Locked doors seemed an apt metaphor for most of the Dome. Ancient inaccessible computer programs. Children behind tall walls. Women who simply vanished.
“But,” Nik added, seeing my frustration, “that just means Grimm isn’t the right man for the job.” And he stopped to think for a moment. “You said Jenner brought the files up on the central computer in the Genetics Lab?”
I nodded.
“Then I have a friend who might be able get us a copy.”
“Really?” I tried not to sound surprised. It was just that I’d gotten the feeling that life in the Dome hadn’t been kind to Nik—after all, he’d chosen to hide away the middle of a forest. So, who in this place would Nik consider a friend?
But I didn’t pry. I simply said, “Thanks. That would mean a lot to me.”
Grimm started combing his beak through my spiky hair. Making his ridiculous awwraaaaawk noise. I reached up to pet him. “Maybe Grimm could still be a help. I’d like to get a better idea of Jenner’s movements. Or really, any sort of activity around the Lab.” Edison said he was keeping an eye on Jenner, but I wasn’t really sure anymore if he and I had the same motives.
Nik studied Grimm for a moment—that protective look on his face again—then finally nodded. “We’ll have to be careful, though. Jenner knows about Grimm and he’s easy to spot . . . that’s why I don’t let him leave the woods or the Dome till after dark.”
“Then I’ll come back again. Late tonight.” I thought about what Edison had said about Nik. Hiding away with his experiments. I tried to sound casual as I asked, “Why does Grimm leave the Dome?”
“I told you, to collect soil samples and vegetation.” Nik gently tucked a seedling into the jar. His fingers barely fit inside the narrow mouth and he struggled with it. “I only work with plants now.”
“Here, let me do that.” I took the jar from him. Despite my extra fingers, my small hands were a much better fit. I packed dirt down around the roots. “What I meant was, why do you collect plants?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m . . . I’m trying to create crops that can withstand the conditions of Gabriel’s desert.”
“Like sandstorms and drought?”
“That too. But there’s also five hundred years worth of humanity decaying under that sand . . . leaking oil and battery acid and who knows what into that soil. It’s not really even soil. Half of it is shattered solar glass from the old city.”
Nik made a note on the side of the jar and went on to the next plant. He measured out a precise mix of dirt and sand into the jar and then handed it to me to add the plant.
I thought of the Indignos’ crops dying off. “So you’re trying to create plants strong enough to live in polluted soil?”
“Yeah. I tried that for a while, but they kept dying. The last few months I’ve been trying to create plants that will clean the soil itself. Actually, I’m not even trying to alter the plants anymore.”
“Then what are all these?” I spun around the room, gesturing to the plethora of green. Grimm squawked at my sudden movement and flapped off to a safer perch.
“They’re test subjects. I’m trying to create a system of nanites who’ll live inside the plants and help filter out anything harmful . . . poisons or mold or anything that attacks it.”
“Like the flys inside the Dome?”
“Kind of . . . but for defense. And microscopic.”
“Is it working?”
“I don’t know.” Nik’s face was bleak as he looked at the glass jars full of sprouts. “I test them in these mini biomes, and if they look promising, I take them outside.”
“Into the woods?”
“Not quite. Here . . . let me show you.” And he took my hand. His was enormous and rough, with calluses on every finger. I liked the feel of it. It was the kind of hand that made you feel confident.
We walked a few meters through the wall of trees, then the forest opened up into a spectacular garden. But garden wasn’t even the right word for it. It was a riot of plants. Thick vines dripping with berries. Vast towers of tomatoes. Forests of orange trees and lemons and limes. Rows of pungent but unrecognizable herbs. And suspended above us, a constellation of mechanical arms reaching down to pick, prune, and weed the magnificent feast.
I was speechless.
“All of the Garden used to look like this. At least, that’s what I understand from the few historical records we have access to.”
“Then why haven’t I seen that thing anywhere else in the woods?” I pointed to the giant metal grid hanging about seven meters above us. Thousands of robotic arms slid and maneuvered along the rails in an intricate, mechanical dance.
“The computer’s only concerned about generating enough fresh food for the current population. As soon as it deemed the rest of the Gardens unnecessary, the grid and arms would’ve been dismantled and reprocessed by the flys. Then the trees must’ve taken over.”
It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. A waterfall roared nearby and the mist drifted across us making the air cool and wet. I filled my lungs with the scent of flowers and fruit and plenty. I could understand why Nik stayed here.
“Is this all part of your experiments?”
“Oh no, most of this is tended by the computer. I had to make some space for myself over here where I replicated the soil contamination levels found out Tierra Muerta.” And he showed me an irregularly shaped clearing where corn, adzuki beans, and kabocha pumpkins grew in rows. The Citizen’s main crops.
Some of the plants were enormous, swollen past the point of believability. Others were dead and dying. And still others looked perfectly normal. “For a while I had to battle it out with the flys . . . trying to get them to leave my plants alone. I finally had to suppress the electromagnetic field in this whole area, like an invisible fence.”
I was amazed and a little confused at how much work Nik had put into this. “But if the Curadores can’t even leave the Dome without isolation suits, and the Dome is breaking down, I don’t understand how crops out in Tierra Muerta are going to help you.”
“About five or six years ago, Edison and I realized we couldn’t repair the Dome’s systems like Jenner had hoped. Even if we somehow figured out the computer’s architecture, we still wouldn’t have access to modify it. When we told Jenner, he went quiet. I’d seen him angry before, but never like this.” And Nik seemed to cringe away from the words even as he said them. His huge body drawing in on itself. “He said he couldn’t believe that he’d made such weak, stupid creatures. That in surrendering so readily to failure, we’d also surrendered our reason to exist. You can’t imagine what it was like.”
But of course, I could imagine. I squeezed Nik’s hand, wishing I could communicate my shared pain. Jenner was Nik and Edison’s “God.” He’d created them only to deem them Indigno. Only Jenner hadn’t needed to exile Nik; he’d done it to himself.
“After that, we were desperate to prove ourselves. So we stopped looking for ways to fix the system and started looking for ways to escape it. And that’s where we disagreed. Edison wants to create a Curador that can live beyond the walls of the Dome. But from what I’ve seen, I’m not really sure the Curadores deserve to leave this place.”
“Then how do you intend on saving your people?”
“I don’t. I’m not really convinced it can even be done . . . at least not in Edison’s ‘nursery.’ We’ve been isolated from the world for too long. But . . . if I can find a way for your people to be self-sufficient before this whole Dome falls apart, then at least someone on Gabriel will survive.”
As Nik talked, the scraps and bits and pieces I’d learned about him came into focus. He was like the Indignos—dreaming a beautiful dream. Saving what he could. Trying to bring a desert back to life.
For the first time since I’d got here, I really let myself think about my sister, who was still out in that desert, a
nd the home I’d almost had. If the Indignos were lucky, the corn in the fields would be harvested by now. The tree cuttings they planted would have rooted and sprouted leaves and probably lost them again.
What would Lotus make of my long absence? Would she think I was lost to the Dome? Would she think I was sick? Or dead like Tasch? And my chest ached thinking of her. It had been different when I’d been an exile. I’d had no hope—no real expectation to see my sisters again—and I’d managed to lock that part of myself away.
But now Lotus was waiting for me. The Indignos were counting on me to stop whatever was going on here. And all I had to show for my time were questions and forgotten months. More than anything, I just missed Lotus. “I wish my sister could see this.”
“Maybe she will someday. Maybe all of Gabriel will look like this,” he said.
I stood next to him looking at all the green around us, looking at the vision of it playing across Nik’s passionate face. A cascade of yellow glittering in his eyes. Nik had already created such extraordinary things . . . maybe he could do this too. Maybe Gabriel could be the home I’d dreamed of. And a tiny hope sparked in my heart.
Nik’s voice was low when he spoke again, like he was afraid to break the spell. “I wish I’d been born a Citizen . . . I wish I’d met you at one of your Festivals.”
“If you were a Citizen, you’d hate me. You’d hate my Corruption.” And the idea of that hurt me.
“No. I don’t think I would.” Nik took my wrong-fingered hand in his and faced me. “I wish I’d seen you fight in that ring and gotten up the courage to talk to you afterward.”
“I never fought at the Festivals. They wouldn’t allow—”
But Nik didn’t let me finish. “More than anything, I wish you didn’t belong to Edison.”
“I don’t belong to Edison.” The truth of my words rang through me. I was not Edison’s Kisaeng. Or the Abuelos’ Corruption. Or the Indignos’ spy. I was only Leica.
A crease cut across his forehead like it was splitting him apart. And I thought of last night, the feeling of his hand on my body. It had shaken me, not just because of the unexpected intimacy of the moment, but because of the pure spontaneity of the gesture. The unthinking kindness of it.
Echoing his gesture, I reached up, smoothing his forehead. Resting my hand against his cheek. Nik was shaking under my touch, the feel of him tremoring through me.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” And I kissed Nik—not because there was some kind of secret sameness about us. In fact, I wasn’t sure I really understood who Nik was yet. But I wanted to understand him.
And the kiss was not a dizzying, devouring fire.
It was the morning sunlight stroking my body. It was roasting agave and cinnamon. It was solid ground under my feet.
But when I opened my eyes again, it all disappeared. Because there she was. Watching from the trees.
Marisol.
CHAPTER 26
MARISOL HELD MY EYES, letting the smile spread across her face. Only then did she turn and run.
I didn’t think, I just went after her. Racing through the trees. Branches tearing at my dress.
Nik shouted something, but I couldn’t hear what it was. God knows what I’d do when I caught Marisol. All I knew was I needed to stop her. I needed to know why she’d followed me. What she’d heard. And what she was planning on doing about it.
She’d gotten a good head start. But I was stronger. And more appropriately dressed. I gained ground as her sculpted red hair tangled in the low-hanging branches and her heels sank into the soft leaves. Halfway to the Promenade, I managed to catch up, bringing my foot down on the train of her dress—sending her sprawling.
“Whhhhy are you—” I dropped to my knees next to her, gasping, clutching a cramp in my side. “Why are you following me?”
I was ready for Marisol to bully and mock me. I was ready for her to threaten to tell Edison about Nik. I was not ready for what she said.
“You should let the Dome keep its secrets, Leica. You won’t like what you find.” Marisol wasn’t smiling anymore.
“What do you mean?” I was still catching my breath. Trying to understand what was happening.
Marisol leapt to her feet, quicker than I’d imagined possible. “I kept my eyes open when I first came here too. Looking for opportunities, ways to get the upper hand. And I learned the hard way that it’s better to keep your eyes closed when it comes to the Dome. And to Edison.”
I got to my feet to face her. Marisol’s retribution for this morning had come swifter than I’d anticipated and I wondered exactly how far she was willing to go to stay alpha dog. “Come on, you know me better than that. Ominous warnings aren’t going to scare me off.”
The color drained from her face and she spit the words at me. “You might amuse him.You might be intriguing enough to keep his bed warm. But nothing more. Nothing real.”
“And I suppose Edison loves you?” We were circling each other—like at the beginning of a fight—our words jabbing, testing the air between us.
“You think this is about love?” She laughed, a kind of high-pitched shriek. “You think he believes you’re special? How could he? You’re nothing but a Citizen.” Marisol smiled, but it was full of poison. “A Corruption!”
“Is this your strategy to win back the Sanctum? Ugly words?” Then I saw something in her face, pain tucked behind her hatred. Clearly, this wasn’t all about power. This wasn’t even all about me.
Marisol was still looking at me, but I got the sense that she was talking to herself now. “Deep down, you already know something isn’t right. Have you noticed none of the Kisaengs are pregnant? Doesn’t that seem strange to you? Considering our role here?”
“What are you saying?” My voice was hard, as if its edge could protect me against whatever weapons Marisol had in her arsenal.
“Come on. You’re a smart girl. You know what I’m saying. I know you’ve already found the scar . . . we all find it. It just takes a while for us to admit what it means.”
All her posing and bravado dropped away, and the forest’s shadows turned her face gaunt. This was not the same Marisol I’d grown up with. This Marisol still had a bold glint in her eyes, but it was only a trick of the light. Beneath it, her hazel eyes were dead. The Curadores had cut out her core.
“No.” But my hand drifted to my stomach. Covering the scar.
The worst part is that Marisol was right. I had known. I’d seen it in Marisol’s eyes that morning as she’d watched the children—children she would never have.
I’d never really thought about kids one way or another—never imagined I’d find anyone in Pleiades willing to risk my Corruption. I mean, who wants children cursed by God? But still . . . it had always been there. This future piece of me still unknown and unrealized.
“Is it permanent?” My voice was a whisper.
Marisol didn’t answer. Brushing a dead leaves off her dress, she turned and headed back toward the Promenade. After a few steps, she called back to me, “Why don’t you go ask Edison?”
• • •
But I didn’t ask Edison about the scar. I didn’t ask him anything. He was quiet during dinner in the Pavillion and I was too. Being careful. I didn’t know if Marisol had told him about this kiss. I wasn’t even completely sure of her motives anymore. As I watched him chew his curry in silence—his face stony—I realized I was scared.
The feeling caught me off guard. I’d been cautious of Edison before, but I’d never truly believed we were on different sides. But the secrets were piling up between us. Edison had watched me for years through Grimm’s eyes, and the longer he went without telling me, the more disturbing that idea became. Now there was the scar. Marisol was right, you couldn’t live in the Dome long without noticing that none of the Kisaengs were pregnant. Edison must at least be aware of whatever they’d done to me. And the
n there was Nik . . . and the kiss.
Was I truly capable of playing the Kisaeng with Edison any longer?
Marisol’s words came back to me: You’d better figure out what you want and who’s going to get that for you.
Well, the idea that the Curadores were willing to sterilize Kisaengs because we were unfit made the idea of them infecting Citizens quite convincing. The sooner I discovered what’d happened to Tasch, the sooner I could keep it from happening to anyone else. And for that, I still needed Edison. For now, at least.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin for the hundredth time, feeling like he must be able to see Nik’s kiss there.
My movement caught Edison’s eye and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry! I’m terrible company tonight. I was just thinking about the damn radio. I’ve been triple-checking everything, all afternoon . . . everything seems clean and undamaged and in the right place. But all I get is static! It’s like we’re missing a piece. Like someone doesn’t want us to succeed. So I was thinking that tonight we should—”
But I cut him off, remembering my late-night appointment with Grimm. “Actually, I think I should go to bed early. I’m exhausted.”
“I bet!” Edison said. “Sounds like you had a full day.”
I squeezed my balled-up napkin. Does he know about my trip into Nik’s woods? About the kiss?
But Edison smiled indulgently. “I heard you and the Kisaengs were fighting again.”
“Sparring,” I corrected, and I ordered myself to relax.
“Well, whatever you call it, you and the girls are causing quite the stir among the Curadores.” His amused tone made me bristle. He misread my irritation for tiredness and, pushing away his bowl, he said, “Let me walk you home.”
I allowed him to take my arm as we set off across the grassy Promenade. I racked my brain for something to say. “Did you find out anything about the Mothers?”
“Huh?” Clearly Edison was still lost in thoughts of the radio.
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