Shades of Earth (30 page)

“No,” Captain Davis says simply. “You will not.”

 

The image fades out, but it doesn't matter, I know what happened next. I can see it in my mind as clearly as the images on the video. Captain Davis uses Phydus—not the drug mixed with the gen modifiers that the FRX gave him, but a variation of it—to control the rebels and contain the ship. Fear of Phydus kept them from landing, then use of it kept them subdued.

This is where Orion's twisted mind latched onto the idea of us all being turned into slaves or soldiers. Because it already happened once before.

 

Suddenly, another image appears on the camera. No sound. Just the girl, Captain Davis's daughter. She looks leaner and fiercer, but at the same time, she's subdued, controlled. A tame lioness. She sits on the stool, staring vacantly ahead. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder if the Inhibitors ever worked on her.

The camera zooms in closer to her face. Her startling blue eyes. Such a strange color, almost clear, with irises . . . unusual irises . . . .

I've only ever seen eyes like that once before.

I'm suddenly aware that Chris has not spoken in a long time. I turn slowly.

His gun is leveled at my head.

64:
ELDER

Bartie stands by the door
to the bridge of the auto-shuttle. His eyes are still wide and disbelieving as the vid feed continues playing for Amy to see on Centauri-Earth.
Godspeed
is our—
his
—home. It's a spaceship, yes, but also part farm, part bio-dome, and all used and old and lived in. The auto-shuttle is made of gleaming chrome and white. It looks pristine, especially compared to us, covered in gray dust from the destruction of the Plague Eldest's statue.

His eyes linger on the window over the control panel. He's seen the stars and the planet once before, from the bridge of the shuttle before we departed. But since then, he must have given up any hope of seeing them again. There were no hatches, no workable doors on the rest of
Godspeed
.

“I'd almost forgotten . . . ” he says, staring.

I grin at him. “Wait till you see it from the planet's surface.”

I can tell by his face that he's not quite registered what's in store for him.

“We should leave as quickly as possible,” I add, bringing us back to the serious task at hand.

Bartie makes an all-call to the ship's inhabitants, letting them know first of my arrival with a new shuttle and second that he's planning on moving everyone out to it. He gives orders to slaughter any remaining livestock and package it for transport and that only items linked to our survival can be taken.

I watch him as he commands his people—because they are
his
people now, not mine. Bartie recognizes something in my look because he smiles at me. “I know, when we land, it can't be like it was before,” he says. “I don't plan on overthrowing whatever rule you have on Centauri-Earth. I just want to make sure we survive.”

I shake my head. “It's not like that. The frozens woke up, and they have their own ruler. Amy's dad actually. And it's not like we're sitting around trying to make a government. All we've been doing is surviving, and we haven't been very good at that.”

“Maybe we'll be able to help when we land.”

“Will they fight against leaving?” I ask, remembering the last time we tried to land.

Bartie shakes his head. “I've already told them about the black patches. They've all known the end was coming. This . . . this is the only hope we'll have to survive, and they know it.” He shifts. “I should help prepare everyone,” he says, heading to the door.

“I'll make sure everything's ready here,” I say. The auto-shuttle was designed specifically for people and cargo transport, but I want to make sure everything's packed as efficiently as possible. I don't want more guilt on my hands, not after letting three people die in the original shuttle landing.

As I turn to go, I notice the vid feed I'd played for Amy on the planet finishes. I move to disconnect the AV player—why didn't she say something when the vid stopped?

I touch the controls for the com link. Amy's voice fills the bridge. “What are you doing with that gun?” she says, her voice crackling over the intercom.

I freeze. Something is very wrong.

“You've realized, haven't you? Looking at that video. You realized my eyes are like hers.” Chris's voice sounds harsh—desperate. “You didn't want to see before,” he continues. “You and your father—you didn't want to see what was always right in front of your faces.”

“Oval irises,” Amy says, then pauses. “I'd noticed your eyes were different, but not that they were . . . ”

“That they weren't
normal?
” Chris spits out bitterly.

I try to remember Chris's eyes. I never really looked at him that closely before, and when I did, I was distracted by the way he seemed to show Amy special attention. He has oval irises? Just like . . . just like the girl who was injected with the gen mod compound.

“How?” Amy asks, her voice taut with fear. I imagine Chris with a gun, pointing it at her. “You're—you're in our military,” she stutters. “You were one of our people—frozen. . . . ” Her voice trails off.

I try to remember the list of military personnel that Orion gave me. There were so many names on it—but was there a Chris? No . . . I don't think so. . . .

Why had I never thought of that before? Orion taught me to question everything.

Chris echoes my train of thought. “It was easy,” he says. “Your father left the shuttle the first time, looking for the probe—do you remember? He left with nine people but came back with ten. With
me
.” His voice is mocking, gleefully crushing Amy's trust. “I'm a descendant of the original colony that you
humans
”—he says the word with disgust—“decided to genetically modify.”

My hands are clenched into fists so hard that I can feel the nails of my fingers cutting the skin on my palms. I'd do anything not to be miles above Centauri-Earth, trapped in space, unable to save her.

“But . . . the Phydus . . .”

“That's really all you can say, Amy? I expected better of you. But no, as you can see, I'm one of the few that isn't affected by what you call Phydus.”

“How's that possible?”

“Genetic defect. The compound they gave to my people genetically modified the adrenal and pituitary glands. Instead of a ‘fight or flight' option, my people are programmed to ‘accept and obey.' Lucky for me, my adrenal gland is broken. Makes more adrenaline than Phydus. After a few generations of being mindless Phydus-controlled freaks, my ancestors started to mutate.”

“Are there others like you?” Amy asks. “I mean, others who aren't affected by Phydus?” She keeps her voice very calm—unnaturally so. It's not hard for me to imagine how much that placid voice is costing her. It reminds me of the lightning in the storm—the thunder was loud and terrifying, but it was the silent lightning that broke through the dark sky.

I am waiting for her lightning to strike.

“Dozens,” Chris says, and even though he's speaking miles below me, I can hear the sneer in his voice. “The ones the FRX hasn't found and killed. You met a bunch of us earlier tonight. They call us rogue hybrids, the ones that have the genetic modification but aren't under their control. And they've been trying their best to kill us off for years.”

“Why?” Amy's only speaking in short quick words. I wonder if she's trapped or worse, if Chris is hurting her.

“Don't you see? Those monsters you've been so worried about. Not aliens.
People.
The monsters have always been people.”

She is silent for a long time, absorbing this information. I unclench my fists, my knuckles cracking, but that doesn't stop my hands from shaking.

“That's not an explanation,” Amy replies.

“Why does any master hate a slave that won't work? We've been sabotaging the shipments, destroying whatever equipment we can.”

The screen on my console lights up. Amy's kept the communication link between the auto-shuttle and the compound open, probably hoping that I can see what's going on. I know better than to try to talk—there's nothing I can do here. I can only listen as Amy does her best to show me what's happening on her end.

“I thought you were different.” Chris's voice is so soft I almost don't catch his words.

Amy's voice, however, is loud. And angry. “Get away from me,” she shouts. I taste blood—I've been biting my lip so hard I didn't notice I'd broken the skin. If Chris touches her . . . if he hurts her. . . .

The menus on the console scroll quickly. This must be Chris's work. The screen stops at
Security Feed: Compound
, then a recorded video showing the outside of the communication building at the compound starts playing. It quickly reverses—I see Amy and Chris running—
from what?
—then a night goes by. The auto-shuttle launch. Me, Amy, and Chris with the glass cube, sneaking inside. Military. Amy and I discovering the compound. Military. Military. And then—Chris.

The video stops rewinding as Chris hits play, showing Amy what happened. In the vid, Chris is not wearing any of the military clothes I've seen him in; he's dressed in a dark, camouflage uniform, one that looks vaguely like green skin. He tries to get into the communication building. He presses his thumb across the biometric scanner. Instead of flashing
HUMAN
, it shows a warning light and the words
ACCESS DENIED
.

The Chris on the screen hits the door with his fist—and a sound that bursts over the intercom tells me that Chris has hit something in the compound, something metallic and hard. If he dares to hit Amy . . .

“But . . . you're human,” Amy says, but it doesn't sound as if she believes the lie she's speaking.

“Not according to
them
.” Chris spits out the word. “
They
genetically altered us. We're hybrids, no longer fully human.”

“Why?” Amy asks. I think she's trying to distract Chris, calm him down, temper the vitriol in his voice. “Why would the FRX mess with your genetic code . . . ? There's no real risk of solar radiation, right? And they could just control you with Phydus.” She pauses. “Not that I approve of Phydus. But they didn't need to make you something . . . other than human.”

I notice Amy's choice of words, but I don't think Chris has. Amy didn't say the FRX made the hybrids
less
human, just
other than
.

“They wanted to make efficient workers, so they enhanced our bodies. But that's not all,” Chris says bitterly. He sounds louder now; he must be closer to the intercom than before. “They did it so that we don't
technically
count as human anymore. At least, not according to them. It helps them sleep at night, I think, to believe that their slaves aren't people.”

I don't want to think it, but I do: would the FRX classify me as less than human too, just because I'm a clone?

There's a note of pride in his voice now. “We have all the strengths the FRX genetically engineered to make a better, stronger slave, but none of the mind-control.”

“You can see in the dark,” Amy says slowly, thinking. “That night, at the shuttle . . . ”

I have no idea what night at the shuttle she's talking about. It's taking everything I have not to steer the auto-shuttle down,
now
, straight back to Amy and the compound.

“Better night vision—better senses in general. Strength. Speed. Agility. The FRX thought they were making something less human, but really they
improved
upon the original model.”

“You still look human to me,” Amy says, her voice soft.

“Shut up!” Something loud pops over the intercom. I think he hit her. I see red. I will kill the frexing traitor.

The recorded video continues. After being unable to get into the communication room, Chris looks as if he's going to strike the door with some sort of weapon—is that a scale, like the one I found in the tunnel? Suddenly, he looks up. He quickly hides the solar glass—because that's what it must be—and Colonel Martin and his military approach, guns out. There's no sound on this video, but it's obvious that Colonel Martin is shouting, pointing a rifle directly at Chris's heart. Chris slowly raises his hands, but I notice that there's a small, flesh-colored device in his right hand. He quickly sticks it in his ear.

This must be how he can talk like us,
I think. If our accents evolved on the ship so that the Earthborns have trouble understanding the shipborns, it must be even more different for people who are born on Centauri-Earth. That device enables him to understand us and reply in our language. The FRX is made up of many nations; no doubt they needed something like this.

Chris starts talking on the screen, but with no sound I can't tell what he's saying. Soon, though, Colonel Martin lowers his gun.

“My father knew?” Amy asks, shocked.

“Of course he did—at least, he knew what we wanted him to know. I told him I was a survivor of the colony, that we'd been wiped out by
aliens
. It wasn't hard. My people hacked the system—we interrupted the automatic message Earth had set up for you on landing. We manipulated the information, made it seem like aliens were the threat. I gave him some solar glass. But then a real message got through. Colonel Martin was persistent—far more so than I thought he would be. The FRX knows you've landed, and they're on their way.”

There's a pause. Amy and I are both trying to sort this information out, I know it.

“The message about the weapon,” Amy says slowly. “That's the real one. That's the message the FRX sent to us.”

“We tried to block it, but enough of the message transmitted before we could stop it. There aren't many of us. ‘Rogue hybrids,' or whatever you want to call us. But there are more now than ever before. And the FRX—they've figured out a way to kill us all.”

“The weapon.”

“Exactly. Problem is, we have a slightly different genetic code than humans now. And the FRX knows it. The weapon? It's a biological bomb. There's a disease in there that will attack anyone with mutated DNA—all of us hybrids, rogue or not. It will kill us all.”

That means—everyone the FRX has enslaved, all the people with the Phydus implanted into their systems as well as all the ones like Chris, who aren't affected by the Phydus—they will all die. This is why the FRX didn't worry about the weapon killing us. We don't have the mutation that makes Chris and his people susceptible. They will die, and we will live.

My stomach drops as I realize what that really means: As soon as the FRX wipes out the hybrids, they'll turn to us. We'll be their next slaves.

Orion was right all along.

“But then why—why did you kill
us?
” Amy asks, and the sorrow that leaks out of the intercom brings me back from my dark thoughts and into hers. “Why did you kill my mom?”