A new life.
She kissed the forehead of her son’s new body. The skin burned her lips. That was when the alarms sounded. Warnings flashed on several monitors. She should have shut the process down, but this was it, the last moments of a long battle. She couldn’t start over. It has to be now!
The meltdown started in the storage room.
There were no fires, no smoke when all of the experimental synthetic cells reached a flash point. Instantaneously, they ignited. Including the ones she had experimented on herself. The world turned red. One moment, she was in a lab. The next moment, in a deep hole.
Steam was rising off her arms. Something was burning. She moved slowly at first. Her synthetic flesh was wet, her breath foul and hot. There was light up above. But she had disappeared in the hole.
The miser crawled out.
THE CHRISTMAS TREE was fully dressed.
Lights flashed on its verdant branches. Ornaments glittered. Presents were stacked knee high. The smell of Gail’s cookies was in the kitchen, where a song played.
The miser picked herself up off the floor. The cloak was heavy and suffocating. She let it fall from her shoulders and pile around her feet. The room radiated. Orange light pulsed from her bare skin, illuminating the distant sleigh in the overgrown grass, where empty reins hung loosely.
The front seat was empty.
She was alone. She had been all this time. Someone had tricked her into coming here. Tricked her into remembering. All those memories she had locked away were now unpacked. They filled her with all the weight of the world.
Her skin crackled.
Blue flames danced on her arms. The floor smoldered beneath her bare feet. The front door was open. Outside, the wind rushed over moonlit swards of dormant grass. She put out her hand.
The illusion of space stopped in the doorway.
Her fingers touched something solid. There were no mountains out there, no sleigh in the open field. There was no house around her.
The space she was touching was slightly curved.
KANDI
37
“Kandi?”
It was a strange question. Her dad was stiff and his head jerked back and forth, eyes dancing. Christmas lights turned his complexion green then red then blue.
She threw her arms around him. He was damp and withered. Pressing his cheek to the crown of her head, he gripped her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
“Are you all right?”
There was no way to explain what had happened in a sentence or two. He looked between them, his glances lingering on Cris. The door he’d just exited was slightly ajar. He quietly closed it and started toward the resort.
“Come on,” he said. “Both of you.”
His tone was firm. He wasn’t answering questions like Did you know we were up there, do you know what she’s doing, and why are we still here?
“Where are we going?” she said.
“We’re leaving.”
She’d never seen him run. He’d always walked briskly but never actually ran. Kandi dragged Cris after him. They made it halfway up the path before he stopped. He looked back. Insects quietly serenaded the island. It was the merriest place in the world.
“I should go back.”
“What?”
“I’m just going to slow you down.” He glanced back once more.
“You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“Away from here, does it matter?”
He looked down at their hands. For a moment, the wild boy looked small. They had trashed the miser’s lab and still it was difficult to turn away.
Kandi’s dad was feverishly waving from the resort. He ran all the way back and grabbed their arms. Cris reluctantly followed, occasionally looking back. As bad as it was, it was all he knew. The unknown was scary.
Her dad ushered them up the steps. Gliders rested in the foyer. Kandi turned one of them toward the master suite. The waterball fight and celebrations in the hallway were gone. Sandy had turned them off. Or they’d gone with him to the tower.
“There’s no time,” her dad said.
“What about our clothes? Your tool bags?”
He pulled her off the glider and onto the veranda. She held onto Cris and the three of them took the steps as a three-link human chain. Across the lawn, they raced for the beach. The moonlight turned the frothy waves silver.
The boat was waiting.
Her dad was short of breath when they reached the dock. He helped her onto the deck of the boat, the bow rocking on the incoming tide. Not waiting for Cris, he went to the cabin. The engines came to life. He came back out and began loosening the ropes.
“The boat will self-navigate,” he said. “You won’t have to do anything.”
“You’re not coming?”
“Once you’re off, it’ll return for me. Wait for me in the plane. Do you understand?”
“You’re not staying here, Dad. I’m not letting you.”
“You need to be safe.”
“You do, too. Whatever’s back there, leave it. It’s just stuff.”
“Just promise me you’ll wait in the plane.”
“So it can self-navigate me back to Alaska without you? What’s going on, Dad?” When he didn’t answer, she started climbing out.
“The job’s almost done. I promise I’ll meet you, Kan.” He turned to Cris. “You too.”
What part of the island wasn’t lit with Christmas lights was soaked in pale moonlight. The resort, though, was dark.
“I’m not scared,” Chris answered, “but this is where I belong.”
“You don’t belong here,” her dad said. “No one does.”
“I’m not like you.”
“You are.”
“Sonny was born out there. I came out of a box.” He pointed at the water. Somewhere out there was the mainland where people lived normal lives. “We’re not born on the island, we’re printed. I’m not her son; none of us are. We’re misfits.”
His cheeks were smudged with sweat and grime. He wasn’t quivering anymore. He stood tall and firm, once again sure about what he was doing. And who he was. He believed it.
Her dad took a deep breath. Anxiety hung on him like an old shirt. In situations like this, he recognized the problem quicker than most people did. The solution, too. He reached into his pocket. The box cutter she had given him once upon a time glinted in the moonlight.
“I belong out there”—her dad pointed toward the mainland—“and I’m old enough to be your father.”
He slid the blade out. The tip was pointed, the edge sharp. Cris could outrun him and never be found again. But her dad didn’t point it at him or wave it around. He flicked the triangular tip into his palm and grabbed Cris’s hand.
They didn’t shake hands like some ill-timed blood brother ritual. He leaned in and whispered something then let go and wrapped a handkerchief around his hand. Cris stared at his palm. He looked up with confusion.
“I’ll meet you on the plane,” her dad said. “Take care of her.”
Cris wiped his hand on his shorts and stepped onto the boat. Her dad loosened the last rope and shoved the boat. She couldn’t keep up with what was happening. He was going too fast. Her guts twisted with fear. She was already seasick.
“What just happened?” Kandi said.
“I’ll tell you later,” her dad shouted across the water. “I promise.”
He watched them from the dock, hands on his hips. The boat drifted away. He remained until the engines began churning the water. When he left, he didn’t run. He had rushed them out to the boat so she couldn’t ask questions, so she couldn’t think and see what he was doing. Now he took long, easy strides.
She drifted away from danger.
The island receded. The resort was dark. A few hundred yards out, she could see light in one of the windows. It was coming from the master suite at the east end.
“What did he tell you?” she said.
�
��I think he needs to be the one—”
“Why did he cut himself? What did he say?”
Cris kept shaking his head. He tried to turn so she couldn’t see the bloodstain on his hip. She grabbed him. Even in the moonlight, it was obvious. That wasn’t a crimson bloodstain where he wiped her dad’s blood off his hand.
It was dull gray.
The blood spot on the lab floor, the smears on his shorts when he cut his thumb. Artificial blood was red and vibrant. On the ground, it was dirty gray. Or wiped on a pant leg.
The miser talked about a secret.
She knew something Kandi didn’t. She knew her dad was hiding something from the world. From her.
“He tricked you,” she said. “He didn’t... he can’t... I mean, he studied that stuff with the skin and the organs, but he’s not...”
He didn’t answer, only shrugged. How else could her dad convince him so quickly? Her dad had somehow pretended to cut his hand and bleed the same stuff that ran through Cris’s veins. He shook hands like blood brothers.
“He’s not like you,” she said.
Cris looked back at the island. Home was getting farther away. He risked everything to stand next to her... and she just said that.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. You meant it.”
“He’s my dad, not some...”
“Thing?”
“No, no...”
Her tongue tied into a bow and fumbled in her cheek. She didn’t mean any of that. It was just her dad was her dad, he didn’t come from this island. But he tested his blood every month. And sometimes there were gray smudges left behind. He’s flesh and blood, not a printed simulation of a human body. He can’t be.
He’s my dad.
Cris watched her thoughts grind, his breath coming long and steady. She put her hand on his chest and felt his heart thumping.
What’s the difference?
She ran to the cabin and turned the boat’s wheel. When it continued straight, she began flipping switches and pushing levers.
“How do you turn this around?”
“I promised your dad—”
“How do you turn around?”
The engines found another gear. The wake cut deeper. Kandi went to the stern. The wind blew her hair all over. She couldn’t see the dock anymore, but there was still light in the master suite at the opposite end of the resort.
“You promised to take care of me,” she said. Blond locks fluttered around his cheeks. “I hope you’re a good swimmer.”
He tried to grab her, but she only needed three steps to reach the side of the boat.
THEY LAY ON THEIR BACKS.
The incoming surf buoyed a life saver between them. Waterlogged and exhausted, Kandi climbed onto her hands and knees. Her muscles were jelly.
“Why did you... do that?” he huffed.
“We forgot someone.” She stood up and squeezed the water from her shirt. “There’s a light in his master suite.”
He rolled onto the life saver and looked up. Her soggy shoes squished on the sand. He stumbled to his feet. They couldn’t see what she was talking about, but she’d seen it from the water. The entire resort was dark except for his master suite.
She swam back for a lot of reasons. Sonny was one of them.
They went to the foyer, where gliders were waiting. Kandi leaned on the handlebars. They sped down the B wing. The door to the computer room was open. She glanced on her way past, hoping her dad wasn’t in there; and if he was, hoping he wouldn’t see them.
Her hair was dry when they reached the end. Her sides hurt as she reached for the door. Cris pressed against the wall like Sandy used to do.
“He can’t see me,” he said. “He doesn’t know about us.”
Now was not the time to explain the whole cloning thing, that Sonny was just a copy of the miser’s son and he wasn’t the first one. Cris was sturdy and gritty, his hair as dirty and wild as his eyes. He still looked like him.
But he’s not him.
She pulled him next to her and did the jingle bell knock. The doors opened. The tree was fully decorated and the presents stacked halfway to the ceiling. Kandi’s breath fogged the glass. It was quiet.
Too quiet.
A shadow came around the corner. A boy in wrinkled pajamas looked at her with curiosity. He was frail. His arms were sticks, his cheeks sort of glossy and gray.
“Kandi? What are you—”
“We need to go.”
“Did you bring a friend?” He looked past her.
“Sonny, we have to—”
“I’m Sonny. What’s your name?”
There was a long pause. “Cris.”
“Sonny, we need to get out of here.”
“Go where?”
“On a trip.” She tried to smile. “An adventure, really. Cris is good with adventures.”
“What about the presents? It’s Christmas. There are ones for you to open; a whole stack is for you.”
“We can do that later. How do we open this?” She tapped the glass.
“I don’t know if I’m up for an adventure. I’m still feeling a little slow, and there will be cleaning up after presents. I took a nap today. I’ve never done that before.” A smile momentarily brightened his pallid complexion. “I dreamed of tunnels. Is that strange?”
Kandi looked around. The hallway was empty. She could search the rooms, maybe use a bed as a battering ram. But the answers were right behind them.
“Sonny, can you go to the next room for a minute? I want to try something.”
He was a little confused, but said he was making hot coco anyway. When he was gone, Kandi rode the glider down the hall. Cris pulled up on the glider next to her. She really wished Sandy wasn’t trapped in the tower. He would know how to do this.
“Go fast,” she whispered to the gliders. “And don’t stop.”
They lurched forward. Perhaps if it was a wall, the safety overrides would have kicked in. But a clear glass wall, maybe they wouldn’t notice. She hoped.
She also hoped it wouldn’t shatter.
They leaped off at the last second. There was a loud thunk. The invisible barrier didn’t shatter, but the gliders kicked the bottom of the glass wall forward and tipped the top of it toward them. A gust of wind whooshed past as it slammed on the floor. The gliders rammed into the tree. Ornaments flew from the branches and presents tumbled like bowling pins. Sonny came out with his lips as round as the mug in his hands.
“Kandi—”
“We’ll clean it up when we get back, I promise. I’ll tell your mother what happened.” She tried not to rush him. “We should probably go.”
He flinched when a late-falling ornament popped on the floor. She didn’t account for the shock of destroying his decorations. They might have to carry him.
“Snow,” he said.
“What?”
“Are we going to see snow?”
She glossed the lie with her shiniest smile. “Yeah, Sonny. We’re going to see snow.”
She took his hand and led him out of the master suite. His hard-soled slippers clapped on the fallen glass barricade. He stopped outside the door and wrinkled his nose.
“It smells funny out here.”
“Yeah. It does.”
He’d never been outside the room, at least not awake. He didn’t even know what the building smelled like let alone the outside world. Cris didn’t say anything. Maybe he remembered what it was like to smell the world for the first time. Now was not the time to be completely honest.
This isn’t a short trip, Sonny. It’s a long one. Maybe permanent. And Cris is your twin brother.
“Merry Christmas.” Sonny shook Cris’s hand.
Before they could climb onto the gliders and before she could think of how to find her dad, the building shook. Farther down the hall, the air buckled and warped. Kandi felt the heat on her face. Before Cris pulled them safely into a side room, she saw what was coming.
/> A wall of fire tore across the B wing.
CLAUS
38
The snow fell thicker than ever.
Giant flakes buried anything that stood still. The area around the miser’s sleigh, however, was clear. Claus had not stopped pacing. He would not sit until this was over.
It was Christmas.
The triplets urged him to leave. They still had time to make it back to the North Pole. When he insisted on staying, they stopped protesting. They trusted him.
And he trusted Naren.
The sack was still slumped in the back of the sleigh. A young boy was seated in front. The miser’s son sat unusually still. Hands on his lap, his posture was perfect. He stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, blinking every thirty seconds.
He wasn’t dreaming, wasn’t sleeping.
He would wake up refreshed and without a clue he’d been flashed. It would feel as if time had not passed, a section of his consciousness clipped from waking. He wasn’t the only one who had been flashed, just the only one still asleep.
The miser was fully awake.
Just as she had clutched the reins, the triplets floated a flashing crystal in front of the sleigh. They’d carried her, catatonic, to the tower and ignited the illusion before returning to the warehouse. It was risky, what they were doing. But the miser had too much power.
Too much of everything.
The triplets returned to the sleigh and hijacked the microscopic spies. Surveillance streamed in front of them. One was of the tower. The second was the events unfolding inside it.
The miser’s flight was anything but joyful.
Claus remembered his maiden flight well. He had gripped the reins so tightly that indentions remained in his palms for days. It took time to understand what he was doing. There was very little joy in those first few trips.
Certainly not the first one.
She did not recognize the house. She doesn’t remember who she is, Naren had said. As her past unfolded, Claus began to pace. The triplets gathered around the images like a campfire and watched her memories take hold.
Rise of the Miser: Claus, #5 Page 26