Ascendancy

by Karri Thompson

  He pointed to a large slab of rock half buried on the sand. A white crab with a blue back and a body the size of my fist scurried across the rock top, stopping every few steps to wipe the smaller of his two claws against his mouth.

  “Cool. There’s another one,” I said and pointed to the side of the rock where another crab lingered.

  He smiled intently at the crab, and before I gave him a teasing laugh, I remembered that practically everything that didn’t have to with genetics was brand new to him. He’d never been to a zoo or a marine park.

  A small wave hit the shore and soaked his shoes before he jumped away. “Be careful. Watch for crocs.” He kicked at the sand and jogged away as the water swelled against the beach, and I watched the crab make its way to the edge of the rock and drop down to a bed of washed-up kelp.

  The glistening rock, patched with barnacles, bounced the sun in my direction, and as I squinted from under Trail’s ball cap, a smattering of half-dollar-size indentations caught my attention. I ran my fingers across the unevenly spaced pattern of dots; the arrangement of markings looked oddly familiar.

  Scooting up my sleeve, I examined the badge of my arm, comparing its strange arrangements of dots to that of the stone. They were identical!

  “Michael. Quick. You have to see this. You won’t believe it.”

  He walked to the other side of the rock, holding a rope of kelp in his hand, stroking one of its slimy leaves, but in the next moment as his eyes darted from my badge to the rock and back again, his smile dwindled and the strand of kelp fell from his hands.

  “Oh my God.” he said. “It’s been laser-etched. But why? What does this location have to do with a secret society?”

  “I don’t know, but obviously there’s a connection somewhere,” I said, wiping the dried salt from my hands. “Maybe this rock is a marker of some kind. There are three additional islands out there besides Possession. The society’s headquarters or safe house could be on one of them.”

  “That close to an island housing a government-controlled project? It would be too risky, especially with deliveries coming and going. Maybe it’s a warning for its members not to go beyond this point.”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it means, it’s not going to stop us.”

  We scanned the shore for more clues, searching every rock in the immediate area for a sign. But after an hour of searching and finding nothing, I grabbed an apple from our bag of supplies, sat on the far edge of the marked stone, and took a bite. Michael joined me, peeling an orange and carefully placing the pieces of rind in the small hollow of one of the dots.

  “Are you ready?” I finally asked in a groan as I wiped the perspiration from my forehead. “We’ll fly to the far end of Wurrka Island. From there we’ll come up with a plan before we make our leap to Possession.”

  “Let’s do it,” said Michael. “I’ll drive.”

  The Model Three rose, leaving the grass beneath it yellowed and scorched from the mover’s exhaust system. “Is that normal?” I asked.

  “It is in this humidity.”

  Two miles felt like ten with the climate controls manually disabled to preserve fuel and keep the mover’s engine cool enough to sustain the hoverment above the swell of the waves. Twice when Michael let the mover drop to avoid a sea bird, the vehicle rattled as the water crested below, drumming its watery fingers against the undercarriage.

  “And there’s Possession Island,” I announced with a dry throat. “Check out those saltwater crocodiles. If the engine fails and our hoverment gives out, right now would not be the time.”

  From this height, they looked as benign as driftwood, but with their webbed feet and streamlined bodies, crocs were graceful, powerful swimmers and determined killers in their comfort zone: water.

  As we approached Wurrka, we couldn’t find a place to land. With trees taller than any hoverment we dared attempt, we followed the white line of the shore west and then rounded north. Skirted in a white band of beach, Wurrka’s center was a rainforest.

  “There’s a spot.” I pointed at a small clearing fifty feet from the shore and surrounded by trees. “That’s perfect. No one from Possession will be able to see us or the mover from there, but from between the trees, we’ll be able to see Possession.”

  “And we’ll watch it, and wait until dark before we make the next leap,” said Michael.

  The tree line before the clearing dropped just enough for the mover to inch over it, and as we landed, a flock of birds burst into the blue sky. The mover rested at an odd angle, and when Michael and I walked around the outside of it, giving it an inspection, we could see why. The ground was not just wet, it was saturated from a recent rain and the wheels on the passenger side of the mover were sunk in a half foot of pure mud.

  “That won’t affect our lift off, will it?”

  “No, it shouldn’t as long as the exhaust doesn’t get clogged,” he answered as mud squished under his shoes. From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of black as Michael tossed this hat through the opened window on the driver’s side of the mover. As his hair clumped together in strands damp from sweat and the humidity, he said, “Damn, it’s hot,” and pulled his sticky tunic over his head. I watched his muscles ripple as he crumpled his shirt into a ball and chucked it on top of the hat on the passenger seat.

  The humidity frizzed the ends of my hair and made the rest of it droop. Twisting the bulk of it into a ponytail, I wrapped it into a messy bun and kept it in place by looping a taunt strand of my hair around its base.

  “Take off your shirt,” he said against a background of bird song.

  I jumped. “What?” Not that he hadn’t seen me in my bra before, but still.

  “That tunic’s too hot.”

  With little give on the tunic’s part, it was a fight getting it over my head, and by the time it scraped over my chin, Michael joined the fight, freeing me from my tug-o-war with one yank. My bun fell apart, and I twirled my rope of hair again, locking it in place near the top of my head.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, starring down at my cleavage.

  Beams of sunlight projected between the tree trucks, and I followed one to the shore and stared at the channel of water separating one island from the other.

  “Never Neverland,” I said as he came up behind me. And with those words, something inside me broke, releasing another deluge of pent-up emotions, causing me to miss everyone I ever loved all at once.

  “What’s Never whatever-you said?”

  I wiped a small tear away with my finger, making sure he didn’t see. “It’s the first thing I thought of as our mover circled above the island when we were looking for a place to land.”

  “Why? What is it?”

  “It’s an island in a children’s book called Peter Pan. Neverland is a place where children refuse to go up.” But I couldn’t hold my tears. “I wish I was there right now,” I cried. “I’ve grown up too soon, Michael. I’m eighteen. I should be just finishing up my last year of high school, but I’m the mother of three children, and supposedly it’s my destiny to save the world. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for any of it.”

  I fell against his chest. Sobbing and taking big breaths, his bare chest rocked against mine, his breathing deep and slow. “Don’t cry. Remember that you’re not alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what happens.” He kissed the top of my head, and as my hands reached around his back, I lifted my head and stared lovingly into his eyes.

  His first kiss was a graze, the brushing of his lips against mine, like he was testing me, making sure I wanted to be kissed when my cheeks were streaked with tears. Finding no resistance on my part, his next kiss came harder and longer, and I was first to push my tongue to meet his.

  Lowering me to the soft grass above the sand line, Michael lay next to me, clutching the back of my thigh with one hand, his other arm tight about my shoulder, and his fingers gripping my flesh. As his hand slip to the
base of my bra, I nudged it away with the point of my elbow. The second time he tried, his fingers inching underneath the hem, I grabbed his hand and guided it to my other shoulder.

  “Cassie,” he said between breaths. “Today might be our last day together. If we don’t come up with a plan that works, we’ll never see each other again. They’ll make sure of it. This could be the only chance we have to—”

  “And that’s why we can’t. When it happens, I don’t want it to be like this.” I sat up and brought my knees toward my chest. “We both stink. I haven’t shaved in almost a week,” I said, dropping my arms. “We’re dripping in sweat, and we’re desperate. Desperation is not a reason for us to—”

  “And love isn’t?”

  Away from GenH1, Michael was no longer Dr. Bennett, the reserved medical genius. He was a naive guy with hormones he couldn’t control, and I couldn’t help but feel like we were two out-of-control, inexperienced teens in the back seat of a car, attempting to do something we knew we shouldn’t. Someone had to stop us, and it was me.

  “It doesn’t seem right when our daughters are just across the channel, locked away from the world.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, but sometimes I can’t help myself. I’m happy to just hold you,” he said, pushing himself up from the ground.

  “Hey, what’s that? Quick, back into the forest!” Michael pulled me up and pushed me to move. Running hip to hip, we dashed back into the confines of the jungle then fell to our knees.

  A low whine resonated through the trees. A shadow the size of a small whale penetrated the canopy above us.

  “It’s heading for Possession Island,” he said as we made our way toward the tree line.

  “This must be one of their weekly deliveries.”

  Michael rested his chin on my shoulder as the cargo flyer floated to the center of the island and hovered, stirring the tree tops below. “Look at those trees. It’s just like Chu-Lung said.”

  Apart from the others, a distinct set of tree tops remained stable, despite the flyer’s turbulent exhaust. The flyer lowered just outside the ring of unmoving trees, and in the next minute, a section of trees rotated to the side like they were fixed to a hinged gate.

  “At least we know where the Area Four compound is located.” He smiled.

  “Do you think our key will open that gate, too? So far, it’s worked on every other door we encountered.”

  “Who knows? The only way we’ll find out is when we try to use it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “We’ll come up with a plan,” Michael had said when we were at Chu-Lungs. “We always do.”

  But while I gave myself a quick, half bath using the bottled water and soap the lady in the orange tunic had given us, I couldn’t think of what to do. The clothes from the green bag fit perfectly, but I wasn’t surprised. My sizes were recorded in Liaison, like everything else about me.

  Michael pushed through the green foliage, having returned from his own makeshift bath. Like mine, his clothes conformed nicely to his shape, his sizes originally determined through a body scan.

  I understood what he meant about how this might have been our only time to be together, but I just couldn’t do it, not yet. Not like this. And it seemed like he understood, too. Though as he took a seat next to me on the mover’s trunk, and I watched the muscles in his thighs flex beneath his pants, I almost wished I had agreed.

  “Even if our key opened the gate, once we slipped inside, then what? How could we blend in or keep from being seen and found?” I huffed.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” he said.

  The E-Paper bounced with color as I unrolled it. “Here’s the gate.” I pointed, and Michael’s eyebrows came together like his map skills had slightly improved. “There’s an obscura at the top of each man-made tree, but from what I see here, the trees aren’t the fence, they’re attached to it. If we can somehow slip behind the trees we might be able to avoid the obscuras.”

  I traced the map with my finger, proposing different scenarios that included hiding in bot closets and slipping through the halls of each ward like we did in GenH3. He suggested others, like posing as new employees if we could get our hands on the proper uniforms. Eventually our ideas became so far-fetched it sounded like we were describing an action movie.

  “Oh my gosh, Michael! What the hell did we get ourselves into? I’m not a freakin’ Charlie’s Angel and you’re certainly no James Bond.”

  “James who?”

  “Forget it.”

  “So you’re ready to give up, turn ourselves in, and spend the rest of our lives as prisoners?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air.

  “No,” I huffed.

  “Then shake off your frustration and let’s try again. Are you okay? You look kind of pale.” He shifted his hand to the top of my thigh. The E-Paper slid from my lap, lost its integrity, and rolled itself back up with a snap.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  But I wasn’t. A pain gnawed at my guts, radiating up into my chest, ending with a burn. A wave of nausea came next, and I swallowed hard to keep what little there was in my stomach from making a second appearance.

  “You aren’t fine, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m scared. Honestly, I think we’re screwed.” And as I placed my hand on top of his, it shook like I was back at Trail’s, sitting across from Michael in a tub filled with cold water and ice cubes. “What about you? Why are you so calm?” Besides a strand of hair rising a little higher from the rest, he was as composed as the day we played Ascendancy at GenH 1, and I imagined him now, in his GenH1 uniform, the genetics’ genius, the boy wonder, praised by his elders for bringing a girl back from the dead.

  “I’ve already prepared myself for death, Cassie.”

  The burning rose to my throat. “What?”

  “During those two hours in the isolation ward, I thought about my life. What is was like before I met you and what it’s like now. And I realized that I’ve done more living in the last year than I have in all twenty-one years of my life put together. Growing up at GenH1, being groomed for my role as geneticist since the time I could talk and walk was no life at all. I wouldn’t have picked that life for myself if I had a choice.” He licked his lips and caught his eyes with mine. “You are what life is all about—being brave and resilient—not taking ‘no’ for an answer when your gut and your morals tell you differently. Persevering against all odds. Being able to make the wrong choice when it’s the better choice, and not letting your decision eat you up inside. Staying strong—that’s you, Cassie.”

  My eyes teared up. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

  “No, I’m not. When I was in that isolation cell, I thought I’d never see you again. That I’d be locked up forever. That I’d die there—not by taking my own life like Travel did, but because I’d fight for my freedom any chance that I got. That I’d rather die trying than give up.” He took a deep breath through his nose. “I knew my life would end soon, and I accepted that fate because I also knew I would die without any regrets.”

  “You don’t have any regrets?”

  “No matter what happened then or what happens now, I don’t regret anything. I don’t regret fathering our twins. I don’t regret falling in love with you, and I don’t regret defying the program and running away with you and Victoria to Region Three. I still hope that someday we’ll find our way back to Tasma to run the Van Winkle Project together. And move from my house into yours. But if that doesn’t happen, I’m grateful I’ve had the opportunity to live my last moments with you.”

  I didn’t want him to have any regrets, to judge and second-guess himself. I smiled and locked my gaze on his, my eyes soft and brimming with my love for him.

  “And because of all of that, you’re not afraid?” I asked.

  “I’m not afraid of dying, but I’m still afraid for you and Victoria and the twins.”

  Michael gripped my trembling hand. The warmth pushed
the burning sensation back down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to bring back my confidence.

  “Come on, you’re stronger than this.”

  “I know I am. At least I usually am.” I sighed.

  I’d regretted getting him into this mess with me. Though he made his own choice to do so, I could have stopped him. Not accepted his help. Left him behind on more than one occasion. But looking into his eyes, seeing them burning for the chance at freedom and the life he wanted and deserved, renewed the energy in my soul. He was here because he wanted to be. My fight had equally become his.

  I pulled his hand, drawing his body against mine in a hard embrace. I pictured Michael living with us and got a warm feeling in my stomach. It was something worth hoping for, no matter what. “Thank you,” I said as I nuzzled my head against his warm neck. “I want you in my life. I need you in my life.”

  “I love you, Cassie.” He kissed the top of my head, and when he swallowed, I felt if against my cheek.

  “Um, let’s take a look at the map again,” I said, lifting away from him and wiping the corners of my eyes dry.

  The E-Paper danced back to life as I unrolled it and balanced it across my knees. “Check out the gate.” The swipe of my finger enlarged and enhanced the front section of the compound’s enclosure, and as it continued to expand, it revealed the gate’s inner mechanics. Pocked with obscuras and reinforced with steel beams, it was virtually impenetrable.

  “Even if our key opens the gate, there’s no way we could slip through without being seen, even at night.”

  “What’s this?” He pointed to a section of the enclosure marked by a thick, bold line.

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t notice that before.”

  “And there’s another one over here.”

  The outline of the compound slightly thickened in two areas at the far end of the compound, and when I increased the map’s magnification, I understood why.

  “What are they?” His eyebrows came together, producing soft lines between them, and his eyes reflected the bright lights of the E-Paper.