Once We Were. Kat Zhang

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СКАЧАТЬ if she’d heard wrong? My voice was quiet. <Maybe this is their way of responding. Instead of hiding it, keep doing it until they get it right.> The last word was a twist in our gut. <If they can find a way to fix hybrids, it won’t matter if people learn the truth about Nornand. It won’t matter if Nornand was a failure, because they could say it was just the first step. If they succeed, then Nornand was just a trial, and nobody will care.>

      If they succeed, then all those children who died were just collateral damage.

      On-screen, Jenson explained that a cure for hybridity wasn’t yet available for widespread use, but research was being conducted. They hoped to implement it in certain areas before beginning the program nationwide.

      “Security levels will be increased across the country,” he continued. “This will stay in effect for the immediate future as a preemptive measure against the possibility of hybrid backlash. Safety, as always, is our primary concern. In this case, there is a second reason.”

      Something hardened in Jenson’s face. For a second, things became personal, not professional. Then it passed, and he was just a government official again, just a guy at a podium giving a speech someone else had probably written for him.

      “We are searching,” said Jenson into the microphone, “for a child.”

      There existed nothing, nothing in the world except for his words.

      “A thirteen-year-old boy named Jaime Cortae was stolen from a hospital after being successfully treated for hybridity. Investigations have been launched, and it is believed that he was kidnapped by a small group of hybrid insurgents.”

      He was talking about our Jaime.

      “Eva?” a small voice floated out behind us.

      Kitty stood in the hallway, dressed in pajama pants and a soft blue T-shirt, her long hair plaited down her back. Outside of Nornand, Kitty and Nina never wore skirts. They almost never wore their hair down. They never wore blue. Their big, dark eyes were the same, their almost luminous skin, their matchstick limbs. But here in Emalia’s apartment, a flush in their cheeks, they’d lost a bit of that fairy look.

      Until she saw the screen, saw Jenson, and her face went white. “What’s he saying?”

      Just as she spoke, the video feed of Jenson cut away, replaced by a shot of a dark-haired couple.

      Mr. and Mrs. Cortae, read the caption.

      They stood outside, their hands twined together, looking themselves like lost children. The woman wore a long, heavy skirt, though it was summer. Her husband’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground, but hers kept moving—around and around, in all directions, searching. Searching for what? For Jaime? For answers? For justice? Or for a way out? An escape route from the camera jutting into her private grief.

      “He was healthy,” she cried. “He was healthy, and they took him. They—”

      Then she and her husband were gone. Jenson once again dominated the screen.

      No. No, go back. Let her speak. Let us hear her. I needed to know what she had to say. What did she know about Jaime and her other, lost son? Was she fighting for him? Did she want him back, no matter what? Had she been coerced into giving up her child, like our parents? Did she regret it, every day?

      “His family is, of course, devastated to have come so close to having a healthy child back home,” Jenson said. “We are likewise highly concerned for Jaime’s well-being and are working diligently to secure his safe return.”

      Was that really what Jaime’s mother had meant by healthy? A boy with part of him unnecessarily stripped away? Or had she thought Jaime healthy before he ever left for Nornand?

      <Kitty> Addie reminded me softly. <She’s scared, Eva.>

      I forced myself to focus back on Kitty’s face. Her hands had rolled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.

      Sabine stepped forward, shielding her from the screen. “Hi, I’m Sabine. Sorry to barge in while you were sleeping.”

      I grabbed the remote and lowered the volume, reducing Jenson’s voice to a murmur. “It’s just a speech, Kitty. Don’t worry about it, okay? Why don’t you go get dressed?”

      Kitty studied our face, then nodded, her expression unreadable. I never knew exactly how much to screen from Kitty and Nina. They were only months older than Lyle. Sometimes, they seemed younger. Sometimes, so much older.

      “She seems sweet,” Sabine said once we heard Kitty shut our bedroom door. “I’m glad you guys—” She hesitated. “I mean, just, it’s always nice when they can rescue them young.” She stared at the television again, her cheeks flushed but her eyes cold.

      “You know Jenson,” Ryan said to her. “Personally, I mean.”

      Now that Ryan brought it up, I could see it, too. Sabine didn’t watch Jenson like he was a stranger, a hated figurehead. She watched him like we did. Someone who had felt his fingers press our skin against our bones.

      “Personally?” Sabine’s voice was a darkly amused trill. “I guess. He came personally to my house when I was eleven years old. He personally forced me into his car. Personally delivered me to his institution.” Her smile was so bitter I could taste it on our tongue. “He’s moved up in life since then. But we were personally acquainted once.”

      The phone rang. Numbly, I answered.

      “It’s Christoph again,” the voice on the other end said. “Put Sabine back on.”

      I handed the phone over. Sabine walked a little ways away, her back to us, the phone cord stretched out behind her. “Yeah, I’m watching. Christoph, calm down; I’ll be right there.” The phone clanged back into its cradle. Sabine was already moving for the door. “I’ve got to go. Christoph’s going to explode if I don’t find him.”

      “Are you going to the meeting tomorrow night?” I called after her.

      “It’s not going to be tomorrow night anymore.” Jackson hurried after Sabine, speaking over his shoulder. “Peter should be back home in less than an hour. Meeting will probably be late tonight, once everyone’s off work.”

      “I—” I began to say, just as Sabine asked, “You guys are going to be there, right?”

      “Emalia’s against it.” I shrugged, shaking our head. “She’s worried we’ll—I don’t know—get snatched off the street or something.”

      Sabine nodded. “I’ll talk to Peter, see what I can do.”

      We said our good-byes, and then Sabine and Jackson were gone. The television played some commercial about toaster pastries. I put it on mute.

      I sank onto the couch. After a moment, Ryan joined me.

      “Jaime will be all right.” He took our shoulder, tried to guide us gently against the backrest. “He’s with Dr. Lyanne.”

      Dr. Lyanne, who was also in hiding. Who had been wrong about the government’s views on Nornand. But what was the point of saying all that aloud? СКАЧАТЬ