Unchanged (22 page)

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Authors: Jessica Brody

BOOK: Unchanged
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“Diotech is trying to help people,” I tell him boldly.

“Diotech is trying to
control
people.”

No!
a voice screams in my head.
Don't listen to him. He's trying to lure you back in. He's trying to deceive you again.


That's
a lie,” I assert, keeping my voice stern.

“Like all the other lies I told you?” He smirks, the sarcasm still thick in his tone.

“Yes.”

He takes a step toward me. I instinctively take a step back. “So when I told you I loved you?”

I feel my legs starting to wobble. “Lie.”

He takes another step. I retreat again. The tent wall is at my back now. I can't move any farther.

“And when I told you I'd always protect you?”

He's too close. His scent has reached me. It's masked by a layer of sweat and dirt, but my nose can still identify it. My mind can still pair it to memories.

Memories that should
keep
me from him.

Not draw me in.

“Lie,” I say again.

Another step and he's upon me. His nose is inches from mine. The air that leaves his mouth is the same air I breathe in. “And when I told you I'd never stop looking for you?”

My throat is dry. I try to wet it but there's nothing to swallow.

Somehow, I am no longer cold. And I hate him for that.

I will my body to shiver again.

“Lie,” I finally manage to squeeze out. But even
I
can hear the waver in my own voice.

He smiles. It's not playful. It's not spiteful. It's something else.

“Yet here we both are,” he says.

His eyes travel to my lips. He watches them tremble. I press them tightly together.

“Don't,” I warn him, hoping it will make me seem strong. Resolved. No longer the girl who was so easily tempted by those lips.

His mouth lingers close. His nose brushes against the tip of mine.

“Don't what?” he asks, presuming innocence.

I can hear my heart thundering in my chest.

Can he hear it, too?

After everything we've been through together, does he just
know
it's racing?

“Are you afraid I'm going to kiss you?” he asks. “Is that what you think?”

I draw all the oxygen in the world into my lungs and hold it.

I
will
push him away. I
will
muster all the pitiful strength I have left and use it to put as much distance between us as this tiny tent will allow.

“I want to talk to the person in charge,” I assert, then I close my eyes. It's easier that way. Not to have to look at him.

I feel a rush of cold come back to me, like an arctic wind has swept in. When I open my eyes, he is already halfway out of the tent. “C'mon,” he mumbles, “I'll take you.”

 

35

HEROISM

I follow Lyzender out of the tent and into a world unlike anything I've ever seen. The site is so daunting and awe-inspiring that I involuntarily stop walking. It's nothing like the Diotech compound with its sleek metallic edges and synthetic walls and VersaScreens that will show you anything you want. It's nothing like the cities we visited on the tour with their skyscraping towers and bustling MagCar expressways.

This is not a city at all.

It's a camp.

In the middle of the desert. A desert that looks not too dissimilar from the landscape that surrounds the compound.

A dozen or so people flutter through the maze of tents and fold-up tables. Some stop to stare at me like I'm an alien visiting from another planet. Most are too busy to notice me.

I once received an upload about the ancient cultures of our world. Savages, the upload called them. Long before technology and science and modern amenities, there were people who lived like this. In tents. With no climatization. No power. No sturdy walls to keep intruders out.

I can feel how hot the air is. I can see it in the damp clothing of the passersby, the sheen of sweat on their foreheads and necks. But inside, my body is still frozen. How can I possibly be this cold in the middle of the desert?

So many questions filter through my mind at once.

What is this place?

Who are these people?

Before I can take another step into their strange, primitive village, the barrel of a shotgun is thrust against my right temple. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just make out the weapon's owner: a tall man with green eyes and a tired, pinched face.

“Where do you think you're going?” he barks at me.

“Jase,” Lyzender says, pushing the gun from my head. “It's fine. She's with me. I'm taking her to the war tent.”

“Why isn't she cuffed?”

Lyzender chuckles. “She's not going anywhere.”

I almost laugh at his ignorance. At his blind trust. Dr. A was right. Faith does make people stupid. If Lyzender thinks I have
any
loyalty to him—that I won't run from this place the moment I find the right window—then he's put his faith in the wrong person.

Jase looks unconvinced. Smart man.

“I'll take her there and escort her right back.” Lyzender's patience is dwindling. “She won't leave my sight.”

Has he completely lost his mind? Does he not remember how fast I can run? How strong I am? What makes him think he could stop me if I wanted to leave? The only reason I'm still standing here is because I choose to be.

The man stands firm, shaking his head. “No can do. Boss's orders. The girl is to remain in
this
tent.”

“I don't take orders from
your
boss,” Lyzender sneers.

“And I don't take orders from
you
.”

I glance around the camp, searching for guard towers or borders, but for some reason I can't seem to see past the next row of tents. When I try to focus on the horizon, my vision swims and smudges. Like I'm looking through a dirty window.

I blink hard. What is wrong with my eyes?

I can hear Kaelen's voice in my head, telling me what to do.

Don't wait.

Run, Sera. Get help. Count your steps, remember landmarks, and lead us back there.

He's right. I don't know who is in charge of this camp, but I can't wait around to find out. I have to get back to the compound. This is my chance to be a hero in Dr. A's eyes. To prove my redemption once and for all.

After this, he'll never be able to doubt my devotion to the Objective again. He'll never be able to look at me like I'm a traitor. He'll see me as he sees Kaelen. A confidante. A friend. A daughter.

Lyzender is still arguing with Jase. Would this man shoot me if I ran? Would he even be able to hit me?

It depends on how good his aim is. How fast his reflexes are.

Not that I wouldn't heal if he does turn out to be a good shot.

I gauge my best route, quickly determining it's behind me, around the back of this tent, which appears to be positioned at the far edge of the camp. I blink again in frustration but something still seems to be malfunctioning with my vision.

I tell myself it doesn't matter. Once I get back to the compound, the scientists will be able to fix whatever's wrong with me.

I need to devise a distraction first. Something to divert Lyzender and Jase's attention and give me a head start. Just in case that hover they transported me on is still lurking around the camp somewhere. It shouldn't make a difference, though. With my speed, by the time they're able to get to it and start the engine, I'll be a mirage on the rippling desert horizon.

But a head start never hurt anyone.

I eye the small rickety table beside me, next to a chair I'm assuming Jase was occupying before our exit. On the table sits a jug of water, a plate of what appears to be browned meat, and an ancient communication device that my sluggish brain is telling me is called a walkie-talkie.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenge.

I hold Kaelen's bright blue-green eyes in my mind. This is what he'd want me to do. I'm sure of it.

His voice is back in my head, counting in Russian the way he always does when we start a challenge course in the training dome.

The training dome.

The compound.

Home.

I'll be home soon.

Odin, dva, tri!

I kick out one foot, knocking the table over with a splash and a
clatter
. As expected, Lyzender and Jase both startle and look to my left. I duck right, around the back of the tent, and take off.

Into the desert.

Into the unknown.

Toward redemption.

 

36

LEADER

I only make it a few steps before my lungs start to burn. I cough up hot, angry air. My legs tremble beneath me and I can tell from the passing scenery that I'm not moving very fast. I will my body to speed up. To run like only Kaelen and I can.

But it refuses to cooperate.

I'm still shivering but now I'm sweating as well. Sweating from the effort. From the heat. From the frustration.

What is happening to me?

I stop to catch my breath—something I've only ever seen people do on the Feed shows. My chest feels as though it's on fire. Fighting for oxygen. I rest my hands on my knees, panting wildly. I turn and look back to see if anyone is following me. I think I see silhouettes in the distance but my vision only blurs again. Everything melts together until I'm squinting at nothing but a smudged canvas of colors.

Keep going!
I hear Kaelen's voice in my head.
Keep running!

He's right. I don't know what's happening to my body, but I can't stop.

I turn my back to the camp and will my legs to move again. They reluctantly oblige. My lungs scream with every step. My thundering heart protests in my chest.

My feet slow, dragging heavily beneath me, until I'm barely shuffling through the desert dirt.

And then I collapse.

Hitting the ground hard.

Feeling the collision everywhere.

When I wake up, I'm dizzy and my head is throbbing. I'm back inside a tent. A different one. It's much larger and with better appointments. From the bed I'm lying on, I can see a large table in the center, littered with various maps and documents printed on real paper.

If I didn't know any better, I would think I had transessed two hundred years into the past. But my transession gene is gone. Dr. A made sure of that.

My whole body aches when I attempt to sit up, and I quickly find that my hands are bound to the bed frame with a pair of heavy handcuffs that feel like they're made from real metal, not the lightweight synthetics.

I blink the room into focus and see Lyzender standing by the entrance. He ducks his head out the flap and calls, “She's awake.”

A moment later a woman strolls in. She's tall and slender with skin slightly darker than mine and thick, black hair that's been braided down her back. She's dressed in a simple pair of green pants and a soiled gray T-shirt. The sleeves have been torn off, exposing muscular arms and bronzed shoulders. Her skin is covered in markings. Not nanotats, but old-fashioned ink tattoos. The kind that are etched into your skin forever.

Even without spotting the small red crescent moon on the inside of her right palm, I recognize this woman from the Feed footage I watched in my hotel room.

Jenza Paddok.

The woman Director Raze promised me wasn't a threat.

I wonder what he'd say if he knew she'd successfully kidnapped me from right under his nose.

She's less polished than the woman I saw on my wall screen. A layer of grime and sweat almost baked into her skin. I can't help thinking that she would be pretty if it weren't for the animosity weighing down her features.

“Hello, Seraphina.” I place her voice right away. She was with me in the hovercopter when they injected my veins with liquid fire.

“It's just Sera,” I mumble.

She shares a quick glance with Lyzender before grabbing a chair from the table and straddling it. “As you wish, Sera.”

“I don't think any of this is what I wish,” I snarl.

Paddok turns to Lyzender. “Will you give us a moment alone?”

Lyzender stiffens, his eyes darting between us.

“I'll be quick,” she assures him.

Reluctantly, he exits the tent, but I'm certain he hasn't gone far. My body heaves with a barrage of nasty coughs. It reminds me of the horrific sound Lyzender made when the transession gene was slowly killing him.

“Yeah, about that.” Paddok offers me a cloth handkerchief but I refuse it and wipe the spittle from my mouth with my shoulder. “We had to take precautions to avoid”—she pauses and smiles—“well, what just happened.”

Precautions?

“What did you do to me?”

“Don't worry. It's only temporary. A little concoction devised by a member of my team to dull your enhancements. An inhibitor of sorts. Essentially, it's keeping you sick and blocking your body's natural ability to heal itself.” She lets out a soft laugh. “Welcome to the real world. It's flux, isn't it?”

“You turned me into a Normate?” I say it with such disgust I surprise even myself.

Paddok barks out an empty laugh. “Is that what Alixter calls us? It certainly has a nice ring to it.”

There it is. Just for a flicker of a moment, I see behind her façade. I see her loathing for the man who created me.

“Anyway, you should be grateful that's
all
we did to you. Jase wanted to kill you and Feedcast it live.”

I fight back a shudder. If Kaelen had to watch me die on a wall screen, he'd lose himself.

“He can be a bit dramatic,” Paddok adds. “I, on the other hand, feel that you could be much more useful in other ways. Namely, getting us onto the Diotech compound.”

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