She pressed a hand to the base of her scratchy throat, thinking of that impossibly heavy feeling in her lungs, how the water had felt too thick, too solid. “But . . . how?”
“Bonebreak and Ironmage. They weren’t about to let you die, not when their trading rights were on the line. They made the bargain with you, and they were afraid if you died, no one else would uphold it. So they bribed the Mosca Chief Assessor to change the settings on the Gauntlet. They couldn’t influence the stock algorithm or its puzzles, but they could tweak the raw materials it had to work with. We knew the Gauntlet often pits runners against their nightmares, and I knew water was one of your greatest fears. So they swapped out the water supply it used with stasis fluid, and ensured the Gauntlet would be positioned over a cavern they could use to revive you in secret.” He paused. “Unfortunately, neither of them survived to see their plan work. I went through with it on my own.”
“You mean you cheated.” She stared at him. “But the Kindred don’t cheat.”
He smiled. “I had a good teacher. She showed me that there’s a place for cheating. That sometimes cheating is necessary.”
She started to feel a twinge of panic. “But if I won by cheating, if I didn’t really sacrifice myself, then it didn’t work. . . .”
He stroked her hair, calming her down. “You didn’t cheat. I did. You still won.” He took her hand carefully, rubbing some life back into her fingers. “Don’t you feel it? The evolutionary jump?”
She stared at his hands on hers, and she did feel a twinge of something different. She felt as though she had greater control over her movements. As though her hand had twice the number of nerves, twice the muscle. In a way, it was similar to the paragon burst: as though she had enhanced strength. And yet she didn’t feel the echo of other humans’ DNA any longer, boosting her own. This extra strength was all hers.
“And the Axion?”
“Kindred troops are still fighting them in the farthest provinces. Most of the immediate battlegrounds have been reclaimed. Station 10-91. And here, on Armstrong. Nok said the fighting was bad. They lost a lot of people at first. They would have lost everyone if Rolf hadn’t shut down the reactor core they were targeting.”
She took a deep breath.
Cassian nodded quietly. “The damage is great everywhere. It will take years to rebuild everything, and to establish a new system to govern the reality that the evolutionary jump triggered. The Kindred are more powerful now, and that makes the Mosca and the Gatherers nervous. We must decide how to balance our power fairly and, of course, determine what to do with the Axion. And then there are humans. You’re an intelligent species now. The Intelligence Council made it official when the stock algorithm declared you the winner of the Gauntlet.”
He looked to the window, and she followed his gaze. Her vision was clearing, and she could now make out some of the figures. There were Mali and Leon, standing in the town square outside, working on rebuilding the sheriff’s office, which must have been damaged. Willa was there, too. And then Anya skipped up to join them.
Cora sat straighter. “Anya! You found her?”
Cassian nodded. “Mali and Leon brought her back from Fuel Station Theta. It turns out, perhaps unsurprisingly, she had already managed to free herself. They found her trying to rewire a shuttle. Another few days, and she would have escaped on her own.”
Cora smiled. She felt, for the first time in a long time, a flicker of hope.
Cassian took her hand. “When you are ready, there are many people who want to see you.”
46
Cora
IT WAS A WARM afternoon on Armstrong, three days after she’d regained consciousness, when Cora was finally strong enough to get out of bed. Her lungs still burned whenever she took too deep a breath, but as soon as she stepped through the doorway into the breeze, she felt renewed.
She looked down at the paper in her hand. Cassian had printed out the stock algorithm’s file on her that contained the basic facts about her life on Earth.
Name: Cora Mason. Age: 17. Birthplace: Richmond, Virginia. Last known Earth location: 39.0276° N, 83.9197° W. Intelligence per human IQ: 126. Unique talents: Gifted at vocals and song construction.
Most of her previous life was still a haze or else blackness entirely—but slowly, like single frames in a movie, memories were coming back one by one.
Charlie.
Sadie.
An oak tree outside her bedroom window.
Nok saw her in the doorway and came over, balancing her baby on her hip. “Ready for the tour? I’ll show you the renovated town first.” The sheriff’s badge hung around her neck, glistening in the sunlight. “We renamed the town. The moon is still called Armstrong, but it isn’t a preserve anymore. We’re free to govern ourselves now, no Intelligence Council oversight. We’ve named this place New London.” She gave a guilty smile as they strode into the town square. “We should have put it to a vote, maybe, but I was partial to the name, since London was where both Rolf and I lived before coming here.”
“I thought Rolf didn’t like London,” Cora said, shading her eyes from the sun. She had to move slowly, her muscles still weak.
“He didn’t. Which is why the name is perfect. New London. A new start. That’s his legacy.” She wore a look of pride, mixed with grief, as she gazed out over her town. Her fingers touched the smooth metal of the sheriff’s badge. “I decided I’m going to keep my title. Mother Sheriff, that’s what they’ve started calling me. The people here are excited to have a baby around, and with Rolf gone, everyone’s pitched in to help me with her. It feels like a family. Keena’s getting stronger each day, and even from the hospital she’s teaching me how to work with the governance council. We’ve modified the role of sheriff. It isn’t a dictatorship anymore.” Nok smiled as Sparrow gripped the badge, getting her sticky fingerprints all over it. “It’s a position of spiritual leadership. Of guidance. Of family.”
She smiled proudly.
And there was much to be proud of, Cora realized. The artificial village they had first stumbled upon had seemed so idyllic at first glance, until they had realized that the outdated posters and fake flowers meant it was only a sham. But now real flowers adorned each freshly painted building. A carpenter’s workshop had been set up at the far end of town to make repairs to all the buildings and expand the town to accommodate its several hundred residents. Men and women of all ages worked together, as the sound of saws and hammers filled the air, along with the murmurs of chatting in the distance. She caught sight of someone waving from the roof of a schoolhouse and shaded her eyes.
“Is that . . . Makayla?”
Makayla waved harder. She was perched on the shingles, hammer in hand, with a big grin on her face. Jenny and Christopher looked up from the other side of the roof, waving as well.
“It’s the kids from the Hunt,” Cora said incredulously.
“Oh, yeah,” Nok said. “They’ve been a huge help around here. You can catch up with them tonight at the party . . . hang on. Hold Sparrow for a minute. I have a surprise for you.”
Before Cora could object, Nok hoisted the baby into Cora’s arms and turned to one of the faded posters advertising a town square dance that had never happened. Cora looked down at the baby in her arms. She had Nok’s dark hair and Rolf’s small mouth. As the baby yawned, Cora felt a thrill for Nok and everything she and Rolf had done to change Armstrong to a proper colony. Humanity’s first colony. And Sparrow was the first human born there.
Nok ripped off the old poster, then unrolled another paper and hammered it to the post, stepping back to admire her work.
INDEPENDENCE DAY PARTY
“About time we had a real celebration,” Nok said. “I’ve been staring at those fake old posters for so long.” She paused, her face growing serious. “It’s been so hard without Rolf. I’m glad we finally have something to celebrate.” She took Sparrow back, cooing to the baby. “Come on. You’ve got to see the farm we’re building to hold all the
animals from the menagerie.”
Nok walked her through the settlement, explaining the governance system they had established. The evolutionary jump hadn’t happened instantaneously, as Serassi had warned, and some of New London’s residents were experiencing it sooner than others and struggling to deal with the changing sensations of increased intuition and enhanced strength. So Nok had set up volunteer counselors to help them cope, a sort of mentor program. When they reached the mines, Nok explained how Rolf had envisioned Armstrong mining with machines, not human labor, but the explanations were so technical Cora only shook her head. Even with the evolutionary jump, she wasn’t smart enough to understand Rolf’s logic.
“These people are lucky to have you,” Cora said.
“We have big plans for this place,” Nok added as she turned toward the horizon. “There are more resources than Ellis ever made use of, trees and minerals, that we have plans to extract sustainably. We have a chance here to do something Earth can’t: start over without the shadow of the Industrial Revolution, without pollution or environmental degradation. Generations from now, when Sparrow’s grandchildren have spread as far as those mountains in the distance, this planet will be just as well cared for as it is now.”
Cora caught the message in Nok’s words, though Nok hadn’t spoken it outright: even with Rolf’s death, Nok hadn’t changed her mind about Earth. She wasn’t going back. And though it filled Cora with a sadness to think of her friend so far away, she was proud of Nok.
“You’ll do a good job here,” Cora said. “Sparrow will grow up well.”
Cassian appeared in the distance, crossing the desert toward the mining operation. Cora gave Nok a long hug and then turned and met him halfway, where the afternoon sun cast their shadows across the sand.
“You shouldn’t overtax yourself,” Cassian said. “You’re still weak.”
“I’m feeling better. You forget that the evolutionary jump makes us stronger. Heal faster, too.” Cora glanced back at the mine. “They’ve done so much good here. It’s heartening to see.”
They headed slowly back toward town.