Emerge

by Heather Sunseri

  She nodded. “Just hoping he’s made progress.”

  We both looked toward the clock on the other side of the lab. Though I now knew what the countdown was really for, I also knew that it was a conservative estimate of the time left before the virus took my sister’s life.

  Less than two days.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I said. “I promised I would meet with Justin and Mother this morning.”

  Cricket nodded, then entered the labs, where she joined a growing number of doctors and medical staff. Dr. Pooley, my sister’s doctor, stood beside Dr. Hempel. Was it a good sign that Dr. Hempel seemed to be bringing in reinforcements?

  My PulsePoint pinged at my side—a message from Mother: “West, get back to the suite immediately.”

  Cricket was watching over the doctors’ shoulders as they talked. I wanted to stay; I hated to leave her here without me. But Mother was a force not to be ignored.

  I left the medical center and headed back toward home, taking the long way. I’d always enjoyed detouring through New Caelum’s indoor gardens, where our vegetables and fruit were manufactured with incredible greenhouse and chemical technologies.

  As I walked through the greens section—spinach, lettuce of all kinds, kale, mustard greens—on the lower level, I heard my name. I turned to find Mrs. Canary running toward me. She was dressed in bright yellows and greens, the colors of the earth and the sun, in keeping with her job in Agriculture and Food Production. She was one of the city’s highest-ranking workers in that sector, in charge of monitoring all activity within our gardens, and until recently, she had represented the Agriculture sector on the council.

  She was also Ryder’s mother.

  My heart fell to my stomach at the sight of her excitedly waving me down. “West, I’m glad I ran into you. I’m so sorry to hear your sister hasn’t felt well. They’re saying it was just the flu though, right?” The question was harmless, but she seemed to watch me closely. When I nodded, she smiled, but her hand on my forearm trembled. She was nervous about something. “What a relief. I’m praying for her quick recovery.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Hearing my PulsePoint ping again, I started to turn, knowing it was Mother wondering where I was.

  “West, before you go… Have you heard anything from Ryder? I haven’t seen him in over a week. And since I’m no longer on the council…” Her face fell. I had never heard the full story of why Mrs. Canary had been removed from the council.

  How was I supposed to tell this kind woman that her son was dying? That he, my sister, and Ryder’s girlfriend all had Bad Sam, the deadly virus that had killed millions? And of course there was no way I could tell someone outside the leadership branch that New Caelum had sent representatives to scout the outside. Ryder wasn’t even supposed to have been one of those scouts; it was Mother who had seen to it that he be added, after she’d learned of the mission.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Canary. I haven’t seen him in a few days. You know Ryder, though—he’s probably wrapped up in some high-security project. I’ll find out for you.”

  “Thank you, dear.” She squeezed my arm.

  I eyed this woman who had been like a second mother to me, and curiosity got the best of me. “Mrs. Canary, why are you no longer on the council?”

  Mrs. Canary turned rigid. She glanced right and left, looking to see if anyone was within earshot. “I can’t talk council business with you, West. You know that.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” I said. Yet keeping my voice low, I continued, “Did you know that the council wanted to send scouts out into the settlements outside our city?”

  She narrowed her gaze, letting her lips press into a thin line.

  “I know,” I said. “You can’t talk about it. It’s just, the council is putting pressure on me to become more involved, and I would have liked to have had a friendly face on the council. Someone I trusted.”

  Mrs. Canary looked around again. Workers were tending nearby crops and watering the plants. No one seemed to pay us any attention. “I can’t tell you things that are talked about within the council, West. But since you are a member of the higher government, you should know that I’ve heard rumors recently.”

  I leaned in closer. “Mrs. Canary, I know you wouldn’t repeat idle gossip.”

  Her eyes told me she was confirming that what others were spreading as gossip was in fact the truth. “I’ve heard that the council is desperate to produce a vaccine for Bad Sam. Most believe that the council would never allow their citizens to reenter the city after they’ve ventured into the outside world without being absolutely sure that they would not be bringing the virus back inside.”

  I nodded while processing what she was telling me. “And the only way to be absolutely sure is to vaccinate their citizens before they leave. How desperate is the council?”

  She grabbed on to my arm. “I don’t know. Like I said, that’s only what I’ve heard on the outside. Hypothetically speaking though, I could never be a part of a council that would test possible vaccines on human subjects, then expose them to the virus to see if the vaccine worked.”

  I backed up a step and stared into the eyes of my best friend’s mother. There was no deception there; just sorrow and anger.

  I stared at her a few more seconds trying to reconcile what she was telling me.

  My PulsePoint pinged again, startling me. “It’s nice to see you.” I tried to smile. Nothing I could do or say was going to reassure either of us that any of this was okay. “I’ll let Ryder know to call you as soon as I see him.”

  “Okay, hon.” She patted my hand. “And tell your mother hello for me. And that I would love to have tea with her again soon. Maybe she and I can finally talk about the big news she said she had for me.” She gave me a warm smile, then turned and strolled away in the opposite direction.

  My PulsePoint pinged a third time, and I turned and made my way to the elevators, heading straight up to see Mother.

  When I entered the suite, she was alone, staring out the large window on the opposite side of the room.

  “Why did the council send scouts out into the settlements against your wishes?” I asked. “And I know you didn’t agree to that mission, like Justin wants me to believe.”

  “Don’t start with me, West.” She turned with one arm across her chest; the other held a glass of red wine. It wasn’t even noon. “How are you doing with Christina?”

  I wanted to talk to her about what I’d just learned from Mrs. Canary; but confronting her with that now was probably not the best way to go about things. Especially since I was fairly sure Justin was listening in on everything we said inside the suite. “I’m doing fine with Cricket, Mother. How are you doing with her?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do. You want her to join us here inside New Caelum, yet you know that you’re the very reason she has no desire to do so.”

  “It’s not my fault those parents of hers wouldn’t listen. They had some wild theory about how to stop Bad Sam from killing its victims, but it apparently required them to return to Africa, of all places, to get more of… I don’t know what. I honestly think they were insane by that point. We all nearly were. I wanted them to be here with us in New Caelum, West, I really did. But we simply couldn’t wait for them. We had to shut down all international transportation. They knew, West. They knew we were shutting the doors. It was their decision not to be here. Not mine.”

  “Maybe you should tell this to Cricket.”

  “To what end? If I had thought it would help her, I would have told her long ago. But the way I see it, she’s better off believing I’m at fault. This way she gets to hate me—instead of hating her own parents for deserting her.”

  Mother had a point. But she was also changing the subject.

  “Fine. I didn’t come here to talk about Cricket. I want to know why you’re marrying Justin. What changed while I was out looking for Christina? I came
back and you were a completely different person.”

  “Yes, I do apologize for that.” She took another sip of wine. “Dr. Pooley gave me a sedative. I didn’t react well to it.”

  “Okay, that explains why you were acting weird, but… Mother! Marrying Justin?”

  She glanced nervously behind me, toward the door, then turned again toward the windows. “Sometimes, West, we must fulfill obligations for the greater good.”

  “What about Willow?”

  “Willow is my motivation for everything I’m doing. With Christina’s antibodies, Dr. Hempel will figure out a treatment.”

  “I ran into Ryder’s mom. She said she’d like to have tea with you again soon.”

  Mother wordlessly walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself another glass of wine.

  “Are you even going to talk to her? She has no idea her son is dying.”

  “Ryder’s mother will heal. In time, we’ll make sure she knows that her son was a hero.”

  A knot formed in my stomach. I wasn’t even sure I understood what our conversation was about anymore. “And Key? I suppose since she had no family, no one will miss her?” Could she even hear herself?

  “Of course she’ll be missed. She was on her way to becoming a wonderful doctor. She wasn’t supposed to go with you. That must have been Ryder’s doing. How were Ryder and Key even exposed to the virus?”

  “You’re asking me? How was Willow exposed?” I practically screamed it.

  Mother swallowed a sip of wine and gave me a cold stare. “You will watch yourself, Westlin Layne. You are the hope for the next generation of New Caelum. You will be forced to make hard decisions in the future. A city of people will depend on you. That is why—“

  She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind me. Justin entered. “Did you tell him yet?”

  “I was just about to.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you.” Justin waved a hand and proceeded to pour himself a drink. What was with these two drinking before we’d even had lunch?

  “Westlin, I’ve decided to step down as president of New Caelum after Justin and I are married.”

  “What? Why?” I tried to put emotion behind my words, to pretend that the presidency mattered to me.

  Mother hooked her hand around Justin’s arm. “I’ve decided to be First Lady of New Caelum instead.”

  I couldn’t possibly keep my mouth from hanging open. “Are you telling me that you’re handing your presidency over to Justin? And the council has agreed to this?”

  “That’s right. And yes, they have,” Justin declared. “And you will be my vice president.”

  At that, I choked on my own spit. “Are you crazy?”

  “The people of New Caelum love you, West. And with Cricket by your side?”

  “This is too much.” I was beginning to understand their need for mind-altering substances from the liquor cabinet. I, however, vowed to do whatever I had to do to keep my wits about me. “I’m going to need time to consider this.”

  “Of course.” Mother waved her hand, but somehow, I was pretty sure that in allowing me “time,” she had in mind minutes—not the days, weeks, or even months I would need.

  Cricket was going to flip out. She might accelerate her little bomb of viruses when she heard everything I’d learned in the past thirty minutes.

  chapter thirty-one

  Cricket

  My hand trembled as I set a slide into the microscope for Dr. Hempel. “Have you slept?” My hand was shaking, and I was concerned about his lack of rest.

  The strange doctor wouldn’t look at me. “Three hours in the last forty-eight.”

  Through his mask, I could see that his eyes were watering. Beads of sweat pooled along his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, fine. Why?”

  “No reason.” I glanced around the lab. Half a dozen people in hazmat suits—pale blue, unlike the white worn by Dr. Hempel and Dr. Pooley—were at work on various tasks. “Are all of these people working on a cure for the virus?”

  “That, or at least a treatment. If we can help a person fight the secondary infections, keep vital organs from cannibalizing, we believe we can help some patients to survive. And that will provide us with even more antibodies to help us fight the disease more effectively in the future.”

  “What about the antibodies I brought with me?”

  Dr. Hempel removed the slide he was studying and replaced it with another. “Here. Look at this one.” He glanced nervously across the room in Dr. Pooley’s direction.

  I peered through the lens at what looked like a long, skinny piece of string smushed between two pieces of glass. “Those are the antibodies?” I’d seen those in the past with Caine.

  “Yes.” He changed out the slides again. “Now, look at this one.”

  When I viewed the next slide, the “string” appeared broken, and there was less of it.

  “Based on the dates written on the vials, the healthy antibody sample is from three years ago. The other is from last week. Whoever’s been providing these samples… well, it appears that their ability to form healthy antibodies is diminishing.”

  Even though Dr. Hempel was only confirming the message that Dax had already delivered from Caine, a queasy feeling erupted in my stomach. How long had I been walking around with reduced immunity? Had I been careful enough last week when I was around Key and Ryder?

  “But,” Dr. Hempel lifted a finger. “I have discovered a way to work around this.” He placed a third slide on the stage. “In this slide”—he gestured for me to look—“I have added a protein compound to the antibodies. It’s something I’ve been working on for the last couple of years.”

  “The antibodies have reformed,” I said. “But they look… different.”

  “They’re even stronger. This is the treatment I hope will work. And it might get us closer to a vaccine—it could be a way to trick our immune systems into producing manufactured antibodies.”

  “Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming next?”

  “Dr. Pooley and I still feel like we’re missing something. The person with these antibodies had some sort of medical help.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of help?”

  “Well, the protein compound we came up with complements a patient’s existing immune system, helping a patient fight the infections caused by the virus, but it’s still a manufactured chemical. Whereas the original survivor had some sort of substance in their blood that promoted the antibodies you see on this slide. As a result, that person was able to fight through the failure of vital organs that most Bad Sam patients eventually die from.” He gestured again to the first slide he had shown me. “Something else, something inside the original survivor’s blood, helped them fight the Samael Strain and produce the antibodies you see on that slide.”

  Something inside my blood…

  His explanation triggered something in my memory that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “But do you think you’ve found an answer? Do you think what you’ve come up with will help Willow?”

  He held up a hand. “First we try it on one of our patients in the next room.”

  “What? But we’re running out of time.” The clock across the room told us we had less than thirty-six hours. “By the time you figure out if this is working, Willow could be dead.” Or could soon be past the point of saving. “Those children didn’t come down with the virus until several days after Willow. Why would you treat them first?”

  Dr. Pooley, who had been doing his own thing and charting numbers across from us, turned our way. “I’ve been monitoring Willow and treating her symptoms. She’s hanging in there. We’ve got time to make sure this treatment works before taking any risks with Willow.”

  Bile rose to my throat as I realized what Dr. Pooley meant by that statement. “By ‘make sure it works,’ you mean test it first on the ‘less important’ patients?” The children were being used as lab rats! I slammed my gloved fist
on the counter. “Because they didn’t come from as much money and power as Willow, they’re disposable?”

  I realized a little too late that I had raised my voice. Two guards standing at the door pulled Tasers from their waistbands.

  “I’m sorry.” I held out my hands in defense. “I’ll calm down.” I took a deep cleansing breath and whispered to the doctors, “Those two children… How did they contract the virus?”

  Dr. Pooley stepped closer. “With all due respect, an outsider does not get to come into our lab and start asking questions about how we run things.”

  I reared back like I’d been slapped. I wanted to say to them, “With all due respect, those are my antibodies you’re using for your experiments,” but I stopped myself.

  Then it dawned on me why they were ignoring my question. Thoughts of the countless nights when the incinerators had run flashed in my mind. I was willing to bet that those children had been given the virus specifically so that they could become human lab rats. They hadn’t contracted the disease by accident; they were just two more guinea pigs, part of a long line of experiments designed to find a cure or vaccine for Bad Sam.

  I stared at the two doctors, knowing I couldn’t voice my suspicions. What would they do to me if I accused them of this?

  Bile rose in my throat, and I pressed a hand to my stomach. Dr. Pooley and Dr. Hempel traded glances with each other and shifted uncomfortably.

  My mind turned to Ryder, Key, and Dylan. They weren’t getting the same treatment as Willow. They couldn’t be, because Caine didn’t have the same high-tech medicines and machines available to him, nor did he have the manpower of caregivers. The clock sitting on the counter behind Dr. Hempel was more for them than it was for Willow. Unfortunately, these doctors were confident that they had longer than that clock indicated—which meant I would have to show my hand sooner rather than later.

  “So, how sure are you that this treatment will work?” I asked, trying to pretend that I hadn’t just realized how twisted the people of New Caelum truly were.