Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (45 page)

"Sorry about this, Juno," the figure says, lifting a familiar weapon–used on the Deacons back in that alley in Everwinter City. The figure pulls the trigger and a whooshing sound is the result. Pain erupts in my shoulder and I barely have time to register the dart sticking out of it.

I fall onto my back the world going hazy...

"Sorry about this," he says again. 

The last thing I see before I pass out is Jude's sincerely apologetic face hovering over me.

62.

I love you, Juno Quinn...

I open my eyes.

"Despite everything that's happened, I still love you with everything I've got."

My vision's blurry.

The first thing I notice is that I can't move.

I can feel my hands above me, locked into something over my head. My feet are spread apart, equally locked. I can't move a muscle.

"I don't expect you to feel the same way. Not right now. But maybe, given time..."

The voice trails off.

His face is indistinct, but I know that it's Jude. I snarl and I spit, not knowing if I'm anywhere close to my target. When I hear a cry of disgust, I know that I got him. Jude's blurry form makes an aggressive movement toward me.

"That's enough, Jude!" another familiar voice calls out.
 

"
Father?" I ask, bewildered. I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

My vision is resolving slowly, revealing a crestfallen Jude moving aside to let the familiar visage of my
Father enter my sight. He looks a lot older than the last time I saw him.

When was that? Two months ago? Three?

I truly can't remember.

My old home in Krakelyn seems like a distant dream now.

"It's me, Juno," Father answers. "I'm here."

"What's going on?" I ask, struggling against whatever's holding me back. I look up now and can make out large metal cuffs secured to each of my wrists, attached to something large behind me. A machine of some sort. I can hear it whirring and beeping.

"You're safe now," my Father answers, deftly sidestepping the question. "Everything is going to be alright."

I shake my head. "Where are the others? Ursa and Altair. And Traylor!"

"I'm here," Ursa's meek voice floats to me from nearby. I strain my eyes to look past my Father. Ursa is indeed there, her eyes cast to the floor. She looks immensely ashamed.

"Altair and Traylor are safe," she says. She turns and looks across the room. I follow her gaze, my vision nearing normalcy now. It's dark in here, but I can tell it's a lab of some sort, with all sorts of high tech equipment, displays, and...

Telescopes!

The Evernight
Skytower!

I look up and see that the roof is a massive dome, covere
d in tiny white pinpricks taking on familiar patterns.

"Stars," my
Father explains to me. "Of course, we're not
really
seeing the sky in here. This Skytower, like everything else in Everwinter, is buried under layers of snow. The ceiling is just as illusion–what the sky would look like if it were visible from here."

I shake my head in bewilderment. Normally, I'd find this fascinating. I love astronomy! But not now.

"Where are Traylor and Altair?" I ask, ignoring my Father.

Ursa is still staring forlornly across the room. "There," she points.

I can't see anything because Jude is in my way. He steps aside, revealing a large glass box about fifty feet away, illuminated from within. Altair is inside, his hands pressed to the glass, staring back at me. The worry in his eyes makes me sick.

His lips open and close slowly: "
It's going to be okay,
" he mouths.

I can't hear him.

The glass box is a sealed container.

And he's not alone inside.

There's a large creature in the far corner, slumped down, head resting between its legs. One leg is wrapped with a hasty bandage, soaked blue from a wound of some sort.
A bullet wound.
The creature's skin is covered in fine, bluish-white hairs, the hair on its head shaved at the sides into twin mohawks. Its hands sport long, wicked black claws.

An Everwinter mutant.

"Pilcrow," I say aloud, stunned.

Altair is locked up with Pilcrow! Alone!

Altair notices my worry but shakes his head.

Pilcrow is not a threat
, his expression seems to read.

My anxiety doesn't subside, however.

"Where the hells is Traylor!" I demand, pulling at my bonds. The machine behind me whirrs a little louder.
It's the Cortex
, I realize for the first time.
The machine coded specifically to my DNA to cure mutations...

"He's resting, Juno," my
Father reassures with a hand on my shoulder. "He's had a rough day."

"What did you do to him?" I snarl, shirking my
Father's touch away.

"Nothing,"
Father reassures again. "He's perfectly fine, Juno. The Cortex didn't work on him, as I suspected. You only share 99% of your DNA with him, after all. It's a shame we never got to fully test the Cortex all those years ago before we had to flee Everwinter. We might have known not to bother with Traylor. Isn't that right, Ursa?" My Father turns toward my Mother, expecting an answer.

"There is no '
we
'," Ursa snidely replies. "I had nothing to do your kidnapping of Traylor!"

My
Father shrugs. "True," he says. "But you did help me with Juno here. Without you, I'd never have gotten the Cortex up and running properly."

Ursa laughs, pointing at my
Father's waist. "Right,” she sneers, “and
that
had nothing to do with it?"

I look down, seeing the holster attached to my
Father's hip. 

A shooting iron.

He'd forced Ursa to help him at shooter point!

"Ursa was right!" I snarl at my
Father. "You are a monster!"

Father
sighs, his gaze becoming sullen. "No matter how I try to justify it," he says, "I've struggled with that same realization myself, Juno. And I don't deny it. I've had to do many a cruel and terrible thing in the name of the True Body Plan. But it will end today. The Final Judgment has created a world doomed to extinction in little more than a decade if we don't do something about it.”

He pauses, clearing his throat.

“A decade?” I ask, confused. “I thought we had a century!”

“
So did I,” Father replies. “But I've discovered a few more things about our mutations since I first sent you on this mad quest, Juno." He pauses, caressing the crop of tumors that have sprouted up on his forehead. He didn't have those last I saw him.

"Not only is the human race
sterile, but cancerous. We all have it–excepting you and Traylor, of course. At first, we thought the growths were benign. But further testing has revealed the presence of malignancies in a majority of cases." He turns to Ursa again. "Isn't that right?"

Ursa, eyes still on the floor, nods meekly. "Yes," she confirms. "Everybody's got it. Some will last
it longer than others but..." She hesitates. "Ninety percent of the human population will be dead within the next decade, Juno. We have
much
less time left than we thought." 

I gasp, stunned.

Traylor and I really could be the last humans left on this planet!

"What about the Everwinter mutants?" I ask. "What will happen to them?"

"They will inherit the world," my Father answers. "Those humans who do manage to survive the cancerous plague will be at their mercy. And given the, um,
unsavory
history between our species, I think you can imagine what that will mean for them."

I shut my eyes, trying
not
to imagine it. 

But I can't.
 

I've read T
he Forerunner Archives. 

In the past, humans nearly destroyed the mutants of Everwinter, allowing them only to live on the frigid side of the planet, oppressing them with our sheer numbers. Without that advantage, w
e will be enslaved...or worse.

And Traylor and I will be around to see
it happen...

I'm silent, but my
Father can read my expression. "You see that there really is no other way, Juno. Millions will suffer needlessly. But you can save them. That's why your Mother and I built the Cortex. At first, it was just a way to cure mutations so that not another person had to suffer through a Judgment. Now, it can save us
all
from Judgment." 

My
Father stops talking finally, an awkward silence descending on the room. My eyes dart about, falling on Jude. He’s standing near the glass box, watching me intently. It irks me, but I can actually see the love in his eyes.

I hope he can see my hate.

Next, my gaze falls on Altair, still standing at the edge of his prison, staring at me forlornly, shaking his head. He looks at me in much the same way that Jude does. 

That must be my imagination.

Altair doesn't love me.

Not in the way Jude does, at least.

Pilcrow is still slumped in the corner, head hanging low between his legs. He could be dead for all I know.

Lastly, my eyes fall on Ursa.

She's crying now; sobbing, in fact. She won't look at me. My Mother. She's as much a part of this as my Father. But she's also a victim. A victim of the True Body Plan. If the Cortex can cure all mutations, then the True Body Plan will
truly
be irrelevant.

Mutations will be non-
existent. 

Why wouldn't I
want
to do this?

Because there's a catch they haven't told you about yet...

"What will happen to me?" I ask. The question directed at Ursa. “What will happen when the Cortex goes off?”

All eyes fall on my
Mother.

Ursa shakes her scarred, tumored head. Tears streak and fall from her cheeks.
"You'll die," she says, clearly having to force the words out.

It doesn't come as a shock to me.

Somehow, I'd been expecting it. 

A sudden
image flashes in my mind.

I see myself, my own dead body
–skin pale, lips blue, eyes shut–buried under snow. I feel like it's a memory. But how could I have a memory of seeing myself dead?

An out of body experience?
I wonder.

"You designed a machine that will kill me?" I ask, trying to hide my skepticism. "And you used it on Traylor already? What if it had worked?"

"The Cortex is a…
complicated
machine, Juno," Ursa replies. "I... I can't explain to you how or why. The truth would just make things worse, and I don't want that to be your last memory of this life. I'm sorry."

"Me too," I say, sighing long and deep. My eyes fall on the decrepit Pilcrow, still limp in his corner. Altair seems to be talking to him now
though... 

"One last thing," I say. "The Cortex. You said before it will cure
all
mutations. Does that include Everwinter mutants too?"

Ursa looks at my
Father, who nods. "We think so," Ursa replies. "We think it will make them all human once again."

I nod, my suspicions confirmed.
Everyone
in the world will be the same. No more mutations anywhere.

No more religion.
 Just a level playing field. 

World peace even
.

"Okay then," I say. "I'm ready. I'm willing to do this. I'm willing to die if
–"

CRRRAAACK!

The sound is deafening in the enclosed Evernight Skytower. We all look toward the source of the sound.

The glass box.

There's a massive crack in one wall, a shattered spider web.

"That's impossible!" my
Father declares. "That box is made of kimberlite! It's nearly indestructi–"

Pil
crow throws his massive frame against the glass a final time.

The box shatters.

63.

He opens his eyes.

Immediately, he has to shut them again.

The light in h
ere is bright, unnaturally white, and he thinks for a moment he must be experiencing snow blindness. It's a rare occurrence, but known to happen in the higher latitudes of the Fringes where the sun still shines in the sky but snow stays on the ground.