I ran a hand over my mouth. “So . . . what? We colonize Earth after all?”
“Not exactly.”
The flatness of her tone gave me shivers. “I don’t understand. Again.”
The woman glanced down at her tablet. “As of this moment you are immediately graduated to the training-level group. There’s no point testing your skills any further. We’ve seen enough on that score.”
The fuzz on my neck stood. “And the others?”
“They have to earn their spots. We won’t insert any but the best candidates. We simply can’t risk it. Chrysalis is a marvel, but its time will end. The colony is the future of human existence, and we’re taking no chances with it.”
My lips parted, but she rolled right over me. “I’ll be candid, Min. The majority of your class will likely be assigned to repurposement. Even your spot is not assured. This is your first formal interview.”
A lump rose in my throat. I swallowed it, trying to process this information. “Where are my friends now?” I resisted asking about Noah, but my cheeks reddened, and from the look on her face I might as well have said it.
“Your classmates are still in the testing facility. The Terrarium has been emptied, perhaps for the last time. Three Programs are complete, and the fourth . . . Well, we’re rethinking our core design. The Terrarium continues to serve as our source of biomaterial. It truly is a wonder.”
“How many kids are still being tested?” I persisted. “What does repurposement mean?”
Sophia didn’t answer for several heartbeats. “It’s best not to concern yourself with the selection process. Repurposement aboard Chrysalis is as noble a calling as colonization. We all serve the mission.”
I wanted more—what kind of answer is that?—but Sophia rose and walked to the far wall. She pressed something on her tablet and a panel opened, revealing a view beyond the station.
“Come and see, Min.”
I thought about refusing, but couldn’t help myself. I joined her and we stared down at the planet, a messy tangle of blues, greens, yellows, and swirling white, set like a marble on a field of endless black. It was breathtaking. I felt unexpected tears on my cheeks and hurriedly wiped them away. “Is it real?”
Sophia beamed. “This isn’t a video screen, Min. It’s a window. You are looking at the future cradle of mankind.”
A smile tugged the corners of my mouth. “I hope Earth welcomes us back. It’s changed a bit since I was last there.”
Sophia laughed uproariously, losing her breath in the process. I watched her from the corner of my eye, slightly unnerved. Her response seemed out of proportion to my tiny joke.
Sophia wiped her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, Min. You can’t understand why that was so amusing.” She cleared her throat, then gave me a calculating look. “I shouldn’t reveal this information. There’s a worry that knowing too much too soon might complicate the process for our candidates, or breed fear. But you’re different from the others, aren’t you?”
Her statement was so bizarre, I simply shrugged, shaking my head slightly to show I didn’t understand. Sophia giggled in response. She nodded at the miraculous multicolored orb spinning below us.
“It’s what you said.” Sophia put a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but forced myself to stand still. “The planet down there. It’s got you fooled.”
I grunted nervously. “How is that? What is Earth pretending to be?”
“That’s just it. During the construction of Chrysalis, it was clear almost immediately to the station’s AI that the original Nemesis plans would fail. So it made other arrangements while we slept.”
My patience ran dry. I didn’t like this woman touching me. Her hand was cold, her breath weirdly sterile.
“Maybe you could just explain.”
“You’re not looking at Earth, Min. Earth is still largely a ruin.”
My gaze shot to the planet below. Blue. Green. White. What the hell is she talking about? A deeper part of my mind realized that Sophia wasn’t gripping my shoulder to be friendly.
“What . . . where?” I managed.
“Mars, Min.” Her blue eyes were chips of smothering ice. “While we hid as ones and zeroes, Chrysalis decided that terraforming the Red Planet would be simpler than detoxifying our old one. Part of me is certain that this has happened before, in the ancient past. Perhaps we’re truly returning home in a longer sense.”
I jerked backward, unable to bear her touch a moment longer. “That’s . . . that’s Mars?” The walls began closing in, panic rising in my throat like fire. “Is that true? Is any of this real? I . . . I don’t . . .”
Sophia watched me with a predatory gleam. “I’ll level with you, Min. I’ve chosen you out of all the members of Nemesis One to offer a deal. Listen carefully and consider it.”
My head was pounding. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Sophia moved close again. Something about her expression set my alarm bells ringing. “I want you to get your class in order. Help bring everyone on board with the testing process. Do that, and I’ll guarantee you a spot in the colony. In fact, I’ll even go one better.”
She tilted her head, and I knew I’d have to speak the words.
“What?” I whispered.
Her smile deepened to the leer of a shark. “I’ll let you choose another, Min Wilder. One additional person advanced to the colonization team, no questions asked. Isn’t that nice? Surely there must be someone you care enough about to help us?”
Her smirk burned down into my pores. Terror shot through me.
She knows everything about my life. She has me.
This was more than an offer, it was a threat. But a part of me was desperate to take it.
Noah, I thought.
I can pick Noah.
26
NOAH
There were twenty-three of us.
I kept waiting for more classmates to walk in through the portals, but after a full day with no new additions, I feared no one else was coming.
I grew sick with worry. Min was among the missing.
For two days, I’d done nothing. Familiar faces appeared—an airlock would open and a kid would cautiously step through, having graduated to this second phase. Not that we knew what that meant. We’d had no word from Sophia or anyone else. We spent our waking hours lounging in the common room, then slept in a dorm-style facility at night.
A new door had opened late on the first day, revealing a windowless chamber with rows of bunks and a communal bathroom. Derrick, Sarah, Sam, and I were the first residents, but others trickled in after us, every single one of them a welcome addition.
Akio. Casey and Hector. Alice Cho. Ethan. More and more arrived, until I began to think everyone was going to show up eventually. But then the trickle stopped.
We listed those who’d disappeared inside the testing corridors. Dakota Sargent. Charlie. Corbin. Maggie and Jessica. Anna Loring. Leah Halpern. Richie. No one had any idea where they were. “Repurposement” haunted the facility like a curse, never spoken aloud, as if by saying the word you might bring it down upon yourself.
With every door swish, I looked for Min. And was disappointed each time.
Finally, on the third day, as we sat around the tables growing bored despite our nerves, the screen lowered again and Sophia’s face appeared. We straightened like elementary school kids caught slacking by their principal. The tension in the room was palpable.
“Greetings and congratulations,” she said warmly. “You have passed the basic skills and aptitude battery and been classified as acceptable for possible colony insertion.”
I heard a few relieved gasps, but most just stared at the screen. Despite the woman’s smile, there was something about her that set my teeth on edge. I waited for the other shoe to drop.
I didn’t have to wait long.
; “You will now participate in the interview process. A Chrysalis crew member will assess whether you’d be a good fit for our bridgehead community. Please be at ease during this procedure. Those not selected will still have a chance to serve the colony through repurposement aboard the station. Chrysalis relies upon those contributions as much as the work to be done on the planet’s surface. When you see your name onscreen, please proceed down the corridor.”
A doorway appeared in the far wall. I stared at the opening, lips mashed into a thin line. My instincts growled in warning. We still had no idea where the others were.
“Where’s Dakota?” Casey shouted, red-faced as she rose to her feet. “She’d want to be with us no matter what!” Beside her, Lauren nodded furiously. The soccer girls did everything together—I knew they were desperate about their friend.
Other voices called out names. Sophia held up a hand for silence.
“You have questions. It’s natural. But you must first complete the screening process. I promise you will be reunited with those selected for repurposement. For now, focus on your own position. Anyone no longer wishing to be considered for colonial insertion should say so immediately.”
Furtive glances darted the room, but no one spoke. Then Aiken Talbot stood. “Where’s Anna?” he asked quietly. “I want to know where she is.”
Aiken and Anna had been separated during the initial testing phase aboard the station, but he’d learned she was in the other group. Having graduated to this phase early on the second day, he’d sat by the opposite airlock ever since, refusing even to sleep in the dorm until she appeared. But Anna never came through.
Sophia spoke with no inflection. “Ms. Loring was selected for repurposement.”
The color drained from Aiken’s face. “Then I quit,” he said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere without her. Put me with my girlfriend, bitch.”
Sophia regarded him silently for several heartbeats. “As you wish.”
A second door opened. Aiken sighed deeply.
I was on my feet before I knew what I was doing. I grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered urgently.
“Aiken, don’t. I don’t trust this.”
He shrugged from my grip, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. “You think I do? But I’m not leaving her alone.” He trudged to the doorway and stepped through it. The exit sealed as if it had never been.
I spun to the screen, a sour taste filling my mouth. Sophia was watching me.
“Anyone else?” she asked softly.
No one moved.
“Excellent. The interviews will begin now.”
* * *
• • •
White table. White chair. Mirror along one wall.
It felt like a bad space-cop show. I almost giggled, but I couldn’t chase the chill from my spirit.
Sophia’s eyes when she’d asked if anyone else wanted to quit. The set of her jaw. It had been so . . . final. So unforgiving. I worried that Aiken had made a terrible mistake.
The door opened and Sophia herself walked in, carrying a tablet. She sat, started the device, and proceeded to ignore me. I waited patiently, barely daring to breathe. I felt the raw anxiety of a woodland creature spotting an owl’s shadow pass through the moonlight.
Finally, she looked up. “Noah Charles Livingston.” Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t place. “You had quite a time inside the Program, didn’t you, young man?”
My pulse quickened. I hated thinking about the Program. I did terrible things, and though I’d worked hard to atone for them, some memories never fade. All I said was “If you say so.”
“Oh, I do.” She adopted a wry half smile. “These statistics are impressive. You were well on your way to total victory before you . . . changed course.”
Anger flared inside me. “Realized how stupid I’d been, you mean.”
Sophia set down her tablet, her expression one of confused curiosity. “Stupid? Noah, the point of the Program was to prove yourself, and you were doing exceptionally well. Then you risked everything by subrogating your will to that of another, a troubling deviation in an otherwise stellar performance. It almost cost you everything.”
I shook my head in bewilderment. “You don’t get it. That saved everything. Min showed me I didn’t have to be that way, despite the Program.” I sat back with a smug grin of my own. “And it turned out okay, right? I’m here aboard your fine space station, and none of my friends were eliminated. I’d call that a win-win.”
“You’d be wrong.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, but her eyes cut like diamonds. “If your class had obeyed the rules, you wouldn’t have been subjected to any further testing. The final twenty would’ve spent another six months inside the Terrarium, proving yourself as pioneers, and then been delivered to the station as a unit. Now things are much less certain. Your place on the surface is in no way assured.”
I shrugged. Saw the first flicker of irritation cross her face. Good.
“Why not just send everyone?” I asked suddenly. “Won’t the colony be better off with as many people as possible? To me it seems like the more boots on the ground, the better.”
“Our models strongly suggest otherwise. And they are very good models. We have to prune the weak branches, and you’re in danger of being classified as one.”
I covered my alarm by needling, hoping to provoke a reaction. “I’m not even sure I believe you.”
Sophia’s face closed off like a bank vault. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think you can afford to get rid of us.”
“Oh?”
I leaned forward. “There were only four Nemesis Programs, and you already lost one altogether. The first group to come out might be serving as your puppets, but you need our class to fill in the gaps. Regeneration can’t be cheap, and there’s no one else to exploit. Like it or not, you’re stuck with the kids from Fire Lake.”
She sat quietly a moment. “You forget Nemesis Four.”
I shrugged indifferently. “More of the same, probably. If they’re ever ready. But we’re here now.”
Every word I’d spoken was a bluff, but her shoulders tensed. Sophia’s mouth slipped into a frown, which then flattened to nonexistence.
Something.
I wasn’t totally right, but I’d touched a nerve.
Sophia sat back and regarded me again, as if seeing a tricky puzzle anew. “That position is a dangerous gamble.”
I thought it through. “Tell us why you lied. Why the Terrarium deception?”
“Are you asking the questions now?” Sophia ran a hand through her glossy black hair, the first relatable gesture I’d seen her exhibit. “Your class truly is intractable. We should dump the whole lot of you into space and be done with it.”
Distress must’ve registered on my face.
“A small joke.” Sophia studied me a moment longer. “Very well. I’ll answer. We introduced Nemesis classes into the Terrarium to gauge how well they’d respond to isolation in a foreign environment. There’s no way back up to Chrysalis from the surface. It’s a one-way trip, so we have to be sure.”
“A trip you don’t want to make yourselves. Why?”
“We have a station to run.” Then she continued a little more quickly than before. “Down on the planet, life will be hard. There’s no room for error. We can’t risk inserting a person who might crack under pressure. So, we test. We assess. We make sure.”
I found myself nodding along, which surprised me. But Sophia’s explanation made sense. It made me question my instinct that Chrysalis had to be against us. Maybe this process was logical after all. Maybe these people really didn’t mean to exploit us.
We had deviated from our Program. We did risk our MegaCom by subverting the rules. It stood to reason we’d be treated with caution, perhaps even mistrust by those aboard. All at once, I began to s
ee things differently.
“Explain what you want,” I said. “If . . . if you’re being straight with me, I’ll help you.”
Sophia unleashed a radiant smile. “That’s all I ask, Noah. Trust me, we have your best interests at heart.”
I paused as if considering, then slid in the next question. “What is repurposement?”
Something moved behind her eyes. The cold feeling returned. I was certain that whatever she said next would be a lie.
“Repurposement is the highest calling aboard Chrysalis. It’s a chance to—”
A door zipped open. My eyes widened as the body of a guard tumbled inside. The trooper collapsed against the wall and lay still.
I gaped, openmouthed, as Tack stuck his head into the room. He saw me and grinned, but his smirk faded upon seeing my interrogator.
“Again?” he muttered.
Sophia stood, her face carved from granite. “Thomas Russo. I see you aren’t smart enough to stay hidden, however you’re pulling it off. Know that you’ve already been struck fr—”
A blast of light slammed into Sophia’s chest. She toppled backward over the table and hit the floor, her neck bending at a sickly angle.
I shouted in horror, then my gaze snapped to Tack.
To the sleek black gun he was gripping with both hands.
27
MIN
Rose.
She was waiting outside the interrogation room with the boy who’d walked me there, hands on her hips and an unfriendly gleam in her eye. The other girl was gone. I guessed she’d taken her place.
Suddenly, I was tired all over. Sophia had just bludgeoned me with a truth hammer, and I didn’t want to go any more rounds with this angry redhead. I had enough to think about. But I wasn’t making the calls around here.
“We’re to escort you back,” the boy said, a Latino kid with light brown eyes and shaggy hair.
“Sure. I’m Min.”
“I caught that,” he said dryly. “I’m Miguel.”
Chrysalis Page 21
