Lotus and Thorn

by Sara Wilson Etienne

  I tried to peek inside the windows as we passed the other buildings, but I only saw my and Riya’s reflections in the dark glass. Were there children sleeping inside? Classrooms?

  We knocked at the door to the third building and it was answered by a pregnant woman in a cream dress. Despite the late hour, a few children were playing a dice game on the floor behind her and a little girl glanced up at me as I came in. She had no hair, like Aaliyah. Another boy stared at me with serious, mismatched eyes—one bright blue, one green. If Curadores didn’t want Kisaengs to pollute the DNA, then why these Corruptions?

  Then a cold, treacherous idea crept into my heart. When I’d learned about my scar, about what the unfertilized ova were used for, I’d taken comfort in one thought alone. That they wouldn’t be turned into more Leicas. That my DNA wouldn’t be used for some terrible purpose.

  But how did I know that for certain? After all, hadn’t Edison told me that Gabriel had made me better? More evolved?

  “Come with me,” the woman said. Feeling sick, I watched the children for another second before I forced myself to turn away—the rattle of dice following me down the dim flight of stairs into a brightly lit basement. First, let’s just make sure they all live through this. Let’s make sure we all do.

  “Who’s that?” Ada looked up from a panel of blinking lights and pointed at Riya. It was the first time Ada and I had actually met, and she was even more intimidating up close. “I was only expecting one of you.”

  “We come in pairs.” Riya’s voice was hard. The training had done more than teach her moves.

  “You can trust Riya,” I added.

  “I don’t even trust you, why would I trust her?”

  “Because you don’t have a choice,” I said. “We’re already here.”

  Ada looked at us both. Then she shook her head—as if it was against her better judgment—and said, “Suit yourself.”

  “I will. Thanks.” And I gave her my most dazzling smile.

  Riya gazed around the room. “What is all this?”

  It looked a bit like the main computer room in the Genetics Lab. Except there were no flys here and everything was cobbled together with bare wires. Ancient monitors covered the walls, showing fuzzy snapshots of the Dome: The gate outside the Complex. The Promenade. The Villages.

  “This is where we keep track of what happens in the Dome,” Ada said.

  “Why?” I asked. There were about ten other Mothers down in the basement, cream dresses swishing efficiently as they checked monitors or dismantled old computers or soldered circuit boards.

  “Because it’s keeping track of us,” Ada said matter-of-factly. “The women of Ad Astra are practically prisoners of the Dome. We serve only one purpose, to carry and bear children. For centuries, we’ve had no choice in the matter. The Curadores have always made sure there were enough of us to sustain the population, but not enough to fight back.”

  It sounded eerily familiar to the Indigno theories about controlling the Citizen populations.

  “But things have changed.” Ada gestured at the screens around us. “The Dome is breaking down. There are gaps and holes in the system now and we plan to take advantage of them. To take control of them . . . first the flys, then the reprocessors, then the whole damn computer.”

  I was confused. “But Nik said that no one could fix the computer because no one knew how to reprogram it.”

  “True. Even if we seize control from the Curadores, the Dome will still be doomed. That’s the only reason we’re talking to you.”

  “And the Curadores have no clue?” Blue computer light reflected in Riya’s eyes as she gazed around the room.

  “Well, thanks to Leica here, they know some of what we’re up to. She so kindly told her boyfriend that I was doing a little browsing down in the Salvage Hall.”

  My face burned. “I had no idea—”

  “Yes, yes, so Nik said. Luckily, we have decoy stashes set up. They found a few things, but nothing important.”

  “It’s hard to believe that no one besides me has noticed,” I said.

  “You have to understand,” Ada said. “The Curadores are conditioned to ignore us as much as possible. In their minds, Mothers are merely incubators. Why else do you think they have Kisaengs? If they really looked at us . . . if they remembered we were women with thoughts and desires and ambitions . . . they’d risk remembering they’re holding their own people hostage. And until we’re ready, we’re more than happy being ignored.”

  “Let them underestimate you.” I repeated one of my core training lessons. Despite all our differences, Ada and I were the same kind of fighter. “These gaps and holes you mentioned . . . I’m hoping you can help me take advantage of them.”

  “Of course you are. But first, I want something from you.” Ada flipped a switch and there was a squealing noise punctuated by scraps of distorted radio transmissions. It poured through every speaker, filling the room, until I covered my ears. I’d never heard the sound before, but it was exactly how Edison had described the scrambled transmission from Earth.

  She shut it off and looked at me. “Well, what is it?”

  “Why are you asking me?” I watched her carefully, trying to figure out how much Ada already knew about the radio—information was one of my few assets at the moment. I sympathized with the Mothers, but I had no idea what their ultimate agenda was. If they did have the ability to commandeer the computer system, that made them hugely powerful allies. But until I knew what they intended to do with that power, I wanted to hold on to whatever leverage I had.

  “Because about four months ago, we picked up a transmission from you from out in Tierra Muerta. Your voice squawked across all the Curador frequencies, saying ‘Hello? This is Ad Astra. We’re alive!’ We’d never picked up an outside transmission before, but since then we’ve been monitoring all frequencies. So I ask you again. What is it?”

  Ada was testing me—I could hear it in her voice. I couldn’t risk the Mothers deciding not to help me, so I told the truth.

  “It’s a coded message. My crew picked it up in a shuttle we found buried beneath the sand dunes. If you had a descrambler, you’d know that it said, ‘Lotus Colony, this is Homebase. You are under temporary quarantine. Enter verification and transmit on priority frequency so emergency evacuations can be coordinated.’”

  Riya stared at me. I hadn’t told her or Oksun about the message. In the last week, I’d been too busy with happenings inside the Dome to give much thought to the outside.

  “Homebase?” Even Riya’s round mouth became pointed as she repeated the word.

  “Then it is Earth,” Ada answered. “And that is what you and Edison have been doing in that lab of yours. Trying to make contact.”

  I tried to hide my surprise. And this time, Ada couldn’t keep the smile from slipping onto her face.

  “You are keeping tabs on the Dome.” I was impressed. “Edison heard my transmission too and followed it out to Tierra Muerta.” I told them about the voice that’d answered. “I thought he was after the shuttle and radio, but as it turned out, he was more interested in me. He knew the radio was important to me and he used it to lure me here. And to keep me distracted.”

  “Thank you for not lying. Honestly, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to hitch my little rebellion up to yours. But I had to make sure I trusted you first.”

  “And do you?”

  “Enough for now.” And the smile became a wide grin that broke up her flawless face. It gave her a mischievous look that made me realize I liked her.

  “Well then,” I said, my grin matching her own. “Where should we start?”

  So Ada, Riya, and I came up with a plan for my journey the next night. It felt good to be taking action. And I could tell that it was satisfying for Ada too.

  When it was time for us to leave, Ada walked us out to the gate. T
hen she pulled me aside.

  “I’m sorry about what Edison did to you. And I’m sorry about Grimm too. Did you know I helped build him?” Ada’s face wore its haughty mask again, but her voice was softer. “I loved working on him; it was the only time in my life that I was really useful . . . that I felt challenged.”

  Then she smoothed her hair, touching up her tight bun, and her voice got its bite back. “That was my mistake . . . letting Edison see how much I loved it, how good I was at it.”

  And she wasn’t bragging or exaggerating—simply stating a fact.

  “But then, he wasn’t always the way he is now. At least, I don’t think he was. I like to think that once, when we were all kids, that he was my friend.”

  I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

  “Listen, Nik is a good man,” she said.

  My voice came out hoarse. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “But it does. Nik is my friend. He was stupid and reckless and people paid the price.”

  “My people.” My voice was a growl. “My parents. He had no right.”

  “And you? You have the right to put this Dome in jeopardy? To risk my children? They won’t survive if the Dome is breached. I won’t survive. Is that your risk to take?”

  I was stunned into silence.

  “You hadn’t thought of that had you? You were too busy thinking of how to save your sister. Jenner raised Nik and Edison as if they were soldiers of the Dome. And when Jenner realized he’d failed, that his prodigies couldn’t win the war, he passed that failure on to them. By the time he was done with them, Nik and Edison would’ve done anything to prove themselves. The difference between the two of them is that Edison still would.”

  Her words rung in my ears, but I shook my head. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose the people around you. To find out they’ve been part of some experiment gone wrong.”

  “I don’t know?” Ada’s face was incandescent. She grabbed my hand and held it against her rounded stomach. “I have no idea what I’m carrying. A clone? Some sort of engineered monster? Edison has pulled us all into his experiments. Every child born in the last year has some kind of anomaly. That is if they managed to survive. Some births have not been so lucky.” A band of anger pulled her words tight. “For Mother or child.”

  As I looked at Ada, my own fear about what was done to me—about what was done to Tasch—was split wide. Ada, Nik, Tasch, Suji, Olivia, me. Even Edison. The same blade had cut us all. “I didn’t know. I’m—”

  “I don’t want your pity.” Ada’s blue eyes glittered with defiance. “I’m only telling you this so you understand. This is personal. So we’re happy to help you make your trip out to Pleiades—that sort of thing’s right up our alley. But there’s a catch.”

  “What?”

  “Whatever you’re planning next—and don’t even pretend that you don’t have some sort of revolution in mind. Whatever you’re planning, the Mothers want in.”

  The idea of more allies was tempting, but I didn’t want to be responsible for more people risking their lives. “No . . . I can’t drag you into my mess.”

  “Sweetie,” Ada said, adding an eyelash flutter. “It was our mess first.”

  CHAPTER 38

  THE NEXT NIGHT, I dressed in dark pants and a lightweight long-sleeve shirt Riya had whipped up for me. It was going to be cold out there in the desert, but I was also going to be moving fast. I would leave by the same entrance I’d come back up through. Near the old church.

  But this time, Ada would be redirecting any flys that were headed toward my trajectory. She’d also found a route that bypassed the LOTUS wards—I’d have to go through some ventilation shafts, but there was less chance of being seen. I was grateful; I didn’t want to have to see Tasch only to leave her again.

  Ada knew an impressive amount about the underground tunnels and the Dome’s security. But as I slipped into the backyard, I was thinking about what else she’d had to say to me. Nik had done terrible things, but his purpose hadn’t been terrible. And I felt the blade of my knife slicing through the thin skin at Suji’s throat. I had killed too. And I thought of the bombs Oksun was already building. I would kill again.

  I turned away from the street and headed into the trees.

  Nik’s head jerked up when he heard me coming and he set aside the plant he was pruning. “Leica . . .”

  “Hating you will not bring my parents back.”

  He was quiet, waiting for me to continue. His eyes held a tentative hope.

  “Thank you for setting up the meeting with Ada. I’m going out to Pleiades to tell Sarika about Taschen. I’d like you to come with me. You know your way though those tunnels.”

  Nik tensed. Almost like I’d hit him. “You know I can’t.”

  “We can find you an isolation suit.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “You’ve hidden in here for long enough. You say you’re sorry for what you did to my parents, but you’re unwilling to take responsibility and make it right.”

  “Responsibility? Why else do you think I’ve shut myself away . . . so I won’t do any more harm.”

  “You didn’t mean to infect anyone. You thought you were helping.”

  “That’s exactly the point! I wanted to save your people and I murdered them. Worse than that, Edison perverted my idea, using it to infect more Citizens. If I don’t even know I’m doing the wrong thing, how do I stop myself?” Nik’s eyes shone in the lights of the garden. “Jenner never should’ve made us. We’re a twisted version of humanity and what we touch becomes twisted in the process.”

  Edison’s enraged words came back to me. “That’s exactly the word Edison used . . . ‘twisted.’ Then he said you were nothing more than a bad copy.”

  Nik frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I was born first. Jenner made sure I was born healthy, then cloned Edison from my cells. Edison knows that.”

  But it made sense to me and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. Edison hated himself. Despite his arrogance and despite his schemes, he was still nothing more than Jenner’s failed experiment. This was the truth he spent his life trying to hide from the world, and more importantly, from himself. I remembered the cold hatred in Edison’s voice when he said, He is a mistake.

  I looked at Nik now. His beautiful face full of regret. He hated himself too. But unlike Edison, Nik wore it like a coat around his shoulder. Sewed into every line in his body.

  And I found a cold rage in my heart—a malicious hatred I’d never felt for anyone before. Not even the Abuelos who’d exiled me. Jenner. His cruelty had forged every joist and girder and bolt of this terrible mess.

  “Maybe Jenner shouldn’t have made you. But he did. And yes, like all of us, you have the capacity to do great evil. But you also have the capacity for greatness. You can hide in here, planting a forest of blame and fear around yourself. Or you can come with me and believe you’ve learned from your mistakes . . . exceed your limitations.

  “Now,” I said. “Which is it going to be?”

  Nik looked stunned by my speech. He blinked and almost laughed. And his answer seemed to surprise even him. “I guess I’m coming with you.”

  We took the miles through the Reclamation Fields at a slow jog. It was as fast as we could manage with Nik in an isolation suit and me watching out for digsites. It was wonderful to see the lights of the Pleiades towers growing bigger. Nine glowing blue towers standing in a semicircle. Home.

  By the time we got to Pleiades, it was long past curfew, so the gates were guarded. We skirted the seven-foot wall until we were right behind Building Nine. Nik boosted me up and I perched on top of the concrete barrier, reaching back down for him. But he was already pulling himself over.

  When I dropped down into the Commons, I didn’t recognize where I was for a second. There should’ve only been the co
mpost shed and the quarantine shed back here. But instead we were surrounded by a cluster of six squat buildings.

  I peered in the window of one. Rows of beds lined the walls and each of them was filled. Rashes. Bloody eyes. Weeping open wounds as the body broke down.

  I peeked in another shed. More beds. More people.

  And another. They were all quarantine sheds.

  “This is Edison’s work,” I said. Before, I’d been worried about what Sarika would say when she saw us. But now I knew I’d convince her to help us. I had to.

  Nik slipped his gloved hand into mine and together we climbed the five flights of stairs, knocking quietly at my family’s door.

  Sarika opened it, and—despite my revelation about her—homesickness rushed at me. She took one look at me and Nik in his suit, and pulled us inside without a word.

  “Who did that to you?” Sarika was looking at my face, anger tight in her voice.

  My hands went to my cheek—my bruises had almost faded, but Sarika’s eagle eyes had spotted them anyway.

  “I’m taking care of it,” I told her. She nodded, her long braid pulling her face into an unapologetic ferocity.

  Once we’d gotten that out of the way, she moved on to Nik. “What are you thinking? Bringing a Curador here?”

  “Sarika, this is Nik. He’s going to help us.”

  She glanced at my fingers, involuntarily, as if I had brought their curse down on us all. And when she spoke, there was a trembling vibrato to her voice, like she used when she spoke at the Rememberings. “What is so terrible that we need help from a Curador?”

  “Sarika.” I took her hand in mine. “Taschen is alive.”

  • • •

  We sat at my family’s scrubbed wooden table, and over mugs of strong tea, I told Sarika about the Dome and the LOTUS wards. But it was hard, being in this place that was mine, but not mine. Everything was still in its proper place. The kettle, sitting on its worn pot holder. Dad’s fighting sticks crisscrossed on their shelf. Boots lined up by the door. But it didn’t smell like home. It was all Sarika now—stringent alcohol and burnt agave.