Unnatural
Page 75
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Not far from where Livingston had appeared, Sabrina saw a Transhuman holding his fist out, a ring on his index finger.
“Dennis!” she blurted.
He wasn’t startled by the blaster in her hand, which had understandably refrained from targeting a Transhuman. He simply took her hand without a word and bounded down toward the emergency exit.
She broke free before the last step. The numbness evolved into quiet resolution. “I’m not leaving here.”
“Yeah, well, I am, ‘cause guess what I don’t wanna do? Get stunned.”
He can take care of himself. “Okay, then go, but don’t come running to me with any questions when you find what’s out there.” She returned to the upper landing. “I have to do this.”
Uriah made no move to impede her.
She didn’t have to look hard for the right room. It was the one with light flowing out into the narrow hall through a window. With some irrational apprehension, she crossed to the door.
Where was Michael? The possibility of his being irreversibly dead had disappeared from her mind, for now more than any time before, the aim of her current existence was in sharp focus. If the pain was going to be there forever, it might as well be for the sake of the only source of innocence left in her life. Her son’s death was as inconceivable as backward time travel, which if feasible would shatter truth as she knew it. Truth was all she had.
An MRI machine. She was beside it in a nanosecond.
And there he was. Lifeless, but there was hope in his non-mutilated brain. He could just be like her father, in some legally dead sleep from which he might emerge if she were as smart as Artemis had believed.
Sabrina pressed the boy to her chest, yet even now she could not let herself cry. Not if she wanted to show him real love.
The door slid open behind her, then shut.
She wanted to slap him right there, but she couldn’t let go of Michael, so she turned around and stared with all the austerity left inside her. “You asshat. Why’d you leave him? What, when the risk runs high, you’d sell your son down the river?”
He looked mildly ticked, then sighed and put both hands up. “All right, I can explain, but it’s clear something else was upsetting you back there and I wanna know what.”
“I’m not talking about it. I need to restore my son back to life before the cryoprotectants lose their effect, and if Artemis was onto something, I need to do that here, now, and by myself.”
“Who the hell is Artemis?”
Sabrina ignored Uriah, taking a seat in the cold, sterile room. She closed her eyes, racking her brain for the solution, but nothing came. It was the ultimate cruelty on the part of fate or nature or God or whatever, stonewalling her now that she had a time limit. The pressure was too much.
“Please listen to me.”
She collected the facts. Clearly the plan involved analysis of Michael’s brain, if not also Uriah’s. But a Transhuman couldn’t get an MRI, which meant …
“So that’s why you left,” she said.
Uriah had followed her gaze. “Oh, sure, I would’ve gladly stuck around otherwise. Cryonics Institute bots are so nice.”
Why couldn’t he just be serious? “And you couldn’t take Michael out because –”
“Took ya long enough to figure out, yeah.” He relaxed enough to grab a chair and join her.
For the first time, she saw in his downcast eyes an expression of sincere paternal sorrow. He’d never chosen to be Michael’s father, yet he seemed heartbroken by the boy’s distance. Maybe it was only because he’d had time to process Pat’s perishing before Sabrina met him, or perhaps tragedy in any child’s life would incur sharp emotional pain for him, but this reunion with a frozen son troubled him more than the prospect of his girlfriend’s or his own death.
“I’m sorry, Sabrina. For everything.”
“That’s ‘fake,’ by your own standards.” Still, she tried to smile, though this came out only as a wry reminder of the predicament. “Let’s just find the antidote.”
He returned the favor with his expression. “Well, it appears if we wanna do that, you’ll need to cut my skull open.”
“But didn’t you just say –?”
“I think there’s a huge difference between a bot doing that and you.” Uriah stood, inspecting the room. “If I had to guess, I’d say our best bet is to see what’s special about my brain compared to the human Popsicles in the other rooms. Knowing what prevents the Dethroning might be as good as knowing what reverses it.”
“You expect me to know how to spot a brain anomaly without any medical training whatsoever? I was only able to put you in the Libertas because Livingston gave me instructions.”
“Well there’s nothing else we can do!”
“That’s not what Artemis – long story, explaining it to you wouldn’t help – thought.” Sabrina now paced the floor, trying to see the broader picture for any clues. “What if we’re asking the wrong question?”
“What if that’s the wrong question?” said Uriah, leaning against the wall now as he focused on his feet.
“No, I’m serious. Dennis, what if the reason you survived the Dethroning wasn’t anything special about you? What if it was just your choice to track down Livingston that made him keep you immune on purpose?”
“That’s absurd. If he was trying to get revenge on me all this time, why would he do that when he could’ve stopped me before I set off the trigger?”
“No one ever said this was about revenge. I think it runs deeper than that. Hear me out – Livingston’s been pressuring both of us to do some sick things we’d never dream of doing if our lives depended on it otherwise. You gave your body, and I …”
She was grateful that he nodded as if he’d filled in the blanks, but he spoke up before she could continue. “Giving up my body wasn’t sick, Sabrina.” He kept his gaze on those feet. “Gambling so many people’s lives on nothing more than Pat’s word was. Hating anyone who gave up their body was. And no, that won’t ever excuse the sicker things our oppressors have done, but two wrongs don’t make a right.”
There wasn’t anything she could say to that. She didn’t want to come across as insensitive, but time was running out. “A-Anyway, it – could’ve all just been for his amusement.”
“I can’t accept that.” Uriah’s eyes jumped at light-speed to hers. “People just don’t act that way.”
Sabrina crossed her arms. “I would’ve said the same before, but this is a man whose friend wanted people to find true trust in the ones they loved, and he nearly lost his life because of the trust you put in –”
“I get it.” He glared.
After some vague thought, she headed for the door. “I need some time to think. Just … watch Michael for me.”
Uriah might have protested, but the barrier silenced him.
She thought back to what Artemis had said, walking back to where she’d left the robot. The answer was in her, and it had been there since the moment Livingston tried to vitrify her. But if Uriah’s theory was right, why did Artemis come at all? She’d all but stated this was Sabrina’s time to make her stand, no assistance required.
There she was, dead as the day Marshall had made her.
Made, just like Jane.
Sabrina knew what she had to do.