The Descartes Evolution

by N. J. Croft

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Talbot hesitated.

  “Look,” Luke said roughly, “if we want any chance of getting the fuckers who killed Callum, we need to get away from here now.” He put his hand on the other man’s arm. “It’s what Callum would have wanted.”

  Talbot glanced back the way he had come, nodding. They climbed into the dark vehicle and drove away, leaving their friend behind.

  Was it all worth it?

  Then he remembered the African village and imagined the devastation the same poison would have caused in the densely populated city of London.

  He slumped on the seat, his elbows resting on his thighs, his head drooping from exhaustion, and for the first time in his life, he prayed. Prayed that Jenna was still alive.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Lauren sat in a red brocade chair, a laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. She glanced up as Jenna hovered in the open doorway and tilted her head at the laptop. “I thought you’d like to know, I’ve heard back from the clean-up team. They found one body.”

  Jenna stepped into the room, holding her breath as she waited for Lauren to go on. The woman was a sadistic bitch. Lauren smiled as though she could read Jenna’s thoughts. “Not your Mr. Hockley, you’ll be pleased to know.”

  Relief washed through her so strong she sank down onto the seat behind her, her legs trembling with shock. “Who was it?”

  “They don’t know, but perhaps you do.” She reached down and turned the laptop so Jenna could see the screen. It was Callum, clearly dead. Jenna closed her eyes briefly against the image.

  “I take it you know him.”

  “His name was Callum, but I don’t know any more than that.”

  “And no doubt wouldn’t tell me if you did.”

  Rage exploded inside her. Jenna clenched her fists at her side and fought the urge to leap up and punch the woman who sat across from her so complacently. If she did, she’d be dead before she could sit back down. She had an idea Lauren was the sort of woman who would leave nothing to chance.

  The rage drained from her as suddenly as it had come, leaving her lost. She was out of her depth. The information about her father had hit her harder than she realized, and she still didn’t know who her mother was, or what was happening to her. Or why Lauren was treating her like an honored guest.

  “Why are you being so…”

  “Civilized?”

  Jenna nodded.

  Lauren rose to her feet. For a moment, she stared down at Jenna, then she turned away to pace the room. Finally, she came back to stand in front of her. “The Conclave recruits many new members, but those people tend to know very little of the inner workings of the organization. They are usually content with the benefits membership brings, but the inner circle, those at the top, are usually hereditary. The children of those families are brought up to know their destiny.”

  “How melodramatic,” Jenna drawled.

  Lauren smiled at her obvious sarcasm. “Believe me, it was.”

  “That was the case with you?”

  She nodded.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Jenna asked.

  Lauren held out her hand. Jenna eyed her suspiciously for a moment.

  “Come, if you want to understand.”

  Jenna ignored the hand but stood up and followed Lauren across the room to stand in front of a large gilt-edged mirror. The reflection showed them standing side by side. They were of a similar height, both blond, both blue-eyed. Something stirred deep down in Jenna’s mind, but for a minute, she refused to acknowledge it. In the mirror, she saw Lauren smile, and her own eyes widen in horror. She stepped away and shook her head as though she could somehow make the idea go away.

  “Earlier you asked who your mother was.”

  Jenna’s mind was screaming a refusal. “No. I don’t believe you. You said you and my father had never—”

  “Oh, we didn’t. You can be sure of that, but then you were hardly a conventional baby.”

  Nausea churned in her stomach, her mouth flooding with saliva, and she pressed a hand to her lips. Lauren drew her brows together and pointed across to the door. “Bathroom across the hall.”

  Jenna whirled, stumbled into the bathroom, and only just made it, vomiting into the toilet, retching until her stomach was empty and then some more. Afterward she stood studying her face in the mirror. She could see the resemblance now. It was why Lauren had appeared so familiar.

  Like staring into a mirror.

  It didn’t mean anything. Nobody got to choose their family, but she couldn’t help but wonder what other genetic traits she shared with an immoral killer.

  She wanted to deny it, but the truth was she remembered her now. One of her earliest childhood memories. She could see an image of a tall woman standing over her. Her father had always cuddled her, held her close on the occasions he came to visit. But this woman held herself aloof, and Jenna was glad—she didn’t want to be touched by her. She scared her, and she didn’t know why, when the woman was so pretty.

  But one time she had reached for her, and Jenna recoiled. The woman’s eyes had narrowed on her.

  “You know, I don’t think the little bitch likes me,” she murmured.

  Her father had laughed and taken her in his arms so she could hide her face against the curve of his shoulder.

  She opened her eyes and banished the memory. Turning on the tap, she splashed her face then patted it dry with the towel, taking her time, putting off the moment when she would need to go back and discover the truth.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and returned to the sitting room. Lauren handed her a glass. Jenna raised it to her nose and sniffed—brandy. She sipped it, swirling the liquid in her mouth to take away the sour taste, and sat down.

  The laptop was open on the table, still showing the image of Callum dead, and she reached out and slammed down the lid.

  Lauren sat opposite and sipped her own drink while studying Jenna. “You know, I’ve never considered myself the maternal type, but that was hardly a flattering reaction.”

  “Why the hell would I want to flatter you?” She finished the drink and placed the glass carefully on the table. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

  “I believed you were dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because twenty-two years ago, I gave the order for you to be terminated, and until these last couple of days, I never doubted the order had been carried out.”

  “You wanted me dead?”

  “At the time, it seemed like a good idea. I did tell you I wasn’t the maternal type, and I never really considered you my child.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, ask. Whatever you like, because you may not get this opportunity again.”

  Jenna thought for a moment. Back to when it had all started and the letter from her father. “What is Descartes?”

  Lauren smiled. “An excellent question.” She sat back in her chair, swirling the drink in her hand. “What do you know?”

  Jenna forced down the frustration. “It’s a place on the moon.”

  “Yes, it is—the Descartes Highlands. It was the site of the Apollo 16 landing. What isn’t generally known is the astronauts found something on the Descartes Highlands, something not made known to the public.”

  Lauren paused to take a sip of her drink, and Jenna bit back the need to scream at her to hurry up. Her whole body tingled with the knowledge that she was on the edge of learning something huge. Some truth that would change her world forever.

  “Tell me.”

  “They found the wreck of an alien spaceship. It was old, maybe thousands of years old, probably crash-landed. They brought back samples of what was found there. It came into Conclave hands, as many things do, and the discovery was hushed up. As a matter of intere
st, do you know the name of the astronaut who brought it back? John Young. Trust your father to pick that name.”

  “What has this got to do with me?”

  “Well, part of what was brought back was dust collected from inside the wreckage. The dust appeared to contain something similar to our own DNA. We were carrying out all sorts of experiments, but John decided it would be interesting to try to combine alien DNA with human DNA and see what we could produce. The technology was new and experimental, but your father was at the forefront.”

  Jenna’s mind went blank at the implications of what she was being told.

  “We used in vitro fertilization, your father’s sperm, my egg—”

  “Why?” Jenna interrupted. “Why did you use your eggs? Why not some stranger’s?”

  Lauren lifted one slim, elegant shoulder. “To be honest, it was John’s idea, and I thought it would be amusing.”

  “Amusing?” Jenna glared at her, allowing the hatred to show in her face.

  Lauren ignored the question and the look. “Anyway, once we had a viable embryo, the alien DNA was added into the mix. You were grown in an artificial womb, and at nine months, you were ‘born.’

  “At first you seemed like a normal baby. Well, not quite normal—you were perfect. Your father had gotten a little creative with the genetic modification. They were still learning how, but he identified any genetic markers that might result in imperfections and altered them.” She smiled. “You were his creation. He was so proud of you. I should have known he would never have terminated you, that he would lie to me to save you.”

  A flash of rage shot through Jenna. “Terminated? Don’t you mean murdered?”

  Lauren pursed her lips. “That would imply I thought of you as human.” Her gaze wandered over Jenna’s figure, finally coming to rest on her face. “At that point I didn’t. You were an experiment.”

  “Would it have made any difference? You seem to find killing humans easy, as well. I saw the report of the people you slaughtered in Ivory Coast.”

  Lauren shrugged. “I don’t see them as people, either. They’re just numbers. The tests had to be done. We had to know the poison would dissipate.”

  “And they didn’t matter?”

  “Now, you can’t accuse me of being a racist. I’m not, but the place was convenient and easy to hide…though obviously not easy enough.”

  Jenna shook her head. It occurred to her she was standing in the presence of pure evil. Pure evil with her blood. What did that make her?

  Lauren was still studying her, a small frown furrowing the spot between her eyes. “It never occurred to me John would lie.”

  “Why was I supposed to be terminated? What happened?”

  “For the first few years you appeared quite normal. Maybe a little brighter than average, stronger. Your vision and hearing were actually off the scale, but nothing disturbing. After you reached four, your metabolism altered. At first, we just monitored you. Then people started to die. Your nanny, one of the lab technicians, a member of the Conclave who’d been unfortunate enough to visit.” She looked at Jenna and smiled. “So you see, we’re alike after all. Or maybe you’re worse—I didn’t kill my first person until I was at least twenty-one.”

  Bitterness etched into her mind. “You made me what I am.”

  “Perhaps, but really your father must take some of the blame. We discovered your system was producing some sort of toxin, highly poisonous to anyone you made contact with. Your father and I became ill, but he’d already been working on a suppressant. He modified that; we took it and recovered. He claimed he could keep you safe, you wouldn’t be a problem, but the orders had come from above. It was decided you were too dangerous to keep alive, and we were ordered to terminate immediately.”

  “Of course you always follow orders.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Actually, yes. I didn’t always find it easy, but you don’t disobey the Conclave and expect to live. These days I tend to give more orders than I receive, so things are considerably easier.”

  “What happened?”

  “John told me he’d terminated you, destroyed your body. Instead, he spirited you away along with a supply of the suppressant he must have been stockpiling. He told me he’d destroyed that, as well. I could see he was distraught, and I believed him. Turns out, he was a good actor. Afterward, he wanted out. He said he’d lost faith, couldn’t go through it again, and so I let him go.”

  “Why did you help him?”

  “Why? Because he was my friend. I’m not quite so sentimental these days, but he had to disappear. The Conclave don’t allow their employees to just leave, not while they’re still valuable. I told him how and where to get a new identity, but I didn’t want the details. I believed that was the last I’d ever hear of him.”

  She stood up and crossed the room, poured herself another brandy, and raised her glass to Jenna. Jenna nodded and Lauren brought the bottle over and placed it on the table in front of her. “You look like you’re in shock. But really, what did you think was going on? Your father must have told you something. You must have been taking the suppressant all these years or you’d have been leaving a very obvious trail of dead people.”

  “He told me I had a strain of Huntington’s.”

  “And you believed him?” Lauren’s eyes widened in mock disbelief.

  “Why shouldn’t I have believed him?” she snapped. “He was a doctor and my father. I had no reason not to believe him.” She leaned forward, poured half a glass of brandy, and took a large gulp. The liquid burned her throat and lit a fire in her belly. Swallowing another mouthful, she glared at Lauren. She could see the faint amusement in the other’s woman’s expression and the ever-present anger uncurled inside her. “What was I supposed to think? That no, I didn’t have a perfectly normal human disease, but I was half alien? You know what? That never even occurred to me!”

  “Not half, actually. Only about five percent.”

  “Really? That makes me feel much better.” She got to her feet. “I’ve had enough of the company. I’m going to my room.” She turned to go then stepped back and picked up the bottle and glass.

  “I’ll get Summers to bring you a meal.”

  Jenna’s anger flared again. “Will you stop being so fucking civilized?” She glared at Lauren. “You’re a murderer. You tried to have me killed when I was four. You no doubt gave the order for me to be tortured two days ago. Now you’re being all sweet and nice and…” She broke off. “I don’t understand why. What is it you want from me?”

  “You mean you haven’t already guessed?”

  No, she hadn’t guessed. Or maybe she wasn’t ready to know. Hugging the bottle to her chest, she stalked out of the room.

  Jenna slammed the door behind her, crashed the bottle and glass down on the table, and flung herself on the bed.

  Her head was spinning, and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

  She lifted her hand and examined it. Could it be true that she wasn’t entirely human? She looked human. She felt human. But even as those words went through her mind, she knew they were a lie.

  Over the last few days, she’d experienced changes within herself, as though something was awakening, uncoiling sleepily inside her, stretching and peering out through her eyes.

  What were they like, these aliens? Where did they come from? As a child she’d often had dreams of a land she’d known wasn’t earth, a place of cerise skies and purple haze. Her father had blamed the drugs and adjusted her medication. But had that land been their home, or another planet they had visited?

  How much did Lauren know? Did they have any information? Had they done any other research?

  Something struck her—she didn’t have Huntington’s disease. The truth might be much worse, but the specter of the inevitable slide into insanity had hovered over her all her life. There was no cure for Huntington’s. Her
father had told her that. Now a weight lifted from her mind.

  Lauren must have a supply of the medicine her father had been giving to Jenna. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so willing to spend time with her. Maybe she could keep taking the medicine and have some sort of normal life. A vision flashed before her of Luke. Where was he? Was he even still alive? She wished she had some way of contacting him.

  Luke was out there, and he would be infected. The poison they had tested in Africa had taken only hours to kill. Obviously, whatever she was producing was less virulent, but all the same, she needed to get the cure to him, if Lauren could be persuaded to give it to her.

  Lauren—her mother.

  As a child, Jenna had dreamed of a mother. She’d always presumed whoever she was, she’d had good reasons for abandoning them. But then, she’d also believed her father had loved her mother and was pining away for her, which was why he’d never dated anybody else.

  Maybe he’d been pining for Professor Merrick. She gave a shudder. The man had given her the creeps, yet her father had obviously cared for him.

  Had she ever really known her father at all?

  He’d seen her as his creation, Lauren had said. But had he loved her? She believed deep down that he had.

  A light tap sounded on the door, and she glanced up. Summers entered the room, carrying the tray, which he put down on the table next to the bottle of brandy. The savory scent of warm chicken filled her nostrils, and her stomach rumbled.

  Summer’s expression was blank, and Jenna didn’t bother trying to question him, because she knew it would be a waste of time.

  Once the door had closed behind him, she fell on the food. Afterward she sat back and thought about how to approach Lauren.

  She needed to find out exactly what the other woman wanted and decide if she was willing to give it in exchange for the medicine and the information she needed.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “Can you test to see if I’m infected?”

  Smith looked up as Luke entered the cell. “You have the things I asked for?”