The Soul Continuum (5 page)

I lean out of my window and look down. It's Candice.

“Hey!” She has her hands cupped around her mouth, directing her whisper toward me. “Get down here. There's something you have to see.”

She's wearing black tracker bottoms and a black top, so it's hard to see her clearly, but her pumpkin hair is visible in the moonlight, bleached to a ghostly pale blue.

“I can't. I have to pack my things.”

“Why?”

“We're leaving.”

“What? Where are you going? You've only been here two weeks.”

“I don't know.”

Candice drops her hands and slaps her thighs angrily. She looks around her, lips tight with frustration. Then she cups her hands to her mouth again and hisses up at me. “Ten minutes. That's all we need. I have to show you this.”

I can feel the excitement bubbling up again, enveloping the fear I had a few moments ago. “And you can't tell me what it is?”

“You'll see.” She grins and waves me down.

“They won't let me out. I'm supposed to be packing, and it's really late.”

“Quickly, then. Climb out the window. You
have
to come.”

“Why? What's so important?”

“Come down and you'll
see
.”

I can't hold the excitement any longer, and before I know what I'm doing, my knees are on the window ledge and my hands are gripping the frame. Carefully, I edge my way down onto the roof of the utility porch and slide down the tiles before dropping deftly down to the gravel driveway. Candice has her hands pressed against her mouth to stifle a giggle as she hops up and down gleefully.

Holding hands, we fly along the gravel pathway toward the park. A smell comes from her, sweaty, like she hasn't washed, and I can't believe I am doing this. My feet are bare and the tiny stones cut into my soles as we run, but
the sharp sting only excites me further. For five more minutes
we run, until Candice stops breathless at the gated entrance of a wide field. Fake livestock grazes on the grass at its center. Great big beasts. Hundreds of them, pale in the moonlight, with irregular black blotches on their hairy hides. Some of them have horns.

“Cows,” I say. I have seen them in picture books but never actually seen one properly. I imagine my mother was planning to show me these soon, along with everything else she programmed the environment to manufacture.

“Cows, yes, but look over there.” She points toward a separate herd to the right, and these are not listlessly chewing on the grass like the others. They look spooked.

“What's up with them?”

“I'll show you.” She takes my hand and leads me on.

“Candice, I should really go back. My mother—”

“Oh, forget your stupid mother.
Look!
”

A wicked grin twists her face, and as we get closer I can see a cow lying in the grass, a shiny patch on the ground ebbing from its stomach. Blood! The cow is moaning, and I can see its side move slowly up and down as it struggles to breathe.

“What happened to it?” I ask.

“No idea.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Do you feel anything?”

“What?”

“Do you
feel
anything, Salomi? Simple enough question, isn't it?”

I gaze at the suffering beast. I do feel something. Of course I feel something. It's terrible to see something struggling to keep hold of its life.

“No, nothing,” I tell her. “I know I should feel something, but I don't.”

She shakes her head with the same look of wonder she had when I stooped over her beneath the tower.

“Is this why you brought me here? Just to see if I'd get upset?”

“Well, yes, I guess, but someone needs to put it out of its misery.” She looks at me expectantly, hands on hips. “And who better than you? You don't feel a thing, right? And there's no way I'm doing it.”

“But shouldn't we call an adult? I mean, what did this to it?”

The cow bays loudly, mournfully.

“How the hell should I know what did it? And I
am
an adult. I'm seventeen. Well, nearly. The point is, someone needs to end its suffering.” She has a glint in her eye, and I realize there and then just how twisted my friend is, but still, I'm grinning too, looking back and forth between her and the cow. I want to get away from here, from her. I want to go back home, pack my things, and get away from this place as quickly as I can.

“What do I do?” I ask. “It's enormous. I couldn't—”

“Here.” Candice fishes something from her tracker bottom pocket and hands it to me. “Slit its throat. That should put it out of its misery pretty quickly, don't you think?”

I take the object from her. It's a sheathed knife.

“Go on,” she says and shoves me.

A thrill bubbles through me, a shiver of anticipation as I unsheathe the shining blade and look down at the cow. No! I can't do this. But I
am
doing it. I kneel down in the grass beside the cow's head and—

“Shit! Look!” Candice grabs my shoulder. “What the hell is
that
?”

I look up to where she's pointing.

There's something in the sky. Something huge and squirming, black and amorphous and undulating, hovering above the treetops.

“Wait! I know what that is, but it's the first time I've ever seen it,” Candice says.

I am instantly captivated, my attention on the suffering animal evaporating. “So what is it?”

“It's a murmuration. Starlings. But it shouldn't be here at night. That's so weird.”

“A murmuration?”

“Yeah. It's supposed to happen at dusk. At least it used to on Earth. It's something birds do before they settle down. They sort of flock together in all these weird patterns. Just like that.”

“What about the cow?”

“Forget the cow.” She keeps her gaze pointed at the sky. “Look at it. It's brilliant, isn't it?”

“Yes.” And it is brilliant, but my mind is in turmoil. I don't understand what is happening or what I'm even doing out here. It's cold and I don't care. My feet are bleeding from the run along the gravel. There's a dying animal I'm about to kill, and now Candice is showing me this thing called a murmuration that shouldn't even be here.

“Salomi!”

The cry comes from my mother, and I turn to see her rushing toward me across the field. Father is with her.

“Salomi, what are you doing out here?”

Candice turns too. “Shit! Time to go. Sorry, Salomi.”

She blows me a kiss, winks, and runs toward a gate on the opposite side of the field at full sprint, leaving me alone to face my parents.

My mother scoops me up and hugs me tightly, distraught. “Thank goodness you didn't turn off your locator patch.” She kisses my cheek hard. “What are you doing here? Who was that? Was that Candice?” Then she sees the knife in my hand. “Oh God! What have you done?”

“Did you do this, Salomi?” Father is standing over the cow, stunned.

“No, it was already—”

“Ravian, look! What
is
that?” Mother still clutches at me, but her attention is now on the starlings snaking and swooping above the trees like an inky cloud.

“It's a murmuration, Mother,” I tell her. “Candice said they're starlings. Aren't they beautiful?”

She looks at me horrified, then down at the cow, not comprehending, and I know exactly how she feels. “Ravian? What's going on?”

Father looks up at the cloud and brings a hand slowly to his mouth.

“What?” Mother says. “What
is
it?”

The revelation dawns on me. Mother does not know what a murmuration is, and if she does not know what it is, she could not have programmed it into the environment.

“We need to get back to the house, Elba. Now,” he says calmly, though I can feel the urgency in his voice. “It
is
a murmuration, but they aren't starlings. We have to go, right now, or they'll come for us.”

Mother holds me so tightly now I can hardly breathe. “I don't understand. What are they?”

Father doesn't say another word. He takes Mother by
the shoulder and hurries us away, pulling us back to the field entrance, watching the murmuration as he stumbles on.

P
anic ensues when we reach the house. Father frantically grabs items and thrusts them into a case.
Mother fires questions at him as she does the same, and I stand in the middle of it all, hopping up and down with glee.

“Ravian, please, tell me what's happening. What
was
that out there?”

Father stops suddenly and glances at Mother, revelation hitting him. “Oh, God! That was Candice,” he says. “Ezra must be in trouble. He would never let her out of his sight.
She's a grade C sociopath needing constant care. Completely
unstable.”

Mother makes an effort to calm herself by taking a
breath and lowering her voice. “We can worry about Candice
and Ezra later. Now take a moment, please, and tell me what's going on. Perhaps I can help.”

“Candice is a what?” I ask.

Mother gives me a look. “Salomi, please go to your room and continue packing. And don't leave again.”

I don't want to go to my room. I want to know what is happening, so I take a step toward the stairs, but I wait there.

Father bites his lip, and his eyes flick from left to right as he thinks.

Mother grabs his arm. “Ravian!
Talk
to me.”

“A minute,” Father says, putting a finger to his temple.
“Control, connect me to the residence of Ezra Fabrine, quickly.”

He paces up and down the room, waiting while my mother watches.

“There's no answer,” he says. “He isn't there. Shyma must be gone, too.”

Mother gazes intently at him, letting him know she won't do another thing until he explains everything. I can see he is exasperated, but he sighs quickly and then nods. “Very well, I'll explain, but can we do it on the way? We cannot stay
here
. I need both of you to get what you need, and we need to leave.”

Mother doesn't move. “I'm not doing another thing until I know everything. You seem to be forgetting that I'm the one who spent months designing this entire habitat. I can
help
.”

Father holds out his hands. “All right, damn it. They were nanodrones. The murmuration is a nanodrone cloud, and I think they've been configured remotely by the investigators to”—he blinks hard—“remove us. It seems they either saw through my database hacks, or one of our team broke. Either way, it's certain now. They've found out we're here. I was hoping they wouldn't think of reaching us this way, but I knew it was a possibility, and that's why I was in such a hurry for us to leave. Even so, I thought we would have more time.”

“They can reconfigure our nanodrones from the lab?”

Father nods grimly.

“But that means . . .” Mother's eyes settle on me. She studies me for several long seconds, then says quietly, “I won't tell you again, Salomi. Go to your room and pack your things.”

I leave the room, but I have no interest in packing. Instead, I sit on the stairs again, making sure that I cannot be seen this time. It is difficult to hear them talking, but I hear enough. Mother is worried that the investigators might also reprogram the nanodrones in my bloodstream and somehow activate them without the Sartixil, but she is trying to convince Father that she can override them.

The minutes pass as the sound of packing lessens and their talking turns from discussion into heated argument. I want to go to them. Not because I want to stop them fighting but because the happy part of me is growing excited by the energy in their voices. I am about to burst back into
the room when a loud knock sounds on the front door and my parents go suddenly silent. I push the door open and see
their fearful expressions. They continue to stare at each other for a few moments longer, and then Father sees me and holds out a hand to indicate that none of us should move or speak. The banging comes again, more frantic this time, followed by a voice.

“Ravian! Elba! Open the door. It's me, Ezra.”

E
zra Fabrine is a peculiar-looking man. Short and stocky, quite old. It looks like gravity has been a constant enemy for him, dragging the wrinkled folds of his face downward so that he looks like an aged hound. Today he looks more haggard than ever. His clothes are tattered, and his eyes are ringed with red; he probably hasn't slept for days.

His voice is deep and gravelly. “I am so glad you're all still alive,” he says, looking at each of us in turn, but focusing mainly on my father and his bloodstains.

“The nanodrones?” my father says, guiding him to the couch.

“The nanodrones,” he confirms. “Someone has remote programmed them.”

“Where is Shyma?” Mother asks. “Is she all right?”

Ezra breathes heavily, unable to answer as he leans forward in his seat to rub his face. He looks up, shakes his head slowly.

“Oh, God!” Father says. “She's . . . ?”

“I couldn't stop them in time,” Ezra says. “I tried to use
an electromagnetic pulse, but they were shielded. I couldn't . . . and
she . . .”

Father places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And Candice?”

“I have no idea where she is. She got out of the house two days ago when we first found out the nanodrones had been tampered with. We were distracted, trying to break the code. She's switched off her locator patch, so I don't even know where to start looking. I'm so worried about her.”