PERSONAL RECORD: DESIGNATION ZETA4542910-9545E
CONSORTIUM TRAINING CENTER ALPHA, ALBANY CITY, NEW TRITON
478.3.1.04
Late afternoon light streamed from the dome overhead, and I angled myself in an attempt to shield the children from the sight of citizens escorting gurneys laden with bodies. Zhen caught my eye and waved from where she waited with Quincy in the doorway of a neighboring dormitory. In the distance, Jordan and Jackson spoke with militia and local law enforcement officers and a tall, burly Elder, while a small crowd peered around militia through the shattered gates.
Three drones hovered over the chaos and destruction. Under them, the Eldest waited.
A tiny boy darted past me to the Eldest, who picked him up and gently patted his back. He rested his cheek on her shoulder, but her eyes remained on mine. “Aberrant.”
I did not answer her. I could not, not when a flush of fear engulfed me, for James was not far behind us. From what distance could she detect James’s jamming device? Yes, Zhen and Daniel had altered the range, but if she discovered our deception, she would take him away. She would pry all the memories she could from his neural chip and then sentence him to a Hall like the one we had left dark. Beyond that, Thalassa’s entire crew would be in danger. She could not miss that connection. I would not, and I lacked her capabilities.
I knelt beside the girl who clung to my hand, pointed beyond the Eldest to Zhen, and asked her and the first novice, “Do you see the pretty citizen with blue hair? The one holding the blue scarf?”
The little one nodded, and the older girl said, “Yes.”
“Go to her. I believe the Eldest wishes to speak with me.”
The novice’s eyes, blue as zircon, studied mine. “Does she?”
“It seems likely.”
“Then you should go.”
I carefully considered my words. “Please tell the citizen—her name is Zhen—to let the other citizens know I must talk to the Eldest, who is over us all. Can you do that?”
“I will.” She took a step, then held out her hand, and the little one took it. The hope that, someday, both would relearn how to smile fluttered through my mind like a butterfly. The novice paused, and her ice-blue eyes met mine. “Aberrant?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
She led the children past me to Zhen, but the little one kept glancing back at me over her shoulder.
Avoiding the future would not change it, so I limped to the petite woman with three drones. She patted the boy’s back again, set him down, and sent him away.
My mouth went dry. “Eldest,” I said. James was close, too close. I needed to move away. “Eldest, I know you carry the weight of us all on your shoulders—”
“A weight you have made more burdensome,” she said, no apparent condemnation in her voice.
“Indeed.” I closed my eyes for a single second. “I have a request—not for myself, but for the little ones and novices. Could we speak elsewhere? I do not want to add to the children’s distress. They are so young.”
She tilted her head to look up at me. “Very well. You and I will walk through the carnage.” She led the way back over the bodies in the hallway. We reached the pillared room, where men and women milled about or stood guard over citizens who knelt with their hands on their heads. The Eldest waved her hand. “Behold, the defiling of our Center.”
Rows of bodies filled the room: Consortium. The attackers. Three marines.
Too many. Bile rose in my throat.
“The deputy prime minister, for all her documented failings and inconsistencies, has agreed to send all Centers for Reclamation and Recycling to dispose of the bodies,” the Eldest said, “though it will take hours to find and collect them from the entire Center, but these will be cleared first. After the citizens leave, I will send Recorders to walk through the destruction and retrieve damaged drones.”
I kept my voice calm. “It is necessary.”
Around us, citizens loaded bodies onto gurneys and platforms, collected casings, picked up broken knives. Center for Reclamation and Recycling workers bore Recorders out, gurney after gurney of red-stained grey. The citizens cast surreptitious glances at the Eldest, her drones, and me. While she watched them, and I watched her from the corner of my eye, they completed that task, then began lifting fallen marines. I wanted to touch Ken Patterson’s arm, to assure him he would not be forgotten. I did not.
“I know what you did,” she said mildly.
A shiver chilled my neck. “Do you,” I said without inflection.
One of her drones settled about her shoulders, as mine had done at university when the stresses of social interaction had surpassed what I could bear.
She kept her grey eyes on the rows of bodies, but a tendril touched the unnatural glow in my right wrist. “I followed you. They found your cane by the southeast entrance where you assaulted Linda Mills-Stern, broke her arm, and shattered three ribs. It is a wonder you did not kill her.”
“As you say.” A pang of near remorse hit me, but Zhen . . . No, I had not erred. “The woman was targeting the people who had run to assist the children.” I drew a deep breath and said, “I confess to acting without any attempt at unbiased documentation.”
A citizen pointedly ignored the drones as he escorted laden hover platform past us.
“I am not displeased.” The Eldest’s classically beautiful profile could have been carved from grey-veined marble. “I decree you acted in defense of the children and of the Consortium itself. I have expunged these actions from the record.”
The hairs on my arms prickled, and my forehead knotted. Had she removed my guilt, or had she tampered with the record itself? “Thank you, Eldest.”
Her smile stretched over perfect teeth. “I believe I understand you now.”
My stomach clenched, and not trusting my voice, I held up my glowing right wrist then touched my hair.
“Do not be foolish,” she said. “I speak of how you put the children above all else. They are our future, and after the . . .” Tension crept into her voice, disrupting her gentle tone. Her drone sent another tendril about her torso. “We are all rejected by the citizenry. Discarded. And so, if I may use a nearly forbidden word, it is our sacred duty to protect those who are younger and weaker.”
My skin flashed hot, then cold. “Who am I to question your verbiage, Eldest?”
She gave a low chuckle. “Indeed. Who are you?” A faint, almost negligible sigh sounded. “Transport will arrive tonight after curfew to take the surviving giftings and the tiniest ones to safety in Centers Beta and Pi. Their Recorders will accompany them.”
“The other ones,” I said in a rush, “the ones with chromosomal anomalies and those requiring constant care. What of them?”
“They are hidden from all save their assigned Caretakers. Citizens who rejected us would surely doubly reject those who cannot function within their”—her voice hardened—“social parameters.”
“They, too, will be safe?”
Her grey eyes bored through me, though to what purpose I could not tell. “I will protect those who cannot protect themselves. This is my calling and my highest—my sacred—duty.”
That particular weight lifted from my heart, and I smiled. “Thank you, Eldest.”
Her browless forehead wrinkled. “You care, then?”
“Always.”
She hummed a noncommittal acknowledgement. “While on Pallas, you activated a drone in an attempt to access a secured area in search of equipment to study Consortium nanotechnology.”
Who had told her? Dr. Clarkson? Had it been part of the record?
My heart pounded. “I did.”
“You used it to kill one of them.” Her drone untwined three tendrils to point to the kneeling group on the opposite side of the cavernous room. “To eliminate one of the people who murdered members of my Consortium.”
“I did not intend—”
“I should punish you. And yet I will not. It was one less citizen”—she spat the term as if it were poison—“who would kill my people.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “Yes, I understand.”
I had no answer as we stood side by side, aberration and Eldest.
“Why do they throw giftings aside for compensation and convenience?” she asked in an undertone. “Why must they hate? It is as if they were humanity’s true aberrations.”
“I would not know,” I answered, belatedly realizing she spoke to herself.
She shifted toward me, and her face remained expressionless. “How did they find out an EM cannon would disable our drones so they could murder my children? Someone betrayed us.”
My heart raced again.
The Eldest’s sudden laughter echoed eerily in the room, slipping between the columns, curdling about the bases.
Moons and stars. Williams was correct. The Eldest was unstable.
“Not you, Aberrant,” she assured me. “I am not unfair. You destroyed one of them. I have expunged that from your record as well. It is a pity you cannot be reinstated, but your other crimes have not been answered. Perhaps you have done more good than I know, but you have not been completely honest, so I cannot tell.”
Keeping my voice neutral, I asked, “You have absolved me?”
“I am not unjust.” She gestured at the emptying hall. “You led citizens to save my children and rescue as many as possible.” She closed her nanodevice-saturated eyes. “One novice here survived the destruction of Sigma. Before that attack, I had planned for her to be an Elder. She showed more promise than you ever did. But after seeing this twice? No, given her father’s identity . . . I am not convinced that the sins of the parents do not extend to their children.” Another short laugh. “After all, look at you.”
I did not know if she told the truth or lied, but cold washed over me.
“We cannot absorb all these children,” she continued. “Not if we are to continue accepting giftings, which is of utmost importance. Our calling is to save them from the citizenry. We shall be taxed to accept gifts, with three Centers gone. Somehow, we must expand.”
“The other Centers,” I said. “The ones here on New Triton, on Ceres, or even the one on Krios Platform Forty-One? Could they not take additional children until Training Center Alpha is rebuilt?”
“The giftings and infants will be prioritized, and after them, I can disperse nine or ten score. And no, this Center will not be restored. My cursory inspection shows crippling, irreparable damage to the nodes that—” She stopped abruptly. “You are no longer privy to such information.”
I raised my face to the ceiling as if I could see through to the underbelly of the Scriptorium above. “It is well,” I said. “Nor was I trained in that sector.”
“Indeed. Nevertheless, I will tell you that Training Center Alpha shall be stripped, and the High Elders wish to sell it. Resources will be allocated to the defense of other Centers and to maintain their ability to take in gifts the citizens discard.”
Invisible bands seemed to tighten around my chest. “What will happen to the remaining novices?”
Her guttural huff pulled my attention back down. “I discussed this with the High Elders, and they were divided. Some suggested putting my children in tanks.”
“In the Halls?” Despite my effort to keep my voice steady, it cracked.
“As you say.”
The image of the vast Halls where we had found the children stretched through my mind, a dark, unforgivable void. “No.”
“You disagree.”
“They have done nothing to merit the Halls. They are but novices and little ones. To do so would be wrong.”
“Yes. Destruction is immoral.” Her grey eyes—all her being—seemed intent on the marines and their prisoners. “So I have dealt with them. There is no place in the Consortium for such weakness of character. They are no longer obstacles.”
Fear dribbled down my spine like melting ice, but at that moment, I remembered Max’s ongoing quest, and unbidden, I again saw his blood on the floor. No, Max’s injury could not be allowed to distract me, not now, but if I could help those like him . . .
“Eldest, as you have said, destruction is immoral.” I stopped. My brazen proposal would surely be as dangerous as suggesting that she send the unclaimed children to tanks.
She waited.
“Some citizens regret their choice to gift.” I licked my lips. “Could the novices, the ones who have no place . . .”
Her eyes glinted like metal, and her voice grew sharp. “Go on.”
“Could their parents be presented with the option of reclaiming them?”
I held my breath. Closed my eyes. Wished I had kissed Nate one last time. Waited for a reprimand to take my life as it must have taken the lives of dissenting Elders.
No drone touched me, so I risked a peek.
She was silent, staring into space, her eyes darting as if in REM sleep.
Afraid to so much as glance at her again, I gazed straight ahead where two men in the green and white of Reclamation and Recycling hoisted the knife-man onto a platform without even removing the blade in his chest. Bile rose again in my throat. The last of the attackers’ remains were hauled away, and the marines urged the prisoners forward.
I could not help searching their faces, and relief hit me. Though Zhen had indicated Nate and Alec had been elsewhere, reactivating power, they were here now. A bandage wound around Alec’s right arm, which seemed unfair after he had already been wounded by these people back on Pallas. Nate’s black jacket was torn or slashed, but it did not glisten with red. His green eyes found mine. I offered him the faintest smile, then looked away.
I tapped my thigh as I skimmed for others. Eric and Daniel kept their eyes down, as they should, apparently focused on the task of half carrying a man whose name I could not recall. Back in the corner, the trio who had first called me Izzy struggled out, the shorter two bearing up the engineer with box braids.
My heart stammered. Where was Cam?
I could not see Cam.
He had not been among the three bodies on the hover gurneys. I had only recognized Ken Patterson. None of them had been my Cameron Rodriguez.
Zhen, Jordan, and Jackson were already above ground. Surely Cam was, too.
“Aberrant.”
I fisted my hands and turned back to her. “Eldest?”
She tilted her head. “It is as if you are more concerned with the citizens than with your future.”
“I am damaged, Eldest, not unintelligent. I do not have a future. My concern is not misplaced.”
A man shouted, “Don’t think I don’t know you and that traitor are working together, Recorder!”
I spun around. Not four meters away, Skip strained against Quincy and Hodges, who held him by the arms. Anger surged.
Why had Skip survived when Ken Patterson had not?
“Don’t think them hauling me off to the mines is going to stop me from tracking you down and carving out your—”
“Be silent.”
One of the Eldest’s drones swooped down and enforced her crisp command. Arms wrapped around Skip like a cage, and tentacles covered his mouth. The drone yanked him from Hodges and Quincy and lifted him into the air. Skip’s eyes went wide.
The Eldest advanced, and as she did, her other two drones interlocked their arms, forming a seat, lifting her until she hovered over him. The drone holding him forced his head up.
“I have searched the records, Xavier Phillip Johnson.”
My breath caught. This was Christine Johnson’s brother? The little boy in the picture?
“I have seen your defiance, your schemes, your machinations,” the Eldest continued. “Your willful murder of my Elder, your assault on this aberration who yet remains my Recorder, and your vicious attacks on the Consortium and my children.”
He made a muffled noise, and though she had no need for any physical cue, she snapped her fingers. A tentacle rose to cover his nose as well. Several of the citizens nearby gasped, but when one of the prisoners protested, the drone holding him lashed a tendril down at the woman and caught her arm. She screamed and dropped to her knees.
Xavier Johnson’s face changed color as he thrashed fruitlessly.
“I said to be silent,” the Eldest said mildly. “I am not finished. You are responsible for coordinating attacks with groups on New Triton, attacks which killed innocents. You destroyed my children.” She leaned back in her drone-chair. “Additionally, you have trespassed on Consortium property to commit these heinous crimes. The AAVA clearly defines our rights in such matters.”
His eyes bulged.
“And therefore, you have thusly submitted yourself to my authority.” A slow smile edged across her face. “You are notified. All shall be recorded.”
Electricity arced. Someone screamed. I clamped my eyes shut and turned my head away.
A thud told me when Skip hit the ground, and the gentle whine of the drones told me when the Eldest returned to my side.
Her mouth had tightened into a thin, white line. “You all have participated in the murder of innocents, all have trespassed on Consortium property. There is no reason I should—”
I dared to touch her arm. Though she turned her metallic-grey glare on me, I could not remain silent while she murdered more people. “Eldest.”
She studied my face. “You are correct. Citizens, step away. I will remove them all.”
“What?” My horrified exclamation echoed back at me from the pillars, as if it were not mine.
“Do not be concerned, Aberrant. Their punishments are recorded. They would be removed from all they know, forced to pay off a debt beyond their ability to meet, their families burdened beyond repair, and yet, I choose to spare them that fate.” The Eldest’s soothing voice shredded my nerves. “Behold, I am merciful.”
Her drones left her side. Several marines made a futile attempt to protect their prisoners, but the drones punished them until they fell, gasping, to their knees. The drones lofted the prisoners as marines fought to pull them free. Alec grabbed Nate to prevent him from running forward. Shouts, screams, curses—all faded to eerie quiet. Ozone and the scents of urine and blood tinged the air.
Waves of nausea hit me.
“You were correct,” the Eldest mused. “Justice, mercy, and our sacred duty.”
The nausea intensified. No matter what she said, I was nothing like the slight woman beside me.
The Eldest waved a delicate hand. “Citizens, your service to my children has excused your presence, and you are allowed to remain on the premises until the last of my children are safe. Take your own with you.”
Nate began to protest, but I interrupted. “Nathaniel, please. Go.”
They left, taking the wounded with them. I kept my eyes on the ground, unwilling to place any of them at risk by garnering attention from the woman who readily eliminated those who displeased her.
The last of my friends left the room, and I was alone with the Eldest. An industrial bot growled its way across the floor.
Her drone caught my right arm and raised it, and I did nothing to pull away. It rolled back my sleeve and tapped the pale lines left by the implant in my wrist.
The Eldest simply said, “Do not forget I am tracking you.”
I dropped to my knees, the pain of landing on the concrete floor a welcome diversion.
“Aberrant.”
I looked up.
“Come.”
I pushed myself to my feet and hobbled to where I had dropped my damaged cane. Splintered by the impact on the now-dead woman’s torso, the raw wood mocked my need for support. I braced one hand on the wall and followed the Eldest to the Scriptorium then the front gate.
My consolations were that the children were well and Nate was unharmed, for the Eldest did not tolerate deviations. And despite her claim, she had no mercy.