Emergent (A Beta Novel) (15 page)

I might be taking the helpful angle too far, or maybe I’m projecting how I’d feel in her situation, but I say, “If you want help to get rid of it, I’m sure we could
figure out a way.” I totally mean it. If she needs my help in this rotten situation, I will give it to her.

“I’m resigned to see this through.” Her tone does not mimic
joy
for the “miracle of life” growing inside her. Her tone, in fact, sounds more
curious
,
along with
resigned
.

I know about
curious
. It’s what landed me on Heathen via Demesne.

Elysia resumes her swim, as do I. “But I appreciate the offer,” she says. “Race you?”

“Butterfly!” I call out.

Did Dr. Lusardi give her steroids along with my face and body?

We could never make a synchronized-swimming pair, because she’s so much faster than me. Her strokes are flawless. Even with a baby inside her, which I’d think would weigh her down
and slow her speed, she easily outpaces me, stroke for stroke. I’m a good swimmer. She’s
great
. I’m grateful Xander advised her not to dive in her condition. I don’t
think I could handle her being so much better than me at that too.

She wins the butterfly heat easily. We take a break, sitting on the shore, letting the lagoon lap sweet water over our feet. Elysia says, “You’d swim faster if you stopped watching
me.”

I know that already. It’s why Dad pushed me into diving instead of race swimming. Some swimmers can look to their competitors in the nearby lanes and use them as leverage to push harder
and faster to win the race. Other swimmers, like me, get slowed down from too closely watching their competitors, costing them crucial speed and distance.

“I was the fastest female swimmer back at the Aquatics Club,” I say defensively.

“I know,” says Elysia. “Alex told me that when you were a child, you were the fastest girl in your district. But then your mother left, and your father said you lost focus, and
he redirected your training exclusively to diving instead of swimming.”

I’m here to learn more about her, not hear regurgitated facts about me. “Where did you dive on Demesne?” I ask her.

“On Demesne there were only cliffs for practicing high dives. I was never invited to practice in the FantaSpheres, where I could have tried diving with proper equipment.”

True, Elysia’s very existence grates deep on my nerves; what grates even more is how she was treated like dirt by the humans on Demesne. This Me is enraged, imagining Other Me as their
toy.

“What was Demesne like?” I ask her. “I was only awake there for a few minutes before Aidan took me away from it. Was it total paradise?” My ambitions are always
Olympic-size, even if my ability to execute isn’t quite on par, and I do aspire to one day be Queen of Demesne if and when Insurrection occurs. I’d like to know more about it from
someone who has, basically, seen it with my own eyes, fuchsia version.

“It’s tranquil and luxurious, as it’s supposed to be. The few teens that lived there were bored all the time. I don’t think they considered it paradise, even with the
beautiful scenery, relaxing oxygenation, and FantaSpheres in their houses.”

“They have FantaSpheres in their houses?”

“Of course. Didn’t you have one?”

“We had one at the Aquatics Club, but that’s only because the Uni-Mil donated it. Most normal people can’t afford one of those things for their personal use. They can buy time
in one at, like, the mall. That’s about it.”

“Do Aquines have FantaSpheres in their homes?” Elysia asks.

“Hardly! Aquines are technologically advanced but refrain from using technology except as necessary. That’s part of their belief system. Simplicity.”

“Perhaps you could tell me more about the background of the Aquines. I have limited information, besides what’s programmed on my chip.”

“Why don’t you just ask Xander?”

“Alex doesn’t like to talk about his background.”

He does to me, I think.

“Do you have ‘Amish’ on your chip?” I ask her. “The sect from pre–Water Wars times when religion was, like, really important, I guess?”

Her eyes blink as her chip accesses the data. “Yes,” she says. “Ancient Christian group of Swiss extraction, who settled in Old America, wore plain dress, and utilized their
land in Old Country ways rather than adopt modern technology. What do they have to do with the Aquines?”

My explanation will be easier because she already has this background information, yet I’m agitated. Her chip is filled with so much useless clutter and nothing that could actually help
her! Her engineering isn’t flawed. It’s
mean
. “The Aquines are like superhuman versions of what Amish people used to be. They are peaceful people who live in cloistered
communities and cut themselves off from the rest of the world as much as possible.”

“Because of a religion?”

“No, more like an ethic.”

“Alex says the humans on Demesne have no ethics.”

“Ethics are a matter of opinion, not fact.”

“I’m going to become an Aquine,” Elysia pronounces.

Does her chip also have a special setting for
profoundly ignorant
? “You can’t become Aquine. You’re born as one.”

“I can mimic,” she says. “I like their value system. I would like the baby to have it. I’ve been meditating at sunset with Alex, reflecting on gratitude and
humility.”

She meditates like an Aquine now? My blood boils.

Every time I try to like or help her, she fails me.

“Maybe you should consider who you should be most loyal to: him, or your First, who made you?”

“Maybe
you
should consider that your loyalty should be to me, and not to him,” she retorts. Something else she got from me. Sass.

Elysia stands up and runs back into the water to resume her swim.

I remain on shore. Sassed.

Elysia swims beneath the water for a long time, zigzagging across the lagoon as schools of colorful reef fish follow her as if they know she’s the power source on this
island now. She’s a regular swordfish down there. After a few minutes, she swims to shore and rejoins me on the sand.

Elysia squeezes the water from the ends of her hair just as I am about to do the same. She says, “I heard music beneath the water! I’m sure of it! How is that possible?”

“Your precious chip doesn’t tell you why?”

“No. Please, won’t you tell me? It was the most beautiful thing I ever heard!”

Immune to her deep wonder, I inform her, “It’s whale music. Whales make sounds to communicate with each other. The sounds can travel across thousands of miles. The music reaches this
spot from the ocean through the tidal streams that feed into this lagoon.”

No. NO! A tear drops from her fuchsia eye and down her pink cheek. “Don’t
cry
!” I scoff. “It’s just whale music.”

“
Just
whale music? How can you not care about something so incredible? I never imagined I could experience such magic.”

“So go back in and listen more.”

“No. I hope I don’t hear it again. I don’t want a reminder of how beautiful life can be.”

“That makes no sense. Why?”

“When I experience moments the humans label as
wondrous
, then I understand the humans’ greed for it. The life I have known so far has been defined by servitude. Then, rape.
Then, murder. I don’t appreciate being teased with beauty when my own dark life will end soon.”

“Why so morose? You’re the youngest Demesne clone alive. You have years before you expire.”

“That’s not true. Soon, I will go Awful, and die.”

Backflip. Say what?

“What do you mean? What’s Awful?” I ask.

“Dr. Lusardi’s intent was to make her Betas
so
Awful that they’d alienate their humans to the point that they couldn’t wait to get rid of us.”

“I don’t understand.” Only I do. My own dad couldn’t wait to send me off to juvenile delinquent camp rather than deal with all the messiness that I and my moods and my
little drug problem caused in his house.

Elysia says, “Dr. Lusardi wanted to mimic ‘empty nest’ effect for human parents letting go of about-to-be-adult-age children. So she programmed her Betas to die off rather than
just move out of their parents’ basements. She didn’t know how to make teen clones that could become adults. The Awfuls programming was built-in protection for
her
, not any
potential human Beta buyers.”

“That’s crazy. It can’t be true. Who told you that?” Elysia’s going to die, so soon? This revelation should feel like good news—but instead it feels like
another chance for me to die. My clone’s barely been alive. There’s still so much she could do or see. She’s carrying a child. And she’s marked for death not just by the
humans on Demesne who will seek revenge on her, but by her own biology? That’s cruelty to an infinite degree.

“The other teen Beta on Demesne. Tahir. He was another Beta clone, created from the dead First of Tahir Fortesquieu.”

Excuse me? Prince Tahir was a
clone
? This information is scandalous, but not so depressing as her last revelation. I’d rather move the conversation in this direction—the one I
intended it to go in all along. Innocently, I ask, “No way. Is he related to Tariq Fortesquieu?”

“Yes. Tariq’s son Tahir died in a surfing accident in the
gigantes
. They secretly had him cloned. Dr. Lusardi didn’t want the job, but she couldn’t refuse them.
She never fully developed her teen cloning technique, which is why we are called Betas. She created the Awfuls so the teens would die off.”

Why was this Dr. Larissa Lusardi so revered? She was a monster, as far as I can tell. She created her Betas so they’d be forever teens, exactly as she predicted for science’s reach:
that clones could not transition from teens to adults. But what Dr. Lusardi meant was
she
didn’t have the capability to give her clones that ability. So she made it a self-fulfilling
prophecy.

“This Beta Tahir who told you this information…was he your friend?”

“Yes. He was the only being on the entire island who understood what it felt like to be a Beta. Supposedly empty, but not. Treated like a child, but not.”

“Sounds like you cared for him a lot.”

“He was the most beautiful creature I ever saw. Quiet, but charismatic, when he chose to be. He could be insolent, and then amazingly sweet and kind. He was endlessly fascinating to me.
Tahir is the reason I cry at things like whale music; I want so much to share any rare, beautiful moment with
him
.”

“So where is he?”

“His parents took him away, back to Biome City, to retrain him to become more like his First. Just when Tahir was starting to realize who he was on his own. Just when we had vowed to try
to escape Demesne, together.” She pauses, and then softly adds, “I loved him.”

So why did she have to steal Xander, then? Why did she have to be so greedy?

But I already know the answer. She hooked up with Xander to mend her broken heart—and because he was her best chance at survival.

I know, because I would have done the same.

“Is Tahir still in Biome City?” I ask her.

Elysia shakes her head. “For all I know, he’s gone Awful by now, and died. Like I will, soon enough.” She sighs. “I would have liked to see the real world
first.”

It’s hardly comforting news, but I feel compelled to tell her, “If it means anything to you, you should know that what you think you’re missing isn’t a party. The real
world out there’s not that great. It’s desolate. Tarnished. Full of suffering.”

“Just like here,” Elysia pronounces. She takes a deep breath, then pats her stomach, just as I feel my own hunger gnawing at my stomach. “I have a more urgent concern. All this
swimming and talking, and now I’m starving.” Lunchtime. Of course. Our identical hunger clocks.

We both swim toward the rope. Elysia is about to make the climb up when I tell her, “If you’re going to die, you should at least have some fun first.” I realize that I’m
not totally faking the sincerity in my voice. My heart feels it a little bit while my mind feels betrayed, as though it’s saying,
Don’t go weak on me now, heart. We’ve been
through too much.

“There is fun here?” Elysia asks, her tone set to
surprised
.

“Meet me in the Mosh Cave tonight. You’ll see.”

I HAVE TO GIVE IT
to the emergents. They know how to party.

Sweaty, fired-up clones, exhausted from toiling long days working and training, wreak havoc on designated play nights once, sometimes twice, a week. They call the venue for their havoc the Mosh
Cave. It’s a limestone cavern at the far end of the Rave Caves. The underground hangout comes to life usually around midnight. Funnels of tornado lights sweep up the cave’s walls in
flashes of yellows and reds. The music is
loud
. It throbs and burns, while the moshers do the same. The Mosh Cave is Heathen’s best antidote to island fever.

I climb down toward the cave entrance and hear the loud music thumping from behind the granite wall. Standing in the darkness at the precipice of the cave entrance, I see Xander and Elysia just
outside the Mosh door, arguing.