Lotus and Thorn (23 page)

Some of the plants were enormous, swollen past the point of believability. Others were dead and dying. And still others looked perfectly normal. “For a while I had to battle it out with the flys . . . trying to get them to leave my plants alone. I finally had
to suppress the electromagnetic field in this whole area, like an invisible fence.”

I was amazed and a little confused at how much work Nik had put into this. “But if the Curadores can’t even leave the Dome without isolation suits, and the Dome is breaking down, I don’t understand how crops out in Tierra Muerta are going to help you.”

“About five or six years ago, Edison and I realized we couldn’t repair the Dome’s systems like Jenner had hoped. Even if we somehow figured out the computer’s architecture, we still wouldn’t have access to modify it. When we told Jenner, he went quiet. I’d seen him angry before, but never like this.” And Nik seemed to cringe away from the words even as he said them. His huge body drawing in on itself. “He said he couldn’t believe that he’d made such weak, stupid creatures. That in surrendering so readily to failure, we’d also surrendered our reason to exist. You can’t imagine what it was like.”

But of course, I
could
imagine. I squeezed Nik’s hand, wishing I could communicate my shared pain. Jenner was Nik and Edison’s “God.” He’d created them only to deem them
Indigno
. Only Jenner hadn’t needed to exile Nik; he’d done it to himself.

“After that, we were desperate to prove ourselves. So we stopped looking for ways to fix the system and started looking for ways to escape it. And that’s where we disagreed. Edison wants to create a Curador that can live beyond the walls of the Dome. But from what I’ve seen, I’m not really sure the Curadores
deserve
to leave this place.”

“Then how do you intend on saving your people?”

“I don’t. I’m not really convinced it can even be done . . . at least not in Edison’s ‘nursery.’ We’ve been isolated from the world for too long.
But
 . . . if I can find a way for your people to be
self-sufficient before this whole Dome falls apart, then at least someone on Gabriel will survive.”

As Nik talked, the scraps and bits and pieces I’d learned about him came into focus. He was like the Indignos—dreaming a beautiful dream. Saving what he could. Trying to bring a desert back to life.

For the first time since I’d got here, I really let myself think about my sister, who was still out in that desert, and the home I’d almost had. If the Indignos were lucky, the corn in the fields would be harvested by now. The tree cuttings they planted would have rooted and sprouted leaves and probably lost them again.

What would Lotus make of my long absence? Would she think I was lost to the Dome? Would she think I was sick? Or dead like Tasch? And my chest ached thinking of her. It had been different when I’d been an exile. I’d had no hope—no real expectation to see my sisters again—and I’d managed to lock that part of myself away.

But now Lotus was waiting for me. The Indignos were counting on me to stop whatever was going on here. And all I had to show for my time were questions and forgotten months. More than anything, I just
missed
Lotus. “I wish my sister could see this.”

“Maybe she will someday. Maybe all of Gabriel will look like this,” he said.

I stood next to him looking at all the green around us, looking at the vision of it playing across Nik’s passionate face. A cascade of yellow glittering in his eyes. Nik had already created such extraordinary things . . . maybe he could do this too. Maybe Gabriel
could
be the home I’d dreamed of. And a tiny hope sparked in my heart.

Nik’s voice was low when he spoke again, like he was afraid to break the spell. “I wish I’d been born a Citizen . . . I wish I’d met you at one of your Festivals.”

“If you were a Citizen, you’d hate me. You’d hate my Corruption.” And the idea of that hurt me.

“No. I don’t think I would.” Nik took my wrong-fingered hand in his and faced me. “I wish I’d seen you fight in that ring and gotten up the courage to talk to you afterward.”

“I never fought at the Festivals. They wouldn’t allow—”

But Nik didn’t let me finish. “More than anything, I wish you didn’t belong to Edison.”

“I don’t belong to Edison.” The truth of my words rang through me. I was not Edison’s Kisaeng. Or the Abuelos’ Corruption. Or the Indignos’ spy. I was only Leica.

A crease cut across his forehead like it was splitting him apart. And I thought of last night, the feeling of his hand on my body. It had shaken me, not just because of the unexpected intimacy of the moment, but because of the pure spontaneity of the gesture. The unthinking kindness of it.

Echoing his gesture, I reached up, smoothing his forehead. Resting my hand against his cheek. Nik was shaking under my touch, the feel of him tremoring through me.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” And I kissed Nik—not because there was some kind of secret sameness about us. In fact, I wasn’t sure I really understood who Nik was yet. But I
wanted
to understand him.

And the kiss was not a dizzying, devouring fire.

It was the morning sunlight stroking my body. It was roasting agave and cinnamon. It was solid ground under my feet.

But when I opened my eyes again, it all disappeared. Because there she was. Watching from the trees.

Marisol.

MARISOL HELD MY EYES,
letting the smile spread across her face. Only then did she turn and run.

I didn’t think, I just went after her. Racing through the trees. Branches tearing at my dress.

Nik shouted something, but I couldn’t hear what it was. God knows what I’d do when I caught Marisol. All I knew was I needed to stop her. I needed to know why she’d followed me. What she’d heard. And what she was planning on doing about it.

She’d gotten a good head start. But I was stronger. And more appropriately dressed. I gained ground as her sculpted red hair tangled in the low-hanging branches and her heels sank into the soft leaves. Halfway to the Promenade, I managed to catch up, bringing my foot down on the train of her dress—sending her sprawling.

“Whhhhy are you—” I dropped to my knees next to her, gasping, clutching a cramp in my side. “Why are you following me?”

I was ready for Marisol to bully and mock me. I was ready for her to threaten to tell Edison about Nik. I was
not
ready for what she said.

“You should let the Dome keep its secrets, Leica. You won’t like what you find.” Marisol wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What do you mean?” I was still catching my breath. Trying to understand what was happening.

Marisol leapt to her feet, quicker than I’d imagined possible. “I kept my eyes open when I first came here too. Looking for opportunities, ways to get the upper hand. And I learned the hard way that it’s better to keep your eyes closed when it comes to the Dome. And to Edison.”

I got to my feet to face her. Marisol’s retribution for this morning had come swifter than I’d anticipated and I wondered exactly how far she was willing to go to stay alpha dog. “Come on, you know me better than that. Ominous warnings aren’t going to scare me off.”

The color drained from her face and she spit the words at me. “You might amuse him.You might be intriguing enough to keep his bed warm. But nothing more. Nothing real.”

“And I suppose Edison
loves
you?” We were circling each other—like at the beginning of a fight—our words jabbing, testing the air between us.

“You think this is about love?” She laughed, a kind of high-pitched shriek. “You think he believes you’re special? How
could
he? You’re nothing but a Citizen.” Marisol smiled, but it was full of poison. “A Corruption!”

“Is this your strategy to win back the Sanctum? Ugly words?” Then I saw something in her face, pain tucked behind her hatred. Clearly, this wasn’t
all
about power. This wasn’t even all about me.

Marisol was still looking at me, but I got the sense that she was talking to herself now. “Deep down, you already know something
isn’t right. Have you noticed none of the Kisaengs are pregnant? Doesn’t that seem strange to you? Considering our role here?”

“What are you saying?” My voice was hard, as if its edge could protect me against whatever weapons Marisol had in her arsenal.

“Come on. You’re a smart girl. You
know
what I’m saying. I know you’ve already found the scar . . . we
all
find it. It just takes a while for us to admit what it means.”

All her posing and bravado dropped away, and the forest’s shadows turned her face gaunt. This was
not
the same Marisol I’d grown up with.
This
Marisol still had a bold glint in her eyes, but it was only a trick of the light. Beneath it, her hazel eyes were dead. The Curadores had cut out her core.

“No.” But my hand drifted to my stomach. Covering the scar.

The worst part is that Marisol was right. I
had
known. I’d seen it in Marisol’s eyes that morning as she’d watched the children—children she would never have.

I’d never really thought about kids one way or another—never imagined I’d find anyone in Pleiades willing to risk my Corruption. I mean, who wants children cursed by God? But still . . . it had always been there. This future piece of me still unknown and unrealized.

“Is it permanent?” My voice was a whisper.

Marisol didn’t answer. Brushing a dead leaves off her dress, she turned and headed back toward the Promenade. After a few steps, she called back to me, “Why don’t you go ask Edison?”

• • •

But I didn’t ask Edison about the scar. I didn’t ask him anything. He was quiet during dinner in the Pavillion and I was too. Being careful. I didn’t know if Marisol had told him about this kiss. I wasn’t even
completely sure of her motives anymore. As I watched him chew his curry in silence—his face stony—I realized I was scared.

The feeling caught me off guard. I’d been cautious of Edison before, but I’d never truly believed we were on different sides. But the secrets were piling up between us. Edison had watched me
for years
through Grimm’s eyes, and the longer he went without telling me, the more disturbing that idea became. Now there was the scar. Marisol was right, you couldn’t live in the Dome long without noticing that none of the Kisaengs were pregnant. Edison must at least be aware of whatever they’d done to me. And then there was Nik . . . and the kiss.

Was I truly capable of playing the Kisaeng with Edison any longer?

Marisol’s words came back to me:
You’d better figure out what you want and who’s going to get that for you.

Well, the idea that the Curadores were willing to sterilize Kisaengs because we were unfit made the idea of them infecting Citizens quite convincing. The sooner I discovered what’d happened to Tasch, the sooner I could keep it from happening to anyone else. And for that, I still needed Edison. For now, at least.

I wiped my mouth with my napkin for the hundredth time, feeling like he must be able to see Nik’s kiss there.

My movement caught Edison’s eye and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry! I’m terrible company tonight. I was just thinking about the damn radio. I’ve been triple-checking everything, all afternoon . . . everything seems clean and undamaged and in the right place. But all I get is static! It’s like we’re missing a piece. Like someone doesn’t want us to succeed. So I was thinking that tonight we should—”

But I cut him off, remembering my late-night appointment with Grimm. “Actually, I think I should go to bed early. I’m exhausted.”

“I bet!” Edison said. “Sounds like you had a full day.”

I squeezed my balled-up napkin.
Does he know about my trip into Nik’s woods? About the kiss?

But Edison smiled indulgently. “I heard you and the Kisaengs were fighting again.”

“Sparring,” I corrected, and I ordered myself to relax.

“Well, whatever you call it, you and the girls are causing quite the stir among the Curadores.” His amused tone made me bristle. He misread my irritation for tiredness and, pushing away his bowl, he said, “Let me walk you home.”

I allowed him to take my arm as we set off across the grassy Promenade. I racked my brain for something to say. “Did you find out anything about the Mothers?”

“Huh?” Clearly Edison was still lost in thoughts of the radio.

“The accident . . . down in the Salvage Hall?”

“Oh, it was nothing.” He hit the button to call the magfly. “Jenner tracked the problem to the main computer . . . another power fluctuation in the magnetic field.”

“But I saw her—”

“Must’ve been just coincidence.” The drone of the arriving magfly competed with his words. “Probably just a case of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

That didn’t explain the device the Mother had been holding. What if Jenner was lying to Edison about the power fluctuations? What if Edison was lying to me?

I had so many questions and they all came back to the endless chorus of:
Why?
What did the Mother in the Salvage Hall, Olivia
going missing, my scar, and Taschen’s death all have to do with each other?

What if it was nothing? What if these weren’t even pieces to the same puzzle? My head hurt and I rubbed it as I stepped onto the magfly. “But I thought the Mothers didn’t usually go . . .”

Then I noticed that Edison hadn’t moved, hadn’t gotten onto the magfly with me. And there was a strange look on his face. “I just thought of something! With the radio . . . I’ve got to . . . I’m gonna go back . . .”

Before he could finish, the doors were sliding shut—cutting off his words. And then the magfly was on its way, gliding through the streets of the Dome without him.

• • •

I fell asleep wondering about Edison’s sudden inspiration. Had he really had an idea, or had he just been avoiding my questions? Then again, did it matter? Either way, it had allowed me to go home on my own.

Now, as I woke, deep in the night, I hoped that Grimm might be able to help me see something in the Dome I was missing. I slipped on my clothes and looked out the balcony window. The backyard was quiet and empty, stretching back to the trees.

I’d gotten used to the fact that everything in the Dome was circular—the streets, the magfly tracks, the Garden—and that meant those trees were also the edge of Nik’s woods. As I headed into them, I kept expecting Grimm to show up. But when he didn’t, I found my own way easily enough—though the woods felt less friendly without him.

I heard the shouting long before I could see the house. Angry voices traveling though the forest.

“
That’s
why you asked me to come? Do you know what I risked to get here?” It was a woman’s voice.

I hurried as fast as I could without making noise. When I got to the edge of the clearing, I recognized her. In the glow of Nik’s house, I could see that it was the Mother I’d seen in the Salvage Hall—her white-blond hair pulled into same high bun, and the same tunic dress. But tonight the fabric was stretched over a much smaller bump. And I remembered how the data drive had disappeared into the vast folds of her tunic. Clever—using her pregnancy to disguise her smuggling.

The Mother’s freckles popped dark against her angry face. “We’ve just been raided. Edison found out about me sneaking into the Salvage Hall to test our device and brought the wrath of the Dome down on us. Equipment seized. Surveillance raised. And now you ask me to risk everything we’ve been working on so I can help a Kisaeng?”

“Ada, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Nik looked miserable and Grimm flew in desperate circles around their heads.

“Of course you didn’t. You just stay in your little bubble. Leave the danger to us.” The Mother—Ada—spit the words at him. She looked terrifying and beautiful even in her scorn.

“You know I can’t leave—” Nik’s voice broke and her face crumpled. Her rage disintegrating into weariness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” And she took Nik’s hand, leading him into his house.

I turned as quietly as I could and melted back into the woods.

That woman—Ada—
had
been responsible for what happened in the Salvage Hall. And despite what he’d told me, Edison had known that. In fact, he’d raided the Mother’s Complex.

And Nik. Nik was somehow involved with this Ada and her sabotage.

I walked back through the woods, heading toward the Genetics Lab. Turns out, sometimes the only person who can get you what you want is you.