Inheritance a-2

by Malinda Lo

  “I’m looking for Andrew Vargas,” he said, gesturing to the ID. “Where did you get that, anyway?”

  “I found it in Mr. Hernandez’s briefcase.”

  “You ‘found’ it?”

  She smiled. “Yep. Found it.”

  He laughed. “Okay, well, look what I found.” He turned the laptop around to face her and she joined him, kneeling on the floor beside the beanbag. “Andrew Vargas was on President Randall’s reelection committee until June of this year. Looks like he left right after the June Disaster.”

  She scanned the website he had found; it was a post from an anti-Randall political blog. “Do you trust this source?”

  “I can do some more digging with my contacts at Bin 42. I know some guys who work in DC. I’m going to ask about CASS too. But this post combined with the White House temporary ID and even that cleaning bill—I think Vargas-slash-Hernandez was working for Randall.”

  “On his own or as part of CASS?”

  “He had to be part of CASS when he was working for Randall, don’t you think? There would be too many coincidences, otherwise. Besides, I don’t think they’d assign him to handle a major situation like the one you and David are in if he was a new recruit. He’s probably been around for a while. They have to trust him with you two.” Julian scrolled down the page. “The real question, though, is whether Randall knew about Vargas’s connection to CASS when he was working for her reelection campaign.”

  She sat on the floor, crossing her legs. “Because if the president knew…” She raised her gaze to Julian’s. “You think that CASS was behind her reelection campaign?”

  “Maybe not behind, but part of?”

  “I got the impression from Lovick that CASS was sort of independent of presidential administrations.”

  “Then why would one of their lackeys be working for the Randall Administration?”

  She looked down at the black-and-white photo of Mr. Hernandez as Andrew Vargas. “Maybe… maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe the Randall Administration is working for CASS.” She thought about the document from the avian lab she and David had stolen from Blue Base. Blue Base—under the orders of CASS—had been genetically experimenting on birds. Those birds had been the cause of the June Disaster. “What if President Randall is involved with CASS and their projects with the Imrian DNA? Didn’t she come out of the military?”

  “Yeah, that was the big thing about her campaign,” Julian said. “First female veteran to run for president, blah blah, all the brass loved her.” He seemed to struggle to contain his excitement. “Whoa. You think maybe Randall was involved even before she ran for office? Like, maybe CASS and Blue Base or whatever picked her to run because they knew they could get her elected, and then they’d have their figurehead as commander in chief?”

  Reese paled. “Jeez. Maybe? But even if she wasn’t working for them before, she had to have known something about the birds, don’t you think? She’s the president. And she gave all those speeches at the beginning of the June Disaster. She visited those bird disposal facilities. She was like, ‘We are figuring things out, trust me.’ But what if she was lying the whole time?”

  “We have to do more investigating,” Julian said. “Talk to more people. You have to talk to the Imria and find out if they know anything about it. All we know for sure about the June Disaster is from that piece of paper you and David lifted from that lab, and we don’t have that anymore. Yeah, Blue Base was genetically modifying birds, but the question is why. It’s all related somehow. This thing with Mr. Hernandez isn’t enough. We need more.”

  She folded the ID and put it back in her pocket. “I know. I agree.” She stood. “Let me talk to David. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Okay.”

  “I better get back downstairs. My dad’s gonna freak out if I leave him alone with your mom for too long.”

  Julian scrambled to his feet. “All right. And hey, I’m glad we talked.”

  She paused halfway to the door. “Me too.”

  He came over to her and pulled her into a hug. “I’m serious, you dork. I don’t like fighting with you.”

  Startled, she quickly withdrew into herself as Eres had taught her so that she couldn’t sense Julian’s emotions. She wouldn’t invade his privacy now that she could avoid it; she owed him that much. He was tall and wiry and strong, and all she could feel was his arms around her. It felt good: normal. “Me either,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

  All of a sudden she realized the significance of what Amber had done. She had lied about a lot of things, but she had never pushed herself into Reese’s consciousness, never taken advantage of her untrained mental state. She had always respected Reese’s personal boundaries. Reese had never understood that until now.

  CHAPTER 21

  On Saturday during the ferry trip to Angel Island, Reese kept remembering what Julian had said about Amber. She’s been avoiding you. Reese didn’t see any sign of Amber during the drive to the ship, or while Nura Halba escorted them through the steel corridors to Eres Tilhar’s room. As the lesson began, she tried to forget about her in order to concentrate, but she couldn’t entirely erase Amber from her mind. She knew Amber must be nearby, and her unseen presence was like a phantom in the room. Reese was aware that Eres might be able to sense it in her; she only hoped the teacher wouldn’t mention it out loud.

  “Last time you learned how to center your attention on yourself so that you are anchored in place,” Eres said. “Today you will learn how to maintain your position in your mental map while you connect with someone else.”

  “I have a question,” Reese said, interrupting Eres in an effort to distract herself.

  David shifted nearby. What are you going to ask? he thought.

  We do have to get info for Hernandez, she reminded him.

  “What is it?” Eres asked.

  “With humans who aren’t adapted,” Reese said, “I know they can’t do susum’urda, but we can still sense their emotions, right? When we touch them, I mean.”

  Eres regarded the two of them with an expressionless face that nonetheless made Reese feel like she had spoken out of turn during class. After a long moment of silence, Eres said, “Yes, you are able to sense human emotions when you touch them. I believe you’ve both already experienced this.”

  “Yeah,” David said. “With my parents.”

  “I felt it with mine too,” Reese said.

  Eres adjusted the sleeves of the gray robe as if buying time. “It is true that humans are vulnerable to our abilities,” the teacher finally said. “That is why we must refrain from reading their feelings without their permission.”

  They seem to want us to refrain from a lot of things, David noted silently.

  Reese bit her lip to hide her smile. “So you’re saying we could do it, but we shouldn’t?”

  The walls of the triangular room shimmered from blue to green. “Yes,” Eres said. “It isn’t ethical to access someone’s consciousness without their permission.”

  “I get that,” David said. “But are you telling me that you guys have never done that? If you’re so interested in finding out about humans, wouldn’t you do it?”

  Eres’s lips pressed together for a moment. “It is tempting to use our abilities to understand your people, but it is wrong for us to take those liberties with people who cannot resist.”

  That doesn’t mean they’ve never done it, Reese thought.

  “I see that you both doubt me,” Eres said. “Perhaps that’s because humans have a looser understanding of ethical behavior than we do.”

  “That’s not fair,” Reese said immediately.

  “Am I incorrect?”

  “You can’t say that all humans do one thing or another,” Reese said. “We’re different. Some people are more ethical than others.”

  Eres nodded. “Exactly. We Imrians are not like your people in this matter. We understand it would always be wrong to cross those lines. There are very few e
xceptions. Parents teaching their young children, or when trying to help someone in pain, but that’s all.”

  “But you’re fine with lying,” Reese said, more harshly than she had intended.

  Eres seemed surprised. “Lying? I think you mean with words, as I have told you that it is impossible for us to lie during susum’urda. Words are superficial. They are meaningless when it comes to true connection.”

  “We humans only have words,” Reese said. “Why do you think they’re important to us?”

  Eres’s surprise seemed to deepen. “I see that I have upset you both. I apologize. I may not understand your people as well as I should. That is another reason it is important for us to have these lessons; you can teach me as well. Shall we begin again?”

  Reese and David traded brief glances. Well, we have our information, Reese thought. And I bet Hernandez is gonna love it.

  “Okay,” David said aloud.

  “We will review first,” Eres said. “I’d like to make sure you’re both centered in your own consciousness before we try anything else today.” Eres started with Reese this time, taking her hand and asking her to focus on herself, shutting off access to the teacher’s mental space. After Eres was satisfied, the teacher turned to David and worked with him for several minutes. Reese tucked her hands beneath her thighs and tried not to stare as David’s face went slack, his lips parting slightly as Eres asked him to do the same thing Reese had done.

  After they were finished, Eres sat back and looked at the two of them. “You have quite a lot of emotion inside you. It’s extraordinary. You’re both so different from an Imrian child. Your emotions are so unordered. It will take some practice for you to learn how to present a more ordered consciousness.”

  “How are we supposed to order our feelings?” David asked. “Don’t they just exist, however they are? You can’t control them.”

  “It’s true that feelings are uncontrollable,” Eres said, “but emotions are not. Emotions are your brain’s way of making sense of feelings.”

  Reese was confused. “What?”

  “Feelings are the physical reactions your body has to something,” Eres explained. “Perhaps English isn’t the best language with which to explain this, but think of it this way: Feelings are physical sensations, like hunger or pain or pleasure. These feelings happen regardless of what you think of them. Emotions are the narrative your mind creates about those feelings. So if you burn your hand, you’ll feel pain, but emotionally, you could be angry or embarrassed, depending on the situation. Does that make more sense?”

  “I guess, yeah,” Reese said.

  “I think so,” David said.

  “Good. You both need to learn how to be conscious of your emotions so that you can present them in a more ordered manner to your partner—the person with whom you practice susum’urda. Let me show you what an ordered consciousness looks like. Reese, I’ll begin with you.”

  Reese took Eres’s hand again and was instantly pulled into the teacher’s sphere of consciousness. Every time this happened, Reese found the transition a little easier, but it was still like having the world develop an entirely new dimension. Eres’s physical form receded, becoming less relevant, while the teacher’s conscious self took on a strong, solid shape. Eres didn’t look like a person anymore; the ummi had no limbs and no head, but instead was a mass of energy clearly imprinted with a recognizable identity, as deeply rooted as a tree. Eres was beautiful, but this beauty had nothing to do with physical appearance. Eres’s consciousness was warmth and compassion, and Reese felt her own body inhale in relief as she experienced this connection.

  Now you will see your own conscious self, Eres told her. It was as if the teacher had turned her around mentally, and now Reese was looking into a mirror. In comparison to Eres, Reese was a mess. Her consciousness took the form of a nebulous, sparking fog, loose tendrils flying everywhere the way her hair whipped in the wind. Eres began to pull at it, trying to show Reese how to shape it into some sort of order, but the closer Eres got to various emotions, the more anxious Reese became. She didn’t want Eres to find out about Hernandez and CASS. She definitely didn’t want Eres to sense her mixed-up feelings about Amber. Reese’s anxiety made the shape of her consciousness morph, the sparks flying off more rapidly until she was a buzzing mass of tension.

  What are you afraid of? Eres asked her. You must let me show you how to do this.

  Sweat broke out on Reese’s skin, and she shook her head, but the teacher’s hand still held hers tight, not letting her back out. I can’t, Reese thought.

  You must, Eres told her. You must know yourself before you do susum’urda with anyone. Otherwise they will not be able to truly connect with you. They will only see your confusion.

  What if I don’t want to do this with anyone? I’m fine the way I am.

  If you were fine, you would not be so disordered. Your fear is understandable because this is so new to you, but I will not harm you. You must be open with me so that I can teach you. You need not be open with anyone else yet.

  The real world swam before Reese as she blinked her eyes open. Eres was still sitting across from her, regarding her steadily, but it was too confusing to see with her physical eyes while also touching the teacher. Reese closed her eyes again. She tried to relax, to let Eres access the knot of emotions inside her, but as Eres began to lay those emotions out one after the other—anguish, longing, a bitter wash of guilt—Reese pulled her hand free, heart pounding.

  “I can’t,” she said out loud, her eyes wild.

  “Are you okay?” David asked. He reached for her, but she shook her head and his hand hung in the air for a second, motionless, before he pulled it back. His face reddened slightly.

  “I’m sorry,” Reese choked out. “I can’t do this today. I’m not ready.”

  Eres sat back, the folds of the teacher’s robes falling to the floor in pearlescent ripples. “I’m sorry to have pushed you. It may take longer for you to adjust to this ability. I’ll work with David for the remainder of our lesson. Would you like something to drink? Water?”

  Reese shook her head, feeling as if she had narrowly escaped from a trap. She sat in silence, legs and arms crossed defensively, as Eres took David’s hand and began the process with him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him twitch from time to time, his breath accelerating and then calming. Reese dropped her gaze to the floor so that she couldn’t see him anymore. She was embarrassed and disappointed in herself, and she wished there were some way she could make the time pass faster. Now that Eres had shown Reese the shape of her own consciousness, she was hyperaware of the chaotic nature of her thoughts. She bent over, clutching her head in her hands, and willed herself to breathe more slowly. Inhale, exhale. She heard David shift in his seat. She heard her own heartbeat. She gazed down at the floor, noticing every tiny, precise groove in the matte black material. There was a pattern in the floor that she had never seen before, like some kind of maze.

  Finally David and Eres broke apart, and David whispered, “That was crazy.”

  Reese sat up. David’s eyes seemed haunted as he looked at her. “You’re all right?” Reese asked.

  “Yeah.” But I know why you stopped. That was intense.

  Eres stood. The lesson was over. “It may take several weeks or months for you both to fully adjust to your abilities, especially since you’re coming to this much later than an Imrian child would.” Reese moved toward the door, but Eres said, “Reese, may I speak with you?”

  Reese paused. “Sure.”

  “David, will you wait in the corridor? It will only be a moment.” After he left, Eres closed the door behind him.

  “What is it?” Reese asked nervously.

  “I believe that you have been trying to hide some things from me,” Eres said gently.

  Reese crossed her arms. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “I know. But it serves no purpose for you to hide your emotions from yourself.”

  Reese’s first insti
nct was to deny it, to say, I’m not hiding anything. The words caught in her throat as she saw Eres watching her. Reese said nothing.

  Eres nodded. “You must face it. I should also tell you that I know that you and David are sharing these lessons with your teacher, the one who is a spy. And I know that you and David have abilities that differ from what we Imria have.”

  Reese went pale. “You know?”

  “You cannot hide these things from me.”

  “Are you going to tell?”

  Eres looked disappointed. “Everything I learn from you is learned in confidence. You must understand that. David has not tried to hide these things from me. Only you have.”

  Reese colored. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You and David must decide when you’d like to discuss these things openly. I suggest that you decide soon.”

  Eres walked over to the door and opened it. David was standing on the other side, his back to the room. He spun around as the door slid open, his dark eyes seeking out Reese’s face. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she exited the room.

  “I will see you both next week,” said Eres. “And, Reese, think about what I told you.”

  *

  Eres knows about Mr. Hernandez, Reese thought to David as they drove back to the ferry.

  Is that what Eres was talking to you about? David asked. They were sitting in the backseat of the SUV while Reese’s mom made small talk with Nura Halba in the front.

  Yes. Eres also knows that we have different abilities, but I don’t think she knows exactly what they are.

  Eres said our lessons are confidential. Do you think she’ll tell the other Imria?

  She said she wouldn’t.

  The SUV turned down the road that circled the harbor, and Reese’s mom twisted in her seat to look at them. “David, your parents know you’re going to the Arenses’ with us, right?”

  “Yeah. They’ll pick me up from there later.”

  Reese and David were getting together with Julian under the pretense of working on a physics lab, but they were actually planning to record interviews for Bin 42. Reese had told David about Julian’s secret investigations earlier in the week. She had thought up a whole speech to persuade David to do the interview, but he had agreed almost immediately.