Origin (25 page)

He nods, then grins. “Did you see what that crazy
karaíba
woman was wearing? All white, flimsy material. It was covered in mud. Almost as stupid as that dress you had on. Remember?”

“I remember.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t spread to my eyes. I’m still too upset after this morning’s Wickham test.
I feel this terrible already, and I haven’t even done it yet.

Eio’s fingers gently turn my chin so that my eyes meet his. He takes a strand of my hair and slowly runs his fingers down its length. “I can’t lose you, Pia bird,” he whispers.

He stands so close, I can smell the jungle on his skin. Bananas and papaya, the smoke of Ai’oan fires, the smell of the earth and the river. It’s intoxicating, his scent. It slips into my bloodstream and pounds through my heart, both electric and soothing. I could run the circumference of the earth or I could stand here for eternity with this boy. It doesn’t matter which, as long as he’s beside me.

What kind of science is this?

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to show you something.”

He leads me a short distance downriver, where one of the largest kapoks I’ve ever seen grows several yards from the water. The buttress roots rise at least five to six feet above our heads, and the base of the trunk is as large as my bedroom in the glass house. Eio leads me to the other side of the tree, where a root arches outward before plunging to the ground, creating a shelter. Moss drapes over the root like a curtain, and Eio pulls it aside so we can go in. Even standing up, the underside of the root is several feet above my head. The sunlight filters through the moss, tinting our skin pale green.

“Look,” Eio says, running his hand on the underside of the root. Carved into the bark is a heart the size of his hand.

“Did you do that?” I ask, tracing it with my finger.

He shakes his head. “My mother and father.”

I press my hand against the heart. “How long ago?”

“Before I was born. But my mother showed it to me not long before she died.”

“How did she die?”

The skin on his face grows taut, and his eyes, focused on the heart, turn cold. “Achiri told me it was malaria. But I have seen malaria, and this was not it.” He leans against the tree trunk, hands at his sides. “My father stopped coming to visit. I was very young and don’t remember much, but I remember her eyes became hollow, and she stopped talking. She went to the village of the scientists and waited outside the lightning fence, but he didn’t come. So she wasted away. She died of a broken heart. She died because she lost hope that he would ever come back.”

“But he did come back. You said he visits regularly.”

“By that time, it was too late. She was dead.” He stares
at the ground, the vein in his neck pulsing visibly. “He was very angry when he found out. At first, he wanted nothing to do with me. I didn’t care. I was angry with him. I thought it was his fault she died. Then he started coming to Ai’oa again to see me. He told me he tried to come before Míma died but that the scientists prevented it. Still…it was a long time before I forgave him.”

My hand is still on the carved heart, and Eio covers it with his own.

“He loved my mother,” he whispers.

I stare at Eio’s hand on mine, then at the taut cords of the tendons on his forearm. I turn my head so I can stare up at his face. “And you’re afraid I’m going to do the same thing, aren’t you? That I’m going to leave you or that they’ll take me away.”

He nods, his eyes burning into mine.

“But I won’t leave you,” I say. “I’ll come whenever I can—”

“Is this a game to you, Pia?”

“What?”

“Coming here. Seeing me. What am I to you? A toy? A distraction?”

“Eio—”

“I want you here, Pia.
Here.
Not locked in a cage. Not surrounded by electric fences and glass walls. Not when you feel like it or when you can manage to sneak away, but every day. All the time. Do you think we can go on like this forever? You sneaking out when you can. Me always waiting, wondering if you’ll show up or not. Never knowing how long you’ll stay. Never knowing if you’ll even come back at all.”

I stare at him speechlessly.

“Because for me, Pia bird, it’s not a game. I don’t want to
be a distraction or a toy. I don’t want to always be waiting for someone who may not even come. I need to know what you want. Do you want to be a ‘scientist,’ locked away in there”—he points in the general direction of Little Cam—“or do you want to be free with me? Because you can’t do this forever. You can’t have both.” He takes my hands. “Pia bird, you will have to choose.”

“I…don’t know. I don’t know, Eio.” I feel tears. I blink them away and try to force words from my lips. “I want both. I want you. I want my immortals. I want…”
I want, I want…what
do
I want?

“I want a place to belong,” I whisper at last.

“You could belong in Ai’oa. You could belong with me.”

“I can’t. Why don’t you see it?” Frustrated and confused, I stop, breathe, and start again slowly, trying to make him understand. “I will never be Ai’oan. I may live in the jungle, but I am still a foreigner. You Ai’oans are part of this place. The jungle is in your blood.”

“That doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. The rest of it is just a distraction.”

No, it’s you. You are the distraction…only I
want
to be distracted.…

“Eio, I—”

He lifts my hand from the root and presses it to his bare chest, over his heart. My breath stops. I wonder if he can feel the pulse racing in my wrist, because it’s beating just as quickly as his heartbeat.

“Do you know the Ai’oan word for
heart
?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“It’s
py’a
.” We’re so close, his whisper is right in my ear, and his breath warms the side of my neck. “
You
are my heart, Pia.”

I lick my lips. When did they get so dry?

His other hand cradles the back of my head, tipping my face upward. “A body can’t live without a heart. And I can’t live without you.”

I can’t think of a single thing to say. Nothing here makes sense. None of this is in Dr. Falk’s plan or in Uncle Paolo’s syllabus. I don’t know what to do, what to say. I wasn’t trained for moments like this. No one told me this could happen. Uncle Paolo, Uncle Antonio, Mother—none of them ever breathed a word to me about such a phenomenon. About how standing so
close
could set your skin on fire.

About the urge to be even closer.

I can see every detail of his face. The individual lines of color in his irises. Each fine, dark hair curling over his forehead. The shadow of beard stubble, just visible on his jaw line and over his lips.
His lips.…

Eio’s eyes slowly wander to my mouth, and he leans down.…

“
There
you two are!” a small voice shouts.

Eio and I break apart as if repelled by electric shock. The moss rustles as Ami ducks beneath it, her golden tamarin clinging to her shoulder and looking a little green in the face as she bounces. “We’ve been looking for you, Eio. The others are ready to hunt, and they sent me—” She stops and stares at us, then a sly grin creeps across her face. “
I
know what
you
two were doing.” She starts giggling, then makes kissing noises at her monkey.

“We weren’t doing anything!” I say, though I feel the blood rushing to my face as if it’s on a mission to betray me. “We were just talking. Come on, we wouldn’t want Eio to miss his
hunt
.”

I brush the moss aside and blink in the sudden sunlight. Eio and Ami follow, the little girl dragging him by the hand. His eyes follow me, but I can’t look at him. I don’t want him to see how red my face must be or how I can’t seem to stop swallowing. My heart is still playing a tattoo against my ribs, and I avoid his eyes by leading the way back to the village.

Luri, her pregnant belly looking ready to pop, offers me a spear. “You can watch if you want to.”

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I should go home.”

She narrows her eyes. “Are you okay, Pia bird? These boys…” She glances at Eio. “They sometimes get a little too…excited, eh? You have to learn how to hit, you know? Teach them to keep their hands to themselves.” She holds up a fist and grins.

“What? No. I’m fine. Really. I just need to get home.”

She shrugs and tosses the spear to another Ai’oan. I can see Eio trying to get to me, shouldering his way through the villagers. I turn and begin walking in the direction of Little Cam, then stop and wait on the edge of the village until he reaches me.

“You’re leaving?” he asks.

I nod, eyes on my shoes, then I slowly lift them to his face. “I’ll be back.”

“You don’t have to leave.” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he steps closer and whispers, “Watch the hunt.
Then, later, maybe we can go back to the river. Without Ami.” He raises his eyebrows invitingly.

Trying not to give in to the butterflies, which whirl in my stomach and urge me to say
yes, yes, yes
, I shake my head. “No, I…I really should get back.”

He stares pleadingly but must see I’m resolute, because he sighs and nods. “Okay. Go on, then. But first…” He reaches into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulls something out. “Here. I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

He’s holding a tiny bird in his hand, carved from the same stone as his jaguar. It’s in midflight, with one wing over its head and the other below. A thin cord of tightly braided fibers threads a hole in the bird’s upper wing, creating a necklace.

“Oh, Eio. It’s beautiful.”

He shrugs again. “Just a thing. Nothing special. But it’s for you.”

“Eio gave the Pia bird a gift!” squeals Ami. She is standing at my elbow, and I hadn’t even seen her until she spoke. “That means—”

With a shout, Eio picks her up by her waist and whirls her around. When he sets her down again, he gives her a firm push. “Go! And stop talking! You talk like your mother the monkey, never shutting up!”

She makes a face at him and flounces off, the golden tamarin scampering at her heels.

“What does it mean?” I ask curiously.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just a stupid…You can give it back, you know.”

“No, I want to keep it.”

“Fine,” he says, still surly. “It’s nothing.”

Despite his nonchalance, he watches closely as I close my fingers around it, then tuck it safely in my pocket. “Thank you,” I whisper, then add, “Watch for me.”

The look he gives me seems to say
Always
.…

I
sneak back into Little Cam the same way I got out. This time, however, my concentration is so rattled, I’m not quick enough. The electricity sears my hand, and I yelp and fall clumsily to the ground. I’m not hurt, but five thousand volts of electricity and a fifteen-foot fall aren’t exactly pleasant, even for me. I groan and lie there for a moment, lacking the will to get up. My hand tingles, but at least the pain drives away some of the panic that’s been buzzing in my head, courtesy of Eio.

He was going to kiss me.
Kiss
me. Another second, and our lips
…I breathe fast and shallow, not because of exhaustion, but because of terrified wonder. I pull the carved bird he gave me from my pocket and stare at it.
Would I have done it?
Would I have let him? I wanted to, that’s for sure. In that moment, when he was so close and warm and vibrant, I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine. But now, surrounded by my familiar Little Cam, I wonder if I really
would have gone through with it. The prospect both thrills and alarms me at once.

He was going to
kiss
me.

I hear footsteps and climb hastily to my feet, tucking the bird back into my pocket. Uncle Timothy comes around the corner of the maintenance building with an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder, and when he sees me, he shakes his head and sighs.

“What are you up to, eh?”

“Sorry. I was taking a walk and got too close.” I’m certain he can hear my heart booming. I know
I
can.

Uncle Timothy looks from me to the fence, then studies the jungle beyond. “I walked all this way just because you bumped the fence?”

I swallow and nod.

His dark eyes turn back to me, and I can see he’s not completely buying it.

“I said sorry,” I tell him. “It’s not like no one’s done it before. People touch the fence by accident all the time.”

He nods slowly. “Yes…they do. But you don’t.”

I shrug, doing my best to look nonchalant, and start walking past him, but he stops me and bends to look in my eye.

“Not doing anything stupid, are you, Pia?”

“No! Let go of me. I have to…meet Uncle Paolo. I’m late.”

He follows me as I walk, and though he tries to look casual, I know he’s still suspicious. So I make my way to A Labs, and as I walk through the door, I turn and see Uncle Timothy watching. Now I’ll have to find something to do in here for at least an hour or he’ll just get suspicious all over again.

I go upstairs and start hunting for Uncle Paolo. I pass
Uncle Haruto and Uncle Jakob, who are talking quietly in the hall, and they both nod as I go past. Uncle Paolo is alone in the lab next to mine, and he doesn’t even hear the door open. He’s bent over a table, arranging pictures of people’s faces. I come up behind him and watch. The faces are blank and unsmiling; they are all strangers.

“Pia!” Uncle Paolo finally notices me. “What are you doing in here? I thought the door was locked.”

“It wasn’t.”

He glances around like a startled monkey; is there something he doesn’t want me to see? But after taking stock of what’s in the open and visible to my eyes, he relaxes and doesn’t order me out.

“What are you working on?” I ask. “Who are they?”

He looks down at the pictures. “They’re the first generation of Project 793.”

“Project 793?”

He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the table. “Corpus…has expressed a desire for us to move forward with creating more immortals.”

“And…that’s Project 793.”
We are going to make Mr. Perfect
, I think, remembering what Aunt Harriet said once. “And them?”