But Dr. Carlhagen didn’t look. He hovered near the senator and called for Greta.
“Yes, sir?” the AI responded.
“What happened with the power?”
“I don’t know, sir. But shall we begin? The initial scan is complete. I can handle the senator’s cancerous regions without losing more than a fraction of a percent of her memory and capacity. She won’t notice the difference.”
“Please proceed.”
“Another Scion mismatch I see,” Greta mused. “No matter. I shall have to back up both brains and run simulations to get the final transfer solution correct.”
“Do what you need to do.”
The wheel began to spin. Belle closed her eyes. Her heart raced, her breath came in short gasps. But she hadn’t changed her mind. She wanted to do this. She needed to.
Another image. The medical ward entryway, lit only by the light cutting through from the dojo across the quad. Other girls stood nearby. Nurse Smith’s flabby face hung before Belle like a blurry moon. Belle’s arms swung around, hand impacting the woman’s cheek. Again. Again. “Where is Vaughn?”
Belle felt the fabric of a cotton sheet under her fingers. Would it feel like that on the other side?
In her mind, a thornskipple branch lashed down, tearing at the back of Jacey’s legs. Belle pulled them free, thorn by thorn, reveling in righteous anger. Vengeance for a life of being outshined.
Jacey’s voice came back to her mind. “But I do love you.”
Belle believed it. Didn’t understand it, but she believed it. She couldn’t feel the same for Jacey, though. Not without lying. But she was glad she’d saved Jacey, because she had told the truth. The others did need her.
Does that make me a hero?
Does that make me worthy of Vaughan?
She didn’t think so. What she had told Jacey had been true, too. She was being selfish.
Sensei’s words came back to her. “You have no one.”
“I’ll have Vaughan,” she whispered. “I’ll be with Vaughan.”
Greta started counting backward from one hundred, but Belle lost track somewhere around ninety-four. Her vision dimmed, and she felt thin and insubstantial, like a hologram.
And then all sense-data input ceased.
43
This is Extraordinary Beauty
Jacey rested on the grated steel catwalk above the ceiling of the transfer room. Only the light from the reader penetrated the blackness that threatened to envelop her in a blanket of despair.
I’ve failed.
She had vowed that no Scion would be overwritten again, but below her it was happening at that very moment.
And by choice.
She got to her hands and knees and noticed a panel that would fit the hole in the closet she had climbed through. She replaced it, taking great pains to be silent. To be caught now would waste Belle’s sacrifice.
That’s what it was, Jacey thought. A sacrifice.
How can I ever live up to it?
“Jacey?” The voice came from the reader.
She glanced down to see Vaughan’s face. She sat on her heels and sniffed and wiped her nose and eyes.
“Vaughan?”
“Where are you?”
Jacey glanced around. “I’m in an attic above the transfer room. On a catwalk. Belle traded places with me. She said you could save a copy of her.”
“I’m waiting for the right moment. It’s . . .” A long pause. “Risky.”
“You have to save her,” she whispered, holding the reader close to her lips. “After what she did for me . . .”
“I know, I know,” Vaughan said. “I’m going to try. But you should get out of there right now.”
“Transfer beginning,” Greta said from below.
“Excellent, excellent,” Dr. Carlhagen said. His voice froze Jacey momentarily, and she heard his footsteps directly beneath her. She held her breath.
“Soon my love,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Soon I will have you.”
Jacey shivered. It could have been her down there on that cot. She still didn’t understand why Belle had done what she had, but to get caught here would make it all for nothing.
Bit by bit, she inched along the catwalk, shining the reader light into the darkness, trying to see the way out. She came to what appeared to be a dead end. She had to stop and close her eyes and remember the orientation of the room below her, where the closet had been. If she went to the right, she would be going toward the freezer room. She knew there was no way out in that direction.
To her left ran more ceiling joists and some thicker struts of metal that sat atop what appeared to be concrete blocks.
Yes. That would be the wall separating one of the holding rooms from the transfer room. Belle must have come in from there.
Jacey crossed over the wall and scanned ahead. She could see the tops of a few more walls, each defining the holding rooms on this side of the hallway. Beyond that, a concrete block wall rose all the way to the attic ceiling, blocking off further progress. She would have to go down through one of the holding rooms.
“Transfer complete,” Greta announced.
Jacey clamped a hand over her mouth. Belle was gone.
“Oh dear, is she dead?” That was Miss Dayspring’s voice. “I hope it worked.”
A loud crack, hands clapping together. “Of course it worked, you idiot,” Dr. Carlhagen barked. “Now, we’ll just wheel the cot out and . . . What the devil?”
Jacey knew that Dr. Carlhagen had spotted Belle. He’d probably start looking for her immediately. Though she hated to do it, she decided the best thing to do was to stay concealed in the attic.
She lay on her belly and eased up a corner of one of the transfer room ceiling panels. Just past Dr. Carlhagen’s shoulder, Miss Dayspring had pulled out the cot with Belle’s body on it. Jacey could just make out Belle’s head. Her eyes opened, squinting against the bright light.
“Who is this girl?” Miss Dayspring asked. “This isn’t the one that was here before. Or does the machine do this to faces?”
Dr. Carlhagen staggered a step backward. “Where is she? Where is she?” He looked all around the room, spun a full circle. “Impossible!”
“Doctor, what’s wrong? This is supposed to happen, right?” Miss Dayspring loosened the straps around Belle’s legs and arms and then her head. Belle’s long, slender arm lifted. Her hand pressed to her forehead. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath.
“Miss Dayspring, whatever is the matter?” Belle asked.
Not Belle, Jacey reminded herself. That’s Senator Bentilius now.
“How did she do it?” Dr. Carlhagen said, face drawn and distraught.
“Christof?” Senator Bentilius rose onto her hands and swung her legs off the cot. She didn’t seem shaky as much as dazed.
Miss Dayspring took her elbow. “Are you okay, Madam Senator? Do you need some water?”
“I’m wonderful. I feel . . .” She raised her arms above her head and gave a huge stretch. A smile broke out on her lips. Belle’s lips. This wasn’t the cold, cruel smile Jacey had seen a handful of times. This was a luxuriant, pleasurable smile. It softened the sharpness of Belle’s features. “I feel light as a feather.” She took another deep breath. “Ah, youth. What a sweet drug it is.”
Frowning, she put a hand to her hair and stroked down Belle’s long ponytail. “That’s not right.”
“Madam Senator,” Dr. Carlhagen said, taking a hesitant step forward, “I can explain.”
The senator’s eyes flashed up, not like Belle’s. Not filled with anger. “Explain what? I don’t like ponytails.” She pulled the rubber band loose and shook out her hair. It fell like a veil of snow across her face and over her shoulders, starkly white against the black of her Scion uniform.
She hooked a thumb through her hair and drew it back from her face. Jacey was startled by the beauty Belle had suppressed for so long. “Much better,” the senator said.
She glanced at the n
urse’s hand on her arm. “Unhand me, Miss Dayspring.”
The nurse snatched her hand away and shuffled a few steps back. “I’m sorry, Madam.”
“Leave us. Make sure no one disturbs me and Christof.”
Could Belle’s voice go that low? Could it be so rich, so full of command? Jacey had only ever heard it be cutting and sarcastic.
The nurse shuffled out the door.
Dr. Carlhagen rubbed his hands together, staring at the senator and nervously licking his lips. “Maxine,” he said, “I do have something to tell you about the transfer.”
“Did something go wrong?” She looked down at her hands, then rubbed them on her abdomen and down her hips. “I haven’t been this fit,” she looked up and smiled, “ever.”
She glanced around at the tile on the floor. “But something does feel off. Strange.”
“I told you, I can explain. If you’d just give me a moment.”
“I’m taller,” she said. “My god, I’m taller! This idea to use a different Scion was brilliant.”
She took a few steps toward him, drinking him in with her eyes. Jacey had the impression of a predator stalking its prey. With a flash, the senator’s hands went to Dr. Carlhagen’s chest and rubbed up to his shoulders. In Vaughan’s body, Dr. Carlhagen was tall, much taller than the senator, even with her new body. Her hands traced down the outside of his shoulders onto his arms. She drew them around her, slipping her body close to his, tilting her head back, lips parted.
“It’s been much too long, my love,” she said in a husky voice.
Dr. Carlhagen cleared his throat. “You are beautiful, dear. I cannot deny it. It’s just that . . .”
The senator released him and retreated a step. “What is it? What’s wrong with me?” She snapped her fingers. “Give me a mirror.”
Dr. Carlhagen pointed to a hand mirror resting on a cart behind her. She snatched it up, lifted it, and stared, her face frozen in momentary judgment, the way Belle might have stared at a misbehaving Dolphin. She turned her face this way and that, moving the mirror about.
“Well, this is a surprise,” she said. Still holding the mirror in front of her face, she shifted her eyes briefly to Dr. Carlhagen. “This is not the girl you showed me.”
Dr. Carlhagen held up his hands in helplessness. “Maxine, there was a slight problem with the Scion I originally offered. It turned out she wasn’t suitable. You could view this as a temporary body. When we find your true Scion, we can do another transfer to her and all will be well.” He pasted on a smile.
The senator lowered the mirror, returned it to the cart, then faced him, expression utterly serious. But not at all like Belle’s. She tilted her chin down and looked up, something that Jacey had seen Summer do countless times—though this look was filled with far more worldly sensuality than Summer possessed.
“No need to apologize, my darling. I quite prefer this look to the other girl. She was so ordinarily pretty. This . . .” she said, lifting her hands to her throat and trailing her fingers down her breasts and to her abdomen. “This is extraordinary beauty. This is beauty one can build a brand on. This,” she said, taking more slinky steps toward Dr. Carlhagen, “this is the face of a future President of the North American Union.”
Tension went out of Dr. Carlhagen’s shoulders. “Wonderful,” he said, though his tone was not at all convincing to Jacey. He continued to look around the room as if he would find her. But his attention was quickly drawn to the senator as she threw herself at him, pulled his lips to hers. His shoulders rose to his ears and, for a moment, he pressed on her, trying to push her away. But suddenly, as fast as the flip of a light switch, he surrendered.
Jacey supposed any man’s resistance would fail beneath the intensity of the senator’s lusty assault.
Soon the kiss broke, and the woman’s hands grasped the fabric of Dr. Carlhagen’s shirt. Jacey was sure she was going to rip it apart. And for that matter, Dr. Carlhagen’s hands were busy exploring the senator’s new contours. Their breathing grew more labored, and Jacey could not bear to watch, could not block from her mind the fact that this was not only Dr. Carlhagen and Senator Bentilius, but also Vaughan and Belle.
Jacey lowered the panel into place and crept away. Remembering Belle’s instructions, she skipped the first room and its locked door. Once above the second, she lifted a panel. Seeing that it was just above a cot in one of the holding rooms, she slipped down. A moment later she stood before the open door of the holding room.
She bolted from the room, cut to her right, and slammed through the door into the main ward. The room lay empty, echoing the slap of her footfalls and sob-filled breaths as she sprinted into the entryway, past Nurse Smith’s desk, and through the doors into the night air.
Screams and shouts added to the cacophony of the bell tower’s incessant ringing.
Jacey stopped dead in her tracks, reader dropping from her hand and clattering onto the ground. The quad was a battlefield.
44
Efficient Savagery
Darkness closed in from all sides, eating at the solitary light mounted above the dojo entrance across the quad. The filmy beams slanted across the grass, silhouetting three concentrations of brutality. To Jacey’s right, three Scions rolled on the ground, subduing an armed guard. Kirk grasped the man’s right arm, pressing a foot into his armpit. Another boy, she thought it was Sang, threw sharp blows into the man’s midsection. A girl Jacey thought might be Wanda lay across his legs, twining her arms and legs around them.
To Jacey’s left, near the pit, a scrum of more Scions surrounded an empty-handed man who spun in a circle. He lashed out at the smallest Scion and was instantly struck in the back of one knee by a Centipede boy. He disappeared beneath a pile of Scions who rained blows on him with endless fury.
Ahead of Jacey, Alice faced off with a ghost.
She gasped. “Sensei!”
He blurred all around the woman, harrying her, and landing blows that should have knocked her to the ground. She received the punches and kicks with grunts but didn’t go down. Elias and Tytus circled around her, searching for an opportunity to attack. Horace stood further back, holding up a long knife and shifting his weight from foot to foot.
On the ground nearby lay Humphrey. Blood covered half of his face.
Jacey ran to him, shook him. He didn’t respond. She felt at his throat for a pulse. Found it.
“Surrender,” Sensei ordered. “I don’t want to kill you.”
Alice didn’t respond, except to leap at him, swinging her arm in a long but skull-crushing arc toward his face.
He dodged and rolled.
With lightning quickness, the woman swept up her leg, timing it perfectly to position her foot where Sensei’s head would have been if he’d completed his move. Instead, he lay flat on the ground a second longer, and her foot sailed past. With a quick roll back onto his shoulders, he launched himself to his feet and fell into his fighting stance, chest heaving. In the dark it was impossible for Jacey to make out his expression. But she needed no light to know the deadly look in his eyes.
Sensei circled, a technique Jacey recognized, forcing the woman to reposition to protect her left flank.
Her hand went to the holster on her belt, and in a fluid movement she drew a pistol, black and sharp-edged.
“Run,” Sensei commanded Elias and Tytus.
But Sensei didn’t flee. Instead, he stalked closer to the woman. She straightened and took careful aim.
Elias’s scream erupted in the darkness. “DIE!”
The cry carried such hatred and fury that Alice turned away from her kill shot.
“Elias!” Sensei cried.
But the martial arts master hadn’t finished the last syllable of the Eagle’s name before the boy was in the air, leading with the blade edge of his foot.
Alice swung around, flailing an arm to deflect his attack. She guessed wrong, expecting it to be lower, to come from a Scion braced on the ground.
Elias sailed ab
ove her parry, foot striking her full in the face. The pistol went off as the woman went down, Elias atop her. A second later, Tytus closed in, delivering blows with efficient savagery. Horace raced in, laughing and crowing. The knife flashed up and then disappeared in a blur as he plunged into the woman’s chest.
It rose again, blackened, then disappeared into her gut. Blood sprayed across Horace’s face. He howled and raised the blade again.
“Enough!” Sensei shouted, wresting the blade from Horace with twist. His foot came up and thrust Horace onto his back.
Tytus had scurried away already, eyes wide with horror at the seething wounds bubbling from Alice’s torso.
Sensei handed the blade to Tytus. “Keep this away from Horace.” He knelt to check Alice’s pulse. “Dead.”
Elias moaned and rolled on the grass, holding his side. A girl swooped out of the shadows, knelt beside him, and cradled his head. A long, black ponytail trailed behind her.
“Summer?” Jacey said, shocked to see her on campus.
“I told you to stay in the skiff,” Sensei grumbled at the Spider.
“I did,” Summer said petulantly. “For a while.”
Sensei probed Elias’s side. His hand came away slicked with blood. “Into the medical ward with him.” Sang had run over, and he and Tytus lifted Elias and carried him off.
“Make Miss Dayspring take care of him,” Jacey called after. “Summer, go with him. Have Sang make sure that Dr. Carlhagen and the senator do not come out of the transfer room.”
Humphrey stirred and rolled to his hands and knees. Jacey ran to him, put her arms around him. His eyes focused on her for a moment, then he shoved her away.
She fell onto her side. “What’s wrong with you?”
He wasn’t listening, as he was gagging and convulsing with sickness. Jacey was thankful for the darkness then.
She patted his back, and he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his filthy white suit coat. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to get puke on your uniform. That woman hit me right in the gut.”
Child of Lies Page 26