Evolution (24 page)

“The proper term for their species is
vul
,” I say. “Dr. Troy, the scientist I met today, told me the vul we have in captivity is called the Tessar. The vul worship him and believe he's a creator of life in the universe, basically their savior. Whether or not he's actually a deity, Dr. Troy has observed the Tessar do some extraordinary things. For example, he can help plants grow by touching them. It's something to do with nerve connections … Dr. Troy's description was complicated. The point is: We have reason to believe the Tessar is powerful. That's why the Developers refuse to even consider turning him back over to the vul in exchange for a peace treaty. They're afraid of him, and afraid of how much more damage the vul could do to us if they had his help again.”

Logan is quiet, drinking in this new information. A short strand of his hair falls onto his forehead, and I have the urge to reach out and brush it out of his face. I used to do it without thinking, back in the days before I was picked for Extraction, when neither of us kept secrets from each other. Now, I'm afraid the simple gesture would make it too hard for me to keep my emotions in check.

“So the Mardenite army came here because they want to rescue this … Tessar?” he asks.

“That's the problem.” The rock in my throat makes my voice sound a bit hoarse. “I still don't know. Dr. Troy told me the vul army believes the Tessar was executed centuries ago.”

“If he's telling the truth, that would mean the army came here for revenge,” Logan says.

“It would seem so,” is all I manage to say. I don't want him to believe the vul are vicious warriors who came here to destroy us, but I don't know how to explain the real reason they came without giving everything away.

“Did you find out anything about weaknesses they might have?”

I shake my head. “Not anything substantial. I know the Developers have weakened the Tessar by starving him, but he's only one vul. That won't help us defeat the army. I wanted to speak with the Tessar himself and try to learn something more that could help us … but he could hardly communicate. And I was worried pressing Dr. Troy for more information would make him suspicious.”

“So, pretty much, we're right back where we started, with no clue how to rescue the prisoners,” Logan says.

“Yes,” I say in a heavy voice.

I've told Dean to tell him the truth about everything after I'm gone, but Logan's still going to hate me. What if he never forgives me for this? What if Commander Charlie executes him after I'm gone?

My eyes start watering, and nothing I do can stop them. Luckily, Logan seems to mistake my tears for worry that we're not going to be able to rescue our friends. He puts his arms around me and pulls me closer to him on the couch. “We'll figure something out, okay? We still have time.”

No, we don't.

“Okay,” I say, clutching the bottom of his shirt with my hands. Wishing I could believe him.

“Maybe we should head to bed, so we can get some rest and get an early start tomorrow.”

I take a deep, shaky breath, still trying to calm down. “Yeah. Good idea,” I say, mostly because I need to be in the flight port within the next two hours. The sooner he falls asleep, the better. Though a big part of me also wants to keep him awake as long as possible.

Logan heads into the bathroom to change. I find a knapsack in the closet and put the food I'd stuffed into my pockets in the cafeteria inside it.

The coin Logan gave me after he won second place in the pod race earlier falls out of my pocket, and I pause, picking it up. I'd forgotten about it. I decide to take it with me to remind me of the person I'm fighting for. I stick it in the pocket of the pants I'm wearing tomorrow.

I also pack the gun Dean gave me, along with a change of clothes and a warm jacket. There should be a safety suit aboard whichever transport I take.

The sound of a door opening tells me Logan just came out of the bathroom. “Clementine?” he calls.

“Be right out,” I say. I quickly shove the knapsack out of sight and change into clothes I can wear to bed.

Back in the bedroom, I slip beside him under the covers. It hits me suddenly that this is a future we could've had, if both of us had been picked for Extraction. Logan and I could've climbed into bed in a room like this every night and woken up beside each other every morning. Safe. Happy.

“I could get used to this,” Logan says, pulling me closer under the covers.

The ache of sadness in my gut is unbearable. I blink fast so my eyes won't start watering again.

He kisses me and I kiss him back harder, putting all the words I can't say to him into the kiss. All the “sorry's” I can't tell him out loud. All the ache and worry I have that this could be the last night we'll ever spend together.

Logan must be able to sense my worry, because he pulls away. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say.

I don't want to waste this night worrying about what could happen tomorrow. I want to be with Logan in every way I can be, before it's too late.

I put a hand on his cheek and kiss him again, savoring the sweetness of his lips. I trail my fingers along the skin under the hem of his pants and feel a shiver run through his body. Getting a better grip on his shirt, I ease it over his head. His breath hitches and I pause, afraid I'm hurting him.

“Is your leg all right?” I ask.

“My leg is fine,” he says, pulling me back down to kiss me again. I can feel the need in his lips.

I reach to undo his pant buttons, but he stops me with a hand. “Are you sure?” He sounds nervous, almost more nervous than I am.

“I'm sure.” My heart's fluttering fast, but I've never been surer about anything. “I love you, Logan.” It's the first time I've said those three words aloud to him, understanding how much they mean.

“I love you too,” Logan says. “I always have.”

Our kisses become desperate. His fingers tangle in my hair and trace lines down my back, inching their way everywhere. He gets my shirt over my head. His bare chest is warm against mine, solid, comforting. I've longed for this closeness, and I can tell he has too.

I undo his pant buttons, and he moves on top of me. There's nothing between us anymore, no secrets, no fears. Nothing matters but the feel of our bodies pressed close in the darkness of the apartment. We're clumsy and unsure, but we find our way together.

Afterward, we lie on top of the covers, his arms around me and my head against his chest, the way we always sleep together. I cling to him, pretending we can stay like this forever, the two of us apart from the rest of the world. Logan kisses my eyelids and tells me he loves me again in the moments before he falls asleep.

If everything goes wrong tomorrow, at least I'll have the memory of this last night with him to hold on to.

 

24

Once I'm sure Logan is sound asleep, I slip out of the bed.

I plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you,” I whisper again. No matter what happens, no one can take that from me.

I leave my comm-band on one of the dressers. Dean said there's a tracking device inside it, so I'd better not take it with me. I change into the clothes I'd set out earlier, grab the knapsack from the closet, and slip out the door into the hallway. It's still early enough in the night that no one should think anything strange of me leaving right now. But I have an excuse prepared in case I run into anyone who asks questions.

Every step I take, I remind myself why I can't change my mind: Beechy, Sandy, Uma, and thousands of other innocent people will die if I don't do this. The vul army will be destroyed. Even Logan could die. We don't know for sure if the bomb Fred's building will truly allow the Core to escape unscathed.

And even if it did, we would all remain subject to the rule of the Developers. The ruthless leaders who see us all as test subjects and pawns for their agendas. They've slaughtered thousands of innocent people in their time, sending too many girls and boys to the kill chambers every year. If the bomb goes off and the Core becomes a battle station, I'm not sure we'll ever be able to overpower them.

This is my last chance to put an end to the war on my own terms, or die trying.

*   *   *

The flight port is quiet when I arrive. A faint echo of footsteps and voices comes from the far side. No one's shipping off to war tonight, so the only people in here are mechanics busy refueling ships and fixing engine parts.

I pause in the doorway, looking out over the spread of transports. I need to take a small ship, preferably a hovercraft, so it'll have some firing power.

There's a transport about twenty yards away that looks promising. All I have to do is slip aboard it without being spotted by anyone and use the clearance code Dean gave me to start the engine. If someone sees me and asks questions, I'll pretend I belong here. I'll shoot them if I have to. Whatever it takes to board one of the ships and get it in the air.

I pull out my gun, swing my knapsack over my shoulder, and move out of the doorway. I can glimpse the mechanics from here, walking between transports on the far side of the port. I duck behind a toolbox on wheels as one of them turns in my direction.

Once I'm sure they didn't see me, I continue walking, my hand glued to my gun. I pick up my pace. I'm almost to the transport. Just a few more steps.

I reach it and quickly search for the panel on the back of the hovercraft that'll lower the boarding ramp. It doesn't take long to find. The ramp lowers with a loud creak that makes me flinch. Luckily, the mechanics are drilling something on the other side of the port. I don't think they heard anything.

Inside the hovercraft, I set my gun on the flight dashboard. Now all I have to do is enter the clearance code, start the engine, and get out of here before those mechanics realize what I'm doing and raise the alarm.

I settle into the pilot chair and switch on the dashboard. The screen asking for a clearance code comes up right away. I enter the digits Dean gave me: 4-8-2-7-5-0.

The screen takes a moment to compute the code.

CLEARANCE: GRANTED

I exhale in relief.

“There you are,” a voice says behind me. “I was afraid you were gonna duck out of here without me.”

I whip around, grabbing the gun from the dashboard. It's Skylar, out of breath and pressing a hand to her side like she was running to get here.

I lift my gun and click off the safety. “Get out or I'll shoot you.”

“Whoa, steady there,” Skylar says, freezing with her hands over her head. “I come in peace.”

“Like hell. Get off my ship. I'm getting out of here whether or not you already alerted Charlie.”

“I didn't alert anyone. I figured you could use some backup on the Mardenite battle station. Not to mention getting this piece of work in the air. You really had to pick the crappiest ship in the bay?”

I don't believe she didn't alert the Developers. She's still on their side, isn't she? Or has she suddenly decided to switch sides again?

“Who told you where I was going?” I ask.

“Who do you think?”

Dean is the only person I told. Clearly he trusted her enough to tell her what I'm planning on doing, but I don't trust her. She's the last person I would've asked to come with me.

“Get off my ship. I don't need your help.”

“Listen, you don't have to forgive me for what I did,” Skylar says.

“Wasn't planning on it.”

“You have every right to be angry. But I can help you, if you let me. I want to help you.”

“Why?” I demand. “You betrayed all of us to the Developers. Why would you want to help me kill them?”

“I know what I did,” she says. “But I don't think their bomb is going to save us. I don't think they're going to give up, and if we let them keep making all the decisions, we're going to die. I think it's time for a change of leadership. That's why I came here. Okay?”

We're running out of time. I need to get the ship in the air before someone figures out I'm taking the transport. Otherwise there won't be time to escape the Core. All of this will be over before I've even had a chance to try.

Skylar could easily be lying to me again. But as much as I hate to admit it, I'm afraid I'm getting into something bigger than I can handle on my own.

Leastways, if something happens to her, she's one of the only people I wouldn't feel guilty about losing.

“I want you to know I have zero reservations about shooting you,” I say, not lowering my gun. “If you try even the slightest thing to slow down my plans, I'll blast your brains open without a second's hesitation. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Skylar says.

“Then close the air-lock doors and buckle in.”

She turns around to close the doors, and I sit back down in the pilot seat. I haven't flown a ship since Skylar and I copiloted a Davara jet back at the Alliance compound, but thankfully everything she taught me comes back to me. I do a quick pre-check of the flight systems. Everything looks good; fuel levels are high. We should have plenty to get us to the Surface, anyway. I'm not sure there'd be enough to get us back to the Core, but we can't return without the vul army anyway. The Developers would execute us for treason.

I start the engine as Skylar buckles into the copilot chair beside me. I wrap my fingers around the control clutch and ease it back, lifting the hovercraft off the ground.

Through the cockpit window, I see the exact moment the mechanics realize what's going on. They drop what they're doing and wave their hands in the air as they run toward our transport. It looks like they're shouting.

“Get us out of here,” Skylar says.

I point our transport in the direction of a tunnel in the wall ahead, which will take us to the Pipeline. I accelerate a little, enough to get us to the Pipeline faster, but not too much. I don't want to crash the ship before we're even out of the Core.