Emergent (A Beta Novel) (17 page)

Aidan steps forward. “You will expire us?”

His question kills me, a direct stab to my heart. I can’t bear the thought of Aidan being expired. Please, no. That was not an outcome that I in any way anticipated, or could accept.

“Unfortunately, no,” Kelos answers, and I am flooded with the same
relief
I see reflected on Elysia’s face. “You may
choose
to be expired, by continuing to
resist this ambush. But as part of the settlement agreement with the Replicant Rights Commission, ReplicaPharm assumes ownership of the Demesne clones and must allow them to live out their
remaining years on Demesne. It’s a nonsense bargain, if you ask my opinion—but they didn’t. I’m just the lawyer. As a compromise for allowing you to live, the corporation
has been granted the right to confine you to labor camps on Demesne.”

“What of the clones still on Demesne?” Xander asks.

Kelos answers, “The clones who didn’t participate in this little Insurrection have been reprogrammed to correct the ’raxia misfire. They’ll be allowed to remain in their
previous roles and in their homes, which will now be occupied by ReplicaPharm personnel, whom they will serve. You all—the Defects—will become physical laborers, confined by force
fields to limited working and living areas.”

“Demesne belongs to the Emergents!” Aidan protests. “We won’t go.”

A wave of sadness, bigger even than the fear I feel in this moment, sweeps through me. I’m crushed for Aidan. He will never know freedom again. He will never lead the Emergents to their
promised destiny, to reclaim Demesne for themselves. He will never take me as his queen there.

“Then die here now,” says Kelos. “Demesne belongs to ReplicaPharm. You should be grateful you’ll even be allowed to finish your lives.”

“We’ll be prisoners there,” says Aidan.

“Prisoners of paradise,” Kelos amends. He addresses the android soldiers flanking his holo-beam. “Bring me the girl.”

The soldiers’ red eyes scan, landing first on me, and then on Elysia. Instantly, two soldiers surround me, and then Elysia, and effortlessly lift us off the ground. They swiftly,
effortlessly carry us to Kelos and deposit us in front of his holo-beam.

“Fascinating,” says Kelos, observing us. “A clone and her First. That’s certainly a…first.” He chuckles at his own joke, while my heart pounds and sweat pours
from my face. Elysia reacts in the same way.

“Where’s Dr. Lusardi?” Elysia demands.

“Expired,” says Kelos.

“I will not go back to Demesne!” Elysia says.

“Then all these Emergents will die,” says Kelos. “Right now.” The soldiers uniformly aim their rifles at the Emergents.

Elysia doesn’t respond. What’s there to say? I know what she feels. She wishes she was dead already. She’s who they came looking for. She’s why they’re killing
Emergents. I feel the same
anguish
I see on her face. Like we’re complicit in this atrocity. She’s here because of me.

“You don’t believe me?” Kelos asks. “Let’s begin now. Soldiers, choose an example.”

A sniper soldier trains its rifle on Tawny and fires. She falls to the ground, dead.

Tawny finally found her role. Martyr.

My legs quiver and I think I’m going to pass out from shock. I can’t watch so much senseless murder. But I have no choice.

“Would you like another example?” Kelos asks. Before Elysia can answer, Kelos points at Catra, and the androids shoot Catra dead on the spot. I can’t even scream because bile
shoots up from my stomach and I resist every urge not to puke on the ground. Catra is dead. Catra is dead. I can’t believe it. She was fearless and inspiring, and in one random instant,
she’s killed because of this Kelos man’s whim. I never in my life thought Insurrection would end with a firing squad. I don’t know what exactly I thought it would be—but
certainly not this.

Enough! This is crazy! I’m ready to die now too. I’m about to volunteer, when Elysia cries out, “Kill me instead!”

“A pregnant clone? You’re too valuable for death,” says Kelos to Elysia.

There are dead bodies on the ground, and much more important issues still to be explained, but still, I sputter, “How do you know?” I thought no one besides the clones on this island
knew that Elysia is pregnant.

Kelos regards me like I’m a nuisance. “ReplicaPharm acquired the healer’s island too. The one who calls herself M-X. In order to maintain her solitude on that island, she
helpfully led us to this island, and informed us of the Beta’s condition. She even suggested the ‘mosh’ night might be the best time for us to arrive with our announcement. The
logistics were so much easier when you were all already in one place. Nice gal, M-X.”

“My father is in the Uni-Mil!” I cry out. “He won’t let you take us away!”

Kelos regards me now like I’m a wounded animal he can’t decide whether to put out of its misery. He says, “Your father is in military prison for treason. Aiding and abetting
clones is not looked kindly upon by judicial courts. Oh, right. The Uni-Mil has no courts. Your father will die in prison. You can join him there, if you want.”

“NOOO!” I scream. Instinctively, I start to lunge toward Kelos, even if he’s not a physical presence, but before the soldiers can pull me back, Aidan points his blue finger in
my direction and a small red cloud erupts around my perimeter, holding the soldiers back.

“Thank you,” says Kelos to Aidan. “We’ve been looking for the clone who was able to do that. We’ve been monitoring your odd weather patterns from satellite
surveillance. Soldiers, deliver that Defect directly back to the lab. The research team will need to do a thorough dismantling of his body before he’s expired.”

I close my eyes. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I can’t watch it happen. Aidan revealed his power to them just to protect me, and now they will torture and then
kill him for that sacrifice.

I’m powerless. I can’t even say good-bye.
No, Aidan,
my heart cries.
NO!
Insurrection was supposed to mean that if we died in battle, at least we died together.

This time, Elysia latches on to my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Cease!” Elysia commands Kelos. “We accept your terms.”

“Excellent,” says Kelos. He sighs wistfully. “Demesne’s not such a bad place to be exiled. The rest of the world envies you. You may be confined to Demesne for the
remainder of your lives, but take solace. Humans in the rest of the world would kill for such a death sentence.”

I AM A KILLER.

I already was one, but on Heathen the Aquine trained me to be a better one. With a machete, he taught me to massacre coconuts from palm trees. Those are the pleasant kills. When I split open a
coconut, it gives me a sweet juice that glides down my throat and cools off my body on a hot day, as if the coconut wants to reward my efforts to slay it. With a spear, he taught me to stand in
shallow waters and catch fish. The reward: we eat. The drawback: these creatures are sentient. They struggle. They suffer.

Soon, the ReplicaPharm doctor is going to cut me open with a knife and remove the unwanted beast in my belly. The reward: my freedom from it. The drawback: I am still the humans’
prisoner.

With a knife, I killed the human boy Ivan. I was supposed to be his companion. There was struggle, and suffering, but never a reward. Ivan was strangling me to death, and I fought back. I acted
on an instinct for self-preservation, which a Demesne clone isn’t supposed to have. Clones should never think or act for themselves. Their only instincts should be to serve humans, not to
slay them.

Ivan’s killing led only to more suffering—for his human family, and for the Beta who slayed him.

Destruction. I guess I’m good at it.

The Demesne property owners let us believe we were the best-quality clones, just like they were better humans, because they were rich. We were created from Firsts chosen specifically for
superior physical attributes. Only the fittest and best-looking clones were appropriate to serve on their most exclusive island, designed for only the most special people—at least,
that’s how they considered themselves. Better than everyone else.

So many lies.

Demesne clones are not special clones, just like their human owners are not better people because they are rich. The Demesne clones are just like them, which is a disappointment. We love. We
hate. We suffer. We cause suffering.

I want to be better than the humans, but I was always just like them. Awful.

“Do you want to see the baby?” asks the doctor while he looks at the fetus on a monitor, in preparation for the extraction. I’m back in the very room where I first emerged, the
medical laboratory on Demesne that used to be headed by Dr. Lusardi and is now owned by ReplicaPharm. RP owns me, too, now. And the thing inside me. The doctor is preparing to take the fetus from
my belly and place it into an artificial womb machine that will incubate it until the fetus reaches forty weeks. Then it will be emerged and live its life as a scientific research specimen.

Enjoy the remainder of your gestation, fetus. The artificial womb machine will probably love you and take care of you better than I ever could. The humans certainly won’t, once you
emerge.

“No, I don’t want to see it.” I turn my head away and close my eyes.

Wanting, I have learned, is the seed of human terror. If it were not for humans wanting something—money, power, dominant ideology—there would be no need for them to cause so much
suffering. Most of the suffering the humans inflict is on each other—that is, until they had to go and create clones, to replicate their suffering anew.

I want all this suffering to stop, already. I open my arms and let out a wild roar, like a banshee’s howl.

The doctor looks surprised but is not flustered. “Sedate her,” says the doctor to the nurse.

Such sweet relief.

It’s like I’m floating through a rose-hued abyss, powered by mellow-making ’raxia. My skin tingles, my face glows. I am happy. Free. There is nothing to see, so I close my eyes
to enjoy the moment. A familiar male voice calls to me.
Hey, gorgeous
. My heart surges and my eyes burst open. Tahir!

Please don’t let this be a dream. Please don’t let this be a dream.

He’s dressed in white board shorts with no shirt, exposing his lean, mahogany-skinned chest. He smiles at me, full cherry lips over bright white teeth. “I missed you,” he says,
holding out his arms to me. His black hair is braided in cornrows that curl at the loose ends, like little halos encompassing his beautiful neck.

I run to him, flinging myself against his chest as he hugs me close. There’s so much I need to know.
Where have you been? Are you Awful? How did you find me again?

I want to savor him before I inundate him with questions. I pull back and look up, at his face, which offers me the sweetest smile ever. His smile! I remember now. When he offered his
charismatic
smile to his family and friends, he imitated First Tahir. But when he smiled at me, the smile was his own: quiet, subtle—a gift just for me.

I press my lips into Tahir’s and feel superb warmth spread across my body. Because of him, I understand excitement and happiness—but also, fear. Because of Tahir, I understand why
Zhara hurts so badly from losing Alex. When real happiness is achieved, it can only be partnered with a fear of losing it.

“Now that we’ve found each other again, I can never let you go,” Tahir says.

“I’ll die before ever letting you go again,” I say.

But behind Tahir stands the Aquine.

Of course this had to be a dream. It was too good to be true.

“I love you,” Alex says to me. He opens his arms, inviting me to choose him over Tahir.

Alex had years of knowing and loving Zhara, but he barely knows me. How could he possibly
love
me? Alex imprinted his feelings for Zhara onto her Beta before he knew she was alive. His
race’s design flaw, I suppose. Once they imprint, their loyalty can’t undo that feeling. Too bad for him.

“I love you, too,” I reassure Alex.

I am a killer, and a liar.

When I wake, I see my face—the non-branded, human version of it. The one that had parents and a childhood and a choice about how to live her life, before she had to go
and destroy it.