Stitch (21 page)

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I must acknowledge my fiancé, Sudeep, for all of your dedication and assistance.  Though your hypersensitivity to plot holes has ruined many enjoyable movies for me over the years, that critical eye was truly invaluable in strengthening my own work.  You really made this project as much a priority as I did, and I am so grateful for all of your help and encouragement and love.  This would have been a very different book without you.

To Mom, Dad, Mahe, Mikey, Nicky, Sam, Levin, Diane, Joan, Mel, Mayuree, Laura, Morgan, Carmen, Selina, Tina, Uncle Tom, and Anne Marie – thank you for bearing with me through the early drafts and for all of your feedback and support.  Your enthusiasm was all the motivation I needed to make this dream a reality, and I very much appreciate how much time all of you have dedicated to making this a better book.

To those listed above and all of my extended family and friends, thank you for your boundless support in everything that I do.  Your unconditional love has always given me the strength to follow my dreams, and I am truly blessed to have you all in my life.

To all the great teachers I’ve had over the years, especially Mr. Scanlon and Ms. Meehan, thank you for pushing me to hone my craft and to believe in my abilities as a writer.  I would never have had the confidence to pursue writing as a career without your training and praise, and I am forever in your debt.

To the authors of my favorite stories – J. K. Rowling, Stephanie Meyer, Suzanne Collins, Christopher Paolini, Sharon Shinn, C. S. Lewis, Jane Austen, and many others – thank you for sharing your creativity with the world.  I was a reader of novels long before becoming a writer of them, and the enchantment that your tales have brought to my life is what inspired me to compose my own.

And last, but certainly not least, endless love and affection for my Gio, for being my faithful assistant and for always keeping my lap warm.

About the Author

Samantha Durante lives in New York City with her fiancé, Sudeep, and her cat, Gio.  Formerly an engineer at Microsoft, Samantha left the world of software in 2010 to pursue her entrepreneurial dreams and a lifelong love of writing.  A graduate of the University of Pennsylvania's Jerome Fisher Program in Management & Technology, Samantha is currently working full time for her company Medley Media Associates as a freelance business writer and communications consultant.  This is her first novel.

Visit
www.samanthadurante.com
to join the Stitch community and sign up for updates about upcoming Stitch trilogy releases.

Read on for a Sneak Preview of
Shudder

The riveting sequel to
Stitch
…

Epilogue: Fury

The General slammed his fist on the table, the noise reverberating through the large room.  “This is completely unacceptable.”

The Developer rested his elbows on the table, one lanky arm bending as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.  He let out a long sigh before leaning back in his chair, tossing his shaggy, unkempt hair back in an awkward motion.  He waited for the grumbling to subside before he spoke – as the youngest billionaire on the planet, he’d grown used to having a captive audience.

“This rebellion has become more than a headache; it’s putting our plans for Paragon at risk, and it’s time we take more drastic measures to resolve the problem.  We should never have let it get this far.”  His whiny voice and slouching shoulders didn’t command much in the way of esteem, but the four other men in the room – the Engineers, as they liked to call themselves – sat rapt nevertheless.  They had quickly learned that what the Developer lacked in presence and age, he made up for with brilliance and guile.

“If I may…” The Economist cleared his throat.  Though this was technically a group of equals, he often found himself deferring to the others, being more comfortable with books than he ever was with people.  But if their plans for Paragon were ever to succeed, this group above all else needed to keep their focus on the end game, instead of allowing themselves to be sidetracked by minor setbacks.

He continued.  “It’s only two people, and given the weather forecast, it’s unlikely that they’ll even make it through the week.  How much trouble could they cause?  I vote that we let them go and focus our efforts instead on reaching our goals for the collective.  It’s been years since the deliberations have made any real progress and –”

The Doctor cut off his remarks with one biting look.  “Only two people?  And what
traits
might those two people be carrying that are essential to our race?  Do you
presume
to know why they were chosen for Paragon?  Presume to
decide
who here is expendable?”

“N-n-no… I just…”  He took a moment to compose himself.  “We’re supposed to be working toward a true communist society, and every day that the Ruling Class remains in power, we are one more step away from achieving that goal.  The only reason the rebellion thrives today is due to the continued existence of the Ruling Class, so to me it seems that recapturing a couple of rebels is treating the symptom, not the cause.  Let them go, and instead let’s put our energies towards facilitating the deliberation process, thereby hastening the birth of the ideal society that was the entire
reason
for this whole undertaking.”

The Doctor’s silver hair glinted in the sharp artificial light as he devoted his entire head to the effort of rolling his eyes.  “Save your pretty rhetoric, Ben.  There won’t
be
any society if we don’t have the genes to support one.”

The Developer nodded vigorously in agreement.  “He’s right.  The algorithm was very specific in who was selected, and we need to trust that everyone here deserved to be chosen.  Otherwise, what was the point of everything we did?”

Everyone took a moment to digest his last comment.  They had agreed from the beginning that sacrifices would be needed to make this work, and indeed those sacrifices had been huge – the biggest the world had ever seen.  But they had only agreed to the plan knowing that it was the only way to do this right, and that everyone would benefit in the end.  Everyone who was left, anyway.

“So what are you suggesting?”  The Draftsman – the oldest and most levelheaded of the group – spoke, as always, in a steady, reasoned tone, absentmindedly stroking his paunch.

Before the Developer could respond, the General chimed in with a suggestion of his own, his raspy voice filled with retribution.  “We have the girl, the one that helped them escape.  I say we make an example of her, send a message to the rebels that we won’t tolerate their insubordination any longer.”  As he rubbed the scar across his lips, he muttered, “Stupid bitch.”

The Draftsman wondered if he was referring to the girl or to the rebel leader, but either way, he dismissed his comments as bluster.  Over the years he’d come to despise the General’s deep insecurities, and his resulting tendency to overcompensate.  It was a shame, really – the man had a magnificent reserve of military knowledge, but his personal flaws marred his usefulness considerably.  And at least the rest of them had actually
achieved
the titles they’d chosen for themselves – the General had never earned that rank at all, he’d just christened himself upon finding that he had the power to do so.  To say that the Draftsman found the General trying was an understatement indeed.  But much to the Draftsman’s chagrin, the others had not yet come to the same conclusion. 

The Developer, in fact, seemed to be seriously considering a show of force.  Shaking his head, he reflected, “If only we knew where Regina Green were hiding… we could drop the girl’s head right at her front door.”

“That’s sick!” the Economist blurted, appalled.

The Doctor once again shot him down.  “Oh, please.  Like you haven’t agreed to worse.”

As barbaric as it was, the Draftsman had to admit that the Doctor spoke the truth.  “Eugene has a point there – we’ve
all
agreed to worse.  ‘The ends justify the means’ has been a de facto tenet of our philosophy…”

“Thank you, Pascal.”  The withering glare subsided from the Doctor’s face.  “Now, as I said before, I don’t like the idea of tinkering with the algorithm’s selections, but in this one case, I suppose we could make an exception.  After all, she wasn’t part of the original results set to begin with.”

Chastised, the Economist held his tongue while the others nodded in agreement.

The Developer stood, signaling that the meeting had come to a close.  “Then it’s decided.  We’ll use the girl to send a message.  Given that we
don’t
know Regina’s location, everyone think about what might be our most effective strategy and we’ll reconvene in the morning to finalize the plan.  And remember, as distasteful as this might be, the rebels haven’t left us much choice.”

He held his right fist at his shoulder in the customary gesture, and the others stood and followed suit.  “For Paragon,” he stated, accompanying the sentiment with an almost imperceptible nod of the head.

The room echoed in unison as the men added their response, each earnestly believing the mantra in his own way.  “For Paragon, always.”