The Rising
Page 36
“He has me.” I didn’t mean to say it. I could hear Ash’s voice in my ear, scoffing, Yeah, thanks. That and five bucks will buy me lunch. But as I said it, I meant it. When I got out of here, I’d find him. I’d be whatever he needed me to be, and it had nothing to do with hearing the story of his life.
When I said that, Antone pulled back. I thought he was offended—I’d just met my brother and I was presuming so much. But his eyes glimmered.
“I’m glad to hear that, Maya. I don’t think I can tell you how much it means to me, seeing the two of you together, looking out for each other.” A deep breath. “But he has me, too. I can give him everything he needs. Everything you and I had growing up.” He met my gaze. “Don’t you think that’s what he’d want?”
“If he does, then he knows where to find it. He knows you’re here.”
“He won’t come to me.”
“Then you’ll need to find him and ask him what he wants. Because I won’t help you.”
TWENTY-FOUR
ANTONE HAD TO LEAVE it at that, as I was soon taken away for yet another medical appointment. A psych exam. Apparently Nast was a little concerned about my mental health.
I didn’t cooperate nearly as well with that one. I mean, seriously? I’d just discovered I was a skin-walker and part of a secret science experiment, then I had been chased, nearly killed in a helicopter crash, nearly drowned by a friend, chased some more, discovered my town empty, realized my parents thought I was dead, got chased some more . . . The way I saw it, I was lucky I was still psychologically functioning at all. Of course, if I pointed that out, they’d take full credit for having “made” me strong enough to withstand this.
So I was not the most cooperative subject. Unfortunately, I couldn’t outright refuse, because that would only give them further proof of my “damaged” psychological state. So I answered the questions with the minimum required response until the psychologist got frustrated and gave up. I hoped to return to my room then. No such luck. When the shrink left, the boss came in, accompanied by Dr. Inglis.
Now it was time for “the talk.” I could have skipped it. I knew what Nast would say. The same message I’d heard at every encounter with the Cabals. Resistance is futile.
Yes, he admitted, things had gone wrong. Mina Lee shouldn’t have come poking around, arousing our suspicions. The whole forest fire and helicopter kidnapping scheme? A bureaucratic mix-up. Yes, Nast actually blamed it on confusion at the corporate level, as if some misdirected memo had killed Mayor Tillson.
“I know you’re still children—” Nast began.
Dr. Inglis cleared her throat and he amended that to “young adults.” I’m not sure which was more condescending—calling us kids or thinking we’d respond better if they humored our delusions of maturity.
“At your age, you don’t have to think about your future,” Nast continued.
“Sure, we do,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about my future a lot. Everything I’m missing. Like my hot date with Rafe for Friday or the big beer bash we had planned for Saturday night.”
His lips tightened.
“We have plans,” I said. “I want to be a veterinarian. Daniel wants to be a lawyer. Serena wanted to swim on the Olympic team and study sports psychology. You’ve heard of Serena, right? My best friend? Murdered by one of your subjects gone psycho.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Nast said.
“She admitted it.”
Dr. Inglis inched forward. “We do agree that Nicole appears to be responsible for Serena’s death, Maya. We just don’t know if the experiment had anything to do with that. Mental illness can have many causes.”
“Whatever. We do have dreams. All of us. And none include being prisoners—or Cabal slaves—for the rest of our lives.”
“Cabal slaves?” Nast laughed. “Do my employees look that miserable? Yes, we expect a return on our investment. We expect you to work for us, in the same way that the army expects military service after paying for a college degree.”
“But people join the army knowing that. It’s a willing exchange of services.”
He waved off the distinction. “Think of it as being a very privileged young woman, which you are. You will get the best care and the best education, and when you graduate, you will have a guaranteed job waiting. A job that will pay you a six figure starting salary, in addition to covering all living expenses. How many young people dream of such an opportunity?”
“They dream of that as an option. A choice.”
Another wave as if to say, Such a petty distinction, really. “You’ll have choices, Maya. You all will. Daniel can certainly become a lawyer. The Cabal can always use more. He’d attend the Ivy League school of his choosing.” A smug smile. “We can guarantee it whatever his grades. As for you, while we don’t have much call for veterinarians, I happen to know you weren’t as set on that career as you’re pretending now. I’m sure we could find something that matched your interests.”
“You didn’t resurrect extinct species to become lawyers,” I said. “You’ll want more from us.”
“We’ll have other tasks, yes. But there’s no need to worry about that now. The point is that you will be taken care of. Very well taken care of.”
“In a gilded cage,” I said, waving at the house.
Dr. Inglis stepped forward. “No, Maya. This is just temporary. Do you remember what I said about finding you another Salmon Creek? We have. That’s where you’ll live until you go away to college. After that, you’d be free to live on your own, as any other young person would.”
Nast leaned forward. “Except you won’t be living in a dingy one-room apartment in a questionable part of town. You would get a condo your average college grad can’t afford unless she comes from a very wealthy family.” He smiled. “Which, in a way, you do.”
“What if I just want to come from the family I have now? My parents?”
Silence.
I turned to Dr. Inglis. “You said you’re setting up Salmon Creek Two. I assume it’ll be just like the first, right?”
“As close as we can get.”
“So my parents will be there?”
When I said that, Antone pulled back. I thought he was offended—I’d just met my brother and I was presuming so much. But his eyes glimmered.
“I’m glad to hear that, Maya. I don’t think I can tell you how much it means to me, seeing the two of you together, looking out for each other.” A deep breath. “But he has me, too. I can give him everything he needs. Everything you and I had growing up.” He met my gaze. “Don’t you think that’s what he’d want?”
“If he does, then he knows where to find it. He knows you’re here.”
“He won’t come to me.”
“Then you’ll need to find him and ask him what he wants. Because I won’t help you.”
TWENTY-FOUR
ANTONE HAD TO LEAVE it at that, as I was soon taken away for yet another medical appointment. A psych exam. Apparently Nast was a little concerned about my mental health.
I didn’t cooperate nearly as well with that one. I mean, seriously? I’d just discovered I was a skin-walker and part of a secret science experiment, then I had been chased, nearly killed in a helicopter crash, nearly drowned by a friend, chased some more, discovered my town empty, realized my parents thought I was dead, got chased some more . . . The way I saw it, I was lucky I was still psychologically functioning at all. Of course, if I pointed that out, they’d take full credit for having “made” me strong enough to withstand this.
So I was not the most cooperative subject. Unfortunately, I couldn’t outright refuse, because that would only give them further proof of my “damaged” psychological state. So I answered the questions with the minimum required response until the psychologist got frustrated and gave up. I hoped to return to my room then. No such luck. When the shrink left, the boss came in, accompanied by Dr. Inglis.
Now it was time for “the talk.” I could have skipped it. I knew what Nast would say. The same message I’d heard at every encounter with the Cabals. Resistance is futile.
Yes, he admitted, things had gone wrong. Mina Lee shouldn’t have come poking around, arousing our suspicions. The whole forest fire and helicopter kidnapping scheme? A bureaucratic mix-up. Yes, Nast actually blamed it on confusion at the corporate level, as if some misdirected memo had killed Mayor Tillson.
“I know you’re still children—” Nast began.
Dr. Inglis cleared her throat and he amended that to “young adults.” I’m not sure which was more condescending—calling us kids or thinking we’d respond better if they humored our delusions of maturity.
“At your age, you don’t have to think about your future,” Nast continued.
“Sure, we do,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about my future a lot. Everything I’m missing. Like my hot date with Rafe for Friday or the big beer bash we had planned for Saturday night.”
His lips tightened.
“We have plans,” I said. “I want to be a veterinarian. Daniel wants to be a lawyer. Serena wanted to swim on the Olympic team and study sports psychology. You’ve heard of Serena, right? My best friend? Murdered by one of your subjects gone psycho.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Nast said.
“She admitted it.”
Dr. Inglis inched forward. “We do agree that Nicole appears to be responsible for Serena’s death, Maya. We just don’t know if the experiment had anything to do with that. Mental illness can have many causes.”
“Whatever. We do have dreams. All of us. And none include being prisoners—or Cabal slaves—for the rest of our lives.”
“Cabal slaves?” Nast laughed. “Do my employees look that miserable? Yes, we expect a return on our investment. We expect you to work for us, in the same way that the army expects military service after paying for a college degree.”
“But people join the army knowing that. It’s a willing exchange of services.”
He waved off the distinction. “Think of it as being a very privileged young woman, which you are. You will get the best care and the best education, and when you graduate, you will have a guaranteed job waiting. A job that will pay you a six figure starting salary, in addition to covering all living expenses. How many young people dream of such an opportunity?”
“They dream of that as an option. A choice.”
Another wave as if to say, Such a petty distinction, really. “You’ll have choices, Maya. You all will. Daniel can certainly become a lawyer. The Cabal can always use more. He’d attend the Ivy League school of his choosing.” A smug smile. “We can guarantee it whatever his grades. As for you, while we don’t have much call for veterinarians, I happen to know you weren’t as set on that career as you’re pretending now. I’m sure we could find something that matched your interests.”
“You didn’t resurrect extinct species to become lawyers,” I said. “You’ll want more from us.”
“We’ll have other tasks, yes. But there’s no need to worry about that now. The point is that you will be taken care of. Very well taken care of.”
“In a gilded cage,” I said, waving at the house.
Dr. Inglis stepped forward. “No, Maya. This is just temporary. Do you remember what I said about finding you another Salmon Creek? We have. That’s where you’ll live until you go away to college. After that, you’d be free to live on your own, as any other young person would.”
Nast leaned forward. “Except you won’t be living in a dingy one-room apartment in a questionable part of town. You would get a condo your average college grad can’t afford unless she comes from a very wealthy family.” He smiled. “Which, in a way, you do.”
“What if I just want to come from the family I have now? My parents?”
Silence.
I turned to Dr. Inglis. “You said you’re setting up Salmon Creek Two. I assume it’ll be just like the first, right?”
“As close as we can get.”
“So my parents will be there?”
