United: An Alienated Novel (11 page)

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Your brother,” he whispered back. “He buzzed me on my sphere, but not long enough to connect. I don’t know what it means.”

“Maybe he pocket-dialed you.”

Aelyx hesitated. “I’m going to check on him.” He pointed at a nearby stretch of conveyor belt. “Hide under there until I get back.”

Cara wrinkled her nose. As dirty as the floor was, God only knew what kind of science experiments were growing underneath the equipment.

Aelyx sighed. “Just don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“Okay.”

After she watched him jog away, she turned an ear toward the nearby corridor. The voices were clearer now—one male, one female—and distinct enough that she could tell they were speaking L’eihr. She understood enough of the language to pick out a few words:
put them there
…
along the support walls
…
nothing left standing
. The female didn’t sound like Aisly, and more than that, Cara wondered why two L’eihrs would talk to each other when they could use Silent Speech. She peeked over her shoulder, torn between waiting for Aelyx and moving closer to investigate.

In the end, temptation won the battle.

She inched silently down the corridor, keeping her back to the wall and her ears alert. The voices had fallen silent, but an occasional scrape of shoes told her at least one person was still near. The hallway led to a warehouse at the back of the property. At the far end of the room, two mammoth garage-style doors were open, revealing the tractor-trailers Cara had seen from the shuttle. Sunlight cut through the doorways and illuminated the loading bay, but the rest of the warehouse—a maze of wooden pallets and cardboard boxes wrapped in plastic—remained in shadows. It wasn’t until she heard a rattle that she was able to spot someone.

About ten yards to the left, a redheaded girl stood facing a closed maintenance closet. The girl was dressed like Aisly in a gray tunic over black leggings, but she was much taller and definitely not a L’eihr, as evidenced by the long, scarlet braid hanging between her shoulders. Since the girl couldn’t see her, Cara tiptoed from the mouth of the hallway to a forklift parked in the center of the room, then ducked behind it for a closer look.

The redhead seemed frustrated, tugging on a handle that wouldn’t open. There was a sign affixed to the door. In bold lettering easily visible from Cara’s position, it stated PUSH, DON’T PULL. As the girl stared at the words, she grabbed the handle and jerked it back with a grunt. When that didn’t work, she growled and stomped a foot.

Whoever she was, she couldn’t read English.

Cara was still puzzling over it when a voice from behind drawled, “Hello,
Cah
-ra.” She slapped a hand over her heart and whirled around to find herself face-to-face with Jaxen, who stood there with both hands in his pockets, grinning at her as if they’d bumped into each other at a party and he wanted to ask her out.

“Jaxen,” she breathed. She noticed he didn’t have his staff. That was one point in her favor. “Always a pleasure.”

“I see you’ve found my new friend.” He lifted a hand to indicate the redhead. “How appropriate that you were drawn to her.”

Cara didn’t answer him. She was too busy taking note of the exits and calculating the quickest path back to the shuttle.

“I believe an introduction is in order.” He motioned for the redhead to join them. “This is Rune. I named her myself. It’s the L’eihr word for
improvement
.”

Cara was vaguely aware of the girl’s presence, noticing in her periphery when she reached Jaxen’s side. Then she looked at the girl in earnest and did a double take. Or maybe a triple-take. It was hard to tell because her brain couldn’t reconcile what her eyes were trying to tell her.

It was as though she’d stepped in front of a mirror. Rune was identical to her, right down to the freckles on her nose and the slight cowlick at her left temple, the one no amount of hair gel could ever tame. Cara stared, unblinking, at the girl, who didn’t seem at all shocked by their freakish physical resemblance. Rune simply looked her up and down, tipping her head at Cara’s hips as if asking herself
Do my thighs really look that big?

Then it clicked. This was Cara 2.0. A replicate. Since Jaxen couldn’t have the real thing, he’d created an “improvement” to bend to his will.

But wait. That was impossible.

Even with her stolen DNA, it would take nine months to incubate a clone, and then an infant would emerge from the womb, not a fully-grown seventeen-year-old girl. No one could generate an instant carbon copy of a human being. Cloning didn’t work that way.

“What did you do?” Cara mumbled, still transfixed by her own face, which was now glaring back at her in annoyance.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jaxen asked, and turned to admire the girl. “I cloned you. I admit; I had some help. The Aribol possess remarkable technology, among which is the ability to manipulate the aging process.”

Cara remembered her conference call with Zane and how he’d seemed to recognize her before they’d met. Now it made sense. He’d helped create the clone, and in return, Jaxen had agreed to wreak havoc on Earth—something he probably would’ve done for free. What she didn’t understand was why the Aribol thought they needed him.

“I’m pleased with the results,” Jaxen said, even as he straightened the clone’s braid and brushed the front of her tunic as if unsatisfied. “I was afraid she would be too different from you—that she wouldn’t have your spark. But she does. Her passion is so fierce it rivals even your own. So I named her Rune.”

Improvement
.

Cara huffed a sarcastic laugh. “This is what you consider an upgrade? She can’t even read.” Her voice raised a pitch as hysteria set in. “And in no timeline of any alternate dimension should there exist a version of me who is illiterate!”

Jaxen shrugged. “She’s young. Just a few months old.” His hand wandered down her back and settled low—disturbingly low—at the base of her spine. “I’ve been using that time to teach her … other skills.”

Cara gasped so hard she nearly collapsed her own lungs. “You sick, perverted pig!”

In true Jaxen form, he threw back his head and filled the warehouse with echoes of laughter. It went on and on, his ribs shaking until he cradled his stomach as if the hilarity had given him a cramp. “
Cah
-ra,
Cah
-ra,
Cah
-ra,” he said, wagging an index finger at her. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was referring to her motor skills, like walking and hand control. I can use my talents to transfer concepts to her mind, but still, these things take practice.”

Suddenly, there was a blur of flesh, and a fist connected with Cara’s eye. Her head snapped back, and she stumbled, only to take another punch to the mouth and fall to the concrete floor, where she landed hard on her ass.

“Oh, yes,” Jaxen added. “I also taught her to fight. She’s quite good at it.”

Cara dabbed at her lip, tasting blood. She glared at her clone, and Rune glowered back while angling her body toward Jaxen, clearly irritated that another girl had amused him. Cara 2.0 was a cast-iron bitch. But instead of giving in to her temper, Cara forced herself to stay calm. She doubted she could reason with Jaxen, but she might be able to stall him long enough for Aelyx and Troy to find her.

“Whatever you taught her,” she said from the floor, “she still isn’t me.”

“In time she’ll be better than you,” Jaxen murmured while preening the clone. “So much better.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Cara pretended to rub her sore tailbone while pressing the com-sphere in her pocket, issuing a group summons. “Why are you doing this—helping the Aribol? I thought you wanted to fight them.”

“Well, that was before The Way turned against me, wasn’t it?”

“In all fairness, you turned against them first.”

“Irrelevant.” Jaxen flicked his wrist dismissively. “The point is Aisly and I had few options. We found an emissary probe, and our partial Aribol genetics allowed us to access its contact function. So we proposed an alliance of sorts. As you humans say, politics makes for strange bedfellows.”

“So you’re not brainwashed?”

He laughed. “My mind can’t be compromised,
Cah
-ra. It’s another benefit of my genetics.”

“But you told me you loved Earth.”

“I do. That’s why I’m here: to make sure it’s not destroyed.”

“By terrorizing my people and brainwashing the president?”

“By keeping humans compliant,” he specified, as if there were a difference. “You can’t deny mankind has a turbulent history. Once you send Aelyx and the other L’eihrs back where they belong, the threat will be over.”

Somehow Cara doubted that. She was willing to bet the hybrids’ deal with the Aribol included a position of power on Earth. They wouldn’t leave this planet so easily.

“Otherwise I’ll kill every one of them that remains.”

Now
that
she believed.

A beep sounded from a band around Rune’s wrist. “It’s time,” she said in L’eihr.

Jaxen nodded and told her, “Meet Aisly at the ship. I’ll be there soon.”

The clone jogged across the room and jumped out the nearest loading bay, then vanished behind the trailers parked on the lot. After she’d gone, Jaxen crouched down until he was eye-level with Cara. He regarded her with a bittersweet regret that reminded her of a guy gazing at his ex after a few too many beers.

“
Cah
-ra,” he said softly, reaching for her cheek before pulling back. “Despite the fact that I’ve replaced you, I still believe the universe is a better place with you in it. That’s why I’m going to advise you to leave.” He glanced at a digital clock on the wall. “Within the next sixty seconds, to be exact.” He stood and backed toward the loading bay. “I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

Then he disappeared out the bay door, and Cara thought back to the words she’d overheard earlier:
put them there
…
along the support walls
…
nothing left standing.

She scrambled to her feet. It was a demolition.

Aelyx skidded to a halt at the mouth of the hallway with Troy right behind him. “You were supposed to stay …” He trailed off, squinting into the distance. “Is that Jaxen?”

Cara ran past him and snagged his sleeve. “Back to the shuttle! The building’s about to blow!”

She tore through the factory, her bare feet slapping on the floor. Boots clomped from behind and quickly overtook her. Soon Troy was leading the way while Aelyx kept pace with her. As soon as they reached the front parking lot, he threw her over one shoulder and bounded across the blazing asphalt.

Elle and Syrine must’ve received the summons, because the shuttle doors were already open. Aelyx tossed Cara into the backseat, then took his place in front along with Troy. In moments, the doors sealed shut and the craft lifted off the parking lot.

No sooner had they risen above the treetops than an explosion boomed from the factory and sent the shuttle careening in the other direction. Cara collided with knees and elbows as they rolled over and over. Once Aelyx righted the craft, they rose above the hail of flaming debris, and Cara glanced out the window at what little remained of Nitrate Solutions.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked. “That was worse than I thought.”

Elle wriggled out from beneath her and rotated a stiff shoulder. “Larish said fertilizer was made here. It’s highly explosive.”

“Fertilizer?” Cara wrinkled her forehead. “Why would Jaxen care about that?”

“War strategy,” Troy said. “First you divide your enemy from their allies. Then you remove the essentials—like food. Without fertilizer, our crops won’t be able to …” He paused when he caught a glimpse of Cara. “Whoa, Pepper, who did that to your face?”

Aelyx whipped around, his silver gaze wide.

Cara gently probed her swollen eye. “Would you believe me if I said … me?”

Troy lifted a shoulder. “Stranger things have happened. A couple hours ago, the president gave you a proper beatdown.”

She told them about Jaxen and the clone he’d created with Aribol technology.

For a moment, Aelyx went quiet.
Angry
quiet. “The clone could have killed you. Why didn’t you wait for me like you said you would?”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t,” she argued. “Jaxen’s the one who warned me about the explosion.”

He released a breath through his flaring nostrils. “Well, regardless, now that we know he’s been to the Aribols’ home planet, all we have to do is find his flight log.”

“And then what?” demanded Syrine. “Transmit the coordinates to the Voyagers so they can go there and provoke a war?”

Cara shook her head. “So they can go there and negotiate. Or find a weakness to exploit. Or do
something
besides sit back and let the hybrids take over. We just need more time to—”

“What we
need
is to admit we’re outmatched,” Syrine insisted. “You can stay here and chase Jaxen. I want to go home.”

Cara looked to Aelyx for support and discovered one corner of his lips curved ever-so-slightly upward. She knew that scheming grin. He’d worn the same one last month when he’d tricked a group of human colonists, herself included, into believing a nutrient-rich dip called
n’ala
was exactly like hummus. He’d conveniently forgotten to mention the main ingredient was insect paste.

“Syrine is right,” he said. “It’s time to give the Aribol what they want. First thing tomorrow we’re boarding the transport home.”

Chapter Eight

T
he moon had risen in a sliver of radiance over upstate New York, but the suburban streets were no less crowded as people left their homes to enjoy a respite from the scorching heat of day. For the last few minutes, Aelyx had been watching them. Perhaps it was paranoia, but he perceived a heightened sense of alertness in their strides, an urgency when they spoke to one another. He wondered how many of them believed the president, and how many had the mental tenacity to question their leader.