Daughter of Nothing

by Eric Kent Edstrom

  It wasn’t fair. None of it was. Not what had happened to Vaughan, not how she was being treated. Anger flashed through her veins like acid. She stood and shouted after Sensei.

  “And what about my punishment? I’m sure you’ll find many volunteers willing to deliver the blows.”

  Sensei did turn at that, eyes blazing, though his voice was soft. “Your sole concern at this moment is finding your Dolphin. If Dr. Carlhagen decides you must be punished, then you will be punished.”

  The man left the dining hall, leaving a wake of stunned faces behind him.

  Jacey looked out over the assembled Scions. Wanda had suddenly become very absorbed in her meal. Bethancy had turned to face away from Jacey, as did Summer, who used Humphrey’s technique of hiding her face with her hand. Jacey’s Nine did not want to go with her. For them, the only thing worse than having Jacey order them around was going in search of Livy, a Dolphin who wouldn’t throw away a stupid stuffed animal.

  Jacey knew she could demand their help. Sensei and Dr. Carlhagen would intercede if they rebelled outright. But where would that get her? She’d spend the rest of the year fighting with a Nine full of sullen girls.

  “Wanda, see that the Nine gets to class on time.” Not waiting to get an acknowledgement from her second, she left the hall, determined to find the Dolphin by herself.

  10

  Let Me out of Her

  Dr. Carlhagen rested his weight on his cane and looked down at Vaughan, who lay unconscious on a cot in the medical ward. A hideous, blue-black bruise covered half of Vaughan’s face, leaving his left eye swollen shut. More ice packs lined his left side, where Elias’s blows had cracked two ribs. The motors in the respirator next to the cot hummed, accompanied by the rhythmic hiss of the air that kept Vaughan alive.

  The rage Dr. Carlhagen had felt at the sentencing was gone, replaced by a startled calm. Choosing Elias, second only to Vaughan himself in his fighting skill, had been rash.

  Damn Humphrey!

  Dr. Carlhagen has assumed that Humphrey lacked the speed and power to do significant damage. It had been a perfect way to exact a measure of revenge against Charles, while allowing Humphrey to at least play at being an alpha.

  Dr. Carlhagen tapped his cane on the ground and chuckled softly to himself. Humphrey’s defiance shouldn’t have surprised him. The boy disappointed him at every turn.

  He checked Vaughan’s vital signs, noting his weak pulse and low brain activity. But it was an improvement. Dr. Carlhagen stepped closer to the respirator. All he needed to do was turn the power off. Tempted, he lifted his hand toward the switch.

  He snatched his hand back. No. He had to keep the boy alive. For now. See how things developed between Jacqueline and Humphrey.

  Not Jacqueline. Jacey.

  He shook his head, surprised at the mental slip.

  He’d wait to see how things developed between Jacey and Humphrey, not that he was optimistic. That Vaughan and Jacey had been caught together in the bell tower proved what he’d always feared. No amount of discipline could overcome the ineffable power of attraction between male and female.

  Perhaps he should have done something to delay the Scions’ puberty or to reduce libido. That would have spared him this crisis. But his primary objective was to prepare the Scions to receive transfers, and he just couldn’t risk meddling with the natural chemistry of their brains.

  The only other alternative had been segregation, to keep the boys and girls on separate campuses. It would have required more staff, more risk of discovery by the outside world. But now how he wished he had done it.

  Perhaps the Scions simply had too much freedom. Maybe every second of their days should be regimented. Maybe the Nines should be together at all times, walking single file from place to place such that the boys and girls never spoke to each other, never dined together, never passed so much as one hundred meters from each other.

  A difficult policy to enact after all these years, though. There had been no problems until the first class of Scions turned sixteen. That’s when Dante had started to go astray, lost the radio, and tried to swim around the fence line.

  Perhaps Dr. Carlhagen could move transfers up. The brain was sufficiently mature by age sixteen for the Scions to endure the transfer. It was the Progenitors he was concerned about, taking those old minds and shoving them into such a hormonal hurricane.

  Which got him thinking about Janicka. He crossed the hall into the room where she lay, drugged out of her mind and strapped down, hand and foot. He tweaked the setting on her drip, a wonderful drug with an extraordinarily short half-life, allowing him to turn her up or down at will.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “How are you feeling, Sarah—I mean, Janicka?”

  The girl’s eyes widened, pupils dilated. She thrashed against the restraints and screamed. He tweaked the drip slightly, and she quieted. Her lips trembled, and tears poured from her eyes. “Let me out of her. Let me out of her.”

  “There’s no one to be let out of, Janicka,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “You are you.”

  “No, I’m not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right.” Her eyes were wild, her voice frantic.

  “What doesn’t feel right?”

  “My hands. My feet. My body. My thoughts. Where’s Dante? I want to see Dante.”

  This was new. Dr. Carlhagen shined a small examination flashlight into her eyes. The pupils didn’t respond, but that was probably the drug.

  “Who’s Dante?” he asked.

  “You know who Dante is. Or have I gone crazy? He was a Shark with me. Tell me you know who I’m talking about.”

  Interesting.

  Janicka’s weak-willed and insubstantial persona had failed to assimilate the small remnants of Sarah in her brain.

  “Just rest, Janicka. You’ll be fine. It just takes some time.”

  “Please, Dr. Carlhagen. I want to go back to school. Don’t make me go out into the wasteland.” Janicka’s breath caught. “See? I don’t know what I’m talking about. What’s the wasteland?”

  “Just rest, Janicka,” Dr. Carlhagen said. He opened the flow on the drip and her eyes went glassy and her jaw slackened.

  This outcome surprised him almost as much as how well the other transfers had worked. He would have to get Michael working on this problem immediately.

  He checked his watch. He had to get back to the hacienda for a nap and a dose of andleprixen. He had big plans for tonight.

  11

  A Fuzzy Dolphin

  Two paths led from the campus, one going north and the other southeast. It didn’t matter which one Jacey took. Both paths eventually met at Isaac’s Beach, forming a seven-kilometer loop. Sensei often made the Scions run it, sometimes multiple laps.

  Jacey took the north path, winding among the low, scrubby trees. The gravel path offered the only reasonable passage through the untamed reaches of the island. Every other weed bore thorns, and the rocky areas not covered with scrub or waist-high grass were so jagged that the thorns were almost preferable.

  Jacey welcomed the fresh breeze and sunlight. And the rare bit of solitude. It gave her a chance to mull over everything that had happened.

  Her life had been stable and uneventful for the past eight years. Right up until the day before, when the school had woken up, filled with expectation about Birthday and the first class of graduates.

  Only to discover a lockdown in effect and the sound of the Jeep driving across the quad.

  That had been Dr. Carlhagen and the graduating Scions’ parents arriving.

  And then she’d been summoned to the hacienda where she’d been given the gown. . . .

  Jacey stopped herself. She’d drive herself crazy trying to figure it out.

  She rounded a turn in the path, and it widened to join up with the fence line.

  If she were Livy, she’d want to get back to Mother Tyeesha. Jacey glanced back at the hills behind her to the south. It was all uphill in that direction and headed more in
land. She reasoned that Livy would have taken the easier path downhill toward the sea rather than going uphill.

  The fence loomed to her left as she walked. It stood atop a meter-tall concrete barrier, the chain-link stretching another ten meters above that. Curls of razor wire clung to the top, stark against the blue sky. She kept well away from it, knowing that a charge of ten thousand volts waited to strike if she carelessly brushed the metal.

  She followed the path for several kilometers, a walk that would have been enjoyable if it hadn’t been for the missing Dolphin. A few lonesome clouds floated overhead, and the haze of a rain squall hung above the mound of Turtle Island to the northwest.

  The cooling touch of the easterly breeze cut off as Jacey descended into a fold in the hillside. The sun beat down on her exposed face and limbs, producing a sheen of perspiration on her skin. A heaviness hung over her, like the quiet days that sometimes preceded a tropical storm.

  “Dante,” she said to herself. It had begun with Dante’s scheme to let Vaughan listen in. But why had he done it?

  Because Dr. Carlhagen won’t tell us what’s coming.

  “Why not?” Jacey kicked at a stone. “What danger is there for us to know what’s in store for us?”

  The question had always bothered her, but she’d learned to brush it away. Dr. Carlhagen knows what’s best for us. That had been repeated so often, she’d simply accepted it.

  But he’d told them they were orphans. That their parents were dead. And that was simply not true.

  A lie is like a child’s loose tooth

  One must twist and pull

  And push through pain

  To extract what’s false and find the truth

  Socrates had recited that occasionally when students had made up excuses for why they’d fallen behind on their assignments.

  Dr. Carlhagen had lied.

  The gravel path cut right, parting ways with the fence. Jacey stopped and eyed the course of the fence line. There was no way Livy had followed it. Plunging down a nearly vertical drop, it swooped in a series of rises and falls, like the spine of some gigantic sea-serpent, before ending at the tip of a wave-smashed outcrop overlooking the sea.

  Jacey left the fence behind as the path descended through a tangle of brush and grass. It leveled and curved around the side of a hill. Scores of white butterflies fluttered around the bushes, and the hazy webs of shaddle spiders stretched between thornskipple branches. Jacey gave the webs a wide berth, wary of the shaddle spiders’ propensity to jump.

  Though their bite wasn’t deadly, nausea, dizziness, and memory loss were known side effects. And disfigurement. This was all according to Socrates. No one on campus had ever been bitten by one. He also said their bite was horrendously painful.

  Wind returned with sudden force as she rounded the hill. The scrub gave way to a carpet of low, green vines punctuated by the occasional melon shape of a Turk’s Head Cactus. But mostly it was bare, jagged rock. The path continued east, but Jacey followed a narrower, well-worn track heading north. It ended on Jacque Point, a thrust of rock ten meters above the foaming waves and blasted by easterly winds.

  The terminus of the fence line stood on a similar point four hundred meters to Jacey’s left, separated from Jacques Point by a rocky shoreline. Below her, to the right, stretched Isaac’s Beach, a long arc of white sand fringed with acacia trees.

  Jacey’s wayward Dolphin sat on the beach, her huddled form a tiny speck on the field of white. Jacey scrambled down a steep wash and onto a narrow band of stone that clinked with every step. The sound reached the girl, and she turned her head. But she didn’t run.

  The stone gave way to deep, white sand, and Jacey trudged to where the girl sat watching the waves. When Jacey finally came around to face the girl, she discovered neither exhaustion nor fear on her face. Instead, Livy lowered her eyebrows and thrust out her jaw in defiance. She tightened her hug on the stuffed animal. “I’m not burning him. And I’m not going back there.”

  “So you plan to live the rest of your life on this beach?” Jacey asked. “That will be interesting when the first hurricane hits.”

  They’d all experienced the summer storms. At the thought of it, the girl’s face fell. But the determination in her posture didn’t flag. “I’ll move inland when the storms come.”

  Jacey couldn’t help but admire Livy’s determination.

  She squatted, drawing eye level with the child. “You know it’s not practical to stay out here. And I don’t think you plan to. You’re looking for Mother Tyeesha, aren’t you?”

  A flash of hope crossed the girl’s face.

  Jacey had guessed right. And who wouldn’t want to be reunited with Mother Tyeesha? Jacey still missed the woman’s warm embrace and soft whispers of affection. But longing for something you absolutely cannot have is nothing more than self-inflicted pain. Jacey had let go of that wish long ago out of sheer self-preservation, perhaps the first such lesson Scions learned at the school.

  She felt very sorry for the girl. But since there was no way to spare Livy the pain, it seemed best to push her through it.

  “You saw the fence,” she said softly. “There is no way to get beyond it, not unless you want to swim through the roughest, most dangerous surf. I know one boy who nearly died trying. And if anyone could have done it, Dante could have.”

  “I’ll go over it,” Livy said.

  “Do you have wings? Or do you plan to climb it? Even if you survived the electric shock, the razor wire at the top would cut you to pieces.”

  Livy’s defiance melted bit by bit, until finally she slumped and hugged the dog tighter. Jacey put her hands on her hips and cast her voice low, putting all the authority she could into it. “You will come with me now. As Dr. Carlhagen said last night, ‘it is time to put away childish things.’” She took a step closer and held her hand out. “Come.”

  Livy stared at her hand, then lifted her eyes to meet Jacey’s. Livy’s small hands clutched the dog, one covered its eyes, as if trying to spare it the horror of her choice.

  “I . . . I can’t.”

  Jacey eased closer to the girl, wrapped her up in her arms and lifted her. She’d carry the child over her shoulder if she had to.

  Livy shrieked and kicked, her foot catching Jacey’s knee. They fell to the sand, girl wriggling and Jacey trying to blink sand out of her eyes.

  “I won’t burn him. I love him!”

  Jacey sighed and let Livy go.

  As soon as Livy was free, she ran away, hair flying in the wind behind her.

  Jacey’s mind replayed the girl’s words. “I love him.” It caught her off guard. And a new respect for Livy crept in. She wasn’t acting out of fear. She simply refused to do something she knew was wrong. A show of remarkable backbone for a nine-year-old.

  Livy had stopped a hundred meters down the beach. She stared back at Jacey, poised to run if Jacey gave chase.

  Jacey started forward, taking slow steps and holding her hands out in what she hoped was a non-threatening way. Livy backed away, but didn’t run.

  “I’m not going to take your dog.”

  “Why did you grab me?”

  “It was wrong,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  She took another slow step toward Livy. “I swear I won’t take your dog.”

  Livy stood still, but she was half turned, ready to sprint away.

  “I just want to talk to you.”

  Jacey tried to imagine what it would look like from Livy’s perspective—to see a seventeen-year-old girl approaching.

  Not scary, Jacey thought. Not at all. The sight was probably intriguing, though. What Dolphin wouldn’t be fascinated to see what seventeen looked like?

  The insight gave Jacey pause. Why did the Scions all hunger so much to see into the future?

  “I’m sorry, Livy,” she said again. Smiling, she sat on the sand, well short of where Livy stood.

  Jacey patted the sand next to her, inviting Livy to join.

  She had
to wait several minutes before Livy finally did. Jacey didn’t say anything for a long while. Instead she just sat with the girl and stared at the waves lapping onto the shore. She scooped up a handful of sand, then let the grains sift through her fingers. “What’s his name?” she asked, nodding to the stuffed dog.

  Livy seemed to drink Jacey in with her green eyes. Her blond curls fluttered in the wind. A few strays blew into her mouth. “Charlie.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “I’m not stupid. You’ll throw him in the fire.”

  Jacey raised her hand, palm out. “I promise not to throw him in the fire. I just want to look at him.”

  Livy glanced down at the little dog and then slowly held him out for Jacey to see. Jacey reached for it, but Livy snatched him back. “You said you wanted to see him.”

  “He looks soft. I want to feel him.”

  Livy hesitated, but after a moment, she held out the dog and let Jacey take him.

  She inspected the dog, checked its tail and ears and squeezed its body. “He looks healthy. You’ve taken good care of him.” She handed the dog back.

  “Did you have one when you came to the school?” Livy asked.

  “Yes. Mother Tyeesha gave one to everyone at Children’s Villa.”

  In an icy wave of insight, Jacey realized that Dr. Carlhagen had made sure they each had something they were attached to, just so he could make them burn it when they entered the gates of the Scion School.

  “What was he?” Livy asked.

  Jacey stared blankly at the girl.

  “Your animal. What was he?”

  “A dolphin. A fuzzy blue dolphin. I named him Jumper.” Despite the wetness in her eyes, she laughed. “That’s silly, isn’t it? A fuzzy dolphin. Can you imagine if all the dolphins under the water out there were swimming around with wet fur?”

  Livy giggled. “That is silly.”

  “I remember I lost him once, back at Children’s Villa. I cried for a week. Then I found him. Someone had stuffed him in a hollow stump behind Mother Tyeesha’s villa.” Jacey brushed the sand from her hands. “Then we got here and I had to throw him in the fire.”