Children of Eden
Page 54
In as steady a voice as I can manage I tell her about the roadblock, Mom’s murder.
“She said someone was onto you,” the cybersurgeon muses. “Bikk!” she swears again, stalking away from us. We drift in her wake. “I should have destroyed the lenses the second there was even a hint of trouble.”
“You didn’t though, did you?” Lachlan asks, and Flame looks at him sharply.
“What does it matter to you? Never mind.” She turns to me. “Are you ready? The procedure will take about an hour, but we’ll have to monitor you for a while afterward. Then follow-up visits for twelve weeks. It will be six months at least before the lenses fully bond to your neurons, and you’ll need a final check after that. Until then if they’re removed or damaged you’ll have to start from scratch. After that, they’ll be a permanent part of your body. But don’t do anything to screw this up, because this is the only pair I’ve successfully made, and frankly after I implant them I’m out of this business. I don’t need the trouble. The money, yes, but not the risk of death.”
I try to get a word in edgewise through the whole monologue, but I don’t have a hope until she runs out of steam. Then I finally blurt out, “I’m not taking the lenses. I want Lach—my friend to have them.” I realized just in time that I probably shouldn’t give his name.
She doesn’t even stop walking. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”
I trot to catch up. “But I don’t want them. And he needs them.”
She dramatically pantomimes blocking her ears. “I don’t want to hear it. I got paid enough to move Serpentine three rings in, and that’s the only social issue that matters to me. You go fight the Center or turn yourself into a turtle or feed the hungry or uplift the poor—it’s all the same to me. Just don’t tell me.”
“You don’t need to know why,” I try again. “Just give them to him, not me.”
“Kid, don’t you understand? These are your lenses. Yours, no one else’s.”
“I know my mom paid, but . . .”
“This isn’t about money.” She gives a mirthless chuckle. “First and last time those words will ever pass my lips. Do you realize that no one outside the Center has even successfully made lenses that will bond to the individual? That will feed into the EcoPan like these do? This is my masterpiece! Me, with all my training and degrees, who spends her life implanting horns and scales onto Bestials, finally came up with something brilliant. These are not just any lenses. Your mom gave me scans of your eyes, your brain, a personality assessment, basal temperature readings, metabolic data . . . These are custom-made for you. They won’t work in anyone else.”
I’m stunned. I don’t know what to think. At one point I was desperate for a normal life, but when that became impossible I decided I absolutely didn’t want the lenses. I want to stay me. My eyes, my identity, even if I have to hide it all my life. Even if I have to die for it.
I’m about to say Forget it, destroy them, we’re leaving . . . when Lachlan grips my shoulder. I don’t think he means to, but he’s clutching me so hard it hurts.
“You have to get the lenses,” he says between clenched teeth. “You have to take my place.”
I start to shake my head. “No . . .” I begin. But he pulls me out of the room, muttering “Excuse us” while the cybersurgeon shrugs and makes a gesture of aggravated dismissal.
“This is our only chance,” he hisses at me the second we’re alone. He’s pulled me so close. I suddenly feel uncomfortably warm. “There’s a very narrow window. And the way I’ve set it up, a very narrow age range. Someone our age has to infiltrate the school, the inner circle families, or this entire operation is shot to hell.”
“I . . . I’m not like you. I hardly even know what’s going on!”
“You’re more like me than you realize. I know you have a sense of justice. I know you want fair treatment for second children, and all children of Eden.”
“But I can’t! You’re . . .”
“I’m what? What can I do that you can’t do, or learn? I’m nothing special. A kid who was kicked around, kept down, until he decided to fight. You’re a fighter, Rowan.” He rubs his cheek where I punched him. But that was different.
I shake my head. “I’m just . . . me.”
“Never think that ‘just you’ isn’t enough. Rowan, listen to me! Everything is riding on this. I’ve prepared for this, trained for this, thought about nothing else for the past year.”
“But I haven’t! I don’t even know what to do. I don’t want—”
I was going to say I don’t want to, but he cuts me off, and probably thinks I’m going to say something noble, like I don’t want to let you down. But that’s not it. I was just getting used to the idea of peace, underground. Of companions, safety. A new family.
“I’ll help you. I’ll be with you all the way—or as close as I can get. I’ll be your handler.” As if to illustrate, he links his fingers through mine. I feel a strange mix of elation and trepidation. My handler? As if I’m a puppet, with him pulling the strings.
“It will be easy. All you have to do at first is go to school, make friends, act normal.”
A laugh bursts out of me, uncontrollable. “That’s easy? Until a few days ago, I knew three people, of which only two liked me. Make friends? Act normal? If you put me in, your mission will fail in the first five minutes!”
He smiles gently and squeezes my fingers in his. “You’re more charming than you imagine,” he says softly. “I believe in you, Rowan. Believe in yourself and you can do it. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you could. The mission is too important to trust to someone incompetent.” He strokes one of my knuckles with his thumb. “And your life is too important to risk if I didn’t think you’d succeed.”
“Why?” I ask. I’m not fishing for compliments, not asking out of vanity. I really want to know why he values my life so much.
He flushes, actually turns pink. His eyes drop to my fingers, our fingers.
“I’ll just pick one reason,” he says, lifting his gaze to mine again, but not releasing my hands. The small room feels warmer than ever. “The way you fight for people you care about. For Lark when she was in danger. For your brother. You forget yourself, and think only of the person you love. That makes you extraordinary.” He sighs, and there’s a tremor in that sigh so deeply sad. “I only wish once in my life someone had fought for me like that.”
“She said someone was onto you,” the cybersurgeon muses. “Bikk!” she swears again, stalking away from us. We drift in her wake. “I should have destroyed the lenses the second there was even a hint of trouble.”
“You didn’t though, did you?” Lachlan asks, and Flame looks at him sharply.
“What does it matter to you? Never mind.” She turns to me. “Are you ready? The procedure will take about an hour, but we’ll have to monitor you for a while afterward. Then follow-up visits for twelve weeks. It will be six months at least before the lenses fully bond to your neurons, and you’ll need a final check after that. Until then if they’re removed or damaged you’ll have to start from scratch. After that, they’ll be a permanent part of your body. But don’t do anything to screw this up, because this is the only pair I’ve successfully made, and frankly after I implant them I’m out of this business. I don’t need the trouble. The money, yes, but not the risk of death.”
I try to get a word in edgewise through the whole monologue, but I don’t have a hope until she runs out of steam. Then I finally blurt out, “I’m not taking the lenses. I want Lach—my friend to have them.” I realized just in time that I probably shouldn’t give his name.
She doesn’t even stop walking. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”
I trot to catch up. “But I don’t want them. And he needs them.”
She dramatically pantomimes blocking her ears. “I don’t want to hear it. I got paid enough to move Serpentine three rings in, and that’s the only social issue that matters to me. You go fight the Center or turn yourself into a turtle or feed the hungry or uplift the poor—it’s all the same to me. Just don’t tell me.”
“You don’t need to know why,” I try again. “Just give them to him, not me.”
“Kid, don’t you understand? These are your lenses. Yours, no one else’s.”
“I know my mom paid, but . . .”
“This isn’t about money.” She gives a mirthless chuckle. “First and last time those words will ever pass my lips. Do you realize that no one outside the Center has even successfully made lenses that will bond to the individual? That will feed into the EcoPan like these do? This is my masterpiece! Me, with all my training and degrees, who spends her life implanting horns and scales onto Bestials, finally came up with something brilliant. These are not just any lenses. Your mom gave me scans of your eyes, your brain, a personality assessment, basal temperature readings, metabolic data . . . These are custom-made for you. They won’t work in anyone else.”
I’m stunned. I don’t know what to think. At one point I was desperate for a normal life, but when that became impossible I decided I absolutely didn’t want the lenses. I want to stay me. My eyes, my identity, even if I have to hide it all my life. Even if I have to die for it.
I’m about to say Forget it, destroy them, we’re leaving . . . when Lachlan grips my shoulder. I don’t think he means to, but he’s clutching me so hard it hurts.
“You have to get the lenses,” he says between clenched teeth. “You have to take my place.”
I start to shake my head. “No . . .” I begin. But he pulls me out of the room, muttering “Excuse us” while the cybersurgeon shrugs and makes a gesture of aggravated dismissal.
“This is our only chance,” he hisses at me the second we’re alone. He’s pulled me so close. I suddenly feel uncomfortably warm. “There’s a very narrow window. And the way I’ve set it up, a very narrow age range. Someone our age has to infiltrate the school, the inner circle families, or this entire operation is shot to hell.”
“I . . . I’m not like you. I hardly even know what’s going on!”
“You’re more like me than you realize. I know you have a sense of justice. I know you want fair treatment for second children, and all children of Eden.”
“But I can’t! You’re . . .”
“I’m what? What can I do that you can’t do, or learn? I’m nothing special. A kid who was kicked around, kept down, until he decided to fight. You’re a fighter, Rowan.” He rubs his cheek where I punched him. But that was different.
I shake my head. “I’m just . . . me.”
“Never think that ‘just you’ isn’t enough. Rowan, listen to me! Everything is riding on this. I’ve prepared for this, trained for this, thought about nothing else for the past year.”
“But I haven’t! I don’t even know what to do. I don’t want—”
I was going to say I don’t want to, but he cuts me off, and probably thinks I’m going to say something noble, like I don’t want to let you down. But that’s not it. I was just getting used to the idea of peace, underground. Of companions, safety. A new family.
“I’ll help you. I’ll be with you all the way—or as close as I can get. I’ll be your handler.” As if to illustrate, he links his fingers through mine. I feel a strange mix of elation and trepidation. My handler? As if I’m a puppet, with him pulling the strings.
“It will be easy. All you have to do at first is go to school, make friends, act normal.”
A laugh bursts out of me, uncontrollable. “That’s easy? Until a few days ago, I knew three people, of which only two liked me. Make friends? Act normal? If you put me in, your mission will fail in the first five minutes!”
He smiles gently and squeezes my fingers in his. “You’re more charming than you imagine,” he says softly. “I believe in you, Rowan. Believe in yourself and you can do it. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you could. The mission is too important to trust to someone incompetent.” He strokes one of my knuckles with his thumb. “And your life is too important to risk if I didn’t think you’d succeed.”
“Why?” I ask. I’m not fishing for compliments, not asking out of vanity. I really want to know why he values my life so much.
He flushes, actually turns pink. His eyes drop to my fingers, our fingers.
“I’ll just pick one reason,” he says, lifting his gaze to mine again, but not releasing my hands. The small room feels warmer than ever. “The way you fight for people you care about. For Lark when she was in danger. For your brother. You forget yourself, and think only of the person you love. That makes you extraordinary.” He sighs, and there’s a tremor in that sigh so deeply sad. “I only wish once in my life someone had fought for me like that.”
