by Krista McGee
The look in Loudin’s eyes makes my blood freeze. He walks to Kristie and holds a strand of curly brown hair between his fingers.
“No,” Loudin says quietly. “No good comes from loving a woman. It is a weakness that must be destroyed.”
Kristie’s eyes widen. “You were not always so cruel.”
“No.” Loudin releases her hair. “But the man you knew—the man you pretended to love—he died long ago.”
“I did not pretend.” A tear falls down Kristie’s cheek.
“Yes, you did!” Loudin shouts so loudly that I jump. “You pretended to love me, and then you gave that love to Carey. And you plotted with him and the others to leave. You abandoned our dreams. You abandoned me.”
“You changed.” Kristie fights to remove herself from the Monitors’ grip, but they refuse. “What you were doing to those babies . . . I couldn’t . . . we couldn’t . . .”
“Weak,” Loudin shouts. “You were weak, and you wanted to make me weak. But I would not let you then and I will not let you now.”
Loudin pulls the weapon out of his pocket, taps something into the control panel at its side, and then points it at Kristie.
“No!” I lunge toward Loudin, but half a dozen Monitors rush in to stop me and the others who are also moving forward. We are all shouting—Rhen, Alex, Berk, Dallas.
“Enough.” Loudin raises the weapon in the air and we are silent.
“This is the power a loved one has over others.” Loudin’s gaze pauses on each one of us. “Chaotic, yes, but necessary in a world where emotion reigns. You would do anything to save her, wouldn’t you?”
We all nod, pretense gone in the face of pure terror.
Loudin pauses in front of Alex. “This is what your father knew. A threat against a loved one is far more powerful than a personal threat.”
I look toward Kristie. Loudin will keep her alive. To keep us submissive. And he is right—we will do whatever he asks in order to see she is safe.
“And that is why I brought all of you here.” Loudin smiles to himself. “I saw your gathering last night. Holding hands and praying to your imaginary god, talking of forgiveness and kindness. It was quite interesting, really. Like the old television shows—‘reality TV’ they were called. People watching other people. We learn from that, you know.”
I can barely swallow down the bile rising up into my throat.
“I have learned all of you love each other.” Loudin says the word love like it is a disease. “You have not yet learned what I learned—that love is destructive. It holds you back. It creates weakness. I will not be weak. But I will use your weakness to my advantage.”
Loudin points the weapon toward Kristie. I kick at the Monitor holding me, but he is strong, and his grip only gets tighter.
Loudin motions for the Monitor holding Alex to step forward. “I will not make the mistake your father made. I will not allow any of you to be a Peter. But I will follow his example in protecting myself.”
Loudin presses a button on the weapon and a bolt of blue light rushes out and pierces Kristie’s chest. Shaking violently, she falls to the ground, then curls up on her side. The light from the weapon is gone as quickly as it came. The setting was different from what he used on me. It was quick and deadly. Kristie rolls onto her back and tries to take a breath.
Everything around me seems to slow down. I see the Monitors moving away, Loudin stepping back. I walk toward Kristie, but it is like I am walking in deep water, so slowly, my ears filled with a rushing sound, my lungs struggling to take in enough oxygen.
I crawl to her side, lift her head onto my lap. Her face is so pale, her pupils dilated. Dallas kneels beside me, his hand holding Kristie’s, his tears falling on her white shirt.
“My children.” Kristie’s voice is soft, labored. “I am so proud of you.”
I shake my head, my eyes and throat burning. This cannot be happening.
“John taught me well.” Kristie smiles. “I will see you again.”
“No.” I push her hair from her face. “You’ll be fine.”
“Tell Carey I love him.” A tear forms in her eye, and I reach up to wipe it away.
Loudin stands over Kristie, his face hard.
She looks up at the man who is responsible for her death. “Remember who you once were. You can be that man again.”
Loudin spins on his heel and leaves the room.
Kristie’s eyes focus on something above us—far above us. She smiles, closes her eyes, and she is gone.
CHAPTER 24
Dallas runs from the room, Rhen following him. I cannot leave the spot where I am sitting, Kristie’s head on my lap. I place my fingers on her neck, praying, hoping she isn’t really dead. That she is just unconscious. But seconds pass, a minute, and I feel nothing but her cooling skin.
“Thalli.” Berk is behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist.
I lean back into him, but I do not feel comforted. I feel empty. Like part of my heart has been ripped out. How can this have happened? My mother, killed by my father. Parents I didn’t even know I had until days ago.
I had dreams of sitting with Kristie, sharing with her my hopes and dreams, telling her more about my childhood, learning about hers—her life with Carey in New Hope. The children they had together. I wanted memories with her, years with her. I look at her face, trying to memorize every part of it. Her black eyelashes, curling at the ends, her skin, shades darker than mine, marked with lines around her eyes and lips—lines etched from years of laughter and joy. I want to see her smile again, to see her eyes, hear her voice.
I turn my head into Berk’s chest and cry, my sobs echoing throughout the room, shaking my body, soaking Berk’s shirt. I hear the door to the laboratory open and shut, but I do not look to see who is here. I do not care. I cannot feel anything but grief.
I mourned when John died. I still miss him, his wisdom and love, his warm smile, his laugh. But he was so old and longed so much to go to the Designer. But Kristie is not as old as John. And she was not ready to go. She has children and grandchildren to love, a husband. She has a village full of people who love her and need her. Fresh tears fill my eyes. I can’t bear to tell Carey and Nicole and the others that Kristie is dead.
Berk’s arms tighten around me, his head rests on mine. He doesn’t speak, and for that I am thankful. No words could comfort me now.
I do not know how long I stay there, on the ground. But eventually my tears dry. Berk releases me and helps me stand. Alex is in a chair against the wall, his head in his hands. Dallas is not here, nor is Rhen. But Dr. Turner is here. He stands by the door, his eyes red. Has he been crying too?
“I am so sorry, Thalli.” James walks toward Berk and me. “I did not know what Loudin was planning. I would have never imagined he would do . . . this.”
“We have to take her before Loudin does.” I look back at Kristie. “I will not allow him to touch her.”
“He will want to examine her before she is cremated,” James says.
“No.” I stand between Kristie and the door. “I will kill him myself before that happens.”
The door opens and Rhen enters, followed by Dallas. His gaze goes to Kristie and a sob erupts. He turns away and slams his hand into a metal table.
“We need to take her to the cremation chamber,” Berk says softly.
“Cremation?” Dallas turns around. “No. We bury our dead. We don’t burn them.”
“We cannot bury them here.” Berk walks to Dallas. “The ground is too shallow.”
“And Loudin would dig her up even if we tried.” I hold my arms against my stomach in an attempt to soothe the pain there. “We need to cremate her now, so he cannot touch her. Ever.”
Dallas looks from me to Kristie. The muscles in his jaw flex and the look in his eyes is fierce. “Fine.”
Berk moves toward Kristie’s body, but Dallas stops him. “I’ll carry her. Just show me the way.”
Dallas bends down and lifts Kristie into hi
s arms. Her head falls to the side, and he cradles it with his elbow. Alex stands from his chair and opens the door. Berk leads the way, then Dallas follows with James, Rhen, and me behind him. None of us speaks as we go down the hall, into the elevator, up to the top floor, and through a hallway that leads to a locked door. Berk looks to James, who steps forward and places a finger on the panel beside the door. I hear a click and we enter.
The room is hot, and there is a white cylinder in the center. The cylinder is taller than Berk and just as wide, and a wide tube—almost two feet in diameter—extends from the top of it into the ceiling. This is where my podmates were taken. Every one of them annihilated and then cremated, their remains passing through that tube into the air above.
“I can’t put her in there.” Tears stream down Dallas’s face and onto Kristie’s cheek. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“She was a beautiful woman.” Rhen places her hand on his shoulder. “In every way. She helped me overcome the conditioning I was given by the Scientists. She told me I could be more than just what Loudin told me I was. More than just logical. She showed me the beauty of emotions. She told me her story, how she and your grandfather left the State and came to New Hope because they didn’t want to help Loudin accomplish his goals. She was a woman of great strength and character.”
Dallas nods.
“She risked her life to escape from Loudin,” Rhen continues. “I am confident she would want us to do this—to cremate her body—so Loudin cannot benefit any further from her death.”
“I can’t . . .” Dallas pulls Kristie closer to him.
“She is gone.” Rhen rubs Dallas’s back. “Even if we could bury her, her body would eventually return to dust. But her memory will stay with us forever. The lessons she has taught us, the life she lived, that will never die. And we know we will see her again. She is with John, with Jesus, whole and happy, in a new body that will never die.”
The struggle wages on Dallas’s face, and I understand. Rhen is right—logical—but the emotion of placing someone you love into the ground seems much less painful than placing that same person into flames. I recall seeing Helen burning in Athens, the sounds and the smell. It was terrible.
But allowing Loudin to have access to Kristie—to open her up and study her as he would a rat? We cannot permit that.
Dallas knows this too. After several minutes, he nods, and James presses a panel on the side of the chamber. A sound like a tuba playing an eighth note fills the room. It is followed by such a rise in temperature I begin sweating immediately.
“We should pray.” I think of the service we had at the church after John died. We read from the Designer’s book, shared stories of John’s life, and we prayed together. We may not be able to bury Kristie the way we buried John, but we can celebrate her life in the same way. She deserves that.
We gather around Dallas and Kristie and close our eyes. I pray, then Berk and Rhen. Dallas cannot speak, but I have my hand on his shoulder and I can feel his muscles relaxing. When we finish, Dallas looks toward the cremation chamber and nods. James presses the panel again and the room is silent.
The chamber hums and a narrow shelf comes out of it. The shelf is rounded on the sides and is just wide enough for a body to be placed on it. Dallas lowers Kristie onto the shelf. He straightens her shirt and places her arms across her chest. He leans down and kisses her cheek, smoothing her hair from her face.
“I love you.” Dallas wipes tears from his eyes and steps back.
James presses the panel again, and the section of the chamber just above the shelf opens. The flames are so hot I can barely breathe. They are so bright I am momentarily blinded. When my eyes adjust, I see Kristie being pulled into the chamber, the flames hiding her body, the smell just as I remembered from Athens. Sickening. Terrible.
The chamber closes and the shelf disappears.
Kristie—my mother—is gone.
CHAPTER 25
The door opens and Dr. Loudin steps in.
“Too late,” I say.
Loudin’s smile is thin. “Don’t be so smug. I knew you were here—I watched the entire episode from my communications pad.”
I wipe beads of sweat from my forehead. “You are lying.”
Loudin turns his communications pad toward me and presses its screen. I see the six of us praying together over Kristie’s body. I push the screen away. My chest feels heavy, like I cannot breathe. To think that, as we said our good-byes to this amazing woman, Loudin was watching, waiting, right outside the door, is revolting.
“You think me so cruel.” Loudin drops the pad into his pocket. “But I chose not to interrupt this little gathering. I allowed you to cremate her. I admit, the possibility of examining her would have been interesting. I’d like to know the effects of living above on the organs and the blood, especially the brain. But I will, no doubt, have plenty of other opportunities to make those observations. So you were permitted to say your good-byes.”
I take three steps to Loudin and push him as hard as I can, keep pushing him until he loses his balance and falls to the floor. Monitors enter, but not before I have the satisfaction of seeing pain on his face.
Berk pulls me back, away from Loudin. I am shaking. I have never felt this much emotion. I have never wanted to hurt someone the way I want to hurt Loudin.
“James.” Loudin wipes dust from his shirt. “You are dangerously close to following Kristie. Do not allow misplaced emotions over your father to prevent you from accomplishing our goals.”
James says nothing. He walks past Loudin, out of the room.
“Alex, we need to make a trip to Athens so we can recover the formula for the pharmaceuticals your father used.” Loudin motions for a Monitor to bring Alex to him.
“Never.” Alex shakes off the Monitor’s hand.
“Did this”—Loudin motions to the cremation chamber—“teach you nothing? Do I really need to kill someone else for you to do what I ask?”
I turn to Alex. “It would be better for all of us to die than for him to get what he wants.”
Loudin grabs me, his hands around my neck. Monitors move into the room to subdue the others. “You first, then.”
“Fine.” I can barely get the word out, Loudin’s hands are tightening on my neck.
“No.” There is an apology in Alex’s eyes. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll go.”
Loudin releases me.
“Don’t do this, Alex. He’ll use those drugs on your people and on all the other colonies. We can’t give him that much power.”
“Too late.” Loudin walks to the door. “I already have it. Did you hear nothing I said in my laboratory? You cannot stop me. You cannot defeat me. I am, however, still willing to permit you to join me.”
I say nothing. He may be determined, but I have that same determination and something more—I have heart. Kristie gave that to me. Loudin leaves with Alex behind him, flanked by two Monitors. Berk, Rhen, Dallas, and I remain.
“Can we get on that aircraft?” I look to the door. “Or follow them on another one? If we can get to New Hope, we can stop him.”
Berk puts a finger to his lips and points to the wall with his other hand. Then he steps beside me, his lips at my ear. “I will disable the cameras after Loudin leaves. Then we can talk openly.”
I turn to him, trying to keep my voice to a whisper. “We cannot allow him to go to Athens.”
“We have no choice.”
I pull away. We have no choice. That is a reality of a world I want no part of.
I take one last look at the cremation chamber and I leave the room.
“You are to return to Pod C.” A Monitor is waiting in the hallway.
Dallas is too dazed to do anything but take Rhen’s hand and follow her out. I motion for Berk to go ahead of me. The Monitor leads the way. Behind us is another Monitor. I slow down, creating a distance between Berk and me. I stop to adjust my shoe and the others turn the corner. I come up quickly and throw my elbow into the Monit
or’s stomach. He doubles over, but not before he reaches into his pocket for his communications pad.
I race past him and find a doorway that leads to a stairwell. But there is no door that leads above, and the aircraft is above. Loudin has a private elevator from his office that leads to a door outside. But that cannot be the only way out. I press on the walls as hard as I can, hoping—praying—there is a secret entrance. Nothing but solid, unmoving concrete is beneath my hands.
I groan and sprint back out the door. A line of Monitors move toward me. I duck back into the stairwell and run down the stairs. I do not know where I am going, but I refuse to give up easily. I run past level after level, until my lungs burn and my legs refuse to continue moving. I am sure Monitors are waiting outside this and every door leading from the stairwell to the hallway. I cannot escape them. I sit on a stair and catch my breath. Running made me feel better. I am less likely to try to attack a Monitor anyway.
It was a terrible idea, but I had to do something. I had to fight back. It felt too much like my pre-New Hope life, acquiescing to Loudin’s demands, going where the Monitors told me to go. That Thalli is dead.
My heart is heavy as I think of Kristie, hating that my last memory is her on the shelf, going into the cremation chamber. I close my eyes and think of Kristie in New Hope, sitting with Carey in their house, talking with us, smiling. I want those to be the memories that come to mind when I think of her.
The door opens and I lift my eyes, prepared to see an angry Monitor. “James?”
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 26
Can you take me to the aircraft?” I ask James, running to catch up with him as he makes long strides down the hallway.
“No. I can’t do that.” He turns back to look at me. “But there is something I can do.”
We continue walking until we reach an elevator. We ride down three more floors, to Level F. I have never been on this level. I have passed by it on the way down to H, where Loudin’s laboratory is housed. The doors open, and a rush of cold air makes me grip my arms, rubbing warmth into them. It must be twenty degrees cooler here than it was in the cremation chamber.