28

LIFE, DEATH, AND SECOND CHANCES

THE SUN IS hot on my face as I float on the softest surface imaginable. I’m lying in a pool of water, lights dancing off the top like joyful sprites. I’ve never felt so at peace.

“Do you miss home?” I ask my sister, who is floating beside me. Shae flicks a few droplets toward me, and I let my feet submerge, to tread water.

“Sometimes. I miss you and mom.” Her arms moving gently beneath the surface. “And Sauer. It’s not really about the place—it’s about the people you leave behind.”

I study my sister’s perfect features—the clear blue eyes and the wet, blond dreadlocks plastered to her glowing cheeks. “Did it hurt?”

“Dying?” she asks. “Not really. It hurt to separate from the life I knew and loved, but this one isn’t so bad. You can be anywhere you choose to be. Like here.” She waves a hand, sending a shower of gold-tinged droplets flying in a shimmery arc above us. “Death, like anything else, is a state of mind.”

I hesitate before asking the question that’s making my stomach churn. “What if your state of mind isn’t… like this? What if you think you deserve less?” Much less.

Shae smiles sadly, her fingers reaching out to me. I stretch forward to take her hand, but she fades and disappears. The water grows cold and dark and, suddenly, I’m locked in a damp, musty cave. My fingers curl around the rusty bars caging me within the rock. I cry out, but no sound escapes my lips.

A shadow flickers in the darkness beyond the metal slats. It’s a girl, one who looks so familiar. My brain is fuzzy, but I think I used to have that face. Maybe I even used to be her once. She has burning yellow eyes. Large, glowing orbs that scorch into mine. She approaches the bars, humming softly, and when her fingers push past to close around my throat, I welcome the pain.

“Hold her down; she’s coming out of it!” I hear someone yell from far away. It sounds like my voice, but I know it can’t be. I don’t have a voice.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest!” another person shouts.

I scream until my throat is sore. Air is forced through my lungs and something heavy is pressing onto my chest. I jerk upward, trying to buck it off, but the pressure is relentless. It feels like I’m covered in fire ants, each taking hungry bites from my flesh. My entire body feels like it’s coming apart, bones and blood crumbling into tiny fragments. My eyes flutter open, drawing me out of my nightmares.

Shae was wrong. Death isn’t a state of mind. It’s all-consuming and unending. It’s agony.

When I open my eyes, I’m in a sterile white room, and I’m not alone. There’s a boy in the corner lying on a cot, his hair falling into his face. I recognize him immediately, or something deep inside me does. There’s a chemistry between us, something intangible linking me to him. I wonder if I’m still dreaming.

I take a breath, feeling a sharp ache radiate through my body. I look down and start to hyperventilate. I’m encased within a silver capsule from neck to toe. I close my eyes and reopen them—the capsule is still there. I take in my surroundings bit by bit. The capsule is suspended inside a glass box cut off from the rest of the white room—quarantine—with monitoring screens everywhere. I flex my fingers. Pain stabs up through my hand and into my chest. Everything hurts, even breathing. I inhale slowly, focusing on each breath before releasing it slowly. It hurts a little less. But at least the pain tells me one thing—I am alive. And I’m not dreaming.

Someone comes into the room and I feel a tear leak from my eyelid at the sight of her face. She enters a second, smaller glassed-in room off of the main area, and then enters my room once the decontamination process is complete. Harsh lines etch the corners of her eyes and her mouth, making her look far older than when I last saw her. Her lip wobbles a little as we make eye contact.

“Mom,” I murmur. The syllable scorches a path up my throat, making me wince.

“Easy,” she whispers gently, holding a container up to my lips. “Here, sip some of this. You’re still healing.”

“Wh-at happened?” I croak. A wave of dizziness hits me. I want to ask so many questions about the capsule and why I feel like I’ve been dragged naked across the Outers by a hoverbike. “Feel… funny. Caden… okay?”

She presses a hand to my forehead, consulting a tablet, before entering something on the monitor above my bed. Something cool floods my body and the sharp edge of pain recedes into something more bearable. “You need to rest, darling. You’ve been through an ordeal, one that most of us would never have survived. Caden is fine. He’s slept in here for the past few weeks, refusing to leave.”

Weeks? I swallow hard. Images flicker through my brain—Cale, Bass, Caden, the hangar, Reptiles, Vectors—but I can’t make sense of them. They’re too chaotic, out of sequence. “Tell… me.”

Aurela pulls a stool from under the capsule and sits beside me, her hands fluttering against my hair. Her soft touch is comforting and I want to lean into it. I close my eyes, and breathe in her scent instead. “What you did was so very brave, and so very foolish. Detonating that weapon when you didn’t know what it would do to you…”

I remember the last moments—the look on Caden’s face and the one on hers—before I pressed that button. And then there was only darkness. “Every… body safe?”

“Yes. The weapon worked as the Avarians said it would. Everything electronic shut down—all the Reptiles, all the Vectors, and all of our systems. Including you. Your heart shut down. So did Bass’s. But you were our priority. You and Rila.”

I’m glad she’s safe. I’m alive because of her. I remember how I’ d had to restart her heart. She’ d had a fifty percent chance of survival. The odds would have been the same for Bass. “Is Bass… dead?”

Aurela smiles a little sadly. “Yes. Sebba and Cale, too.”

I feel a brief spurt of remorse for the two boys who had once been my friends. In the end, they’ d become monsters. It’s funny how something small can twist you until you break inside. They’ d both been damaged beyond repair. “And Enola?”

“She suffered severe burns, but she’s going to make it. And Inka is fine. They’re all asking about you.”

I blink and swallow hard, wanting to ask the question, but not wanting to at the same time. I don’t want to care about him, but I do. “Danton?”

“Your father is gone.”

“To… Otherworld?”

My mother nods. She looks like she has more to say, but offers me the cool drink instead. I sip it gratefully, feeling it soothe the sting from the effort of speaking. I’m not surprised that my father took off—he has always been about self-preservation. Unless, that was the old Danton. Aurela was right—maybe he changed. “Why?”

“He said he had unfinished business.”

Something clicks in my brain. “Era Taylor safe?”

Aurela’s fingers close over mine. “Era Taylor died two weeks ago, Riven. Her body couldn’t handle the stress any longer. Her son, Philip, is now the Chancellor. He’s rebuilding from the ground up, as are we.”

Philip? I want to laugh, but I know it’ll hurt something fierce. Philip is better than nothing, and hopefully he’ll have Charisma at his side. At least she has a brain. Era Taylor wouldn’t have gone quietly. Once she realized what the Vectors had done, she would have taken measures so that she couldn’t hurt anyone else. It’s the hallmark of a true leader. I say as much to my mother, and she nods. “That is what I believe, too.”

I shake my head, flinching. “Philip… asshat.”

She laughs. “He’s not so bad. Sometimes people need a little challenge to rise to their full potential.” Her hand finds mine and squeezes gently.

“So what’s”—I gasp through the words and stare pointedly at my metal housing—“with my new outfit?”

Aurela smiles, stroking my fingers. “You’re sure you want to hear this now?” I nod and she continues. “When you set off the weapon, you were in bad shape. After the nanobes were deactivated, your entire body shut down for several minutes. For all intents and purposes, you died. When we resuscitated you, your body went into massive shock. Unlike Rila, the nanobes are bonded to your DNA, so when they failed, your body tried to repair itself and couldn’t.

“We forced you into an induced coma to keep you alive. Week after week, we tried all we could to rebuild your cells. Everything failed. Your father”—she rakes a hand through her hair, her expression conflicted—“he was the one who saved you.”

“You said he left? How?”

“He was here the whole time. He left the minute you started responding to the genetic therapy. He built this,” she says, waving a hand at the contraption holding me in place. “It’s an advanced auto-transfusion machine. It was something he was working on in secret with Rila. It salvages your living blood cells and recycles them back into you.”

I stare at the capsule. I’m not sure what it means, or why I’m not healing as I normally do. I frown, missing the connection between what I know and what my mother is explaining. “So, the nanobes aren’t rebooting?”

Aurela stares at me. “There’s nothing to reboot. The weapon destroyed them. This machine is teaching your body to self-repair and survive without the nanobes.”

My mouth drops open. “I thought that wasn’t possible.”

“We learned a lot from the Vectors.”

“Vectors?”

“It was a collaborative effort,” she says. “We stripped you down and reverse engineered your DNA sequencing with specific nano-gene targeting. It was part of Sebastian’s research, and how he was able to synthesize your DNA.”

“Sebastian,” I repeat dumbly.

“Bass,” she corrects. “He isolated your nanobes like a mutation, making them inoperative, and was able to knock in and knock out specific variations to develop a strain that was compatible with regular human DNA. We did the same with an artificial DNA construct, introducing new self-replicating gene technology to replace what we took out.”

My brain is working, trying to keep up. “You cloned me? My blood, I mean?”

“Yes. We used artificial plasmids as a vector in your molecular reconstruction.”

“Are you saying that… I’m human? Like full human?”

“The short answer is yes, for now. The long answer is we don’t really know.”

My mind is racing. It feels weird not to have the nanobes rushing around inside of me, responding to my every thought. I feel… strangely vulnerable.

I tell my mother and she smiles gently. “Welcome to being human.”

I swallow hard. “When do I get out of this tin coffin?”

“Soon,” she promises. “Now, you really do need to rest. Your stress levels are skyrocketing, probably because you’re trying to process all of this information. Perhaps I should have waited until you were stronger.”

“No, I needed to know. Thank you.”

Aurela stands and types in a sequence on the monitor. This time, a different colored liquid fills the plastic tubing and dissolves into the metal cylinder. I watch my mother’s face until it fades into a soft palette of rosy color. My eyelids droop heavily, and I give in to a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I wake again, I’m in a different room, this time without the glass box. My body is wrapped in sterile cloth, but I’m in a bed and no longer confined by the silver capsule. My ever-faithful roommate is slumped in a chair by my side. Caden looks as haggard as I feel. His head is resting on the bed near my hand and I thread my fingers through the soft strands of his hair. He shifts and looks sleepily at me, his head snapping up when he realizes that I’m staring back at him.

“Hey,” I say. Brilliant green eyes catch and hold mine, making something like butterflies take flight in my stomach.

“You’re awake.”

“When did I get out of the tin can?” I say with a half smile.

“A few days ago.”

“I was asleep the whole time?”

Caden turns his face and presses his lips into my open palm. The soft, warm sensation makes a host of tingles take off in my chest. “It was safer to keep you sedated during the transition. Plus, I like watching you sleep.” I snort. “You know, it’s my special brand of creepy-sweet. You’re kind of like my own Sleeping Beauty.”

My breath hitches at the tender look on his face. “Doesn’t Prince Charming get to kiss her awake?”

Caden’s eyes flare at my words, but he shakes his head with a quick look at the doorway. “I’m not sure I’m allowed.”

“You’re the Lord King; you make the rules. Plus, if you don’t, I’m not going to be accountable for my actions.”

He leans over and brushes his lips over mine in a kiss so tender that it makes my toes curl. I want more, but he pulls away, and looks at the door again. “Your mother’s out there, and she can be really fierce where you’re concerned.”

“Wimp.”

“When it’s Aurela? Totally. Your mom scares the bejeezus out of me.”

I laugh and stare at him, drinking in his features—the way his eyes catch the light, the stern lines bracketing his lips, his half-crooked smile. “She said you stayed with me the whole time.”

“It was touch and go for a while there. I thought I was going to lose you, but your father… he simply refused to let you go.” Caden pauses, pulling a slim tablet from his pocket, his expression growing serious. “Speaking of Danton, this is for you. You should know that he turned himself in to the Faction.”

“He did what?” I say, dumbfounded, staring at the device. “What is that?”

“A message. Want me to read it to you?” Caden asks, and I nod as he clicks on the device. “It says, ‘Riven, I had one promise to fulfill before I destroyed the synthesized strain of your DNA Sebastian created. The nanobes had one more purpose—to help your friend’s sister. I hope you understand that in my own way I do care for you deeply. You were never my weakness. You were always my greatest achievement. A flawed, hopeful father, Danton Quinn.’” Caden re-pockets the tablet and looks at me. “That’s it.”

Truth is, I don’t know what to feel about my father’s message or what he’s done.

I’m mostly grateful that he helped Charisma’s sister, knowing that he broke all kinds of Faction laws to do it, but maybe Charisma and Philip will cut him some slack now that he’s in their custody. Danton will find a way to survive. He always does.

I guess I was wrong—some people can change. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him, but maybe that’s something I can work on, too.

“How are you feeling?” Caden asks. “Now that you’re almost back to yourself.”

I shrug. “Not totally. I don’t have special abilities anymore, you know. I won’t be able to protect you as well. You could probably beat me in a sword fight now.”

Caden laughs, the sound bright. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting forever to be able to do that. Finally, a silver lining.”

“Cade, I’m serious. I’m ordinary now.”

Caden leans over, pressing his lips to each cheek, my nose, and then my lips. “For the record, you are not, and will never be, ordinary. You will always be extraordinary whether you have a body full of tiny little nanobes or are made of flesh and blood. Surely you know that by now.”

I lick my lips, seeing his eyes darken, marveling at the power we hold over each other. I swallow hard and decide to tackle the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. “What about the alliance? Inka? You’re kind of engaged.”

My question is eclipsed by a sudden commotion. “You have visitors,” Aurela announces. She smiles at us before warning Sauer, Inka, and Enola not to overexcite me. I bite my lips to stop from laughing at Caden’s mock terrified I-told-you-so look.

“Hi,” I say to them.

“Hey, yourself.” Sauer grins. He’s dressed in his commander uniform. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. You look official.”

“Supervising the rebuilding of the city. It’s insane how much damage rogue Reptiles and Vectors on a mission can do. But, not to worry. We citizens of Neospes are tough and it’ll take a lot more than that to bring us down.”

“What about the people hiding in the Peaks?”

“Safe and sound,” Sauer says. “Thanks to you.”

“Not all me,” I murmur.

I look at the other visitors, Inka and Enola, and force a smile. Caden hadn’t responded about the alliance. The Avarians are dressed in Neospes gear, but they still look as intimidating—and stunning—as they did in their own city. The scars along Enola’s arms and neck are raised and angry looking, but she wears them proudly, like badges of honor.

“So, when’s the wedding?” I joke weakly, staring from Inka to Caden.

Inka laughs. “That’s what I tried to tell you when we were outside the hangar. I don’t want to marry your king.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” she says, linking hands with Enola. They share an intimate look, and everything makes sense. Oh. Inka smiles. “I see you understand. Enola is… my other half. My father never understood this. He saw her as a slave, as someone common born. But she was always so much more to me.”

I let her words sink in. “You’re not marrying Caden?”

“I would have for my people, but no, I would not want to marry him when my heart is elsewhere.” She smiles gently. “Plus, I think it’s obvious that he is in love with someone else.” Inka smiles fondly as Caden tugs on my hair. “I wish you both well. Neospes will always have Avaria’s help whenever she needs it. And your people can come to us for sanctuary at anytime. I offered this to your king, but he refused.”

Caden nods. “I choose to rebuild. Our city is a great one, too. With Avaria’s help, we can become strong again.”

“Riven,” Inka says, bowing to me as if I’m the queen and she’s the servant. “It has been an honor, and I do not say this lightly. You are truly one of a kind.”

I laugh weakly. “Not anymore.”

Inka approaches me, her face stern. “Not because you were a cyborg, but because you are you… always putting others before yourself, always doing what needs to be done. Even with me, I knew you were predestined to hate me, yet you still put my life above your own. That’s not technology, that’s heart, and you have more of that than most humans.” She leans in to embrace me, kissing both my cheeks. “I am in your debt for saving Enola’s life.”

“Thank you.” Overwhelmed, it’s all I can manage to say.

“You must visit us again,” Inka says brightly. “We will have a feast to end all feasts. I will see you again, my sister.”

The sound of the word doesn’t cause the pain I expect. In a strange way, I do see some of my own sister, Shae, in her—I see it in the proud strength of her shoulders, in her gentle touch with Enola, in the fierce determination of her eyes. I accept her gift in the way in which it was offered… in love and friendship and sisterhood.

“I will see you soon… my sister,” I agree.

After they take their leave, Caden sits beside me on the bed. I study him, a smile playing on my lips. “Are you relieved not to have to trade your virtue to save Neospes?”

“My virtue?” he sputters, and then realizes that I’m joking.

“You aren’t the first royal to be married off, you know,” I tease. Caden silences me with his lips, kissing me until I’m breathless. When we pull apart, we’re both flushed and panting hard. I touch his face, my thumb memorizing the curve of his cheeks and the sweet arch of his lips.

“What are you thinking?” he whispers against my fingers, kissing them.

That I love you.

“That I want to see the sunrise,” I say as the first light of Neospes dawn creeps through the windows of my room. “Will you take me over there?”

Caden is careful, hooking one arm under my knees and the other bracing beneath my shoulders. I wrap both my arms around his and bury my face in the crook of his neck as we walk to the window. We are on the top floor of the medical facility, one of the only buildings that remains standing. Instead of taking in the still-smoking rubble inside the dome, I look beyond it. I look to the sun rising in the distance.

The brilliant red sphere peeks above the horizon, setting the Outers awash in hazy, dazzling waves. Its gold-tinged crimson fingers reach everywhere, chasing away the shadows in the darkness, and bringing radiant light to everything in its path. I thread my fingers through Caden’s hair as we watch the Neospes sunrise together, setting everything in its reach on fire. His lips find my temple as another day begins fresh, beautiful, and unsullied.

My name is Riven.

And I live in a world of infinite possibility.