Lotus and Thorn

by Sara Wilson Etienne

  “You and I are visionaries. This plan you hatched . . . all those secret meetings, sneaking out of the Dome, bringing in Ada even! It’s truly incredible.”

  “If you knew . . . if you know . . . then—”

  “Because a little chaos was exactly what I needed. So thank you. And remember through everything that happens tonight . . . I love you.” The current of excitement in his voice scared me and one thought repeated itself, screaming in my head.

  Lotus. He has Lotus.

  “If you’ve hurt Lotus, I’ll—”

  Somewhere close by, an explosion shook the ground and I stumbled.

  “It begins,” Edison said. My ribs ached as he squeezed the last of the air out of my corseted lungs and smashed his mouth against mine.

  Then he was gone and I collapsed on the ground, wheezing. June materialized by my side, helping me to stand up.

  “There shouldn’t be any bombs yet. It’s too soon,” she said. “And Sarika’s fireworks—”

  And I managed to force the words out. “Edison knows.”

  Her eyes went wide. “How?”

  “Marisol. And Lotus . . . he’s got Lotus.”

  “Oh, Leica, I’m sorry,” June said. “We’ll figure out what’s happened and we’ll get her back. I promise.”

  There was another little quake and June steadied me. I looked around the Sanctum; the Curadores were starting to look a little nervous, but the Kisaengs were laughing and teasing and chattering . . . valiantly distracting the Curadores. June said, “I don’t think those explosions are coming from the tunnels. The Indignos couldn’t have evacuated the wards already, could they?”

  “No. There hasn’t been enough time. Maybe the magfly lines? But the Mothers aren’t supposed to set anything off until after we’d drugged the Curadores and trapped them in here. I think the only thing it’s safe to assume is that we need a new plan.” It was like a nightmare.

  Then the world exploded around me. Glass sprayed through the air, glistening in the colored party lights. The ground rocked beneath my feet. I was down again and time went wrong.

  People were screaming, but I couldn’t hear anything. June was thrown up into the air away from me. Oksun’s face came into focus in the crowd, a trickle of blood streaking her cheek. She was yelling something at me, but I couldn’t make sense of it.

  I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. Tasch and Lotus needed me. I shook my head, and when I opened my eyes, time caught up with itself and sound came roaring back.

  “Where’s Edison?” Oksun screamed. Her usually subdued hair was singed and wild around her face.

  “Gone. And he knows everything. And he’s got Lotus.”

  “Bad start.” She reached down and pulled me to my feet—wiping blood from the small cut on her face.

  “Not great.” I checked my dress. Knives. Tools. Bombs. All safe. Then I realized what was missing. “Where’s June?”

  I scanned the crowd, but the place was a madhouse. Half the people still had their masks on and the emaciated skulls grinned in the flickering party lights. The bombs had collapsed the doorway of the Sanctum and there was glass everywhere. No one could get out, so they settled for panicking. Oksun and I focused on not getting run over.

  Suddenly, June descended on us—her board easing down from above. “I got high enough to see over the walls of the Sanctum. Looks like someone beat us to the punch, and I’m guessing they used our own flower garlands to do it too. The whole outer arm of the spiral is blown, blocking the main exit as well. There’s definitely injuries, but since the bombs were planted high enough, no one’s been killed . . . as far as I can tell. Bad news is that there’s also smoke coming from the magfly lines. And near the Genetics Lab.”

  “That’s the bad news?” And Oksun let out a hysterical laugh that sounded all wrong coming from her.

  How had everything gone so terribly wrong? “We’ve got to get out of here and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

  There was the hiss of static and I looked around for the source.

  “I believe it’s coming from your cleavage.” June smirked, the edge of hysteria playing with her as well. I ripped a handful of flowers off my bodice and pulled out the radio.

  “I thought you were going to signal me before you blew the Sanctum!” Ada sounded furious.

  “It wasn’t us! None of it was us. Edison knows everything . . . Lotus was caught heading back last night.” I had to yell to be heard over all the shouting Kisaengs and Curadores. “He must’ve found a way to trigger the bombs.”

  “Do you need me to send help?” Ada asked.

  I glanced at Oksun, who’d pulled herself together by now and shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. But we’ve got to get back in control of the situation.” I rubbed my ears—everything still sounded muffled from the blast. “I want flys everywhere. I know Edison’s behind this but I don’t know why. I mean, if he knew we were planning this, then why not just stop us? Why blow up the Dome?”

  “Tell me exactly what you need from me,” Ada said.

  “We need to know if he’s sabotaged the evacuation and Pleiades as well. And we need to know if he’s coming after us with more than just our own weapons. Whatever he’s up to we need to get ahead of him, so obviously, the sooner you can get control of the Dome’s systems, the better.”

  “Okay,” Ada said. “I’ll send some flys into the tunnels . . . get an idea of where things stand. And I’ll have the Mothers keep a close eye out for Edison.”

  “And Marisol. Even if they’re not together, she might know where he is,” I said.

  “And Marisol,” she confirmed. “Heads up—according to my monitors, it looks like you’ve already got some action . . . Curadores on their way to the Sanctum. Should I hold the rest of the detonations?”

  I hesitated—looking to Oksun again—and she grabbed the radio. “Blow whatever’s left of the magfly lines to slow everyone down. Then we’re gonna need new targets, far from the Promenade. Pick a few of them—scattered, but in the general vicinity of each other—and detonate them all within five minutes. We need to draw as many Curadores away from the Genetics Lab as possible so you have an open route to the main computer when you’re ready. The Kisaengs will focus on getting out of here and regrouping.”

  “Right,” said Ada. “Just so you know, Leica, your tracker is still working. I can’t isolate the signal and I can’t block it. And while I was looking, I noticed something else strange. That coded radio signal? The one from Earth?”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s changed.”

  CHAPTER 42

  “THE SIGNAL’S CHANGED? How?” In the midst of this mess, I tried to focus on what Ada was telling me. Tried to understand its significance.

  “Well, I still can’t decipher what’s on it. But it’s not constant anymore, more like bursts of static. And there’s another coded signal now too, coming from somewhere on Gabriel. As if—”

  “As if someone’s having a conversation.” I finished her thought. Whatever that meant, it was not good. “Okay. Keep listening in and let me know if anything changes. Oh, and Ada?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you shut off the water to the Sanctum? It’d be nice to get out of here.”

  I was no longer having to shout to be heard over the chaos. And when I turned around, I was amazed. Riya and our Kisaengs had the Curadores and Marisol’s sisters lined up against the wall at knifepoint. Riya looked to me for instructions, her cropped, dark hair spiked with sweat. Her small mouth was drawn in a grim line, but there was something ecstatically defiant about her as well. Suji would’ve said Riya had been gripped by the euphoria. And it suited her well.

  There were about a hundred and fifty Curadores in all. Some were slumped and moaning, having already indulged in the drugged wine. Others looking around, bewildered, as if th
eir favorite toy had just bit them. A few even wore stupid, amused grins, convinced this was all part of tonight’s entertainment.

  “Impressive,” I said to Riya. She gave me a curt nod—and in spite of her elaborate silk gown, there was nothing fluttery about her now.

  “Everyone take off your masks,” I ordered. I scanned the faces of both friend and foe. I knew Edison and Marisol wouldn’t be among them, but I had to check anyway.

  “As you can tell, things have not gone as we planned. I won’t pretend that this night hasn’t just gotten a hell of a lot more dangerous for us.” I looked at my Kisaengs. Soot and makeup and blood smudged their faces. The glass had been brutal. And while no one had been killed, most were adorned with makeshift bandages, torn from skirts and capes. They were not the frivolous, flirty girls I’d met only a few weeks ago—though in truth, they’d probably never really been those girls.

  But Edison’s attack had galvanized them. They were fighters now.

  “We’ve lost the element of surprise, but our goals are the same. Evacuate the Citizens in the underground wards. Take control of the Genetics Lab and the main computer. Get the Dome open to Pleiades. But first we need to get out of here. Lucky for you, I know the way.” I pointed to the Sanctum’s waterfall and gave them a cocky grin.

  Being friends with Suji had taught me that you might not always know what you’re doing, but you sure as hell better look like you do.

  • • •

  We surfaced near a pump house at the edge of the Reservoir. Thick smoke hung over the Promenade and the air tasted like ash. Fireworks continued to explode outside the Dome, lighting up the street in reds and yellows—a blitz of confusion. Damp Kisaengs stood clustered on the grass as we watched the Sanctum’s glass walls flash bright, then go dark, as June caved in the waterway behind us. Then we were moving again. Putting distance between ourselves and the Sanctum.

  And I was glad, because moving meant being one step closer to finding out what happened to Lotus. To rescuing Tasch. And more than anything, getting moving meant finding Edison and making him pay. Plus, there were still a couple hundred Curadores loose in the Dome, and from the look of it, they were all on their way to the Promenade.

  “Okay, masks back on.” Oksun barked the order and I was happy for her to take charge. Like Riya had said, Oksun was impeccable with the details.

  June had barely caught up with us before Oksun sent her off again. “Take a team of five. We don’t know what Edison’s agenda is or if he has explosives of his own. But if any of us want breakfast and clean water tomorrow morning, or ever again for that matter, then we’d better make sure the Meat Brewery and the water pumps aren’t rigged to blow. Now get—”

  But fresh explosions interrupted Oksun’s instructions. We could see flashes on the far side of the Dome and we held our breath, watching to see if our trick would work. Then Kisaengs were smiling—a couple even cheered—as the Curadores who’d been converging on the Promenade took the bait, heading off in the direction of Ada’s new detonations at a run.

  “Okay, now that our path’s clear, everyone else break into twos or threes and start moving toward Leica’s house. You’ll get your new orders there. Edison’s still tracking Leica, so until we can fix that, we’ll minimize that advantage by meeting somewhere obvious. Have your knives at the ready, but choose evasion over attack. The longer we can keep the Curadores guessing, the better. If you get caught, shout and someone will try to come for you. But from this point forward, assume you’re on your own.”

  The Kisaengs took off, scattering into the night, and Oksun turned to me. “Leica, please tell me you have a theory about what Edison’s up to.”

  “Well, there’s definitely more going on tonight than our rebellion,” I said. “Back there in the Sanctum, Edison thanked me. Said a little chaos was what he needed. So whatever he has planned is bigger than our little war.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Me either. Whatever he’s doing, I swear, I’ll stop him. But we need you to keep our people safe. Take my radio—find out if the Indignos have managed to rescue the Citizens. Find out what’s going on outside the Dome. Get Ada to the main computer.”

  “I don’t need—”

  I pressed the radio into Oksun’s hand. “I’ll get another when I get back to the house. Right now, they need you.”

  I saw on her face that she wanted to stop me. But instead, Oksun gripped my hand. “Wherever you’re going, be careful.”

  “If you can’t be safe, be smart.” And I ripped a dagger from a hidden pocket in my bodice. Oksun gave me a grim smile before slipping on her mask and disappearing into the dark.

  I left my mask tethered to my waist. I was worried more about visibility than being visible. Running low, I headed back into the center of things. Jenner hadn’t been in the Sanctum and I needed to talk to him. Whatever was happening here tonight had more to do with Edison’s plans than with mine. Edison clearly had many secrets, but I didn’t believe Jenner was so blind he hadn’t guessed most of them.

  But by the time I got to the Genetics Lab, I was too late. Blood streaked the door—red fingerprints smearing the glass. I followed the trail with my eyes and spotted Jenner staggering across the Promenade. Breathing hard. Stringy white hair falling in his eyes.

  When I reached him, Jenner slumped onto me—the weight of him almost taking me down. His hand pressed against his flabby belly and his white lab coat was soaked with blood. “Forgive me . . . I tried to stop him.”

  Jenner’s eyelids drooped as I lowered him onto the grass. I shook him, not bothering to be gentle. “You tried to stop Edison? From what?”

  Jenner nodded, then grimaced—even that tiny movement hurting him.

  Of course. This stupid, horrible man couldn’t even die right. Couldn’t even hang on long enough to be useful. “What’s he planning?”

  “He’s been talking to them . . . on the radio.” His fat lips were wet—blood frothing at the corners—and he started choking.

  “Breathe,” I said in my best Taschen voice, trying to soothe him. I needed more information from him. “Just breathe.”

  His coughing eased, but his eyes drifted shut again and I shook him by the shoulders. “Tell me about the radio.”

  Jenner’s eyes rolled until they found mine. “. . . thinks he’s talking to Earth.”

  “If it’s not Earth, who is Edison talking to?” My voice was high-pitched with frustration. “What do they want?”

  “They destroyed . . .” His voice dwindled to an inaudible hiss. Then he whispered, “Forgive me.”

  But I couldn’t bring myself to lessen Jenner’s guilt, even in death. His eyes lost focus and he was gone. I wasn’t sorry. This man had sliced me open and taken not only who I was, but who I could have been. In the name of survival he’d made unthinkable choices and they’d brought him here. Murdered by his son, left to bleed to death in the dark. It wasn’t the computer or some mutated gene that’d brought Edison and Nik to opposite edges of the brink. Jenner had done that. This Dome had done that.

  Wiping my bloody hands on my dress, I took off across the grass, cursing the fact I’d given Oksun my radio. If I cut around the Reservoir, I could make it to my house faster than the Complex. I needed to talk to Ada. I needed to know more about these signals she was monitoring.

  I ran along the dark path, my hoopskirt banging against my shins and snagging on branches, trying to make sense of it all. I had the pieces, I just wasn’t seeing the picture yet. Edison had gotten the shuttle’s radio to work—or maybe it’d worked all along—and now he was talking to Earth.

  Or at least what he thought was Earth.

  But why? What did he hope to accomplish? As new explosions rang out in the night, it was clear he wasn’t coordinating some kind of rescue mission for Gabriel.

  I broke through the trees on the other side of the Rese
rvoir, zigzagging my way through the neighborhood. Curadores were everywhere—examining what was left of the magfly lines, heading toward the explosions, huddling in small groups talking. I dodged in and out of houses, cutting through backyards to avoid them. At least none of them seemed menacing so far, just confused.

  Then a terrible wailing pierced the night.

  “Dammit.” I froze, clutching a cramp in my side as I listened, trying to figure out what to do. I was only a few blocks from my house, only minutes from a radio and talking to Ada.

  More screams. I changed directions—running toward the desperate noise.

  I turned a corner and ran straight into a mob of crazed Citizens. They were armed with knives and fighting sticks, and when they saw me, a greedy rage swept onto their faces.

  “This place shall be cleansed!” a man shouted, holding up a Kisaeng’s mask smeared with blood. His patched clothes and gaunt face looked out of place in the streets of the Dome.

  Another man grabbed at me and I struck out with my knife. More arms seized me from behind, and voices screamed in my ear. “This place shall be cleansed!”

  Then there was a crack-crack-crack of wood against wood, and a command cut through the shouting.

  “Stop!” And there was Sarika, pushing the crowd aside. Relief washed over me as they reluctantly let me go.

  “Has everyone gone mad? How did you even get in?” My words were whispered, meant only for her.

  But Sarika’s answer carried across the whole crowd. “God opened the tunnel for us.”

  “God?”

  “We prayed for the gates to open and they did.” Sarika played to the crowd, as if she was in the middle of a Remembering.