I backed a step away from him, trying to process it all. I’d never wanted to believe that my father was dead. For years, I had hoped that he somehow survived, but not like this. Never like this.
He nodded toward the jar I was still holding. “Can we please put those away now?”
The little jar in my hand flickered with pinpricks of light. As I thought back to where it had come from and where I’d first been mined, a startling idea hit me.
“You told Dean Berg to mine me, didn’t you?” I asked. “You wanted my dream seeds from the Forge School.”
“I was curious about you, yes,” he said.
“How far back does your plotting go? Did I get into the Forge School on my own, or did they let me in on purpose so the dean could mine me?”
He shook his head. “Getting into Forge was all you,” he said. “You applied by your own choice and made it in. I never would have had access to you otherwise, but then you were right there, at Forge, where Berg was already mining seeds from his students. The temptation was irresistible. It felt like fate. I wondered if a seed from you might trigger something old of your father’s inside me.”
“Did it work?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then you really don’t have any of my dad’s feelings or memories left?” I asked. “Not one?”
Orson shook his head. “Do you feel any of Althea in you?”
I didn’t, but I was wary about how to answer him. “Sometimes,” I lied.
“How much? Memories? Feelings?”
“I’m not here to talk about me.”
“But you’re all that matters now,” he said. “Let me try to explain how important you are. In all of my experiments, only one seeding has resulted in a full-blown consciousness from the seed: mine. But now, you’ve recognized me as only Rosie could know her father. You identify with your seed, not your host. We need to study you. We need your cooperation. I’ve been dying to talk to you. I’ve begged Huma, but she says we’re morally obligated to suppress the Rosie side of you in favor of Althea.”
“Nobody’s getting suppressed anymore,” I said. “I can’t believe what you’ve done. You had no right!”
“You weren’t supposed to even know about it,” he said. “None of the other students ever did. It wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”
“Not hurt me!” I exclaimed. I held the jar out before me. “Look what’s happened! Dean Berg stole my life from me! Look at me now! Look at me!” I stood before him in someone else’s body. I was so enraged that I could barely speak. I lifted the jar higher again. “I want to go back in my old body. Is she here? Can you put me back?”
Orson lifted his hands like a catcher, ready in case I threw the jar. “You know it’s too late for that,” he said.
I opened the incubator door again and held it open so I could aim my next throw inside, where it would do the most damage. “Where’s my body? Where’s Rosie?” I asked. “Tell me or I swear I’ll smash every jar.”
“You can’t,” he said quickly. “Those are people’s dreams in there. You were once in a jar like that.”
I threw a jar into the case where it broke a dozen other jars. Glass and sparks flew.
“No!” Orson cried, leaping forward.
“Stop!” I grabbed another jar and wound up again. I glared defiantly at Orson, who froze three paces away. “Tell me where she is!”
“Sandy Berg keeps her in a storage facility in Colorado,” Orson said. “It’s called the Onar Clinic. It’s outside Denver. For pity’s sake, put the jar down.”
“Is she still alive?” I asked.
“She’s alive, I swear. Sandy’s taking very good care of her. She’s in a stasis, asleep. He was worried that she would harm herself, but this way she’s safe.”
“Safe?” I said, appalled. I had been in that so-called stasis myself. It killed me to think that the original version of me was still there after all these months. “She’s in hell.”
The crunching of glass came from behind me, and I whipped around.
Diego stood tall in the doorway, surveying the damage. “What is all this?” he asked calmly.
I kept my jar raised high. “I have to leave here now,” I said. “Can you take me home, Dad? Please?”
Diego’s gaze flicked from me to Orson while I stood there between my two false fathers.
“She isn’t Althea anymore, is she?” Diego asked.
Orson shook his head in a brief negative. “I’d say she’s more of a hybrid at this point. We need to study her further.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Your daughter’s gone,” I said to Diego. The truth felt brutal, but I had to risk that Diego would respect it. “I’m sorry, but I’m all that’s left, and I’m not Althea. I’m begging you, get me out of here.”
Diego peered at me a long moment, and then nodded. “I’ll call up the jet.”
I smiled grimly and turned once more to Orson. “You said you tried one of my dream seeds on yourself once, right? But it didn’t do you any good?”
“Yes, that’s right,” he said warily.
“It didn’t work on you because you’re death,” I said. “All this? It’s just death. And you’re the king of it.”
I slid my last jar onto the counter where it flickered its tiny lights. Done. I was finished.
15
ROSIE
GUARDIAN
JENNY, THE YOUNGER SISTER, is usually friendly, but Portia keeps aloof. She makes a point of taking Gingerbread away if she curls beside me on the couch. They take their phones and computers with them when they leave for work and school, but they’re always generous with their food. It takes hardly anything to fill my shrunken belly at first, but I keep at it, and soon I can eat more. By the fourth day, they let me cook, and I take over the kitchen.
Mac ’n’ cheese. Cookie dough. French toast. French fries. More ketchup. Grilled cheese with tomato soup. Pasta with ham and alfredo sauce. Fudge. As I start to regain weight, I itch to exercise. My strength is puny, but I find a yoga channel on TV, and every day I try the moves. I add in push-ups and sit-ups and squats, making it up as I go, doing repetitions until my muscles burn. My nights are riddled with horrific nightmares, so I nap during the day instead, as best as I can.
And all the time, without discussing it, the time bomb’s ticking. Jenny and Portia are counting down to their mom’s return from overseas, and I know that’s when they’ll call in for the reward. I need a plan before then, but with no car and no money, my choices are limited. I don’t want to go public. That much I know. I refuse to surrender my life to adults who think they know what’s best for me, and one way or another, whether with Berg or my parents or Family Services, once the world knows where I am, I’m not going to be free anymore.