“Hmm, you’re sounding awfully testy this morning. You know, it really is quite amazing. You almost seem human.”
Before Evelyn could retort, they stepped through the great wooden doors from the lobby into the courtyard and immediately got caught up in the noise and clatter of dozens of trucks and hundreds of men as they made their way to the shuttles. The sun was up, having just crested the tips of the mountains along the eastern ridge, and though it was July, Evelyn felt a dry chill in the air.
Escorted by rangers on either side of her, and a new one who had appeared out of thin air behind her, Evelyn and the doctor walked to an open-air transport on the edge of the green. After they had climbed inside, still flanked by rangers, the driver started down the meadow between the rows of shuttles.
It was a terrifying sight to see so many shuttles in one place, and it was all Evelyn could do to keep from shaking. For the most part, the shuttles were identical to the one she had arrived in. Black. Sleek. Sitting on the ground like raptors the moment before springing to flight. It was obvious that the nanites weren’t the only things Coleson and company had confiscated from Carson Philips after he had left.
They passed row upon row of shuttles as they drove, and Evelyn realized that her earlier assessment of there being about twenty shuttles in the field was grossly understated. There were forty-eight, and as they came to the final row, the transport pulled up to the open ramp on one, which she now recognized as her own.
Evelyn didn’t know what to think. It was a small comfort to see something familiar, but disconcerting at the same time. As she climbed the ramp with two rangers and the doctor, she turned, hearing the rumble of another group of transports coming from behind.
The transports came in quickly, pulling up to the shuttle on the other side of the throughway, not more than fifty feet from where Evelyn stood. The vehicle at the head of the procession stopped, and as the driver opened the door, Evelyn watched the president step up the ramp of the other shuttle, with rangers on either side.
The next two vehicles contained rangers—a dozen in all—and they stepped up the ramp also, disappearing into the darkness of the shuttle.
The last vehicle pulled up, and after a moment, the doors swung open. Four rangers exited, and then Evelyn’s heart leapt as she saw Tate stand, blinking in the early morning sun like he had just stepped out of a cave. He was still wearing the same black T-shirt and jeans he had on when they had left San Antonio, and he looked out of sorts and disheveled. Evelyn noticed he also had a collar around his neck.
“Tate,” she yelled to him without thinking.
Tate turned his head, apparently confused at hearing his name and seemingly a bit delirious. No sooner had he paused than one of the rangers cracked him in the back with his rifle. Tate fell to the ground like he had been shot but without a sound that Evelyn could hear.
“Tate,” she screamed, only to feel the rangers grab her under her armpits, dragging her up the ramp into the shuttle. Evelyn felt the heat pounding in her chest, the collar tightening against her ever-expanding arteries. She felt an anger torching her that she had never known existed, watching her brother being struck down, helpless against the rangers.
“Let me go!” she screamed, her shrill voice echoing off the metal walls of the shuttle. She writhed but she couldn’t get lose, and then somehow, as the rangers pulled her into the cockpit, she jerked her arms loose and bolted for the door. She had no idea what she was doing, but she was desperate to get out.
No sooner had she pulled free than she felt a searing pain racing through her neck and shoulders, blinding her. Evelyn heard herself scream over the deafening crackle, and she collapsed, slamming her head into the door frame.
“That’s enough!” the doctor screamed.
Evelyn rolled onto her side, gripping her collar and looking up at the doctor, who was walking toward her holding a small black device in her hand.
“Pick her up!” she ordered the rangers, and not a second later, the men were slamming her into one of the captain’s seats, strapping her in with the restraints and lashing her wrists to the armrests.
Evelyn felt her head wobble a little on her shoulders, a throbbing ache at the top of her neck.
“Did I mention your collar is outfitted with a shocker?” the doctor asked, standing over Evelyn like a teacher scolding a student. “You want to act like a dog, I’ll treat you like a dog. So unless you want to feel another fifty thousand volts running through your body, you’ll behave. Are we clear?”
Evelyn nodded, finally feeling like she could see again, and then watched as Dr. Pretty tucked the device into her coat pocket.
“Good,” she said, straightening her coat and tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. She looked at the rangers.
“Prep for takeoff … and turn on the display.”
The rangers had already secured their rifles and were sitting in the pilots’ seats. They started touching the displays on the console in front of them, and a holographic screen materialized where one of the windows had been. As it came into focus, the stoic face of the president appeared. He was wearing a jacket with a military cut. It was trimmed with gold thread and had a cluster of ornamental medals over his breast. His purple tie seemed to sparkle on the holoscreen. Whatever the significance was of his uniform and his medals, Evelyn didn’t know, as it resembled nothing she had ever seen in any of the military records she had stored away. It seemed bizarre by its conspicuous lack of traditionally venerated decorations.
“Do you have everything under control there, Doctor?” the president asked, furrowing his brow, obviously wondering about the incident while boarding.
“Yes, of course, Mr. President,” Dr. Pretty replied, casting an irritated glance at Evelyn, no doubt for making her look bad. “Everything is fine over here. We have run our prelaunch sequence and are ready when you are.”
“You said I could see Tate,” Evelyn blurted, her anger still smoldering from seeing him beaten moments before.
Dr. Pretty whipped her head around, cheeks turning red and fire flashing in her eyes. She crossed the cockpit in two steps, and then with as much body as she could motion, she slapped Evelyn. The force of the blow sent Evelyn’s head jerking sideways, and immediately Evelyn felt her teeth start to ache and her cheek flush. Even her vision blurred for a second.
“Don’t you dare speak to your president with that tone,” the doctor spat through her teeth. As Evelyn tried to regain her bearings, she felt the doctor’s knuckles smash into her cheek. This time it felt like her eye socket might explode under the force, and Evelyn heard herself grunt under the impact.
“Doctor, please, we need her alive,” Evelyn heard the warbling voice of the president on the screen.
Evelyn blinked rapidly, trying to focus.
“Yes, of course, Mr. President,” the doctor replied.
“I don’t care what you do with her when you return.”
Evelyn finally started to see one person instead of several, which made the callous smirk on Dr. Pretty’s red face all the more unnerving. With her back to the president, she leaned in close to Evelyn’s face.
“You will pay for your insolence,” she said in a whisper meant just for Evelyn to hear. “You and your whole damn family will pay dearly.”
Evelyn couldn’t contain herself, and she spat in Dr. Pretty’s getting-uglier-by-the-second face. If saliva could spark an explosion, it would resemble the transformation of Dr. Pretty into the inferno of pure rage she had become. Evelyn didn’t see it, but she felt another smash to her face, and whether it was Dr. Pretty screaming or herself, Evelyn could no longer tell. She fought against the arm restraints and then heard the rangers heave the raging beast off her.
Evelyn didn’t look up. The side of her face throbbed. The taste of her own salty blood filled her mouth, and at the moment, she couldn’t tell if it was tears or blood running down her cheeks.
“Dr. Pritikov,” the president started, “if you are not up to the task, I can
arrange for someone else from your lab to accompany Evelyn.”
“No,” the doctor said, almost yelling, her voice quaking. She paused a moment, and Evelyn looked at her, trying to muster every bit of detestation she could manage in her glare. The rangers let go of the doctor’s arms, and she quickly straightened her white coat. Evelyn noticed it had spots of blood—no doubt her own—up one side, and she even had speckles of red on her cheek. Evelyn felt a warm and grim sense of satisfaction about defiling the doctor with her own blood.
“No,” the doctor said again, this time more controlled. “I assure you, Mr. President, I have everything under control. She won’t give us any problems.”
“Good,” the president said, and then turned to the pilots behind him. “Major, take us to Coleson Prime.”
Evelyn heard the roar and felt the rumble of the hull as the rangers fired the enormously powerful engines. No sooner had the shuttle broken free of the surface than it began to quiet, ascending in great sweeping circles. Evelyn looked at the display and noted forty shuttles in all had left with them, and her heart sank as she realized that if each shuttle had a full complement of rangers, there were two thousand men on their way to conquer the new world. The colonists in Philips Landing wouldn’t have a chance.
Evelyn knew the sight from the ground of forty shuttles rising together in circles would have been terrifying, as if a kettle of vultures were hovering, waiting to devour the remains on a battlefield. As ominous as it would have been to see the group leaving, she knew the colonists were going to be terrified to see them arriving.
As they came through the thin air at fifty thousand feet, normally a time when Evelyn couldn’t help but pause, awestruck at the wonder of seeing billions of stars unobstructed by atmosphere, all she could feel was the knot growing in the pit of her stomach. Everything she had helped the colonists do—not just in the six years on Vista, but even over the five years of preparations before, when she had been just artificial intelligence—was about to be completely undone.
The sense of helplessness she felt at having no control was enough to make her want to scream. Normally, she would be piloting the shuttle through her nanites, but with the collar around her neck, she felt nothing of the ship around her, like she had gone numb and was being dragged into the black depths of a bottomless ocean, her body being crushed by the weight.
“Standing by to activate the relativity drive,” one of the rangers said.
“On the president’s mark,” another confirmed over the intercom.
Evelyn realized she was holding her breath, panicking inside, still unable to think of anything she could do to stop what was happening.
“Engage in three, two, one … go.”
And as the last word was said, and the Leap Frog was engaged, Evelyn watched as the universe splintered into billions of shards, as if a wall of water had just crashed through a window, annihilating the reality around her. As the wave washed over her, there was the light, growing brighter and then blinding, and then the heat, growing hotter and then searing, and then the roar, screaming louder and then deafening. Evelyn felt like it was torching away her skin, the pain terrible and exhilarating at the same time, the horrible itch of humanity being scratched away by the rawness of eternity.
And as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Evelyn sucked in air as if she had just come to the surface after having been trapped a hundred feet underwater. She blinked. She shook her head, her eyes focused. Coleson Prime was before them.
JUDGE
“Please don’t do this,” Evelyn said, her voice raspy.
She heard the buckles in the seat next to her click, and then watched as Dr. Pretty stumbled, barely catching herself on the console to keep herself from falling over. Even the rangers were shaking their heads, trying to overcome the aftereffects of the flight.
“Please, Doctor, don’t do this,” Evelyn repeated.
The doctor stumbled toward her as if she were drunk, and swung her hand wildly. Evelyn had the sense to pull her head back but was stopped by the back of the captain’s chair. The doctor grazed her cheek with her fingernails, sending a new searing pain through her face.
“Shut your mouth,” she said, regaining more of her faculties and again straightening her jacket.
“Get me the president,” she barked at the rangers. A second later, the screen materialized with a rather greenish and somewhat sickly looking president in the center. Evelyn knew the space travel affected people differently, and apparently, it hadn’t been kind to the president.
“Doctor,” he said coolly, apparently at a loss for words.
“Mr. President,” she replied, “I believe the effects of the space travel will wear off in a moment.”
“Yes,” he said, scowling. “In the meantime, Major, give me a status report.”
“Yes, sir. All forty shuttles and the troops are accounted for. The space station Vista is in orbit around Coleson Prime. Without the security codes, it will take our scanners ninety minutes to determine where the colonists are on the space station and on the surface.”
The president’s sickly color receded, and the awful spark in his eye returned.
“Okay, Evelyn, your moment has arrived,” he said, looking at her with a steely gaze. “Doctor, please release her.”
The doctor undid the fasteners holding Evelyn’s wrists to the chair and then flipped the buckle on her belt. “Get up,” she ordered, grabbing Evelyn by the arm and yanking her out of the chair.
“Now, Evelyn,” the president continued. “Please enter the security codes. I don’t trust you to do this by connecting through your nanobots, so the collar stays on. You will have to do this manually.”
Evelyn said nothing for a moment and then stared at the president.
“I will not,” she said, gritting her teeth and feeling her shoulders tighten, waiting for another blow from the doctor.
“I thought you might say that,” the president said. Just then, he stepped aside and Evelyn gasped. Behind him, strapped into a chair, and hardly recognizable for the all the blood and swelling on his face, was Tate. He had obviously been beaten badly by the rangers after she had seen him boarding the shuttle, and he didn’t seem coherent.
“You bastard,” she yelled, lunging at the hologram as if it might transport her through to the other ship. No sooner had she moved than she felt the sharp crack of something heavy on the back of her head. The next moment, she was trying to get to her knees on the floor. She rolled onto her side and looked up at the smirk of Dr. Pretty.
“I must say, Evelyn, it’s more fun beating you with the butt end of a rifle than shocking you with a collar.”
Evelyn’s mind whirled.
“Get her up,” the doctor ordered, and just as before, Evelyn quickly found herself hanging by her armpits between the two rangers. She glanced at her hands, which were covered in her own blood. It was dripping on the floor and running down her arms from the beating she was taking. Her face throbbed and she found it difficult to see, but whether that was from swelling or something worse, she wasn’t sure.
“Now, Evelyn, I trust you are still coherent enough to understand,” the president began, still with an unnerving evenness to his tone. Quickly he nodded at one of the rangers, and the man drew his pistol, cocked it, and held it to Tate’s head. “Enter the codes or Tate Philips will die.”
Evelyn looked at her brother and felt the despair and fear of losing him overwhelm her. He was it, her last remaining family member. Her eyes welled with tears, and for a moment, she wished she had never been created. She hated the man holding her brother hostage more than she could have ever imagined was possible, and the anger burned inside her, consuming her, clouding her thoughts. She couldn’t reason. Her perfectly programmed mind was drowning in emotion once more, and she didn’t see any way out. Just when she felt she couldn’t take any more, she looked into Tate’s eyes and saw him smile.
As if a breeze had blown away the smoky haze of a fire, she saw the man sh
e knew so well—the healer, the priest, the brother—and everything became clear. She found peace, and she knew somehow she would see him again, but even so, the sight of him in such pain tormented her.
“Please,” Evelyn said, “don’t hurt him.”
The words had hardly left her mouth when the ranger pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening even through the holoscreen, and Evelyn watched with revulsion as her brother slumped lifelessly to the floor.
“No!” Evelyn screamed through a sobbing cry, and then felt herself slump on the arms of the rangers. They released her, and she fell to her knees, a crippling sorrow breaking her.
“Now, Evelyn, I hope we understand one another,” the president said. “Enter the codes, or you can watch us execute every single colonist on this planet.”
Evelyn shook for a moment on the floor and then felt the nauseating pain of a boot in her gut. She gasped for air and felt the urge to vomit, but nothing came.
“Get up,” Dr. Pretty growled, and Evelyn felt the sharp yank of her hair being pulled. She screamed and struggled to grab the doctor’s arm as Dr. Pretty dragged her across the floor, pulling hair from her scalp as she went. Another punch in her gut, and more blood in her mouth and eyes, and Evelyn wondered how long she could endure. She was desperate. She saw no way to stop this madman and his sociopathic doctor. The doctor pulled her up to the console by her hair, tears running down Evelyn’s face, sheer rage and panic and terror filling every ounce of her body.
Please, God, help me … Show me a way out.
“You will enter those codes right now, or so help me … I’ll heal you just so I can beat you close to death over, and over, and over.”
“No,” Evelyn said, the words barely finding their way through the mass of blood and spit and swollen tissue in her mouth.
Another blow to her face, and Evelyn was on her back on the console.
Doppelganger Girl Page 26