Sister of Shadows, page 5
“Back there, when you stopped me from going into the medical ward to help Humphrey question Dr. Carlhagen. You reminded me of who I am. What my principles are.” He kept his eyes ahead, but his lips pressed hard together and Jacey saw something unsettled in his profile, in the way his nostrils flared.
“Dr. Carlhagen deserves to die,” Jacey said. “He deserves worse. But not while he’s in Vaughan’s body.”
After a long pause, Sensei said, “Many people deserve to die. So many I doubt I’ll live long enough to enjoy justice when it finally comes.”
“Does one enjoy justice? Isn’t that really just revenge?”
Sensei laughed and nodded in concession. “You always draw such fine distinctions, girl. Perhaps when this is all over you can be a lawyer or a philosopher.”
Jacey settled herself deeper into the chair. “When this is all over? We don’t even have a place to go yet.”
They didn’t even know if they could get off this island.
7
Our Beloved Headmaster
Humphrey typed the numbers into the keypad next to the steel door in Dr. Carlhagen’s wine cellar. His breath heaved from running up the path. His heart slammed with anticipation.
Nothing happened.
“Read the numbers to me again,” he ordered Tytus, his voice booming under the arched concrete ceiling.
Tytus rolled his eyes. “Three two four seven five one eight one.”
Humphrey pressed the plastic buttons on the keypad and waited.
“Maybe you need to press the red or green one afterward,” Tytus suggested.
Humphrey tried the code two more times, but nothing happened. “I should have known the old man would lie.”
Tytus lowered his reader and studied the keypad. “Maybe he just remembered it wrong. This doesn’t seem like a place Dr. Carlhagen would come very often.”
That was one explanation, Humphrey supposed. Tytus was a bit naïve, though. Not his fault. He hadn’t been directly involved with the old man and his manipulations and cruelty. “I’ll have to go back to our beloved headmaster and see if he realized his mistake.”
Humphrey glanced up to the shadows above the wine racks behind him where his reader leaned against the wall, camera facing the door. He’d left it there a few days ago, hoping that Mr. Justin would come to the room.
He considered taking it with him but decided against it. There was still time. If the room held anything important, he was sure Mr. Justin would make a move to collect it. When the time came to leave for once and for all, Humphrey would come down and grab it.
“Let’s go, Tytus.”
“Are we going back to see Dr. Carlhagen?”
“No. Let him stew for a while. He knows he gave me a bad code. He probably wants me to come running back so he can gloat over his tiny victory.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Let’s head down to Boys’ Hall and make sure everyone is ready to depart.”
Tytus started for the stairs. Humphrey followed along, running his hand along the wine racks, wondering if the senator’s contingency force would ransack the place.
Probably. He hoped it gave them the worst headache of their lives.
8
Aphrodite
The murmuring among the Scions in the back stilled as the bus emerged from the thick canopy of the rainforest and into the clearing around the docks. Soft cries of amazement filled the bus as the Scions spotted the boat. Though Jacey had seen it before, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it.
“It’s humongous,” Bethancy said breathlessly.
Sensei gave a soft laugh as he turned the bus onto a concrete pier jutting into the bay. The boat’s rusty hull towered above them like the face of a steel cliff. “This old scow is nothing. Wait until you see a tanker or a cruise ship.”
“What’s that machine on the other side?” Tytus asked, pointing to a truss tower angling over the pier. Cables ran up the structure and dangled from a pulley at the top. A hook hung from the cable, so heavy it barely stirred in the stiff wind coming off the sea.
“A crane,” Jacey said. “It’s going to lift the bus onto the boat.”
Sensei brought the bus to a stop between the crane and the boat. The Scions tumbled out the door, all pointing and shouting at once as they took in the boat. Jacey smiled wanly at Sensei as she stepped down the stairs and onto the concrete.
The boat stretched forty meters along the pier; the top deck rail was ten meters above. Ropes as thick as Jacey’s arm drooped from round ports in the side and curved where they wrapped around iron bollards embedded into the concrete. The hull pressed tight against the pier, cushioned by orange, balloon-like bumpers mashed between steel and concrete.
When Jacey had first come to see the boat, she’d walked to the very end of the pier and looked back at the rear of the vessel, expecting to see the motors. She’d been surprised to learn from Summer that they were internal to the boat, with huge propellers deep underwater jutting from the end of the keel. But she’d discovered something else there. The ship’s name in block letters, each as tall as she was: Aphrodite. The Greek goddess of love and beauty. Jacey doubted they could have selected a less appropriate name.
Far aft, an aluminum gangway ramped from the pier into to a gaping hatch in the hull. The boys raced toward it, but Sensei whistled them to a stop. “Conrad, come help me rig the bus hoist.”
“Do you need my assistance, too?” Jacey asked. “I’d like to go speak with Summer right away.”
The martial arts master glanced at the bus. “I need spotters on deck for when we lift the bus. Could you guide Kirk and Dajeet up there and give Dajeet the walkie-talkie?”
Jacey beckoned to the two Scions and headed for the gangway. Bethancy and Conrad stayed to help Sensei rig the straps and chains under the bus that would then connect to the huge iron hook dangling from the crane. The idea of lifting the entire bus onto the boat still made Jacey queasy. Summer had assured Jacey that the crane’s steel cable could support the weight. It made no sense, but Jacey trusted Summer’s judgment. Besides, Orson had obviously used the machine to get the bus off the boat.
She guided Dajeet and Kirk into the dark interior of the boat, wrinkling her nose at the heavy smell of oil and diesel fuel that hung in the passageway.
Jacey scowled at the dingy plastic-paneled walls and ceiling. They’d probably been white in some distant epoch, but were now a urine-yellow. “Watch your step,” she cautioned as she stepped over a puddle of hazy water.
“This is . . .” Dajeet’s tone carried the gist of what she left unsaid. Disappointment. Disgust.
Kirk let out a huge sigh. “Can you guess what Sensei will be making us do while we’re at sea?”
“Cleaning,” Dajeet said.
The passageway narrowed in the distance. It spanned the entire length of the ship. Jacey took the first door to the left, where a companionway climbed to the upper decks. Their footsteps rang on the metal-grated staircase as they ascended, and the air freshened the higher they climbed.
Pushing through a swinging door, they came onto the top deck. Jacey squinted against sunlight glancing off the steel decking. Behind her stood a blocky structure Summer called “the bridge” which held the controls for piloting the boat. Metal-grated platforms stuck out from the side of the bridge, giving a view down to the deck fore and aft.
Directly ahead, the deck lay mostly empty, except for a smaller hoist mechanism mounted to the deck itself. To the left and right were rectangular hatches in the deck. Once opened, cargo could be lowered by the hoist into the cargo holds.
“Doesn’t look like these sailors have ever heard of paint,” Kirk said. “I’d be embarrassed to let things fall into such a state.”
Jacey and Dajeet both glanced at him. Kirk had never been known for neatness.
“Sounds like you just volunteered for painting detail,” Jacey said smiling. She meant it as a joke, but Kirk nodded and breathed deep through widened nostrils. The look was so serious she had to laugh.
Amazing how a few days of crisis could mature a person. And Kirk had transformed more than most. He’d gone from being the boy who helped hold Jacey down during Belle’s “punishment” with the thornskipple to being one of the more dependable and thoughtful Scions on campus.
Jacey handed Dajeet her walkie-talkie. “Tell Sensei you’re ready. I’m going down to talk to Summer.”
She left the two Scions at the rail, looking down at the pier and the bus. Sensei, Conrad, and Bethancy had already gotten it rigged.
Shielding her eyes, Jacey studied the bridge, but glare on the windows kept her from seeing inside. She doubted Summer was up there, though.
A quick hike down the stairs and then aft led her to the engine compartment. The space was as big as the Scion School’s dining hall, but with a ceiling so low Jacey had to duck to keep from smacking her head on the leg-thick pipes mounted to the ceiling. The sound of cursing, punctuated by the sharp clangs of a metal tool on a hollow metal object, came from starboard. Or was it port? Jacey couldn’t remember. Didn’t care, either.
She followed a metal-grated walkway toward the sounds, amused at Summer’s creative combinations of swear words. She found the girl glaring at a cylindrical tank with a domed top. A gauge attached to a short metal pipe stuck from the top of the dome. To avoid a tedious lecture, Jacey didn’t ask what the tank was.
“Sensei is hoisting the bus aboard,” Jacey said. “I brought a team along to unload and begin setting up bunks in the cargo hold.”
Summer dropped a wrench into a beat-up red toolbox that had grimy and torn pictures of half-naked women taped to the inside of the lid. With a grease-blackened thumb, she tucked a few stray wisps of black hair into a filthy cap. The hat had once been green, Jacey thought. An emblem above the protruding bill in the front showed a leaping deer on a field of yellow. Beneath the image the words “John Deere” were embroidered in green thread.
In the shade of the oversized cap, Summer’s sweltering brown eyes glistened. Her mouth, usually configured in a cute pout, had thinned to a bloodless slash of irritation. “It won’t matter if we can’t pilot this rusty old heap away from the island.” She kicked the tank she’d been struggling with, producing a hollow bong. “It’s a wonder it runs at all. Only one engine is working up to spec and all the repair equipment needs repair.”
“Is that what you were doing? Fixing an engine?”
Summer’s features relaxed as her mind engaged with the problem. “Fix? I’m nowhere near fixing that engine. I need to cut the bolts off this housing so I can see what the problem is.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Jacey said, irritated by Summer’s compulsion to optimize every mechanical device she came across. “What about piloting the boat? Do you think you can do it?”
“Of course I can,” Summer snapped.
Jacey raised a warning eyebrow. Summer looked away before continuing, “The problem is not how to make it go forward or turn it left and right. The problem is where to turn it. Only an experienced pilot can get us out of this bay safely. If you leave it in my hands, there’s at least a seventy percent chance I’ll run it into a reef and tear a hole in the keel. You need to lean on Orson a bit more.”
Jacey flashed back to Leslie’s idea of sending Horace in to intimidate Orson. As much as she hated the idea, she didn’t see a better way. Not with time running out.
But she wouldn’t use Horace. She’d do it herself.
“I’ll work on Orson. What else do you need?”
Summer let out a long sigh. “You’d better come with me.”
9
Zero Remorse
In the computer-simulated version of the Scion School, time passed in weird fits and starts. It didn’t bother Belle much. It was more of a curiosity for her now.
At the moment, she sat in the middle of the quad, legs crossed, taking long, deep breaths through her nose and exhaling more slowly through her mouth. It reminded her of the deep breathing exercises Sensei had Scions learn when they were young. She had never found the practice very valuable. But Vaughan insisted that if she were to get in touch with her true self, she needed to spend more time alone with herself.
But not thinking.
It didn’t make any sense to her, but she trusted Vaughan. More importantly, she loved him. She hoped that one day he would love her back. And not in the brotherly way he did at the moment.
She opened her eyes and gazed to the western horizon, where the gloriously huge sun, glowing a fiery red and amber, had half-disappeared behind the hills. Its lush rays painted the white stucco of the campus buildings with a wash of topaz and russet. Vaughan had made the magnified sun for her. Fortunately, it gave off no more heat than it should.
With a thought, she stopped the sun where it was. Unless she or Vaughan changed it, the world would stay locked in perpetual sunset. The breeze would stay just as it was. Time would seem to freeze. If only she could truly stop time.
Inside of her chest, the pulse of impatience beat like a clock.
She suddenly knew the cause of her impatience, and it surprised her. She was worried about the Scions in the real world.
They had to get off the island before the senator’s backup force arrived. She just hoped Humphrey would find her and Vaughan’s computer server before he had to leave. She didn’t relish being left behind, even though her day-to-day existence would be no different no matter where her server was.
Thinking of her reliance on computer hardware turned Belle’s thoughts back to the more pressing problem at hand. Vaughan had refused to install Elizabeth on their server.
Belle had nearly changed Vaughan’s mind. But he had one condition that Belle found utterly intolerable. Vaughan said he absolutely would not delete Elizabeth once they got the information Jacey needed. And that meant that Belle and Vaughan would have to share this existence for all eternity with a woman Belle hated on principle—a Progenitor who had overwritten Vin.
So Belle sat there, torn between an incomprehensible desire to help protect the Scions in the real world and her very clear and unmistakable jealousy to keep her isolation with Vaughan intact forever.
She decided to stand, and so by the next heartbeat she was standing. She no longer bothered with the in-between stages, the way Vaughan did. If the simulation gave her magic-seeming powers, why not enjoy them? With another thought, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She didn’t prefer it that way, but she liked to dress and manage her hair to match her mood. Vaughan needed to see that she meant business.
She always knew where all the various Vaughans were in this world. Why he felt compelled to divide himself into so many instances, she didn’t know. He claimed it helped him multitask. One Vaughan could be researching something, another could be exploring somewhere, another could be swimming. She had tried it herself, but found it very disconcerting to have all those copies of her mind wandering around the island and being aware of what all of them were experiencing.
“Vaughan?” she said into the air. He materialized in front of her, and she knew instantly that he was the only instance currently in existence.
“What have you decided, Belle?”
Seeing him made her chest ache. She wanted to reach up, pull his face close to hers, and kiss his lips and flow into him so that she wasn’t even a separate entity. But she couldn’t do that.
“Install Elizabeth,” Belle said.
“You accept my condition?”
Belle drew in a deep meditative breath, held it, and even in that moment still didn’t know what her decision would be.
She spoke and discovered. “Yes, I accept. But I can’t promise I’ll always be nice to that woman.”
Vaughan nodded, his face grave. She wondered if he felt any hatred toward Elizabeth in his own heart. She doubted it. Vaughan seemed incapable of hatred.
No, she mused. If anything, he probably feels sorry for the woman.
“I think we’ll bring her back by the beach,” Vaughan said.
Belle remembered her own rebirth, coming awake afloat, naked, in the water just off of Isaac’s Beach. It had been a strange but peaceful experience. The realization of where she was and what she was had come very slowly, gently, because Vaughan had designed it that way for her.
He had never spoken about his own birth as an AI. That fact alone told her enough. It must have been jarring, perhaps excruciating. And though she had always been a loner, she knew that if she had come to life in this existence with no one to talk to, no other person around at all, she might have gone mad from loneliness.
“I’d like to walk there,” Vaughan said.
“All right.”
Vaughan held out his hand and she took it. They walked down the path toward Isaac’s Beach, a route she’d taken countless times in her real life on St. Vitus.
“It’s just as well you made the decision you did,” Vaughan said. “Elizabeth is already there.”
Belle yanked him to a stop. “You installed her before we talked?”
“Yes,” Vaughan said.
Belle reached out with a sort of sixth sense, the one that told her where all the Vaughans were. She found a new mind, a new entity. She had never met Elizabeth in real life, but this new presence had a strangely familiar feel. One that felt like Vin.
She said as much to Vaughan, and he nodded sagely. “It’s like when someone you know walks into a room, but you’re not looking. You know who it is by just the sound of their footsteps, or something in the air.”
That was exactly what it was like.
They crossed the final stretch of path and out onto the promontory of Jacque’s Point. From there, they saw a figure in the distance, small and naked, just trudging to shore, gazing around in wonder.
Belle’s heart froze. “You brought her back as young. As Vin.”
“Vin was Elizabeth’s clone,” Vaughan said. “That’s how Elizabeth looks.”
