by Sarah Porter
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, just to make sure that’s clear. “I still love you and Mom. But I would never do what you asked me to do. You expected me to betray everybody here, and you don’t even know who they are.”
Like Soraya. If she’s my sister, my twin, then she’s also his daughter, in a way. And he might not even know she exists. It feels like too much to explain right now, though.
But maybe he’ll visit. Maybe I’ll be able to forgive him. And once I know I can trust him again, maybe I’ll take him to meet her.
“Ada,” he says. The look in his eyes is brighter now. Hungrier. “Ada, did you see it?”
Is that all he cares about? “I’ve seen it. We’ve—communicated, a little. But I don’t know what it is.”
“No one knows. Not really.” He smiles ruefully. “We don’t know what it wants, or why it chose Long Island as the site for its newest experiments. We can only guess. If you ask me, I’d speculate that it’s the reason for all the sudden jumps in the evolutionary record. I’d say it’s the vital intelligence of Earth itself. The will to life, bubbling over into a sentient being. Imagine what we could do if we could master that!”
He looks around at the frog people, and I know what he sees in them.
Potential. Power. Anyone who can conduct the force that made them could choose the future for our whole planet.
“It wouldn’t let you,” I say. “It does what it wants to do.” I don’t think he believes me, though, any more than Ms. Stuart would. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth, though, before you sent me here? You could have explained. You could have told me you needed a spy in here, and asked me how I felt about that. Instead you put on this huge act.” It’s still sinking in.
Every word he said was a lie. Even when he said, Our daughter is staying with her family, he was just waiting for me to contradict him and insist on coming here instead. He was so sure he could predict every last thing I would do. He was counting on it.
But he was only right about some of it. At first I went along with his script just perfectly, but then I started to slide off into choices he hadn’t imagined.
“Why didn’t I tell you? Because I knew that, unless your initial reactions were completely authentic, you’d give yourself away. You’re such a fundamentally honest person, Ada, dearest. You’re such a terrible liar.”
I’d thought I was done being surprised, but he’s smiling in a way that lets me know he means it.
He reaches out one more time and strokes my cheek, and now I don’t pull away from him. But I don’t go to him, either. I need more time to get past the bitterness before I can treat him like he’s really my dad again. Dr. Jacoway died because of all the lies my dad told. I can’t just ignore that.
Even though he’s crying now. “Ada. You really won’t come with me? I can arrange to keep you unregistered. We can explain to the school that the lab made a mistake and that you’ve been cleared. No one will ever suspect you aren’t entirely human.”
I don’t care anymore who knows what I am. That’s not the point at all. If it’s safe to let me live around humans, if he’s so sure of that, why should any of us stay shut away from the world?
“I won’t leave here,” I say. “Not until all of us can, without anybody trying to hurt us. And not until there’s some kind of justice for Dr. Jacoway! Do you think that’s ever going to happen?”
Rowan lets out a long huff of air, like he’s been holding his breath all this time, and pulls me into a hug. The fur on his shoulder is thick and warm, and soon it’s damp with my tears.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THE KIDS start to drift back now that it’s quiet. They stop in the deepest shadows of the trees, watching cautiously. They stare at the kime army and then at the steel gate, its bars warped and one side halfway ripped from its hinges. Most of them have been locked up in here since they were babies, but now a few of the braver ones start slipping through the gate in pairs, making short exploratory forays up the road. Small feathered hands hold small spiny claws, and their voices float to me in excited whispers.
I should stop holding Rowan. I haven’t forgotten my promise to Soraya, and I know it’s not fair to him, either. But for now I can’t let go. He’s stroking my hair, and my back is trembling. “Ada, it’s going to be okay. I can’t believe you did that, but it’s okay. We’ll figure it all out.”
“I’m afraid this doesn’t change anything, Rowan.” Oh, now that the mob has gone, Ms. Stuart feels like it’s up to her to say what’s changed. Everything has changed. Why isn’t that obvious to her? “Don’t you see? That touching scene we just witnessed was all a masquerade. Theater meant to persuade us that Ada was unjustly accused. But she’s still a spy, and we still have to take steps to prevent her from harming us.”
Rowan squeezes me tighter and glares at her. “That’s crazy.”
The greenish chimeras open their mouths just a little and emit wet hisses. The circle steps in closer, and Ms. Stuart glances at them nervously, like maybe she’s just understood that they’ll follow Rowan’s lead. Not hers.
“Not Aah—ahh,” one says distinctly. I think it’s my friend from before, the one who scooped me up and carried me here. A lot of them look sort of alike to me, but there’s a tiny notch in its upper lip that I remember.
“The letter, Rowan. When Ophelia found it in Ada’s duffle, the envelope was torn open. Ada’s whole pretense that she had no idea what her father expected of her—that was all a lie. She knew perfectly all along.”
I’m so surprised I can’t react at first. I pull away from Rowan, and there’s a trace of doubt in his eyes. It’s faint, but I can still see it.
“I never even unzipped my duffle! I just shoved it into a drawer. I was afraid that there would be something in there—whatever it was—that would be too upsetting.”
I turn to Ms. Stuart. Her upper lip hikes, and her eyes are wounded and cold. She believes what she’s saying. “That isn’t what Ophelia told us, Ada.”
Gabriel’s gotten up behind her, his skin silvery and faintly luminous. His bioluminescence forms a moonlike glaze over his body heat. He’s watching Rowan’s face, his lips pressed tightly together, not saying a word. Just waiting to see how it plays out. And all at once I know what Ophelia was about to confess earlier, when she said she’d done something wrong.
“Where is she?” I’m scanning the field. In the darkness her wings should be easy to spot, like shining gossamer, but I can’t find her anywhere. “I think she might say something different if you ask her again.”
A wave of anxiety passes over Gabriel’s face, and with it a spurt of emerald static. I can tell he’s trying to suppress his colors, but he doesn’t manage it in time. Not before Rowan sees it.
“Of course Ophelia’s going to change her story,” Gabe snarls. He nods at the frog chimeras. “She’ll be scared to death, with your freak squad there threatening her.”
I can’t believe he just said that—the pro-chimera militant himself? “Did you just call them freaks? They’re exactly like us!”
Maybe not exactly, though. They aren’t as human. I think they must be what those tadpole creatures grow up to be. And all at once, I understand something.
“Actually, the blue made them after us,” I say. “We were just the first experiment. A trial run. I bet they’re—more advanced than we are, and they just grow up faster than we do. They can live underwater as well as in the air, for one thing. And that’s why there are so many of the same kind. The blue was happier with how they’d turned out!”
Rowan ignores all of this. “Gabriel? What have you done?”
I can see Gabe falter, just a little bit. One thing I’m sure of: he cares, a lot, how Rowan feels about him. Pale, nervous blue stutters on his skin, but then he gets his attitude together again. “You really believe I did something to your girlfriend there?”
Rowan flinches. “She’s not my girlfriend. And whether she is or not, it’s not okay to press
ure Ophelia to lie about her!”
“Gabriel?” That’s Ms. Stuart. This honestly never occurred to her, I can tell.
“You got Ophelia to say that,” Rowan persists, “so that when you told Ms. Stuart Ada had to die, she’d decide you were right. Like, that there was no other choice. If she was sure Ada was spying, you could persuade her it was too dangerous to keep Ada alive. Gabriel, why? When you attacked her before, Ada said you did it to get me back. To trade her to Soraya for me. I didn’t like it, but at least it made sense!”
Ms. Stuart actually staggers a little in shock, but I don’t much care what she’s going through. Because balanced at the very summit of the treetops to my right, I notice a soft disturbance: something red and fluttering, like poppy petals in the wind. I would have seen it earlier if I’d thought of looking up so far.
“Ophelia’s in the trees,” I say. “Over there.” I point, but in the darkness I don’t know if anyone but me will see her. The clouds are still thick, and there’s no trace of starlight. “And she’s higher up than I think anyone could climb.”
Even after everything that’s happened, I’m so excited for her. How did she get up there if she didn’t truly fly?
Ms. Stuart lets out a long exhalation. There’s so much grief in the sound of it that I start to feel sorry for her after all. “I clearly need her input. She appears to be the only one who can tell me what happened here.” She turns and shouts toward the trees, “Ophelia! Ophelia, can you hear me? We need you.”
The red petal shapes stop moving completely. For a long moment, they hold perfectly still, and even from here, I can tell what it means. Ophelia would give anything to avoid having to talk about what she did.
She’s ashamed. And my breath catches in my throat. I desperately need Ophelia to tell the truth. If she doesn’t, it’s going to be unbearable for me to live here, but that’s not the only reason. It’s for her sake, too.
If Ophelia betrays me again, there’s a part of her that will never recover.
I watch her balancing on the highest tip of the tree. She gives a hesitant wobble and pauses, and the air in my throat feels hard and jagged. I want to believe in her. I want to forget she ever told that lie, but no matter how hard I wish those things, I can’t make this choice for her.
Then she leaps, and the ruby blur of her wings streaks the dark clouds.
She flies down—she really flies!—and stops to hover directly above us. “Ada,” she says. “Ada, you know? They told you?”
“I know,” I tell her. “But I don’t care at all, Ophelia. Not if you tell everyone the truth now.” She still looks uncertain, sort of teetering in midair. “I promise. I’ll never bring it up again.”
She lands on the grass near us. The gust from her wingbeats sends my hair flying.
“I’m the one who opened the letter, Ms. Stuart.” Her voice is very deliberate, and her black eyes sparkle like galaxies. “Gabriel told me we had to—that he was positive Ada was spying, but that we needed stronger evidence. I let him talk me into it, but I knew the whole time it was wrong. And I’m really sorry.”
“You could have gotten Ada murdered!” Rowan snaps. Ms. Stuart has turned bone white, so tense she seems about to shatter.
“I know. I didn’t realize—I mean, I never thought Gabe would do something that horrible. Once I heard him talking to Martin, though, I realized what it all meant. Ada, I tried to warn you!”
She leans away from me like she’s afraid I’ll hit her.
Ms. Stuart’s stare drives at Gabriel, so wounded and accusing he steps back. His arms are wrapped tight around his chest.
“Ada is a spy,” he announces, almost like he thinks he’s the one who’s been treated unfairly. His skin strobes with indignation. “She is dangerous. She’s been prying into everything, watching everything that goes on here! I knew what she was up to. I was totally onto her ever since she started talking about algae that time. I just didn’t have proof.”
“So you fabricated it.” Ms. Stuart’s voice sounds emptied, stunned. “Gabriel, I would do almost anything to advance our cause. But I draw the line at killing an innocent child.”
“She’s not innocent! That’s what I’m telling you. She’s been scheming and sneaking since she got here. Plotting to stop us. And now you’re looking at me like I’m the problem! I was the only one protecting us.”
He looks expectantly from her to Rowan, and Rowan steps close and wraps an arm around me. And after a moment Ophelia comes up on my other side and reaches to take my hand. I hear the crisp rustle of her wing against my shirt, and I give her hand a squeeze.
No matter what she did before, she came through for me when I needed her most. There have been so many times when I’ve doubted her, but maybe, just maybe, I can let go of that now.
“Gabriel, I know you don’t believe it. But nobody here needs protecting from me. Just because I think what you and Ms. Stuart are doing is a huge mistake, that doesn’t mean you need to treat me like I’m the enemy!”
“You’re only staying so you can keep trying to ruin everything!” He sounds desperate, breathless. It’s strange to realize that even if Gabriel has evil in him, he’s genuinely convinced that he’s doing the right thing—and doing it for all the chimeras. There aren’t a lot of people who will fight for the kids here, and he’s trying to be their champion.
It would be so much better if we didn’t have to hate each other. That’s all I can keep thinking, over and over. I’ve made up my mind to stay, and that means I can’t just spit in Gabriel’s face and walk away. I need him to understand.
“That’s not it,” I say. “Rowan knows why I’m staying.”
Rowan tips his head. “I know one reason, anyway. If you mean what I think you mean.”
Ms. Stuart sighs in loud exasperation. It’s almost funny.
Rowan turns back to everyone. “Ada and Soraya have the exact same face. They must be some kind of twins—like, the human genes in Soraya have to be copied from Ada. I didn’t want to say anything. Soraya’s life is hard enough, and until I was sure everyone here could trust Ada—and until Ada trusted us—I didn’t want Soraya getting mixed up in it. But she is. Do you have any idea how lonely Soraya’s been all her life, with nobody she can talk to, ever, except me? Squids are just as weird about Soraya as humans are about us. If Ada left now, I think Soraya would be incredibly hurt.”
Ms. Stuart nods. “Is that the truth, Ada? You don’t want to leave Soraya?”
“That’s part of it,” I say. “The other part is what I told my dad. We should all be free together. We will be free, someday. I know we will, even if it takes a long time. And, Ms. Stuart? There’s a reason your algae die away from Long Island. The blue doesn’t want Chimera Syndrome to spread anywhere else, at least not for now. If you really care about us, you’ll stop trying to make that happen.”
Gabriel snorts. And I think I get it. Their idea might be that if there are millions of chimeras being born all over the country, then people will be forced to accept us. Maybe they want all the children born to be chimeras, so that humanity will have to choose between us and just disappearing completely.
Maybe humans would give in then. Or they might forget about locking us up and just start slaughtering us at birth instead. It’s a dangerous gamble he and Ms. Stuart are taking. Too dangerous. That’s what the blue’s been trying to say. That’s why it’s worried about its children.
Ms. Stuart stares. I think it’s the first time she’s really understood me, and it might be the first time I’ve understood her, too. There’s a long pause. I can see all the contradictory thoughts and impulses churning in her eyes. I’m asking her to give up the biggest dream of her life.
“If your blue will communicate with me, I’m prepared to listen.”
“I’ll tell it you said so,” I say. But actually I don’t have to, because it’s all around us now. It spreads itself wide enough to take in everyone, me and Rowan and Ophelia, the frog chimeras, Ms. S
tuart and the littler kids chasing fireflies by the torn gate. Even Gabriel. We could all be floating together, leaves caught in a storm of blue light: the blue of mallards, of iridescent butterflies, of a skydiver’s spinning gaze.
The blue of beginnings.
I can tell Ms. Stuart feels it caressing her. Wonder lights up her tired brown eyes.
Epilogue
ROWAN’S DARK fur shines amber in the setting sun. He emits a groaning sound with five tongue clicks in the middle. He smiles at the girl with wet sand glazing her brown skin. “So, that’s basically our word for a good possibility—for something we want to happen. You try it.”
A row of pink seashells is balanced on each of Ada’s thighs. She picks up another shell, examines it thoughtfully, and then adds it to her collection. Her first attempt to mimic his utterance comes out so strangely that they both burst out laughing.
“What about the word for a bad possibility? Is that easier?”
“Probably,” Rowan says. His mouth falls, and he fixes his gaze on the waves. “Ada? I think that’s what we’re here for. The chimeras.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean—I’m pretty sure that’s why the blue made us. In case of bad possibilities. Like, if humans hurt the planet too much, or start a nuclear war or something, then maybe enough of us would survive even if normal people couldn’t. We’d be the ones to start over. Could you try asking it sometime if I’m right?”
Ada props herself on one elbow, and black waves cascade over her shoulder. Her skin glows with the falling light. Rowan glances at her and then carefully looks away again before Ada notices his gaze. “That sounds like what Dr. Jacoway said, right before he died. So, you think we’re some kind of backup plan? If things ever get really bad? Like, chimeras are humanity insurance?”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’m almost positive. You know, the blue doesn’t need Chimera Syndrome to spread everywhere just yet. It’s fine with keeping us here—like, as a strategic reserve. It’s experimenting with a bunch of different kinds of part humans, that could maybe survive different problems? It makes total sense. And then we really do have a purpose.”
