And he had Samuel as well, who could only stand by helplessly, just like her, as the two boys did what they each thought they had to do.
There was something else Jack had, of course. He had her.
She could end this.
The device was strangely cool and heavy in her hand. She’d never held such a thing. It should be more menacing, this object that could end all their lives. The door had clicked shut, though, and the walls were strong. Surely they would contain the blast. It would be quick. One bright, fiery light, and it would be over. There’d be a Binding Ceremony for her, one they would have had anyway now that she was fractured, and her sisters would reach for one another’s touch and sigh regretfully about the next Pairing Ceremony’s uneven numbers.
The black tube blurred in her cold fingers. Less than a minute had passed, but it felt like forever, like time stretched before her slipping away, time she would have taken to discover who she was, this new, fractured person who read poetry and heard music and felt a burning in her chest that belonged only to her, this Althea.
She closed her eyes, and the world became distant and muffled, drained of all sound except the sound of Jack’s music in her mind. The sound became more beautiful for the pain of knowing she would miss the next time Jack played and caught her watching him, that crooked smile curling his lips, his fingers thrumming to the beat of her too-fast heart.
No, she couldn’t think about that. It made it too hard. It would be easy to just let go. What had the poem said, over and over, about losing everything?
It isn’t hard.
It isn’t hard.
It isn’t too hard . . .
A hand closed over hers. Her eyes still shut, she took one breath, and then another, before looking up. Samuel-299 gave a minute shake of his head. His hand drew hers away from the tube, her shaking finger from the depressed black button as his own held it down, and then the device was his.
The fight continued, but the door to the Sample Room swung wide. Plaster and porcelain from broken statues littered the floor. Samuel held the trigger and looked out the glass wall of the Ark. His gaze went to the two boys. Sweat and blood dripped down their faces. Jonah had a wooden spear from a display of art on the wall. He used it as a club, but Jack blocked it with the cast on his arm until he finally grabbed it and snapped it in half. They struggled, rolled, and then came to a stop, each with a jagged spike at the other’s throat. If either of them wanted, the other could be dead in an instant. Their chests heaved, and their faces, pale and precisely boned, tightened with determination. Neither boy moved.
“Don’t,” Jack said.
“Why not?” Jonah said, the words forced through clenched teeth. “You think it matters that a clone cares about you? That means nothing. You know nothing. You’re so weak, so stupid. God, I can’t believe how stupid you are, caring about them, wanting them to care about you. You don’t need her, or the Samuel. I didn’t need them! I didn’t have them, and I was fine!” Jonah shook Jack. He was so angry, but Althea couldn’t tell anymore at who or what. “I was fine!” he said again, his voice breaking.
Althea had had enough. Mindful of the thin wire connecting the explosives to the trigger Samuel held, Althea unbuckled the belt and freed herself. She ran from the Ark, straight for Jack and Jonah, throwing herself between them. Their fists still clutched the makeshift daggers as she pried them apart.
“Stop this!” she cried, feeling the unrelenting press of their bodies as they strained toward each other. The tendons of Jonah’s neck corded against his skin.
It was Jack who relented first, and when she felt him give way, she pushed as hard as she could. His startled eyes broke from Jonah and, as if emerging from a dream, he took in Althea, out of the Ark and no longer holding the trigger.
Jonah followed Jack’s gaze to Sam. He pushed Althea away from him.
“What are you doing?” Jonah said to Samuel.
Echoing Jonah’s confusion, Jack said, “Sam?”
Samuel stood in the open doorway of the Ark. “Get out of here, out of the main cavern if you can.”
Jack stared blankly. “What?”
Samuel offered a bleak smile. “I’ll close the door, but I don’t know if it’ll hold.”
Althea saw the moment realization hit Jack. He looked down sharply, veiling the riot of emotions that distorted his features.
“There’s no time left,” Samuel said. “It’s morning. The brothers and sisters are awake. The Council will know where we are.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Jack said angrily.
“I know the path we’re on,” Sam said. “Jonah wants to destroy the Ark for revenge, but I have my own reasons. I understand now that it’s the only thing that can save us.” He looked at Jonah. “I know what they did to you in Copan. I won’t let that happen again, to anyone.”
Jonah stepped away, blinking in confusion.
“No,” Jack said.
“It shouldn’t have come to this,” Sam said. “I should have done more. But you have to leave Vispera, Jack. Make your own life. Take Althea and go. Promise me, Jack.”
Jack could only shake his head. Samuel came forward and, careful of the explosives, took Jack in a tight embrace.
“No, Sam,” Jack said, his voice muffled. “I won’t let you.”
Samuel looked at Althea from across Jack’s shoulder. It was a brief glance, but in that glance, they communed.
She felt from Samuel a prism of emotion; intricate, difficult, but strong enough to take her breath away. Even with both of them fractured, as they surely were now, it filled every limb of her body like bright multicolored light, as if he’d been holding on to this one last connection they shared, letting it build until he could use it for his own purpose before losing it forever.
Communing with Samuel was stronger than anything she’d felt from communing before, even with her sisters. She didn’t just feel his emotions, she saw the world through his eyes, and she saw into his mind. In the darkness of the cave she saw all three of them, Jonah, Jack, and herself. They looked so young, and she understood that that’s how Samuel saw them, as so terribly young. Then she saw beyond what was in front of Samuel’s eyes, to the brothers and sisters now rushing to the Tunnels, knowing something was wrong, to the community of Vispera with an expanse of cloudless blue sky behind it, and farther than that, she saw three centuries of Homo factus reaching back through time. Samuel saw their history differently than she ever had. He imagined them in a boat drifting with a current, leaving a long, dark chevron behind them in the water, and in front, a still, glassy surface the boat hadn’t yet touched, reflecting like a dark mirror the future ahead.
Althea gasped at what he saw there—not just what he saw, but what he knew. If he didn’t act now, Vispera and everyone in it would die. Perhaps it was too late already. Samuel showed her the dwindling future generations struggling desperately to survive, crawling and clawing their way over countless twisted, suffering bodies. Bodies they’d made from the glass slides in the Ark. It wasn’t just the cruelty to the humans that Samuel feared, it was the damage they did to themselves in enacting such cruelty. The same damage Samuel felt inside himself now.
The image shifted then to Jack. He was an infant smiling in a cradle, and then a child running through tall grass into the Inga’s arms. Jack’s and Inga’s images separated, connected, released and caught like woven fibers of two colors joining into a single vivid picture. Althea felt Samuel’s despair, his love, and his all-embracing need to fulfill a promise he’d made a long time ago.
She let the feelings and colors recede, and nodded silently to the question in his eyes.
Although it seemed longer to Althea, it had all taken only a moment, and Jack had sensed nothing of what passed between them.
Samuel pulled away and brushed back the hair on Jack’s brow. Jack looked lost.
“Jack,” Althea said. “Come with me.”
Jack swallowed. “Don’t, Althea.”
Althea
considered him—the filthy shirt, the pallid face framed by sweat-stained hair and blood, the overly bright eyes pleading with her. Even understanding what Samuel needed from her, she hated what it would do to Jack.
“Come with me,” she said quietly.
He blanched, aware of what she was doing.
“They’re here,” Samuel said. “They’re outside the door. I can feel them there.”
Jack seemed in a trance, like he’d gone numb. Althea pushed him forward, getting him to move through the cavern and toward the entrance. He looked back at Samuel as he left.
Jonah’s gaze too was strangely empty.
“This is what you wanted, the Ark gone,” she said, letting her anger at Jonah fuel the strength it took to penetrate his vacant stare. “Did you want to stay and watch?”
Jonah flinched from her as if he didn’t recognize her. Althea shoved him in the direction Jack had gone.
Samuel was in the doorway, the samples in their numberless glass slides shining behind him. The black tube was clutched in his hand, which was strong and steady. Althea placed her own hand over his, just as he had done earlier to her.
“You’re sure this is the right thing?” she said.
“In the end, how can we be sure of anything? I know only that he’s my son.”
Samuel spoke the word clearly: son. Althea thought about Althea Lane, about the families that had built Vispera, the sons and daughters, mothers and fathers. Whatever son really meant, to Samuel it was painful, dazzling, and the only thing that mattered.
“Keep them back,” Samuel said. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but if I don’t do this now, nothing will ever change.”
Althea squeezed his hand one last time, then turned from him and raced to catch up with Jack and Jonah. The two boys in front of her were swallowed by the crowd that had come through the door. Samuel-297 was ahead of them all, and he stopped and clutched Althea’s shoulders. His fingers dug into her skin.
“What’s he doing?” he said. Her teeth rattled as he shook her.
Althea glanced back, and Samuel-297 followed her gaze. The light was still on in the Ark. Samuel was silhouetted in black against it, his lab coat a stark, square outline.
Samuel-297 yanked her back to face him. “We’ve felt nothing from him for two days, and then just now . . . What was that? What does he think he’s doing?”
“You know what he’s doing,” she said to Samuel-297. “And you don’t want to be here when he does it.”
Samuel-297’s features contorted in disbelief. He’d seen and felt what Althea had when Samuel communed, but processing it was too much. He wasn’t going to budge, and the others were coming quickly behind.
She looked back. Maybe the door would hold some of the explosion back. She’d stalled Samuel-297 at least, and she supposed it was best she could do. She couldn’t wait anymore. Flinging herself on the Samuel’s arms, she dragged him down behind a huge steel cabinet that jutted from the wall. He didn’t resist, because he knew as well as she did what was about to happen. Crouched as low as she could get, she covered her head. There was a rush of muffled noise as her hands closed over her ears, and her fast-beating pulse pounded in her head.
A million things could go wrong. The door to the Ark could crumple like paper. The wall separating the Ark from the cave could collapse. The entire cave could come down on top of them, killing them and destroying everything inside, leaving them buried like Althea Lane years ago.
Althea counted her breaths as she used to do with her sisters when they counted the seconds before the thunder. There was no thunder, however.
There was silence, and more silence.
And then an explosion.
She perhaps fainted, but she wasn’t sure. The cavern was oddly quiet, then sounds filtered in and Althea realized that pandemonium had erupted around her. Her ears were ringing, and the crash of rubble and the screams of those around her were muted as if coming from a great distance. She’d been knocked back and lay looking up at the cavern ceiling in a daze, feeling as if her bones had been shaken inside her. She sat up carefully to see the others, farther away from the blast but still stunned, their arms protecting their heads as if they were taking cover in an earthquake. Samuel-297 lay next to her, stirring confusedly, mumbling something she couldn’t hear. Before she could do more to gather herself, Jack was at her side.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, still dazed. Though he was right in front of her, his voice sounded like it came from far away. The Ark was hidden in layers of flame, smoke, and debris. Althea couldn’t see the door, but it was apparent the explosion had not been contained. She reached for Jack, but he was staring at Samuel-297.
Jack bent over the man and shook him. He moaned.
“Is he dead?” Jack demanded. “Come on! Aren’t you supposed to know?”
“Stop!” Althea said. “You’re hurting him.”
Jack, getting nothing from Samuel-297, stormed in the direction of the blast. Althea pulled herself to her feet and caught up to him, grabbing his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“What if he survived?” he said, his eyes frenzied. “What if he needs help?”
“Jack, he’s gone.”
Just as she spoke, a tower of bookshelves fell before her with a crash. Volumes landed flaming to the ground, crackling and releasing snowy ash into the air. One landed at her feet and the pages contracted, wrinkling the words into a knot of flame.
Residue of the explosion—burnt cloth, particles of canvas, scraps of paper—showered them from above like rain. It floated and drifted lazily about their heads, bits of it glowing inside with smoldering ash. The ceiling heaved.
“Jack,” Althea said. “The cave.”
Jack looked up, bewildered, as if he’d forgotten they were inside the earth and it was preparing to swallow them whole. He looked back down at her, his eyes glancing to her forehead. “You’re hurt,” he said.
She reached up and felt blood.
“Jack, Samuel’s dead.” Her voice echoed in her ears. A piece of the cavern wall crumbled to the floor. Samuel-297 must have come to at some point, because she didn’t see him anymore. “We have to get out.”
Jack nodded curtly. He took her arm, and they hurried toward the entrance of the cave. The sounds of fire, shattering porcelain, and screeching metal emanated from within the murky fumes. The blast in the Ark had shaken the whole cave, and the initial damage was causing more, like the fall of titanic dominoes. Statues skittered along the floor, knocked over by a slab of buckling concrete. Hunks of rock fell like hail, breaking away from the wall and ceiling. A haze of dust and ash obscured her vision, and a thin, gritty powder sifted into her hair and eyes.
Althea looked back. The section of the cave from where they’d come had disappeared, lost in a collapse of ceiling, and the remaining cave felt like it was sagging, like it’d held on for too many centuries and now it had let go into crumbling fissures spreading throughout the floor and walls. The seams patterned the ground in twisting ribbons.
They stumbled from the cave and gasped in clean air while towering plumes of dust rose from the door to the Tunnels. Carson-312 stood nearby with the older generation of Altheas and Viktors. Althea searched the crowd for Jonah, but saw no sign of him.
Low thunder rumbled beneath their feet, and people screamed at the ground tumbling into itself. Althea staggered as Jack’s grip tightened on her arm, and she became aware that he was using her to hold himself up. When he folded, she went down with him. His forehead pressed to his knees. Under the open sky, beneath a blazing sun shadowed by sooty smoke, Althea wrapped her arms around Jack’s shoulders and rested her cheek on his smooth, dusty hair. She waited for the shudder of earth and bone to slow, finally, and cease.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jack
Go, Sam had said.
He’d said it again as he held Jack in the Tunnels, an insistent whisper in his ear before Jack had left him to die. It
was the voice Jack had known since he was child, a voice he heard while racing through trees into the jungle, trying to get away from the world Sam had made for him. A voice that read to him from textbooks and medical journals in unsure and halting efforts to be a father. It was a voice that, even when he’d failed to listen, he could never ignore.
Jack remembered how he used to think Sam was somehow taller than the other Samuels. It wasn’t true, of course, but Jack had felt the truth of it. Sam had always seemed large and imposing, and also safe. With his arms around Jack in the cave, Sam’s head had barely reached Jack’s shoulder, and the boy had felt Sam’s thin bones and narrow rib cage against his own.
Sam held him and whispered in his ear, Go, and followed that with another word, a word that flooded into Jack’s chest and sucked out all the oxygen.
Son, he’d said.
Son.
It was early evening. It’d been two days since the destruction of the Ark, two days since Sam was lost in a smoldering pile of rubble and ash. Two days since Jonah had disappeared, slipping away unnoticed by everyone in the ensuing chaos. Jack had found himself outside, a cool breeze on his face and Althea’s watchful eyes on him while the Tunnels caved in behind them, and he’d understood that two of the people he cared about most, regardless of what they’d done before, were gone. One he’d probably never see again, the other dead. He’d collapsed then, as completely as the walls of the Tunnels.
Now he was in a windowless room in the clinic, not a patient but a prisoner. He didn’t know where Althea was, didn’t know what was happening out in Vispera, and he’d exhausted any possibility of escape. When a clone came to bring food, five Viktors followed after, guarding the exit. None of them answered his questions or even spoke to him. The room was sealed tight, the lock unbreakable. He eventually broke down and slammed his fist into the door, which of course only resulted in bruised knuckles.
Jack crouched on his heels in the sterile room, all his energy focused on keeping still. He felt antsy, wanting to fidget and pace the floor. The clinic reminded him of the labs—cold and bleached, with speckled laminate floors and bright lights. But here he had no book to read or instrument to play. Once the futility of trying to escape was clear, there was no distraction but the frustration and worry gnawing at him. Images of the Binding Ceremony where they’d killed his mother flashed constantly through his mind, his mother’s screams replaced by Althea’s.
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