Evolution
Page 31
Should be surprised but I’m not, not with Xander involved. A mental snort. Wilf seems to have figured him out quicker than most. What can I do?
For now, just stay where you are and keep watch. Tell us if you see anything.
How about what I already saw? Freja ran into the center really fast a moment ago.
Do you know why?
No. She looked really rattled, though.
There’s a pause; a quick conversation, some angry faces.
JJ may have let something slip to Freja, Beatriz says. She might have worked out that we’re here.
There was also something going on in there earlier, Wilf says. I don’t know what. Materials moved in and out. Like they’re building something. But everyone else has left now—it’s just Xander and Freja.
And Shay.
Wait. Someone is coming. I don’t know her. She’s walking really slow, like she’s sick or something.
Show us.
He visualizes what he can see.
It’s Iona? Beatriz says. Quick, everyone: shield her so they won’t know she’s coming. Maybe there is something she can do.
Iona tries the door. It opens.
Freja unlocked it before, Wilf says. She was in such a hurry she must have forgotten to lock it again.
Iona goes through the door. Merlin runs from the grass behind her and just slips through with her before it shuts.
CHAPTER 27
SHAY
THE NOISE OUTSIDE MY ROOM—construction, probably, but I don’t want to think what they’ve been building—stopped a while ago.
Surely turning this into a fire room would take a while? Wouldn’t there be equipment and tech that Xander needs to get a hold of and assemble? Someone might miss me and come looking before it’s ready?
But then I’m remembering what I saw when I first came here—yesterday morning or the morning before or whenever it was. There were already changes.
He’s been planning this for a while. Hasn’t he? Even though he did the experiment with Cepta, he’d already worked out it probably wasn’t going to be enough doing it that way. Maybe she was arguing with his methods, or maybe he just killed her to tick all the boxes on his scientific method.
It’s too quiet, too still; quiet like the dead. My voice is raw. I can’t scream anymore. Hum—yes. I start humming a song I heard online back in Killin, before the world changed. What was it called? I can’t remember—it was by Tusks. I know I liked it, meant to download it but never got the chance. I focus on the words inside my head, on humming the tune just to hear something, anything.
Then there is a clunk.
I stop humming and sit up abruptly. That didn’t sound like the mike coming on this time.
It’s…the lock to the door?
It opens, and there is Xander.
“I thought we should say goodbye properly,” he says.
I fling an attack at his aura; he easily deflects it.
He’s a good foot taller and much stronger than me, but I have nothing to lose—a cliché, but it fits the here and now. I spring forward to grab his legs, almost manage to make him topple over. But then he backs out through the door and pulls me to my feet in the hall. He has me in some sort of lock hold. I can’t move at all.
Before he has a chance to say anything else, there is the thud of footsteps, coming this way—Freja rushes toward us. She’s radiating alarm.
“What is it?” Xander says, his voice calm.
“JJ is nearby,” she says, gasping. “I’m guessing some of the others may be too.”
I’m not in the quiet room anymore. I fling my mind outward: JJ? Beatriz?
“I wonder if they reasoned out what is the next logical step for us to take?” Xander says. “Do they want to witness the moment everything changes for us, or do they want to try to stop evolution?” His eyes weird out; he’s reaching, then they clear. “If they want to try to stop this, then they will be too late. They are too far away.”
Shay, are you all right? It’s Beatriz. I project to her what is happening, here, now.
“That’s not all!” Freja says. “There are others approaching too. Many of them—they’re not survivors—some kind of force? I don’t know who they are.”
“Interesting.” Xander’s eyes defocus, then return to normal. “It’s Kirkland-Smith and friends. We’re probably surrounded.”
Kirkland-Smith? SAR? Another surge of fear rushes through me and joins the others.
No, it’s okay. He’s not in charge, Beatriz says to me. He just showed them how to get here.
Them?
Armed forces; they’ve come to arrest Xander. Kai is with them.
Kai. He…he’s coming here? They’re here to arrest Xander?
Xander shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve seen where they are. They’re rushing toward us now, but they will be too late.” He leans down, kisses my forehead. “I do love you, Shay. Remember that, no matter what happens. Unfortunately, we can’t delay this any longer.”
This isn’t love, I spit at him in his mind, with all the fury I can gather, but his aura is steadfast, determined. He will do what he will, no matter what I say—convinced he is right in all things.
“There are controls.” He tells Freja what to do as he holds me. I struggle uselessly. There is a rush of warmth near us: the new walls around the quiet room are igniting. It must be well shielded to contain the fire, but we feel it begin through the open door.
Adrenaline and panic give me more strength. I fight against Xander with all that I am, but I still can’t get away.
He’s maneuvering me to the open door. Then there’s a black-and-white streak that launches itself at Xander—Merlin? His claws rake Xander’s arm and Xander falters, shaking Merlin off. I renew my efforts.
But then he kicks Merlin across the room—I gasp, winded, feeling his boot as if it is me he kicked—and now he’s pulled me in front of the door. I can feel the heat even more. My mind is going back to the other time I almost died in fire. The pain.
That time, Xander saved me.
Please, please, please don’t do this to me. And tears are running down my face.
He turns at a sound: footsteps. Someone else is coming down the hall toward us. Can it really be too late to stop this?
Yes.
Xander turns. He flings me away from him.
But…the wrong way? Out into the hall, and into Freja, not the converted quiet room. Instead he goes into it himself, hitting the door control on his way in.
Freja screams, launches herself at the door, and tries to release the lock, but it won’t. There must be a fail-safe to keep it locked when the fire has begun.
There is an increased rush and roar of flames now that the door is closed. Freja howls, falls to her knees, pounding on the door with her fists.
“Shay? Thank God.” Iona grabs me; her arms wrap around me. It was Iona we heard coming? Merlin limps over to us. He’s all right too. He’s giving me one of those superior looks cats can give—one that says I should have listened to him from the beginning.
“Is that Freja?” Iona asks me.
“Yes.”
“Xander is where?”
I gesture. “In there.”
We hear the flames. We hear his screams.
Not for long.
Iona pulls Freja to her feet, faces her. Freja’s face is wild.
Iona takes a swing; her fist connects. Freja crumples back down to the floor.
Iona stands above her, shaking her hand out like she hurt it.
“That. That’s what happens if you try to hurt my friend.”
CHAPTER 28
KAI
WE ALL CONVERGE on the place that Callie calls Community. The hotheads among us want to rush in with guns blazing, but Rohan listens to Beatriz and the others about what has gone down: th
at Shay is alive; that Xander took her place and may be a contagion by now—but that he’s in a sealed room and can’t get out as long as they don’t blow anything up.
So Rohan reins them in.
Callie shows us the way when we get to the research center. We rush down a hall to the quiet room. I see Freja first. She’s on the floor, crying, and I go to her, to help her. She seems to have a black eye. But she pushes me away.
And then when I look up, I see Shay. Iona is there too, arms around her. Shay’s eyes are on me, open wide. Full of pain.
There is this…space between us, even as I want to run to her. Then others are here, investigating the room where Alex is supposed to have died—survivors, and soldiers too—making sure there really are no cracks, no exits, no way out.
Someone says it had to be made that way, completely sealed, or it wouldn’t have worked—that as Alex is now, he won’t be able to open a door or do anything to get out.
And with all the noise and people around us, all I can do is look at Shay, across the room.
PART 7
COSMIC EVOLUTION
Imagine nothing: it is both the biggest and the smallest concept that the mind can encompass. Then came the big bang! Space, time, matter, and energy were all created in that one event. From nothing. One event, and one only, that came before everything. Or so they say…
—Xander, Multiverse Manifesto
CHAPTER 1
SHAY
IT IS SOME TIME LATER before I can bring myself to see Xander again. I have to do this. I have to be the one to tell him.
Until now, I’ve stayed away.
Survivors—JJ, Patrick, Zohra, a few others that have joined us now—have been guarding him in turn. The normals can’t even see that he exists in there, sealed in his room with his own ashes. They take our word for it that he can never be allowed to get out—the consequences that this would have. But as he is, he’ll go on forever, won’t he? We won’t. This risk can’t go on and on. We can’t allow it.
They’ve built a double lock structure around the fire room where he died. Patrick unlocks the first door, and I step through. It seals behind me. I stare at the second door—the one to the room where I was imprisoned, where I thought I was going to die. And I’m nervous, scared, even though I know he’s no threat to me now. He could make normals sick. He could make them burn, like Jenna did before. But not a survivor like me.
He can’t touch me, I remind myself, and knock. I don’t know why. They release the door remotely, and I open it.
And inside is a form of darkness—like Jenna once was. Cool and soothing to my eyes.
Shay. I hoped you’d come. Xander is pleased to see me, and I have no idea how I feel about that.
“You thought you’d thought of everything, didn’t you? The thing you missed was how to get out of here.”
When I built it, I thought you’d be the one inside, and I would be here to let you out. Afterward, when it was me, I was completely certain the armed forces would attack with their weapons and accidentally break me out at the same time.
“You knew they were coming? I mean, before Freja told you?”
Of course. How is Freja?
“In a secure mental facility. She’s really lost it.” And I know she’s ill, that I should feel sorry for her, but with all the trouble she caused—and pain—it’s hard.
Shame. She had a weak mind.
“A weakness you exploited. But you still failed. You didn’t know Kai was coming, that Callie brought Beatriz and the other survivors and the armed forces together through Kai. That they would cooperate.”
No. It’s fair to say I was…astonished at that development. Cooperation, I mean! Of course, any daughter of mine would have to be resourceful. And how about you and Kai? How are things going?
I don’t answer him. He can read into my silence whatever he wants. Kai and I have talked, but it hasn’t been great. He accepts that I left to find his sister, that Freja should have told him and didn’t. I accept that if it weren’t for that fact, he wouldn’t have gotten together with her.
But that doesn’t mean I can forgive him.
Or Freja. I know her mental state—and her fear—drew her to Xander, made her susceptible to him. But not passing my message to Kai? There is no reason she could give for that that I could accept.
Perhaps I should try another question. How are things going out there in the real world?
“The epidemic is essentially over. You know how I couldn’t detect differences between the immune and those who die? We did a closer study, bigger samples. There are just a few base pair changes in the immune that alter the structure of their DNA slightly—enough to stop the cascade reaction that kills people. It’s easy to change this in people—much easier than what I did to save Iona. We’ve been busy making everyone in at-risk areas immune. Also, the right wavelength of pure light destroys dark light, and can be used to decontaminate areas. This is why SAR’s bomb destroyed Jenna. It was a prototype that used light. Light treatment also cures the sick if they are reached early enough.” I don’t say out loud that it is hard to see how the UK can ever recover to anything like it was—not when something like eighty percent of the total population have died. And he did this.
Impressive work, he says, and he means the science that has achieved this—not what we’ve chosen to do. He wanted the epidemic, didn’t he?
And everyone else—how are they getting on with survivors?
“Mixed. In some places, they’re still having to be imprisoned for their own safety—or so the wardens say. In other places, they’re almost viewed as heroes by making people immune, healing them.” I don’t go into it, but that’s what I’ve been doing. I needed something to throw myself into. Conferring immunity, yes, but also healing cancer patients, broken arms, sickly babies—the works. It turns out that stuff I read on auras was half-right: which said those with rainbow auras were healers and star people. There have been no signs of excessive twinkling, so I’ll stick with healing.
Perhaps it is time for you to tell me why you’re really here.
“We can’t leave you like this forever.”
Out of sympathy? I doubt it. What do they have planned?
“The light that cures—it should destroy too. They’ve been experimenting with portable pure light sources. One is on its way here.”
I see. They’ve decided it’s time for a more final solution.
“I’m not sure you should use those words. Maybe they fit better with what you were planning to do—to kill everyone on the planet, leaving only survivors?”
Trying to convince yourself I deserve it, are you? How long have I got?
“A few days until they get everything here and test it, I think.”
That should be long enough.
* * *
I leave soon afterward. Xander didn’t seem surprised when I told him. He sounded relieved, happy even. But who would want to be a dark shadow of themselves sealed alone in a room forever?
That should be long enough, he said.
He asked for a recorder, someone to come in and write down the things he dictates. I don’t go back, but Patrick arranges it. Other survivors go in and transcribe it for him in shifts. Even though we’re not sure if we should, it’s hard to say no to someone’s last request.
He calls it the Multiverse Manifesto.
That last day I spoke to him, I didn’t ask the one question I desperately wanted answered. Was it because I’d never know if I should believe his answer?
Or maybe I was afraid.
The question was why: why did he, at the last possible moment, take my place in the fire?
Was it because he heard Iona’s footsteps and thought that justice was coming to get him, that there would never be any escape for him as he was? Was it desperation that made him decide to become his own contagion?
> Or maybe he did it to save me.
CHAPTER 2
CALLIE
TODAY IS THE DAY THAT MY FATHER WILL DIE.
Or will die again—like Jenna did.
I should probably care, at least a little, but I don’t. Maybe sometime later after it is all over, I’ll feel different. But Jenna is still so much a part of me. After all the things he did to her, it’s hard to feel anything about him at all when her hate for him is so strong inside me.
And Jenna died again like he will, yet somehow she is here in my mind. We’re still tangled together. Where will Xander go?
Jenna isn’t sure, but she thinks he may come to the same place where she is. She says that’s okay and that they’re ready, waiting.
Where is that? Who is waiting?
She says if I close my eyes, drift into dreams, she can show me…
CHAPTER 3
JENNA
I TAKE CALLIE BACK TO THE DAY I LEFT EARTH. I was with Shay and Chamberlain, covering them completely.
Something fell from the sky above us.
I fought to protect Shay, not to run away and save myself.
There was terrible pain.
Burning…
Tearing…
Peace.
And then…absolute, complete joy. It was a level of happy I’d never felt before, being delivered from the worst imaginable pain and fear to the most chilled, blissed-out state. Being everywhere—among each scattered galaxy and its stars, near and distant—and nowhere—all the vast nothing between—at once. And being every when too. I experienced it all: from the big bang that started things, to the next one, and the next. And all the while, this universe, and all the others, soothed, cradled, accepted me. There was no judgment.