“He didn’t go to Edgemere on his own,” Shasta said.
“No. Fournier sent him, but he didn’t know there were kids there.”
Bryn laughed in disbelief. “He didn’t care. He said something horrible about killing the children of his enemies before they grew up to become enemies themselves. Why are you trying to make him sound so…innocent?”
He didn’t answer right away, just stood there as if he was searching for the right words. “He isn’t innocent. None of us are. But he saved me, in more ways than one. I was blind, literally and figuratively.”
Bryn opened her mouth to point out he’d attacked her first, but he said, “I know. I deserved it and I don’t blame you. I’m not the man I was. I don’t expect you to take my word for it, but I see things differently, and not just with my eyes.”
She knew he was trying to tell her something profound, but his confession only creeped her out. She did not want to bond with him, whether he thought he’d changed in any intrinsic way or not.
“Who ordered the attack on the congressman?” Unger asked.
Dundee glanced at Abbott, but said, “I don’t know anything about any congressman.”
“Then how’d you get in here?” Shasta asked. From the sound of it, the xenos in the outer chamber were still enjoying the fight.
“I go where I want.”
“These aren’t your men?”
“No. I’m just here for the girl.”
Bryn knew he meant Nicola. Fournier must have sent him to follow her.
“She’s in my custody.” Shasta didn’t look away from him, nor did she relax her stance. “Sir, this man is patient zero. Does Abbott have a graft?”
“I doubt it,” Unger replied.
“I’ll keep my distance,” Dundee said, “but if you want to find out who’s behind that,” he nodded towards the congressman, “then why don’t you ask them?” he nodded down at the guards.
“We don’t have time to interrogate anyone,” Shasta said.
The corners of Dundee’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown as he contemplated the trussed guards. “Gimme thirty seconds.”
Shasta looked from Dundee to Unger and back again, then stepped back. “Do it.”
Chapter Fifty-four
Singh needed something dry to wear, but this time, none of the guardsmen were willing to volunteer their garments. Scott went to the back of the bus, where Malone’s body was laid out on the seat. Singh was responsible for his death, and it would be an ironic penance to force him to wear the dead man’s bloody clothes, but Scott instantly discarded the idea. Malone deserved better than that.
Scott’s own clothes were draped over the back of the seat where he’d left them. He changed back into them even though they were still damp. Then he gingerly patted Malone down, finding the holophone he’d lent him in the pocket of Dillo’s jacket.
When he brought the suit back to Maddy, her father was curled up in one of the seats holding his hands out over a heating vent, still wearing his life vest. His first intelligible words were, “We have to get off the pier.”
“Yes, well, tell that to the army,” Maddy said.
He looked up at her. “I will. Take me to them and I’ll get us all out of here.”
She took a breath and let it out slowly. “I believe you could do just that. But you won’t. If we took you, you’d have us arrested at the very least. You’re nothing if not predictable.”
“Then why not kill me?”
“Because my friends would like to talk to you.”
“And who are these friends?”
“The ones who blew your sorry ass out of the water,” Scott said.
Singh’s bleary eyes took in the submachine gun before sliding back to Maddy. “I have nothing to say, except if you don’t get off this pier, you’ll die.”
“You might be in danger, but I’m not.” Maddy pointed to her one brown eye. “I’ve got this, remember?”
“I’m not referring to the typhoid. You think I don’t have a graft?”
Maddy’s face didn’t betray her confusion, but her words did. “You’re utterly against them.”
Singh’s lips twisted in scorn. “Only because I saw what it did to you.”
“What does that mean? What did it do to me?”
“You were a young man before he put that bloody pig eye in your head. From a female pig.”
Maddy laughed. “Are you serious? Oh, my dear father. All you had to do was ask and I would have told you I was born this way. I’ve always known.”
Singh turned away, his face frozen in a look of abhorrence.
“But if you must know,” Maddy continued, “the surgery did change me. You forced it on me not because you were concerned about my eyesight, but because you were ashamed of my albinism. You wanted me to look normal, as if that would help me be normal. It was then I realized you would never accept me. In a way, it gave me the confidence I lacked – the strength to defy you and be myself.”
She straightened her spine and held the suit out. “Now take off those wet clothes.”
“No! Haven’t you been listening to me? We have less than two hours to get off this pier!”
Scott stepped closer, leaning over Singh menacingly. “Why?”
Singh clamped his lips shut, leaning forward to remove his life vest. “You have to take me to Colonel Carter. I give you my word I won’t mention any of what happened before.”
“You mean the part where you attacked us? Tried to kill me?” Maddy asked disdainfully. “You’re such a hypocrite. Your word doesn’t hold much weight here.”
Singh took off his shirt and reached for the suit in Maddy’s hand, but she just stared openmouthed at the xenograft on his upper arm. It was in the shape of a rearing lion, but wasn’t made out of fur.
Scott took one look at it and turned to Bastida. “Keep your men back.”
“What?” Singh snatched the suit out of Maddy’s hand. “I told you I had one.”
“A lion.” Her tone held mild admiration. “It’s beautiful. My compliments to your surgeon.”
He thrust his arms through the sleeves of the jacket. “He was an artisan. The lion is from our family crest, not that you would care to recall.”
“And the donor?” she asked with a lift of her eyebrows. “Crocodile, is it?”
Chapter Fifty-five
The last thing Bryn wanted to do was watch Dundee terrorize the guards. Nicola obviously didn’t want to witness it, either, because she turned her back and moved closer to where Bryn was standing, her lower lip trembling. Bryn fought off the urge to reach out with some kind of comforting word or gesture, not because she was confused about her feelings, but because she didn’t know whether Nicola deserved her sympathy.
“Did it work?” Nicola asked.
It took Bryn a second to realize she was asking about whether the nanoneuron activation back at her father’s facility had distracted his men enough for Bryn and the others to get away.
“Yes.”
“How’s my dad?”
“He’s okay.”
At Nicola’s tremulous smile, Bryn had a sudden flash of memory: her mother, lying in her hospital bed, stroking Bryn’s hair with a painfully thin hand.
“I’ll always be with you, Brynnie,” she’d said. Then she’d offered that exact same curve of the lips.
Bryn felt the sharp sting of tears and turned away so Nicola wouldn’t see. The thin man came into her frame of view. He was gazing intently at the ground, but briefly glanced up at her face.
“Bryn Vega,” he said. “Failed social experiment.”
“What?” She glared at him, but he seemed to be avoiding eye contact. There was something not quite right about the guy.
“You could’ve had them eating out of your hand,” he said.
It was easier to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about, but whoever this man was, he clearly knew about her father’s and Fournier’s plan to make her the ‘xenofreak poster child.’
Then out of the blue, Nicola said, “Padme says you know my mother.”
“Your…mother?” Bryn stared at her, appalled.
“She doesn’t mean her donor,” the thin man said.
“Donor?” Bryn repeated. The word came out as the barest whisper.
“The woman who donated her cells so I could be cloned from them,” Nicola said. “Padme told me she died, but the woman who carried me is still alive and that you know her.”
Bryn’s brain still refused to comprehend. “Padme told you this.”
“Uh-huh.”
“When she told you about your, um, donor, did she mention my relationship to her?”
Nicola shook her head. “No, she just said you knew Mouse.”
Bryn took a sharp intake of breath, but anything else Nicola was planning to say was drowned out by the guard, who cried out in pain and then yelled, “I don’t know! He gave us the license number and a description of the car. Told us it was stuck in the Holland Tunnel and that we should bring the fat man and his friend here.”
“Who told you?” Dundee growled. Whatever he was doing to encourage an answer brought another cry of pain from the guard.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…” the guard sobbed.
“That’s enough,” Shasta said. “Whoever’s behind this would have stayed anonymous. The question is: how did that person know the congressman was in the Holland Tunnel?”
“Abbott made a call to his office,” Unger said. “Told them where he was.”
“And you made one to me. Our phones are secure. I assume the congressman’s are, as well.”
“I’m not suggesting security’s been breached. Not from the outside anyway. Abbott suspected someone in his office was leaking information – that’s why he didn’t want to get on the flight. He was afraid Singh knew he was cooperating with us.”
From the outer chamber came a sudden series of bright flashes accompanied by what sounded like greatly-amplified fire crackers going off. Bang! Bang! Bang!
Shasta winced and stuck a finger in her ear. “They’re here.”
Moments later, Jason and Lo appeared in the doorway. Lo kept a lookout while Jason entered the room, carrying a black pack with wheels. He glanced around, frowned at Dundee and said, “Hello, ma’am…sir,” to Shasta and Unger.
“Over here,” Unger said.
Between Jason, Unger and the thin man, they managed to get Abbott loaded onto the portable stretcher. By then the outer chamber had been completely abandoned. Their escape was much easier than Bryn had anticipated. No one impeded their progress, and they made it safely to the UAAV.
They loaded the unconscious congressman into the UAAV, and once Shasta and Unger got on board, Lo drove to the center of the field, while the rest of them walked. Bryn recognized the bonfire they’d occupied earlier and was almost surprised to see Fournier and Padme still sitting there with Mia. Even more surprising was the sight of Carla standing nearby, holding hands with a large, bearded man in an orange coverall.
Nicola broke away from the group to run to her father. Carla saw Bryn, grinned widely, and waved. Bryn was glad to see she was okay, but at the same time, was terribly conflicted. Had Carla really given birth to Nicola?
Carla must have correctly interpreted the look on her face, because she glanced at Nicola and her grin faded, to be replaced by a rueful frown. When Bryn reached her, she said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Your mother asked me to.”
For the second time that day, Bryn was so shocked all she could do was stare. Then as Carla’s meaning sank in, tears flooded her eyes. “You mean Mom wanted it..?”
Carla put a hand on her arm. “She believed in him.”
Bryn looked over at Fournier. He and Nicola were having what looked like a touching reunion.
“Mom needed a new heart, but she would never agree to killing a clone to save her own life.”
“Honey,” Carla said softly, “your mom knew she was dying when she agreed to it. The company that paid for the first pig heart refused to pay for a second one after it failed and she knew a human donor wouldn’t be found in time. Her clone was never going to be sacrificed.”
“That’s not what Dad told me. If that wasn’t the plan, then why clone her at all?”
“Your mom’s heart…she had genetic Dilated Cardiomyopathy. It’s hereditary.”
Bryn blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“He promised her he would try to cure it. For you.”
Bryn put a hand to her chest. “You mean I have it, too?”
“No, no, but your children might.”
“How could he cure it by cloning her?”
“I don’t know exactly. Something about disabling the genes that caused it.” Carla dipped her head and sighed. “There’s something else. Nicola had a twin. I gave birth to two of them.”
“Oh, my God. May…Scott’s adopted sister.”
This time it was Carla’s turn to look shocked. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. Seriously. It’s the reason Scott joined the XIA. May died because Fournier made mistakes in the cloning process. It devastated his parents.”
Carla shook her head sadly. “I always wondered what happened to her. Did you tell your dad about Nicola?”
Bryn shook her head. When Fournier had been trapped in the tunnel and thought he was going to die, he’d given her a message that she’d never delivered. “Tell your father,” he’d said, “Nicola is not for him. I made her for me. But she was never Miranda.” It was why she’d believed her father when he told her Fournier had been in love with her mother.
She looked over just in time to catch Fournier’s eye. He was watching her as if he knew what she and Carla were discussing. Why hadn’t he told her any of this? He’d had plenty of opportunity. She didn’t understand the man at all, but didn’t for a minute think she’d misjudged him. He was a monster pure and simple – which didn’t make him incapable of doing seemingly selfless things.
The man standing next to Carla must not have been paying attention to their conversation, because he shoved a hand out as if they hadn’t been discussing such an intense subject. “I’m Bluto.”
Bryn tore her gaze away from Fournier.
“Nice to meet you.” She took his hand absently because she’d noticed Mia coming towards her – and she looked terrible. Bryn excused herself and went to take her arm. Instead of shaking her off, Mia leaned on her.
“You okay?” Bryn asked.
“Just dizzy.”
Carla appeared on her other side. “Why are you wearing a mask? Are you a carrier?”
“No. I’m not a xeno…or…I am a xeno, but—but–” she broke off with an exasperated exhale.
Carla pulled something from her pocket and held it up. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Bryn flashed Carla a grateful smile and split the protein bar with Mia. While they scarfed it down, Shasta jumped out of the UAAV and stood by the open door. She seemed to be sucking in great gulps of the cold night air. Her battered face was expressionless, but Bryn suspected something was wrong.
She left Mia’s side and walked over. “What is it?”
Shasta sighed. “The congressman is dead.”
Chapter Fifty-six
With the constant stream of information coming through the earbug, Scott followed the events leading up to the rescue of Shasta and the others. When he heard of Congressman Abbott’s passing, he went to the back of the bus to talk to Lo in private.
“Lo,” he said. “You get any of what’s going on here?”
“Sorry, no. Busy. What’s up?”
“I’ve got good news and bad,” he said.
“Bad news first.”
“Singh’s flipping out about being on the pier. Says we have less than two hours before we all die.”
“Really. Die how?”
“Wouldn’t say.”
“Okay. The good
news?”
“He’s got a croc graft.”
After a brief silence, Lo burst out laughing. “Are you serious?” Then she said, “No offense,” and Boardman said, “None taken.”
“Philip Singh has a crocodile graft?” Alton asked. “Did you see it?”
“Yeah,” Scott replied. “Plain as day.”
He heard Alton repeat the news to someone else and then heard Shasta in the background. “Why does that matter?”
Scott caught bits and pieces of the conversation that followed; the gist of which was that no one had told her what Fournier had said about the carriers. He caught Bryn’s voice, “Ask him. He’s right there.”
Several minutes later, he heard, “Agent Harding?” It was Shasta loud and clear; she must have gotten an earbug.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Bring Singh to me. Now.”
“On my way.”
He thought Maddy would protest when he told her they were leaving, but she looked around at the watchful guardsmen and said, “Yes, I think we’ve worn out our welcome.”
Maddy’s four soldiers escorted them down the ramp and through the detainees milling about in the tunnel. When Singh saw the barrier the army had constructed to keep the detainees on the pier, he lunged towards it, shouting, “Help me! I don’t belong here!”
Maddy’s men restrained him as he fought to get away. He began ranting and raving, spitting out obscenities and threats, and her men were forced to drag him along. Finally, as they were about to enter the corridor leading to the field, he appealed to Maddy directly, face apoplectic.
“If you don’t listen to me, we’re all going to die!”
“Yes, father, we know. Would you care to be more specific..?”
That shuttered look appeared again, but when Maddy turned to walk away, he shouted, “They’re going to blow up the pier!”
Scott flashed on the divers, and with deep dread in his heart knew Singh was telling the truth.
“Lo, you get that?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, jeez,” Alton said. “The divers.”
Xenofreak Nation, Book Three: XIA Page 21
