“What was in the vial?” I say, my lips barely moving, the sound barely traveling.
Maxxer shakes her head, refusing to look at me. “Colored water,” she admits softly. “It was a decoy. I had to test you. To see if you had been manipulated.”
“You tricked me?” I shout, struggling to stand up but eventually collapsing back into the couch after much failed effort.
“Please calm down and listen to me,” Maxxer coaxes.
“Zen will die and it’s because of YOU! The gene will kill him!”
“Sera,” she says again. Each instance of my name on her lips reignites my rage. “You need to trust me.”
“TRUST YOU?!” I shriek so loudly my voice bounces off the thick glass and echoes back to me. “After you lied to me? Tricked me? Lured me here under false pretenses?”
“Now,” she replies in a sharp tone, “I didn’t give any indication in the memories that I was leading you here to give you the repressor.”
I open my mouth to reply but quickly shut it, my teeth snapping together, when I realize that she’s right. The memories just said, “Find me.” I made the assumption that Zen was the reason I needed to find her. Even so, her defense does nothing to quell my anger.
“That’s irrelevant,” I spit. “You knew he was going to get sick. You knew I’d be looking for a cure. And you knew I would blame Diotech for his illness. That’s probably why you didn’t tell me that he was going to get sick when we first met, even though you had to have known. You thought that if I was given enough time and enough motivation, I would come to despise them and that would only make it easier to recruit me.”
“That’s not true.” But she licks her lips and doesn’t meet my gaze when she says it, giving her away. “I care about you, Sera. And Zen.”
I scoff, “I don’t believe you.”
The door creaks open, interrupting our argument. The man identified as Trestin pokes his head inside. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his curious eyes darting from me to Maxxer.
I’m still plagued by the unyielding sensation that I know him.
That I’ve met him before.
“We’ve been tracking the news of the outbreak in the nav deck,” he informs Maxxer. “It’s turning into quite the media circus. It shouldn’t be long now.”
He turns and offers me a friendly wink.
Media circus.
I know that phrase. I’ve heard it before. When I was leaving the hospital in 2013. When everyone thought I’d survived a plane crash.
The first time I heard it said was by the man who was trying to locate my family. Mr. Rayunas was his name. He said he worked for Social Services. He’s the one who placed me with the Carlson family.
I study the man who just came into the room and I feel my stomach tighten.
No.
It can’t be.
Mr. Rayunas was much rounder. Older. His hair was thinning. He had wrinkles around his eyes. An extra layer of skin under his chin.
This man is young and slender with a full head of thick brown hair.
But the eyes. And the voice. And the smile. They’re the same.
How though? How is that possible? Why would an older, heavier version of this man be in 2013 with me?
“Thanks, Trestin,” Maxxer replies with a tight smile. “I’ll deal with that later.”
He nods and ducks out again.
Something is going on here. Maxxer is hiding something. A lot of things.
I narrow my gaze at her. “Why did you lie to me about Trestin?”
Her eyebrows rise. “I didn’t.
Another lie.
“He works with you.”
She nods. “He’s a crucial part of the alliance I’ve formed to bring down the Providence.”
“Why did he also work for Social Services in 2013?”
Maxxer freezes. I see the panic on her face. Apparently I wasn’t supposed to remember that. Or I wasn’t supposed to piece it together. Either way, she’s caught. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Like I said, he has one of those faces.”
“Oh, STOP!” I cry. “I’m not stupid. I remember him. He called himself Mr. Rayunas. He placed me with Cody’s family. I want to know why!”
Maxxer’s eyes close just for a moment, seemingly in surrender. She pulls a chair out from under the bar and places it across from me. Then she lowers herself into the seat.
“The first thing you need to understand,” she begins tentatively, “is that the Providence is bad news. Very bad news.”
“Answer my question,” I seethe.
She raises her hand in the air. “I will. But you have to know my motivations. You have to understand why I did what I did. I’ve learned a lot about this organization. I’ve been transessing all around the world, through hundreds of time periods gathering data on them. They are insufferable. Pure evil.”
She motions out the window at the endless sea. “There’s an outbreak going on right now, in July of 2032.”
“The white fever,” I say, remembering the news footage I saw in the subway.
“Yes. It’s a virus that if left unchecked could destroy the entire population.” She pauses and takes a breath. “They released that virus.”
I try not to let my astonishment show. I don’t want Maxxer to know that I’m in any way sympathetic to her.
“But of course, they won’t let the human race perish. That’s not part of the plan. In two weeks they will release the vaccine for it. A vaccine they’ve been holding on to for months.”
“But the news footage I saw said the Centers for Disease Control was working on a vaccine,” I counter.
“Sure, the CDC was working on it. But the Providence already has it. They created it at the same time they created the virus. They wanted people to think the situation was dire. They wanted it to get to a point where panic started to spread. That way, when the vaccine was released, people would be lined up around the block to get their hands on it. And they will. I’ve seen it.”
I shrug. “So what?”
“So,” Maxxer says gravely, “the problem is, it’s not just a vaccine. It contains untraceable technology that will forever alter the genetic makeup of everyone who is injected with it.”
Despite myself, I lean forward, rapt.
“This genetic modification will make people more susceptible to other, less-extreme ailments. Allergies, flu, common cold, headaches. It will remove the body’s natural ability to fight off regular, everyday illnesses and make people completely dependent on drugs. Drugs manufactured by companies owned solely by members of the Providence.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “How does this explain why Trestin was in 2013?”
Maxxer nods anxiously. “I’m getting there.” She takes another breath. “This kind of manipulation has been happening since the early twenty-first century and it will go on for decades to come. But in about seventy-five years, there will be a small uprising among U.S. citizens. A naturalist movement, if you will. People who will, more or less, recognize what’s going on and will blame the government for it. Of course the government is a mere pawn in the Providence’s game. In reality, it’s powerless. The plot to use vaccines and the pharmaceutical companies as a way to keep tabs on people will be, for the most part, exposed and therefore no longer effective. And that’s when the Providence will turn to an even scarier method of grasping control. A method they’ve actually been planning for decades. In fact, the origins of it are being developed right now.” She jabs her finger toward the window three times, in syncopation with each of her next three words: “Right. Out. There.”
She shifts in her chair. “But the plan will not actually be put into effect until the year 2109. And that’s when the Providence will buy into a very small but very promising biotechnology start-up company.”
“Diotech,” I whisper.
“Exactly,” she replies. “Diotech will receive an insane amount of funding, be moved to a remote desert location, clearance and security measures wi
ll be maximized, and the most important research project in the Providence’s history will be initiated.” She looks pointedly at me.
A cold and hopeless gust of invisible wind blows over me.
“The one that created me.”
“Yes,” she states. “It will be called the Genesis Project. And it will be used to create the most perfect sequence of human DNA in existence.”
“But why?” I ask. “What do they hope to gain from creating me?”
“Aha,” Maxxer says. “That’s what I set out to discover. And fortunately, or unfortunately, I finally figured it out.”
I bite my lip in anticipation. This is what I’ve been waiting for. For I don’t know how long. The reason I’m here. The reason they made me.
“You,” Maxxer says, “and I imagine Kaelen as well, were intended to be used as promotional material.”
My brow furrows. “Promotional material?”
She nods. “For a series of genetic modifications that will be sold over-the-counter at virtually any store in the world. Perfection in a bottle. Do you want to be as beautiful or as handsome as this? We have a solution for that. Do you want to run fast, heal quickly, never wrinkle, outsmart everyone you know? We can do that, too.”
She watches my reaction carefully. “It’s a product line that plays to every human desire, every fear, every fragile ego. And everyone”—she pauses, allowing her next three words time to sink in—“will want it.”
“But just like the vaccine,” I deduce, “there will be something else in it.”
She smiles warmly at me. “Exactly.”
I shudder. “What?”
“Essentially the same thing they did to you when you unknowingly attempted to kill me. Highly complex stimulated-response systems. Nanotechnology that will nest inside your brain, remain completely dormant, completely undetectable, until it’s ready to be activated.”
“But what will they use it to do?”
Maxxer’s face goes rigid. “Anything. They. Want.”
I swallow hard, imagining the implications. The horror of having billions of bombs walking around, unaware that any moment they could explode. Just like I did.
“Wars, mass suicides, assassinations, comatose states, purchases of new products, runs on the bank. The possibilities are endless. All they have to do is broadcast a signal and people will do the rest.” She dramatically mimes pressing something with her finger. “The entire human race controlled by the touch of a button.”
Then she leans forward, meets my gaze, and holds it tightly. “And it all starts … with you.”
55
CONTENDERS
Suddenly it’s as though the sedative is back in my bloodstream and every molecule of me is useless again. Lips won’t move. Tongue won’t speak. Eyes won’t close. Forcing me to stare, unblinkingly, at the woman sitting before me.
“The most brilliant part of the Providence’s plan,” Maxxer goes on, “is that they’re going to successfully make people want it. They won’t have to force the product on anyone. Once consumers see you, they’ll be lined up around the block, willing to pay for it. That’s why Alixter has been fighting so hard to get you back. You are a key ingredient to pulling off this plan.”
I shake my head. “Why doesn’t he just create another synthetic being? He did it with Kaelen. If it’s that easy, then I should be replaceable.”
“My theory is that Kaelen was actually part of the original plan. They always intended to create him. A male counterpart. It makes sense. It was called the Genesis Project, referring to the first chapter of the Bible, which tells the story of the creation of Eve and Adam. Alixter always loved mocking anything to do with religion. It’s the reason he pushed to name the company Diotech, meaning God’s science.
“But making you was expensive,” Maxxer continues. “And I’m sure Kaelen was as well. If Alixter hasn’t told the Providence that you went missing—which, if he values his life and his kneecaps, I can’t imagine he would—then he’d have to pull another trillion dollars out of the budget to replace you. That kind of money doesn’t disappear without being noticed. He’d never be able to cover it up. No, he needs you back.”
“But he sent me here,” I argue. “Kaelen could have taken me back to Diotech at any time.”
“That’s where the little hiccup in his plan happened. He got sick. He needed the repressor. He knew you were the only one I would let near me. Then I’m sure he intended on having Kaelen deliver you back to the compound. Preferably before the Providence notices that you’re gone.”
“Okay,” I allow, trying to steady my thoughts in this spinning room. “But that doesn’t answer my original question. About Trestin appearing in 2013.”
Maxxer stands and walks to the bar. This time, she doesn’t reach for the strange green beverage. Instead she pours from a flask full of a light brown liquid. It looks like the same thing Cody was drinking at his lab.
“You realize how awful they are, don’t you?” Maxxer prods. “You see how they have to be stopped? How this plan can’t be allowed to continue?”
“Answer my question.”
“I just need to know that you understand what I’m fighting against.”
“Fine,” I say, losing my patience. If I even had any to start with. “I understand.”
“The truth is, it wasn’t an accident that you landed in 2013.” Maxxer takes a gulp and exhales loudly. “I sent you there.”
Whether my legs are working now or not is irrelevant. I launch to my feet, wobbling slightly on the way up. “Y-y-you did WHAT?”
“After I fled the compound, I used to return from time to time to”—she hesitates, looking anxious—“visit. In secret, obviously.”
“Visit?” I repeat. “Who?”
Her hands get fidgety. “Mostly Dr. Rio. He and I were … close. He was the only person on the compound who I shared my research with.”
Close?
“Anyway, during one of my … visits,” Maxxer says, “Rio told me about your request for the transession gene so that you could run away with Zen. He also told me that you’d asked him to wipe your memories before you left. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But then later, as I started to gather information about the Providence and their developments, I transessed back to the compound the night before you left. I implanted a trigger in your mind. A trigger that would send you to 2013 instead of 1609.”
“You let go.”
Zen was right. I did let go. I was programmed to let go. That’s what went wrong. That’s how we got separated. And all this time Maxxer knew.
“I’m sorry,” she offers, and somehow her apology feels genuine. Heartfelt. But it doesn’t matter. Everything is beyond apologies now.
“Why?” I ask, my voice breaking. My body dissolving. I sink back into the couch. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I needed you,” Maxxer says, her voice dripping with desperation. “I needed you to join the alliance. To fight the fight.”
“I didn’t ask to fight your fight!” I scream. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”
“I know,” Maxxer admits, looking distraught. “I just … someone had to get to Cody Carlson.”
“Cody?” I repeat. “What does he have to do with it?”
“More than you know,” she responds. “We have reason to believe that the Providence is funding his research. That the breakthrough he is about to make will pave the way to everything that’s coming. The problem is, we still can’t identify even one member of the organization. They are that secret. Cody was our only lead. But adults are hard to crack. They’re not very trusting. We couldn’t just show up today and demand he provide us with information. But if there was someone he trusted. Someone he’d known for a while…”
Her voice trails off and I already see where she’s going. My brain may be one step ahead but my stomach has been left a hundred miles behind us, somewhere in the darkness of the ocean. “So you sent me back to 2013 to gain his trust.”
She nods. “Trestin just facilitated the introduction by placing you in the Carlsons’ home.”
“But he looked different,” I say, remembering Mr. Rayunas’s aged features and thinning hair. “Older somehow.”
“Just a disguise. I temporarily altered his genetic makeup to advance his age and add more weight to his body. The effects wear off in a few days.”
“And the plane crash?” I ask. “Was it your idea to plant me in the middle of all that wreckage? To make it seem like I was a survivor?”
Maxxer cringes. “The crash was an unfortunate side effect.”
“Wait. What?”
She breathes out. “Transession is complicated. Sometimes entries can cause small riffs in the surrounding energy. Especially if perhaps half of your brain was fighting against the trigger and the other half was obeying it. I didn’t intend for it to happen. But it was just a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time kind of thing.”
My eyes widen with horror. “You mean, I caused the plane crash!?”
“Collateral damage, I’m afraid,” Maxxer says, looking remorseful.
I flash back to the moment I awoke in that ocean. To the bodies floating lifelessly around me. Their faces forever frozen in fear. In horrible, terrifying death.
“All those people died because of me,” I say numbly. “And because of you.”
“This is war, Sera,” Maxxer says, the remorse instantly gone. “There will be casualties.”
I let out a choked sob. Everything I’ve ever known is crumbling around me.
This whole time I’ve been fought over. Torn in half. Yanked in two different directions. Manipulated to the point of murder. From both sides. And I never had a clue. I never knew about any of it.
“I never even had a choice.” I don’t realize that I’ve said this last part aloud until Maxxer responds.
“You have a choice now,” she says emphatically. “You can help me bring them down. The evil people who did this to you.”
I squint at her and then shake my head. “Don’t you understand,” I say, my voice trembling but intensifying, “you are just as bad as them! You manipulated this whole thing. You were controlling me from the very beginning! How can you stand there and lecture me about them? You are them!”
Unforgotten Page 27
