“We’ll check on Mateo and Emerson first, then head back.” I pat Johnny’s shoulder. “Get some rest.”
“You, too.” He salutes me with a wink.
“We’ll go for a stroll to give you some privacy,” Diego says, and takes Star by the arm. “We’ll come back in a bit.”
“Appreciate it.” Johnny yawns, stretching out his limbs.
“Oh, and hey . . .” I stop, turn back toward him.
He peers up at me from his cot.
“Cheyenne was right.”
At first, he stares off at nothing, lost in his thoughts. Then he’s grinning, misty-eyed. “She sure was.”
“If she hadn’t sacrificed herself, that thing would’ve swallowed you both—”
“And I wouldn’t have been there for Smudge. I’ll be damned.”
I pat his shoulder. “Maybe the Universe does have a plan.”
“It appears that way, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
And now I understand why she was at peace.
I wave to the three doctors. “Thanks again, for everything.”
“Of course,” says Dr. Thatcher. “And we’ll see you all tomorrow for your FHTs.”
With that, Zee and I, followed by Star and Diego, exit the small room.
“Emerson is in number six,” Diego says, “and Mateo’s in four.”
“Got it, thank you,” I say. “Enjoy your stroll.”
“We’ll show you around tomorrow and introduce you to Seraphim,” says Star.
“Sounds great.” At his name, my stomach flip-flops, though. I’m both excited and nervous to meet the man who my father’s secrets were revealed to—at least a few of them.
They wave back and exit into the corridor, while Zee and I continue on until we get to room number four. Through the door’s rectangular glass, I find Mateo wrapped up in a big, white bandage, asleep. The nurse we spoke to earlier adjusts the machines by his bed. She sees us and comes to the door, opens it a crack. “He’s all fixed up, but the pain killers made him sleepy. I think he needed the rest.”
“He did,” I say. “When he wakes up, could you tell him we’ll be back? Our sleep schedules are messed up, though, so . . . I’m not sure when that will be. Could be the middle of the night.”
“Yes, I sure will.”
“Thanks.”
She lets the door close, and Zee and I move on to room number six. But when we peer through the glass, we find it empty.
“I took your other friend back to the sleeping quarters already,” says the nurse, having peeked back out into the hallway.
“How is he?”
“Fine. With the Full Health Treatment, they both should be as good as new in a few days.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. You two get some sleep, you look exhausted.”
“Will do,” Zee says. “Have a great night.”
“Thank you.”
Zee and I exit the room and stroll down the long, dim, gray corridor.
“You don’t sleep, do you?” I ask.
“No, but I enjoy keeping some of my own secrets.” She winks. “It’s easy to do since both my appearance has changed and my serial number is gone.”
“Speaking of secrets—why did you repeat my thoughts back there, when I was talking about secrets being revealed? How many of my thoughts can you read? You told me you could only hear what I wanted you to, but I don’t believe that.”
“That’s not important.” Zee waves a dismissive hand. “And I . . . liked the way it sounded, so I repeated it.”
“Okay . . . but . . . yeah, it is kind of important—”
“I can disconnect it, if you want. But I assure you, Joy, I have not a single judgment in my heart against you. You’re pure of heart, strong of spirit, and sound of mind . . .Which is why Lord Daumier wanted to make you his, to control you. You’re flawed, of course, but aren’t we all?”
“That’s the reason? That seems silly. There are plenty of good people out there, I realize that now.”
“Well, yes . . . you’re right. But he’s also after your bloodline: Zephyr the Magnificent.” In her words, a thousand secrets wait to be revealed.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You know so much about me, but there’s so much I don’t know about you.”
“There is much to learn about me . . . in time. Right now, though, you need rest.”
This, I can’t argue with.
When we return to the shared room where everyone’s sleeping, Baby Lou’s in the same position I placed her, with Serna fast asleep in another cot beside her. I squeeze into the warm cot with Baby Lou, run my fingers through her curls, and I can’t wait to bathe her, to get her all nice and clean tomorrow. Then we can go explore this wonderful place. I close my eyes and lie there for a few minutes, relaxing, but my mind won’t shut off. I glance over at Zee. Her gaze is trained on my daddy’s magic bag in the corner.
“Curious?” I whisper, startling her.
“Oh . . . a little, I suppose.”
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the cot. “Well, I want to dig through it, too, and I can’t sleep anyway. We can go through it together.” And I tiptoe to the corner, grab the familiar, worn handles, then sit on the edge of Zee’s cot. She straightens next to me, obviously nervous, though I’m not sure why.
“Where’d you find my boots?” I ask.
“In the lab beneath the Monastery, where I went to collect items and information needed for creating the OAI program for the revolt. The operating room for most of Alzanei is down there, along with a secret Soul Room where Lord Daumier keeps . . . special cases. There, a lot of tests are run on new prototypes and—” She stops, bows her head. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
“It’s okay.” I giggle. “So . . . why were my boots down there?”
“They took you down there for the initial MemTap. And that’s where they changed your clothes and . . . Lord Daumier had his first . . . session with you. The boots were in the corner of the room.”
“His first . . . session?”
“Do you want me to tell—?”
“No. I know enough.”
“I agree.”
“How did you know the boots were mine?”
“You were wearing them when you first arrived. That’s when I recognized you, and I volunteered.”
“I’m so grateful you did. I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t.”
Upon opening the bag, I inhale the stale familiarity of its contents. Home. That’s what those smells mean to me. I’m home now. I remove the branch of Dahli, Aby’s scarf and her mother’s dress, my parent’s clothes, and I set them aside. I remove the three rings strung along a chain, and slide my parents’ plain gold bands onto my ring finger. “These two were my parents’,” I say. My daddy’s is loose, but my mother’s fits perfectly. If we stay here for a while, I might start wearing it. “And this one, a friend from Zentao gave me.” I show her Mr. Tanner’s wife’s scuffed gold ring, now noticing the scratches most likely from the rock crevice where it was hidden.
“May I?” Zee asks.
“Sure.” I take the rings off and hand them to her. A sadness sits within her soft gaze as she traces each band with her fingertips.
“And these”—I take out my daddy’s work gloves, set them down between Zee and myself on the cot—“my father wore for years at the Tree Factory. I wore them, too, for a while.”
Zee examines the gloves, nodding in recognition.
“Did you ever see him wearing them? Your donor, I mean.”
“Yes.”
Deeper in the bag, amid various magic trick stuff, something is unearthed that makes my heart swell. Millie. I take her out, along with my daddy’s lucky deck of cards with the missing Ace of Spades, and hug them both. Th
at I still have these precious items after everything I’ve been through is astonishing and unbelievable.
“Thank you,” I say, “for helping me get my stuff back. You have no idea how much this means to me.” And I look up to find her sobbing softly into her palms. “Why are you crying?”
She reaches with a shaky hand.
“Do you want to see her?” I hold Millie out to her.
“May I?” She collects Millie into her hands, inspects every inch of the hand-sewn animal.
“My mother made her.”
“I know.”
“Your donor saw it?”
“Yes.” Trembling, she places Millie back into my hands, drawing in deep breaths to stave off her tears, while I lay the animal where she belongs, next to my Baby Lou. I pick up the deck of cards. “And this is my daddy’s lucky—”
“I know what it is.” She clamps her eyelids shut against a pain too great to bear.
Something inside me awakens, though I can’t quite place what it is. Why would she be so upset over these items? “How do you know? Please, tell me.”
Zee reaches into her camisole beneath her shirt and, after a second’s hesitation, swipes tears from her cheeks and hands me something. An Ace of Spades. The Ace of Spades from my daddy’s lucky deck, the card that’s been missing ever since I can remember. My body goes numb while thoughts spin around each other in a whirlwind of confusion.
“Why . . . why do you have this? Where did you get it?”
“Seraphim. He gave it to me last night. For good luck. He was given it as a gift a long time ago.”
“Why would he give it to you?”
“He said . . . if anyone needed the spirit of Zephyr the Magnificent today . . . it was me.”
The pain harbored in her face triggers a sudden realization. I gasp. “Zee, your donor . . . was she—?”
She smiles through her tears.
“My mother . . .”
We fall into one another in a sobbing heap, and hold each other tight. Everything makes sense now, and I chuckle through my sobs. “I get it. Z for—”
“Zephyr.”
We sway in each other’s arms, and cry some more, amazed and joyful. I push back to see her face—the face of the girl who carries my mother’s soul, the one who still looks so much like my once-dearest friend, my sister, Aby. I kiss her cheek, squeeze her again, in absolute awe of the miraculous, magical inner-workings of the Universe.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want to tell you until the time was right.”
“That’s okay. I’ve heard that one before.”
“Oh?”
“Smudge had her own secrets she revealed when we got to Zentao. Her donor was—” I stop, awkward with what I’m about to say. “Well, she was my daddy’s lover, after my mother died.”
Zee chuckles. “Wow. How ironic.”
“Is that weird for you?”
“No. I understand. And so would Aura, I think. Your mother was a great woman, and she loved you both very much. She’d want nothing more than for the two of you to be happy.”
“So that’s why you recognized me when I came, and why you volunteered.”
“Yes. And that’s when I made my decision.”
“Decision?”
“To face my fears. To fight them. And to be free. And to help you do the same. Everything happened exactly as it should have. If I hadn’t been afraid, I would’ve left, then I wouldn’t have been there for you. I may have never found you. I’ve learned . . . fear does sometimes have its place in the grand scheme of things. If we let it, the Universe can make right from wrong, light from darkness, life from death.”
“I agree. I’ve seen the same thing over the past few weeks since we . . . since the explosion.”
“You have overcome so much.”
“And we aren’t finished yet,” I say.
“Are we ever? Together, we can do so much. I hope to make up for the time stolen from you and your mother. It’s not the same, but—”
“It’s incredible. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for more. Well . . . not much more, anyway.”
“We will get them back, I promise you. Tomorrow, Star, Diego, and I will take you to meet Seraphim, and together, we’ll plan our attack. We don’t have much time. Lord Daumier’s scientists will soon perfect the prototype for mind fusion, and . . . we should strike before that happens.”
“Mind fusion?”
“Before, when a donor mind map was imprinted into a yet-to-be-developed brain, the Nirvonic System allowed two minds to coexist in the same brain, because one of them—the donor’s mind—was only responsible for rudimentary tasks. Sort of like a background operating system for a computer. This is why the adjustment period can be so difficult for OAIs who have been awakened; the protective wall between the two minds is removed, allowing both the same amount of freedom and control—to an extent. Some cannot take it at first, but after a while, we all adjust, almost like two individuals sharing the same body. This adjustment eventually comes easier because the two minds were aware of each other from pre-infancy.” Zee takes a deep breath, clasps her hands in her lap, and stares at them for a moment before continuing.
“Now, imagine a full-grown human whose mind has already formed, with the grooves in the brain already set from years and years of learning and developing. Then, imagine imprinting a donor mind onto this already-formed brain. This is mind fusion. Lord Daumier wishes to fuse his mind with . . . a donor mind.”
“Why hasn’t he already?”
“During trial periods, the process has caused many deaths; it is too much for the mind when imprinted all at once. So they’ve discovered it works better if done incrementally.”
“But why would he want to do that? Why would he even care?”
Zee looks away.
“What?”
She turns back, but avoids my stare. “There is . . . one specific mind—a very special mind—he wishes to fuse with his own.”
“Whose?”
“To harness the mighty powers of magic . . . to tap into the secrets that could help find the other two Seeker’s Keys . . . he wishes to become Zephyr the Magnificent.”
“Absolutely not! We can’t let that happen.”
“That’s why I said ‘attack.’ And for more reasons than that. The fall of Alzanei has already been abuzz in the Refuge for months. The longer we AOAIs remain awakened, the more human-like, human-thinking, human-feeling we become, and the more we see how wrong all of this is. Of course, we can’t undo what has already been done. But we can fight for a better future for man—and machine—kind.”
We sit in silence, contemplating it all, and my mind spins a web through my past until it stops on my mother. I flash Zee a half-smile, and she returns it.
“There’s something else I want to share with you, Joy, but I want you to be prepared before I do it. I don’t want to scare you.”
At her words, my heart beats faster. “Okay . . . ?”
“You know how I can control your body, your speech?”
“Y-yes?”
“I can control all of your senses, make you smell, feel, and . . . see things. I haven’t done it yet. I almost did when you were with Lord Daumier, but . . . I didn’t want to risk it. Your fear was important to keep you alive then. It could’ve . . . never mind . . .”
“What are you saying? You can alter my vision?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The how is too complicated to explain. Nor is it important.”
“What sorts of things can you make me see?”
“Well . . . let me show you.”
She takes my hand while my heart pounds, and her face fades, a blur into the shadows. In her place emerges a face I’ve tried so hard to remember my whole childhood. With long, brown hair and thin lips, th
at perfect mole atop the right corner. Hazel eyes, long lashes, and high cheekbones . . . She smiles, tossing a wave of dark brown hair over her shoulder.
“Momma?”
She opens her arms, and I dive into them.
“I love you so much, Joy.” My mother’s voice—a divine ignition of love and life, which melts down into my heart. The warmth burns away the icy agony of her loss, the darkness she left behind, the memory of a thousand miseries. All of it’s gone now, safe in her arms, a place I never thought I would be again. Yet, here I am.
My life has been a tragedy, but so sweet, with magic all around us. It’s happening every moment. I’ve lost so much, but what I’ve gained is more. How could we not trust that, in the end, everything will turn out all right? Our lives are nothing short of miracles. We’ve made it this far, and we’ll make it even further.
“I’m so sorry”—I weep in her arms—“I’ve been mad at you for so long . . . I’ve thought horrible, awful things about you. But I think I was just so . . . angry at you . . . for . . . for leaving me, even though it wasn’t your fault—”
“Shh . . .” She pats my back, then brushes my hair away from my eyes. “It’s okay. I understand. And I forgive you. I’m so proud of you, Joy. Always have been, always will be. And you know what?”
I peer up into my mother’s eyes.
“I was wrong. There is a happy ending after all . . . and it’s just another beginning, like your father always said. He was right about so much . . .”
With her words, I reach into his bag, retrieving the scrap metal bracelet I made for her so many years ago. I slide it onto her wrist, a perfect fit. “Where it belongs,” I say.
Then she sings that song my heart and soul remember so well, and hums the part she always forgets. “Someday I’ll learn the rest of the words,” she whispers.
And I fall asleep.
“Ma-ma?”
I awaken to my Baby Lou snuggled against my chest with Millie. “Hello, Baby.” I yawn, then sit up with a gasp, remembering the face and embrace of my mother. I find Zee gazing up from the floor beside us, bracelet still around her wrist. I smile wide, but it turns into another yawn.
“It’s not quite morning yet.” She has her own toothy grin.
The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 29
