Belle’s blood turned to ice. “But that’s not possible. We’re not set to graduate for nearly a year.” The next graduating class included her, Jacey, Vaughan, and Humphrey, and three of those Progenitors were dead.
That left Belle’s Progenitor, who would arrive in 360 days.
Jacey started walking again. “It’s an emergency transfer. The Progenitor is deathly ill.”
“So it’s not my Progenitor?” Chills crisscrossed Belle’s skin as relief washed over her.
“No.”
“Whose is it?”
“Summer’s.”
The Spider from Jacey’s Nine.
Belle relaxed. There’s still time.
7
The Line Between Hero and Criminal
The hacienda’s carved mahogany entry doors swung inward as Jacey and Belle approached. Mr. Justin stood just inside holding a tray of pastries. The smell of them made Jacey’s stomach growl.
The butler bowed slightly, smiling.
He’s always so friendly, Jacey thought. Always so helpful.
So why wasn’t he more forthcoming about how Dr. Carlhagen compensated him? Why did he insist that resisting future transfers was hopeless?
“Is Humphrey in the office?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Jacey. I had a hunch you’d return with Miss Belle, so I prepared an arrangement of breakfast items.”
“Good. I’m starving.” She didn’t wait for Mr. Justin to lead her into Dr. Carlhagen’s old office. Humphrey stood at the window, still in the white suit, staring out at the turquoise sea.
Mr. Justin set the tray on the edge of Dr. Carlhagen’s desk. Jacey snatched up a piece of buttered toast and took a bite.
Belle ignored the food. She fell into an at-rest stance, blue eyes straight ahead, porcelain face betraying no emotion. She wore her nearly-white hair in a severe ponytail. It was bound even tighter than usual. Jacey wondered if Belle was trying to make up for her own lapse in form.
Humphrey turned and forced a wan smile at the sight of food. He poked through the items and absently selected a bagel. “I was just thinking that the hurricane might have damaged the fence somewhere along its length. Perhaps it’s no longer electrified and we could climb over.”
“Oh, the fence is quite intact,” Mr. Justin said. “We have sensors mounted along its length that tell us if trees fall against it or if sections become compromised in other ways.”
Humphrey swallowed and dabbed crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “I guess we’ll have to search Sensei’s villa again for the gate control. I wonder if he had it on him when he was taken. Is that coffee?” He pointed at a sliver urn.
“It is, indeed,” Mr. Justin said. He swept up a cup and poured the aromatic drink. Humphrey accepted the cup with a grim smile and sipped. He let out a contented sigh.
Jacey had never had coffee until Sensei had made some for her. Since then, she had gotten Humphrey hooked on it as well.
She took a cup from Mr. Justin and carried it to the window. She sipped and peered toward the fence line. Its razor wire top sparkled in the morning sunlight.
She hated it.
Its only purpose was to keep her and the rest of the Scions trapped inside of this small section of the island. Now that Sensei and Dr. Carlhagen were gone, it was only a matter of time until the Scions started clamoring to be let out to explore the rest of the island.
Not that they’d be getting out anyway. No one could find the gate opener, and Madam LaFontaine absolutely refused to open it.
Just as well the gate stays closed, Jacey thought. The last thing she needed was Scions sneaking out and getting lost.
She sipped more coffee, then took the seat behind the desk, skin warming under Humphrey’s gaze as he followed her movements. Though his cornflower eyes looked just like Dr. Carlhagen’s, she welcomed his attention.
He was like coffee in a way. Bitter at first. But once she’d acquired the taste, his presence filled her with warmth and energy.
She’d never felt anything from a boy’s stare before. But now she was hooked.
Belle clamped her lips tightly together, clearly disapproving of Jacey’s presumption to sit in the position of power. But somebody had to sit there, and Jacey was too tired to stand.
Mr. Justin stood patiently by the door. She glanced at him. “That’ll be all.”
His smile faded to impassivity. With a slight flash of one brow, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Jacey turned to Humphrey. “I’ve updated Belle about the situation with Summer. We need to figure out how to protect her. The only weapons I know of are Mr. Justin’s rifle and Dr. Carlhagen’s pistol. We’ll have to ask Mr. Justin to bring them out from wherever he’s got them locked away. I have no idea how much ammunition is on hand.”
Humphrey’s lips parted, and he set his cup on a sideboard. “Are you seriously suggesting we shoot Senator Bentilius and her guards?”
“I told you. I will not allow another mind transfer.”
“This Senator Bentilius woman seems especially important. Kill her and her guards, and someone out there will miss them. Then we’ll be overrun with outsiders.”
“What do you suggest?” She took another bite of toast, but her mouth had gone dry, making the bread as tasteless as stone.
“Run. Take Summer and hide her until Senator Bentilius succumbs to her disease. She said she only has four weeks to live.”
“That would invite even more outsiders for search teams,” Belle said. She lifted the coffee urn, pulled off the lid, and sniffed. Shrugging slightly, she poured herself a cup. “Not a smart move at all.”
Jacey was surprised Belle had spoken, since she’d made a point of not looking at either her or Humphrey this entire time.
Belle went on, “They’ll search the campus millimeter by millimeter. There’s no place this side of the fence to hide, and no escape unless you’re stupid enough to try building a raft.” She took a sip and made a face. “What is this?”
Trying to escape by raft would be tantamount to suicide, Jacey knew. The pounding surf made any escape by sea impossible, especially for Scions who had never swum farther than twenty meters from shore, let alone been on a boat.
“If we could get past the fence, there’s the whole island,” Humphrey said. “There has to be somewhere to hide. A cave or something.”
“There’s Mother Tyeesha’s,” Jacey said, tossing the remainder of her toast onto the desk.
“That’s the first place they’d look,” Belle said. She lowered her eyes to the floor, thin brows furrowing as she puzzled over the problem. “The most obvious answer is probably the best.”
“And that is . . . ?” Jacey prompted.
Belle lifted her gaze to meet Jacey’s. “Let this Senator person have Summer. It’s regrettable, but Summer’s been a troublesome Scion anyway. The Progenitor and her guards would come and go, never knowing that Dr. Carlhagen is no longer in control here.”
Jacey stood, hands clenched into fists. “You can’t be serious.”
Belle’s face remained expressionless. “You must take the emotion out of the equation to solve it.”
“But what if it were you instead of Summer?”
“It will be me in a year. Summer’s sacrifice will buy us time to prevent any further transfers.”
Jacey flopped back into the chair. She saw Belle’s logic. But if she took the emotion out, it became too cold of an equation. People weren’t numbers.
Besides, math had never been Jacey’s forte. “We have less than twelve hours before the senator arrives. I’m not willing to give up just yet. And there’s one more issue. I want to get the school back to some semblance of normalcy.”
Belle smirked. “Semblance of normalcy? Why don’t you speak in plain English for a change? Socrates is no longer here to praise your elocution.”
She’s trying to bait me, Jacey thought. Whether it was intentional or reflexive, she didn’t know. Reacting to Belle would just make th
ings worse, so she kept her face smooth. “What did you tell the others about what happened the other day?”
“I told them that Sarah committed suicide and Dr. Carlhagen died.”
“Suicide? I thought everyone saw Vaughan throw her from the bell tower.”
Sarah had been overwritten by Janicka, her Progenitor. But something had gone wrong in the mind transfer, and Sarah’s awareness hadn’t been completely obliterated. As a result, Janicka/Sarah had been disoriented and panicky, which had led her to ascend to the top of the bell tower. But she hadn’t jumped. Her fall had been Dr. Carlhagen’s doing. Because Sarah had been wearing Jacey’s discarded gown, Dr. Carlhagen—newly transferred into Vaughan’s body—had thought that Sarah was Jacey. Desperate, he had raced to the top to save her. Enraged upon finding Sarah, he had thrown her over the railing.
“That’s not what I saw.” Belle said flatly. “Vaughan tried to save Sarah. She broke free and jumped. Vaughan was so overwrought by it that he had to be sedated in the medical ward.”
Humphrey laughed quietly to himself. “Excellent lies, Belle. And they believed that?”
Belle’s thin brows lowered a fraction of a centimeter. “I told no lies. That’s what happened.”
Jacey and Humphrey exchanged glances.
“Did anyone actually believe that Sarah jumped of her own volition?” Jacey asked.
“She did jump ‘of her own volition,’” Belle said, again mocking Jacey’s choice of words. “And the others are very concerned about Vaughan. They know he probably blames himself, though he was the only one who thought fast enough to try to rescue Sarah.”
Either Belle was in flat denial or she was lying. Jacey didn’t see why Belle would knowingly lie about the events, since it would gain her nothing. That meant Belle was delusional, which actually made more sense. The pale girl had been in love with Vaughan. It also explained her behavior in the medical ward just now. Jacey would have to keep a close eye on Belle.
“So, you said nothing about us being clones?” Jacey asked. “Nothing about mind transfers? Nothing about Dr. Carlhagen overwriting Vaughan?”
“No,” Belle said. “And Vaughan is not Dr. Carlhagen. Not anymore.”
“So you see nothing erratic about his behavior? You’re not the least bit startled that he admitted to being Dr. Carlhagen?”
“I’m not saying that Dr. Carlhagen didn’t try to overwrite Vaughan. I’m not stupid. I saw the transfer machine and the dog video.” She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at Jacey. “But I know Vaughan. If Sarah could resist being overwritten, then Vaughan certainly could.”
Jacey had to admit that if anyone could do it, Vaughan could. But she’d seen no glimmer of Vaughan in those eyes. Even his facial expressions had twisted to resemble Dr. Carlhagen’s.
“He just needs time to heal,” Belle said, “and he’ll be himself again.” Her voice was all confidence, but she twisted her coffee cup in her fingers.
Instead of arguing the point, Jacey placed her hands on Dr. Carlhagen’s desk. “Vaughan? Would you mind talking to us for a moment?”
He appeared, a glowing hologram above the desk. He wore his uniform, Shark pin on the collar.
He smiled at Jacey. Without turning, he greeted Humphrey and Belle.
Belle’s face, always pale, went white as a frangipani petal. Her cup clanked on the desk and nearly toppled as she set it down. She came around to stand next to Jacey. “Socrates, stop it. This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not Socrates,” Vaughan said. “I’m afraid our old mentor and teacher was deleted at Dr. Carlhagen’s order. When Dr. Carlhagen transferred from his body to mine, the transfer AI retained a digital image of my brain. It was Jacey who discovered this and came up with the idea to have me installed on Socrates’s server.”
Jacey said, “Vaughan, would you tell Belle what you discovered?”
“Socrates was working on the Sarah/Janicka problem before he was deleted. He traced the bug back to a synapse count mismatch. Simply put, Janicka didn’t have enough gray matter to completely overwrite Sarah, so a significant proportion of Sarah remained. When the AI conducted Dr. Carlhagen’s transfer into my body, the AI made sure to blank out any such leftovers.”
Jacey laid a hand on Belle’s arm. “That means nothing of Vaughan is left. He can’t regain control over his body. “
Belle snatched her arm away. “I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Jacey. “You put this—this machine—up to this.”
“I’m sorry,” Vaughan said, “but the human form you knew as Vaughan is now completely Dr. Carlhagen.”
Belle snapped her mouth shut. All emotion drained from her eyes. Jacey had seen this phenomenon before. It seemed that every time Belle got too emotional, she flipped an internal switch and became stone. There had been a few exceptions. Jacey shivered to remember one in particular, when Belle had lashed her with a thornskipple branch.
Mr. Justin stepped into the office and cleared his throat. “Since you asked me to leave the room so you could futilely discuss ways to protect Summer, I took the opportunity to find the list of Progenitors Dr. Carlhagen entrusted to me.” He extended a piece of paper to Jacey.
She took it. Printed in fine black letters was a list of Scions and Progenitors. She found her own name right away. Her Progenitor’s full name had been Jacqueline Buchanan. Just above it was Charles Buchanan, Vaughan’s Progenitor. Their surnames were the same. An odd coincidence.
Humphrey stood behind her, reading over her shoulder. “Dr. Carlhagen is not on the list.”
Mr. Justin shrugged. “Dr. Carlhagen created the list. He knew you were his Scion.”
Belle crowded close to Jacey’s other shoulder. She slid a finger from her name to her Progenitor. Korra Bolelli.
She grunted, as if dissatisfied with her Progenitor’s name. “After my transfer, would this Korra person have returned to the world as Belle Bolelli?”
“That depends on the cover story,” Mr. Justin said.
Jacey looked up. “What do you mean ‘cover story?’”
“Ah, you’ve had such amazing educations, and yet there are so many gaps. A cover story is a kind of lie. The Progenitor can’t transfer into a Scion’s body and then just return to his or her life as if nothing happened. People would notice they had become fifty or sixty years younger overnight. They are all quite wealthy, so they invent a fiction, a lie, that they had an illegitimate son or daughter—or in some cases grandson or granddaughter—that they’d kept secret or hadn’t known about. After they transfer into their Scion, they return to the world as that son, daughter, grandson, or granddaughter, having inherited the entirety of their Progenitor’s wealth.”
“So you’re saying that Korra Bolelli is rich?” Belle asked.
“Very.”
Jacey leaned back in the chair. “It is difficult to accept that the outside world is not the wasteland Dr. Carlhagen told us it was. But to think that so many have accumulated masses of wealth . . .”
“It is not so many, Miss Jacey. Perhaps a thousandth of a thousandth percent can afford to sponsor a Scion. And of those, Dr. Carlhagen tried to screen out the more despotic types. For the most part, we have no war criminals or dictators amongst our Scions.”
“For the most part?” Jacey asked, frowning.
Mr. Justin raised and lowered his hands as if weighing one against the other. “When considering the character of a politician or a general, the line between hero and criminal is a matter of perspective. As for Korra Bolelli, she is among the poorer of the rich. But she’s enough of a celebrity that one could find out much about her on the net. I happen to know she was the wife of a very famous racecar driver, Eduardo Bolelli, who was killed in a crash. Dr. Carlhagen told me that Korra hadn’t known about her husband’s plan to sponsor a Scion at the school until she was going through his paperwork and found the contract. It hadn’t been signed yet, but Eduardo had made a deposit. Korra contacted Dr. Carlhagen and asked to sp
onsor a Scion in her husband’s place. Dr. Carlhagen was only too happy to oblige, since at the time he needed the cash.”
“Race cars,” Humphrey mused. “You mean like the Jeep?”
Mr. Justin let out a dry, raspy laugh. “Only in that both vehicles have four wheels. No, the Jeep is a very specialized vehicle designed for rough terrain. The company that manufactures it has been in business in many forms for well over two hundred years now. Racecars are generally custom-designed. They’re low, sleek, and they go over four hundred kilometers per hour on a straightaway.”
It was difficult for Jacey to grasp that there was an entire activity around racing cars. It seemed frivolous and wasteful. She struggled to accept that the outside world wasn’t a disaster area where humans barely scraped out a meager existence. In fact, Dr. Carlhagen had told the Scions that their purpose was to go into the world and help bring humanity back from the brink of extinction.
All lies, it turned out.
The Progenitors lied, too. Jacey wondered if anyone in the outside world told the truth.
She scanned the list until she came to Summer’s name, and there across from it was Senator Bentilius. “There’s nothing to indicate this individual is more important than the others. Would you be able to mark the ones on the list who are as important as the senator?”
“I could, but my knowledge is incomplete. And even if I research some of these names, I’m certain that many are pseudonyms. Perhaps even Dr. Carlhagen didn’t know their true identities.”
“Then how could he screen them out?” she asked.
For the first time that Jacey could remember, Mr. Justin had no response. He pursed his lips and considered the question, though he didn’t seem particularly concerned about it.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter much right now,” Jacey said. “But I’d like to be prepared in case another VIP decides they want to transfer early. This makes it even more important that we not allow Summer’s transfer. If Senator Bentilius returns to the outside world as a fourteen-year-old girl, the other Progenitors may get wind of it. They may decide that they also want to transfer early.”
Child of Lies Page 4