Clone Secrets_Book 2 of the Clone Crisis Trilogy

by Melissa Faye

  I felt a lightness in my chest. Seeing all of this together was beautiful.

  “It’s a community,” Charlie said, pointing. “I mean, if we asked people at Young Woods to draw things they cared about, the pictures would probably be similar. We’re a community here.”

  “No, it’s a little different,” I said. “Look –“ I pointed at one of the pictures of two campers. “No insignias. There are colored bands around their TekCasts, but they don’t match. No one cares about that stuff here. Everyone just does the work they can do to help the camp.”

  “So would you say what’s best for the ACer camp is best for me?” Etta smirked. My face darkened. That was the UCA motto: What’s best for the community is best for me. Only what it really meant was Keeping Quiet and Following the Rules is Best for the Government.

  “I’m only teasing, Yami,” Etta said. “It’s different here. A different kind of community.”

  “It’s strange,” Charlie said. “I can do anything I want here. Today I wanted to better understand how they manage food resources around here, and no one minded the extra help in the garden. But if anyone asked for help elsewhere, I’d go help.” Charlie never ended up with a clear work assignment from Sven. It was probably for just the reason Charlie explained: he was happy working wherever he was needed.

  “Yesterday Breck was helping with maintenance and repairs,” Etta said. “I’ve never seen him do that before. I don’t even know how he knew what he was doing!”

  Etta 2 and Teo came to join us. Teo hugged Etta before plopping down on the bench next to her. He picked up the pile of drawings and flipped through them. Etta gave him some paper and pencils to draw his own.

  “Etta, what do you think is different between the camps and the communities?” Charlie asked Etta 2. She hadn’t opened up as much as Teo had, but she had still changed so much from her first day when she was scared and paranoid. Not that I had helped much with that.

  “Night and day,” said Etta 2. “The communities are supposed to feel like big families. A village raising children. But they’re not set up for us to work together like we do in the camps. If a Gray runs over his budget, you wouldn’t see anyone giving him money. The leaders don’t personally do anything to seek out community voice in important issues. It’s not a community at all.”

  “Look!” Teo said. He held up a paper where he’d drawn a picture of baby Hope lying in Etta’s arms. Each person was labeled so no one would be confused. His dreamcatcher hung in the background above their heads.

  “If you didn’t have a village to raise Teo, how did you raise him?” Etta asked. She looked Teo’s picture over more carefully. “Teo, that looks great! Did you learn to read and write from your mom?”

  “Yup,” he said. He had already reached for more paper to create more drawings. “And some of the campers helped me too.”

  “What else did you teach him?” Etta asked Etta 2.

  “Whatever I could,” Etta 2 said. Teo was uninterested again; he was working on a new drawing. It was a rough sketch of the kitchen area. “I know it’s not the education I had growing up, but it’s the best we could do. There’s a lot of information on the TekCasts that we worked through. And there were always people around who knew more than I did about certain topics. Everyone was happy to help.”

  “That’s kind of like a community then,” I said. “Raising children all together.”

  “Except that there’s choice,” Charlie said. “They didn’t have to help Etta and Teo. But they did.”

  “And what he learned didn’t depend on his career,” Etta said. “That’s how I want thing to be for Hope. I want her to learn everything there is to know, with access to all the information she wants.”

  “Look!” said Teo. He held up the kitchen drawing. “I can’t remember what goes over here. The fridge or the stove?” Charlie leaned over to get a closer look and point out more of the details.

  That was the other thing I kept thinking about since Etta 2 arrived. Breck was a great father to Etta. It was like mentoring, and Breck was always a good mentor, but it seemed much more serious. Like Etta, he watched Hope dutifully. He came to me with any medical questions. He worked with Sven to find the smallest clothes they had and cut and sewed them even smaller into baby clothes. Breck’s parenting made me wonder what Charlie would be like as a father.

  Charlie was probably Teo’s favorite person besides his mom and Etta. Teo did like Breck, but Breck was busier and had less time for him. Charlie gave Teo piggyback rides across the camp after dinner. He took Teo to see our friend Harvey, and the three of them played a rock throwing game Harvey’s friends invented. Charlie spoke to Teo like they were equals: he towered over Teo but knelt down to speak to him. He answered all of Teo’s questions, even when everyone else had long tired of the constant barrage. Charlie would be a great father. I just couldn’t stand that he’d never be one.

  TEO HELPED ETTA ORGANIZE an unveiling of the camp art gallery two days later at lunch. They hung the campers’ artwork around the dining tent and the meeting tent. They put up posters advertising the two galleries, but people still looked surprised when they walked into the dining hall for lunch.

  Faces lit up when they saw the display. The camp was a utilitarian living space; tents, rickety buildings, no resource wasted, everyone put to use. But the little art show was a celebration. I had never seen anyone in the camp do something so entertaining. Even when Hope was born, people were excited and came to visit the baby, but that was it. The art gallery celebrated the camp itself for what it was. Not just a place to live and get by, but a place with people to love and beauty to appreciate.

  I sat down next to Breck facing the display so it was always in my line of sight. I couldn’t help grinning when I saw it.

  “Where’s Charlie?” Breck asked. He and Etta were constantly sleep deprived and almost always too busy to talk. Still, they had some of the parenting routines down. Breck held Hope in one arm while she slept and he ate.

  I pointed toward the door. As soon as Charlie and I walked in together, Teo had grabbed Charlie’s arm and forced him to be the gallery docent. Charlie walked around in front of the pictures and herded people so they would walk across the wall to admire all the pieces one by one. People thanked Teo for his work, and he beamed.

  “Remember art class when we were little?” Breck asked.

  “Yeah. I used to love it. But when we reached high class, it felt like childish,” I said. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t part of my Gold course schedule anymore until I started working with Vonna and she showed me some of the stuff she made.”

  Breck rocked Hope gently in his arms and looked at the gallery display. “It’s not really childish, though,” he said. “There used to be famous artists. Painters and photographers.”

  “What would I do with a photographer if I can just take a picture off my phone?” Harvey appeared from the gallery area and sat next to Breck. He leaned over to peer at Hope, who was fast asleep. “What do I need more pictures for?”

  “I don’t know exactly. But people did it, and people looked at their work,” said Breck. The room was louder than usual. People seemed happier and somehow more playful, like Teo was rubbing off on all of us. I wondered if that’s what it would be like having a family unit. Being around kids, letting them do their own thing, helping them develop their interests. The community structure made sure kids were taken care of and had connections with older kids and adults, but there was so much more we could have done. Kids mostly played with other kids their age. I always saw them running around, but I rarely spoke to anyone younger than me besides Vonna.

  “I haven’t drawn anything since middle class,” Harvey said. “I made that one over there, the one with the tree where we play the rock game.” He pointed, then blushed as if embarrassed to be excited about it. “Teo asked me to make it. I can’t say no to that kid.”

  Etta finally came to join us. She took Hope out of Breck’s arms carefully so as not to wake her. “T
eo won’t stop to eat,” she said. “He’s getting a lot of attention and I think he’s basking in it. I don’t think he’s going to let Charlie eat either, Yami.”

  I smiled. Charlie was still at it, walking people across the gallery and talking about the artwork in a serious tone. He leaned over to listen to Teo, who whispered things in his ear. Charlie started talking more loudly, and reminded people to look at the other gallery in the meeting tent. I couldn’t help grinning. Charlie deserved to be a dad. Maybe there was some way he could make it happen. If there was really a fertility cure someday, I thought.

  Chapter 5 - Charlie

  Several weeks after Hope was born, Breck and I still didn’t know each other very well. I had helped him escape from the Med twice over the past few months, but his focus was always on Etta. Now he was busy all the time with Hope. But I liked most people, and Breck did too. It was easy for us to get along.

  “Maybe we can use your program to talk to more people about the fertility work we want to do,” Breck said. We were walking towards dinner. Yami had gone ahead with the Ettas and Teo once she realized Breck and I would be staying back to talk about the messaging program. Breck cradled Hope gently and she gripped his thumb. “If we can communicate with other ACer camps, they might have better lab equipment.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said. “Create a broader network within the Underground. Increase communications so we can share resources and help the groups who want to overthrow their leadership.”

  “Weapons would help,” said Breck. “Etta 2’s old camp had an armory. They can’t be the only communities with access to firearms.”

  “Well, sure, but –“

  Breck and I froze in place as a strange sound emanated from beyond the dining tent. It was dull and thumped repetitively. I looked at Breck; it was an ominous noise. My heart pounded against my chest. Yami was in the dining room. And Etta, Etta 2, and Teo.

  The sound grew louder. “Footsteps!” Breck murmured. They were footsteps, but they sounded strange, like they were walking in unison. It was like pictures and videos from history class – marching bands. Parades. Armies.

  I heard yelling and shouting coming from the same direction, and without a thought, I raced towards the source. Suddenly, men and women were crowded around the camp. They seemed to hone in on the dining tent, where most of the residents were, but a small portion spread out among the other areas as well. I didn’t get within fifty feet of the building before I felt someone punch me in the gut. I fell to the ground with a groan, gasping for air.

  The men and women were dressed in all gray. It was like the uniform the Gray sanitation workers back at Young Woods wore, only these were gray rather than brown or tan. Each person wore a type of insignia that I’d never seen before. They were black and silver. And each person was carrying a gun.

  I OFTEN THOUGHT BACK to the look on Abe’s face in the Gold building that day. He probably just came in as a joke, on a dare. I should have stood up for him when everyone else jeered. Maybe other people would have said something too, or gotten the guys who started it to shut up. Maybe it would have just been me. But I should have done something about it.

  When I realized what was going on with Etta back when she was first pregnant, I thought a lot about Abe. I didn’t take action then, but I should have.

  Yami wanted me to stay out of her way when she was protecting Breck and Etta, and I fought to be part of it. I was always trying to push her to let me in, let others help. I was glad to be at the camp with her; now I could finally make some kind of difference. This would be my second chance. I was on Yami’s team. I wasn’t going to stay silent any more.

  I ROLLED OVER ON THE ground onto my back, clutching my stomach before leaping onto my feet. I had only ever seen a picture of a gun in history class. They were illegal; even the security guards didn’t have them. There was no use for weapons in our peaceful communities. The shiny metal objects shined brightly under the setting sun. Who were these people? Why were they here? I needed to help whoever was inside that tent.

  I realized I was standing still, gaping at the army of gray uniforms, while others were fighting around me. There was a man pointing a gun at a young woman’s chest. She fell onto her knees bawling with her hands in the air. He shouted something at her that I couldn’t hear. I saw Sven run out of the tent towards one of the gray soldiers. He took the guy by surprise, jumping and tackling him down. They wrestled for the man’s gun. A gunshot went off, but I couldn’t see where.

  I ran towards the tent where the screams were loudest. “Yami!” I called as I shoved past two people in uniforms. “Yami! Etta!”

  Someone with a gun used his hand to push against me until I was backed up against the rickety walls of the dining tent. This was one of the nicer buildings in the camp, but it was still falling apart. I looked down at my chest, where the man’s gun pushed into my rib cage. I felt a boiling heat in my stomach as I met his eyes. I didn’t know who he was. He could have been anyone from Young Woods, or anywhere else. He wasn’t much older than me.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted. I kept catching glimmers of those metal guns pass my eyes and heard loud bangs pierce the air. Someone knocked Matana to the ground with the butt of a gun to her head; Matana crumpled on the floor and didn’t move. I started to step towards her.

  “Don’t move!” the man growled at me. I looked at his gun again. The man’s hand was shaking, but he didn’t release me. My pulse raced. I took my right arm and swung it down onto the gun, pulling it out of the man’s hand. It skittered across the floor and we both leapt for it. I kicked it farther away as he reached his hand out, kicked towards his face to slow him down, then beat him to the gun. I picked it up and pointed it right at the man’s face. He lay on the ground with his hands held in front of him, panting.

  “Get out!” I yelled. The gun was heavier than I expected, and I wasn’t sure how to hold it. I clutched it tightly, afraid someone else would take it from me. The man looked up with wide, bloodshot eyes. As if I was a murderer.

  “Why are you here?” I shouted. “Who are you?”

  The man said nothing.

  “Who sent you? We’re not your enemy!”

  No reply.

  I looked around again. I jumped out of the way as a man and woman somersaulted past me. They were in their own scuffle trying to get a grip on another gun. The woman’s face was bright red and her mouth stretched into a grimace with a clenched jaw. When I turned back, the man whose gun I held had disappeared into the crowd.

  I finally saw Yami across the room and shouted her name just as someone punched her hard across the face. Her hands were up but she couldn’t deflect his blow. Her head snapped to the side; she fell over and rolled under a table. I couldn’t see her anymore.

  The remains of the art show were scattered across the ground. I saw a picture of baby Hope stomped on by someone’s boot. Pieces of everyone’s drawings flew in every direction as I watched. They were ripped and stepped on. A small piece was stuck to my pants, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

  Etta 2 stood in place screaming. “Teo! What are you doing with Teo!” I followed her gaze to two women in gray uniforms holding Teo between them. He kicked and screamed, but they were bigger and stronger than him. Someone from the camp sprung from behind the two women, catching them off guard. They fell to the ground, but didn’t release their grip. They tussled with the man from the camp, who wouldn’t give up until one of the women drew a gun. Except she didn’t point it at the man.

  “Back up or I’ll shoot him!” the woman screamed. Her eyes were wide and her tone was desperate. She had the gun pointed directly at Teo’s face. He was stuck in place with two women holding him tightly, one with her gun cocked. He began crying uncontrollably.

  “Please, please let him go,” Etta 2 said. She was quieter this time. I approached slowly from behind the two women. “He’s just a kid. Take me instead. Ok? Can I go with you? Leave him?”

  “Is this your son?” the s
econd woman asked. “Did you give birth to this child?” She said something else that I couldn’t hear over the shouts and bangs.

  “No – No of course not!” Etta 2 cried. “He’s just a boy, I never...”

  “Don’t lie!” the woman screeched. “These children aren’t safe here! You shouldn’t –“ More loud bangs.

  I inched closer towards the two women and Teo. If I could get behind them with the gun, I could knock one of them down and threaten the other with my own weapon. I knelt down and crept closer.

  “Watch out!” one of the gray men yelled. I turned to see him catapult towards me, crouching down with bent knees to push me to the ground. The gun dropped and fell to the side, just out of my reach, while this man, who was much taller and heavier than me, knelt over my chest. He punched me in the face and I lost track of where the gun went.

  It was my first fist fight. Real fights were rare at Young Woods. Sometimes kids fooled around, wrestling each other for fun. There was some scratching and slapping, especially in middle class, but it phased out quickly each year. I occasionally wrestled other kids when I was younger, but I had never been punched in the face. This punch went through me like a bolt of energy. I felt adrenaline surge through my system and tasted something metallic in my mouth. Before I could raise my hands to fight back, the man landed a second blow. I heard a sickening crack and felt blood seep from my nose. I lay still on the ground, my head twisted to the side, and prayed he would give up. I couldn’t catch my breath. Stars flew through the air above me.

  And suddenly, the fighting stopped. There were more screams and yells, but most of the sound was directed at the retreating army. People ran past me to chase after the attackers. I clenched my aching jaw and made myself sit up. I spit blood onto the floor next to me and watched it mix in with the dirt, grime, and boot marks. People were still running, so I stood up too. I wavered on my feet but followed. I stumbled out of the tent.