Lotus and Thorn (35 page)

I RAN THROUGH
the network of streets, my lungs choked with smoke and grief. But I felt strong too—like Tasch’s fire sizzled through my veins as well. I no longer had my tracker, so I was free to follow Edison now. But that was easier said than done. Even if I was right and he’d taken a magfly out to the Indigno camp, we’d just spent the last few hours bombing the hell out of tracks and taking down the Dome’s systems. I just hoped when I found Ada she’d have a better answer than walking.

And finding Ada in this wreck was going to be its own challenge. When I got to the Complex, the whole place was crackling like an enormous bonfire, and it wasn’t the only building burning. Water misted from the Dome ceiling—trying unsuccessfully to contain the blazes. I had to hope—I had to assume—that Ada and the Mothers made it safely to the Genetics Lab.

There were no streetlamps on anywhere, but I could see by the flicker of flames as I ran through the neighborhood toward the Lab and the Promenade. And what was worse than the fires was the silence. The emptiness. Other than the Curadores outside my house, I’d seen
no one
.

Then I heard the hiss. I followed the static, tracking it down one street, then another. Until there, sprawled on the dark asphalt, was Riya—a small radio gripped in her hand.

I dropped to my knees, scanning for a knife wound. For blood. There was nothing . . . but her body was
so still
and my voice shook as I called her name. Her eyes stayed closed, her face slack, but I swore her hand twitched.

Then she started seizing—terrible, violent convulsions. I pried the radio out of her hand, shouting into it, “Hello? I need help!”

Static roared its blank answer while I pulled Riya onto my lap, trying to keep her from hurting herself.

My voice sounded so tiny in the empty night. “Please! Anyone!”

But no one was coming. Adrenaline surged through me and I scooped Riya up, cradling her as I ran through the village toward the Genetics Lab. “You can’t have her too. I won’t let you!”

I turned down another street, following the magfly lines, and I saw them. My eyes didn’t register what they were at first. Piles of cloth. Heaps of salvage. I slowed to a walk, not wanting them to come into focus. There must have been thirty of them. Limp in the street.

Riya’s seizure had slowed to a quiver and I laid her gently on a stoop. Then I crept closer. They were gauzy bundles of fabric-draped women. Knives and fighting sticks still gripped in their hands. Some wore masks. Others were barefaced, eyes closed. But like Riya, there was no blood. No obvious injuries.

And there were Curadores too—dressed in their party finery. They were unmoving, but visibly unhurt as well. Like they had been fighting one minute, then dropped to the ground the next. It made no sense.

“Edison, what have you done?” my voice was a whisper. Then I felt the burning in my own lungs. More than grief or fear.

I hoisted Riya over my shoulder and I ran.

• • •

I was wheezing by the time I got to the Promenade. The grass was muddied and strewn with more bodies. Whatever had happened to theses people was clearly happening to me too. I dodged and leapt over them, my back aching from carrying my friend. Breath fighting its way in and out of my body. A movement caught my eye, and I ducked behind a bench just as a Curador in an isolation suit walked out of the ruins of the Sanctum.

He barely glanced around him as he crunched across the broken glass. He obviously wasn’t expecting any surprises. As I watched him cross the lawn—ground blue glass glittering in the path of his headlamp—something bothered me about the scene. I pulled off my mask to get a better look.

It was too dark.

The Promenade behind the Curador should have been lit up by the Genetics Lab. Had it been destroyed as well? But then surely there’d be fires or at least ruins. I saw nothing but blackness. Maybe the main computer had been destroyed and none of the systems were working anymore. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t breathe.

But as the Curador got close to where the Lab should be, his light strobed across the building, reflecting a dull sheen. As if someone had replaced the glass walls with a burnished black metal. Like the walls the flys had made when they’d sealed off the magfly accident.

The Curador was headed away from the Promenade now, and as he disappeared down a street, I ran—air clawing down my throat. I didn’t bother hiding anymore. My head was spinning, and if Riya
and I couldn’t get inside the Lab, then it didn’t matter
who
found us. But maybe if the flys had sealed this whole building up, the air inside might still be good. Ada and the Mothers might still be safe.

I readjusted my hold on Riya, and with the last of my energy pounded on the metal shell that encapsulated the entire Genetics Lab.

“Ada! Let me in!” There was no answer. I pounded again, sliding down the slick surface as my legs gave way. I braced myself with my free hand, trying to keep myself upright, and my fingers caught on a ridge.

I traced it, hoping it might be a crack—the edge of some sort of door. And in the dim light of the burning magfly, I saw it. An emblem formed into the metal, right where the door should be. The LOTUS flower.

I fumbled with Lotus’s necklace—my hands shaking so hard I could barely make them grip—pulling it off over my head. The same emblem glimmering in the same metal. And the number.

I flipped it over, trying to keep it in focus as my vision fuzzed around the edges.
A code.
Edison had used a code to get in the Labs.

But, of course, the keypad was unreachable too—on the other side of the seal. My throat and chest, my head, my muscles, my heart—all ached. Begging for oxygen.
Sometimes your opponent is stronger than you. And no matter how fast you are, or how smart you fight, you still can’t win.

“Dammit!” I hit the black metal barrier with all the strength I had left.

And the necklace in my fist quivered—the pendant pulling on its chain. Straining to close the distance between it and the other LOTUS.
But you still fight . . . in whatever way you can.

With a last shred of hope, I slammed my necklace into the LOTUS flower and the barrier began to hum—my body pulsing with the chorus of a thousand flys. The necklace was vibrating now too. The edges of the pendant melted, then fused with the wall, sending a ripple through the surrounding metal. Then the whole barrier was liquefying—a shimmering, living wall.

The metal began to ooze up and around my fingers, and remembering the Kisaeng who’d been trapped inside the magfly, I pulled away. But it was too late. The metal was already creeping up my arm. My shoulder. Cinching around my throat. And I could taste it now too. Metallic and bitter. I managed one last gasp before Riya and I were sucked into molten blackness.

THE LIGHT WAS BLINDING.
I squinted, trying to shield my eyes—it didn’t help. But I could breathe again and that was something. I sat up and checked on Riya, still unconscious on the floor next to me.

“Don’t move.”

I blinked, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the light. I was on the floor of the main room in the Genetics Lab. Screens flashed and flys flew in manic circles around the high ceiling. A woman I didn’t recognize pointed a long iron and wood rod at me. By the way she was holding it, I was sure it was a weapon.

“Can I at least see if she’s okay?” I motioned to Riya. The woman nodded, but I was already feeling for the faint pulse on Riya’s wrist. “She’s still alive, but I don’t know for how long. What happened out there?”

“I don’t think I’ll be the one answering questions right now.” The pale, stone-faced woman did something to her weapon and it made a
shick-shick
noise. She was wearing a hooped dress and I recognized Riya’s handiwork—she must be a Mother. “
No one
can get through that door . . . but you did. Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Leica, I need to speak to Ada
right now
.”

“Wrong answer.” She pointed the weapon just over my shoulder and fired, the glass behind me blowing apart. I threw my arms over my head, my ears ringing with the noise. “Don’t play games with me. Leica’s dead! Everyone out there is dead . . . except you. So you have one more chance before I shoot your head off. Who are you?”

After everything, I was going to die
here
,
now
, killed by allies. I put my hands in the air. “Please, look! Six fingers! I’m a friend!”

“Emmy, what the hell’s going on in here?” Ada ran into the room, addressing the Mother, who by now was already lowering her weapon. “We heard—”

“Leica!” June flew past Ada, descending on me. Hugging me tight. “We saw the fire and then your tracker stopped transmitting . . . we were sure you . . .” Her voice died out as she saw Riya.

“I found her like that. She’s stopped seizing, but I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Will someone please tell me what’s happening?”

“Edison initiated some kind of fail-safe and the flys sealed us inside here.” And Ada pointed to the screens, which all read:
Quarantine Established. Decontamination Protocol Reinitiated.
“It locked down all communications too. Judging by readouts from the filtration system, we think it’s flooding the rest of Dome with something intended to kill, well, anything and everything. We can’t stop it and we can’t get out.” The frustration was clear on her face. Then it turned to confusion. “Wait. How did you get in here?”

I held up Lotus’s necklace. “This tag. Edison has one too.”

Ada snatched it from my hand, glanced at it, then immediately punched the code into the computer. All of the screens went black for a second. There was a melodic
bwong
and they were back up,
white words scrolling endlessly down a black screen. Finally, when the new screen loaded, there was the LOTUS flower emblazoned on a grey background. Then a warning flashed onto every monitor simultaneously, in giant letters.

Decontamination Protocol initiated: 2084. 06. 20. 07:23

Decontamination Protocol complete: 2084. 06. 20. 12:47

Decontamination Protocol reinitiated 2592. 11. 01. 21:05

“Whoa,” June said.

And the computer responded in a friendly, efficient voice, “LOTUS admin access granted.”

Ada didn’t waste any time. “Shut down Decontamination Protocol!”

But the computer simply said, “Decontamination Protocol has not been completed.”

Ada repeated her command, “Computer, shut down Decontamination Protocol.”

“Decontamination is at eighty-five percent, not sufficient to terminate all viral and bacterial life-forms. Are you sure you wish to—”

“Shut down the fucking Decontamination Protocol!”

“Protocol terminated.” The computer answered. “Seal will be lifted when atmosphere has returned to viable levels.”

Ada looked at me. “Eighty-five percent. You should be dead.”

“I nearly was. Then your Mother over there almost finished the job.”

The Mother, who Ada had called Emmy, made no apologies. “We’re the only ones left and I’ll be damned if I let someone walk in here and wipe out the rest of us.”

The Mothers had courage, even if I didn’t agree with their methods. “What the hell kind of weapon
is
that?”

“Shotgun. We ransacked the place once we were locked in. There’s a stockpile of them in the basement . . . along with a lot of other crazy stuff. Thought they might be able to break through the seal, but no luck. But let’s not change the subject. I mean, I’m glad and everything, but why aren’t you dead?”

“Nik did something to me. Or actually, to Tasch.” I looked at my hands, still smeared with blood—mine and hers. “Whatever it is, I think it saved me.”

“Computer, sample Leica’s blood.”

A fly buzzed down from the ceiling and landed on the back of my hand. Its sharp metal legs crawled over to a blue vein; then there was a sharp sting and it took off again.

“Display results.”

Percentages and data scrolled across the screen. Ada followed the stream of information carefully, nodding, but it was meaningless to me. “Now show me the blood on a cellular level.”

The screen filled with hundreds of red, puffy discs.

“That clever little clone.” Ada had admiration in her voice. “Those round thingys are red blood cells, but see these ones?” She pointed to a shape on the screen that was smaller and sleeker. Once I knew what I was looking for, I spotted more of them floating among the blood cells. “Those are the nanites Nik’s been working on—so his plants could filter out toxins. Evidently, he’s figured out how to use them on people.”

And I remembered Nik’s fist, slamming into the broken glass and dirt . . . and nanites. They must have gotten into his bloodstream and
that’s
why his hand healed. And when Tasch’s blood mixed with mine, they must’ve gotten into my bloodstream too. That must be why I healed so well.

“Computer, can you replicate the artificial elements in this sample?” Ada asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Prepare a sample and distribute it to Riya—the one in need of medical attention.”

“Task complete in thirteen minutes, forty-nine seconds.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” I asked, looking at Riya’s motionless grey face. It reminded me too much of Taschen for comfort.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to figure out what kind of toxins were used, but they’ve only been in her system for a short while and her body’s still fighting. The nanites are designed for this exact thing. Then again . . . they
weren’t
designed for humans.”

“Edison is still out there. I think he’s been communicating with . . .” I petered off, thinking of Jenner’s delirious words.
Thinks he’s talking to Earth.
“I have to stop whatever he has planned.”

She didn’t even blink. “Right. All the magnetic fields are still functioning and we didn’t take out any of the tracks on the lower levels.” Ada said. “Monitors show the magflys should be up and running down there.”

She was flipping through schematics of the Dome and one caught my attention as it flashed across the screens.

“Wait. Show me that one again.”

Ada flipped back, her voice hushed. “I’ve never seen this before. I wonder what else that LOTUS code gave us access to.”

It was a map of Gabriel, recognizable and foreign at the same time. Familiar mountains ringed the valley. There were other landmarks too: Ad Astra Research Colony, with the curve of the Dome highlighted in blue. And nearby, a tiny semicircle of buildings—Pleiades
Hotel and Suites. And—where the open field of the Festival Grounds was—LOTUS Corporation Air Force Base.

Magfly lines crisscrossed the desert. But there were streets as well, lined with grids of rectangular buildings. There was a red circle encompassing most of the valley and at the bottom it read,
Emergency Protocol successful: 2084. 06. 20.

The fist of God.

I pushed the thought out of my mind—concentrating on getting out to Tierra Muerta and stopping whatever Edison had planned next. “Okay, show me the map to the magflys again.”

• • •

I jogged down several flights of stairs, ending at the double glass doors of a decontamination portal. This one was in disrepair—the sliding doors were opening and closing on their own. They were out of sync with each other, so I only caught little glimpses of the hallway on the other side. Damp cement floors. Dim lights. A sign above the doors read:

RESTRICTED ACCESS. LOTUS PERSONNEL ONLY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED ON SIGHT.

I hurried down the hall, found the exit, and climbed on the magfly Ada had waiting for me. The doors slid shut behind me and it took off. All I could see was the black blur of the magfly tubes, but just as soon as we picked up speed, we were slowing down again.

Then I was gliding into a bright room—the magfly automatically slowing as it traveled through the usually busy Salvage Hall. There were bodies everywhere. Citizens strewn across the floor like scrap. My heart stopped as I spotted Sarika’s face in the sea of corpses. Eyes open. A look of rapture on her face.

I tried to open the doors of the magfly. Prying at them, pounding on the button, but nothing happened. Then the magfly jerked into motion again. I was rushing down the tunnels and then out under the night sky.

The trip that would’ve taken days to walk took minutes. Ada had programmed the magfly to stop a mile or so away from the Indigno camp—we weren’t taking any chances. And when the magfly finally slowed, I was grateful to climb out of the nightmare into the empty darkness of Tierra Muerta. I let it wash away what I’d seen.

As my boots sank into the sand, I turned instead to the stars. They were old friends and I clung to their constancy—as if I could walk the bright ribbon of light that unfurled across the sky. Tonight had already cost me so much and I didn’t know what more was waiting for me at the Indigno camp, but at least the stars were still shining.

As I neared the clusters of boulders outside the camp, I thought I saw another shadow moving in the dark. I pulled my knife from my boot, but by then, the shadow was gone. I still hadn’t seen any sign of Edison. Maybe I’d guessed wrong. Maybe he’d already been here and left? I gripped my knife tighter, almost hoping that was the case. Wishing I could be spared this confrontation.

I crept around the boulders, and remembering how the Indignos had posted guards up in the foothills, I glanced up. But the moon was bright and it threw a hundred more suspicious shadows across the landscape.

Then my foot caught on something and I went sprawling. I managed not to shout, biting my tongue in my effort to keep
quiet. It was only scraped hands and bruises but I stayed down, feeling around for my knife. My hand hit soft fur instead.

“Please. No.” I couldn’t face losing another friend tonight.

I crawled over the wet sand. And there, lying in the grit, was Jaesun’s dog. The pup’s tongue lolling out. A gash across her belly.