is a mistake.

I looked at Nik now. His beautiful face full of regret. He hated himself too. But unlike Edison, Nik wore it like a coat around his shoulder. Sewed into every line in his body.

And I found a cold rage in my heart—a malicious hatred I’d never felt for anyone before. Not even the Abuelos who’d exiled me.
Jenner.
His cruelty had forged every joist and girder and bolt of this terrible mess.

“Maybe Jenner
shouldn’t
have made you. But he
did
. And yes, like all of us, you have the capacity to do great evil. But you also have the capacity for greatness. You can hide in here, planting a forest of blame and fear around yourself. Or you can come with me and believe you’ve learned from your mistakes . . . exceed your limitations.

“Now,” I said. “Which is it going to be?”

Nik looked stunned by my speech. He blinked and almost laughed. And his answer seemed to surprise even him. “I guess I’m coming with you.”

We took the miles through the Reclamation Fields at a slow jog. It was as fast as we could manage with Nik in an isolation suit and me watching out for digsites. It was wonderful to see the lights
of the Pleiades towers growing bigger. Nine glowing blue towers standing in a semicircle. Home.

By the time we got to Pleiades, it was long past curfew, so the gates were guarded. We skirted the seven-foot wall until we were right behind Building Nine. Nik boosted me up and I perched on top of the concrete barrier, reaching back down for him. But he was already pulling himself over.

When I dropped down into the Commons, I didn’t recognize where I was for a second. There should’ve only been the compost shed and the quarantine shed back here. But instead we were surrounded by a cluster of six squat buildings.

I peered in the window of one. Rows of beds lined the walls and each of them was filled. Rashes. Bloody eyes. Weeping open wounds as the body broke down.

I peeked in another shed. More beds. More people.

And another. They were
all
quarantine sheds.

“This is Edison’s work,” I said. Before, I’d been worried about what Sarika would say when she saw us. But now I knew I’d convince her to help us. I had to.

Nik slipped his gloved hand into mine and together we climbed the five flights of stairs, knocking quietly at my family’s door.

Sarika opened it, and—despite my revelation about her—homesickness rushed at me. She took one look at me and Nik in his suit, and pulled us inside without a word.

“Who did that to you?” Sarika was looking at my face, anger tight in her voice.

My hands went to my cheek—my bruises had almost faded, but Sarika’s eagle eyes had spotted them anyway.

“I’m taking care of it,” I told her. She nodded, her long braid pulling her face into an unapologetic ferocity.

Once we’d gotten that out of the way, she moved on to Nik. “What are you thinking? Bringing a Curador here?”

“Sarika, this is Nik. He’s going to help us.”

She glanced at my fingers, involuntarily, as if I had brought their curse down on us all. And when she spoke, there was a trembling vibrato to her voice, like she used when she spoke at the Rememberings. “What is so terrible that we need help from a Curador?”

“Sarika.” I took her hand in mine. “Taschen is alive.”

• • •

We sat at my family’s scrubbed wooden table, and over mugs of strong tea, I told Sarika about the Dome and the LOTUS wards. But it was hard, being in this place that was mine, but not mine. Everything was still in its proper place. The kettle, sitting on its worn pot holder. Dad’s fighting sticks crisscrossed on their shelf. Boots lined up by the door. But it didn’t smell like home. It was all Sarika now—stringent alcohol and burnt agave.

I pulled my mind away from memories and my eyes from the closed door of the room I’d shared with my sisters, focusing on explaining everything I’d discovered. I tried to tell it all in order so it would make sense, but I was hurrying. It was already past midnight and I could feel the countdown to dawn ticking away.

But Sarika couldn’t get past the idea that Taschen was alive. “Then Alejo is right. The disease has changed.”

I hesitated. I didn’t have any real answers for her, but Nik stepped in.

“I think Edison’s infecting people with something mimicking the symptoms of Red Death. Maybe via the food supply? Or the
Curadores who come to collect the dead? Whatever this new virus is, it’s shutting down the body with minimal damage . . . sending the person into a coma. It’s even possible that they’re clinically dead for a short while and he’s reviving them. But my guess is that Curadores are the only ones who risk getting close enough to quarantined patients anymore to tell the difference. Once the Citizen appears dead, Edison brings them into the Dome and experiments on them.”

“To what end?” Sarika asked.

“The Indignos were right,” I said. “The Curadores need us more than we need them . . . that’s why the Curadores have been demanding more Finds. They’re trying to repair things faster than they break down.”

Nik jumped in again. “Edison’s trying to create a Curador who can survive outside the Dome. Who’s resistant to all possible strains of disease.”

Sarika was shaken. I was so used to seeing complete calm on her face—her shrewd eyes seeing and understanding all. But now she looked like a hawk unsure where to strike. “What’s your plan, then?”

“Well, if we manage to break into the wards and get our Citizens out, secrecy will not be an option. The ward where I found Tasch isn’t the only one on record . . . we won’t be able to hide a sudden influx of hundreds of people,” I said.

“The Abuelos will never accept them.” Sarika’s certainty was absolute. “A return of the sick? A questioning of the Curadores motives? No, that’d be tantamount to questioning the Abuelos’ authority.” I could see she was weighing things out in her mind, as if she was preparing a new recipe. “So it’ll have to be a simultaneous attack. Yes, that could work.”

“I’ve been training the Kisaengs inside, and the Mothers—the women from Ad Astra—want to fight as well. We’ll need to take control of the Dome at the same time you take control of the Abuelos’ council. But Taschen and the other Citizens are our primary concern. They need to be rescued before any fighting starts so they don’t get trapped down there.” Or so Edison doesn’t try to simply destroy the evidence. “That’s where Lotus and all the Indignos come in. Everyone else is being watched, so they’re the perfect infiltrating force. They can sneak into the wards through the tunnels, same way I got here, and get the Citizens out before anyone knows what happened.”

“I’ll go out to Tierra Muerta tomorrow,” Sarika said.

“Thank you.”

“Our people have cooperated with the Curadores long enough and it’s kept us from finding redemption. It’s time for that to end.”

Then Sarika addressed Nik directly for the first time. “Tell me honestly, even if we get our people out, will they survive? And if they do, will they infect the rest of us?”

“Honestly?” Nik took his time, thinking through his answer. “Many of them won’t make it, but it’s likely some of them will. From what Leica tells me, not everyone appears to be suffering from Red Death. I suspect some are only as sick as Edison has made them. We’ll be as careful as we can with the Citizens we rescue. We’ll put them in quarantine. We’ll treat their symptoms. And we’ll keep a close watch on them.”

“You mean . . .” And Sarika smiled for the first time that night. “We’ll pray.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Nik said, a half smile on his own face.

Then Sarika looked at me across the sand-scrubbed table.

“You know once we put this in motion, it can’t be stopped. The Abuelos will have to fall . . . it’ll tear apart Pleiades. And it won’t easily go back together again. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Taschen’s agonized face haunted me. And sitting here in my old apartment, I could almost see her spinning in her purple dress, grinning. But this was about more than just wanting to see my sister again, wasn’t it?

And I thought of the other Citizens whose lives had already been destroyed—infected by Edison or exiled by the Abuelos. Of the word
pending
stamped on Oksun’s file. Of Ada’s pregnant belly. And all the Kisaengs lined up that morning after Edison’s attack—ready to fight. A swift anger surged through me, lifting my voice. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Okay, then,” Sarika said. “There’s only question left. When?”

“Dia de los Muertos. The masks will disguise the Indignos if they need to move among you. And the fireworks will cover the sound of any fighting.”

“Yes.” And Sarika smiled again. A real smile this time. “What better day to bring our dead back home?”

• • •

We spent another hour strategizing, before Nik and I headed back out into the darkness. We traveled in silence, each lost in our own thoughts as we retraced our path to the Dome. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to step into my old room. Had Sarika left our things where they were? Or had she gotten rid of them? The closed door loomed in my mind. Asking all the questions I hadn’t dared to.

Despite knowing me my whole life, despite being a second
mother to me, some part of Sarika only saw me as a reminder that the Citizens had failed their God. Was it possible that someone could love you and hate you at the same time?

And looking over at Nik, I thought of Jenner. Did any part of him love the pair of boys he had created? Could any part of him see the greatness that he’d wrought? But Jenner
did
have the grace to leave Nik alone to his forest and his plants . . . maybe that’s the closest thing to love a man like Jenner could manage.

I looked up, searching the sky. But it held the kind of vastness that only made way for more questions. What had brought the Colonists so far out into that blackness? What had pulled them away from everything they knew? And I thought again of that coded signal—following them out here, reaching across the stars, trying to tell us . . . what?

Nik seemed to pick up on my thoughts. As we climbed down into the pit, he took one last look around the desert. “It’s hard to believe there was ever a city here.”

I gripped the rusty metal scaffolding that served as our route back down into the tunnels and tried to see what he saw. Tried to see the Reclamation Fields, and Tierra Muerta beyond them, with new eyes. “In the Rememberings they say God smashed the Colony with his fist.”

“Do you believe that?” There was no challenge in Nik’s question—the face peering at me from inside the suit only showed an earnest curiosity.

“No.” And then I thought of all the Rememberings—all the stories that still flowed through my veins, whether I wanted them to or not. “And yes.”

Then he gave me a hint of a smile. A crinkling at the corner of his eyes. “What do you think the fist of God even looks like?”

I shook my head. “When I was a kid, all I could think about was how much noise it would’ve made. All that shattering glass. Buildings popping and crunching under the weight.” And I realized, like my Corruption, the idea of God’s fist was something I’d never truly abandoned. “What do
you
think happened?”