Sister of Shadows, page 10
Humphrey’s very accurate guesses irritated her. “You can’t expect me to let Dr. Carlhagen keep her.”
He clamped his lips together, then sighed. “No. But he is using her to get to you.”
Jacey knew that, but it made no difference. Even if she didn’t go after Livy, Dr. Carlhagen would eventually contact her. Somehow. And then Jacey would be forced to give in to Dr. Carlhagen’s demands. He’d want all the Scions back on campus, and he’d want Jacey in the hacienda, wearing a dress and scanty underthings and . . .
Jacey shivered and banished the thought. “It’s better for me to go after him quickly, before he can prepare.”
“But you don’t even know where he is.”
“I’ll find him. There are at least seventy Progenitors out there. One of them has to have a way to contact the old man. I just need Captain Wilcox to get me off this island. Today.”
Humphrey caught her arm and turned her toward him. “I swore I would never wear that stupid white suit again. Don’t you know how it makes me feel? To pretend to be him?”
Jacey let him vent his frustration. Her mind was made up. “This isn’t about you, Humphrey.”
“You want me to ask Captain Wilcox to sweep you off into danger, on a mission I completely disapprove of. What kind of idiot do you take me for?”
Jacey tried to loosen her fingers, which had curled into fists. “Don’t lecture me,” she hissed. “You’re more upset about having to put on Dr. Carlhagen’s suit than me leaving.”
“That’s not true! How could you say that? Just saying that proves—” He turned his head away and picked up his pace. His legs were longer, forcing Jacey to race to keep up.
“I’ll see you in Dr. Carlhagen’s office,” she said, and fell into a trot. She ran the rest of the way to the hacienda. Humphrey wouldn’t run to keep up with her because that would make it look like he was chasing after her.
In the walk-in closet of Dr. Carlhagen’s bedroom, she found three dresses. Mr. Justin had told her the headmaster had intended to surprise her with them.
She shook off a wave of unease at the memory of how the old man had touched her shoulders, the way his warm fingers had lingered against the skin of her neck as he’d clasped on a necklace.
She chose a dress at random and yanked the protective cover from it.
“What the—?” The entire garment sparkled like red stars. Squinting, she slid a hand over the odd fabric. It was covered with thousands of shiny red discs. She tossed it away from her. No way was she going to wear anything that red or that short.
She grabbed another dress. This one was black and sheer, but it seemed more suitable even though it was far too long. At least it would cover most of her legs.
In a few seconds, she’d slipped out of her uniform and put on the gown. Despite the plunging neckline and dinky little cap sleeves, it fit perfectly. Contorting herself to zip it up produced a string of curses, but she managed it. No way was she going to ask Humphrey to help her.
The silky black fabric draped over her hips and swept to a pool around her feet.
It was going to get dirty real quick, but she didn’t know how to prevent it.
A stack of shoeboxes stood on the closet floor beneath the remaining dress. She figured one of the pair of shoes was meant to go with the dress. She rejected two pair that had precarious stilt heels. The third pair were flat-soled satin little nothings that looked like ballet slippers.
She decided to keep her Scion uniform shoes, which were more durable, more comfortable, and would be much more suitable for running, if the need arose.
She went to the bureau, pulled open a drawer, and flung aside the dainty underthings Dr. Carlhagen had insisted went better with her gowns than her standard-issue ones. She certainly wasn’t going to need those. At the bottom of the drawer was the necklace Dr. Carlhagen had clasped around her throat during an excruciating dinner just days before. She left it there.
She checked the mirror, surprised to discover how the gown aged her, made her more . . . womanly. That was the only word she could come up with.
She hoped the gown would help her to blend in. She absolutely couldn’t wear a Scion uniform out in the world.
Her Shark pin sparkled on the collar of her uniform top. She removed it and turned to the mirror. With a strange sense of sadness mixed with pride, she pinned it to the bodice of her dress. It didn’t quite go, but she wanted it, wanted that connection to the Scion School as a reminder of where she’d come from, and of the family that she’d sworn to protect.
Most of all, it reminded her of the day she’d received the pin. The very same day Livy had arrived on campus.
A door thunked down the hall. Humphrey going into his room to change. At least, she hoped he was changing. It’d be a real challenge to talk Captain Wilcox into coming for her without his help, and he couldn’t do it dressed as a Scion.
Jacey shook her hands at her side, trying to shed her weird mood, and hustled down the hallway to Dr. Carlhagen’s office.
Less than a minute later, Humphrey swept in wearing the top half of Dr. Carlhagen’s white suit, but still wearing his Scion School trousers. It didn’t matter. The holodesk cameras wouldn’t pick up that part of him if he stayed in his chair.
He didn’t look at her as he went to the seat behind Dr. Carlhagen’s great mahogany desk. Heaving a huge sigh, he said, “Where do you want Captain Wilcox to take you?”
“Elizabeth’s island. I’m going to tell Elizabeth that I’ve been transferred, but that I did not have a good cover story in place because I transferred early. Mr. Justin said that Elizabeth had offered to help Janicka with the same problem. It never happened because . . .”
She didn’t finish. Humphrey already knew Janicka’s fate.
“Beyond that,” she continued, “I want to see if Elizabeth’s island will be a good place for you to take the Scions.”
“Me?” His face snapped toward her, blue eyes drilling into hers. “And what about you?”
“I’ll be trying to track down Dr. Carlhagen and Livy. You’ll have to get everyone aboard Aphrodite and out to sea as fast as you can. Elizabeth will have a holodesk. I’ll contact you on the boat and let you know whether Elizabeth’s island is safe or not. I got the impression from Mr. Justin that it’s a very quiet place. And even as a temporary stop for the Scions, I think it’s best to get them off the boat as quickly as possible. Once Senator Bentilius’s forces realize no one’s here, they’re going to begin searching all the boats in the area.”
Humphrey gave a grudging nod. “Let’s get this over with.” He put his palms flat on the desk. “Captain Wilcox.”
It took a while for the captain’s holovid to appear above the desk. Even as a 15-centimeter-tall image, the man intimidated Jacey. She stayed out of view of the holodesk’s cameras, but sat close enough to see the grim expression on the soldier’s face.
“Good morning, Dr. Carlhagen,” the man said. He stood rigid, with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Ah, Captain Wilcox, good to see you. I need you to come to St. Vitus.”
Humphrey was putting on his Dr. Carlhagen impersonation, which always spooked her because it was so perfect.
He continued. “I had a Progenitor arrive for an early transfer due to an illness. It was quite an emergency. Unfortunately, her cover story isn’t well developed and she needs some assistance in preparing the way back into the outside world.”
“And where do you want me to take her? The range of the helicopter isn’t that great.”
“Elizabeth Burnell’s island. She has offered to assist Progenitors who find themselves in such predicaments. Do you think your aircraft has the range for that?”
Captain Wilcox smirked, as if responding to a bit of sharp sarcasm. “I think it will make it, sir.” There was a wry quality to his response. Jacey had the impression the soldier thought Humphrey was making a joke.
“How soon can we expect you, captain?” Humphrey asked. He let his eyelids fall into a haughty, bored expression. He was done with this conversation and he wanted Wilcox to hurry up.
Jacey had to admire the performance. He certainly knew how to play Dr. Carlhagen. And even though Humphrey didn’t want Jacey to leave, he put on a show even Madam LaFontaine would’ve approved of.
Captain Wilcox managed to stiffen his posture even more. “Give me thirty minutes. As always, I have the helicopter fueled and ready to go. I’ll muster the pilot. Do I need to bring the full contingent of soldiers?”
“No,” Humphrey said, “You don’t even have to get out of the helicopter. The Progenitor will come to you, and you’ll recognize her by her clothing.” Humphrey’s gaze ran up and down Jacey’s gown with great disapproval.
“Very well. Captain Wilcox out.” The hologram disappeared.
Humphrey slumped back in his chair, hand immediately going to his bowtie and tugging it loose. “There, it’s done.”
“Thank you. I know how hard it was.”
“The problem is that it wasn’t hard at all. I’m too damn good at it.”
Jacey went behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest, and kissed his cheek. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take, but trust me, I will find Livy. And we will find a safe place for the Scions.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” His hands rose to cover one of hers, pressed it to his heart. “This is a dangerous game. Once we leave the island, we won’t be able to see any of the pieces on the board.”
Jacey had no answer for his worries except to kiss him again. He swiveled the chair and drew her into his lap. His hands wove into her hair as he drew her down for a longer kiss.
A cough startled them both.
Leslie stood in the doorway, face grave. She held up a reader. “The network is down. Madam LaFontaine won’t come to the studio mirrors. Chax isn’t on any of the security panels, and Newton won’t come to the holodesks in the classrooms.”
Jacey tried to summon Vaughan on Dr. Carlhagen’s holodesk. No response.
“Dr. Carlhagen must have shut down the network before he left,” Jacey said.
“But how?” Humphrey asked. “The servers are not in the medical ward.”
Jacey bit her thumbnail as worry began to churn in her mind. “Maybe he gave a command through Chax’s security terminal. What I don’t understand is why he’d bother.”
“To put us at a disadvantage when the security forces arrive,” Leslie said. “Now we can’t use the network to communicate with each other.”
Humphrey shrugged. “That doesn’t make sense. He knows we have walkie-talkies.”
Jacey walked around the holodesk and looked out the window. The red roofs of the Scion School shone beneath the blazing sun. It looked like any other day on campus. Nothing gave any indication that everyone’s fate lay in the balance. “Maybe Dr. Carlhagen meant it to be a distraction, to make us waste time looking for the AI servers.”
“Maybe,” Humphrey said.
“Why are you dressed like that?” Leslie asked.
“I’m going to scout a location for the Scions. Captain Wilcox is picking me up.”
Leslie’s brow furrowed and she stood in the doorway, as if she planned to keep Jacey from leaving. “That is stupid. You’ll get caught.”
“I’m not going to debate my plan with you.”
Nostril’s flaring, Leslie looked about to rush at Jacey. But instead, she spun and stormed out.
“She’s not handling this well,” Humphrey said. “I think she’s trying so hard to be like Belle, but she’s just too scared to pull it off.”
“She’ll be fine once you’re out to sea. Will you come with me to the bell tower while I wait for the helicopter to come?”
“Do you really have to do this alone?”
“Yes.”
Jacey smoothed the skirt of her dress and took a last look around the office, as if searching for some item she couldn’t do without while off the island. There was nothing.
It was time to go.
But now that it came to it, she hesitated. As terrible as her fate would be if she stayed, she had no promise things would be better off the island. She recalled a saying Socrates had often repeated: Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
She’d never understood the phrase until this moment.
But then another of Socrates’s sayings popped into her mind. An answer to the fear the first one produced. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
In thirty seconds she was out of the hacienda and striding down the path toward the quad. Humphrey walked with her, silently. But his dread was louder to her than any shout.
“This is going to work.”
He took her hand and gave her a fake smile. It was the best he could give her, she knew. But she needed so much more.
22
People as Tools
The roar and vibration of the helicopter’s engines lulled Dr. Carlhagen into a state of exhausted relaxation. It magnified the effects of the andleprixen Mr. Justin had slipped him. Still, he fought to keep his eyes open rather than slip into numb oblivion.
And that was because everything was wrong.
Even with his painkillers, his body ached from the beating that Scion had dealt him. At some point he’d have to contact the boy’s Progenitor.
He’d have to say the boy’s death was an accident.
He dragged his thumbs over the slip of paper Senator Bentilius had handed him in response to his question about why she had killed her guards. She had received the note from Mr. Justin, slipped under her door. It included all the same business about being ready to leave at the sound of the choppers. But there was an extra line at the bottom, scrawled in a different color ink—red—and in a hurried hand: Your guards have been talking.
Senator Bentilius’s actions made more sense in light of the note. But the note itself bothered him. Why would Mr. Justin tell her about her men talking?
What was Mr. Justin playing at? The question would have driven Dr. Carlhagen mad, except he had yet another issue to deal with.
Senator Bentilius kept glaring at him and Livy.
The girl sat on the floor, hugging her knees, back pressed to the hatch door. The cramped compartment quickly grew sour with sweat and the acrid tinge of engine exhaust.
Senator Bentilius’s mood hung over it all, like the constriction one feels upon entering a room and interrupting an argument between two friends. Dr. Carlhagen had experienced many such moods, often of his own creation. Rarely had he been subjected to it by others.
The woman sat very still, icy blue eyes fixed straight ahead. She’d drawn her hair back so that the headset could better cover her ears. A smear of blood streaked through her snowy locks, stark as Tinlon’s slashed throat. She hadn’t gotten all of it off her hands, it seemed.
Occasionally she spoke, but so softly Dr. Carlhagen couldn’t hear the words. An intercom mic jutted from one side of the headset. She had to be speaking with the pilot on a separate channel. Probably giving him directions.
The woman had mutinied on him. She hadn’t even asked his opinion about going to St. Lazarus.
On most navigation charts, including military ones, the island of St. Lazarus appeared as nothing but a tiny green blip in the sea. Nothing special. All databases listed it as uninhabited, too small to sustain any sort of community. Which was true, except that once the new Scion facility was up and running there, regular supply boats would import all the necessities for survival.
But why the hell did Senator Bentilius want to go there?
Puerto Rico was closer and offered more luxurious accommodations, no questions asked. And if that was too high-profile, the Virgin Islands—the parts that hadn’t been washed away by the asteroid tsunamis forty years earlier—were even closer, and would provide more convenient headquarters to oversee the invasion of St. Vitus.
The only reason to go to St. Lazarus was to inspect the construction or to manage the startup of the facility. The only other reason he could think of was to hide.
And there it was. Senator Bentilius couldn’t go anywhere until she’d laid new groundwork for her entry into the world. He didn’t know how many people in her organization knew about the Scion program, but none of them would be ready for her reappearance as a slender, icy blond girl of seventeen. She’d have to contact them, one by one, and get them prepared.
She’d already told him she wouldn’t be returning to politics in any public way. No doubt she intended to pull strings from behind the scenes. And now it all made sense.
The strings she intended to pull were the ones Dr. Carlhagen himself intended to pull.
Whoever controlled the Scion program controlled everything. If only she knew how much leverage he had.
His gaze drifted back to Livy. She stared straight back. Her earlier defiance was gone, replaced by a chilling curiosity. If the girl had been ten years older, the look wouldn’t have given him pause. But in the eyes of a nine-year-old, the stare was downright creepy.
He jumped as the senator’s voice blared in his ears. “We’ll make good use of her.” He fumbled for the volume control on the right side of his headset, twisted it down a few notches. The senator must have switched comm channels again.
He thumbed the transmission button bulging from the headset cord. “Yes. Threatening her will subdue whatever rebelliousness remains among the Scions. And without shooting any more of them.” He threw a dark look at the guard. The man either didn’t hear him or just ignored him.
“That’s not what I meant,” Senator Bentilius said. “I was thinking that since the cryopods are ready and the medibots have all been checked out, we could use this girl as a guinea pig.”
“She’s too old. The pods are intended to start the infants.”
Livy seemed to sense they were speaking about her, for her eyes tracked their conversation. Dr. Carlhagen knew she couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the engine, though it wouldn’t matter. Livy certainly had never heard the terms “cryopod” or “medibot.”
