by J. W. Elliot
“They’ll have revoked our clearances by now,” Kaiden said.
“But you understand the system better than anyone.” He gestured to Flint. “You designed half of it.”
“Maybe,” Flint said. “But finding and killing Noah seems like the real challenge to me. He’s not stupid, and he’ll be expecting something.”
“We need a distraction,” Kaiden said.
Jade scowled, and Kaiden tried not to think of the way she had kissed him. It always left him with a confusing rush of excitement and guilt. And he couldn’t forget the pain in her eyes when he had refused to kiss her a second time last night.
“Distractions usually end up with dead bodies,” Jade said. “I’m against killing clones if we can help it.”
“Sacrifices have to be made,” Oakley said.
Willow spun to face him. “That’s exactly the kind of thing TAP would say,” she said. “Jade’s right. We need something else.”
Kaiden studied Willow. He hadn’t been satisfied with their conversation the day before. She hadn’t come looking for him after she recovered two days ago, though after the way he attacked her, maybe she had a good reason. Now, Willow glared at Oakley as if she suspected something.
Flint smiled. “What if we could play with memories?”
At first, Kaiden thought Flint was poking fun at him. The angry reply died on his lips when he saw that Flint was serious. Still, Kaiden didn’t like the idea of toying with people’s memories—not after what he’d experienced—what he was now experiencing.
“I took a peek at that chip they stuck in my neck,” Flint said. “Guess what I found?”
“What? A happy birthday message?” Birch mocked. “Spit it out.”
Flint kept grinning. “I found that the chip contained a standard memory file.”
“Which means?” Jade asked.
“It means,” Flint said, “that I should be able to hack the standard memory files of all the clones and insert our own memory files and then trigger a reset that would upload those memories.”
“Hang on,” Birch said. “If they could reset our memories at any time, why didn’t they just do that to all of us?”
“It’s called reconditioning,” Kaiden said, finally understanding what Noah had been talking about when he demanded that Kaiden submit himself for reconditioning. “But then, why would they need to murder Quill?”
Flint shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t intended as a reset. It was located with the discipline files. I’m not sure they understood the possibilities.”
“You can’t just reset the memories of thousands of people at once,” Willow said.
Flint grinned again. “I can.”
“How?” Jade demanded.
“Wireless,” Flint said. “Once I’m inside TAP, I can hack the central communication system and use it to broadcast a wireless signal to the chips. That’s how the discipline works, isn’t it? We’ll just hijack the system.”
“You think it’ll work?” Kaiden asked.
“If we have a memory to upload, I bet I can do it.”
“But you’re not certain,” Willow said.
Flint pursed his lips. “Nothing is ever certain, is it?”
“We don’t know how to write memories,” Jade said.
“We do,” Oakley said. “Well, simple ones anyway.”
“What kind of memory are you thinking of?” Kaiden asked.
Flint waved a hand in front of him. “I don’t know. How about something like, ‘We really like these ex-TAP infiltrators, so we shouldn’t kill them’?”
“I’ll vote for that one,” Birch said. “But that’s not going to help us find Noah.”
“No,” Willow said. “It needs to be more powerful. We need to give them a real memory that will convince them that TAP needs to be stopped.”
“What do you propose?” Oakley said.
“Take one of mine,” said Willow.
After a moment of stunned silence, Birch spoke up. “And how do you propose that we do that? Your mind’s not a computer. You can’t just pick a single memory file, or TAP would have been more effective at erasing our previous memories and writing new ones.”
“I have one I isolated and downloaded years ago,” Willow said.
“How?” Flint asked.
Willow dismissed him with a wave of the hand. “I’ve had forty years to figure it out,” she snapped.
“What is it?” Jade asked.
Willow bowed her head. “It’s one of me dying and being uploaded into a child’s brain.”
“Dang,” Flint said. “And you have that as a simple file?”
Willow nodded.
“Why?” Birch asked.
Willow glanced at Oakley. “I wanted to send it to my mother and to my brother, so they would know what happened to me.”
Oakley stared at her. Kaiden noted the war of emotions that played across Oakley’s face.
Willow continued in a quiet voice. “But I could never figure out how to send it in a format they could read.”
“That’s sad,” Flint said. “And really cool, too, in a weird way, like…” He paused and glanced around at them. “Okay. I’m just going to shut up now.”
“Good idea,” Birch said.
“Anyway,” Willow said, “I can provide the file. The question is, what do we do if it works?”
“I kill Noah,” Kaiden said.
It seemed clear to him now. Noah had been the one who had stolen his rotting body and his DNA. He had been the one who had robbed him of his identity and transformed him into a genetic freak. Jade had tried to convince him otherwise, but he just couldn’t feel it. Not for himself.
Willow gazed at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”
“He did this to me,” Kaiden said. “And I’m going to get even.”
“I don’t think you should,” Willow said.
Kaiden scowled. “Why?”
Willow fidgeted. “I don’t think you’ll want to live with that on your conscience.”
“I have to,” Kaiden insisted.
Willow bowed her head. “Maybe you do,” she mumbled.
“I want my people there to make sure you don’t mess this up,” Oakley said.
“No,” Kaiden, Jade, and Willow said at the same time.
Oakley shook his head. “That’s the deal. I helped you, now you help me.”
“We are helping you, in case you didn’t notice,” Birch said.
“But no terrorists go inside TAP,” Kaiden said.
“Then, I guess we’re done here,” Oakley said as he stood. “I’ll drop you off in Chicago, and you can see how long you make it on your own.” He strode toward the door.
Kaiden exchanged glances with the others.
“Sit down,” Kaiden said. He had no patience for displays of bravado.
Oakley spun to face him. His silver eyes flashed annoyance, but Kaiden waved it away.
“You can’t expect us to let the Sons of God into TAP,” Kaiden said. “How do we know you won’t start slaughtering every clone you see?” Even though Kaiden questioned his own humanity, he wasn’t about to get involved in killing clones—people like him, people he knew. Not if he could help it.
“I haven’t killed you yet, have I?” Oakley said.
“You need us,” Jade said, “for now.”
“I already told you that I want Noah dead and the TAP system so corrupted it can never restart,” Oakley said. “If you’ll give me that, I’ll let the clones live.”
Kaiden exchanged glances with his team. But he didn’t trust Oakley.
“Why?” Jade asked.
“What?”
“Why will you let the clones live?” Jade studied him as if she could read his expression.
Oakley considered her. “B
ecause without TAP, clones aren’t dangerous.”
“How do you figure that?” Birch said.
Oakley smirked. “Because there will be no one to control them. And the resources wasted on their development can be redirected to real human beings.”
Willow snapped her head around to stare at Oakley. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and Kaiden experienced the sudden urge to punch Oakley in the face. Oakley had just admitted that the sister he pretended to love wasn’t a real human.
His continued hypocrisy forced Kaiden to confront his own. He saw himself as a freak, but not Willow or the others. To hear Oakley deny their humanity rankled in his stomach. It was one thing for Kaiden to question his own identity, but what right did Oakley have to judge them for what someone else did to them without their consent?
“Okay,” Kaiden said, in an attempt to redirect Willow’s attention away from her calloused brother. “But, you can only have five men accompany us. And they have to have express orders not to kill any clones unless attacked. If they do, then we will shoot them on the spot.”
“Agreed.” Oakley sat down, and Kaiden eyed him with suspicion. That had been too easy.
“Now, to the details,” Oakley said, rubbing his hands together.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Invasion of Ararat
Kaiden crouched in the shadows of a dilapidated brick building in the stifling heat, waiting for Oakley to give the signal that the way was clear for them to board the airship. Jade, Willow, Flint, and Birch huddled next to him. It had been two weeks since they had escaped TAP, and now, they were going back in. They were insane. This could never work.
The dull roar of the megacity surrounded them like the incessant whine of an insect. Apartment towers bulging with humanity hovered over them, their windows glowing in the gathering darkness. Hovercrafts hissed and whirred as they zipped overhead. The stink of human waste clung to the still air.
Sweat trickled down Kaiden’s back and beaded on his forehead. He hadn’t often been in the cities, and now, he remembered why he avoided them. The menace of the city loomed over him as if eagerly waiting for the moment when it could fall and crush the life out of him. It sucked at his soul. Something about the mass of concrete and steel and the oily, empty streets made him feel less human than he already did.
Among Kaiden’s restored memories were the ones of his youth in New York. He struggled to remember that it was forty years ago, but so much had changed. The earth’s climate had been mostly stable then. Cities still had parks. The ocean levels had risen but hadn’t yet devoured the coastlines. People had walked and driven their own hovercrafts. Now, this street, with its lonely emptiness, filled him with despair. Maybe TAP was right. Maybe humans needed clones to save them.
A shuffling sound drew Kaiden’s attention. A small child wandered onto the street. She stooped here and there to investigate some bit of trash lying in the road. She was barefoot, and her clothes hung in tatters about her thin, little body. Kaiden followed her progress with growing disgust and pity. This is why he had opposed cloning from the start. This child could have been his sister, Rose. All the resources wasted on cloning could have been spent to give the numerous helpless children, like this one, a warm meal and a place to sleep.
Contradictory emotions and beliefs competed inside him. Part of him hated TAP and wanted it destroyed. The other part saw the decadence and savagery of these natural humans caught in a global crisis of their own making and saw no way to save them from themselves without engineering a new, improved species to guide them. Kaiden cursed softly. TAP had even robbed him of his own peace of mind.
A low growl sounded from somewhere. A mangy dog bounded in front of the child, who screamed and tried to run, but the dog was on top of her in two bounds. Kaiden wheeled to shoot the dog, but he was too late. Jade and Birch both fired at the same time. The explosion echoed off the brick walls. The dog yelped and stumbled away from the girl who had buried her face in her hands. The dog tried to hobble away, but Jade’s next bullet dropped it. It fell without a sound. The smell of gunpowder temporarily masked the stench of the city.
Willow rushed to the child’s side and lifted her into her lap. The girl slid her hands from her face and stared up at Willow. The child’s face was stained with layers of grime. Her cheeks were gaunt. The way her gaze searched Willow’s face made Kaiden cringe in pitying revulsion. The child seemed more animal than human. This was the way Kaiden had always seen the clones he transported to and from the lunar field station. Now, it was a natural child.
“It’s okay,” Willow said. “You’re safe.”
The girl wriggled free of Willow’s grasp, jumped to her feet in the ruined street, and whirled to face Willow.
“There is no safe,” the girl said. She bent and picked up a wrapper. She glanced at the dog as if considering how she might eat it and then started toward it.
“Wait,” Willow said. She pulled out one of the packets of food rations the team carried with them and handed it to the girl. The girl studied the packet, grabbed it, and scampered away.
“What the…” Birch stared after the girl, horrified.
The girl hadn’t gone far when another child twice her size jumped from behind an old, rusted hovercraft and snatched the packet from her.
“Hey!” Willow called and sprinted after him. The boy shrieked and dropped the packet. The girl seized it again and scurried away.
“That’s so sad,” Jade said as Willow jogged back to them. “I don’t know how to save naturally born humans, but maybe clones can help stop this savagery.”
“I don’t know if clones would be any better,” Birch said. “If we made clones go hungry and forced them to live in their stinking refuse, they’d behave like animals, too.”
Willow spun on Jade with a snarl. “We need to care for our own,” she snapped, “and to stop wasting money creating people like us.”
“Drop it,” Kaiden ordered. He couldn’t have his team arguing hours before a dangerous operation. Especially not Jade and Willow.
Willow glared at him.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Kaiden said.
Oakley returned, but Willow kept scowling. Maybe she was remembering what Oakley had said about her. Maybe she was starting to feel the same conflicting emotions churning around inside Kaiden’s own chest.
“It’s now or never,” Oakley said. “The airship is ready. Once you have the system down,” he gestured to Flint, “and you do the reset,” he glanced at Willow, “if we get separated, my team will meet you at the command center. Then, we take TAP down for good.”
Oakley’s eyes shone with excitement, just like a little boy on Christmas morning, waiting to open his packages. Kaiden was surprised by the idea. They didn’t celebrate Christmas in TAP. He hadn’t seen a present since he was fifteen. But, he didn’t have time to reminisce even if the memories were still so new.
Kaiden nodded. “Only five, like we agreed,” he said.
Oakley flashed him an annoyed glance. “Of course,” he said. “Now, let’s go while we can. They might change the clearance codes before we get in.”
Willow grabbed Kaiden’s hand and dragged him to the back of the cargo bay where they could sit beside each other. Oakley had arranged to smuggle them in on an old TAP supply ship the terrorists had captured, and the group separated to conceal themselves in the hold among the boxes in case anything went wrong when they landed.
Kaiden caught the warning glance Jade cast him as Willow dragged him away. He shrugged to let her know this wasn’t his idea. He had read the expression on her face and couldn’t help but feel guilty. She had wanted him to kiss her, and he had wanted to, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like he would be using her, and he respected her too much to do that.
Willow pulled him down between two rows of shelves.
“This could be an ambush,” she said.
>
“Oakley?” Kaiden asked.
Willow glanced at him. “No, I was thinking of Noah. I’m not convinced the cloaking software is going to work. He’s going to expect us to come back, especially since he knows that the terrorists helped us escape. He’ll be ready.”
Kaiden considered her. Something about the way she talked about Noah seemed familiar. “Probably,” he said. “Do you have something in mind?”
The ship rocked as it lifted off the pad, and Kaiden had to steady himself.
“I need you to trust me,” Willow said.
“I have been,” he said.
Kaiden studied her more carefully. Willow was a complicated woman. Every time he thought he understood what motivated her, she would do or say something that made him think he had imagined everything he knew about her. And yet, she had saved his life several times now when she could have let him die. They had formed a bond ever since the explosion on the lunar mission. She was smart and capable, always able to be flexible in the face of catastrophe. She was a survivor.
“What are you getting at?” Kaiden asked.
“You just need to be ready,” Willow said. “We don’t know everything about Noah or TAP.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaiden thought it probably meant that he didn’t know as much about TAP as she did, which was true. But it annoyed him that she just wouldn’t come out and say what she had to say.
Willow avoided Kaiden’s gaze. “I can’t say because I’m not sure, and if I’m wrong…” she trailed off. “If I’m wrong, it could hurt you.”
“What if you’re right, and you don’t tell me?”
She gazed at him now with pleading eyes. “You may not like what we find.” She swung her rifle around from behind her and laid it across her lap.
“You’re being cryptic on purpose,” he said. “Not telling me something I need to know is the same as lying.”
She grabbed his hand. “Don’t go to kill Noah,” she said. “Send someone else.”
“Why?”
Tears brimmed in Willow’s eyes. “Don’t make me say it,” she said. “I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong.”