Resurrection

by Katherine Macdonald

  No, not the goat. Someone else is up there too. I’m curious rather than concerned as I head up to investigate. It doesn’t feel like a threatening presence, and it isn’t: I find Scarlet stretched out in the sun on an old blanket. She’s wearing a white dress with a red ribbon wrapped around her head. The only time I’ve ever seen her out of combat boots and engine grease was when she was dressed up as a prostitute.

  “Evening,” she says, barely looking up.

  “Er… hi?”

  “That better not be judgement in your voice, supergirl. I happen to occasionally like wearing dresses. Especially in weather like this.”

  “No, no judgement! Just… surprised. I’m not interrupting a date, am I?”

  “Oddly enough, Scarlet did not dress up for the blind guy.”

  “No, you only undress for him.”

  She laughs. “Touche. I’ve missed you. Come sit with me.”

  This might be exactly what I need, just to sit with someone and talk about anything –anything– other than Nick and Pilot and the Institute. I join her on the rug. It feels like years since I’ve basked in the sun. I don’t quite know where to put myself.

  “Scarlet?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you… do you live here?”

  Scarlet chews her lip, trying to hide a wry smile. “Not quite,” she says. “We did talk about it, but we weren’t sure we were ready. Plus Mi’s room is a bit on the small side, so we would have had to move into yours, and no one, including me, was ready for that. So, yeah. No. I don’t live here.”

  “If you’re trying to be discreet because of what’s happening–”

  “'Course we are. We like you.”

  I open my mouth to say it’s not necessary, but “Thank you” comes out instead. I want the two of them to be happy, of course I do, but I appreciate the gesture. “I’m… I’m surprised to find everyone still here, to be honest. It would have made more sense to move to Phoenix HQ.”

  She shrugs. “This is your home. No one wanted to leave it. Plus I think everyone was secretly hoping that somehow, you’d come back. Rightly too, apparently.”

  “Believe me, I’m still shocked I’m alive.”

  “Genuine supergirl, keep telling you.”

  I want to know how she and Mi got together, but I’m not yet in the mood for someone else’s romance. Instead, I ask her a question which has been bugging me for some time.

  “Hey, Scarlet… what's your story?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you here? You don't have any disability that I've noticed, you’re probably too young to be an exiled hardened criminal, you don't sound like you're from Luca, and I've never heard you mention your family. How did you come here?”

  She sits up and claps her hands. “Oh, is it tragic backstory time?”

  “You don’t have to tell me–”

  “Pfft. I know yours. Only fair. So, technically, I am from Luca. I don’t remember it though. Mum was a councillor. Pretty high up, but not... not too high that she could have paid her way out of trouble. She struggled with mental health her entire life, but her family, and then my dad, helped her hide it. She got by well enough until he died in an accident.”

  “She... she had a breakdown, following your father's death... and they exiled her for it?”

  “No. She left. She was pretty sure they were going to do it sooner or later, and if she waited... she'd be asked to leave me behind. I was only about two at the time. So, she bundled me up one night with a few belongings, and came here, straight to Phoenix. It was the safest place for us at the time and she had a lot of intel to barter with.”

  A part of me wonders if that was the right thing to do, to bring a small child here that might have been better off in the city... but Scarlet's mother wouldn't have been better off without her daughter. And while Scarlet might have lived in relative luxury... would she have become a better person?

  “What happened to her? Your mother?”

  “Pax. Same wave that killed Nick's parents.”

  Nick. Why does everything come back to him? Why can’t I escape from him? “You've been friends ever since?”

  “Pax orphans and best friends forever.” She hangs her head slightly, and my throat clenches.

  “Scarlet...”

  “What?”

  “I'm... I'm so sorry for what happened to Nick. I know... I know how much you love him too.”

  “Hey. None of that is your fault, you hear? No one blames you.”

  “Pilot does.”

  “Pilot's an ass. No one else does, because it isn't your fault. You can't control what other people do.”

  “If I hadn't–”

  “You saved forty-six lives. The old Nick knew that was worth it. You know it was worth it.”

  “I am not the hero he thought I was.”

  “You were that day. And he's not the only one who thought you were a hero. We all did. We all do. Be that person again. You can be it for the Nick you loved, if you want, or you can be it for us, or the world, or for you. But don't doubt yourself. Don't lose yourself to grief.” Scarlet places a hand on my shoulder. “I used to think my mother was the strongest person I knew. To go through everything she went through, and still get up every morning that she could. She never gave up even when she really, really wanted to. But now... I think that you may be the strongest person I know. Or you will be, if you can conquer this.”

  It is really, really hard not to burst into tears at her words, but then the door downstairs clicks open, and Gabe returns. The distraction gives me just enough seconds to compose myself. I steel my face, and head down to welcome him home.

  Chapter 35

  Lessons with the chimeras continue for another few days. School is out, so Ben joins us for all of the sessions. I must admit, it’s good to see him play with the others, and he is the best of the team players.

  One afternoon, Rudy summons me to his office.

  “Thank you for coming,” he says the moment his door is closed. He sits down at his desk.

  “I live to serve.”

  I mean it as a joke, but the words fall out of me like I will comply. I do not live to serve. Not the Institute, not him. My organs tighten. I’m thrust back into another office, with another leader–

  “Are you all right?” asks Rudy. “You’re breathing–”

  “I’m fine,” I snap. “Can we go back to pretending you don’t give a damn? I liked that.”

  Rudy raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “If you wish,” he says coolly. “I have a job for you.”

  Good. I need a job, need a distraction. Something, anything. Preferably something where I can beat someone up and feel justified in doing so. “I’m all ears.”

  “Ashe...have you… have you ever heard of The Chosen?”

  The name rings a dim bell, but I can’t quite place it. “I don’t think so.”

  “They’re a…. a cult that crept up before the End of Days, warning mankind to change their ways. Coincidentally, of course, they were right about the End, but they used it to spread terror, suggesting if they were right about that, they were right about… other things. They were more or less stamped out following the construction of Luca, but a few fanatics have remained, rearing their ugly heads every so often, and… and recently have reared their heads again. They’re in the cities and the slums, spreading that the end of the world is once again nigh. They are vehemently anti-Phoenix and have been bombing places and attempting to blame us.”

  I recall Henson’s story, about a bombing that turned the people against us. “I heard something about that.”

  “Harris and Abi think they’ve narrowed down their location here to a rough area, but we’ve still not managed to pinpoint it. I want you –and the other chimeras if you think they’re ready– to track down their base and capture a member, if you can.”

  “Sounds great. Give us a couple of days to prepare?”

  “I doubt they meet every night. Take your time. When you do g
o, however, I would suggest not using your firepowers.”

  “I’ve really got much better at controlling them–”

  “Close quarters. Best not to risk it. Plus it could too easily signal who you are. Police presence here is… much tighter than it used to be. Please… don’t use them.”

  “‘Fraid of a few flames?”

  “Afraid of things getting out of hand.”

  “Sure. All right. Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Stealth is key, here. We don’t want them knowing we’re onto us.”

  It seems a bit silly to me –people are going to find out about my survival eventually– but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious, and I understand not wanting to tip off their other factions. I’m also not sure how much power the Institute exert over here, how closely they’ll be looking for me. Best to stay under the radar as much as possible.

  I head back to the gym and inform the chimeras of the mission, then decide now is as good a time as any to give them some practice in the field. I get the approximate coordinates from Abi, borrow some comms from Harris, and take them into town. We familiarise ourselves with the area, get our bearings so that everything is less disorientating in the dark, all the while evading the numerous guards. I am not used to the stillness of the market, the robotic nature of everyone’s actions there, almost afraid to speak.

  I keep my head down. There’s something else different about the marketplace, too. It’s less colourful, as if someone has dumped grey paint over a rainbow. Everything is grainy and distorted.

  No, it’s something worse.

  The Phoenix mural, which once adorned the site of an old warehouse, has been blacked out. The Government has destroyed it. It’s gone, every feather, every name of every fallen warrior, has been erased. If my name was ever there, it’s gone now, but what does mine matter next to all the countless others who gave their lives in the pursuit of a greater cause?

  Nick designed that mural. I chose my name from it when I arrived in the slums. It shouldn’t upset me, but I feel like a little part of my history has been erased. How everyone else feels doesn’t bear thinking about.

  Someone materialises at my side. A warm, familiar presence. Gabriel.

  “Are you all right?” He touches my arm.

  “I’m being sentimental. It’s nothing. What are you doing here?”

  He holds up a fresh rabbit. “Trading.”

  “Baz’ll give you the best price. He likes us.”

  “So I hear. What are you doing here?”

  “A training exercise. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Right on cue, my device starts up. “Bullet to Firebird, this is Bullet to Firebird, please respond.”

  “I should get that,” I tell Gabe.

  “Of course.”

  “If… if you ever want to join us, you’d be welcome.”

  “I kinda feel I’ve had enough of that life.”

  I can understand that. “I should take some time off, and come hunting with you.”

  He nods. “I’d like that.”

  We say a farewell, and I return Bullet’s call, bringing everyone back together shortly afterwards. They are more comfortable moving about the slums, and we agree to come back tomorrow to see if we can discern a pattern to the guards’ shifts and placements. Finding The Chosen hideout won’t mean much if we’re captured by Lucans doing it.

  “What will happen… if we get captured by Lucan guards?” Bullet asks, not quite hiding the tremor in his voice.

  “Luca has links to the Institute. In all probability, we’d be shipped back there,” says Lili matter-of-factly. I shoot her a sharp look. “What?”

  “And how probable is it that we’ll be caught, Lili?”

  “Presuming that we take the time to gather the appropriate intel and take necessary precautions, this mission is low-to-medium risk.”

  “Thanks, that’s much more comforting," I say. "See, boys? Nothing to worry about.”

  Joni trembles. “But what if we do–”

  “Then you fight back. Keep fighting. And when that doesn’t work, minimise your efforts and conserve your energy so that you can run when I come to bust you out. No one is going back to that place.”

  “Statistically speaking–”

  “Put a sock in it, Lili,” I suggest, making a mental note to ask Abi to talk to her about when predictions are thoroughly unhelpful. “No one is going back to that place. Do you hear me?”

  Joni pipes up quietly. “There are people still there, though. Are you… are you going to go back for them?”

  “Yes. When I’m ready. If you’ll help me.”

  They all nod.

  “Good. But one step at a time. That’s enough for today. Let’s head back.”

  Chapter 36

  Later that evening, after Ben has gone to bed, I finally gather Abi and Mi together and tell them about what happened back at the Institute, namely about Eva, the other me, and Moona. Gabe sits quietly in the corner as I recount all of this, raising his eyebrow when I mention the clones. I had not yet found the time to tell him about this, either.

  Abi’s face is quizzical to say the least. I cannot tell if she’s surprised, or if she suspected this all along.

  “Abs?”

  “I knew there was a possibility of the Institute having other facilities,” she explains. “But the clones… what does that mean?”

  “It’s messed up,” Gabe hisses.

  “For us, yes. But for them, they’ll be a reason. What could it be? Why have multiple Eves?”

  “And Moonas. Although that won’t be her name.”

  “She’s not Moona,” Mi says sharply. “No more than I’m Gabe. She’s not Moona, and that other Eve wasn’t you. She’s just a clone.”

  Was she though? I think of her retort. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not test that theory. She certainly sounded like me. But sass shouldn’t be genetic. How can I be so similar to a person I’ve never met?

  “Or my twin,” I whisper, “by that same logic.”

  Mi shrugs. “Think what you will, but you’ll feel better if you don’t try to create a connection that isn’t there.” He stands up. “I’m beat. Going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He shuffles off down the corridor, closing his door a little roughly behind him. I turn to Gabe. “Is he OK?”

  “I think he’s worried if you think about all the other Institutes out there, all the other versions of us… of Moona, Archer and Forrest… you’ll want to rescue them all too.”

  “I do want to rescue them all,” I tell him. “I don’t care if there’s five other Institutes or a hundred, I will burn them all down, one by one, until the whole world knows that you don’t get to control people.”

  “And we’ll help you,” Abi insists, “just… don’t do anything rash.”

  I seize her hand. “I won’t do anything rash, and I won’t do anything without you. I promise.”

  “I’ll come up with a better plan next time.”

  “Yeah, the last one had a few hitches…”

  She smiles weakly, and looks to Gabe. “Do you really think Mi won’t want to help?”

  “Oh, he will. That’s his other problem. He cares too much. He doesn’t want to think about the others either. Better to keep your distance.”

  I know that feeling. That feeling murders my own steeled heart, and Mi has always been the kindest of us all. I spent years trying to get him to be a little more like me, to spare him from feeling everything he felt. It didn’t work.

  “Will you talk to him?” I ask Gabe.

  “Will it involve me having to be a decent person and pretend I care about anyone outside of these four walls?”

  “Yes. Can you do it?”

  He sighs, climbing to his feet. “The things I do for you…”

  “This is for Mi.”

  “And thus, I must do it. Very well.” He gives me a weak smile, and shuffles off after him. How is Gabe really adjusting, I wonder? I can’t exactly
make him care about any of the world outside –it took me long enough– but it doesn’t feel right any more. I really need to spend some time with him.

  But there is nothing more that I can do today, so I head to bed.

  ◆◆◆

  The next morning, I delay the start of lessons with the other chimeras to head down to Harris’ fire-proof cell and practise my powers. He is impressed with my progress, particularly my control. My vitals don’t spike nearly as much as they used to.

  “How are you healing?” he asks.

  I stretch my split-free hand. “It’s almost as good as new. Burns still look messy. Muscles are a bit sore.”

  “Remarkable,” he sighs. “I wish everyone healed as easily as you do!”

  Is he talking about himself? Harris was born this way, from what I hear. There’s nothing to heal. He must read something in my face.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not talking about myself,’ he says hastily. “I was thinking more of Julia’s patients, all the Phoenix crew that get injured on missions…”

  This makes sense, and yet…

  “Harris… I know you’re not exactly broken, but… if you could walk… would you want to?” It’s a question that’s been burning in me for some time now, partly because I have no idea what it’s like not to have a body as efficient as mine, and partly because I have always wanted to know if Mi wants to see again, only I’m far, far too afraid to ask.

  “Actually," Harris responds, "I can walk with a frame, just very, very slowly.”

  “You don’t need to tell me,” I add, “if it’s too personal…”

  “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve answered it enough times by now. The short answer is no, not really. It might be more convenient, but this is me, you know? I wouldn’t want to change me. Have you met me? I’m great!”

  “Well, I can’t disagree with that.”

  “As long as I’ve got decent access, which I do here, it’s all good. I kind of feel like the world should want to change, not me.”