“What are you doing?” I say in disbelief. “They’ll know we’re here.”
“One moment,” he says, putting his finger to the reader again.
Red lights. He does it one last time and the lights stay red. I hear a clunk, a lock sliding into place. He turns and lets out a heavy sigh.
“Okay. Now it won’t open for half an hour. Or until the power gets reset.” He glances at our stunned faces. “It’s a safety protocol. We’ve had a couple of incidents here and there, and I had to reprogram the software so that if an unauthorized person tried to access the Helix three times, it would automatically—”
“—seal itself. That buys us time. Good thinking, Romie.”
Together, we turn to face the upward slope. After the panicky tension of the colony, the quiet presses down on us like a physical weight.
“Where do you think we’ll find Dosset?” Chloe asks quietly.
“At the top,” I say. “That’s where the Bridge will be. Where he can monitor everything from the safety of his private tower, alone.”
“Then that’s where we’re headed,” says Romie. “Lead on, Elizabeth.”
With determination, I begin the climb. I no longer take the steps of a victim, watching for signs of danger, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. I have friends with me now. Not to mention the EMP.
If anyone should be afraid, it’s Dosset.
One at a time we pass doors on the outside of the curve. I half-expect one of them to open, but I have a feeling we’re alone in the Helix. Dosset’s fear of a colony-wide panic, coupled with his desire to capture me, will make him overconfident. Just like in the airlock, when he sent Sarlow and McCallum out into the storm rather than consider all the angles.
This time I’ll use that arrogance against him.
When we reach the Verced lab, I decide it’s worth the extra time to replenish my supply. But when I pull the handle, it holds firm. No keypad in sight. Not that I’d know the combination even if there was one. Still, the missed opportunity irks me.
About halfway up the spiral, we reach the hall of interrogation rooms. I pause, my eyes flitting from door to door, wondering which holds Noah.
“He’s in one of those,” Chloe says in a hushed voice. “Isn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
All of us pause, and in that moment I have a sudden, fleeting sense of what Noah means to each of us. Friendship. Trust. Love. For different reasons, each of us feels compelled to go to him now, before letting more of him slip away. But we can’t. If we truly want to save him, our fight lies with Dosset. We won’t get a second chance.
Resisting the tugging on my heart, I turn away and start up the slope just as Chloe pulls away from my side.
“Chloe?” Romie asks uncertainly.
“I have to help him,” she whispers, wringing her hands. “I can’t just leave him here, with whatever they’re doing—”
“You can’t help him,” I say, reaching out for her. But she manages to twist out of reach. “Chloe, stop. We have to get Dosset first, or none of this matters. Noah won’t be of any use to us until it’s over.”
“It’s not about use,” she says, and her voice catches. “I can’t leave him like this.”
I can see that arguing is pointless. Because I know what she’s thinking—and I know that if I were her I’d probably do the exact same thing.
For half a second I consider trying to dig deeper into her thoughts, to find a way to use them against her like I did with the colony and the virus. Like I did with Terra. But I repel the idea at once, my shame returning in a swell of heat.
I’m not going to be like Dosset. That is a bridge I refuse to cross again—no matter how desperate I become.
“Okay,” I tell her tightly. “Just be careful.”
Romie clears his throat behind me.
“Should we really be splitting up?” he asks carefully. “It seems to me that, now more than ever, solidarity should be our highest priority. If Dosset doesn’t—”
“It’s fine,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
I glance back at Chloe, who regards me hesitantly. Almost fearfully.
“We’ll be fine,” I tell her.
She gives me a quick, grateful nod. Then she’s hurrying down the hallway, reaching for the first handle. I don’t stick around to see what she finds.
Further up the coil, the ship begins to change. Instead of the clean lines and smooth paneling of the rest of the colony, I see wires curling out from a myriad of plugs in the walls, sleek computers suspended on metallic arms, a line of barometric gauges. It’s chaotic by comparison, and it makes me feel claustrophobic. It wouldn’t be difficult to hide up here.
The doors grow fewer and fewer, and then we reach a final landing with a single door at the end. Silver, like the one at the bottom. Yet, just as with the entrance to the Verced lab, there’s no keypad or thumb reader here. Nothing but a camera watching me. I look straight into it.
“This is it, Romie.”
“I’m with you,” he replies, his voice betraying a quaver.
Behind this door are all my answers. It’s funny—I’ve spent all this time thinking about how to get to Dosset, but I never really considered what I’d say to him once I did.
Then again, maybe I won’t say anything.
Isn’t that what the Stitch is for?
First, I dial the blast radius of my EMP up to full. Then I reach for the handle and find it surprisingly unlocked. I follow my momentum, pushing it open and sweeping inside with Romie on my heels, one finger on the trigger of my weapon.
The domed room has two levels. The area beneath us is filled with rows of desks and chairs, all of them lightweight carbon, while the upper bridge spans the center of the room, looking down on everything else. One wall is made entirely of glass. From here you can see the whole valley, which is now cast into shadow by the rapid approach of another storm.
Along the other walls are the screens. They show security feeds from around the colony: cadets being rounded up, the panic now mostly subsided. And directly ahead of Romie and me, perched on the bridge and leaning against the railing, is Dosset.
The ghost of a smile crinkles his face.
“Well,” he says warmly, straightening up. “Here we are at last. I’m curious to see what you’ll do next, Elizabeth.”
Chapter Sixteen
My body is electric. I’ve envisioned this moment at least a dozen times. Anticipated how it would look, how I’d feel. I saw myself powerful and him cowering. I saw myself making threats and him asking for mercy, begging forgiveness for the things he’s done. But just like so many times before, I don’t see what’s coming until it’s too late.
Behind me, I hear the door click open.
I don’t have time to register the threat. What save me are my instincts—sensing the confidence in Dosset’s posture, the heavy feet moving behind me, I duck and stumble down the stairs to the lower level. At the bottom, I pivot, gaining my balance in time to see Romie clamped in McCallum’s thick arms.
Sarlow halts at the top of the stairs, leering at me.
“Just the two of you?” Dosset asks, his calm unruffled. “I imagine Chloe must have gone after Noah then.”
“How do you know that?” I demand as I backpedal, knocking chairs out of my way. I put a desk or two between us, expecting Sarlow to charge. But she doesn’t. She remains very still, watching me with open hostility.
What holds her back? I follow her gaze and realize she’s looking at the EMP. Of course—she doesn’t know what the device is.
As far as she’s concerned, it could be a bomb.
“Call it an educated guess,” Dosset says. “Why don’t you set down the device, and we can have a talk, you and I?”
“Let Romie go first,” I say with as much ferocity as I can gather.
“Relax, Elizabeth. We’re not going to hurt anyone.”
“No, you’ll just put us to sleep, right?” I’m grateful my voice is sharp—a
lmost raving. It makes me sound determined even if my hands are shaking. “Tell them to let Romie go, or I’ll detonate this thing.”
Dosset’s expression is impassive as a blast of lightning cuts the room in a camera flash, long shadows splayed across the walls. I don’t take my eyes off the doctors, but I can tell the storm is nearly upon us. The light from the window is swiftly fading, leaving the chamber an ominous, sterile gray.
“Patrick, give Romesh a little room to breathe, please.”
Obediently McCallum shoves Romie into a chair, placing a big hand on his shoulder, near his neck. Sarlow remains close to Dosset. Really, it’s kind of amazing to watch the two hulking scientists obey such a feeble man. Just as before, I can’t decide whether the doctors respect Dosset or fear him.
Maybe it’s both.
Dosset presses a button and a shield begins to lower behind me, covering the glass wall like an eyelid. Then he walks toward the stairs with his oxygen cart, the wheels giving a faint screech. I heft the EMP, keeping a thumb on the button.
“Stop,” I say. “Don’t come any closer.”
“What are you going to do, my dear? Set off your EMP and make us all root around in the dark for awhile?”
My face burns at having the gambit exposed so quickly.
“I could fry your Memory Bank. That’d be a terrible loss.”
“You needn’t worry,” he replies. “The Memory Bank is not only stored here. There is a copy. Though you are quite right—the loss of the cadets’ data would be most regrettable.”
The cadets’ data. His words breathe fresh life onto the dying embers of my anger. I lean into it, slipping it on like armor.
I just hope it’s enough to carry me through this.
“Before you drug us and erase all our memories, I’d like to know a few things,” I tell him. “About the whole ‘nuclear war’ story you fed Atkinson.”
I can feel Romie looking at me, but I don’t return his gaze. I stare Dosset down as he raises snowy eyebrows.
“Fed him?”
“It was a lie.”
Dosset frowns. “Why would I lie about that?”
“To torture him. Twist his thoughts. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Why else would you have kept us from our families?”
In response, he starts down the stairs toward me. When I raise the EMP threateningly, he sighs. “Have a seat, Elizabeth. It’s time we had a talk.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Well, that’s understandable. But I—”
“Stop moving!” I scream as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, a note of hysteria in my voice. I back into a chair, nearly knocking it over. “I don’t trust you. Just stay where you are.”
“Very well,” he says patiently, easing down at a desk.
Silence fills the gap between us, broken only by the raspy hiss and click of his oxygen tank. I wonder if there are any electronic components involved. I don’t think so. But if anything was reliant on power, I could kill him easily. Just the push of a button.
I stare at the tank for so long that I forget he’s watching me. Clearly waiting for me to speak. Just like Shiffrin used to do.
“I asked you a question,” I say coldly, allowing my temper to carry me forward.
“Yes,” he says. “But I think you’ve known the answer, haven’t you? Denial is the first step in grieving. You know that, at least.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Searching his dark eyes like black holes, like the lenses of the cameras, I don’t find the malice I’m looking for. I find something else. Something that makes me hate him even more than I knew I could, choking my fury and leaving only a cold vacancy where the fire once burned.
Pity.
“They’re dead,” I say, testing the toxic words.
“Yes.”
“Why don’t I remember that?”
“Because those memories were not stored in the Memory Bank,” he says without even hesitating. “They were discarded.”
“That doesn’t make any—”
“It was a cataclysm,” Dosset interrupts. “As I’m sure Marcus told you, the bombs claimed millions. However, a nuclear warhead had never been detonated in a modern city. The result was firestorms like the world had never seen. The fires drew in air, as fires will do, creating vortexes, pushing ash up into the stratosphere. In turn, the ash superheated the ozone, burning it off. Higher ultraviolet radiation meant mutation, diminished plant life, diminished marine life… diminished life in general. Global famine for anyone who survived—not to mention cancer from that same radiation. Tumors developed, people went blind, and then they died. All while we were building the place that could have saved them, in theory. But time was not on our side.”
The whole image is so horrific, I can hardly take it. I look away and find Romie staring at me. The shock is written all over his face. But even without it, I can guess at what he’s thinking. That I betrayed them by keeping secrets? That I should have told them sooner? Well, I didn’t. I tried to be selfless, to protect them. But all of that is over with.
“Not really on our side now, either,” I say as I turn back to Dosset. “Since you’ve stopped terraforming the planet.”
His eyes widen and I know I’ve surprised him. So he didn’t think I knew about that. He takes a moment before he answers.
“When I volunteered for Mars Colony One, I was chosen to be the colony director. But that’s not why I pursued the mission. By occupation, I’m a neuroscientist. My primary interest was to understand humanity and how our surroundings affect us.” He pauses, as if weighing his next words. “Tell me, what was it like seeing the thoughts of your fellow cadets for the first time? Did it change your opinion of them, to know their most formative memories? I imagine it must have been quite the adjustment, balancing their feelings and desires with your own.”
His words take me off guard. Yet my surprise is quickly drowned in a flood of indignation.
It’s none of his business how I felt. Now that I’ve finally got him out of my head, I’m not about to let Dosset back in so easily.
“Why did you shut down Aster?” I ask again.
He eyes me steadily.
“Sit down, Elizabeth.”
“I’d rather stand.”
Dosset turns in his chair.
“Take Romesh to interrogation room three, please,” he says.
“No!” I shout, stumbling forward. But Sarlow blocks my path, and McCallum is already pulling Romie from the room. The last I see of him is his eyes, wide with fear, as he’s roughly dragged out the door.
I long to detonate the EMP, to do something, anything, but I can’t. Because who would it even help? Not Romie or the others. Even in the dark, they’d catch me. And I have nowhere left to run even if I did get away. I’m powerless.
Dosset watches me, as if reading my thoughts.
“I admire your resilience,” he says. “Undoubtedly, it’s what equipped you to withstand the burden of the Memory Bank. But now you must realize that resisting won’t help. Not if you want answers. So I wonder: Will you choose to give up your weapon and hear what I have to say? Or will you continue to make threats and fight a battle you can’t win?”
His gaze has taken on a new quality. He regards me steadily. Probingly. Like a scientist observing a test subject.
In a fresh wave, I feel the puncturing frustration of my helplessness. If he isn’t lying—and I have no way of being sure—he’s offering me a final chance to learn the truth, which is more than I could have asked for.
But to give up the EMP would be giving up my very last hope. I’d be accepting that I’ve seen Noah for the last time. That if I ever reunite with my friends, they won’t know who I am. And quite possibly neither will I.
Words fail me. In the mere seconds that follow, my mind works numbly through the steps that brought me to this defeat.
Because it is a defeat. I can’t make Dosset talk. Even if he’s bluffing and the EMP could destroy the Memory Bank right now, I’d ne
ver do it on purpose. I couldn’t make that sacrifice for the other cadets. And Dosset knows it.
Yet for some reason, he’s carrying on with the ruse that I have a choice.
Why?
My finger works in tiny circles over the trigger. From the iron grip that Sarlow is exerting on the railing, I can tell her patience is wearing thin. But Dosset remains as placid as ever.
I can’t see any other option. He outsmarted me. Yet as I carry the EMP to the desk, set it down, and slide it across the surface, I feel strangely detached from the experience. I can’t rid myself of the idea that I missed something.
Dosset smiles.
“Jackie?”
Instantly Sarlow lumbers down the stairs to retrieve the device. But as her hands close around the strap, Dosset says, “You may go.”
She straightens up in shock, the EMP swinging like a pendulum off her shoulder.
“Go? But she—”
“I’d like to speak with Elizabeth alone,” he says firmly.
Her jaw tightens, and she flicks her gaze at me, as if somehow I’m responsible for the order. But her reply is neutral as she says, “I’ll be right outside the door.”
As soon as she’s gone, Dosset calmly turns his gaze back to me. No longer sure what to do with my hands, I cautiously slide into a seat on the other side of the table.
Now it’s my turn to wait for him to speak—and in only a moment, he does.
“First, I must apologize for the pressure that Atkinson has placed on you. His quarrel was with me, and his decision to involve you was carelessly unfair.”
I snort.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to comment on what is or isn’t fair.”
“Perhaps,” he says with a mild shrug. “But consider that you have only heard Atkinson’s half of the story. You may feel differently once you know mine.”
Again I wait for him to go on.
“When the nuclear war began, we’d only been here a month,” he says at length. “At the time, all of the cadets were allowed to speak with their parents weekly by sending video logs. When the nuclear attack happened, return messages ceased.”
Biome Page 21