Fragments (57 page)

“It’s really just a modification of my own work on the life cycle,” he said. “I designed
the Partials to accelerate to a certain age and then sit there, freezing the aging
process by continually regenerating their DNA. At the twenty-year mark, that process
reverses, and the DNA is actively degenerated. They’re essentially aging a hundred
years in a matter of days.”

“Samm didn’t say they age,” said Kira, “they just . . . decay. Like they’re rotting
alive.”

“The effect is the same at that speed,” said Vale. “It’s not the nicest way to die,
but it was the most elegant, biologically speaking.”

Kira furrowed her brow, still searching for the stray pieces to complete the puzzle.
“How did you keep the expiration a secret from Morgan?”

“ParaGen was a maze of secrets,” said Vale. “Nobody trusted anybody else, and the
board of directors trusted our primary scientists even less. That’s why we had to
build two Failsafes.”

Kira raised her eyebrow. “Two?”

“A Partial killer, like they wanted, and the human flu that Graeme and Nandita built
as part of our plan. The Partial Failsafe was never put into production, of course,
but I still created it, as a cover for the rest of our plan. The board could see the
Partial Failsafe, could get progress reports and testing data, and content themselves
that we were following orders; meanwhile, the other Failsafe is what we eventually
incorporated into the mass-produced Partial models.”

“Wait,” said Kira. She opened her backpack and rooted around for the old computer
handle from Afa’s broken screen—the one with all the info they’d downloaded in Chicago.
“Do you have a monitor I can plug this into?”

“Of course.” He offered her a cable, and she powered up the handle.

“Before we came here,” she said, “we pulled a bunch of records from a data center
in Chicago. One of them was a memo from the ParaGen chief executive officer to the
board of directors; we read it because it mentioned the Failsafe, but it didn’t make
sense at the time. In light of what you just said, though . . .” The list of files
appeared on the screen, and Kira scrolled through it quickly, looking for the one
sent by the CEO of ParaGen. “Here.” She opened it and read the pertinent line: “‘We
cannot confirm that the Partial team is working to undermine the Failsafe project,
but just in case, we’ve hired engineers to imbed the Failsafe in the new models. If
the team betrays us, the Failsafe will still deploy.’”

Vale’s jaw dropped. “They went behind our backs.”

“That’s all we thought when we read it,” said Kira, “but after what you’ve told me,
it’s got to be more than that—if the board didn’t know about the human Failsafe, then
the only one they could add to the new models was your decoy. The one that kills Partials.
That means it might still be out there, and if it kills the Partials, it will kill
everyone, since that’s our only source for the cure.”

“True,” said Vale. “But look at the time stamp: July 21, 2060. That was two full years
after the final batch of military Partials was created. I can only imagine that this
email referred to the line of Partials that was never put into mass production.”

“New models . . .,” said Kira, trailing off.
It’s me,
she thought.
That’s what I am—a new Partial model. That’s even the year I was born, five years
before the Break. It’s talking about me.

I’m carrying the Partial Failsafe.

“You look terrified,” said Vale.

Kira brushed her hair from her face, trying to control her breathing. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Kira looked at the ten Partial prisoners lying inert on their tables.
If something triggers me, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill Samm.
She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice. “What was the trigger?”

“For the Failsafe? It was triggered by a chemical, administered either through the
air or by a direct injection. Only some of the Partials were carriers—viral factories,
essentially, that could be turned on at a specific moment. We could turn on the cure
the same way.”

“Yes,” said Kira, “but what is the trigger? Specifically? And would it be the same
for the new models?”

“None of that matters,” said Vale. “The president triggered the Failsafe to stop the
Partial rebellion, and when I saw how vicious RM had become I triggered the cure.
It’s over and done. Those new models that were mentioned in the email were only prototypes,
and as far as I know, none of them survived the Break. They were young children at
the time.”

“But what if they did survive?” asked Kira.
What if something triggers her accidentally, and she destroys every Partial left on
the planet?

Vale stared at her, his face confused and pensive. Slowly his expression changed,
and Kira couldn’t help but take a step backward.

Vale took a step back as well. “You said you lived with Nandita, right?” he asked.
“An orphanage. How exactly did she find the girls she adopted?”

Kira watched his face warily, trying to guess if he’d guessed what she really was.
He seemed suspicious, but how much did he know for sure? How much did he need to know
before he acted—and what actions would he take? If he thought she was a threat, would
he kill her right here?

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t give herself
away.
I can’t look like I know too much,
she thought,
but I can’t look like I’m dodging the topic, either.
“She had four girls,” she said. “She found us the same way as every other foster
parent on the island. I think some of us were assigned by the Senate.” She wasn’t
sure if it was true, but it sounded good without professing any specific knowledge.
“Why do you ask?”

“Some were assigned,” he said, “but not all?”

“Nandita raised us like any other kids,” she said, but suddenly Marcus’s questions
about experiments flashed through her mind.
That’s it, it’s me,
she thought,
it makes too much sense.

He watched her closely, taking another step back. Kira glanced over his shoulder—was
he backing away from a threat, or slowly inching toward an alarm?
How much time do I have?
The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, and she felt a thick bead of
sweat run down the small of her back.

“Do you realize,” he asked softly, “how much damage the Partial Failsafe could do
in the open at this point? To the Preserve, to East Meadow, to the entire world?”

“Please,” said Kira, “think about what you’re doing—” But it was the wrong thing to
say, and Kira knew the instant the words were out of her mouth that a plea was as
good as a confession. Vale spun around, diving for the table behind him, and Kira
didn’t even wait to see what he was reaching for. She turned and ran, sprinting as
fast as she could from the room. A gunshot rang out behind her, and sparks flew from
the door frame just inches from her head. She ducked around the corner and hurtled
toward the end of the hall.

There were more shots behind her, but she was faster than he was, and already too
far away for his unpracticed aim. She stumbled around each corner, barely slowing
to change direction, racing back to the elevator shaft she’d come down through. Only
when she reached it did she realize she’d left her computer handle back in the lab,
plugged into Vale’s computer. “No time,” she muttered, leaping onto the ladder and
hauling herself up. “I’ll come back for it later.” She might be able to take Vale—she
might, depending on his gene mods—but he could have sounded an alarm by now, and called
for backup, and she couldn’t face the entire Preserve. Her only hope was to get to
Samm and carry him out, before anyone on the outside knew what was going on.

But how far would she have to take him before they escaped the sedative’s influence?
And how long before the dose in his system wore off?

She reached the second floor and clambered out through the elevator door, still wedged
half-open. Samm lay nearby, right where she’d left him, and she pulled his backpack
on over her own before heaving him to his feet. He hung limp and heavy from her arms,
two hundred pounds of muscle turned to dead, useless weight. She threw his arm over
her shoulders and lifted, grunting with the effort, listening all the time for noise
of pursuit. There was nothing behind her, and she couldn’t hear anything outside.
She hobbled to the stairs, half carrying and half dragging Samm. She reached the ground
floor and leaned against a wall to rest, looking out across the overgrown clearing
that surrounded the spire. There were two people talking to the west, resting in the
shade by one of the makeshift apartment buildings, but they didn’t seem to be on alert.
Kira readjusted her grip on Samm and hauled him through the lobby to the other side
of the building, slipping out the eastern edge where no one was waiting. The ground
was uneven, broken by roots and gopher holes, and she was forced to move slowly with
Samm weighing her down.

If only I knew where the horses were,
she thought, but there was no time to find them. If she carried the Partial Failsafe,
then it could mean the death of Vale’s Partials, the death of the Preserve, and the
eventual death of all humans and Partials. Kira was a living bomb, and destroying
her before she went off would supersede every other goal he had. He would sacrifice
his secrecy, his authority, whatever it took to preserve the human race. She had to
escape or die.

She reached the end of the clearing just as a man came around the corner of the nearest
building. He stopped in surprise; she clenched her teeth, nearly borne down by Samm’s
weight, and forged past him. “Hello,” he said. “Is he okay?”

“He fainted,” said Kira. “He just needs some fresh air.”
We just need to get to the gate,
she thought,
just reach the gate and we’ll be fine.

“You’re the newcomers,” he said, matching pace with her. “Were you in the spire?”

“We’re just out walking,” said Kira, looking ahead. Another clearing loomed before
them, and another building, and beyond that the fence and the edge of the city.
If we can just get to the city, we can hide . . . but I need to get rid of this guy.
“Do you know Calix?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Find her,” said Kira, “and tell her we left a valuable medicine in our bags in her
room—a red bottle, wedge-shaped, with a green ring around the lid.” It was an antibiotic,
but this man didn’t need to know that; she just needed to draw him away. The man nodded
and ran off, and Kira struggled on. She reached the next building, and now there were
more people around, adults and children.
Just a hundred feet,
she thought.
We’re almost there.
A few of the people asked about Samm, their faces concerned, and Kira did her best
to play it off without attracting more attention, but the crowd began to grow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where are you going?”

“What’s happening?”

And then another voice, in the distance behind them. “Stop them!” The crowd looked
up, confused. Kira pushed through them. “Stop them!” the voice cried again, and Kira
recognized it as Vale. She kept walking, struggling to keep Samm from falling. A woman
in the crowd grabbed her arm.

“Dr. Vale wants you to stop,” she said.

Kira drew her gun, and the woman backed off quickly. “Dr. Vale wants to kill us. Just
let us leave.”
Only fifty feet.

The woman retreated, hands up, and Kira crept forward, hunched far to the side to
keep Samm’s weight centered over her. She clung to him with one hand, dragging him
forward and warding off the crowd with her gun. She stole a glance behind her and
saw Vale approaching with a group of armed hunters.

Samm groaned, groggy but awake. “Where are we?”

“We’re in bad trouble,” said Kira. “Can you walk?”

“What’s going on?”

“Just trust me. Wake up.”

“Stop them!” shouted Vale again. “They’re spies, come to destroy the Preserve.”

“We’re leaving,” said Kira through clenched teeth, struggling step by step for the
open gate. Samm was still leaning on her heavily, trying to walk but too unsteady
to do it effectively. The townsfolk hadn’t stepped in to stop her, still wondering
what to do. “Just let us go.”

“Let them go and they’ll return with a thousand more like them,” said Vale. “They’re
Partials.”

Samm’s speech was slurred. “So the recon trip didn’t go as planned?”

“You’re not helping,” said Kira. “Can you walk yet?”

Samm tried to stand up, reeling slightly, and fell back onto Kira’s shoulder. “Not
well.”

“Is it true?” asked a voice. Kira turned to see Phan, and the look of betrayal on
his face struck Kira through the heart.

“I’m a person,” she said. “The Partials—”

“The Partials destroyed the world,” said Vale, catching up to them. “And now they’re
here, trying to finish the job.”

“You’re lying,” Kira hissed. “You destroyed it, and now you’re living in a fantasy,
trying to pretend like the past never happened.”

“Don’t listen to their deceptions,” said Vale.

The crowd moved in on them, the open path to the gate become smaller and smaller as
the crowd closed in. Kira swung her gun around wildly, trying to balance Samm with
her other arm. “Please, Samm, I need you to wake up.”

“I’m awake,” he said, the crowd now mere feet away from them. “I can walk.”

Kira let go of him, and he stayed steady enough. “We have to—”

Vale fired.

“I
apologize for my absence,” said Nandita. “I was trying to save the world.” She stood
in the living room of her old house—the one Ariel had run away from so many years
ago, and swore she’d never come back to.

Ariel clenched her fists and snapped back. “You lied to us before,” she said. “What
makes you think we’ll believe you now?”

“Because you’re adults now,” said Nandita, “or close enough. Children need to be protected
from the truth, but teenage girls need to face it.”