Lotus and Thorn (36 page)

WHATEVER WAS LEFT
of my heart hardened against Edison. I buried my hand in the pup’s fur. “You didn’t deserve this.”

I was answered with a low whine. The dog managed to open her eyes, though I could only see the whites. “Oh, pup!”

She whimpered and gave another pitiful whine. It was a mournful, agonized cry and I raised my knife—steeling myself to end her suffering. But I didn’t have it in me. Not after this night. Not after the terrible things I’d already seen and done.

Kneeling there, I let my head drop. Let myself grieve for just a moment. I was exhausted, my body ached, and my hands burned from my fall. I ran my fingers over my ripped palm. It was already starting to scab over a little, the nanites working fast. And I had an idea.

I winced as I sliced my palm with my knife. A dark red line welled up and I made a fist. Blood seeped between my clenched fingers—dripping down my hand—and I let it trickle into the dog’s wounded underbelly.

She whimpered, straining to lift her head. I scratched her chin. “I know, pup . . . it hurts. I know.”

Then she slumped back to the ground again. Eyes shut. Was it enough? Was it too late, like with Tasch? Or had the pup just passed out?

I pushed myself to my feet. I’d done all I could. Well, not everything—I added the pup to the list of things I would make Edison pay for.

As I came over the crest and descended into the small valley, the lights of the Indigno camp greeted me. I didn’t see anyone moving around down there, but I could hear the hiss of the radio. And in the center of camp—where the bonfire had been—sat a smaller version of the shuttle we’d found in the sand dunes.

I stuck my knife back in my boot and pulled out my scope to get a better look. I recognized the aged metal. The markings on the door. This wasn’t a
version
of the shuttle . . . it
was
the shuttle. Only it’d been taken apart and cobbled back together into a smaller machine.

Two wings jutted out on either side of a tiny cockpit. The engines that’d been close to the sides of the shuttle before had been reattached so they were sitting at the ends of the wings now, pointing down. Food replicators and stacks of storage drives were piled around an open door. I heard voices, and Edison came into view, wearing an isolation suit.

Then Nik, without one.

Dammit.
Back in my bedroom, I’d
told
Nik where Edison was headed. Of course he came out here. I should’ve guessed. No matter what’d happened, Edison was still Nik’s brother.

They were arguing as Edison loaded up the shuttle, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Pulling off my boots and socks, I crept through the maze of tarp-covered ruins. Rocks dug
into my soles, but my bare feet were silent and sure of the ground beneath them. Then I was only five or six meters away. I crouched behind a crumbling wall, assessing the situation.

The shuttle was sitting in the middle of the central clearing. In addition to the small cockpit, there was a second compartment where Edison was stowing supplies. You could access the compartment from either side of the shuttle and Edison had both doors open as he loaded up the ship.

“. . . and I already said,
I’m leaving
.” Edison carried a food synthesizer to the shuttle.

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you—you don’t have to! The nanites can allow us to survive outside the Dome,” Nik said.

They were completely absorbed in their debate and I realized this was a much better situation than I could’ve imagined. I ripped open my hem—pulling out the pouch of explosives. Nik was the perfect distraction. But I’d still have to sneak around to the other side so I wouldn’t be seen.

“Don’t you see?” Nik touched Edison’s arm. “
This
is what we imagined all those years ago. We can start over! We can fix Gabriel!”

All the tents and buildings faced this central area and I retreated back into them—winding through the camp. Working my way around to the far side of the shuttle. I was terrified of making a noise, but I concentrated on the heft of the bomb in my hand. Letting it steady me.

“But this is bigger than we ever imagined.” Edison’s voice drifted through the Indigno camp. “You
have
to come with me! We owe it to ourselves to do this together.”

I reached the other side, the rebuilt ship sitting between me and
the brothers now—only a few meters away from the wall I was crouching behind. From this vantage point, I could see Edison on the far side, framed by the open doors of the compartment. And there was a look on his face as he loaded the final bits onto the shuttle—one I couldn’t quite place. Doubt? Regret?

Then he plastered a wide smile on his face and he turned to Nik. As soon as Edison’s back was to me, I scurried across the open ground to the shuttle—stashing the explosives behind a stack of drives. Pulling the detonator out of my pocket.

“These people are desperate for technology and those nanites of yours are exactly what they’re looking for. I mean, look at what it’s already done for you . . . I assume that’s why you aren’t wearing an isolation suit?” There was a false casualness to Edison’s voice as he asked his last question.

And hearing it, I froze—half in, half out of the shuttle—danger prickling at my neck. If Nik had come straight out to Tierra Muerta, then he had no idea about Edison’s Decontamination Protocol. He had no idea what his brother was capable of. But
I
did.

If Edison wanted Nik to come with him—wherever he was going—it could only be for one reason. The nanites inside Nik’s veins.

Nik was going to get himself killed. He was going to get us both killed.

I pocketed the detonator and eased out of the shuttle. Edison’s back was still to me, but he’d moved to his brother’s side, so now I could see both of them through the doors. I tried to get Nik’s attention.

“But our people need this technology too!” Nik gestured toward
the shuttle and his eyes went wide when he saw me there. He recovered quickly and managed to keep talking. “Are you telling me that Earth is more deserving than them?”

Edison let out a bark of laughter—a dry, humorless thing. “That’s the thing, Nikola . . . the joke’s on us. We’re already
on
Earth.”

“I KNOW IT’S IMPOSSIBLE
to believe . . . it was for me at first too. But somewhere on the other side of those mountains”— Edison turned, pointing to the ridge behind me and I dove out of sight, hoping I was fast enough—“there are people.”

Now I pressed my back flat against the wall of the shuttle—the cold creeping through my thin dress.
Earth?

Edison was insane. He
must
be.

Then an image came into my mind—the bottle of wine Edison had shared with me that first night. The valley and vineyards of California.

That bottle had felt important. Familiar somehow. And now I understood why . . . I had
recognized
that ridge line. That picture on the bottle had been of
our mountains
. Our valley.

“
Think
about what you’re saying.” Nik’s voice was strained—trying to understand what Edison was telling him. Trying to figure out what to do about me. “If there were other people on this planet, we would have seen them . . . seen
some sign
of them.”

“Not if they’d abandoned us here. Not if we
wanted
them to forget. Remember . . . remember when we realized that Red Death
was a hybrid . . . that someone had
made
it on purpose? Tell me you didn’t guess at least a little of the truth that day.
We
made that virus. Well, not us, but the Dome’s scientists, hundreds of years ago.”

“That’s what the underground laboratories were for . . .
that
was LOTUS.” Nik was putting the pieces together—faster than I was.

Edison nodded, keeping his eyes on his brother as Nik paced a little to the left, effectively angling Edison away from me.

“You’re looking at ground zero!” Edison gestured dramatically at the valley around him. “Ad Astra wasn’t some utopian planetary colony. It was a prototype. Scientists living and working inside the sealed environment, studying food replication, terraforming, swarm robotics—but it was all just a front for the real work.

“Red Death was the crown jewel of the LOTUS Corporation’s biological weapons division. The scientists couldn’t wait to show off their creation to headquarters in Washington, DC. But they underestimated it.” Edison flicked his head at the shuttle. “The crew was already infected by the time the plane even got off the ground.”

And I remembered the broken orange cases Suji found inside the shuttle. No, not shuttle—I corrected myself—Edison said
plane
.

“And how did the LOTUS Corporation reward their loyal employees for creating such a stunning success?” Edison asked. “By bombing the hell out of this valley and hitting the Dome’s self-destruct button.”

I thought of the date of the first Decontamination Protocol. 2084. That’s where Edison got the idea. From my hiding spot, I clutched the detonator hard—the prongs biting into my palm.

“But they survived,” Nik said, the whole picture unfolding in
his mind. “The scientists sealed in the isolation labs . . . the Citizens in the valley . . . they survived. No wonder we could never break into Ad Astra’s computer system. They locked themselves out on purpose. The only way to keep the LOTUS Corporation from coming back and finishing the job was to stay invisible.”

“What can I say? Life wants to live!” I could hear the glee in Edison’s voice. “But when we discovered this plane, we rediscovered the access codes . . . though it took me a while to figure out how to use them. Turns out they’re activated by proximity keys. Brilliant!”

And I thought of Lotus’s necklace—unsealing the Lab, turning off the Decontamination Protocol.

“But once I finally got the codes working, the whole Dome simply laid itself bare. Nik, you should’ve seen it. Everything we’ve ever tried to change or fix or understand for the last fifteen years was there! Schematics, data files, maps. All right at my fingertips!

“But Ad Astra had kept its secrets well. According to the files, after LOTUS Corporation declared this whole area a dead zone and started shooting anyone who tried to get in or out, the survivors made a pact. They threw away the passcodes to the LOTUS computer system and radios—
anything
that would connect them to the outside world—and they made up a history that would keep them safe. This valley”—Edison spread his arms wide—“bombed and crushed and abandoned, became Gabriel. Anyone who protested—inside
or
outside the Dome—was deemed Corrupted and exiled to Tierra Muerta.”

“And the next generation grew up safe, listening to stories about how their ancestors had journeyed across the stars to the planet
Gabriel. Brilliant.” Nik echoed Edison’s admiration. He sounded awestruck—caught up in the story Edison was weaving. “And Ad Astra Colony became a lone settlement on an infected planet. The perfect cage for people who had no choice but to stay trapped.”

I could tell by Nik’s tone that he’d forgotten where we were. What was happening here. But Edison hadn’t—I was sure of that. He was doing everything in his power to pull Nik back into a time when it was the two of them against the world. Giving Nik the satisfaction of piecing together the mystery they’d been born to solve.

I’d have to think for both of us, then. I peeked out from my hiding spot next to the open door—checking if it was safe to make my move. The two of them were in profile now, and as I shifted, I discovered I could see their reflections in the window of one of the food synthesizers. Squatting next to the plane in safety, I watched, waiting for my moment.

“Only . . .” Confusion clouded Nik’s face. “What makes you think they’re going to welcome us back now?”

“Because they
need
us!” Edison’s voice was suddenly infused with compassion and it was clear he was intent on drawing Nik into his scheme. “The dead zone did nothing to stop the spread of Red Death. Los Angeles was infected in a matter of hours. The west coast in a matter of days. They kept expanding the dead zone, but Red Death kept spreading. And with a ninety percent fatality rate, it only took a few months for the whole world to fall apart.”

Nik played right into Edison’s hand, his face filled with horrified fascination. “Even if there was still electricity, anything with a computer in it would’ve broken down in a matter of years or even months . . . and there would’ve been no one to fix it.”

“And nothing to fix it with.” Edison stepped toward Nik, reeling him in, and I tensed.
Turn toward Nik! Go on! Look away!

“They would’ve been too busy just trying not to starve,” Nik said.

“You see it now, don’t you? We were
never
meant to save the Dome.” Then Edison threw his arm around Nik. “We were meant to save the world!”

And I could see it too. Gabriel—our valley—had survived because the Dome’s technology had remained intact. It’d kept us all alive. But the rest of the world wouldn’t have had anything like the Dome to safeguard them. And now Edison was going to take our incredibly advanced tech back out into the world. He wouldn’t just be a hero. He would be a God.

“Then Jenner was right . . .
this
is what we were made for.” Nik was smiling, but his eyes flicked to me as he threw an arm around Edison. Pivoting his brother away from me and the plane.

I jumped up, scrambling into the compartment, and plunged the detonator into the bomb. I hit the timer—red numbers flashed three-zero-zero. Then they started counting down. Edison would not get the chance to destroy another world.

Through the doorway, I flashed three fingers at Nik and he nodded. We both knew that Edison would never let Nik share any of the power this new tech would bring. Edison liked to rule alone.

I backed out of the compartment and, keeping low, crept toward the nose of the plane. Trying to stay hidden. Trying to hurry. Trying to stay silent. Two minutes, forty seconds.

Nik kept talking, distracting Edison while I put distance between myself and the bomb. “If the whole world was infected, why keep the dead zone?”

“Same reason the Dome never let in the Citizens. The outside world never came up with a cure, but they weren’t saturated in the contagion like we were. With strict quarantine procedures, they managed to eradicate the disease. They haven’t had a case in—”

A squawk of feedback blasted through the plane’s radio as I slipped past the cockpit. I leapt back, my skirt swishing around me, and the squealing stopped. My stomach dropped as I looked down at my dress and realized what I’d done. Grimm’s feathers. I’d
decorated
myself with a whole array of shiny
antennas
.

I ran.

But Edison ran faster. He had me by my arm and was dragging me around the front of the plane before I’d made it three steps. “Why, Leica! How lovely of you to join us! I should’ve known a little bonfire wouldn’t stop you. Though you put on quite a show for my Curadores.”

Edison thought he’d won. But my mind was on the clock, running down the seconds. There couldn’t be more than two minutes left. I’d rather not die, but I was willing to.

“I suppose Nik bestowed his little miracle upon you too.”

I needed to keep him talking—distract him while the clock ran out. And I knew just the spot to hit. “Yeah . . . too bad for you that Nik turned out to be the smart brother.”

Edison laughed, pulling me close so my face was pressed against the speakers of his suit—his words rumbling through me. “Intelligence isn’t everything.”

Nik was only a few feet away, but his voice was very soft when he said, “Let her go.”

“Of course, brother . . . in a minute.”

As Edison smiled at Nik, I pulled my dagger from my pocket,
wanting to cut the smug smile off Edison’s face. But Edison seized my wrist and twisted hard, turning the knife on me.

There was a glint of silver as he forced me to slice my own arm and then his hand—tearing a gash through the white isolation suit and into his palm. Blood flowed down my arm, dripping on the sand. Staining my skin.

Nik was moving, but Edison had already clasped his injured hand around my bleeding arm. My mind went blank with the agony of it—the pain finally catching up with me. And by the time Nik had closed the distance between us, Edison had got what he wanted. The nanites.

He threw me at Nik, my limp body slamming into Nik’s chest. My dagger flying. The two of us skidding into the sand.

“I guess I should thank you for sparing me the task of killing my own brother.” Edison stripped off his isolation suit as we scrambled to our feet.

But I barely heard him over the refrain in my head.
One minute. One minute. One minute.

Nik’s hands curled into fists. But I grabbed his arm, stopping Nik from going after Edison. “Don’t! Can’t you see that he’s won?”

But Edison’s face changed as I pulled Nik away, seeing through my pleas of surrender. “I
told
you we were the same, Leica. And neither us would ever give up.”

Edison seemed to think for a second, then climbed into the plane and rooted around. A moment later he said, “Ah, here it is.” And came out holding the pouch of explosives.

“Thirteen seconds. You definitely don’t disappoint.” He pulled out the detonator and, almost amused, he tossed it on the ground. “I’ve asked you once before to come with me . . . here in this same
place.” Edison looked around the Indigno camp. “And now I’m asking you again. You know there’s nothing . . . no one . . . left for you inside that Dome.”

“They were your own people!” Rage shook my voice and I didn’t try to control it. Let him think he’d succeeded with his Decontamination Protocol. Let him stay cocky.

Fear tinged Nik’s words. “Edison, what did you do?”

In a cold voice Edison said, “I simply finished the job.”

I didn’t need a bomb or a self-destruct button. My second knife was already in my hand. My feet already moving.

I would’ve killed him.
We
would’ve. But Marisol suddenly burst into the clearing, flinging herself at Edison’s feet. “Don’t you dare leave me here!”

Her eyes were wild. Face caked with grit and tears. “They’re dead. All of them.” Her shredded dress dragged in the dirt as she clung to Edison’s legs, begging him. “You can’t just leave me here to die.”

There was a madness in her, and even Edison took some kind of pity on her. Or maybe her prostrations made him feel more powerful. Either way, he helped her up, wiped off her face, and lied. “You know I’d never leave you.”

I met Nik’s eyes. If we wanted to stop Edison, we’d have to kill them both now—if Marisol had proven anything, it was that she was a fighter. And they’d be painful, violent deaths—fists and knives. But I was a fighter too.

I adjusted my grip on the knife, six fingers wrapping tight around the hilt. Then I heard the
shick-shick
and I saw Edison’s gun pointed directly at my face. “Not tonight, sweet Leica. As much as I’d like one last dance, there’s simply no time.”

His gun was smaller than the Mother’s, but I guessed just as deadly. And like that, it was over.

“Like I said, life wants to live.” Edison shrugged, and gave us a smug grin as he helped Marisol onto the plane and slammed the doors. After all the planning, after all the fighting, there was nothing more to do. Numb with shock, Nik and I backed away as the engines roared into life. And through the shimmering waves of heat, I saw the pup running toward me. Tail wagging. Wonderfully alive.

Even as Edison and Marisol lifted off the ground—the wind of the engine scalding my face and throat—a tiny hope blossomed in my chest. With Edison gone, we could start over. The outside world would get what they wanted . . . and maybe we would too.

Edison had forgotten his own lesson—he’d underestimated us. If the pup had been saved, maybe Riya had been too. Maybe they all could be.

I crouched down, wrapping my arms around the pup as she barked madly at the rising plane. Then I saw it. Or rather, didn’t see it. The explosives, the detonator, they were gone.

Marisol.
She’d played the devoted Kisaeng so convincingly.

“Don’t look!” I grabbed onto Nik and pulled him to the ground just as the sky exploded with a flash of white. The plane combusted in a great orange fireball. Raining debris and ash and death down on all of us.