Authors: Sarah Zettel
“Look!” She thumped her stick one more time.
Slowly, shaking from the effort, Tam stood and teetered over to the window. He pressed both palms against the glass and stared
at the spectacle outside, the triumphant birds and swirling insects.
“Pandora herself has said she doesn’t want the family to catch us,” said Elle, watching Tam as intensely as Tam watched the
birds. “Call the duty house, tell them to shut down the fences.”
“No,” breathed Tam. “I cannot. My family—”
“How can your family be right when Pandora says they’re wrong?” demanded Elle. “This is Pandora telling you what to do! Call
the duty house, shut them down. You can do this, Tam.”
Tam’s jaw worked back and forth, alternating between whispering to himself and chewing his own lip.
“Come on, Tam,” breathed Elle. “I know you’re still in there somewhere. Pandora’s giving you a chance.”
“I must go back to my family.”
Elle gripped his arm. “You can do this. I know you can.”
Tam squeezed his eyes shut. “I must go back to my family.”
“Yes,” said Elle fiercely. “When it is over, you will go back. You will tell them everything. I know that’s what you have
to do. But first you must help Pandora.”
Tam raised one trembling fist. Farin sucked in his breath, and moved to step between Tam and Elle, but Elle waved him back.
Tam, his face white with concentration, uncurled one finger at a time and touched the tips to the data display on the back
of his right hand. Teal swallowed hard, fear and hope both clogging her throat.
Tam traced a series of commands on the display. No one breathed. There was only the screech of birds and the crackle of the
fire.
“Done,” said Tam. “Done.”
“Go!” shouted Elle.
Teal took a deep breath. Then, so fast she had no time to think, she opened the door and ran out into the maelstrom with Farin
right behind her. Her last sight of Elle was her laying a hand on Tam’s shoulder.
The world outside was a frenzy of singing insects and shrieking birds. Teal ran, keeping her head ducked, so all she could
see was the boardwalk in front of her. Birds screamed and fluttered out of the way. Insects scrunched under her shoes. Something
dark slithered across her path and Teal realized the snakes had come to join in the feed. A kind of wild delight filled her.
Nan Elle was right. Pandora itself was fighting back.
The idea gave her the strength to look up. They had almost reached the northern edge of the village. Ahead of her, she could
see the board-walk’s edge with its neat row of fence posts. If Tam had lied, or his orders had been countermanded and they’d
turned the fence posts off only for a moment, it ended here. They were dead, or as good as.
Screaming at the top of her lungs, Teal leapt.
She hit the ground with a thump that knocked all the air out of her lungs and sent an outraged flock of birds winging skyward.
A second later, Farin measured his length in the sand beside her. They both lay there panting for a moment.
Alive. Awake.
We did it.
Teal lifted her head. The clouds of insects were thinner out here, and the clusters of birds were thicker. They warbled and
chortled triumphantly to each other as they strolled casually after their prey.
Scrambling to her feet, Teal knew exactly how they felt.
“We still have to find your sister.” Farin climbed to his own feet, scanning the boardwalk for witnesses. “Before the hothousers
show up to find out what’s gone wrong.”
“Not going to be a problem,” said Teal, taking in a deep, free breath of morning air. “The whole world’s on our side.”
Farin laughed, and headed off into the brush. Teal ran to catch up, and as she did, she snuck a look at him, watching the
way his long legs swung so easily, even over the shifting sand, and how his auburn hair caught the sunlight. For just a minute,
she could see how he had looked so good to Chena.
The memory of old fights and old insults came back hard.
“Farin…” She licked her lips. “Are you really a… a… prostitute?”
“I’ve been paid for sex,” he said. Then he broke stride for just a moment to look at her. “And no, I never made love to your
sister.”
“Oh,” said Teal, pointing her eyes straight ahead. “Okay.”
Farin laughed a little at that, but it was a kind sound, as if he understood. Teal had to admit to herself the question was
pretty stupid and probably none of her business, but she still felt as if a weight had left her. When they found Chena, she’d
tell her she’d been stupid, or maybe she wouldn’t, because Chena would never let her hear the end of it if she did.
The new lightness only lasted for a short time, however. Farin set a pace up the dune that left Teal with no breath for anything
but walking. The sand shifted under her boots, giving way slowly to firm earth, which made walking somewhat easier, but the
new soil grew short, crabbed bushes loaded with burrs and thorns. A few scattered prairie chickens hunted stray locusts under
the bracken, but that was all.
Get to the cliffs.
Teal wiped her forehead.
Get Chena out. That’s all that’s left to do. Then we go back to the station.
“Teal?”
Farin had stopped and was pointing up the slope in front of them. Teal followed the line of his arm and saw a human figure
crest the ridge from the other side.
“Chena!” she shouted.
But Chena did not hear. She just turned toward the lake, trudging toward the edge of the cliff. She cradled something heavy
in her arms.
Teal felt the blood drain from her face. Chena carried a small boy.
“I think that’s the Eden Project she’s…” began Farin, then he saw Teal’s face.
“God’s own,” Teal breathed. Chena had paused at the edge of the cliff, hugging the boy close to her chest and peering down
at the water. “What’s she doing?”
“Teal…”
But Teal was already running. “Chena! Stop!”
“Chena!”
Chena jerked her head up. A woman ran toward her. She tightened her grip on Eden’s still form and turned to look down into
the water where it swirled against the base of the rust-red cliff.
“Stop! Don’t! It’s Teal!”
Chena turned again; she couldn’t help it. “Teal?” she heard herself breathe.
The woman had stopped running. She stood in a clump of antelope’s tail brush about ten yards away, panting hard. She was tall
and round in the hips, with skin the exact color Mom’s had been.
“It’s me, I’m Teal,” she gasped. “I had a tailor age me up. The one who got hold of you, I think.”
“Teal’s gone,” murmured Chena. It was a good thing the woman wore sturdy trousers, she thought idly. Antelope’s tail had thorns.
“She left.”
“I’m back,” said the woman. “God’s own, Nan Elle recognized me.” Chena felt her eyes strain as they stared. “And you used
to call me vapor-brain,” snorted the woman.
Chena’s mouth had to shape the word several times before any sound come out. “Teal?”
“So, what do you think you’re doing this time?” The woman— Teal? really? Teal come back?—folded her arms, standing with one
hip thrust a little forward and her face twisted up, scornful, superior. Just like Teal in the hothouse when she was telling
Chena how things really were. Just like Teal a hundred times when they were staying with Nan Elle and she didn’t want to go
to class, didn’t want to go on shift, didn’t want to do anything Chena told her she had to.
“Teal.” She took a step forward, and then Eden shifted in her arms. Was it waking up?
“Hello.” Teal waved a careless salute. “I asked what do you think you’re doing.”
Chena looked down at the water. From here, it looked deep blue. Spurts of foam leapt up from where the waves splashed the
rocks.
Remember what you’re doing. This is important. You have to do it now.
But Teal should know what was happening. “This killed Mom.” She held Eden out.
Teal leaned forward and wrinkled her nose at it. “Doesn’t look old enough.”
“No! This was inside her. This is what they cut out of her!” Teal had to understand. Teal had come back. Teal knew how important
this was. Teal was the only other one who knew. “This is what they were going to put inside us!”
Teal cocked her head and eyed Chena skeptically. “So, you’re going to toss the kid over the cliff because the hothousers’
brains are all vacuum-welded?”
Anger, hot as blood, thundered through Chena’s veins. “You don’t understand. You never understand!”
Teal threw open her arms. “Explain it to me, then, Chena. You always have forty thousand explanations in storage. Let’s have
the one for murdering a little boy.”
“It’s not a little boy!” she screamed. “Stop saying it’s a little boy!”
“Look at him, Chena!” snapped Teal. “If that’s not a little boy, what is it?”
Chena looked at the figure lying limp in her arms. It still looked so much like Teal—not this new, strange Teal in front of
her, but Teal when she was little. Teal when she had listened, when she had believed.
“It’s a cure for the Diversity Crisis. It’s a murder weapon. It’s our future.” Chena’s eyes burned as she looked at it. It
shifted again. It was going to wake up soon and open Teal’s eyes. She wouldn’t be able to jump if she had to look into Teal’s
eyes. “It can’t get sick, no matter what it’s exposed to. They’re going to use it to kill off the Authority and all the Called.
They’re going to be the only people left alive.” She lifted her gaze to Teal, tall and mature, all ready for the hothousers
to use. “They’re going to use us to make more of them, Teal, so they can kill more people!”
“So, you’re going to throw him off a cliff?”
Tears came at last, streams of heat trickling down her cheeks. “They’re never going to leave us alone, Teal. They’re going
to keep coming and coming and coming. They’re going to use us to kill people, Teal. I don’t want to kill people.” Teal’s face
shifted as she finally understood it was not just Eden who had to die.
“No?” Teal’s eyebrows rose and she sauntered a couple of steps forward. “You just want to kill him and you.” Teal stepped
up next to Chena and looked down over the cliff, measuring the length of the drop with her gaze.
“It’ll be over,” whispered Chena.
“For you.” Teal turned to face her. “What about me?” She poked her own chest with one finger. “If you’re gone and I’m all
that’s left. What happens to me?”
Chena hesitated. Teal. Teal come back. What would they do to Teal without her there? Teal never knew how to take care of herself.
“You could come with us,” she whispered. “We’d win. They’d never be able to kill anybody without us.”
“But I don’t want to die, Chena,” said Teal softly. She took another step forward. “I don’t want to give them what they want.”
“No, they want us to live.”
“Do they?” She reached out and touched Chena’s arm, and even through her tears Chena could see Teal’s eyes, Mom’s eyes. “They
had to kill Mom to stop her, Chena. Do you really think they want to keep us alive?” Chena’s arms began to tremble and Teal
gripped her wrist. “You do this thing and you’ll be giving them what they want.”
Exhaustion washed over Chena. So many bad decisions, so much gone wrong, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “I want it over, Teal,”
she said. “There’s no life for us. Even if he was a little boy, there’d be no life for him. They’d just keep poking and prodding
him, trying to figure him out. They’d still need to use us all as breeding cows because they’re desperate, Teal. They’re desperate.”
“So, screw ’em to the deck plates,” Teal spat. “If you’re dead, they’ll just fish out your body and take it apart. If you’re
alive, you can fight back.”
“I’m tired, Teal.”
Teal laid her other hand on Chena’s arm. “So am I, but we’re not alone. I’ve brought help.”
“Help?” said Chena. How could there be help? There had never been anyone to help them. Not really.
But Teal nodded, and Eden groaned. It hurt. She’d hurt it.
“Let me show you,” said Teal. “And if you don’t like what you see, you can always slit your wrists or something.”
“I…” Chena hesitated, tears and exhaustion fogging her mind. This was wrong. Everything was all wrong. “I killed people already,
Teal.”
“So, don’t kill anymore.” Teal held out her arms. “Let me take Eden, and you both come with me.”
Chena looked down at the cold blue water. She should jump. She should do it now. That was the sure way. It would all be over
as soon as she hit the water. No more decisions, no more crying, no more blood and loss.
“I didn’t come back to argue with you, Chena,” said Teal. “And my arms are getting tired.”
Over. All over. For her. But for Teal? For the Called and the villagers? The hothousers would fish up her body. They’d take
her to pieces and use her for spare parts, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing she could do about it.
And Teal was still standing in front of her, arms out, toe tapping impatiently. Teal, of all of them, had come back.
Chena poured Eden into Teal’s arms. Eden blinked and stirred again as Teal cradled him to her chest. She turned away and began
walking down the cliff, toward the beach and Stem. Slowly, one shaking step at a time, Chena began to follow her.
“I have a message for you, Father Mihran.” Tam’s words dropped like lead into the center of the storm.
As one, the committee froze in the middle of their furious debate and turned to stare, mouths agape, hands still in the air.
His family. He had come back to his family, as was right. He stepped into the committee grove to stand at the foot of the
table.
The entire family dome was in an uproar. As he’d walked across the family wing, he’d heard a thousand variations on the same
theme. The containment measures around Stem had failed spectacularly, and everyone seemed torn between trying to measure the
damage they had done to the local ecosystem, telling each other they had known it would never work, and trying frantically
to sort through a billion pieces of confused and conflicting data to find out how the fences had gone down, and if anyone
had slipped out of the village while they had.