Holding hands, we fly along the gravel pathway toward the park. A smell comes from her, sweaty, like she hasn’t washed, and I can’t believe I am doing this. My feet are bare and the tiny stones cut into my soles as we run, but the sharp sting only excites me further. For five more minutes we run, until Candice stops breathless at the gated entrance of a wide field. Fake livestock grazes on the grass at its center. Great big beasts. Hundreds of them, pale in the moonlight, with irregular black blotches on their hairy hides. Some of them have horns.
“Cows,” I say. I have seen them in picture books but never actually seen one properly. I imagine my mother was planning to show me these soon, along with everything else she programmed the environment to manufacture.
“Cows, yes, but look over there.” She points toward a separate herd to the right, and these are not listlessly chewing on the grass like the others. They look spooked.
“What’s up with them?”
“I’ll show you.” She takes my hand and leads me on.
“Candice, I should really go back. My mother—”
“Oh, forget your stupid mother. Look!”
A wicked grin twists her face, and as we get closer I can see a cow lying in the grass, a shiny patch on the ground ebbing from its stomach. Blood! The cow is moaning, and I can see its side move slowly up and down as it struggles to breathe.
“What happened to it?” I ask.
“No idea.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Do you feel anything?”
“What?”
“Do you feel anything, Salomi? Simple enough question, isn’t it?”
I gaze at the suffering beast. I do feel something. Of course I feel something. It’s terrible to see something struggling to keep hold of its life.
“No, nothing,” I tell her. “I know I should feel something, but I don’t.”
She shakes her head with the same look of wonder she had when I stooped over her beneath the tower.
“Is this why you brought me here? Just to see if I’d get upset?”
“Well, yes, I guess, but someone needs to put it out of its misery.” She looks at me expectantly, hands on hips. “And who better than you? You don’t feel a thing, right? And there’s no way I’m doing it.”
“But shouldn’t we call an adult? I mean, what did this to it?”
The cow bays loudly, mournfully.
“How the hell should I know what did it? And I am an adult. I’m seventeen. Well, nearly. The point is, someone needs to end its suffering.” She has a glint in her eye, and I realize there and then just how twisted my friend is, but still, I’m grinning too, looking back and forth between her and the cow. I want to get away from here, from her. I want to go back home, pack my things, and get away from this place as quickly as I can.
“What do I do?” I ask. “It’s enormous. I couldn’t—”
“Here.” Candice fishes something from her tracker bottom pocket and hands it to me. “Slit its throat. That should put it out of its misery pretty quickly, don’t you think?”
I take the object from her. It’s a sheathed knife.
“Go on,” she says and shoves me.
A thrill bubbles through me, a shiver of anticipation as I unsheathe the shining blade and look down at the cow. No! I can’t do this. But I am doing it. I kneel down in the grass beside the cow’s head and—
“Shit! Look!” Candice grabs my shoulder. “What the hell is that?”
I look up to where she’s pointing.
There’s something in the sky. Something huge and squirming, black and amorphous and undulating, hovering above the treetops.
“Wait! I know what that is, but it’s the first time I’ve ever seen it,” Candice says.
I am instantly captivated, my attention on the suffering animal evaporating. “So what is it?”
“It’s a murmuration. Starlings. But it shouldn’t be here at night. That’s so weird.”
“A murmuration?”
“Yeah. It’s supposed to happen at dusk. At least it used to on Earth. It’s something birds do before they settle down. They sort of flock together in all these weird patterns. Just like that.”
“What about the cow?”
“Forget the cow.” She keeps her gaze pointed at the sky. “Look at it. It’s brilliant, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” And it is brilliant, but my mind is in turmoil. I don’t understand what is happening or what I’m even doing out here. It’s cold and I don’t care. My feet are bleeding from the run along the gravel. There’s a dying animal I’m about to kill, and now Candice is showing me this thing called a murmuration that shouldn’t even be here.
“Salomi!”
The cry comes from my mother, and I turn to see her rushing toward me across the field. Father is with her.
“Salomi, what are you doing out here?”
Candice turns too. “Shit! Time to go. Sorry, Salomi.”
She blows me a kiss, winks, and runs toward a gate on the opposite side of the field at full sprint, leaving me alone to face my parents.
My mother scoops me up and hugs me tightly, distraught. “Thank goodness you didn’t turn off your locator patch.” She kisses my cheek hard. “What are you doing here? Who was that? Was that Candice?” Then she sees the knife in my hand. “Oh God! What have you done?”
“Did you do this, Salomi?” Father is standing over the cow, stunned.
“No, it was already—”
“Ravian, look! What is that?” Mother still clutches at me, but her attention is now on the starlings snaking and swooping above the trees like an inky cloud.
“It’s a murmuration, Mother,” I tell her. “Candice said they’re starlings. Aren’t they beautiful?”
She looks at me horrified, then down at the cow, not comprehending, and I know exactly how she feels. “Ravian? What’s going on?”
Father looks up at the cloud and brings a hand slowly to his mouth.
“What?” Mother says. “What is it?”
The revelation dawns on me. Mother does not know what a murmuration is, and if she does not know what it is, she could not have programmed it into the environment.
“We need to get back to the house, Elba. Now,” he says calmly, though I can feel the urgency in his voice. “It is a murmuration, but they aren’t starlings. We have to go, right now, or they’ll come for us.”
Mother holds me so tightly now I can hardly breathe. “I don’t understand. What are they?”
Father doesn’t say another word. He takes Mother by the shoulder and hurries us away, pulling us back to the field entrance, watching the murmuration as he stumbles on.
SIX
Panic ensues when we reach the house. Father frantically grabs items and thrusts them into a case. Mother fires questions at him as she does the same, and I stand in the middle of it all, hopping up and down with glee.
“Ravian, please, tell me what’s happening. What was that out there?”
Father stops suddenly and glances at Mother, revelation hitting him. “Oh, God! That was Candice,” he says. “Ezra must be in trouble. He would never let her out of his sight. She’s a grade C sociopath needing constant care. Completely unstable.”
Mother makes an effort to calm herself by taking a breath and lowering her voice. “We can worry about Candice and Ezra later. Now take a moment, please, and tell me what’s going on. Perhaps I can help.”
“Candice is a what?” I ask.
Mother gives me a look. “Salomi, please go to your room and continue packing. And don’t leave again.”
I don’t want to go to my room. I want to know what is happening, so I take a step toward the stairs, but I wait there.
Father bites his lip, and his eyes flick from left to right as he thinks.
Mother grabs his arm. “Ravian! Talk to me.”
“A minute,” Father says, putting a finger to his temple. “Control, connect me to the residence of Ezra Fabrine, quickly.”
He paces up
and down the room, waiting while my mother watches.
“There’s no answer,” he says. “He isn’t there. Shyma must be gone, too.”
Mother gazes intently at him, letting him know she won’t do another thing until he explains everything. I can see he is exasperated, but he sighs quickly and then nods. “Very well, I’ll explain, but can we do it on the way? We cannot stay here. I need both of you to get what you need, and we need to leave.”
Mother doesn’t move. “I’m not doing another thing until I know everything. You seem to be forgetting that I’m the one who spent months designing this entire habitat. I can help.”
Father holds out his hands. “All right, damn it. They were nanodrones. The murmuration is a nanodrone cloud, and I think they’ve been configured remotely by the investigators to”—he blinks hard—“remove us. It seems they either saw through my database hacks, or one of our team broke. Either way, it’s certain now. They’ve found out we’re here. I was hoping they wouldn’t think of reaching us this way, but I knew it was a possibility, and that’s why I was in such a hurry for us to leave. Even so, I thought we would have more time.”
“They can reconfigure our nanodrones from the lab?”
Father nods grimly.
“But that means . . .” Mother’s eyes settle on me. She studies me for several long seconds, then says quietly, “I won’t tell you again, Salomi. Go to your room and pack your things.”
I leave the room, but I have no interest in packing. Instead, I sit on the stairs again, making sure that I cannot be seen this time. It is difficult to hear them talking, but I hear enough. Mother is worried that the investigators might also reprogram the nanodrones in my bloodstream and somehow activate them without the Sartixil, but she is trying to convince Father that she can override them.
The minutes pass as the sound of packing lessens and their talking turns from discussion into heated argument. I want to go to them. Not because I want to stop them fighting but because the happy part of me is growing excited by the energy in their voices. I am about to burst back into the room when a loud knock sounds on the front door and my parents go suddenly silent. I push the door open and see their fearful expressions. They continue to stare at each other for a few moments longer, and then Father sees me and holds out a hand to indicate that none of us should move or speak. The banging comes again, more frantic this time, followed by a voice.
“Ravian! Elba! Open the door. It’s me, Ezra.”
SEVEN
Ezra Fabrine is a peculiar-looking man. Short and stocky, quite old. It looks like gravity has been a constant enemy for him, dragging the wrinkled folds of his face downward so that he looks like an aged hound. Today he looks more haggard than ever. His clothes are tattered, and his eyes are ringed with red; he probably hasn’t slept for days.
His voice is deep and gravelly. “I am so glad you’re all still alive,” he says, looking at each of us in turn, but focusing mainly on my father and his bloodstains.
“The nanodrones?” my father says, guiding him to the couch.
“The nanodrones,” he confirms. “Someone has remote programmed them.”
“Where is Shyma?” Mother asks. “Is she all right?”
Ezra breathes heavily, unable to answer as he leans forward in his seat to rub his face. He looks up, shakes his head slowly.
“Oh, God!” Father says. “She’s . . . ?”
“I couldn’t stop them in time,” Ezra says. “I tried to use an electromagnetic pulse, but they were shielded. I couldn’t . . . and she . . .”
Father places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And Candice?”
“I have no idea where she is. She got out of the house two days ago when we first found out the nanodrones had been tampered with. We were distracted, trying to break the code. She’s switched off her locator patch, so I don’t even know where to start looking. I’m so worried about her.”
“We’ve seen her,” Mother says. “I don’t know if she’s still safe, but—”
“Where? Where did you see her?” Ezra looks up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“She was with Salomi not two hours ago, but we have no idea where she is now. I assumed she went back home.”
“Unlikely. She hates us . . . Always has.” The last two words were breathed out, rather than spoken. “I think she might have found out about . . .”
Ezra shoots a furtive glance at Mother, then looks at his feet. Father squints at him, then at Mother, and there is an awkward moment of silence as she avoids his inquiring stare. But then Ezra sits up straight. “But that doesn’t matter now. We have the other children to think about, and I need your help.”
“It’s not my help you need,” Father says. “Elba is far better with coding than I, and she knows everything about the nanodrones.”
“I assume you need a portable field manipulator,” Mother says, “and the latest drone schematics. I have them in the study.” She heads for the back door.
“Are we still going away, Father?” I ask.
“We don’t have a choice,” he says. “But first it seems we have to deal with the drones. I doubt they will allow us to leave.” He turns to Ezra. “Do you know what they’ve been programmed to do?”
“Not exactly, but I can guess. They have killed four people so far, and they were all technicians at the power plant. Colleen was the last person they reached. She was out in the fields, checking the cows.”
“You think they’re targeting the Absorption Tower,” Father says, shocked.
“I’m sure of it. I doubt the children here are anything more than protocol violations to the government now, and they’ll . . .” Ezra glances nervously at me, and something like pity shadows his features.
“We can’t let them succeed,” Father says.
“It won’t be easy,” Ezra says. “We have to get to the tower first.”
“Agreed.” Father nods, then licks his lips as he studies Ezra. “A minute ago, you were about to tell us that Candice had found something out, but you held back. Is there something I should know?”
Ezra won’t meet Father’s gaze. “It’s . . . not for me to say.”
Mother comes back into the room carrying a big silver box by its handle. A tablet is tucked under the other arm. “We can deactivate the drones from here,” she says. “I can generate a cascading algorithm and broadcast it in a broad-spectrum transmission.”
“No. We need to go to the tower,” Ezra insists. “The drones’ shielding is too strong. I don’t know how the government did it, but it’s a powerful enough dampening field to block any transmission from a portable device. The only way we can get a signal strong enough to take them out is—”
“By boosting it through the tower’s power distributors,” Mother says.
There is a lot more talk between them about algorithms and coding and electro-thingy-pulses. Things that sound exciting, but things I don’t understand. Ezra says he thinks it will all end if they can do everything, though.
“End this?” Mother says. “I doubt that. It’ll just force the government to come here directly.”
“That was going to happen sooner or later,” Father says. “But at least we will buy some time to prepare for when they come. If we don’t stop the nanodrones tonight, they’ll wipe out everything in the eco-bubble.”
“What if we run into the nanodrones en route?” Mother asks.
“I doubt that will happen,” Ezra says. “I imagine they are on their way to the tower right now. They probably think they’ve done enough already to subdue any threat to them. But what choice do we have? We have to get there first.”
“Then there is no more time to waste. Salomi,” Mother says, crouching down to meet my gaze. “Stay here. Continue to pack. And don’t leave the house until we return. If you hear any noise outside, or if anyone comes to the door, hide. Do you understand?”
“Can’t I come with you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“But—”
“No!” With that, she stands and nods to Father and Ezra. “Let’s get this over with.”
EIGHT
Less than two minutes have passed since they left when I hear a window smash in my bedroom. My instinct is to investigate, but Mother’s instructions were clear, so instead, I head quickly into my parents’ room and duck into their wardrobe, using my fingernails to pull the door closed by a tiny screw that fastens the handle on the inside. It’s awkward. It keeps slipping from my grasp so that the door creaks open an inch, but after the fourth attempt, I manage to hold it in place.
It’s dark in here, but soft with Mother’s clothes, and the scents of jasmine and honey make me not want to hold my breath. The sound of splintering wood from my bedroom tells me I should stay as still as possible, but I know that whoever it is will probably find me soon. There is a scuffling noise and the grunt of someone struggling to get in, then the thud of feet landing on the floor. The screw slips from my fingers again, and the door creaks open. Worse still, the heel of a shoe slides into the gap and I can’t close the door. I nudge it with my big toe. It’s just enough, and again, I pull the door toward me. Whoever is in the house has stopped, and I wonder if they are listening. There is a foreign part of me that is unreasonably terrified, and a familiar part of me that thinks of this as a wonderful game of hide-and-seek. I am glad it’s the latter that has control; otherwise my hands would be shaking and there would be no chance at all of holding the door closed.
But then a flicker of doubt infects my thoughts as I feel something new. Nausea. Dizziness. A side effect of the Sartixil? Then there is drowsiness, and my fingers weaken. I make one last attempt at keeping the door shut, but already I know it is too late. My knees are buckling and I’m going to collapse.
NINE
It’s the strangest sensation. I stretch out my hand to break my fall, but it does not move and I flinch involuntarily, preparing for the hard slap of floorboards against my cheek. But it does not come. Something hard and metallic encloses my right wrist. It is still dark, and the smell of scented clothing is replaced by an acrid odor that makes me think of electricity and sweaty flesh. Whoever broke into the house must have cut the power, and they must be close. I try to move my hand again but it is held fast, and so is the other. Even my ankles are fastened. Not only that, but I feel completely different—more powerful, heavier, bigger—and I wonder what sort of cruel trick my mind is playing on me, at the brink of collapse with an intruder nearby. But stranger still, I feel more awake and alive than I ever have.
The Soul Continuum Page 4
