Awakening (28 page)

Junjie frowned, but went along with Devak’s dodge. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Guru Ling’s been studying Scratch-infected GENs’ lymphatic systems.”

“I thought Akhilesh wouldn’t give her any biological samples.”

“Right. Too high a risk of infection, da, da, da. Even when he’s using the tissue to generate new GENs.” Junjie’s mouth twisted with disgust. “Akhilesh is a chutting pain in the kulhe. We went around him. Got samples from our own GENs.”

“Our
GENs?” Devak asked.

“Kinship
GENs. I would never, even if I had the adhikar, be patron to a GEN. It’s just so . . . so wrong.” Junjie shuddered. “A few GENs from the safe houses gave permission to experiment on their tissue. It violates the Infinite’s liturgy, but we know what that liturgy is worth. The Infinite Himself would praise the sacrifice.”

Since when did Junjie know so much about the GENs’ religion? Devak was about to ask, but Junjie barreled on.

“So Guru Ling discovered this extra fluid in the infected GENs’ lymphatic system. Really gross stuff, kind of pus-like. She calls it duwu. Anyway, the scratch marks are the body’s reaction to duwu. It messes up a GEN’s blood, making more and more tiny clots form in the veins and arteries until it’s nothing but clots and fluid too thin for the heart to pump. That’s when they die.”

Devak gripped the wheel again to ride out a blast of wind. Junjie grabbed the door handle as the lev-car whipped from side to side.

The wind eased, and Devak sat back again. “What I don’t get is why the GENs’ super-immune system doesn’t counteract the Scratch.”

“Guru Ling hasn’t figured that part out,” Junjie said. “She says it’s like the virus mutated to a form that fools the GEN programming into thinking Scratch is a natural process. GEN bodies just leave it alone. Almost like the way jaf buzz can make an addict’s stomach feel full, so they stop eating and eventually starve themselves.”

Devak thought of his mother and the damage she did to her body with her vac-seals of BeCalm and crysophora. Thank the Lord Creator she’d never tried jaf buzz. At least she hadn’t before she deserted him, after his father went to prison. Who knew what she was trying now?

Devak tuned back in to what Junjie was saying. “Guru Ling has some promising trials going that focus on the duwu. The best one counteracts the duwu’s build-up and clears it from the tissue. She went to Akhilesh just yesterday for more funding.”

“And maybe some legitimate biological samples too,” Devak said.

“Just as soon use ours,” Junjie said. “At least we get permission.”

Just then, the AirCloud arrived at the northwest corner of Daki sector, where the safe house was tucked away beneath a nearby warren. The north coast of Daki faced the Uttaraa Sea, but the sheets of rain were so thick Devak couldn’t distinguish the gray of the rolling waves from the downpour.

Taking manual control of the lev-car, he left the well-paved cross-sector road for a local road. Jouncing along for a good kilometer across the potholes, he finally pulled in behind a row of rain-lashed warrens.

Lord Creator, what a dismal place to live. Skyloft got some protection from The Wall, the mountain range that divided the
livable part of Svarga Continent from the Badlands. But Daki was just thrust out there into the sea with nothing to shield it from the bad weather.

“This is as close as I dare get,” Devak said. “You never know who’s watching.” Although any enforcer out in this storm would have to be especially dedicated.

“You’re sure you won’t come with me?” Junjie asked one last time.

Kayla was so close, somewhere in the tunneled safe house beneath the third warren over. A quick dash through the rain and Devak could see her.

His weak moment was interrupted by a summons from his wristlink. From the pattern of beeps, he could tell not only that it was Pitamah, but it was an emergency.

Devak said to Junjie, “You might need to get a ride back with Jemali after all.”

Junjie waved goodbye and slipped from the lev-car. He dashed off toward the third warren over.

Once Junjie had disappeared inside, Devak pressed the wristlink’s answer button. “What is it?”

“I need you in Nafi,” his great-grandfather said. “Another bombing. Right above a safe house.”

“Denking, chutting hell,” Devak muttered as he swung the AirCloud away from the row of warrens. “Anyone hurt?”

“We don’t know yet. But that’s the safe house we sent Gemma to.”

Mercifully, the rain that had pounded Daki and Skyloft gave
way to a drizzle across the Northeast Territory adhikar, then stopped entirely when Devak arrived at the bombed warren in Nafi. Rubble from the explosion had scattered across the roadway, so Devak parked the lev-car one street over.

As he threaded his way through the clot of GENs gathered along the street, they parted for him just as the lowborns had in Esa. Before he met Kayla, he’d convinced himself that they moved aside out of respect.

Now he knew it was resentment and fear. Resentment of the GEN enslavement that he represented as a trueborn, and fear of what he could do to any one of them.

Even the allabain had reason to be wary of him. With one wristlink call to the Brigade, he could have their bhaile tents torn up and burned and all of them driven out, the way the enforcers were now doing while searching for Raashida.

He turned back toward the gathering of Nafi GENs. A mix of emotions played out on their faces, grief, despair, and in one tall, pale-faced GEN man, he saw anger. And no wonder— their home, such as it was, had been destroyed. It occurred to Devak that this was how the lowborn riots started. Life got worse and worse for the lowborns, trueborns treating them with more cruelty day by day—until the lowborns struck back.

As he eyed the group, some of them retreated, nurturers pulling their charges farther away. But the tall, angry-faced GEN didn’t back away. He said loudly enough that he must have known Devak could hear, “He’ll find a way to blame us. Punish us for our own misfortune.”

A woman beside him shushed him, flicking a worried glance toward Devak. Devak walked away, ignoring the man’s dangerous words.

He continued toward the dozen or so enforcers clustered opposite the rubble from the GENs. A plass sheet had been wrapped snugly over a man-sized shape lying still and silent on the ground. Nearby, a plasscine cloth had been thrown more haphazardly over a body half the size of the other.

Ignoring the enforcers’ stares, Devak went to the smaller body first. Steeling himself, he twitched aside the sheet. His heart sank at the sight of the lifeless face. No more than a sixth-year, Devak guessed. Her long dark hair was a bloody tangle, her blue eyes half-lidded. She was gray with dust, but she had likely been pale-skinned.

Shifting to block the view of the enforcers, he closed the girl’s eyes. Across the rubble, he caught the gaze of the angry GEN man. As Devak watched, the man dropped his face and his hands tightened into fists. The woman beside him sobbed. Could this have been their nurture daughter?

Devak arranged the sheet more respectfully, then rose and strode over to the enforcers. Minor-status, all of them, even the captain. There was resentment in their faces too, that Devak’s high status alone made him better than them. He couldn’t blame them for that. Doubtless there were plenty of high-status ready to lord their rank over these enforcers. They didn’t know that Devak never would.

Off to one side, a single GEN enforcer looked at Devak sidelong, his light brown eyes a near match for his face. Once Devak met the GEN enforcer’s gaze, the enforcer looked down at his own right hand spread flat on his black shirt front. Pinky finger tucked in, the GEN had stretched out his thumb and other fingers as wide as they would go.

It took Devak a few seconds to register the crude letter K. He was Kinship. And maybe he knew the fate of those in the safe house.

“I’m Devak Manel.” Devak said to the captain, letting the still-powerful Manel name sink in. “I was asked to assess the situation.”

The captain stepped forward, and in an instant sized Devak up. High-status, but young, his clothes modest for someone of his rank. Any respect the captain might have shown Devak dropped several notches.

“We have the situation handled, Manel-Mar,” the captain said, his tone barely polite. “Your presence isn’t needed.”

“Six of the residents of this warren were scheduled to be Assigned to one of our kel-grain processing factories in Peq sector,” Devak said, hardening his tone. “I need to know if they survived.”

The captain pulled out his sekai, his pale-eyed gaze fixed on Devak. Would he dare insult a trueborn from the high-status Manels by checking Devak’s story? The factory didn’t exist. Pitamah said he’d try to get a tech to add the fictional facility to the industrial database, but on such short notice, it might not have been done.

Ved Manel’s imperiousness might have been the only useful thing he’d bequeathed to his son, and Devak used it now. It was a tilt of the chin, a looking down the nose, eyes narrowed. It was a careless lifting of his wristlink, fingers reaching for the com button as if readying to report the captain to his commander.

The captain shoved the sekai back in his pocket. “Only one death. An enforcer on patrol near the warren.”

“And the GEN kit,” Devak said.

The captain shrugged. “The nurture mother thought her mate had taken the kit, her mate thought the nurture mother did. A pity. The kit had a tech sket. Expensive jik to lose.”

Anger burned inside Devak at the captain’s heartless attitude. “You won’t mind if I look for my workers, then.” He motioned toward the GEN enforcer. “And I’ll take him with me. For protection.”

The captain smirked. “He’s lazy and useless, but you can have him. And I’ll ask you to wait until my men question and download the lot of them before any of them slither away.”

The captain gestured to two of his squad members and they moved off around the rubble. Devak and the GEN enforcer took the longer route on the other side of the wreckage.

The GEN man kept a respectful pace behind Devak, but stayed near enough that his low voice was audible. “I’m Waji.”

Glancing back, Devak saw the moment it clicked with Waji that Devak was Zul’s great-grandson. A familiar worshipful look sparked in the GEN man’s eyes.

Devak supposed that connection was better than the one most trueborns made—to his father, Ved. “Do you know what happened with the safe house?”

“The underground structure survived the explosion,” Waji said, “so they were able to initiate the evacuation procedure.”

The two members of the Brigade squad that the captain had sent over had the former warren residents lined up. One of the enforcers questioned the adult GENs verbally. The other went down the line and slapped his datapod against each GEN’s cheek, man, woman, and child, downloading their annexed brains.

Even from a distance it was easy to see when the datapod’s
extendibles connected with the facial tattoo’s circuitry. The GEN being downloaded would flinch from the pain of the extendibles piercing the skin, then go blank-eyed when the download began.

Devak and Waji stood just out of earshot of the enforcers while Devak made a show of searching for those supposedly Assigned to the Manel’s factory. He had his sekai out as if to scan through it and a datapod in his hand ready to use when the Brigade had finished.

Waji’s light brown eyes narrowed as one of the enforcers tore his datapod from a child’s cheek before the extendibles had completely retracted. The GEN enforcer’s hand dropped to his shockgun, fingers toying with the holster snap. The GEN-issue weapon was lower power than the trueborn version, but its blast would knock the trueborn enforcer unconscious for several minutes.

Devak positioned himself between Waji and the cruel enforcer. “Did everyone get out of the safe house?”

“Most of them.” Waji flicked a glance over at Devak. “Have you heard about the updated evacuation procedures?”

“I know that the sick sometimes have to be left behind.” Devak felt sick at the thought. “That the enforcers take them.”

“This goes beyond that. It’s a recent decision. Because of the number of safe houses discovered by the Brigade.” Waji leaned to one side of Devak, his gaze on the other enforcers. “Once as many as can have evacuated, they destroy the safe house.”

“They? You mean the Brigade?”

“The Kinship,” Waji said. “They’ve started booby trapping them to implode and collapse before an enforcer gets inside. Nafi was the first.”

Devak stared at Waji. “That can’t be true.”

“When those enforcers find the safe house entrance,” Waji said, “every tunnel will be buried. They might find the access point under the warren, but they’ll likely assume it’s just a hiding place for contraband goods.”

“But the ones left behind . . . wouldn’t it mostly be GENs killed? Because they’re the only ones with Scratch?”

Emotions flickered across Waji’s face, anger, outrage. It mirrored the anger on the tall GEN man’s face. Again Devak thought of the lowborn riots, how people could only bear so much misery before they struck back.

Then a bleak mask fell over Waji’s face. “Yes, only GENs killed. Although not crushed to death, thank the Infinite. Before they left, the medics would have helped them into His great Hands.”