New World Order (3 page)

“So if the baby has inherited them, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing?”

“Not a bad thing at all. If I can perfect this technology, then mortality rates will be greatly reduced.” His
eyes shifted away from the monitor to look at me. “And I currently only have two test subjects: Jack Kenner and his baby. Since one is missing, I have a vested interest in preserving the other. If you can make it to twelve or thirteen weeks, your chances of a successful pregnancy increase significantly.”

“Twelve or thirteen weeks?” I echoed. Why did everything have to be so complicated? “But
I’m only nine weeks, and Jack’s trail is getting cold.”

Doc regarded me with an understanding, if not tolerant, expression. “Others have been out searching and they’ve found no sign of them. I don’t know why you think you’ll have better luck.”

“I’ll be with people who know their way around,” I said. “Now that the ice on the river is broken up, the Nation will begin their own search tomorrow.
They have a guide, a former recruit who found refuge with the Nation fifteen years ago. He says he stumbled upon the Nation when he followed a river from Ryder’s city, and he’s pretty sure he can find the city again. I’m going with them, and Summer’s coming with me too.” I paused for a moment, knowing how protective Doc was about his technology. “And we plan on wearing our supersuits. I know you’ve
said a thousand and one times not to reveal their existence because ‘it’s our advantage over the bourge,’” I said, making air quotes. “But at some point we actually need to test the suits in a real-life situation. And what better time than when we’re not with the bourge?”

Doc let out a disgruntled huff. “First, how many times do I have to tell you it’s an exoskeleton and
not
some cartoonish
hero outfit? Second, if I can’t talk you out of going, then I want you to wear it. It’ll give you and Kenner’s offspring extra protection.”

I snapped my head in his direction. “
Kenner’s offspring
?”

His expression turned to confusion and then transformed to horror. “It’s not someone else’s, is it?”

“No!” I said incredulously. “It’s just…God, Doc, it’s a baby, not an experiment.”

He seemed
to be at a loss for a moment and then slowly understanding crossed his face. “So it
is
his child, and I was just being insensitive,” he said. I nodded and he let out a sigh of relief.

I still wasn’t used to Doc’s clinical demeanor, despite all the time we had spent together over the past ten months. As his handpicked leader for his techno-elite army in the rough, my time had been divided between
this lab and my studies at the Academy. It had been a struggle, highlighted by the occasional meltdown where I may have said once or twice, “I quit!” Not to mention that at least half of the militia was made up of my friends, which really put me in an awkward leadership role.

Yet there was something about Doc that touched my heart. Yeah, he was socially impaired, but maybe that’s why I felt
the way I did about him. Having an IQ too high to be measured had earned him a life as a scientist in a bourge lab, isolated from his own kind, imprisoned by the threat that his infant son and wife would be executed if he didn’t do what he was told. He spent the next thirty years working in seclusion, and it had done things to his mind. Although his wife had been Culled when she reached the age of
thirty-five, I found out his son was still alive and had a wife and daughter. Despite my urgings, Doc couldn’t bring himself to make contact. His son thought he was long dead, and in Doc’s opinion that was better than the truth.

Doc brought up a new ultrasound picture on the screen, which looked just as abstract as the first. “I was hoping to entice you to stay because your services may be required,”
he said as he studied the picture. I noticed him peek quickly at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Is this about Leisel Holt?” I asked. He looked surprised that I knew. “Bron came to visit me. She said that Malcolm West brought Leisel in to take Jack’s seat in the Senate until Jack was either found or declared dead and a new election could be held.”

Doc leaned back in his seat and studied
me for a moment. “So what are you going to do about it?”

My eyebrows shot up. “
Me
?”

“You are the leader of our militia. A strategic strike would serve us well right now.”

As the meaning of his suggestion sank in, my mouth fell open. “You mean
assassinate someone
?” I searched his eyes, hoping to see a shocked response, but his expression confirmed my guess. “That’s an act of war. We kill
one of them, they kill lots of us.”

“We’re not defenseless anymore. Maybe it’s time to give them a show of force.”

I almost laughed. For the past ten months a lot of my time had been spent learning the art of combat: through my studies at the Academy, which included two hours of martial arts and one hour of weapons training every day, and my time with the Nation, where I was immersed in martial
arts, archery, and learning a form of meditation that aided me in memorizing each movement. And I considered myself still very much a student, not a master. Doc was expecting a miracle if he thought I had enough skill to whip an untrained militia into shape.

“The
only
advantage we have is our supersuits, but we still need to learn how to use them,” I said. “We’re not ready, Doc, and even if
we were, killing is a last resort. I’m counting on our senators—you, David Chavez, and Martin Kenner—to block West. I mean, you were elected to look after our interests, right? And West has zero authority to bring Leisel in to claim Jack’s seat.” My words were harsh, and with anyone else I might have felt a little bad saying them, but I had never known Doc to be one for niceties.

“West is trying
to twist the wording of our draft constitution, arguing that there’s a grandfather clause that gives the Holt family permanent presence in the government, no matter how that government is organized.”

“
Please,
” I said, with dry sarcasm. “No one’s going to accept that. It’s beyond ridiculous.”

Doc sat up straighter. “Guess again. Powell’s backing him, and they had the House packed with supporters
of the old regime. In fact, West took advantage of the situation to make a few grandstanding speeches against your husband’s politics, calling his move to eradicate the credit system communist in nature. He said fiscal policy is needed to stimulate growth and—get this—to keep
freeloaders
from developing in our society. Remind you of anything?”

That had my attention. The credit system was a relic
of the treaty. A tool that worked in tandem with education to ensure the rich stayed rich, the poor stayed poor, and the slaves remained enslaved. We were constantly reminded in the Pit that freeloaders weren’t tolerated. If peace was ever going to be achieved, the credit system had to go.

“Both the Pit and the Alliance are against keeping it, and together we far outnumber the old regime,”
I said. “West won’t get away with it.”

“The
Alliance
?” Doc huffed. “Where were they last week when the riot broke out at the Employment Center? People died, Miss O’Donnell.”

I shrank away from the vengeance I saw in his eyes. “I didn’t know there was a riot,” I said. “What happened?”

“Applications for the new coalmine were being accepted, and despite a lineup of applicants that ran two
city blocks—
the vast majority of whom had dark eyes
—over ninety percent hired were bourge. Only a handful of experienced miners from the Pit were given jobs, and the only reason they were hired was
to train the bourge how to mine
!” One of Doc’s hands curled into a tight fist. “West and Powell have defended the Employment Center, stating that level of education has always been a more important
qualification than experience.”

I shook my head in utter bewilderment. “What? If that’s true, then why weren’t the miners in the Pit given more education under bourge rules?”

“Under the terms of the treaty, the Pit operated under different rules. Now that the treaty is no longer in place, West and Powell are arguing that we all play by Dome laws.”

“But Jack’s campaign to change the laws
to reflect liberation has received public approval.”

“It doesn’t take a lot of people to corrupt an organization. It just takes a few people in strategic positions. The ones doing the hiring were West supporters, and any bourge lucky enough to get a paying job wasn’t going to jeopardize it by sticking up for a bunch of urchins.”

Closing my eyes, I pinched the skin on the bridge of my nose
hoping it might alleviate the headache I could feel coming on. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about the riot?”

“It happened the same day you were shot by that arrow, and you’ve been a little preoccupied since.” I opened my mouth to speak in my own defense, but Doc brushed me away with a wave of his hand. “I’m not blaming you. You’ve had quite a week. And as you’ve pointed out, it’s the job of our
senators to represent our interests in government. I just wanted you to know that Senator Chavez and I did our due diligence and demanded answers from West about the riot in the last Senate meeting.”

Frustrated, I drew in a deep breath and blew it out. It all just made finding Jack that much more of a priority.

“What about Jack’s father? What does he have to say about all this?” I asked.
I was still trying to figure out Martin Kenner. He had dropped by our house a number of times over the past ten months, usually after a Senate meeting on his way home to his suites in the Dome. Although he always had a few polite words to say to me, actual conversation was reserved for his sons.

Doc shrugged. “Martin Kenner rarely speaks out, but he’s a bourge, so I’m left to assume he’s pro-West.”

I wished I could claim that wasn’t true, but I honestly had no idea where Martin’s loyalties lay. The Kenners had always been the head of Liberty—an organization with the goal of taking down the Holt regime and restoring democracy. But after some of the conversations I had overheard, it seemed to me that Jack’s parents’ idea of “restoring democracy” was synonymous with one of their sons taking
over as sole president. They hadn’t really declared how they felt about Liberty uniting with the Pit to form the Alliance.

“All the more reason for me to find Jack and bring him home. In the meantime, fight fire with fire and rally the Alliance for the next Senate meeting. The House is where this fight should be fought—using words, not weapons.” A wave of revulsion washed over me at the memory
of our last conflict with the bourge. Far too many people paid with their lives to achieve freedom, but at least I could put the blame on a crazed dictator. We didn’t have that excuse this time around.

Doc opened his mouth to say something, seemed to reconsider, and closed it, his face set in disappointment.

A buzzing filled the cavern, making both of us jump. Doc reached out and pressed
a key on his computer. A picture of Reyes Crowe, standing at the door of the lab, loomed up on the screen.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked. “Is the militia scheduled for testing tonight?”

“I invited him,” he said, pressing another key that unlocked the lab door.

I eyed Doc suspiciously. “Why?” The computer screen went back to the ultrasound picture, and I reached for the keyboard to make
it go away. Only a few people knew about the baby, and I wanted to keep it that way for now.

“I want him to go with you on the search for Kenner.”

“Wha—” I began, but Reyes walked in, his six-foot-four-inch frame dwarfing the low ceiling lab.

Reyes had always been an imposing figure, but a life of freedom under a rejuvenating sun had been particularly kind to him. It’s not that I was attracted
to him again. Even if I hadn’t found my soul mate in Jack, things would never have worked between Reyes and me. He was too pigheaded for my liking. But I would have to be blind not to see that the tall lanky boy I had been engaged to had grown into a striking man. A diet of real food—not the fortified leftovers they fed us in the Pit—had bulked up his already brawny frame, and it was difficult
not to appreciate how his sun-bronzed skin gleamed tautly over the well-defined muscle. His black hair was cut shorter than he’d worn it in the Pit, but he kept his signature long curls that flopped across his brow, softening his otherwise overpowering masculinity.

“Thanks for coming,” Doc said, standing to welcome him. He motioned toward a chair.

“What’s going on?” Reyes asked, looking back
and forth at Doc and me as he sat down.

“Miss O’Donnell is insisting on joining a search party for Jack Kenner,” Doc said, resuming his seat. “Since she’ll be carrying precious cargo, I need a bodyguard to accompany her.”

I sat back, crossing both my arms and legs. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Reyes looked at Doc, his eyes narrowed. “You want
me
to go?”

“You’re the best choice,” Doc said.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I appreciate your concern, Doc. Honest. But I’ll have Protectors from the Nation with me. I’ll be safe.”

Reyes opened his mouth to say something, but Doc cut him off. “Look at him.” He waved a hand in Reyes’ direction. “He’s the size of an army tank. Wearing one of my exoskeletons, he’s the best possible weapon you could have.”

“I’ll be wearing my own supersuit and more
than capable of looking after myself. Besides, I’m sure Reyes has better things to do.”

“Can I say something?” Reyes cut in. We both looked at him. He turned his attention on me. “Look, I know things aren’t exactly comfortable between us, and I honestly couldn’t care less about Kenner, but ever since we left the Pit I keep wondering what’s beyond the mountains. I want to know what’s out there,
so, yeah, I’ll go.”

That caught me off guard. I figured he would agree that it was a bad idea. He and I weren’t exactly friendly—he and Jack even less so.

“Reyes, this isn’t going to be a hike through the woods. I’m going out to look for Jack and, frankly, I’m not coming back until I find him. I don’t care if I run out of food packs or water filters. I’m prepared to risk radiation poisoning
and anything else that might threaten me, including recruiters or those radioactive mutants from the scorchedlands the People are always talking about.”