Chapter Twenty-Five

“This flight’s a lot longer than the flight to Region Two,” I said to myself.

Michael’s closed eyes fluttered, and his chest noticeably expanded as he took a deep breath. “Sorry, I fell asleep. I wasn’t much company.”

“That’s okay. I already had my nap. It was your turn to get some rest. Look,” I said pointing out the window. “The moon’s following us.”

“Cassie, the moon doesn’t—”

“I was kidding. My mom used to tell me that when I was little. When you look out the window from a moving car, it looks like the moon’s following you. Didn’t you ever notice that before?”

“No, you don’t notice something like that when you’ve spent most of your life on the fourteenth floor of a two-hundred-story building.” He sighed and stretched into a yawn. “You still think about your mom a lot, don’t you?”

“Every day.”

Michael set his hand on top of mine.

“Hey, I think we’re flying over Sector Nine,” he said as he looked out the window. “Clear to Region Three and then back to Region Two. We’re certainly doing a lot of backtracking, but it’s working. If they were on our trail, they would have grounded our flight.”

“Or they could be waiting for us when we get off.”

“Hopefully not. We’ll find out in a few minutes.”

The terminal was empty, with the exception of a handful of late commuters. There was a light breeze cascading against the landscape, and Michael had to brush his hair with his hand several times against the current of wind to keep it in place.

Australia looked exactly like London—tall metallic buildings and crisscrosses of roads with oval- and egg-shaped cars and buses either parked, hovering, or in flight, following the lines of the road below. I didn’t see Sydney’s famous Opera House at the water’s edge looking like an alien ship with its concrete sails, but I didn’t bother to ask him about it either. Just like Big Ben, I’m sure it was gone, making this city a clone of the one we just left.

“It’s 6:20 p.m.,” I said, as I glanced at my L-Band before examining the evening sky.

“It’s hard to keep track of the passing hours when we’ve been in three different time zones.” He readjusted the tote strap on his shoulder, put his hands on his hips, and took a whiff of the night air. “It’s a strange feeling.”

“What?”

“Not being connected to the system. It’s disabling in some ways, but in another way, I feel so liberated, free. It’s a type of independence I’ve never felt before.”

“I know exactly what you mean. My L-Band never made me feel like I belonged to the thirty-first century. I always felt like an intruder on an invisible leash. Besides, my L-Band made everything too convenient. I wasn’t used to that,” I said, staring at the moon and deactivating my band for the time being. “I like this feeling. It’s called freedom. It reminds me of home.”

We hastened to the next terminal on our itinerary, four blocks east, and three blocks to the north, in order to catch a hoverbus back to London before returning once again to Australia. I shivered. “We’re in a different season, too. Our summer is their winter,” I said, looking down at my short-sleeved shirt and Michael’s T-shirt. “I wish we’d had more time to prepare for this.”

“We’re mentally prepared, and that’s all we need.” He smiled, and the golden specks in his blue eyes became visible as we passed under an obscura-free light post.

We shared the sidewalk with three additional couples and a handful of stray commuters who also chose to hurry against the sharp wind. The others were dressed more appropriately than us, but no one seemed to notice. He visually checked every pole and sign, fixed or hovering, for obscura lenses, like he did every time we were on foot, but again, he didn’t see any. Magnum’s schematics were accurate and up to date. So far his diligence kept us safe and undiscovered.

“That’s the terminal, Michael.”

The terminal was busier than I expected. Small groups of travelers stood huddled together and lone shoppers stood or sat with metered grocery bags or compact, bag-loaded carts floating next to them.

There were two PATs on patrol. One had his hind wheel down, chasing a small dog that had managed to get away from its owner, while the other one stood at attention, watching a row of passengers descend from a bus that just arrived. It approached people at random and scanned their bands.

Michael pointed to the illuminated numbers on the front of the hoverbus at the north end of the terminal. “Check the map. Is that our flight?”

“Yup, and a line is already forming. Let’s break up like we did before and get in line,” I said, reactivating my L-band.

Nodding and walking forward, he waited until there was a sufficient distance between us before making his way toward the grounded hoverbus.

Trying to look calm and ordinary, I casually looked behind me to see where he was in the crowd. Crap. I ended up in the middle of the line, but he was last. An unsafe position while his band was inactive.

From his frown, I could tell he was angry at himself for not reaching the line before the two women in front of him. He scowled and rotated his jaw as if he was chewing a wad of gum. A gray-haired man with stiff legs and an equilibrium cane walked toward the back of the line but was called to move to the front and board first due to his disability. Darn.

The driver was a middle-aged man, and the porter was also human. Darn again. Unlike bots, a human worker was more likely to notice if the bus doors started to close before Michael reached the first step.

The seat I chose was an empty bench near the back and next to the window. Geez, Michael practically rode the back of the lady in front of him. She felt his unnatural proximity, and turned to look back at him, but he only smiled and then pretended, I think, to trip as the woman entered, so he could bump her forward with his chest, temporarily making them one person according to the bus’s sensors.

The door slid, but he turned in time to squeeze through without being pinched.

“Wow, I’ve never seen that before,” said the porter, a tiny, bald man with an extra-large mustache.

“Yeah, that’s never happened to me,” said Michael. “You need to get that door checked. I could have been killed!”

Good job playing the role of disgruntled passenger and blaming the hoverbus’s sensors. It worked, bringing an apology from the porter and easing the man’s suspicion.

“Well, I don’t know about being killed, sir,” said the porter, “but you might have gotten a nasty bruise on your shoulder.”

Michael tapped the screen of his L-Band and reacted as if it responded perfectly to his commands. “Well, it’s not my L-Band.” He proceeded down the aisle without further interaction.

He took up a row to himself directly in front of me. There wasn’t a wink, smile, or nod between us. He kept his arms crossed and his head down. Something had happened to make him memorable, and I didn’t want it to make me memorable, too.

“I see you’re from Region One,” said a girl directly across the aisle from Michael. She gave a nod in the direction of Michael’s band and flicked her brunette hair from her shoulders. Her red L-Band and comparable accent to Travel’s told me she was not only from Region Three, but she was also a born—if that’s what you can call it—and bred Australian.

“Yeah, Region One, Sector Three,” he fibbed. If my memory was correct, Sector Three was Canada.

“Visiting family?”

“Yeah.”

The girl paused, waiting for him to ask her the same question in return, but he didn’t. He stared at the floor instead.

“I was visiting my cousins. I used to live in R3, S9, but now I live in R2, S5, D11. Have you been there before?” the girl asked in a barely distinguishable Australian accent.

“No.” His answer almost made me laugh, considering that we were in Region Two, Sector Five, Division Thirteen—London—less than three hours before.

“Oh, well, if you want someone to show you around, I don’t have any plans or anything when we arrive.”

Oh my God. Are you kidding? Why don’t you go put some shrimp on the barbie and eat a vegemite sandwich while you’re at it, Aussie girl, or should I say, “Sheila.”

“No, actually, I’m going to be really busy with my family. I won’t have time for any sightseeing. Thanks, though,” he said with a blush.

Good answer, Michael, but I shouldn’t be so mean. He was a total hottie after all, and she was just doing what I never could—starting a conversation with a cute boy. Besides, it wasn’t like he was my boyfriend. My jealousy said I’d begun to forgive him and at least wanted to get closer.

“Oh, okay.” Miss Australia was defeated. She left a few minutes later, strutting down the aisle toward the bathroom.

When the porter was preoccupied, I leaned toward the back of Michael’s neck and whispered. “G’day, mate.”

“What?”

“Nothing, um, this flight should be short compared to the others. We’ll be off in less than half an hour according to Magnum’s notes.”

He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “I’ve been calculating the hours in my head. We’ve been traveling for about seven to eight hours total. That means it’s between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m. in L.A.”

“That sounds about right,” I said, moving closer to the window to survey the night sky and the flickering surf below as the porter moved down the aisle.

He nodded and smiled at everyone he passed, but when he got to me and the empty seat next to me, he asked, “Traveling alone?”

“Yeah. One of my friends is getting married this weekend.”

“You mean next weekend? Today’s Sunday. The weekend’s almost over.”

“That’s right. I meant next weekend. I’ll be there for the whole week.”

“Congratulations to your friend,” he said, and smiling, the porter walked away, but I didn’t like the way his mustache twitched when he turned to leave.

“Now we are both memorable,” I whispered to Michael.

Through lips that barely moved, he responded. “It’ll all work out.”

The terminal was more crowded than it was the first time we were there, making it easier for us to blend in with the commuters. He kept his distance from me until Little Miss Aussie ended her flirting with a final “goodbye” and a wave before disappearing into the crowd.

It was strange. We were in Australia, but the people didn’t sound like true Australians, their accents being too weak. In London, it was the same thing. Was it the result of being able to travel from one region to another in just a few hours? Whatever the cause, I was glad there was still enough diversity in their cadences for my twenty-first-century ears to hear them.

“Now where do we go?” asked Michael, still blushing. The Aussie was probably the only girl, besides me or a tier two GenH1 employee, who ever flirted with him.

“Terminal Three. Over there,” I pointed.

But over there was a place we didn’t want to be. Two PATs stood at attention while three patrol officers directed a small crowd of people into two parallel lines. Now it was the PATs’ turn to scan L-Bands with their built-in readers. All passengers who approached to board our next flight were asked to make a third line behind the other two, and everyone with a stroller or carrying a baby was immediately escorted into a fourth line where they were questioned and scanned.

“Michael, what are we going to do? Our flight leaves in five minutes. If we don’t go over there, we’ll miss it, but if they scan your band, you’ll be caught.”

“And if I’m caught, I can’t take you to…um.” He surveyed the terminal, his lips pursed. “We need a distraction. Follow me.”

“Are you crazy?” I whispered as we joined the third line.

“No, not yet. You’ll see, I think.” He nodded toward the lady in front of us who was holding a white and gray spotted cat in her arms. He fumbled in my bag and produced Victoria’s magic pacifier, holding it in his open palm. The synthetic nipple throbbed and clicked, sending the cat into a hypnotic state of desire, and me into a rekindled state of want for my baby girl.

“Simon owns an overweight Persian cat named Tom. One day when we were working in the lab, he told me about Tom’s favorite toy, a baby’s pacifier. Watch this.” He snickered and flicked the pacifier like a bottle cap, sending it into a crowd of passengers twenty yards away.

The cat leaped from its owner’s arms. “Oh no, my cat. Someone help me!” the woman shouted. Three additional screams followed as the naughty kitty darted between the legs of two women who were standing within inches of the clicking pacifier. Both PATs lowered their back wheels to make the chase.

“Go, now,” he said, darting toward the first line of scanned passengers who were already boarding the bus. Michael pushed me three passengers ahead of him, creating a bit of distance between us, and we made it down the aisle and into two empty benches across from each other in the rear.

The flight back to Australia seemed longer than the first, especially since we pretended, once again, to be strangers. After our quick escape, my adrenaline was high, keeping my heartbeat strong and my nerves on edge, but after a nap, we were finally back in the land down under.

“I need to check out the map again,” I told him after we unloaded at the terminal and he jogged up to my side. “There’s a park. We can make a pit stop there.” I pointed to a large patch of grass with a hoveryard in one corner.

Two unsupervised children in the hoveryard bounced weightlessly on plastic animals with exaggerated, cartoon-like faces. One waved to me, and I waved back, before we sat down on a bench, and I suddenly missed Victoria all over again.

I unrolled the E-Paper and examined it, regarding Magnum’s personal notes and instructions. “It’s not far. We’re at the edge of Division Three, Subdivision One, and Travel’s brother lives just down the street in Division Three, Subdivision Two.” Melbourne, Australia, was the twenty-first-century translation. “I sure hope he’s home.”

He looked up at the sky and held out his hand as if he was trying to catch a drop of rain. “He should be. If I’m remembering correctly, Sector Nine is eighteen hours ahead of L.A. I’m guessing it’s around seven thirty in the evening here.”

“You’re spot on,” I said, looking at my banded wrist.

After studying the map, Michael and I walked through and behind several subdivisions, or neighborhoods, following footpaths that kept us from the obscuras aimed at various angles and at the houses clustered in each block of land. Travel’s brother’s house, 2-27, was the last home on the end of the street, and being last, it was set slightly farther apart from the others on a larger parcel of land.

My anxiety level doubled. “Magnum should be there waiting for us, and he’ll have Victoria,” I declared, my voice breaking as I was overcome by the thought of my sweet girl.

“He said he’d be watching for us. That doesn’t mean he’ll be there the minute we walk through the door, so don’t be disappointed.”

From a field behind the back fence, we could see the back door clearly. A pair of boots layered in fresh mud lay next to a dirty shovel on the back porch. Two birds, mechanical ones, I might add, sat on a metal perch, twitching their wings above an overturned self-watering dog bowl.

“It looks like he’s home. Are you sure he’ll help us? Travel and his brother kind of grew apart.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he will. I read his profile. He works at the local power plant. He’s a low-wage earner, but his worker’s benefits earned him the use of this house and a hovercar. And here’s the interesting thing. Last year he filed two complaints against his employer for privacy breaches. He thought the company was trying to brainwash him. Now he’s labeled a non-conformist with paranoid tendencies—just the guy we need right now. Come on. Follow me.”

The back gate opened easily. “There’s an obscura,” I said as I skirted behind a pair of trees.

“Magnum said that the houses in this section of the region were part of the first development, which means that each home has an independent security system, one that can be turned on or off by the owner. That’s another reason why we decided to ask Travel’s brother for a safe place to stay.”

“If Magnum’s not already here with Victoria, we’ll need to tell Trail to turn off the outdoor obscuras.”

Magnum and Victoria better be there. The anxiety of not knowing was driving me crazy.

“And I know how to do that.” Michael bent down and raked his hands across the dirt at his feet. “I’ll throw rocks at the door. That should activate the birds.”

“You mean those robotic things?”

“Yeah, those robotic things are a doorbell. They’re called Whimsy Birds. They were popular about five years ago. The fad didn’t last. They were too noisy and irritating…”

“Unless you’re a guy who thinks the government’s trying to control you.”

“Exactly.” Michael pitched a handful of pebbles at the door.

“When he comes out, I’ll call him over. I’ll try not to let him speak until I get a blocker under his L-Band.” Michael handed me one of Magnum’s L-Band inhibitors.

“A guy with his track record might be on high surveillance even if they don’t suspect he’s going to help us. We’re kind of taking our chances with him, but he’s the best one we’ve got right now.”

“Okay, I’m ready,” I said, slipping out from behind a tree.

Another spray of pebbles set the birds into a squawk that made my ears ring with a clamor of metal wings reminiscent of a possessed pinwheel. Within minutes, the back door opened and a man stepped onto the back porch. He immediately noticed me and my signal to stay mute, a “shhh” with an index finger parallel to my mouth.

When he was close enough, I grabbed his wrist—no L-Band blocker—meaning Magnum wasn’t there yet. My heart dropped as I slipped the disk under his L-Band. “Now you can talk.”

“Wow. I must be dreaming because it’s been a long time since a pretty girl tried to get my attention.” He laughed.

“I wish it was a dream.”

It was cold. A thick cover of clouds filled the sky during the last half hour, bringing a sprinkle of rain that could be felt as the wind picked up. “Well, if it was a dream, it’s over now.” Trail frowned as Michael made his appearance. “The pretty ones are always taken.”

“We need to talk to you. Can you please turn off your outdoor security system, just until we get inside?” He was puzzled, but he stepped backward, almost tripping as he entered the back door. “And don’t remove the chip under your band,” I added.

After Trail leaned through the doorframe and shut off the alarm, he waved for us to join him on the porch. “Don’t tell me you work for Region Control,” he said as we entered a small living room with slick, white walls and beige, boxy furniture.

“No, far from it,” said Michael. “I’m Michael Bennett and this is Cassie Dannacher.” Michael offered his hand for a shake. Trail hesitated and then took it.

Trail’s hair was light blond, almost white, with eyebrows and eyelashes to match, causing his pale-blue eyes to pop above his cherub-like cheeks and broad nose. I held my gaze and added a smile.

“We’re friends of your brother,” Michael added quickly.

“As long as you’re not from Region Control,” said Trail. “When I came home from work, I found my dog dead in his bed. German Sheppard named Elk. The poor boy was half blind and could hardly walk, but he was still the best guard dog ever, even better than those damn birds out there. I took care of him the old-fashioned way. Buried him right out back less than an hour ago. I thought my neighbors saw and reported me to the region.”

Way to go, Trail. I liked this guy already even if he hadn’t been Travel’s brother. He was very short, shorter than me, and wide enough to take up half the couch he was offering us to sit on. It must have been difficult for him to grow up with such an attractive, athletic brother, especially with Travel having enough charisma for the both of them.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about your dog,” I said.

“Thanks. He was old, it was his time. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but damn it’s tough. I’m sure going to miss him,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sorry about your dog,” added Michael.

The gnawing intensity of our journey, the pressure, the fear, the close calls with the PATs and porters, a dead dog, and the knowledge that Magnum was not here waiting for us were enough to unbalance all of my stored emotions. Suppressing my tears was futile. Once my lower lip started to quiver, forget it.

“What’s wrong? Does it have something to do with my brother?” Trail asked me when the first tear dropped.

Michael spoke first. “Yes, it does.”

“Is he okay?”

“Actually, he’s…”

Michael didn’t have to finish his sentence. My tears and Michael’s eyes held the answer.

“No, I don’t believe it. Someone would’ve contacted me. I’m his only next of kin. I’d be the first one notified.”

“Not when the government’s involved with his death,” said Michael.

We told our tale from the beginning, the very beginning, although Michael didn’t disclose our final, secret destination.

During our bizarre story, Trail nodded and his eyes blazed with anger toward the president and the Van Winkle Project’s false promises. Never once did he slip into a state of denial or disbelief. He cried when we reached the end of our account.

Michael said, “You couldn’t have helped him, but you can help us now, please, and in doing so help Travel’s daughter. We don’t have anyone else to turn to. We trust you.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll do anything for my brother’s baby, the mother of his child, and the man who tried to help him.” Trail wiped his red eyes and snorted against his palm.

Where were Magnum and Victoria? I stared out the back window for the umpteenth time, hoping to see him slipping through the yard with my baby bundled in his arms.

“I don’t think your house is under surveillance, at least not yet, or the authorities would have been here by now. But by tomorrow, that could all change. Magnum told me that a basic surveillance upgrade could be ordered by the team and installed by a bot in just a few hours. How many obscuras do you have on your property?”

“One at each door, front and back, but there aren’t any obscuras inside the house. In fact, they just sent me a message today, saying they’re going to send a crew to complete the necessary system advances.”

“When are they supposed to be here?” asked Michael.

“Wednesday.”

“Good, that gives us two days before—”

“Then Magnum needs to get here before then,” I interrupted. “He should have been here by now. Maybe he’s been caught or knows the authorities are on their way here and doesn’t want to risk having to hand Victoria over to them.”

“I don’t think so,” answered Michael as he joined me in looking out the window. “They don’t know our current location. If they did, we’d be sitting in a detainment facility. Magnum’s just being extra careful. He’s probably watching the house and waiting for the right time to act.”

Trail lifted his hand and looked at his altered band. “So do you think they’re trying to listen to me right now?”

“I’m not sure, but we can’t take any risks. Keep the disk in for the rest of the evening so we can talk freely, but tomorrow you’re going to have to remove it and go about your normal routine in order to avoid any suspicion.”

“You also can’t tell anyone about Travel,” I added. “Not even the made-up story about the hover accident.”

“Okay, what else do you want me to do to help?”

Michael licked his lips and straightened his back against the chair. “There’s a man I need you to contact for me. His name is Saul Whittaker. He’s a Region Three, GenH3 employee. We worked together for several weeks last year. He’s a pilot and my transportation guide.”

Transportation guide to where? This was obviously the point where Magnum’s plan ended and Michael’s began. We needed Saul to fly us to our final, secret location.

“Sector Ten is not going to be our final stop.” Michael smiled. “Sector Ten has minimal security compared to the other sectors. They’d be less likely to look for us there but not unlikely. We’d still be fugitives, trying to fit in without working L-Bands and looking over our shoulder every minute. But once we reach this alternate location, they won’t be able to find us, let alone bring us back to one of the regions.” Michael’s smile grew.

“Alternate location?” asked Trail. His teary eyes widened.

“I think it’s time to tell you, Cassie.” He squinted and the depth of his eyes glistened.

“Where are we going?” I urged.

“Tasma.”

Trail reacted first. “Tasma? That’s not a real place.”

Tasma—the subject of Kale’s playground song and sarcastic remarks from Dr. Love.

Michael leaned across the table, his eyes sparkling. “It is real. I know it is because I’ve been there.”

Trail clenched his hands. “I knew it. Those bastards. There’s another damn government cover up for ya.”

“Wait.” I said. “So where’s Tasma? I don’t understand.”

“It’s an island off the coast of Sector Nine.” Which meant it was an island off the coast of Australia.

Trail interjected, “And it’s not supposed to exist.”

“And it doesn’t exist. At least not on any map, not even the ones Magnum gave us. Only a handful of people know the truth. The less people who know about it the better. That’s why I had to keep it a secret until now.”

“But how can the government keep something like an island a secret?” I couldn’t imagine the existence of an entire island being kept in confidence back in 2022.

“It’s easy. The open sea south of Sector Nine is restricted due to high winds, whirlpools, high surf, tornadoes—you name it. But all of that’s just a lie to keep people away.”

“How come they don’t want anyone to know about it?”

“Well, it was once one of the dead countries. After the plague, the new government believed that the island’s inhabitants either left and returned to the mainland or stayed and died out, but it turned out that the country was never really dead. Apparently, there were enough rebellious, young survivors to stay and form their own government, a government severed from the rest of the world and Liaison One.”

“But they were infertile, too. How could their society survive?” I asked after another peek out the window.

“At first they couldn’t. Within ten years they were on the verge of extinction, but the remaining citizens refused to leave. They decided that they would rather die on their homeland than come under the control of the new-world regions.”

I couldn’t blame them for that.

Damn it! What was keeping Magnum so long? Where was my baby? Taking a deep breath didn’t calm my nerves.

“And I’m sure the forefathers didn’t want that, in case the mainlanders found out,” said Trail. “That could have started a revolt.” He smiled mischievously.

“Exactly. The forefathers were afraid that if the public knew about this small population surviving and building their own democracy, then more citizens would try to overthrow the new government or pull away from it to form their own bands, inspired by the success of the people already doing it. The Earth had just lost over half of its population from a terrible disease. Life was too precious. The forefathers didn’t want to punish or destroy the inhabitants of Tasma for their defiance, so their solution was to keep them happy and turn them into a distant memory, a made-up place.”

“But they needed clones,” I added.

“They did. So the forefathers made a deal with the islanders. They brought them baby clones once a month to replace the elderly who died, and in return, the islanders agreed never to leave their island or try to contact or recruit others from the three world regions. Over time, the island was erased from every map and obliterated from the memories of the survivors of the plague.”

“So if this place is so top secret, why were you allowed to go there?” I asked.

“Well, when the regions recently became desperate for fresh DNA, the three presidents met and decided it was time to take a census of Tasma. Another geneticist hypothesized that some of the people who resided there might be able to reproduce. The presidents wanted to see if this was true, and that’s where I came in. As a physician already handling your case, they felt that I was the only person qualified to take random fertility sampling.”

“And?” I asked with minimal hope.

“They are as infertile as any clone.”

“How many clones live there?”

“Less than fifty thousand.”

“And you said Tasma’s south of Sector Nine?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my gosh. Tasma. It has to be Tasmania.”

“What’s Tasmania?”

“It’s one of the islands of Australia, but during my time, it also had its own government. It was its own state just like it is now.”

Trail pursed his pale lips. “So why do I need to contact what’s his name, and what do I say?” he asked.

“Saul’s one of the ten who know the truth. He’s the only pilot whose flyer is not equipped with blockers to keep it away from Tasma. He stayed with me while I collected samples and examined some of the men and women, acting kind of like my assistant.” Michael continued, “I need you to call him and tell him that you’re from GenH1. Tell him it’s a code 42/147 and that you’re calling on my behalf. This code not only identifies the destination of the flight, but it also tells Saul that he’s not to contact anyone, not even me, for verification or further instructions. His flight plan won’t be registered, and his plane won’t be tracked or monitored by Liaison One.”

“So that’s where we’re going to live, Tasmania?” I asked.

“Yes. The population will welcome us. They trust me, and I made many friends. I’ll admit that the buildings are older than what we’re used to, some are hundreds of years old, but they’ve all been maintained. They have electricity, plumbed water, and many of our conveniences with the exception of Liaison One. There are no L-Bands, and most importantly, the residents live in a democracy, managed by an ancient constitution that’s very similar to the one before the plague.”

That meant Tasma had the resources needed for Michael and me to restart a Van Winkle Project on our own.

“So we can develop and start a program on our terms?” I asked.

“Yes, and we’ll begin an organ cloning program, too. They’ve been doing transplants the old fashioned way, using a donated organ. But an organ from a clone doesn’t have much life left in it, making their mortality rate higher than that of the regions.” Michael gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “But you and Victoria won’t have to worry about that.”

“But what about you?”

“Like any clone, I have a 30 to 40 percent chance of needing a transplant in the future, but I’m not concerned about it. I’ll take my chances.” He gripped my hand tighter, a sign that there was no point in arguing with him. “You’ll like it there. Before my first trip, it was described to me as what the world was like one thousand years ago. You’ll feel right at home.”

“Will we be able to contact Shen-Lung and Tupolev from Tasma? We need to let the other presidents know Gifford plans to deny them of fertile females.”

“To coordinate the delivery of baby clones, the Prime Minister of Tasma has a direct line of communication with the presidents.”

Trail wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. “Michael, when do you want me to call Saul Whittaker?”

“Tomorrow morning at nine. Tell him he’ll need to meet us at ten. He’ll know where. One hour should give Cassie and me enough time to make it to the pick-up location.”

“But what if Magnum’s not here by then? I’m not leaving without Victoria,” I said.

“We won’t leave without her. I have faith in him. He’ll be here before then. I know it,” said Michael.

Travel showed us to a guest room, and after Michael and I took turns taking showers, we lay side by side on the bed, my ears eager to hear the opening of a door or the sound of footsteps—anything to indicate that Magnum was finally here.

Michael hadn’t dried thoroughly before getting dressed. His black T-shirt clung to his chest, and his thighs below the hem of his boxer briefs were damp. I picked at a loose piece of thread poking from the seam of my cotton pants, and from the corner of my eye, watched his abdomen rise and fall with each breath.

He rolled onto his side to face me, and when his knee touched my thigh, I inhaled through my nose to disguise my reaction, a pleasant heat shooting through my chest. As his fingertips brushed against my cheeks, I arched my back and welcomed his kiss.

With his hard shoulder against one hand, and my other at the back of his head, our kissing intensified. His lips trailed the length of my neck, and he drew one leg across mine as I bent one knee and lowered my leg to meet his.

When his mouth moved to my collarbone and the bit of shoulder not covered by my shirt, I pushed against his arm, and he lifted away from me, his forehead glistening with perspiration. Rising up on my elbows, I sat up and raked my hands through his hair. Even with my wacked-out hormones, it was hard for me to stop.

“We can’t,” I said, dropping back to the bed.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself when I’m this close to you.” He lay on his back, with bent knees and his hands laced behind his head.

I stared at the ceiling, and as my breathing slowed, I thought about rescuing Victoria, and the rows and rows of S.T.A.S.I.S. capsules resurfaced in my mind.

“You didn’t tell me there were more like me,” I said, trying to keep my voice from rising.

Michael didn’t say anything, but I heard him exhale through his nose.

“How many are there?”

“Sixty-two,” he finally admitted after a long pause.

“So why am I the only one who…?”

Michael sat up and frowned. “Because you’re the only female who survived the awakening.”

I gasped, rising to sit next to him.

“I tried, I really did,” he continued. “I tried to revive them all, but I failed. You were the only one who survived the fluid replacement and cell repair. I saved you for last, hoping that by then I’d find a solution to the problem. I just wanted you to live so badly.” He turned to meet my eyes.

“Then the other women are dead for good?”

“Yes.” A deep sigh dropped his shoulders.

“How many?” I groaned.

“Before I was old enough to join the program, there were two teams trying to bring them back to life. There were thirty-seven pre-menopausal females in total, but by the time I came along, only seven of them were left, including you.”

“Wait. This doesn’t make sense. If the program started before you were a doctor then…then how long was I here before I was awakened?” My heart jerked in my chest.

“Cassie, don’t ask me that now. You have the Van Winkle files. You can read them later, and then you’ll know everything.”

“Just give me the number, Michael. How long was I there?” I demanded.

“Thirty-one years,” he said so softly I could barely hear.

“Thirty-one years?” I shouted.

“Please, don’t be angry with me. Remember, I’ve only been involved with the project for five years, and I didn’t want to awaken you, or any of them, until I knew all of you would survive.” He reached for me, but I pulled away. “And finally we did it. We regenerated your cells and filtered your blood. Your heartbeat was strong and steady, and—”

“Then it’s no accident that I’m here. They knew I was in that warehouse, that we were miraculously still hooked up to an energy source, didn’t they?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I didn’t tell you at first because I was following the plan, and then after, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. I knew it would upset you. I wanted to protect you from the things you didn’t need to know. You’ve already been through enough. I planned to tell you everything once we made it to—”

“Don’t! I don’t want to hear it,” I said, flopping back against the bed.

Thirty-one years. It wasn’t a coincidence that Travel was a twenty-year-old clone in the year 3035. They reinvented him especially for me. Bastards!

“So what’s going to happen to the ones who are left?” My tone was desperate but bordering on demanding.

“Simon’s saving them in case he finds a use for them in the near future. He refers to them as ‘fresh DNA.’” Michael lowered to his elbow next to me. “And there’s something else.” He licked his lips, and his chest expanded with a steady breath. “Your grandfather is one of them,” he said quickly.

“What? Are you sure?” I asked, twisting to face him.

“I’m sure. Each chamber was opened and resealed, so the team could retrieve the paperwork inside. We needed ages and the causes of death. Marshal Miles Dannacher is one of them.”

It was as if time stopped. I couldn’t blink, only stare. I couldn’t speak, only think. My grandfather was here. Besides Victoria, he was the only person on the planet with whom I was genetically connected. But he was frozen, in a state between life and death, stored like a time capsule.

Full of worry for Victoria and too mentally spent to argue and ask my questions, I turned away from Michael and closed my eyes.