Zack’s measured tone dimmed my excitement. “But if she does . . . Grace, this is the one thing we all agreed we could never do. Not until we find a way to prevent people from feeling that guilt and dying, by removing the bugs from the brains of every single person on the planet. And that could take years . . .”
I shook my head, not sure if I was brilliant or crazy or both. “Not if Esther helps us. If we record a video telling everyone the truth and set it to be released in some way she can’t counteract, we leave her with no choice. She has to help us. She has to end this. We win.”
Zack’s tone was careful. “I know she’s your mother . . .”
I cut him off. “My mother’s a monster. Believe me, I know that by now. I’ve given up on convincing her to join our side. But we’re going to destroy her life’s work, one way or the other. And she won’t let that finale be the deaths of millions more people, I know that much.”
“You don’t know what she’s capable of,” Zack warned, voice shaking. “Not really.”
I thought of the terror inspired in those CIA agents by just the mention of Esther’s name, and I wondered if he was right. But I shook my head. “It’s our only chance.”
“A risky gambit that might kill half the world’s population? You don’t get to make that choice, for all those people.”
I held firm. “Someone has to.”
Zack shook his head. “You’re starting to sound like her.” He meant Esther. Knowing he was right made me queasy.
“It’s going to work,” I said stubbornly.
Zack hesitated. “I can’t condone this. But it’s not up to me either.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” I suggested. “Everyone left in the resistance.”
He nodded—not because he wanted to, but because we both knew we had no choice. A handful of us were about to decide the fate of billions of people.
15
We reassembled at the hospital, where Dr. Marko was thankfully awake, but woozy. As a precaution after their brief stint in captivity, Jude and Dawn had been examined, treated, and released, and they joined the cluster around Dr. Marko’s bed. This time our group included every single person who knew the truth; Zack had even gathered all the refugees from our Turkish stronghold.
Trying not to be intimidated by the larger crowd, I re-explained my plan and reminded everyone that everything we said and did was being projected back to Esther. As expected, I was met with familiar blank stares, and echoes of all Zack’s objections.
“We cannot do this,” said a woman I recognized from our transatlantic flight.
“She thinks she can save the world,” another stranger grumbled.
“Don’t get in the way of Grace and saving the world,” Zack quipped.
“It’s not that it isn’t a good idea,” Jude said, coming to my defense. “But it feels risky. Too risky.” He looked at me with an apology, sorry he couldn’t fully back me.
“That’s just it,” Irene stepped in. “We know we won’t die, because we know the truth. We’re making the decision to risk strangers’ lives, and that isn’t our call.”
Dawn, too, shifted uncomfortably. “For all we know, your mother’s tech isn’t just reading your thoughts, it’s infecting them again. Convincing you to play right into her hands.”
Dr. Marko shook his head. “We saw the blueprints on her computer, that’s not how it works.”
“Unless that’s what Esther wanted us to see . . .” Zack said, his old paranoia rising to the surface.
Layla had stayed uncharacteristically quiet as the others leveled their objections. Finally, she spoke up, interrupting. “I think we should do it.”
Jude was just as surprised as the rest of us. “You do? Why?”
“They’re picking us off one by one,” Layla said quietly, and I knew she was thinking of her father. “We are acting like we have some chance of beating them, but we all know they have us backed into a corner. An invasion could come at any minute, and then we are all dead. Yes, Grace’s plan is a desperate last resort, you’re right, but we are desperate. We lost my father, we almost lost Dawn and Dr. Marko, I almost lost you . . .” she said to Jude, and I could hear her voice cracking as she spoke. “Grace, you and I have never seen eye to eye. I always thought you were naïve, and privileged. And kind of annoying, if I’m honest.”
“Thanks,” I said, hoping there was a “but” coming.
There was. “But this time I think you are right. I think this is the only way we win.”
I looked around the room for support, and I saw Dawn smiling ruefully. “After all the grief you gave me about West Virginia . . .”
I thought of how angry I’d been that she’d put innocent lives at risk and lost them. How naïve I’d been then, like Layla had said. I tried to imagine what me then would have said about me now. I would have thought I was maniacal . . . like the power had gone to my head, drained me of any empathy. And Old Me might have been right. Every cell in my body felt different than it used to—transformed by this year into something harder and wiser, and in some ways crueler. But after fighting this hard, for this long, I couldn’t bear the idea that it all had been for nothing. It was the same logic that had led to so many other terrible decisions, made by so many other people . . . but this time, I didn’t see any other options.
“I wish I had a better idea. I know you can’t tell me any of yours, while my mother can overhear us, but . . . anyone? Anything?”
The others exchanged glances, and Zack said carefully, “Give us a minute, okay?”
I exiled myself outside the hospital room, resisting the temptation to listen in. Deep down, I hoped they’d emerge to tell me I’d been outvoted, that I was off the hook, that someone else had come up with a better plan that wouldn’t cross so many moral lines. But when Jude’s somber face finally appeared in front of me, I knew no one had. “You won. Barely.”
“I don’t feel like I won,” I told him.
He nodded, understanding. “For what it’s worth, I voted in your favor. So did Layla, and Dawn, and Zack.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Maybe the world out there doesn’t believe in you so much anymore. But your friends do,” he reassured me, knowing even before I did, that it was their support I most needed in this moment. Jude always knew what I needed to hear and how to say it in just the right way.
I steeled my courage. “I guess we call my mom now? Make our gambit.”
Jude’s expression went dark. “Your mother’s already here.” He showed me a video, streaming live footage from outside Redenção, where my mother was waiting next to a helicopter, its wings slicing through the air ominously. The sight of her face gave me chills. As expected, she’d heard my every word—and she was ready for us.
“Let’s record the video,” I said. “Let her see just how devastating its effects will be.”
I was about to see my mother face-to-face again. I had to pray this time would go better than the last.
16
I left my recorded message in Zack’s hands. “We’ll set it to upload automatically in a week,” he assured me. “Dawn’s good with computers, she worked out a fail-safe. No matter what, even if Esther kills us, it’ll go live anyway, one week from now. There’s no way to stop the release.”
“Did you hear that, Mom?” I said to the air above us. “You have to help us. Or you’re responsible for killing billions of people.” I hoped the trolley problem I’d presented my mother was compelling enough to convince her to acquiesce to our demands. Though I knew she could see the overpowering fear coursing through my veins that maybe she wouldn’t. If I’d misread her, if we’d calculated wrong . . . I was about to become the most heinous, genocidal monster the world had ever known.
Zack took my hand, and a little flutter went through me that I was embarrassed my mother would also witness. “Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks, I’ll need it.”
We drove out of the city in near silence, and I could see Zack cho
osing his words carefully. Finally, he offered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t the person I wanted to be. With you, I mean.”
“Thanks,” I said, surprised by his admission of responsibility. It was strange to see him looking so small and ashamed. When we’d first gotten together, he’d seemed so much older, wiser. Because he had been. That was the problem with falling for someone while still young and naïve—eventually, young and naïve people grow up.
“Considering how little experience you had, and everything . . . I have to admit you did a pretty good job.” Though I knew he meant it as a compliment, even now I could hear the condescension in his voice. Some part of him was still sure he could have done it all better. Before, that kind of criticism might have bothered me, but now I simply felt sad for Zack, that he had to live life so hamstrung by his own insecurities. It was clear to me now, he’d never been fully comfortable with me having any kind of power he didn’t possess. My strength and wisdom threatened his need to be the strongest and wisest. And if I had to choose between being strong and wise, and dating Zack—I chose my own strength.
In the distance, I could see Esther’s helicopter waiting for me. “Do you want me to come with you?” Zack asked. The kindness in his voice melted just a little of the ice that had formed inside my heart.
I shook my head. “I need you here. Making sure that video uploads.”
He hugged me tight, like he might be saying goodbye forever. “You can do this,” he said, reassuring.
“I hope so.”
He teased, “You better—you’re Prophet Grace, after all.”
“I’m going to miss being called that,” I admitted.
“You’ll be on one of those ‘Where are they now’ specials in ten years. ‘Remember Prophet Grace?’”
I laughed at the thought. “I hope I’ll be on a farm or in the jungle or something. I think I’ve interacted with enough people in the past few months to last a lifetime.”
“You’ll be somewhere great. I know that much.” I’d forgotten how much warmth I used to feel when he looked at me.
I hugged him again, knowing that if I didn’t leave soon, I wouldn’t be able to leave at all. The pull of the happy life I’d once imagined I could share with Zack remained strong, even now that I knew all the downsides that came along with it. But that life was gone for good now. So many lives I’d left behind already, in just eighteen short years. “I’ll see you soon,” I said.
His smile still dazzled, his winks still left me gooey-legged. But something about that goodbye felt final. Like we were saying goodbye to what had been, to us.
Determined and apprehensive, I walked alone toward the dot on the horizon, which would grow into a helicopter, and my mother. It felt familiar—this wasn’t the first time I’d met her on the edge of this town. But now the tables were turned: she held all the power, and I was at her mercy.
When I arrived, she tossed me a pair of ear mufflers. “The helicopter gets noisy.”
I took them, wary. “No need to talk about why I’m here, I guess? You know what I’m going to ask you?”
Her voice quavered with a kind of resoluteness. “You want me to turn back the Revelations. To let you tell everyone the truth.”
“Yeah, glad you were listening,” I said pointedly.
“Well, you’re in luck. You’re going to get your wish.”
It felt like a trick. I treated it like one. “That easy?”
“Easy for your friends, less easy for you.” Her gaze, and her words, contained a threat. “Give up your freedom, and the rest of the world will have theirs.”
I imagined a dreary life spent in a cold, damp cell. My mother’s cell. “Of course,” I told her, suppressing my dread. “Whatever it takes.”
She nodded, transaction complete. “Get in. Clock’s ticking.”
“Where are we headed?” I asked, nervously complying.
My mother answered brusquely and uninformatively. “To an airport.”
“And then . . . ?”
She smiled, as though taking some joy in taking her daughter on such a journey. “To the seat of the prophets’ power. Vatican City.”
I buckled my seat belt, trepidation brewing. It was going to be a long trip.
Book Six
1
As the helicopter took off, flying high above the lush Brazilian landscape, my stomach flip-flopped. My mother had just as easily acquiesced to my demands once before. And the last time, she’d found a way betray me more deeply than I’d thought possible. She hadn’t handcuffed me yet, that was a good sign. But the inscrutable look on her face didn’t give me any clues about what her true plans might be.
We disembarked at an airport near Salvador, Brazil, and my mother walked us to a private solar plane—one of the many lavish ones owned by the prophets. As we stepped on board, I marveled at the plush leather cushions and the spacious cabin, which was empty save for the two of us. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, as the engines revved to life.
I glanced at the pilot, wondering if he was privy to all the same secrets I was. I’d never know—he closed the door behind him, giving us total privacy. “Glass of wine?” I asked, testing her.
She chuckled at the request. “Not till you’re twenty-one,” she said, brushing by the fact that she and the prophets had outlawed alcohol.
“You’re such a responsible mother,” I said sarcastically.
“I try,” she said, a note of sarcasm in her voice as well.
I wondered what kind of hornet’s nest I’d be walking into once we landed in Italy. “Does anyone else know I’m coming?” I asked. “Anyone else you work with?”
“Of course,” my mother said.
So they’d be prepared for me. But, I realized, I still didn’t know who “they” were. Though I’d spent so much time fighting against this system, I still wasn’t totally sure how it worked. “Who’s in charge? Of . . . I don’t know, the world I guess. Do the prophets answer to anyone?”
She laughed a little. “You mean am I the overlord of all Earth? No, I’m not. There isn’t one. To make this system work, every country on the planet had to agree to give up some of their sovereignty. But not all of it. What’s left is a democracy of sorts.”
“Of sorts,” I said ruefully.
“Better than the UN used to be, with just a few rich countries dominating all the decision-making. Or any of the empires before that, where colonized people had no rights at all . . .” she said defensively.
“So because other systems were worse, that makes yours better?”
“I think that’s the definition of better, yes,” she said, relishing her turn of phrase. A moment later, her face darkened. Perhaps she was remembering why I was here, what we were about to do—dismantle everything she’d built. “Well, we had a good run, at least.”
I couldn’t bring myself to have any sympathy for her. “And killed a lot of people in the process, yeah, I’d call that a good run.”
I’d hoped my words would sting her, but instead, her face softened. “I’m truly sorry about everything that’s happened to your friends. To Dr. Smith.” Regret burned inside me, realizing that my mother had only been able to assassinate her by reading my thoughts.
“And for invading my mind, you want to apologize for that?” I asked.
“I do,” she said, seemingly genuinely. Then she followed with a smirk. “For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for Jude.” My insides burned, knowing she’d only said that because she could see that deep down, some part of me was rooting for him, too.
As we reached altitude, the exhaustion of the past few days finally hit me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a full night’s sleep, with all the worrying over my missing friends. Though I wanted to stay alert, keep an eye on my mother, soon I felt my eyelids sliding shut, as my consciousness slipped into the comfort of these luxurious seats.
When I awoke, we were descending into a landscape dotted with aged architecture; we’d made it to Europe. I stretched
, rubbing my eyes, and was surprised to see that my mother looked as wide awake and put together as when we’d first boarded. There was a superhuman quality to her, as though she had no concerns for eating or sleeping. She was like a shark—always moving, always on the prowl. And now, her keen eyes watched me closely. “Are you ready?”
Ready to put an end to all this? I’d never been more ready for anything in my life. Adrenaline rushing, I braced for landing . . . and for whatever my mother was planning next.
2
A limo arrived to take us from the airstrip to Vatican City, a tiny nation encapsulated by the city of Rome. In its heyday, it had been the seat of the Holy Roman Empire, with popes ruling vast swaths of Europe. Though the city-state’s influence had dwindled in the intervening centuries, the Revelations had given the metropolis a new kind of power. Inside these walls lay the collective government of the prophets, a worldwide bureaucracy that coordinated the efforts of people like my mother all around the world. The CIAs and MI6s and ASISs, all working together to ensure their secrets would never be discovered. And now, I was driving through their gates to tear it all down.
“Morning, Tomas,” my mother said, nodding to a security guard at the entrance gate.
“Whatever happened to the last pope?” I asked as Esther swiped a card at the gate, opening the doors to the walled-off city. I remembered seeing pictures of a white-haired man outside these buildings when I was little—one whose life had been suspiciously cut short.
She sighed. “We wanted him to join us, obviously. What better prophet to legitimize the cause to millions of Catholics? He hated the idea though. Told us we were committing the greatest sin imaginable, blah blah blah.” Apparently his gruesome death in the Revelations had been no accident.
Ruthless Page 19
