“I have to tell Tahira,” Garrick said. “How am I supposed to meet her eyes?”
“Give me twenty-four hours to get you some news. One hour at a time, Garrick.”
“Shit.” Garrick’s hand shook, and the telephone receiver was unsteady. He was terrified Lucas would hang up, that he would never know what happened to Johnny. “How’s Jared?”
“Good.” Lucas’s voice loosened. “We’re bringing him home from Oxford.”
Oxford. Not bad. Garrick tried to say Keep him safe, but his words caught in his throat.
“My wife’s on her way back,” Garrick said.
“Please don’t say anything to her, Garrick. It isn’t safe.” Lucas was begging. “If Johnny is with Fana and Caitlin, he’s fine. They have safe houses, like the original Underground Railroad. My people will find them before anyone else does. My people are good. They’re fast.”
“Is that what’s best for him?” Garrick said. He had to ask. The answer depended on who Lucas worked for, and how “his people” felt about Glow dealers. Garrick had read about prison sentences that would destroy his son’s life before it began if the feds were involved.
“Tell me if you hear from Johnny,” Lucas said. “That’s what’s best for him. We need to find them before the bad guys do.”
“You’re asking a lot for what you’re giving,” Garrick said.
“I know, but…I only called to tell you about Johnny. We need to get those kids home.” Lucas sighed again, and Garrick wished they were sitting on the back porch together instead of thousands of miles apart, in every way. “This is my fault, Garrick.”
“I won’t argue.”
“I’m so sorry. Give Tahira a hug. Just don’t say it’s from me.”
Then Lucas hung up, gone as suddenly as he’d reappeared.
Another dramatic exit with no forwarding number. A kick in the stomach.
Bring Johnny out with you, Lucas had told Garrick five years ago, before that last phone call Garrick had finally stopped waiting for. Lucas had thought he could convince Garrick to move out to the colony once he showed off the new houses, the lab, and the children lined up at school. The colony had been doing wonders for Lucas: He’d looked like he hadn’t aged a day in ten years.
Lucas had strolled those peaceful wooded grounds as if God had whispered The Answer To Everything in his ear. Garrick had never seen a man look so contented. He had thought he would have had to cross to his Father’s Kingdom to see the joy he’d seen right there on Lucas’s face. Garrick had been tempted to join Lucas and build a house just like Cal Duhart and his family, with a creek out back.
Was it science? Was it a religion? The journalist in Garrick Wright had needed to know. Something in his soul had needed to know.
But Tahira would never have agreed to leave Tallahassee. And no matter how many children lived there, Garrick hadn’t been able to imagine raising Johnny out in the woods. It hadn’t seemed like a well-rounded life, with all the secrecy. For his family’s sake, he had chosen caution.
Johnny had only visited once, for two days, but it had been long enough. Long enough to meet Caitlin O’Neal. Long enough to meet Fana.
What is It? Where does It come from?
Garrick might have sacrificed his only child and never know why.
Bea had stopped shaking, but she looked far from all right.
Jessica gazed sadly at her mother, who sat in the armchair near the window in Alex’s room with her eyes closed, her chin bobbing slightly as she fought off sleep. Her lips were pinched shut, the only sign that she was awake. Bea looked like a woman sitting in a burning room, her face full of focused pain. This was the half-waking state Bea had been sinking into more and more often in the past few years, as if the effort of consciousness wearied her. Today precious hours of Bea’s life had been stolen from her early. Jessica could see it in her face.
Alex lay in the Victorian-era maple bed, her head resting on two pillows, as if she were sleeping. Lucas had dressed Alex in a pink gown Jessica knew her sister would hate—silk with lace fringes, no less. Wake up, hon, and tell your husband to go bring you a decent T-shirt. But at least Lucas had tried to dress Alex like a queen.
Jessica only remembered that Lucas was still in the room when she heard him sigh behind her. He was sitting in a wooden chair near the closet. He slipped the black satellite phone into his jacket pocket, stood up, and carried his chair to Alex’s bedside. Lucas shouldn’t be calling anyone, but she understood. He had to talk to his friend, considering the news that had just come.
“How’d it go?” Jessica said.
“Awful,” he said. “He was a friend, I couldn’t tell him everything he deserved to know, and I think I just lied to him. I don’t know if I should bring Jared back here, much less Garrick’s kid. But he said he’ll wait to call the police. Until he hears more from me.”
Thank goodness. Maybe there was still time to fix it before it became worse. Before outsiders got involved. Damn, damn, damn. This was their worst day in a long time.
Fana and Caitlin were gone, and now Garrick Wright’s son was, too. Garrick was a good man, but the Brothers had refused to allow further contact with him and the others. The Lalibela Council had threatened to shut them down by force if they brought in more outsiders, and Dawit had made concessions to avoid conflict. She hadn’t minded the extra precaution; she’d known the price of carelessness. But as much as they had all tried to shield their children, clearly the younger generation had been touched by the mission, knowing what had rarely been spoken. Radicalized by it, maybe. And a little child shall lead them. Jessica wished she felt proud instead of scared.
Alex had tried to warn her. Jessica clasped Alex’s hand, feeling her sister’s warm skin, the calluses in her palms. I miss you, Alex. I need every counselor today, and you’re my best.
Jessica gazed at Lucas, who shared the one bond with her that even Alex did not. Lucas was as tall as Teferi, almost six-foot-six. Lucas was the big brother Jessica had always wished for, and he had arrived just in time.
“It’s happening tonight,” Jessica told Lucas. “Justin will lose twenty years of memories.”
Lucas shook his head with a forced chuckle. “Then we better hope Alex doesn’t wake up, or she’ll beat us both senseless.”
Jessica wished she could laugh too, but she was closer to crying. She hadn’t cried since waking to realize that her sister was in a kind of coma and her volatile little girl was gone.
“Can we try to appeal it?” Lucas said. “Would Dawit support us?”
“Do we really want to try, Lucas?” she said quietly.
Jessica had never been able to like Justin O’Neal, and she had been trying a long time. He had a weak character, a dishonest nature. And the Old Testament says Moses was a murderer before he found God—so what’s your point?
Lucas rested his head on his wife’s gently breathing chest. His eyes shimmered. “Listen, Jess, that man and his father held me and this lady at gunpoint. He didn’t do jack shit while a man burned Alex’s face with cigarettes. Almost got me killed. Hell, no, I don’t like him. So would I lose any sleep if they make him forget his own name? Probably not.”
“But…,” Jessica said. She knew there was more.
Lucas glanced at Bea, who was so still that she might have fallen asleep at last. He lowered his voice. “Telepathy? Thought manipulation? They can do things to us we can’t do to them, and they’ve kept it from us. You hid it, too. And Alex. I know you told your sister.”
Lucas’s voice was raw with hurt, and Jessica understood more than she wanted to admit. They needed the Brothers’ support for the mission, but it came with a price.
“I’ve never liked all of their demands, Lucas,” she said. “Alex hated keeping secrets from you.”
Lucas sighed, impatient with her coddling. “So they can jump in and out of our heads at will? A polygraph that never quits, is that it?”
“They wanted open access to the minds of any of us working with
them. Especially people who don’t have the blood….” Jessica couldn’t use the word mortals, the shorthand Dawit and his Brothers used freely. That word sounded too much like a wall between her and the people she cared about. “They promised not to abuse it.”
Lucas smiled wryly. “Ten to one they’re just pissed off Justin out-smarted them.”
“They’re pissed off because Justin lied, abused his position and stole their blood. That vial he stole was intended for thousands of patients, and now it’s lost to them.” Jessica felt her temper surge. “Alex was right last night: The mission might be in jeopardy because of Justin and Caitlin. Everything. I think we should demonstrate to the Brothers that we’re willing to allow them to protect themselves—really, to protect all of us who have this blood.”
Some days, Jessica didn’t believe the words she heard from her own mouth. If Alex hears this, she’s going to sit up and slap me. Was she offering Justin O’Neal as a sacrifice?
“First it’s Justin, next it’s Cal. Or Garrick’s son, Johnny. Or any of us. You know that.”
Jessica couldn’t pretend that most of the Life Brothers felt any warmth for them. It was as if empathy had somehow gotten switched off after hundreds of years. Or were they just too different? “Potentially. Yes.”
“I don’t trust them, Jess.”
“Teka promised me that Justin will still remember most of his life,” she said. “Maybe it’s a just sentence. And if it is, we look petty for putting up a fuss.”
“If we don’t, we look weak.”
“We are weak, Lucas. As long as Fana is gone. Is this the time to provoke them?”
Bea’s voice spoke up suddenly: “Let them tend to their house,” she said. Her mother wasn’t sleeping after all, although her eyes were still closed. She looked like she was squinting into the light from the window. “I feel badly for the man, I do. But you reap what you sow. He knew there were rules. We forgave what he did before, and maybe we shouldn’t have. You two leave it be.” Her voice was tired and sad.
Her mother must have overheard many conversations when they’d thought she hadn’t been paying attention. But then again, her mother’s insight had been surprising Jessica all her life. Bea’s body was fading, but not her mind.
Was acquiescence really the answer? If so, why did it feel so much like cowardice?
Jessica thought she saw Alex’s mouth twitch. Maybe, knowing Alex’s mind, she’d only imagined it. Alex wouldn’t tolerate the Life Brothers’ decision, whether or not it was Justin O’Neal. The cost for protection was too high, Alex said. She must be screaming inside.
“There’s another way,” Jessica said as the answer came to her.
Dinner was delicious, the kinds of foods Justin O’Neal never saw on the menus of the five-star international hotels where he spent too many of his nights on the road. Roast chicken cooked with a Cajun spice rub. Mashed potatoes. Homemade biscuits. Turnip greens flavored with peanut butter. Jessica and Nita had explained that the food was only leftovers, but after two nights in a cell, the dining room at the Big House was paradise.
Justin hadn’t expected to have an appetite, but he piled up a second plate in the room’s stony silence. Even with Teka sitting across the table, the food hadn’t lost its flavor.
The others were eating, too, although without his enthusiasm. Lucas Shepard hadn’t eaten a bite, and Jessica, Cal and Nita weren’t doing much better. None of them looked like they wanted to be here, not even Teka. It was hard to catch anyone’s eyes.
Is this my last meal? If so, Justin couldn’t complain. If that was peach pie he smelled baking, that would make up for a multitude of sins.
“There’s cobbler in the oven,” Nita said. “Peach. Want some ice cream on that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Justin said. “You just read my mind.”
Lucas and Jessica gave each other a look, mournful and significant. Whatever was about to happen here, Justin hoped it would wait until after dessert.
Justin got his wish. The cobbler was the best he had ever tasted. Hands down.
“You have a decision to make, Justin,” Jessica finally said while Nita poured coffee.
Suddenly, all eyes were on him, and Justin suddenly noticed the ticking of an old-fashioned clock from the living room.
“I didn’t think this was for the pleasure of my company,” Justin said, smiling to put Jessica at ease. She might be the only reason he had lived this long.
Jessica nodded, returning his smile, but sadly. “The Life Brothers have passed a sentence on you, but the rest of us might choose to oppose it. If we oppose them, win or lose, tempers will flare. The outcome for you and your family might be worse than the original sentence.”
Do you want door number one or door number two?
“So I need to decide if it’s better to take the sentence,” Justin said.
“Yes.”
“If I do…is the safety of my family guaranteed? Even Caitlin?”
“If you agree to the sentence? Yes,” Jessica said, not hesitating. As she spoke, she stared toward Teka, as if for confirmation. “We wouldn’t harm Caitlin. We would protect her.”
Teka assured both of them with a slow, sober nod.
Finally. His reckoning. Either he was about to die, or he would disappear from the world in a prison cell somewhere. No price was too high for a guarantee that Holly, Casey and Caitlin would be all right, but how could he take their word?
“What’s the sentence?” he said.
“You would forget you know us,” Teka said. “You would forget everything that has happened to you for the past eighteen years. Perhaps twenty.”
They’ll fire me and let me go? Justin’s armpits prickled with disbelief. Jubilation.
“Of course,” Justin said, tears stinging his eyes. “I would never say a word.”
Jessica leaned forward, shaking her head. “No. You won’t remember.”
Six faces stared at him with dead certainty, waiting for him to see the point.
“Some kind of…brain surgery?” Justin said. His stomach ached suddenly, pulled too taut.
“Tell me what you just ate,” Teka said.
Justin stared at the small man, dumbstruck. Was this a joke? Were they playing with him? He could still taste his food in his mouth. He’d had…
Justin’s mind was a blank sheet.
He stared down at his plate. Chicken bones. A pastry for dessert? Was that melted ice cream? He couldn’t remember, although he remembered enjoying the meal.
“I…don’t…”
Lucas stood up, as if he were a defense attorney at a trial. “That’s enough.”
“What’s the point of playing with him?” Nita said.
Justin was suddenly on his feet, too, his eyes locked with Teka’s. He took a step backward, stumbling into a chair. Teka’s eyes weren’t normal. Those eyes were alive, and Justin couldn’t look away from him. His heart hammered against his ribs. What the FUCK?
“You’ve been asked to give up eighteen years of memory,” Teka said. “I want you to understand what you’re being asked. I can do what I have claimed. You will forget.”
Justin wished he hadn’t eaten so much of whatever he’d had, because he felt sick to his stomach. Was this a dream?
“I wouldn’t do it,” Nita said. Her voice quavered.
He heard the others’ angry voices, but they blended in his mind as one. They were trading mundane legal points the way he would at a jury trial. Not a dream. Not a fantasy. Real. This was their inner world! Justin’s heart raced.
Eighteen years. What would he lose in eighteen years? He would remember the twins’ birth, but little else of them beyond that. He would have to get to know his daughters again. He would have to get to know himself again.
“You’ll remember all of your childhood,” Teka said.
Justin almost laughed, a glimmer of sanity. “That’s the part I can do without.”
The others chuckled uneasily, but their eyes weren’t laughing.
“How did you do that?” Justin asked Teka. “Scramble my head?”
Teka shrugged. “It’s a skill I’ve refined over time.”
“Tell me who you are.”
“If I tell you more, your sentence is decided.”
Justin forced himself to stop and think. He couldn’t be mesmerized by this man’s dancing eyes and the knowledge brimming there. “What would happen to Holly and my girls?”
“Holly and Casey will live undisturbed. Caitlin must give up her memories, or live here.”
“You mean like…reading and writing? Language? She would lose it all?”
“No. Most of her cognitive learning would be intact, with some gaps. The memories most affected will be experiences. Nothing conscious will connect her to this colony or its people. She’ll remember nowhere she has lived during that time. She will remember no one she has met since she was six or seven, yet she will remember how to compute an algebraic equation she learned as an older girl. In your case, you would remember yourself as a younger man. Your job. Your home. Baby daughters. The contrast will confuse you at first, but you will adjust with time. If we’re satisfied that your wife and daughter pose us no threat—”
“They don’t know anything about the blood. I mean that.”
“We know,” Teka said, with a smile so certain that it chilled Justin.
But of course Teka knew. Teferi had always known everything in his mind, too. Justin had always sensed that, and he’d even joked to Holly about it. But that wasn’t why he had never betrayed this colony’s secrets to Holly and the girls: To explain the blood, he would have had to explain all of it, starting with the people who’d died. Holly thought the colony was a health-conscious family retreat, and he was happy to keep it that way. Caitlin must have found out about the blood from Fana, because he never would have told her.
“Let me at least wait until Caitlin is back. To say good-bye. To see her safe.”
The others’ eyes went to Jessica. Gently, she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Jessica and the rest must have argued for leniency, he realized. He owed them his life, and they didn’t have room for negotiation.