Cinder (13 page)

The floor dissolved beneath Cinder. Her mind blanked. Surely, she hadn’t heard correctly.

But he just stood, patient, and after a long moment raised both his eyebrows in a mute prompt.

“E-excuse me?”

Kai cleared his throat. Stood straighter. “I assume you are going to the ball?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean, no. No, I’m sorry, I’m not going to the ball.”

Kai drew back, confused. “Oh. Well…but…maybe you would change your mind? Because I am, you know.”

“The prince.”

“Not bragging,” he said quickly. “Just a fact.”

“I know.” She gulped. The ball. Prince Kai was asking her to the ball. But that was the night she and Iko would be running away, if the car was fixed in time. The night she would escape.

Besides, he didn’t know who, what, he was asking. If he knew the truth…how mortified would he be if anyone found out?

Kai shifted on his feet, casting a nervous glance toward the doctor.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “Thank you—I…Thank you, Your Highness. But I must respectfully decline.”

He blinked. His eyes fell as he processed her response. Then he lifted his chin and attempted a grin that was almost painfully dejected. “No, it’s all right. I understand.”

Dr. Erland leaned back against his desk. “My sincerest condolences, Your Highness. In more ways than one, it seems.”

Cinder cast him a frosty glare, but he focused his attention on cleaning his spectacles again.

Kai scratched behind his neck. “It was nice to see you again, Linh-mèi.”

She flinched at the return of the formality and made to speak, her voice catching at apologies, explanations, but the prince didn’t wait for them. The door was already shutting behind him.

She snapped her jaw shut, thoughts sparking in her head. Dr. Erland clucked his tongue, and Cinder prepared to rail at him with those budding explanations, but he turned away before she could and paced back to his seat.

“What a shame you cannot blush, Miss Linh.”

DR. ERLAND HELD BOTH HANDS TOWARD A CHAIR ON THE
other side of his desk. “Please sit down. I only need to finish up a few notes, and then I will tell you some things I’ve learned since yesterday afternoon.”

Cinder sat down, glad to get off her weak legs. “The prince just…”

“Yes. I was standing right here.” Dr. Erland reclaimed his own seat and tapped at the screen in his desk.

Cinder leaned back against the chair, gripping its arms to quell her shaking. Her mind was replaying the conversation while her retina scanner informed her that her body was producing mass amounts of endorphins and she should try to calm down.

“What do you think he meant by his motives being based on self-preservation?”

“He probably doesn’t want to be mauled by all the young ladies at the ball this year. You know there was nearly a stampede a couple years back.”

She bit her lip. Of all the girls in the whole city, she was…

The most convenient.

She forced these words to resonate, to stick. She was here and she seemed to be sane and she was a safe bet for him to ask to the ball. That was all it could be.

Besides, he was in mourning. He wasn’t thinking straight.

“Emperor Rikan is dead,” she said, snatching for anything else to think about.

“Indeed. Prince Kai was close to his father, you know.”

She lowered her gaze to the screen Dr. Erland was hunched over. She could see only a small diagram of a human torso, surrounded by boxes of dense text. It did not appear to be hers.

“I would be lying,” Dr. Erland continued, “if I said that I had not harbored secret hopes of finding an antidote in time to save His Majesty, though I knew from the moment the diagnosis was made that it was unlikely. Nevertheless, we must proceed with our work.”

She nodded in agreement, thinking of Peony’s little hand gripping hers. “Doctor, why haven’t you told the prince about me? Don’t you want him to know that you’ve found someone who’s immune? Isn’t that important?”

He pressed his lips, but he didn’t look up at her. “Perhaps I should. But it would be his responsibility to share the news with the country, and I don’t think we’re ready to draw attention to this. When we have solid evidence that you are…as valuable as I hope, then we will share our news with the prince. And the world.”

She picked up a portscreen stylus that was lying abandoned on the desk and examined it like a scientific mystery. Twirling it like a pinwheel over her fingers, she murmured, “You also didn’t tell him I’m cyborg.”

The doctor made eye contact now, his crow’s-feet crinkling. “Ah. And that is what you’re most concerned about?”

Before she could confirm or deny, Dr. Erland waved his hand as if to dismiss her defensiveness. “Do you think I
should
tell him you’re a cyborg? I will if you want me to. But I frankly didn’t see that it was any of his business.”

Cinder dropped the stylus into her lap. “No, that isn’t—I just—”

Dr. Erland snorted. He was laughing at her.

Cinder huffed in irritation and glared out the window. The city was almost blindingly bright in the morning sun. “Not like it matters. He’ll find out eventually.”

“Yes, I suppose he will. Especially if he continues to show, erm,
interest
in you.” Dr. Erland pushed his chair back from the desk. “There. Your DNA sequencing has been completed. Shall we make our way to the lab room?”

She followed him into the sterile hallway. It was a short walk to the labs, and they entered lab room 11D this time, which looked exactly like lab room 4D: netscreen, built-in cabinets, a single exam table. No mirror.

Cinder sat down on the exam table without being told. “I went to the quarantines today…to visit my sister.”

The doctor paused, his hand on the netscreen’s power button. “That was something of a risk. You understand that people aren’t supposed to
leave
once they arrive, don’t you?”

“I know. But I had to see her.” She swung her legs, beating her feet against the table’s legs. “One of the med-droids ran a blood test on me before I left, and I was clear.”

The doctor fiddled with the netscreen’s controls. “Indeed.”

“I just thought you should know, in case that might affect something.”

“It doesn’t.” He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth. A second later, the screen blazed to life. His hands skimmed across the screen, pulling up Cinder’s file. It was more complex today, filled with information even she didn’t know about herself.

“And I saw something,” she said.

The doctor grunted, more focused on the screen than her.

“One of the med-droids took an ID chip from a victim. After she died. The med-droid said it was programmed to take it. It had
dozens
of them.”

Dr. Erland turned back to her with a mildly interested expression. He seemed to ponder this a moment, then his face slowly relaxed. “Well.”

“Well what? Why would it do that?”

The doctor scratched his cheek, where a fine beard had started to grow across his leathery face. “It’s a common practice in rural parts of the world—where letumosis has been claiming lives for much longer than it has in the cities. The chips are extracted from the deceased and sold off. Illegally, of course, but I understand they can fetch a high price.”

“Why would anyone want to buy someone else’s ID chip?”

“Because it is difficult making a living without one—money accounts, benefits, licenses, they all require an identity.” He stitched his eyebrows. “Although, that brings up an interesting point. With all the letumosis fatalities the past few years, one would think the market is saturated with unneeded ID chips. It’s curious that they would still be in demand.”

“I know, but when you already
have
one…” She paused as his words sank in. Would it really be that easy to steal a person’s identity?

“Unless you want to become someone else,” he said, reading her thoughts. “Thieves. Fugitives of the law.” The doctor rubbed his head through the hat. “The rare Lunar. They, of course, do not have ID chips to begin with.”

“There aren’t any Lunars on Earth. Well, other than ambassadors, I guess.”

Dr. Erland’s gaze filled with pity, as if she were a naive child. “Oh, yes. To Queen Levana’s endless dismay,
not
all Lunars are so easily brainwashed into mindless contentment, and many have risked their lives to escape Luna and relocate here. It’s difficult to leave the moon, and I’m sure many more die attempting it than succeed, especially as more restrictions are put on Lunar ports, but I’m sure it still happens.”

“But…that’s illegal. They’re not supposed to be here at all. Why haven’t we stopped them?”

For a moment, it looked as if Dr. Erland might laugh. “Escaping from Luna is difficult—getting to Earth is the easy part. Lunars have ways of cloaking their spacecrafts and making their way into Earth’s atmosphere without detection.”

Magic.
Cinder fidgeted. “You make it sound like they’re escaping from a prison.”

Dr. Erland raised both eyebrows at her. “Yes. That seems exactly right.”

Cinder kicked her boots against the lab table. The thought of Queen Levana coming to New Beijing had twisted her stomach—the thought of dozens, maybe even hundreds of Lunars living on Earth and impersonating Earthens nearly had her running for the sink. Those savages—with a programmed ID chip and their ability to brainwash people, they could be anyone,
become
anyone.

And Earthens would never know they were being manipulated.

“Don’t look so frightened, Miss Linh. They mostly stick to the countrysides, where their presence is more likely to go unnoticed. The chances that you have ever crossed paths with one is extremely unlikely.” He smiled, a teasing, close-lipped smile.

Cinder sat up straighter. “You sure seem to know a lot about them.”

“I am an old man, Miss Linh. I know a lot about a lot of things.”

“All right, here’s a question. What’s with Lunars and mirrors? I always thought it was just a myth that they’re afraid of them, but…is it true?”

The doctor’s eyebrows knit together. “It has some element of truth. You understand how Lunars make use of their glamours?”

“Not really.”

“Ah. I see,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Well…the Lunar gift is nothing more than the ability to manipulate bioelectric energy—the energy that is naturally created by all living things. For example, it is the same energy that sharks use to detect their prey.”

“Sounds like something Lunars would do.”

The lines around the doctor’s mouth crinkled. “Lunars have the unique ability to not only detect bioelectricity in others, but to also control it. They can manipulate it so that people see what the Lunar wishes them to see, and even feel what the Lunar wishes them to feel. A glamour is what they call the illusion of themselves that they project into the minds of others.”

“Like making people think you’re more beautiful than you really are?”

“Precisely. Or…” He gestured at Cinder’s hands. “Making a person see skin where there is really metal.”

Cinder self-consciously rubbed her cyborg hand through the glove.

“It is why Queen Levana is so striking to look at. Some talented Lunars, such as the queen, keep their glamour up all the time. But just as she cannot trick the netscreens, neither can she trick a mirror.”

“So they don’t like mirrors because they don’t want to see themselves?”

“Vanity is a factor, but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you
are
beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth.” Dr. Erland peered at her, as if amused. “And now a question for you, Miss Linh. Why the sudden interest in Lunars?”

Cinder lowered her gaze to her hands and realized she was still carrying the stylus stolen off his desk. “Something Kai said.”

“His Highness?”

She nodded. “He told me Queen Levana is coming to New Beijing.”

The doctor drew back. He gaped at her, bushy eyebrows nearly touching the brim of his hat, then stepped back against the cabinets. For the first time that day, his focus was entirely on her. “When?”

“She’s supposed to arrive today.”

“
Today
?”

She jumped. She could not have imagined Dr. Erland raising his voice before. He spun away from her, scratching his hat, pondering.

“Are you all right?”

He waved away the question. “I suppose she would have been waiting for this.” He pulled off his hat, revealing a bald spot surrounded by thin, messy hair. He shuffled his hand through it a few times, glaring at the floor. “She is hoping to prey on Kai. His youth, his inexperience.” He blew out a furious breath and replaced the hat.

Cinder splayed her fingers out on her knees. “What do you mean, prey on him?”

He turned back to her. His face was pulled taut, his eyes turbulent. The stare he pinned on Cinder made her shrink away.

“You should not be worried about the prince, Miss Linh.”

“I shouldn’t?”

“She is coming today? That is what he told you?”

She nodded.

“Then you must leave. Quickly. You can’t be here when she arrives.”

He shooed her off the table. Cinder hopped down, but made no move toward the door. “What does this have to do with me?”

“We have your blood samples, your DNA. We can do without you for now. Just stay away from the palace until she’s gone, do you understand?”

Cinder planted her feet. “No, I don’t.”

The doctor looked from her to the netscreen still showing her stats. He appeared confused. Old. Frazzled. “Screen, display current newsfeed.”

Cinder’s stats vanished, replaced by a news anchor. The headline above him announced the emperor’s death. “…Highness is preparing to make a speech in just a few minutes on the death of His Imperial Majesty and the upcoming coronation. We will be broadcasting live—”

“Mute.”

Cinder folded her arms. “Doctor?”

He turned pleading eyes to Cinder. “Miss Linh, you must listen very carefully.”

“I’ll turn my audio interface volume to max.” She leaned back against the cabinets, disappointed when Dr. Erland didn’t so much as blink at her sarcasm.

Instead he blew out a disgruntled sigh. “I am not sure how to say this. I thought I would have more time.” He rubbed his hands together. Paced back toward the door. Squared his shoulder and faced Cinder again. “You were eleven when you had your operation, correct?”

The question was not what she’d been expecting. “Yes…”

“And before that, you don’t remember anything?”

“Nothing. What does this have to do with—”

“But your adoptive parents? Surely they must have told you something about your childhood? Your background?”

Her right palm began to sweat. “My stepfather died not long after the accident, and Adri doesn’t like to talk about it, if she even knows anything. Adopting me wasn’t exactly her idea.”

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?”

Cinder shook her head. “Just their names, birth dates…whatever was in my files.”

“The files on your ID chip.”

“Well…” Irritation burst inside her. “What’s your point?”

Dr. Erland’s eyes softened, trying to comfort, but the look only unnerved her.

“Miss Linh, from your blood samples I have deduced that you are, in fact, Lunar.”

The word washed over Cinder as if he were speaking a different language. The machine in her brain kept ticking, ticking, like it was working through an impossible equation.

“Lunar?” The word evaporated off her tongue, almost nonexistent.

“Yes.”

“Lunar?”

“Indeed.”

She pulled back. Looked at the walls, the exam table, the silent news anchor. “I don’t have magic,” she said, folding her arms in defiance.

“Yes, well. Not
all
Lunars are born with the gift. They’re called shells, which is a slightly derogatory connotation on Luna, so…well, bioelectrically challenged doesn’t sound much better, does it?” He chuckled awkwardly.