Singularity's Ring (29 page)
Read Singularity's Ring Online
Authors: Paul Melko
Because we told them!
The emergency exit.
No. We can’t leave the babies.
We have no defense against guns!
The wombs were immobile. There were no other doors out of the womb room.
The door,
Scarlet sent.
We can block the outer door open, and the inner door will remain locked due to the overpressure.
Scarlet sent.
We can block the outer door open, and the inner door will remain locked due to the overpressure.
Scarlet pushed the rest of her pod into the inner room and began reprogramming the outer door panel.
Inside!
she sent.
she sent.
Martha, Rachel, and Vivian stopped, suddenly understanding what Scarlet was planning.
No! You can’t.
I can’t trigger the door until you’re through the airlock.
Then we all stay out here.
One can hide. Four can’t!
The consensus was fierce, but valid. The three entered the lock, leaving Scarlet. There was a whoosh of air as the door shut. They heard a pulse of fire from the hall, suddenly muffled. So were they. Instead of four, they were three. A quarter less, a quarter slower.
The womb smelled of antiseptic.
Outside, through the windows, they watched Scarlet working on the outer door lock. They could almost hear her thoughts. The outer door opened, and the inner door light flashed red. Unless they had explosives …
Then we’re more than screwed.
Scarlet looked over her shoulder.
Hide! Go!
But she couldn’t hear them now.
The gears of the door shook in the doorway, something grinding in the wall. Scarlet had fried the motors.
Martha stood at the window, glass so thick it made the outer lab seem a mansion. Vivian and Rachel looked away, but watched the view from Martha.
Scarlet scrambled for the hood. If she could climb up onto the lab table and squirm into the unused hood, she’d be hidden in the black shroud. Shapes flashed into the room before she reached it. Martha watched, terrified.
Scarlet screamed, the words unheard. The guns cracked, and Scarlet dove for the floor.
Not hit!
Scarlet struggled backward, crabbing behind the lab tables. She turned and ran back toward the womb room. The military duo cleaved at the door, one following the columns, the other the rows.
Scarlet slid past the outer door as one of the duo came around the lab table. The gun barked, and blood splashed against the window. Scarlet’s blood.
Martha’s brain stopped as she watched Scarlet buckle to the floor.
Open the door!
She wasn’t sure who was screaming. It could have been herself.
Scarlet rolled against the wall and sat up, watching the
door, looking into the lab where Martha couldn’t see. She turned then, formed letters with her hands in rudimentary sign language.
door, looking into the lab where Martha couldn’t see. She turned then, formed letters with her hands in rudimentary sign language.
I-t w-a-s—
The burst of automatic fire resounded in the antechamber of the womb room.
Martha jerked. The spray of blood coated the inner window, but still she saw the military duo standing there. They raised their guns, and the bullets ricocheted off the inner window. Both of the duo looked to the right, looking at something else, perhaps listening to something. Martha heard nothing.
Another burst of gunfire pounded the glass in front of her face. Tiny scars appeared, obscuring the sight of Scarlet. The womb would not open.
One of the duo grabbed the arm of the other. They seemed to confer, gesturing at the damaged door lock, stepping over Scarlet’s body as they did so. They spoke to someone off to the side, out of Martha’s line of sight, then turned and disappeared.
Martha found she didn’t care that they had survived. If she could have she would have turned their guns on herself.
Instead she sank to her knees. Vivian and Rachel were there behind her, holding her, but there was a void among them.
They didn’t remember the hours it took the building team to tear open the womb. They didn’t remember until later clinging to Scarlet’s body, until the doctors led them to the stretchers.
The next few days were a buzz as doctors came and went, fighting off their pod shock with kind words and exercises. Redd couldn’t fight the hollowness, and they kept thinking of themselves as Vivian, Rachel, and Martha. They slept alone, even though the beds were big enough for all three.
Nicholas came to visit, but he hovered by the door and wouldn’t come that far in.
“Redd, we were wondering …”
But then he stopped, and Redd knew what he was thinking. Which one was missing? Which one had died? The horror was on all of his faces.
“I’m sorry. I just …”
“You don’t have to wait for us.” He probably had job offers or postdoc opportunities.
He swallowed. “When things are right for you, call me.”
Martha nodded, but all three of them felt the falseness in the offer.
The pain might have brought them together, but instead it sheered them further. Twice orderlies brought Vivian back after she had wandered off in near-catatonic states.
Some of her students came to visit, but Redd felt their discomfort. The loss she had sustained was what they feared, a partial loss of self, a disassociating that resulted in less than the whole.
Even Khalid came to see her. His manner was calm, analytical, as he discussed her lab work, some of which he had taken on. The gruff manner she had always hated was reassuring. He treated her no differently than when she was whole.
After a pause, he said, “I should thank you for what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“The quintet embryos. No one will harm them, not even the Eugenics Department.”
“Oh, I guess …” Martha started.
“You sacrificed yourself for them, even though they were … not sanctioned. You’re a hero, and the embryos are sacred.”
“I’ m glad.”
“Redd,” Khalid said. “They’ll need a teacher, a mentor.
I’m just a genetics specialist, and not that good according to you.” He laughed coldly at his own humor. “But you could be a great mentor for the kids, the quintets, I mean.”
I’m just a genetics specialist, and not that good according to you.” He laughed coldly at his own humor. “But you could be a great mentor for the kids, the quintets, I mean.”
“I haven’t given any thought to what I’ll do next,” Martha said.
Vivian turned then from the window.
I’d like to take care of them.
I’d like to take care of them.
Martha felt Rachel’s agreement.
“I understand,” Khalid said. “It’s not your line of research.”
“I might, if you tell me where you got the DNA sequences.”
Khalid flushed, startled, then he smiled. He shook his head. “Cahill gave them to me. She got them from …” Khalid lowered his voice. “The Ring Intelligence sent the information just before the Exodus. The sequences for the quintets and more. The Institute has been doling it out for a decade.”
The Ring!
They have the wealth.
“No!”
“The code is sound, Redd. Cahill has checked it. They’ll be as human as you or I.”
Redd nodded. “I’ll mentor your quintets, Khalid.”
He returned her nod. “I expected you would. Thanks.” He left the three of them.
Children to raise,
Vivian sent, more happy than she had been in days.
Vivian sent, more happy than she had been in days.
It’s important work.
That’s all she had left.
Vivian pushes Manuel away.
“Though you can do such things doesn’t mean you should!” Mother Redd yells.
It is the first time since seeing her that we are on the defensive. We are chastened.
“Sorry,” Meda says.
What we have learned, that this is not the first time that someone has wanted us dead, is a shock. Not just us, but all quintets, even our classmates.
“Is Elliott in danger?” It has been a long time since we’ve thought of our classmate who was chosen over us to pilot the
Consensus
. In light of Khalid’s and Redd’s professional jealousy, our competitiveness with Elliott seems petty.
Consensus
. In light of Khalid’s and Redd’s professional jealousy, our competitiveness with Elliott seems petty.
Mother Redd is still shaken as well, we see. We have made her relive the death of herself. But she focuses on our question and says, “He’s as safe as we can make him. All of you are. You were until you ran off from Columbus Station.”
“We—”
“That was foolhardy. The Ring is dangerous.”
“The Ring made us.”
“No, the Ring Intelligence helped create some of your genetic strands. Humans made you.”
“Who wants us dead? Who sent the duo?” When we say it, we don’t know if we mean Anderson McCorkle or the one who killed Scarlet.
“Come walk with me to the aircar,” Mother Redd says.
We must trust her,
Moira sends.
Moira sends.
We’ve seen her thoughts.
She died for us.
She is at the edge of the forest by then. We follow, Meda at the lead.
The rest of the aircar passengers, if there are any, have remained inside. The pilot duo still watches us through bug-eyed helmets.
“Immediately after the Exodus, no one in the OG or
pod society wanted anything to do with the Ring and Community tech,” Mother Redd says. “They blamed the Community, and specifically the Ring Intelligence, for the collapse, the war, the deaths. They wanted nothing to do with any of it.”
pod society wanted anything to do with the Ring and Community tech,” Mother Redd says. “They blamed the Community, and specifically the Ring Intelligence, for the collapse, the war, the deaths. They wanted nothing to do with any of it.”
“How much of the pod genetic code is from the Ring?” Meda asks. “Dr. Baker says it was directed from the beginning by the Ring.”
Redd shakes her head. “This is the first I’ve heard that theory. I knew Baker. He never joined the Community, one of a few scientists who didn’t. The Community spent no time on genetics. It was never an interest to them, nor pods. Perhaps we were wrong about that.”
“You knew him?” Meda asks.
“Yes, that was before …” And we know what she means: before Scarlet was killed. “He presented a paper at a colloquium, on the speed of pod consensus. He talked so fast, we hardly followed him. Chemical memory uptake, pheromone catalyzation, blood-brain barrier optimization.” She shakes her head at the memory. “He disappeared not long after that; his apartment was firebombed by anti-Community protesters. Don’t look shocked. It was an angry time after the Exodus. No one knew what to do.”
“Why did you let Malcolm Leto near us?”
She stops. She is ten meters from the aircar.
“That wasn’t my idea. It was Khalid’s.”
“Why?” Meda’s words are more anguished than we expect.
“He wanted to know if there was some plan for you. He wanted to know if the Ring had meant to build you for a purpose.”
“Did it?”
“I still don’t know.”
We were on the Ring and nothing happened.
How do we know for certain?
Moira asks.
Moira asks.
How could she let that happen?
Meda asks.
Meda asks.
“How could you … ?” Meda repeats out loud.
“I didn’t know what he was,” Mother Redd says, her voice filled with anguish. “I couldn’t guess that he was a sociopath. No one expected it. The Community had no crime. We have hardly any. We assumed he was as socialized as any of us.” She pauses. “I haven’t forgiven myself for that, Apollo.”
“Have you forgiven Khalid?”
“Why?”
“It was his idea.”
“How could he know?” Mother Redd continues, “I’m here now not just because I care for you. I came because of Malcolm Leto.”
“Why?”
“We let him get away, and now he’s building a Second Community. He must be stopped.”
We fly across two thousand kilometers of North America to Mother Redd’s farm at close to mach two. Quant stands at the door of the cockpit to the Scryfejet, inserting us into the duo pilot’s thoughts. Their communication is curt, simple, and fast. Still we understand it. We are only eavesdropping, not communicating.
This is the third pod, not counting the bears, into which we have inserted ourselves.
What of those singletons in Bolivopolis?
Quant asks.
Quant asks.
Yes, but they weren’t a pod. They were pod-born singletons,
Manuel sends.
Manuel sends.
We have not understood what had happened until now. Gueran had wanted to rub our noses in what the OG was doing to the broken pods, shipping them off to South American enclaves to be cared for by singletons. The
group of broken podmates that walked by had slipped into our consciousness and overwhelmed us.
group of broken podmates that walked by had slipped into our consciousness and overwhelmed us.
That was the first time,
Quant reaffirms, asking for consensus.
Quant reaffirms, asking for consensus.
Other books
Savage: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance by Isabella Starling, Marci Fawn
Protective Mate by Toni Griffin
The Wedding Party by H. E. Bates
Death by Beauty by Lord, Gabrielle
The Poison Tide by Andrew Williams
Dark Descendant by Jenna Black
One of the Guys by Ashley Johnson
Everybody Knows Your Name by Andrea Seigel
Pickers 4: The Pick by Garth Owen
Almost Eden by Anita Horrocks
