Parched (36 page)

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Authors: Georgia Clark

BOOK: Parched
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“Tess Rockwood, Naz Rodriguez, Ling Sun-Yi, Achilles Zamata.” Gyan's hands are folded casually in front of him, facing us from the other end of the table. “Please. Have a seat.”

“What have you done to these children?” Abel asks in horror, as we're shoved toward empty chairs. Tranqs and Quicks stand behind us.

“Please, Dr. Rockwood,” Gyan says, one soft palm raised calmly. “Let's not get emotional.”

“Emotional?” Abel repeats incredulously. “How can I not get
emotional when—” Razer tips aim in his direction and he falls silent. He must know by now that I was the one who used his Simutech swab, that I was part of the failed mission to destroy Aevum.

Gyan's deep, cultured voice commands the huge space effortlessly. “I have some questions about Aevum. As you can appreciate, I am a busy man overseeing an important transitional period in Eden's evolution, so please, let's keep this brief and to the point. Agreed?”

Abel's low voice radiates disgust. “I assume you're referring to your barbaric plan to destroy life in the Badlands.”

The nod Gyan gives the closest Tranq is almost imperceptible. In a blur, the butt of the Tranq's razer smashes down on my uncle's hand. Abel shrieks in pain.

Gyan frowns at his cuticles. “Answer the questions and nothing more. Understood?”

Abel rocks back and forth, clutching his hand, shock all over his face. He hisses, “Senseless violence? Why am I not surprised.”

Gyan enunciates his words again, this time slower and more threatening. “Answer the questions and nothing more. Understood?”

Abel's eyes are on me as he mutters through gritted teeth, “Understood.”

Gyan clears his throat perfunctorily. “I am making the educated guess that you encouraged your niece to spend time with Aevum in an effort to”—he twirls his fingers, searching for the right phrase—“undermine Project Aevum. Correct?”

Abel shakes his head. “I was trying to get Hunter to develop emotionally, as he theoretically should have done. What he did after that was up to him.”

“Did you know, Dr. Rockwood,” Gyan asks, placing his fingertips together and tapping them lightly, “that your niece was brought back to Eden by the rebel group Kudzu?”

I duck my eyes. Abel's voice is faint. “Not at the time,” he replies. “But over the past few weeks, I've come to suspect as much.”

“Interesting,” Gyan murmurs, before shifting his gaze to Ling. “Miss Sun-Yi, now that you've had some time to enjoy life in the Holding Cell, I wonder whether you've reconsidered your answer as to the whereabouts of your fellow terrorists?”

Ling snorts, eyes steely. She shakes her head slowly. “No.”

Gyan glances to Achilles and Naz. “No? No takers?” Then, staring at me, “What about you, Just Tess?”

I stare back at him blankly.

“Very well.” Gyan strolls to the window, hands twined casually behind his back. The hem of his yellow robe swishes over the spotless floor. “I see now that the relatively long leash I gave Simutech in the development of Aevum was a mistake.”

Abel's voice is dangerously passionate. “What you intend to do with Hunter is categorically inhuman—”


Aevum
is making its own decisions,” Gyan retorts. “We aren't forcing it to do anything.”

“Of course you are!” exclaims Abel. “You haven't shown him another way of thinking!”

“It's a
machine
!” Gyan shouts, voice cracking like thunder. He stares down at my uncle, quivering with rage. “All of the problems we've tracked with Aevum have been a direct result of its involvement with your niece. Letting her escape at Simutech, the reprogramming of fifty Quicks in Orange Grove Plaza—”

“What?” Abel asks in confusion.

“It doesn't matter,” Gyan says angrily. His dark eyes swing to me viciously. An electric shiver spikes through me. Gyan takes a deep breath through his nose. Then he snorts a little laughter. “It doesn't matter,” he repeats, but this time, it sounds like he means it. “Ah,” Gyan smiles at something behind me. “Speak of the devil.”

I swing around in my chair. Standing in the doorway is Hunter.

I can't do anything but stare at him, jaw unhinged, as he strides confidently toward Gyan. He is dressed in all white, a crisp button-down shirt and pants. His hair is neatly combed. New white boots squeak on the spotless floor. He looks thoroughly and unmistakably Trust.

I was wrong. He's alive. Maybe his skin was fireproof, maybe he was rebuilt somehow, I don't know. But he's right here.
He's alive
.

“Good morning, sir,” he says, shaking Gyan's outstretched hand.

“Hunter.” The word steals out of my throat, too low for anyone to hear. My eyes drink him in. “
Hunter
.” This time, he can hear me.

He looks at me, a quizzical frown creasing his smooth forehead. He cocks his head at me, and my heart leaps painfully. Hunter: curious and calm and kind. He turns back to Gyan. “How does that girl know me?”

Gyan's lips curl upward, revealing snow-white teeth. “Excellent,” he breathes.

“Sir?” Hunter asks again. “Is this what you wanted to see me about?”

“Yes, Aevum,” Gyan says to Hunter. “But there's nothing to be
concerned about. These are the people who were compromising your development.” He stares at me, his expression pulsing with power. “The ones we had removed from your memories. That's why they know you, but you do not recognize them. I'm glad to see the process was a success.”

I turn to my uncle in fear. “Did that really happen?”

My uncle's words feel as cold as snow. “Yes, Tess, I'm afraid it did. Myself included.”

I look back at Hunter, my throat constricting. “You don't . . . remember us?”

“No,” Gyan answers. “He doesn't.” He sighs, brushing his fingers down Hunter's arm almost wistfully. “That's what I love about technology. It's so efficient. So exact.”

I direct my words at Gyan, rage boiling inside me. “
How could you
. How could you treat him like . . . like a machine you can do whatever you like with?”

“Aevum
is
a machine I can do whatever I like with,” Gyan snarls back. “Aevum is the property of the Trust.”

“No!” I cry, ignoring the restraining hands on me. “He has a mind! He's alive! Now you've destroyed . . .” My words falter, catching in my throat. “Now he won't remember . . .”

“What?” Gyan's words are urgent. “What doesn't Aevum remember that's so important to you?”

I stare at Hunter: mysterious, clever, sweet Hunter. He looks back at me curiously. “How do we know each other? Do you work for the Trust?”

Behind him, the white shark drifts endlessly back and forth in the water. “Now he doesn't remember the feelings he had for me,” I say meekly.

A few long beats of awkward silence. The look on Gyan's face is a perfect mix of incredulity and disgust.

“Tess,” Abel says softly, “artilects don't have feelings like we do. Not even Hunter.”

“That's not true!” I choke, tears welling in my eyes. “They do. That's why Mom was killed, that's why Magnus killed her, it was because of
me
!”

A Tranq shoves a razer into my back, but Gyan stops him with a lifted hand. His eyes don't leave mine. His voice is low and intense: “Tell me why your mother was killed.”

I say nothing. I've held on to that secret for over a year. I'm not breaking, not even now.

Gyan slips his fingers into his robe and extracts the remote for my chip, holding it up like a prize.

“Do your worst,” I mumble sourly. At least the Nurses will be nice to me when I end up back in the hospital. Change of clothes can't hurt either.

Gyan slits his eyes. “Tell me why your mother was killed and I'll pardon one of your friends from execution.”

Naz, Ling, and Achilles all stare at me, eyes round with shock. None of us even knew the Trust executed prisoners, let alone that we were on the list. “Works for me,” murmurs Achilles.

I close my eyes, steadying myself on the edge of the table with outstretched hands. The truth about Magnus. A secret I swore I would take to my grave. But now it can save someone from theirs.

I open my eyes. Everyone is staring at me. Even the Tranquils and Quicks look as if they're listening. I say, haltingly, “Magnus killed my mom because he thought he was in love with me.”

“What?” cries Abel in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

My gaze lowers to the table. “I wanted to punish her. For spending so much time away from me. I was so jealous of him . . .” Blood rushes to my face. “It was stupid, and it just got out of control. I didn't realize how much it was affecting him, I swear, I didn't know.”

“How
what
was affecting him?” Abel says in confusion. “Magnus barely spent any time with anyone, that was the problem with Frankie's approach. Why would Magnus think he was in love with
you
?”

Hot tears drip onto the table in front of me. “C'mon, Uncle Abel,” I say with a sad smile. “Isn't it obvious?” Abel's look of noncomprehension forces me over the edge. “Magnus . . . and I . . . were . . .” I suck in a deep, shuddering breath. “Involved.”

There it is. The secret I'd let banish me to the Badlands. The secret that had not only destroyed me and my mother but Magnus as well. He wasn't anywhere near as evolved as Hunter, but it was still wrong. He was still alive in some strange, undefined way. He was alive, and because of me, now he isn't. I am the one who used his feelings for me to get him out of Simutech and into my
house
. Where we were caught.

My bedroom light made the copper color of his artificial skin look like it was on fire. “How much do you love me?”

I could just hear the soft electric wheeze of hidden mechanics as Magnus revolved his head toward me. “I do not understand the question. I cannot define emotions in a quantifiable way.”

I laughed and rolled onto my stomach, fumbling for the bottle of white nail polish on my crowded bedside table. “It's just an expression, dummy. Rhetoric. Tell me you love me more than there are stars in the sky.”

“I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”

My fingers found the polish. “How many stars are there, anyway?”

“Seventy sextillion.”


Sex
tillion, huh?” I giggled. Unscrewing the small bottle, I carefully dab at my fingernails with the fine brush. “Tell me you love me more than Mark Manzino loves his stupid dogface girlfriend.”

“I love you more than Mark Manzino loves his stupid dogface girlfriend.”

“Thought so.” I snickered softly. I finished my nails and rolled off my bed to twirl across my bedroom floor. I've let my room get insanely messy. I don't care
.

Izzy said love made her unstoppable. But you don't need to be
in
love to feel that way. Just
being
loved did the trick. And Magnus loved me more than any of Izzy's boyfriends or girlfriends ever loved her. This thought made me tingle all over. For once, I'm the one with an obsessed boyfriend. Me
.

“What do you love about me?” I asked with a sigh, eyes closed, wanting to feel giddy
.

“Everything.”

I opened my eyes. The room spun. “Be specific.”

A pause. “I love the color of your hair.”

I giggled, stumbling over to collapse into his lap. “Yes, that's interesting, isn't it?” I folded my legs up under me and snaked one hand around the back of his thick, cool neck. His huge size made me feel tiny. “I read men are genetically programmed to find women with blond hair attractive because they look younger,” I said. “Younger equals more fertile, and more fertile equals greater chance in producing offspring. You'll never get anyone pregnant, and you're still into blondes.”

Or maybe, you're just into me.

I stroke one side of his mathematically square jaw with my fingertips. He made a low whirring sound that conveys what he experiences as pleasure. My man-machine. Mine. Magnus would do anything for me. I thrilled at the power I had over him, a wicked and glorious and dangerous power that made me feel so deliciously alive
.

“How much do you love me, Tess?”

His large, strong hands cradle my back, exactly where I've told him I like it. He never forgets. I arched my back like a serpent. “More than anything in the world.” The lie swirled from my lips like a delicate wisp of smoke
.

The front door slammed. My head jerked in the direction of the sound
.

“Tess?”

She's supposed to be at a conference.

“Don't come in here!” I leaped to lock my door, but Magnus held me in place
.

“Please keep touching my face with—”

“Shut up,” I whispered furiously. “And let me go. Now!”

“Tess?” She sounded panicked
. Damn—did they realize he was missing? It's only been an hour. Or so?

“Don't come in here!”

I flew across the room. My hand on the knob just as she pushed it open, knocking me back
.

“Tess, have you—” She saw him. Shit
. Shit.
I'm grounded for the next year. Her protracted look of disbelief was so comical, I almost laughed
.

My mother's voice, a hoarse whisper, alien in its terror: “What is he doing in the house?”

I watched her alert, flushed face answer that question for herself
.

The fact was I'm wearing nothing but a t-shirt. The Simutech transport in the driveway. The unusual changes to Magnus' singularix she couldn't understand. My late-night visits where I'd “forgotten” she wouldn't be there, relayed to her by helpful Howie. And the fact I'd stopped asking for her attention, months ago. It all spoke for itself. The expression on her face made me realize how much I relished the power I had over her, too
.

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