Inheritance

CHAPTER 27

Reese’s phone pealed, the screen lighting up the dark room. She sat up, disoriented, and grabbed the vibrating device from where she had stowed it on a shelf near her bunk. It was David. She answered the phone, heart racing from her abrupt awakening, and croaked, “Hello?”

“Hey, are you coming to school today?”

He sounded wide awake, and she pulled the phone away from her ear to check the time. It was nine fifteen in the morning. She fumbled for the light switch and then realized there wasn’t one. “Lights,” she said groggily, and heard David’s tinny voice coming from the phone. She raised it to her ear again as the overheads glowed on. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What’s going on?”

“I looked for you at school but I couldn’t find you. Are you still at home?”

She blinked. “I’m on Angel Island.”

A beat. “Why?”

“My mom thought I’d be safer here.” Reese rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to wake herself up. She pushed the pillow against the wall and leaned back. “Aren’t you in school?” At nine fifteen, he should be in the middle of second period already.

“Yeah, I snuck out for a minute. I got some news from my dad. The scientists who are analyzing our DNA—they have an initial assessment. They think we’re descended from the Imria.”

She stared at the close weave of the blue-gray blanket over her legs. It had a meticulously repeated diamond pattern. “What?”

“They think humans evolved from the Imria. My dad says they can trace this back through our mitochondrial DNA—it’s the same way anthropologists have been figuring out how humans evolved. They thought we were descended from a common ancestor in Africa, but apparently our DNA says we came from the Imria.”

Reese was wide awake now. “Are they sure? They could figure this out just from our DNA?”

“They also had a sample from Dr. Brand. She gave one to my dad—he never told me this. But with the Imrian sample and ours, yeah, they’re pretty sure. I think they want to do more analyzing, and they’re not going public with this yet, but it kind of explains a lot, doesn’t it? Why we look like them.”

“But Akiya Deyir said they didn’t know why—”

“Obviously he was lying. And you know what? Lovick had to be lying too. CASS has had access to Imrian DNA for years. They have to know too.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees. She was cold. “So Charles Lovick and Akiya Deyir were both lying.”

“But Dr. Brand wanted us to know. Why else would she have given that sample to my dad?”

Reese’s mind raced. “Do you think there’s some kind of disagreement among the Imria? I mean, if Dr. Brand wanted us to know but Akiya Deyir didn’t…”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on with them. If you’re on the ship now, you need to find out. Talk to Dr. Brand.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” Her shoulders were stiff with tension. “But what are we going to do about Mr. Hernandez? I know the Imria haven’t exactly been telling us the whole truth, but I don’t trust CASS at all. You can’t go to that meeting with Mr. Hernandez tomorrow night.”

“If I don’t go—you saw the photos he had. And what about you? Have you decided not to go?”

“My mom won’t let me leave this place until after she thinks our house is secure. I can’t go even if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to help CASS do whatever shady thing they’re planning.”

David’s voice dropped. “My family, Reese. I can’t leave them.”

“Then bring them here,” she said impulsively. “Just bring them all.”

“To the ship?”

“Yes. Bring your parents and your sister. CASS can’t get to them here.”

“I’ll have to tell them why.”

“So tell them.” She was tired of lying; the idea of simply telling the truth was a seductive novelty.

He was silent for a moment. “So you want to just throw in with the Imria. We rely on them for everything.”

“No. We rely on each other. You’re supposed to be here tomorrow for another lesson with Eres anyway, and the UN thing is on Monday. You should stay here tomorrow night, because if you go back, you’ll have to go to the meeting with Hernandez, or else CASS will move in. At least if you stay here, we’ll be able to talk to Dr. Brand together. We’ll get them to tell us everything. We’ll figure it out together.”

She realized this was the first time she had talked to David since he broke up with her in the school hallway on Monday. She had avoided him all week, not even returning his texts after he heard about the attack on her house, because she had been so embarrassed by the breakup. Now that seemed like a million years ago. She was glad David had called this morning while she was asleep, because that was probably the only reason she had answered the phone—she hadn’t been awake enough to be self-conscious. She slid to the edge of the bed and threw off the blanket, swinging her legs off the bunk. The matte black floor warmed beneath the soles of her feet, as if the material was made to sense her presence. David still hadn’t answered, and the silence on the other end of the phone worried her.

“Please,” she said. She didn’t care anymore if she sounded like a dork. The only thing that mattered was keeping him safe. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Just come here.” Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as she waited for him to respond.

Finally he said, “All right.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved.

After they hung up, she held the phone in the palm of her hand for a long moment. She took a deep breath before calling her home number. “Hi, Dad,” she said when he answered. “Look, you need to pack a suitcase.”

It was past ten o’clock by the time Reese made it down to the dining hall for breakfast. She didn’t expect to find anyone there, but the room wasn’t empty. Amber was seated at the curved table closest to the plant-filled cylinder, a laptop open in front of her. She didn’t look up when the doors slid open; she was too absorbed in whatever she was reading on the computer.

Reese knew she should say something, but it was the first time she had seen Amber since the disastrous afternoon on the beach. She was wearing a faded green T-shirt, and her blond hair was messy, as if she had just woken up. Reese wanted to be angry at Amber for trying to kiss her last Saturday, but it was hard to be mad at someone who had only done what she knew you wanted. Amber had made a mistake, but so had Reese. Did that make them even now? Reese wasn’t sure.

“Hi,” Reese said out loud.

Amber glanced up and looked rattled to see her. “Hi.” She gestured at the buffet area. “There’s breakfast over there.”

Reese walked over to the buffet. She heard Amber slide something across the table—a bowl or a cup—and the clink of a spoon against ceramic. As Reese assessed the remaining breakfast options, she felt Amber’s gaze on her back like the brush of feathers against her skin, even though she had no idea whether Amber was actually looking. On the buffet table was yogurt, fruit, and granola; bread and various spreads in small jars; a coffee urn; and dishes and utensils. At the end of the table, almost like an afterthought, was a box of Cheerios. Reese spooned strawberries and yogurt into a bowl and made herself a cup of coffee. She added milk and stirred it slowly, wondering whether the Imria always ate ordinary American food, and then she realized she was delaying the inevitable. She picked up her bowl and went to sit across from Amber.

“There’s usually more food, but it’s getting late,” Amber said.

“It’s fine,” Reese said, taking a sip of the coffee. It wasn’t bad.

“Where’s your mom? I thought she was with you.”

“She went for a hike. She left me a note.” The floor-to-ceiling screens on the wall showed the view outside: the grassy field and the hill of eucalyptus trees, a hazy sky above. Reese wondered where her mom had gone. When she returned, Reese would have to tell her that she had persuaded her dad to come to the ship on Saturday, and she would have to tell her why. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation in which she confessed that she had been deceiving a secret organization that had been surveilling her and her parents for weeks.

Amber closed the lid of the laptop and folded her arms on the table, pushing her own bowl out of the way. Reese saw a few Cheerios floating in the milk at the bottom. “I saw the photos,” Amber said in a soft voice. There was a vertical line in the middle of her forehead, a groove of worry in her skin. “I didn’t know there would be photographers out there. If I had, I wouldn’t have suggested we go to the beach. I’m sure you didn’t want to be outed that way.”

Reese was midway through a bite of yogurt and strawberries, and the yogurt suddenly tasted sour. She swallowed it with some difficulty and reached for her coffee.

“Are you okay? I read about what happened at your house. It sounded… awful.”

“I’m fine,” Reese said, though her stomach had clenched when Amber said the word awful. “Nobody was hurt.”

Amber’s expression, which had been grave, became apologetic. “I know it doesn’t help that I’m not human. I’m sorry to put you through that.”

Reese’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You didn’t. It’s not your fault the world is full of assholes.”

Amber almost smiled. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I am. Thanks.” Reese nudged the strawberries in her bowl with her spoon. “And you shouldn’t read that stuff. They don’t know you. They’re just being jerks.”

Amber’s eyes lit up, and now she did smile. “Oh, I know they don’t know me. The stuff they write about me is hilarious. The speculation alone! Do you know how much money I could make if I would just pose for Playboy?”

Reese nearly choked on her spoonful of yogurt.

Amber leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “That’s all they want—to know exactly how alien I am. Maybe I should do it and get some tentacle prosthetics or something.”

“You don’t find this insulting?” Reese said, amazed.

Amber shrugged, lifting one shoulder fluidly. “Not really. It’s just ignorance. I am insulted by the fact that the masses seem to think I’m stupid. You think it’s because of the blond? Maybe I should dye my hair black. I think I’d get more respect as a brunette.”

Reese laughed. “I like the blond.”

Amber grinned. “I know.”

Reese felt her face warming up and she busied herself with her breakfast, even though she could barely taste it anymore. What was it with people saying I know in response to things? To change the subject, she asked, “Why are you using a laptop? Don’t you have more advanced computers or whatever?”

“It’s easier to use human technology to access the Internet. It’s built for it, you know?”

“That makes sense.”

“Hey,” Amber said, her tone turning serious again. “I really hope those pictures didn’t screw things up with David. Was he upset?”

Reese’s spoon clattered against the bowl. “Upset? He broke up with me.”

Shock flashed across Amber’s face. “What? I’m so sorry. Do you want me to tell him nothing happened?”

“No,” Reese said sharply. “I think it’s best if you guys never talk to each other about it.”

Amber flushed. “Oh. Does he hate me?”

“I don’t know.” It felt wrong to discuss this with Amber—as if she were betraying David all over again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Amber’s gaze lowered. “Okay.” Her cheeks were tinged pink, and she looked worn out and sad. That made Reese ache as if it were all her fault.

Reese pushed her bowl away and said, “Can I ask you something?”

Amber looked up. “Sure, what?”

Reese almost winced at the hope in Amber’s eyes. “Is the adaptation chamber in this ship?”

Amber was clearly surprised by the question. “Yeah, why?”

It’s that easy, Reese thought. She could have asked about this weeks ago. “I want to see it. Will you show it to me?”

Amber seemed uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I should do that.”

“Why not? I was in it, wasn’t I? I have as much right to see it as anyone. More.”

Amber considered her for a moment, then glanced around the empty dining hall. “Okay. I can bring you when you’re finished with your breakfast.”

Reese took another sip of her coffee and said, “I’m done. I’m not hungry.”

Amber bit her lip. “All right.” She stood. “Let’s go.”

Reese followed Amber out of the dining hall. They walked down a corridor that Reese had never noticed before, and paused in front of a door with a plaque on it that Reese could not read. When Amber touched the plaque, the door slid open to reveal a room with three large, clear tanks on the floor. Two of them were empty, but the third contained a thick, gel-like substance that glowed with a faint blue luminescence. Inside the tank, suspended in the gel, was an oval pod the length of a human body.

Reese crossed the floor toward the pod. The walls of it were made of a material with a golden sheen that looked smooth and hard as an eggshell, but Reese knew it was pliable. She recognized it. She remembered being cocooned in this device, a gelatinous liquid cradling her, making her feel weightless. The smooth, curved walls had sealed shut around her until all she could see was the red-veined golden interior. Had she been in this very chamber? She raised her hand to touch the edge of the tank, and then halted. Her skin crawled. “Is there someone inside?”

“No,” Amber said. She walked around to the other side of the tank. “It’s empty. This one is set up because we’re testing it.”

Reese reached out to touch the tank. It was cool and hard, and a buzz of electricity swept across her skin. “Was I in one of these?”

Amber nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

“Which one?”

“You were in this tank, but I don’t know if you were in this particular chamber. They’ve all been removed for cleaning and stuff, so I’m not sure which one was put back in for the test.”

Reese stared down at the pod through the glass walls of the tank. She remembered the slow, underwater-like beep from her dream. “What happened the night of the accident? Did you guys bring me to this ship? How did I get to Project Plato?”

“I wasn’t there, but from what I’ve been told, the military found you and David. There are security sensors all around Area 51, and when you guys crashed, you tripped a lot of alarms. The military didn’t want to bring you underground, so they took you to Project Plato. My mom was working. When she saw how seriously you were injured, she knew you’d need the adaptation chamber. She did the surgery at Project Plato, but she also called the ship. Right before dawn, the ship came and they transferred you and David into the chambers. The military didn’t know. They were dealing with the June Disaster that week—a lot of protocols were skipped over or ignored because of the fallout from that.”

The gel surrounding the chamber had tiny bubbles in it. Reese asked, “So why did they move us back to Project Plato? Why didn’t they just let us wake up on the ship?”

“They had to move you. There were records that put you and David at Plato the night that you crashed. My mom had to account for your whereabouts to the military liaisons. You couldn’t just disappear after getting that medical treatment.”

Reese spread her fingers over the glass of the tank. Her hand cast a faint shadow over the pod. “Didn’t they—the military or whatever—realize that David and I weren’t there? They never checked our rooms?”

Amber came closer, brushing against the opposite side of the tank, and Reese glanced up to see the vertical line in Amber’s forehead again. “You have to understand, things really were messed up with the June Disaster. It was literally a disaster for your government. They were involved in this giant cover-up operation that involved a zillion different components—rerouting traffic, the Internet, clean-up crews—and they let things slide at Plato. They didn’t have time to check up on two random kids who’d had a car accident. It didn’t seem relevant to them. By the time they sent someone to check, my mom had transferred the two of you back to Project Plato. You were still unconscious.”

Amber’s words slid like ice down Reese’s back. “What do you know about the cover-up?” she asked.

“I don’t know the specifics,” Amber said quickly.

“Was it about the birds?”

“Yes.”

“What did the government do to those birds? And why?”

“I don’t know. I just know that your military was doing these crazy experiments on livestock—birds and other animals too—using Imrian DNA. My mom might know more about it. But after the planes started crashing, they had to cover up the fact that it was their failed experimentation that made those birds attack the planes. All that confusion saved your life.”

Reese felt sick to her stomach. “My life isn’t worth the lives of the two thousand people who died in those plane crashes.”

Amber seemed upset. Her fingers gripped the edge of the tank. “Why not? You’re exactly what we’ve been working so long to create. You and David, both of you.”

“David and I were in a car accident. An accident. We could have been anybody.”

Amber’s eyes were hard and bright. She leaned over the tank toward Reese. “There are no coincidences.”

Reese’s eyes narrowed at her. “Your mom said that at the press conference. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nig tukum’ta nu nig tukum’ta,” Amber said in Imrian. “There is no coincidence. It means that you’re alive for a reason. My people have been working on this adaptation procedure for a really long time. Everything that happened to put you and David in that car in Nevada on that night in June—the debate tournament, your government’s secret project with the birds, the plane crashes—it all points to you and David. You two were meant to have this procedure. You two survived it, and now you’re here. Alive. You’re important.”

Reese shook her head, a fuzzy panic coming over her. “No.” She backed away from the adaptation chamber. “Maybe your people don’t think there’s such a thing as coincidence, but I’m not Imrian. I’m human. And to me, this is all just one big giant accident, and now I’m here in the middle of something I never chose to be involved with, and—”

“Choice has nothing to do with it,” Amber cut in.

“We are not getting into some debate about free will right now,” Reese snapped.

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Maybe we’re having a cultural difference, then.” Reese crossed her arms and stood her ground. “Just tell me one thing. If David and I are so important to you guys, when are you going to tell us the truth about who you are?”

Amber took a step back. Her hands left condensation marks on the tank, like the handprints of someone trying to escape. “What do you mean?”

“David called me this morning and said his dad got the results back from the preliminary tests on our DNA. He said the results show that we—humans—are descended from the Imria.”

Amber’s face went pale.

“Is that true?” Reese asked.

“I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

Reese stared at her, dumbfounded. “It’s not your place?”

Amber gave Reese an anguished look. “It’s not like I don’t want to tell you, but Akiya Deyir made me promise—I mean, I messed everything up with you. They don’t trust me anymore. They want me to do what I’m supposed to do and shut up. I can’t tell you.”

Amber’s words echoed in the quiet of the lab. Reese’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Amber had been so forthcoming today that Reese thought—she had hoped—that the time for secrets was behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Amber said. “I’ll ask my mom—”

“Amber, please,” Reese said in a low voice. “This is so important. Can’t you tell me the truth?”

Amber’s gaze faltered, her eyes flickering toward the door. Reese heard the whisper of Amber’s breath as she inhaled and exhaled. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Amber said, “Okay. I’ll tell you, but not here. They could come in at any minute. We have to go somewhere else.”