Evolution (4 page)

Their faces fall into my head, one by one: Laila, Ella, Oliver, Buck, James. People I knew in the Surface work camp, Karum prison, the Core, and the Alliance. People I cared about. All dead because of the Developers.

 

3

Sam calls the strategy meeting into session an hour before midnight. He only permits eight people into the main cabin upstairs: Lieutenant Dean and the two soldiers in the squadron with corporal rank; Beechy, Skylar, and the other two head pilots; and Fiona, since she's working on fixing the radio transmitter in the cockpit.

The rest of us are stuck waiting downstairs in the cargo bay. It's emptier than the last time I was in here, since most of the boxes of ammunition were used to blow up Alliance headquarters. But there are several supply crates stacked against the walls, stocked with rations and other rudimentary supplies we'd need to survive aboard the hovercraft for an extended period of time.

The soldiers have laid out bedrolls on the floor. A couple people are trying to catch a few winks of sleep, but most are huddled in groups talking in low voices, or standing by the open air-lock doors looking out at the snow swirling in the darkness. Four patrolmen are stationed on watch outside, ready to alert us in case of a raider sighting. But the storm's getting worse by the minute, and I doubt they'll be able to see any enemy ships until it's too late.

I can't sit still, so I pace back and forth near where Darren rests on one of the bedrolls with his injured leg propped up on a pillow. Someone bandaged it while I was unconscious, and he doesn't seem to be in pain anymore. He's wide awake, looking around at the other people in the room, his eyes narrowing with distrust. A couple soldiers keep glancing in our direction, including the one patrolling the room—the soldier who met us when we first arrived at the hovercraft. I bet Sam told him to keep an eye on the two of us.

“I don't like this,” Darren says in a low voice, almost a growl. “I wish they'd hurry up with the meeting.”

“So do I.” They've been talking for almost thirty minutes. I should've argued my way in so I could hurry along the decision making, but it wasn't worth potentially compromising the truce we made with Sam.

Every minute we're stuck in the valley, I can't help fearing what we're going to find once we're able to see beyond these mountains. A barren wasteland with bombs raining from a sky swarmed with Mardenite raiders? A Surface completely destroyed?

The years I lived on the Surface were terrible. I was so hungry some days I wished for death. I witnessed kids tortured and worked until they bled in the fields. I saw them dragged away to kill chambers when they turned twenty and it was time for them to be replaced. I dreamed of being Extracted. It was the only thing that kept me sane.

But this place is still my home more than the Core. The thousands of child workers trapped in the city where I grew up are my family more than anyone else. Just because the Developers believe all those young men and women are nothing more than bodies to be used and cast by the wayside doesn't mean they deserve to die.

If they deserve to die, so do the rest of us. There's no reason we're more special than any of them, no matter what the Developers might say.

Pacing is starting to make me restless. I stop walking and drop onto the bedroll beside Darren's, pulling the blanket over me to block out the chilly air coming in through the open air-lock doors.

“You know something?” Darren says. “I don't understand how this happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Mardenite army appearing out of nowhere. An entire fleet of ships shouldn't have arrived without any warning. The Developers, at least, should've known they were coming.”

I'm confused by what he means, because we did know the army was coming. Then I remember: Darren, Sandy, and the other rebels who stayed behind in the Alliance compound have been completely in the dark. Beechy and I only found out Marden's fleet was on its way after we were captured and taken to the Core, and we didn't have a way to get a message to our friends. There's a lot we haven't had a chance to tell them.

I hesitate, not sure where to begin. “There wasn't zero warning. Astronomers in the Core picked up the fleet's position over a week ago. Commander Charlie had them continue tracking its movements, so we knew it was supposed to arrive within the next few days.”

The fleet was supposed to enter Kiel's gravity pull two days from now. Either the scientists miscalculated its trajectory, or the battle stations turned on secondary engines and picked up a lot of speed in the last few hours. Any warning the Core might've tried to transmit to Sam's squadron wouldn't have reached us after we made it to the Surface, since the radio transmitters have been facing interference.

Darren raises an eyebrow. “So Charlie thought it would be a good idea to send troops to the Surface and demolish our headquarters, knowing his soldiers could end up stranded here?”

“Like I said, we were supposed to have more time. Charlie wanted his daughter safely underground before the fleet arrived.” As I say the words, I realize there is the possibility Charlie lied. He could've known the fleet would arrive tonight and sent us to the Surface with the intention of stranding us here.

Except I can't think of any reason he would've wanted Sam and the rest of his squadron dead. And if he did, why would he have wasted ships and ammunition to blow up Alliance headquarters? No, Charlie must've been as thrown off guard by the army's arrival as the rest of us.

Darren frowns. “I see.… What about the rest of the Alliance?”

I sift through my memories, thinking back to what Charlie said in the meeting room in Recreation Division, the night before we left for the Surface. “His instructions were to capture all of you alive, unless you put up too much of a fight. He didn't say what he plans to do with you once you're in the Core.”

“The commander told you all of this?” Darren asks, skepticism in his voice.

“I was at the strategy meeting for the mission,” I say stiffly.

“Huh. Well, that seems convenient.”

I narrow my eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You're telling me he captured you while you were working undercover for the Alliance, took you back to the Core, and gave you a spot in his strategy meeting? It sounds more like you went over to his side willingly in exchange for him sparing your life.”

He's accusing me of being a traitor. I'm so angry, I can barely speak. “You want to know what happened? His soldiers captured me in Crust after I'd blown up the control room in their security hub. They locked me in a cell and starved me for more days than I could keep track of. Then they blindfolded me, dragged me into a hovercraft, and took me to the Core, where Charlie threatened me and forced me to inject myself with a new strand of his serum that was powerful enough to control me. I couldn't disobey any of his commands, not a single one. He forced me to shoot Logan, and I had to do it. He forced me to help Sam invade our headquarters and capture all of you, and I couldn't say no. I was fighting the serum the whole time, as hard as I could, and I managed to break free of it before I could hurt anyone else. I fought for the Alliance again even though Charlie threatened to kill Logan if I did. So don't you dare accuse me of working with him.”

Darren holds up his hands. “I'm sorry—I didn't mean to accuse you of anything, I swear.” He looks a little afraid of me. “I don't think you're a traitor. I'd just … heard some things about you, and I wasn't sure.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, now confused as well as angry. Darren and I weren't good friends at the Alliance compound. All I knew about him was he was one of the fighter pilots who volunteered for the recon mission to the Surface city. The most interaction we'd had before today was when I accidentally shot down his ship after he returned, mistaking it for a Core transport. My stomach pinches at the memory. It wasn't my proudest moment. Another Alliance rebel, Cady, died because of my incompetence—because I was letting my fears have too much power over my actions.

But I've grown stronger since then. I don't let my fears control me anymore. I shouldn't let anger control me either, so I take a deep breath and exhale.

Darren seems to sense I'm calming down, so he answers me. “I know you're the one who helped Beechy fly Charlie's bomb contraption to the moon and destroy the acid generator. And I know before that, you escaped from Karum prison, where you were sent because he couldn't control you with his serum. You've done plenty of things that should've angered the Developers, yet they keep pardoning you. It just seems strange.”

“It's not like I'm the only rebel they've pardoned,” I say. “They pardoned Beechy too.”

“Yes, but Beechy's different. He's Commander Charlie's son-in-law, even if he is a rebel,” Darren says slowly. “You, you're just another Extraction. So I've been wondering … what makes you more special than the rest of us?”

I bite my lip. I know exactly why Darren is confused, because I've been wondering the same thing. After I was captured and taken to Commander Charlie in the Core, he told me the reason he's kept me alive more than once is because I have a higher intellectual capacity than any Extraction he's ever met, and because he's fascinated by my reaction to his control serums. He called my genes “remarkable” and said he's been observing me since I was a little girl.

But there must be more to it than what he was telling me. I'm not the only person who's been able to fight his serums, nor am I the only Extraction with high intelligence. There's a bigger reason he keeps forgiving me for my disobedience and trying to control me, despite how many times he's failed. As soon as we make it back to the Core, I'm going to find out what it is.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door leading to the main cabin open at the top of the staircase. The strategy meeting is finally over. I get to my feet as Sam steps out onto the landing.

“Attention, everyone,” he says, tense authority in his posture. The other soldiers immediately quiet down. “Twenty minutes ago, we sent an emergency transmission to the Core to let them know our position and request assistance. We have yet to receive a response. It's possible they heard our transmission and the signal's interference is preventing their response from reaching us, or our transmission may not have reached them at all. But as long as we stay on the Surface, we remain in danger. So, we've decided to prepare for immediate departure. The corporals and head pilots will pass out your mission assignments.”

Four soldiers move through the door behind Sam and head down the staircase. Beechy and Skylar aren't with them; they must've been assigned as the hovercraft pilots.

“We're hopeful the flight path to the Pipeline will be clear,” Sam says. “But we need to prepare for the possibility we'll run into enemy raiders. It's imperative you all stay alert and follow any commands you're given. If you have any questions, direct them to your assigned mission leader.” He casts a solemn look around the room. “Good luck.”

Turning on his heel, Sam heads back into the main cabin. Dean steps out onto the landing a moment later.

The corporals and head pilots begin shouting everyone's mission assignments. There's a flurry of movement around the cargo bay. Soldiers roll up the beds and stuff them back into the supply crates. Others hurry into the weapons locker to arm themselves with better guns before heading down the boarding ramp to go to their assigned X-wing.

“Can you help me up?” Darren asks, wincing as he tries to stand up on his own.

I take his arms and help him to his feet.

“Thanks,” he says.

Lieutenant Dean's coming down the staircase. When he reaches the bottom, he walks over to the two of us. “You were both assigned to the hovercraft crew. Head upstairs and buckle in. Switch on your ear-comm.”

I twist the dial at the base of my helmet. Static comes through the speaker, but there's a lot less than there was earlier tonight. Whatever Fiona did to strengthen the radio signal definitely helped lower the interference, thank goodness. The hovercraft pilot needs to be able to communicate with the X-wings once we're up in the air.

Darren starts for the staircase, limping on his wounded leg. I move after him so I can help him climb the stairs, but Dean touches my shoulder to stop me. “Wait.”

I turn around. “What?”

He glances over his shoulder, then beckons me to follow him behind a supply crate, out of view of the other soldiers. I hesitate, but go with him. Once we're there, Dean pulls out one of the small pulse guns he carries in his holster belt and pushes it into my hands. “Keep this with you. Don't let anyone take it.”

I tuck it into my holster belt. I doubt Sam wants me carrying a weapon, but I don't care. I feel much safer with a gun on my person. “Thanks.”

Dean takes a step closer to me and drops his voice. “If anything goes wrong on our way to the Core, promise me you'll do everything you can to stay unharmed.” He touches my shoulder, and I frown. His eyes are intense, almost fearful. “If we're shot down, you need to get yourself as far away from the ship as you can and take cover. Don't worry about anyone else. Just save yourself. Understand?”

I frown. He wants me to abandon the other rebels—my friends—if we end up under attack. I couldn't possibly do that.

“Do you understand?” Dean repeats.

I can see he's not going to take no for an answer. “Yes, I do,” I say. “I will.”

“Good,” he says, releasing his grip on my shoulder. He pauses, as if he might say something more.

“Lieutenant Dean!” A soldier calls his name.

Without another word, Dean moves past me. I almost stop him. I want to ask him why he cares so much about protecting me, and if it has anything to do with why Commander Charlie pardoned me when he captured me in Crust.