“Let me make this exceedingly clear to you,” Ednit says, beginning to circle Jelza’s chair. She swallows hard, tracking him with her eyes even as her fingers further tangle in her hair. “As you know, the project kept your original body frozen in storage, donated to our ongoing scientific explorations. I know the procedure was … hard on you.” A deliberate, pregnant pause. “If you’d like, there remains a possibility we could return you to your original body.”
Jelza squares her shoulders, straightening against the chair frame. “I’m grateful for what the monarch did for me,” she says, every syllable carefully selected.
“Grateful, perhaps, but resentful. Don’t deny it,” Ednit says, clicking his tongue. “You even had the audacity to capsule and sell your memories surrounding the gift we bestowed … risking exposure of the entire program. You’re lucky the monarch was able to retrieve that sphere, or the consequences would not have been pleasant.”
Jelza hangs her head. “I … underestimated the stress of the transition. I miss my old body.”
“You miss hauling around your corpse, you mean.” Sighing, Ednit adjusts his glasses. “A full reversal is possible. But in exchange for that expenditure of resources, we would expect your complete cooperation—and your discretion—regarding the search for Kori.”
Jelza’s fingers go still, and her hands clasp together in an anxious knot in her lap, like a silent prayer to the Dreamgiver. I wonder if she believes. I wonder what the devout would make of my mother and her cronies so casually playing god, transferring souls as surely as they’re transferring minds—or what they would make of Aspect, for that matter, independently breathed into being.
“While if you don’t cooperate,” Ednit says, like his flippant words aren’t turning Jelza’s entire world on its axis, “your old body will be dissected in the name of science.”
I take a slow, shuddering breath that makes my ribs rattle. Undeniably, Jelza regrets her involvement in the Evolution Project. I wish I could peer into her mind now. Together, surely we could take on Ednit and his twin enforcers. In fact, this might be our best chance at interrogating Ednit without being immediately seen and reported by someone else. But it comes down to if I trust Jelza, and if Jelza can find it in her heart to trust me—the daughter of the woman who stole her body, manipulating Jelza’s life to her own selfish ends.
Quickly, I glance around Jelza’s home for something,anythingelse that could give me insight into this woman. How to convince her I am nothing like my mother. How to convince here I’m here to help, and willing to take up arms to stop Chloe’s manipulation from ruining (or altogether ending) anyone else’s lives.
Most of the home is gorgeous, albeit standard for dayfolk elites. Real marble countertops, a shining silver sink, the mahogany kitchen table and chairs, and actual kitchen appliances like a stovetop, oven, and microwave, since better-off dayfolk can actually afford to buy andcook raw ingredients, rather than subsisting entirely on standardized government rations. None of that tells me anything aboutwho Jelza is, only that volunteering for the Evolution Project rewarded her with more than most will ever have.
The fridge, though. Magnets pin haphazard papers all over it, scribbled with bursts of vivid color that have no respect whatsoever for staying inside the lines. Coloring pages, clearly done by a child—ugly as anything, but displayed with undeniable pride. And between those coloring pages, photos.
A printed sonogram, all deep blacks and blues. On the top left corner,Dawnwritten neatly in ink; on the bottom left,IVF Round 7.
An infant, swaddled in a simple blanket. Jelza cradles the child with one arm, apparently having taken the photograph with the other.
Last but not least, something seemingly more recent: Jelza and a little girl who’s her spitting image—deep-brown skin, beautiful braids woven with pink and purple beads, and brown eyes bright with innocent joy. At the frame’s edge, Jelza holds a sparkly pink backpack aloft, sporting a goofy smile that Dawn enthusiastically mirrors. Scribbled in the photo’s corner:Starting Second Grade.
Dawn is my best shot at convincing Jelza that I’m on her side, the side of the ordinary people with ordinary families who don’t want needless war. But if Jelza doesn’t believe me … or if she’s ultimately loyal to my mother, and this entire plan indicates a malfunction in my synthetic brain … whatwouldn’ta loving mother do for her daughter? If Ednit and his guards don’t unceremoniously execute me here, might Jelza do it herself? If a stranger threatened Aspect, I would do the exact same.
“Aspect,” I breathe shakily.
The mech pivots to hold my gaze. “Yes, Kori?”
“If this goes badly …” I click the trigger on the side of my helmet, causing it to collapse down to a thin ring at my neck, unveiling my head. “Tell Adria I went down fighting.”
Breath caught in my throat, pulse roaring through my bloodstream, I extend two gloved fingers and lightly, just barely, tap the glass of Jelza’s window.
Ednit and the enforcers remain too focused on their charge to notice. They’ve circled Jelza’s chair halfway, so now their backs are to the window, whereas Jelza is looking right at it. Right atme.Her dark brown eyes dart to mine, fleeting but sharp, so that the others won’t notice. Her lips press into a tight line. I can feel her rapidly judging the situation: What is the monarch’s daughter suddenly doing here, outside her window?
How am I possibly supposed to answer, in a moment’s time, without alerting Ednit and his guards? I track Jelza’s eyes as she considers the guards. Is this it? Has my entire plan blown to bits? She can’t turn me in, or this is the end of the line.
I press my palms together in the clearest possible indication of pleading, then point to the baby photo on the fridge.Dawn, I try to mouth, the only word I know might engender some measure of tenuous trust.Dawn.Again and again, dipping my pressed palms together in a gesture of exaggerated, desperate pleading. If only she could see the mechanical reality of my seemingly human hands.
I’m like you, I scream inside my mind.I’m Evolved.
I must look like I’m on illicit substances. I must look like a low-charge mech having a core-system malfunction. There’s no chance this is going to work. I’ve really done it this time—after all the impossible plans I’ve gotten away with, there’s no coming back from this one. I’ve made my last gamble; I have nothing left to wager.
But Jelza has already looked away from me, determined not to cue the enforcers into what’s happening at the window. “Forgive me, Doctor,” she says, pinning him in place with the sheer force of her gaze. “But I can’t believe I was granted this new body just for you to drag it about like a dog.”
Ednit groans, like a man whose unruly toddler threw a tantrum over their rations. “I could have your old body incinerated by next sleepcycle’s end. And you’d have no one but yourself to blame. All because you wouldn’t cooperate with a simple request, to assist in locating the monarch’s daughter—”
Jelza leans forward, hands pressed together in her lap. “How does onelosea daughter, sir?” As soon as the words leave her mouth, I see the barest flash of panic cross her face at what she’s done, but it’s too late to take it back.
Even as one enforcer readies his heatshot rifle, a second enforcer hauls Jelza upright by the back of her shirt. “Would you like to find out?” he spits.
Ednit stammers like a recording cutting in and out. “Stop,stop, that won’t be necessary … Do you know how muchpaperwork—?”
“We’re here on the monarch’s orders.” The enforcer doesn’t even loosen his grip on Jelza’s collar. “Not yours.”
