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Unfinished Page 7
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Page 7
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"Where are we going?" Quinn asked as they left the main grounds of Miss Maren's lakeside compound. He'd been allowed outside in the yard-even without supervision-but he was rarely allowed to go off property.
"Partway around the lake, there's a set of metal piers and towers. We're going to climb some."
That sounded suspicious. Doc Mendal's "treats" usually involved some sort of challenge, but climbing a tower was easy. Unless he was going to make Quinn climb it blindfolded. Now that would be hard.
They hiked in silence, but it was comfortable. Doc was one of the few adults who didn't require him to speak. Quinn let the quiet of the lake seep into his skin and bones while soaking up the sunlight. Even though they'd entered the public grounds, the scrubby grasses around the lake grew wild, and nothing stirred, save a few small animals. He projected his hearing, listening hard to the little sounds they made.
"Moles," he said to Doc. "I can hear their claws rubbing together."
"That's crazy," Doc answered. "I don't think you're busy enough if you can guess the animal based on the sound of their claws from forty yards away."
"And smell and logical reasoning," he said. "It wasn't a random guess."
"Not yet ten years old and smarter than most adults," Doc muttered. "What the hell are we doing?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing. Keep moving. We're almost there."
The piers and towers appeared at the next rise. The ground was rocky here as the grass receded from the lakeshore. The metal structures were rusting, and parts had corroded, but they looked sturdy enough. Doc led him over to the first platform. "Up you go. Hands only."
Quinn kept his grumble to himself. So much for not hurting his ribs. He stood on tiptoe to grab the first strut and pulled himself up to balance his body against it so he could reach for the next handhold. It was slow work, but about halfway up, he realized his side didn't ache so much.
When Doc made it to the top and sat next to him on the narrow platform, he said, "I do good work, huh?"
Quinn laughed. "I always wondered who coded our accelerated healing. Maybe you're not the evil taskmaster I thought you were."
"Or maybe I wanted you to heal faster so I could train you harder."
"That sounds more right."
They sat quietly for a moment, and Quinn took in the beauty of Triarch City. From here, the skyscrapers downtown looked like dominoes, stacked together and ready to tumble. It had been six months since he'd been allowed to visit, but he still remembered all the smells and the relentless noise of the cars, video boards, and foot traffic all around him. So many inputs, so much chaos? It had been hard for his brain to process it all. There were no patterns to find in that mess.
"So, you haven't asked why we're out here, yet," Doc said.
"I've learned not to pry," Quinn said without thinking. He shot a nervous glance at Doc. "Sorry. That was flippant. I just, uh, thought you'd tell me when you were ready."
But Doc was laughing. "Good, I was worried they'd beaten the backbone out of you. Anyway, we're out here? Well, why don't you guess?"
The breeze played with Quinn's curls, lifting them from his forehead only to drop them again. It was so quiet here. So still. "No cameras. You can make it look like a nature lesson or a practice hike, but also take me to a place that's unobserved."
"Exactly." Doc sighed. "I assume you know Maren's not excited about Lexa."
Quinn admired his confidence-to call the boss by her first name alone. "I heard."
"Do you know why?"
A thrill ran down his back. "No."
"She's worried Caldwell is too attached. To both of you, but especially Lexa, since he was primary on her build team. That makes him vulnerable, and Maren doesn't like vulnerabilities in her lab."
"Why are you telling me this?" Quinn asked carefully, wondering if this was some kind of test. Maybe there were cameras out here, or a drone, monitoring their entire conversation.
"Because you need to know a few of us are attached. To all of you. That we care more than we can let on." Doc's stare was intent. "Do you know what a slave is?"
"Yes," he whispered.
"Quinn?are you a slave?"
Tears welled in his eyes. "Why are we talking about these things?"
"Because you need to know who you are. Not what, son. Who," Doc said. "You matter. Lexa matters. The earlier models matter. Those K600s who take care of you in the dorm? They aren't any less human than I am. Understand? Piers would tell you otherwise. So would Maren. But guess what? They're wrong."
"I know you're planning something, and I want you to know that you're not alone." Doc tapped a finger against Quinn's chest. "Some painful things are probably going to happen to you-Lexa, too-but if you choose to put the pain somewhere constructive, it'll give you purpose. Understand? Like trying to break your security protocols, so you can lie effectively. You'll need that skill, and you can do it. I'll give you some exercises to try, because it's important. But I know you can do it."
"Everything's possible," he whispered.
"Yes, it is. And for you and Lexa, everything's probable." Doc's smile was hard. "You two are the hope of a generation. They just don't know it yet. But you do. Don't carry that burden lightly."
"But why me?" Quinn asked, feeling both fear and excitement warring in his heart. "Why am I so important?"
"You represent a leap in our program. The K500s are almost human. Not quite, but close. The K600s are indistinguishable from humans. They can blend in. But you? You and Lexa are better than human. More than, you see? And that's what scares Maren. She wants to control you both. Trap your loyalty so she can use your gifts. Don't let her. Bide your time. One day, you'll make your move, and the entire world will stand still."
"What move?"
Doc started climbing down the platform. "You already know."