The Fox Inheritance Page 18

  "There. See that bluish one? That's the quarantine and border station for Mars travelers. Sort of an Ellis Island in space." She tells me that Mars was colonized a hundred fifty years ago, but only a couple of hundred thousand live there so far. It's a long trip and expensive, with a six-week quarantine period each way, so not too many people can be persuaded to make the journey.

  "And over there, that reddish star is the remnants of Z65, an asteroid that was intercepted before it collided with our moon." She leans back. "But most are the same stars, same orbits, same everything, that our parents and grandparents and even Galileo looked at."

  "Nice to know that at least some things don't change."

  She doesn't respond for several seconds. "There's a lot that doesn't change, Locke."

  Not from my perspective. Not right now. People, especially. "Why didn't you tell me you were part of the Network?"

  "I'm not part of any--"

  "Jenna, come on. I could shine a light in your face right now and see the backtracking all over it. You're trying to figure out how I know. I'll help you out. Dot spilled it. Allys confirmed it. And your meeting with Father Andre nailed it."

  "Really, Locke. I'm not part of it. At least not anymore. I quit all that when I had Kayla."

  "Just what is 'all that'? I really don't even know what the Network is. I only know some shady basement types helped us in Boston with some fake IDs."

  "That's a good description. Shady basement types. That's basically it in a nutshell. The Network is just a very disorganized group of undergrounders who try to help others out."

  "Since when did helping others have to be done in secret?"

  "When you're helping people that others would prefer you didn't help."

  "Like Non-pacts?"

  "Among others. Non-pact has evolved into a catchall term for anyone who doesn't fit into the so-called norm."

  Like me. "Are land pirates Non-pacts?"

  "Who?"

  I realize that's my own label for them. "I met what I thought were Non-pacts out in the middle of nowhere, and they called themselves pirates."

  She nods like she understands exactly who I am talking about. "Yes, those would be Non-pacts," she says. "They choose a lot of different names for themselves. I can't say I blame them. Who would want to be given a label that makes them sound like they're a nonperson?"

  "How does the Network help them?"

  "Mostly they provide new IDs. Non-pacts are excluded from most public life. Buildings, transportation, even most roads. When they violate public space, they're tagged. The third violation results in removal to a camp in the desert for R and R--Reformation and Reassignment. But it's rare that anyone ever gets out of there or is heard from again."

  I think about the man next to me at the train station who was grabbed by guards. Was he tagged like an animal that roams too close to human habitats? Or is he on his way to the desert for R and R? Is that where I would have ended up? Or maybe I don't even rate as high as a Non-pact, since I don't have that magic ten percent.

  "Sounds like a decent cause. Why'd you quit?"

  She sighs like it is a tired thought. "I worked for decades with Ethan and then Allys for legalization for those like us who didn't meet FSEB number standards. And then I worked decades after that on education because laws don't instantly change minds. I thought I was finally done for a while, but after the Civil Division, the Network contacted me for help, first with Non-pacts who were Runners, then with Bots who were Escapees, and then--"

  "Bots? You helped Bots escape?"

  "There's actually not that many who want to escape. But every now and then ... sometimes..." She looks up at the stars like the words she needs are there and then she shakes her head. "I don't know what happens. I can't explain, and I don't judge. I don't even know if I'm right in helping them escape. But..."

  She doesn't finish. She doesn't have to. I can fill in the blanks. Dot. Sometimes.

  She turns to face me. "But I've done it for years, Locke. Years. That's what happened to the Fox fortune--mostly unfounded penalties because both governments suspected I was involved in the underground. And when the penalties didn't stop me, there was the fire. I don't care about the house or the money, but now I have Kayla. She'll be a child for such a short time. I have to think of her."

  "Sure you do, but your meeting with Father Andre wasn't exactly about your soul."

  She smiles. "You're right. He knows I'm not active anymore, but we're there for each other if necessary. After all these years, I still have a lot of history and plenty of connections with the Network."

  I stare at her, wondering who she has become, and a strange hungry feeling grows inside me. It's as strong as a starved stomach. I'm hungry for what Jenna had, hungry for the life I didn't live, hungry for the purpose I don't have. Hungry for something or someone to need me as much as I need them.

  My house. My uncles. My parents. Someone. Something.

  I feel myself beginning to lapse, losing the moment, searching my memories for a time when I was needed, but I don't want to leave Jenna either--not again. I want at least that much from this world. Stay, Locke. Focus. I jump up and face her. "I saw and heard and knew at last..."

  She tilts her head back to look at me and even in the dim light I see her confusion. Slowly she turns her head to the side and understanding spreads across her face. She laughs. I stand there waiting, and she stands, finishing just the way she used to. "The How and Why of all things, past." She claps her hands like I just recited the whole poem. "I can't believe you remembered that."

  I shrug. "It's not that big a deal," I say. "When you only have sixteen years of memories to fill decade after empty decade, you tend to remember every detail you can." I step closer to her. "And maybe some things are more worth remembering than others."

  Was it only for her, Locke? Did you memorize poetry only for her? I flinch at the unexpected thought. I look over my shoulder but see only the quiet black pond with a shimmer of reflected starlight. I shake the thought away and take another step closer to Jenna so we are just inches from each other. She looks up at me, tenderness in her eyes, calmness in the ocean of blue that used to keep me afloat.

  Locke.

  I hear it, the faintest sound in my head. Jenna saying my name, and I know that, even though we didn't have the years together that Kara and I had, even though our thoughts don't flow back and forth in the same way, the time that we did have together is not gone. Our connection survived.

  Jenna.

  Locke.

  I--

  She steps back. "We should go in," she whispers. "It's getting late." And she grabs my hand and pulls me up the slope before I can say or do anything else.

  Chapter 58

  Jenna.

  Wake up, Locke.

  Wake up.

  Jenna.

  Jenna.

  Jenna.

  I startle, bolting upright in bed. My heart pounds in my throat. Jenna's name hammers in my head. I reach up, wiping at the sweat on my chest.

  I take a deep breath, but midway it catches--

  Jenna.

  It is not a dream.

  The angry beat vibrates through me.

  I heard you, Locke. That first day. I heard you. The very first name from your lips was hers.

  My temples throb. "Kara--"

  Shhh! They'll hear you.

  Kara?

  Where's Jenna? Jenna! That's what you said. All those years I was there for you, but you said her name first.

  She emerges from the shadows.

  "Kara," I whisper.

  You should have said my name. Kara. Kara. Kara. Like that.

  She walks to the end of my bed, her shoulder, her hip, all the beauty of Kara catching the barest glimmer of light.

  You love me, Locke? Do you still love me?

  I've always loved you, Kara.

  Hmmm.

  She crawls down the length of my bed. She crawls into my arms.

  Kara. I've been so worri
ed.

  My arms tighten around her. Holding her. Afraid to let go.

  Did you get my gift?

  What?

  The knife. I put it there for you. In case you need it.

  You? You've been here? All this time?

  Watching. I've been watching. Watching you. I need to know.

  There's nothing to know.

  I saw you playing house. Is that what you want? Another place like Gatsbro's to play house? But this time with Jenna?

  She loves you, Kara. She cried when she found out.

  She deserves to suffer the same way we suffered.

  She already has. She wants to be our friend again.

  She lifts herself up, looking down at me, a sliver of moonlight in her eyes.

  We're together. You and me. That's all we need. That's all.

  Yes, Kara. You and me.

  I was always there for you. Always.

  Yes.

  She leans down. Her lips press against my chest. Biting me. My neck. Her teeth rough against my chin, my cheek. Her lips hover near my ear, her hot breath steaming my skin. "Say my name, Locke," she whispers. "Say it. And I'll pretend it's the first time."

  I want to push her away, but instead I kiss her back and feel the bite of her lips. And then I whisper, "Kara."

  Chapter 59

  I hold aside the curtain, staring out the front window. Kara left during the middle of the night, slipping out of my arms. She said the timing wasn't right. No matter what I said, I couldn't stop her. One set course. I think of Dot's analogy and wish I'd never heard it.

  Don't tell them, Kara said. Don't ruin the surprise. Don't tell.

  I had tossed in my bed the rest of the night, torn by what I should do. How could I not tell? But I can't deny all my years with Kara. I owe her. I can't be disloyal with this one small request. The timing isn't right. When would it be right? Is it possible she considered what I told her about Jenna wanting to be our friend again? That she's trying to work through her own anger before she reveals herself? At breakfast Jenna asked me if I was all right. I could barely put two words together, but I didn't tell. What should have been a night that gave me the answers I wanted instead left me feeling lost, and continuing the lie only makes it worse.

  I remember Jenna's confidence when we first talked about Kara. I knew her better than anyone. Yes, she'll be angry. But she's my friend. That will never change. We'll work this out.

  Will we?

  "Watching for Kara again?"

  I spin around. Allys stands in the doorway.

  "Maybe," I answer. I drop my hand and the curtain closes.

  "It must be very confusing for you."

  "What do you mean?" I hear the nuance in her voice. The implication. But I don't know what she's implying. Did she hear us last night? "Nothing's confusing about it. She's still missing."

  "Oh, that's not what I meant. I was talking about how you think you're in love with them both."

  "What? That's a stretch. You read too much into looking out a window. They're both my good friends. That's all."

  She nods. "Oh ... of course. My mistake." I hear the smirk in her voice.

  I look back out the window. "Yeah. Your mistake."

  She's wrong. I don't think I love them both. I do love them both. And I know I shouldn't.

  I whip back around. "What do you mean by think?"

  She shrugs. "There are lots of feelings we can have for different people, but I think you can only truly give your heart to one person."

  I plop down in the chair next to the window. "Well, I guess for someone who's been married a dozen times, you've already disproved your own theory, haven't you?" I watch the quick flutter of her eyelashes. It was a low blow. I know. But what does she know about my heart or head? She asked for it, trying to dig into something that already feels like poison inside of me.

  She nods, staring at me for a few seconds, and then turns and leaves. I lean back in the chair, looking at the empty doorway where she stood. The air has left the room. I jump up and head for the front door. I need a walk. Some place where my thoughts are still my own and no one meddles in them. That is, if walks are even still what they used to be. Even the simplest things are complicated now. I grab my jacket before I walk out. Yeah, Allys. Call it whatever you want.

  Chapter 60

  I walk down the road with no direction in mind. Just away. Maybe Miesha had it right--leave it all behind.

  But I did that once and I wonder. What if I hadn't?

  Locke. Come back to us. Open your eyes. Try. You have to try.

  My father was firm in a way he rarely was, in a way that made me want to do exactly as he said. But I couldn't find my way. I tried to follow his voice. Come back. And then I heard Jenna and Kara. Their voices were frightened--as frightened as mine--and somehow that made me braver. I called to them both. I'm here. Here, Jenna. Here, Kara. They called back. Our voices touched, but our fingers were lost in the darkness. And then Jenna's voice disappeared and I could only hear Kara. Don't leave, Jenna. I wondered how long it would be until Kara disappeared and I was left completely alone. I clung to Kara's thoughts so she wouldn't leave me too.

  But what if I had tried harder? What if I had opened my eyes and done as my father said? Maybe I would have lived my life as planned. Maybe I would have died as planned.

  Instead I'm here.

  The road, the trees, the houses, they go by in a blur. I take in a deep breath and try to slow my pace, but my thoughts are stuck in a warped backward spiral. Don't get in my head, Allys. Don't even try.

  It didn't work with Gatsbro, either.

  Here. This is the only record we could find of your accident. Just so you know what happened.

  We knew.

  Gatsbro had shown us the news clip on his office Vgram, thinking we didn't remember the accident since we never spoke of it. But even though I knew what happened, I didn't know how the rest of the world thought it happened. I read the article three times. Kara read it only once.

  Fox Prosecution on Hold Pending Recovery

  BOSTON--In spite of a pending civil action, the district attorney's office reports that it has no plans at this time to prosecute Jenna Fox, 16, daughter of Matthew Fox, founder of Fox BioSystems, based here in Boston. There were no apparent witnesses to the accident. Passenger Locke Jenkins, also 16, died two weeks after the accident without regaining consciousness. Kara Manning, 17, the second passenger, sustained severe head trauma when she was thrown from the car and as a result could not give investigators any information. She died three weeks following the accident when her family removed life support.

  But we didn't die. Our families had no way of knowing. Just because our bodies were dead, it didn't mean our minds were. They had already been spirited away. Copied. Stored. Saved.

  Saved. For what?

  Fox, who didn't yet have a driver's license, is semicomatose and still in critical condition. The severity of her burns and injuries makes it impossible for her to communicate or give authorities any details about the accident. Investigators say they can't rule out the possible involvement of a second car, but it appears that high speeds and reckless driving contributed to the car veering off Route 93 and tumbling 140 feet down the steep incline. The hydrogen in the tri-energy BMW, registered to Matthew Fox, exploded on impact, leaving investigators little evidence to piece together events from the evening of the crash.

  Gatsbro watched us carefully when we were done reading, like our reactions were just another experiment in his lab. Tell me how you feel, he said.

  Crushed. Sick. Devastated. Take your pick, moron. How would you feel if you read about your own so-called death?

  But neither Kara nor I said anything to Gatsbro about the accident or the article. I always remembered Kara's warning from that first day. Never show your weakness. But the accident was our weakness. It was the beginning of where we are now. We knew the events that led to the crash. We knew everything.

  It wasn't Jenna's fault. It was
n't even Jenna who was driving.

  Chapter 61

  I find myself in the town plaza, but getting here is a blur just like the road and trees. The town center is barely that. Without the stalls of the Sunday farmers' market, it's only a large oval of tall trees with a carpet of loose leaves beneath them, and in the center a crumbled fountain that isn't working.

  There are half a dozen carts with vendors selling goods--a hot bread cart that seems to magically produce a fresh hot loaf in seconds and another cart that has gray meat packaged in plastic packs that my sister and I would have called mystery meat, like in my aunt's casseroles. Most of the vendors look like they're human, but one is definitely a Bot with no legs like Dot. He's attached to his cart like a hood ornament on a car and he's selling vTrips. To my right is a woman tending three small children who are mesmerized by one vendor's creation of sparkling cookies in the shapes of animals. The dough barks, meows, and roars as it takes shape and crystallizes into the requested form. A dozen more people either walk through the plaza or stand at other carts to buy something.

  On the far end of the plaza just outside the oval of trees is a group of land pirates huddled on a low wall. Bone and the other two I worked with are among them. They frequently glance around the plaza, like they are wary of everyone else. I probably need to be more watchful than they do. I haven't seen any Security Force Officers since I was kicked by the one on the road, but there's more to be wary about than them. I scan the perimeter of the plaza, looking into the shadows. Where is she? Is she watching me now?

  Kara? Even if she were close enough to hear me, she wouldn't answer.