Evolution (17 page)

Her expression slowly softens, as does her voice when she answers, “Perhaps we can't. But we can try. We
will
try. It's not about control, Clementine; it's about their safety. I don't expect you to understand. But I would encourage you not to question our policies, lest we misconstrue your words as treason. We've pardoned you for your past crimes, but we won't pardon you if you commit more.” There's a warning in her piercing green eyes.

I swallow hard. “I apologize. I meant no disrespect. I'm sure I don't understand leadership strategies the way you do.”

Regina lets out a small, pealing laugh. “No, you don't. You've never had to lead a civilization, have you?”

I shake my head.

“Exactly. So leave your worries to me, my dear.” Her tone is full of condescension, and she pats me on the head like I'm a small child.

Whatever she says, I'm sure she cares about her own power more than the people's safety, just like Commander Charlie. They're both nothing but selfish monsters. Still, when she smiles at me, I force myself to smile back. The only thing helping me ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach is I am already thinking of ways to overthrow the Developers. For now I will do what I have to.

The door to the other room opens, and Dr. Jeb and Charlie come back in. On the other side of the glass, the nurses are unhooking Dean and Skylar from the machines. There's feverish excitement in Dr. Jeb's face.

“It worked!” he says. “The subjects' symptoms are completely gone. We have a resistance serum.”

This means we can go through with the plan I'd proposed; we don't have to detonate the Strykers. Relief overwhelms me.

“We owe this to you, Clementine,” Commander Charlie says. He hands the vial he was holding to me. “Thank you for your service.”

I turn the vial over in my hand. The liquid inside is silver with swirls of violet.

“How long will it take to have a batch ready?” Regina asks.

“Give me two hours,” Dr. Jeb says, “and you'll have what you need.”

“Wonderful,” Charlie says. His eyes shine with anticipation. “We'll begin preparations so our troops can depart for the Surface city as soon as the batch is ready.”

 

17

By the time I've changed back into normal clothes and returned to Restricted Division, word has gone out to all the soldiers shipping out today. There are a hundred things going on, what with the Developers going over their strategy with the military leaders, and transports in the flight ports being stocked with weapons and supplies. I'm allowed to sit in on the strategy meeting to hear the discussion of tactics, but I don't end up needing to chime in. Commander Charlie and the other Developers keep their word and order their leaders to carry out the plan I proposed.

There's a moment after the meeting when I'm suddenly struck with a pang of worry. I overhear one of the corporals talking about the lack of Mods he has in his squadron, requesting for soldiers with stronger modifications to be shipped to the Surface. The corporal's eyes dart to me, and Commander Charlie's eyes follow.

I'm terrified he's going to order me to go with the troops. I should've made it clear in my conditions that he couldn't ship me out in the first wave. I want to fight, but not until we're ready to target the Mardenite battle stations.

I'm too far away to hear Charlie's answer. After the corporal leaves, I hurry over to him. “I'm not going to the Surface,” I say.

“Of course not,” Commander Charlie says. “We can't afford to lose our most useful Mod subject at a time like this. No, you'll remain in the Core. I'm giving you a special apartment in Restricted Division, so you'll be closer to all the important happenings.”

So he can keep a closer eye on me, he means. But I'll take it, if it means I'll remain far from the warfront a little longer.

*   *   *

Five squadrons depart for the Surface at eight o' clock. Thirty soldiers in each squadron. Five men in each battleship. They'll begin targeting raiders early tomorrow morning, hopefully before the Mardenites launch another attack against the city. Meanwhile, probes will be sent to investigate the battle stations, so we can rescue our prisoners as soon as possible and take out the power source of the fleet.

I watch the soldiers board their transports in the Core's biggest flight hangar. Men and women in uniform file into the ships one by one. A lot of these soldiers used to be stationed in the other lower sectors—Crust, Mantle, and Lower. But after the arrival of Marden's army, many were transferred to the Core for safety. Now they're the ones being shipped out, while soldiers and pilots like Lieutenant Dean and Skylar are staying behind. The Developers have faith in the mission, but not enough to risk sending their best officials.

I can only hope the resistance serum the soldiers will be given once they're aboard their ships will be enough to protect them from the Mardenite chemical weapons, should they end up on the ground in poison fog. But the serum won't save them from any other weapons they might come in contact with. Only the skill of their pilots and generals can do that.

A young woman in uniform walks past me, led by two soldiers. A prisoner. When I see her face, I nearly have a heart attack. She looks exactly like Fiona. But Fiona's dead. I left her body burning in the engine room of the hovercraft.

Immediately, I realize who she is—Paley, Fiona's twin. She's holding her head high, looking dignified even as she's being led with her wrists cuffed behind her back. Charlie must be sending her to the Surface.

I push through the crowd of soldiers to reach her, but there are too many people. And the guards are leading Paley farther and farther away. Soon she disappears inside one of the transports.

I turn back around. I need to find Charlie. He and the other Developers are up in a viewing room above the flight hangar, overseeing the whole operation. I can see their figures through a glass window.

On my way to the staircase that leads up to the viewing room, I nearly crash into Skylar. “Careful,” she says.

“Did you know?” I ask.

Her brows furrow. “Did I know what?”

“The Developers are sending Alliance prisoners to the Surface. I just saw Paley boarding one of the transports.”

“Oh,” Skylar says. “Yes, I knew.”

“Who else are they sending?” I ask.

“Lieutenant Malcolm's name was also on the dispatch list. And Jensen. I don't know how many others, but I'd assume most of the people they captured in Crust and Mantle.”

“How many more did they capture?”

“Everyone. All the rebels they had on their list.”

This is Skylar's fault. Beechy only gave the Developers a partial list of the rebels who were working undercover in the lower sectors. Skylar gave up the rest of the names. I wish the Developers had sent her to the Surface too.

I push past her and continue toward the staircase, before my anger gets the best of me.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I don't answer.

*   *   *

I find Commander Charlie in the viewing room, smiling down at the flight port. The other Developers have left to take care of business elsewhere. Only two guards remain, stationed by the door. They don't let me enter until Charlie gives me clearance.

“What can I do for you, Clementine?” he asks.

“You lied to me,” I say.

“Excuse me?”

“You promised you'd pardon the other Alliance prisoners. Instead, you're sending them to the Surface and forcing them to fight.”

“I promised they'd be pardoned
if
they cooperate with our war efforts,” he says calmly. “That includes following any orders from their commanders. If your friends make it back to the Core and remain cooperative, I can assure you they will be forgiven for their crimes.”

If
they make it back to the Core. He knows he might've sent Paley and Mal and all the others to their deaths. I bet he's hoping they won't come back. He doesn't want to pardon those of us who've fought against him; he wants to get rid of us one by one.

I'm sure he'll try to get rid of me too after he's gotten everything he needs from me.

“One of my guards will take you to your new apartment,” Charlie says, signaling one of the men by the door.

“I want to visit Logan on the way,” I say.

“You won't find him in his cell.”

The warmth drains from my face. Charlie wasn't supposed to move him without my permission. “Where is he?”

“I've transferred him to your apartment.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in: Charlie released Logan from his prison cell. “Really?” I ask, hesitant to believe Charlie's telling the truth.

“Yes. I ordered his transfer an hour ago.” Charlie chuckles at my disbelief. “You cooperated so well with the Mod tests, I thought you deserved something bigger in return. And I know how much you care about the boy. I know you see me as something of a monster, Clementine, but I assure you I can be a kind, reasonable man.”

I return his fake smile with one of my own. I can play along with this game.

“Thank you so much, Commander.” The gratitude in my voice is real. “I promise I'll keep cooperating.”

“No, thank
you
,” Charlie says, his smile deepening. “Thanks to your help creating our new serum, we have much more hope of winning the war.”

*   *   *

The apartment the guard takes me to is more luxurious than any I've seen before, even the other rooms I've had in the Core. The bed is huge, but there are also two lounge chairs and a sofa, positioned in front of a CorpoBot screen that's almost as big as the bed. A remote on one of the dressers switches on a simulation of a starscape, a peaceful ocean, or a forest on all four walls. If I wanted, I could fall asleep surrounded by starlight. The comforter on the bed is made of silk, and the sheets are the warmest cotton. There's a heater built into the bed that makes it even warmer. A screen on one of the walls spits out food and hot or cold drinks from a slot at the press of a button.

This apartment isn't built for someone like me; it's built for a Developer or a military leader. Clearly, Commander Charlie is trying to appease me. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't working a little bit.

The guard gives me a special wristband—a comm-band, he calls it—that I'm supposed to wear at all times. It will allow the Developers and their personnel to send messages to me, calling me for strategy meetings and the like.

A few minutes after the guard leaves, Logan comes out of the connecting bathroom, wearing only a towel wrapped around his lower half. His skin and hair are cleaner than they've ever been, finally rid of the dirt and grime from all the years he spent in the Surface work camp. He took showers in the Alliance compound, but nothing compares to the power of the steam-cleans here in the Core.

It's been so long since I've seen him like this, without the threat of someone coming to drag him away and never let me see him again. I can sense Logan realizing the same thing. Our eyes lock together in the silence, the weight of the horrible days we were apart crushing between us.

He hobbles toward me on his crutches, and I rush to him from where I'm standing in front of the CorpoBot screen. He kisses my face and wipes away the tears welling up in my eyes. I run my hands over his bare shoulders and chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin. This boy I almost lost time and time again. He's here and he's alive and he's not leaving. Emotion bubbles up and I realize I'm speaking nonsense. But no words are needed, not right now.

We cling to each other for a long time, until Logan can't take standing on his hurt leg anymore. Moving over to the bed, he leans his crutches against the wall. He sits down on the bed and pulls me to him, kisses my mouth tenderly. His heart is beating almost as fast as mine.

I lean back onto the bed, pulling Logan with me, and kiss him some more. His towel starts to come undone and my nervousness gets the best of me. Sure, I've thought about this before. But there's a difference between wanting something and being ready for it.

I pull away, blushing, and Logan realizes what's happening. He quickly fixes the towel and climbs off me. “I'll go change into some real clothes,” he says.

“Okay,” I say.

He disappears into the closet. While I wait for him to change, I switch on the starscape simulator. All the lights dim except for the lights on the walls and the ceiling, tiny pinpricks of stars glowing reds and purples and greens and oranges. I'm surrounded by a million of them, shimmering amid the darkness of space. They look so real, I might be able to step through the wall and float among them.

When Logan comes back out, he pauses for a moment, awed by the view. A comet shoots across the ceiling. “Commander Charlie has outdone himself,” he says. “I didn't think he'd try so hard to win you over.”

“Neither did I,” I say. “It's not going to work, though. I won't forgive him, even if he helps us win the war.”

“Good,” Logan says, hobbling back over to the bed. He sits down again, putting his crutches back against the wall. “Because I have a feeling he'll stop playing nice soon. He's trying to distract us so we might not notice. We need to keep paying attention.”

“I know.”

Logan climbs under the covers, and I slip in beside him. He could've chosen silk pajamas from the closet, but he's wearing a simple set of trousers and a tunic like me. Clothes of the sort we used to wear in the camp. I'm glad; it would be strange seeing him in anything different.

Another comet shoots across the ceiling overhead.

“Remember when we used to sit outside the shack and watch the stars?” Logan asks. “On the roof, or on those boulders at the edge of the camp.”