Across A Star-Swept Sea Part 27

"Oh, no you won't," she said. "That Reduced girl is going to Galatea, and she's not coming back. You think I'd miss an opportunity like that? I saw her name all over your notes the other night. Any work you want to do with hera"and I know you well enough to tell you're just itching to start your little experimentsa"you can do in Galatea or not at all."

"Please," Justen scoffed. "Do you honestly think that the Albians are going to let you leave here with any of the visitors? They've learned their lesson after yesterday."

Now it was Vania's turn to laugh. "Please," she mocked. "They're already gone."

Justen's face drained of blood.

"Andromeda Phoenix knows aristo tricks. She couldn't talk Kai or his aristo sweetheart into coming along, but we don't need them anyway. The important one is the Reduced girl, and it was ever so easy to convince Captain Phoenix that these s.h.i.+ny, sparkly aristos do not have Tomorrow's best interests at heart. She didn't want that controlling princess or her stupid sidekick trying to stop us either." Vania gave him a simpering, closed-lip smile. "We're of such similar minds, Andromeda Phoenix and I. They're halfway there already, and I only stayed behind to give you one last chance to come along."

He stared at her in shock. "Vania, don't you think Andromeda's also smart enough to see through your ruse?"

"What ruse?" she looked mystified and a little hurt. "It's only Albians who think things are so very bad in our country, Justen. Well, Albians and you. True Galateans are much happier now."

"I know a lot of Galateans who would claim otherwise," he grumbled. "And Andromeda won't be happy at all when she hears about your plans for her friend."

"Why not?" Vania shrugged off his concerns. "We're not going to hurt the girl. It's not like we need to drink her blood, right? A few genetests. Besides, at least there she'll have friends of her own kind."

"The victims of the drug are not Reduced," he growled.

"Well, you'd know best. Please come," Vania said, placing her hand on his arm. "I don't want to be enemies with you anymore. I love you so much, Justen. You're my best friend. Please come back. We can smooth over everything with my father and the populace. I don't blame you for getting sidetracked here. Aristos can be a bewildering. And I know that Father wasn't letting you work on the projects you really wanted to. But we can convince him together. That Reduced girl will change everythinga"for DAR and a well, for the revolution, too."

"How so?"

Vania gave him a pitying smile. "I know how much guilt you've been feeling over the pinks, Justen. And, believe me, I feel the same. It's just not right for the aristos. And it's like you said. Seeing Tomorrow made me realize ita"how perverted their form of Reduction is. It's not real Reduction at all, is it?"

Justen nodded, relieved, and took Vania by the hands. "I felt that way, too. Oh, Vania, thank you so much. Seeing Tomorrow, seeing how she lives, the light that s.h.i.+nes out of hera"I can't believe I was ever so crude as to call the effects of that drug Reduction."

"Exactly. For the aristos to truly get their just desserts, it's only right that they be really Reduced. Permanently. And now that there's a real Reduced in Galatea, we can figure out how to make it happen."

Justen must have dropped her hands. He must have stepped back. But he couldn't tell. His body seemed to go numb. "No," he whispered.

Vania looked confused, then angry.

There was a roaring in his ears. "You can't." He thought he said it. He must have said it, based on the rage that overtook Vania's features.

"It's our turn to win, Justen," she said, her voice sounding sad and a little lost. "How can you not understand that? We've been punished long enough for what our ancestors did. It's their turn for punishment now, and our turn to rule."

One night, not long ago, Justen had floated in a starlit cove with a girl who told him, There is only one way to recover from the evil humanity does to itself: overcome it. We can only be held responsible for what we ourselves do. Bad things happen in this world, and we are judged on how we respond. Do we take part in evil, or do we fight against it with all we have?

He had to fight. But he couldn't stop Vania on his own. There was only one man in New Pacifica who could.

The Wild Poppy.

JUSTEN GRABBED VANIA'S HAND and shouted for a guard. It had the effect of bringing at least three heads swerving in his direction, but no more. A crowd of hundreds, and dozens of flutternotes in the air above thema"but not a single chance of calling for help.

"What are youa"" She writhed in his grip, then brought the side of her palm down on his wrist.

He winced and his hold on her slipped. She slammed her knee against his groin.

"Are you trying to start a war?" she whispered in his ear as he grunted. "Not so fast, Justen. There's plenty of time for that after we perfect our drug."

He grabbed at her again, but she easily evaded him, spun, then took his elbow in her hand. A lightning bolt of pain shot through his arm.

"Honestly, Justen, perhaps you should have spent a little time outside the lab. Have you any idea how much combat training I've had?" She let go of him and he stumbled back, gasping. "I'm going to a.s.sume that's a firm no to my offer. A shame." She bit her lip. "But at least now I know for sure. I've tried so hard to help you, but you've chosen your path."

"Vania, don't." The agony spread from his throat to his fingertips. This was no mere pressure point. He ran his other hand across his sleeve and pulled out a p.r.i.c.ker. Empty. Justen turned his eyes to Vania. "What is this?" he gasped.

"Oh, don't look so betrayed," she said, annoyed. "It's just a mild neurotoxin. I could have used something way worse on you and you know it."

And with that, she melted into the crowd, leaving Justen fighting for breath. He needed to find the medic station. But more than that, he needed to find the Poppy. If the rumors were true, if he was an Albian aristo, then the spy must be at the luau. But he had no idea how to even begin searching.

Justen clutched at his arm and searched through the crowd with watering eyes, but he didn't even see anyone he recognized. Persis, Isla, Andrinea"where were they all?

Persis was right. He should have gotten a palmport like everyone else in Albion. Instead, he stumbled toward the palace wall. If he remembered correctly, there was a public wallport near the restroom here. If he was lucky, there might even be a medic kit in the restroom.

The medic kit he found was standard, but it still contained an epinephrine p.r.i.c.ker and a pain relief p.r.i.c.ker. He utilized them both, then logged into the wallport, his fingers straining with every b.u.t.ton he typed as the medicine took effect.

Noemi, it's Justen. I need you to put me in touch with the Wild Poppy immediately on a matter of utmost importance.

He watched the portal open and a sad little generic flutter zip out. How long would it take to reach Noemi? Should he try Isla, too? At least she was here.

Justen ma.s.saged his arm with his good hand, sweating as the pain radiated out from his elbow. How long would he have to wait? Could he even afford to wait? Slowly, feeling returned to his fingers and shoulders, and the pain subsided. He leaned his forehead against the cool stone wall, breathing heavily.

A tiny golden poppy flitted by his nose and sunk into the wallport. Justen turned back to read the screen.

h.e.l.lo, Justen Helo. What do you want from me?

Twenty-nine.

PERSIS MOVED THROUGH THE crowd as quickly as she could in her gown, the voluminous fabric undulating about her legs like real waves as she hurried, her eyes searching everywhere for a glimpse of Justen. The flutter Noemi had forwarded to her sounded desperate, but what could Justen possibly have to contact the Wild Poppy about so urgently at the party?

Another generic flutter buzzed her palm. Now that he had a flutter from the Wild Poppy, Justen could contact her directly. It was a risky move, but the chance that someone could follow a flutter back to her, especially in this crowd, was slim. She slipped her wristlock aside to allow his message entrance.

I need to meet you.

She laughed.

I think not. I have a policy of not revealing myself to Galatean revolutionaries. Tell me what you want. Your sister, I suppose?

At last she saw him, leaning against a column by one of the public wallports. She stationed herself several yards away, on the outskirts of a group of people watching the fire dance. From the corner of her eye, Persis saw Justen read her flutter, then bang his right hand against the wallport in frustration. Persis narrowed her eyes. A moment later, she received: I'm not a revolutionary! Not that kind, anyway. Typing takes too long. Please, you have to believe me.

Well, she had been telling him since he'd arrived to get a palmport. Now, perhaps, he'd learned his lesson. She sent back: Why would I ever trust the person who invented pinks? Why would I trust someone who takes secret meetings with Vania Aldred? You've lied to everyone who has tried to help you in Albion: Princess Isla, Noemi Dorric, even your little girlfriend Persis Blake. But I know who you are, I know what you've done, and you're lucky to be hearing from me at all.

At last, the words she'd wanted to cast at him so long. At the wallport, she watched him read her flutter, and even from a distance, she could see his chest rise as he took a deep breath. He was gripping his arm, flexing the muscles of his left hand as if it was bothering him. Clenching his jaw, he leaned over and began typing, while Persis waited impatiently.

Seriously, Justen. Palmport.

There is no apology I can make that would be sufficient. Yet I swear to you that I never meant to hurt anyone. The Reduction drug was an accident. I was trying to make a new treatment for DAR, based on the architecture of the aris...o...b..ain, and I stumbled upon a compound that would, if administered to aristos, cause the effects you've seen. I made the mistake of telling my uncle.

By the time the flutter reached her, Justen had started typing again, and another flutter soon zipped after the first.

I promise I didn't know what he intended. The day Queen Gala died, and I saw her body desecrated and her whole court Reduced, I lost all faith in the revolution. I went to Aldred. I tried to get him to stop. When that didn't work, I even tried to sabotage the pills. He started to suspect what I was doing and restricted my access to the lab. That's when I ran away to Albion.

She shot back: My heart breaks for the poor little mad scientist cut off from his lab.

But then she remembered what the medic at the prison had said, about how the pills weren't working as well as they used to. Had that been due to Justen's sabotage? After a moment, he replied: You want to know why Lacan recovered as quickly as he did? It was because the pills he was getting weren't full strength. If you were to get my sister, she could tell you herself.

Was that what Remy had been doing at the Lacan estate in the first place? Persis would ask the girl. Justen's flutter continued, its tone as frantic as his typing.

Believe me or don't. It doesn't matter. But you need this information: Vania Aldred has taken two of the visitors back to Galatea, including the Reduced one, and she plans to keep them there. She believes that Galateans can use the Reduced girl to create a drug that will cause permanent Reduction a and I'm afraid she may be right.

This is the absolute truth. I have nothing to gain from telling you thisa"and nothing to lose, either.

Persis frowned. Justen was a medic, and no one knew better than he how to create a Reduction drug. If he believed that scientists could use Tomorrow to make the effects permanent, then it was worth paying attention to. And yet, what if the whole story was a lie, engineered by Vania Aldred for the purpose of a trap?

She watched Justen wait by the wallport, growing increasingly agitated. She watched him pacing, foot tapping, then slamming his right hand against the wall in frustration. He turned around and their eyes met.

She smiled sweetly and waved at him.

He gave her a halfhearted wave in return. Did he honestly think the Wild Poppy owed him a response?

Persis beckoned to him, but he gave a little shake of his head and turned back to the port, typing furiously again. She waited as patiently as possible, but he seemed to be writing some kind of book over there.

Enough was enough. She marched over, the material of her skirt churning like the waves of a stormy sea. "What are you writing, dearest?" she cooed. "Love notes to a strange woman?"

He whirled around, blocking her view of the screen. "None of your business, Persis."

He had that wrong. "You've been avoiding me for the entire party and now you're melded to the wallport. People are going to think we're fighting. We can't have that."

He groaned. "Not now, Persis. I'm in the middle ofa"I can't. Not now."

She arced her neck to look behind him. "You always say that."

He slammed his hand over the display b.u.t.tons and the port closed. "And I always mean it. Now leave me alone."

Persis looked at him, her gaze steady and dangerous. "Show me," she said slowly, "what you were typing."

Justen stared at her for a moment, then raised his voice. "Excuse me, sir?" he called over her shoulder. She whirled to find a young courtier who looked vaguely familiar turning in their direction. "My sweet lady Persis is wild to try the fire dance, but I'm afraid I have not yet had the chance to learn the Albian style. Would you do me the honor of dancing with her for a bit so that I might observe you and learn?"

Persis snapped her jaw shut. The little sea sponge. So he hadn't been ignoring all her lectures on courtly behavior!

The young aristo nodded. "Of course, Citizen Helo! It would be my pleasure."

Justen gave her a grim smile and handed her off to the courtier. Carvel? Carrell? His name hovered just beyond the reach of her memory. As the man led her toward the dancers, she cast a glance over her shoulder at Justen, but he'd returned to the port.

Oh well. She'd find out eventually.

She stepped into the dance with her partner and immediately began messaging the rest of the League. The courtier probably thought she was acting a little too familiar with the way she draped her wrists over his shoulders and closed her eyes. That Persis Blakea"what a flirt.

She told Andrine to find the other visitors and confirm that Andromeda and Tomorrow had departed. She told Tero to load up a boat with as many supplements as he could think of, as well as at least three different types of genetemp doses, just in case. She told Isla that the party had taken a rather desperate turn.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Justen standing there, his eyes glowing with the flames of the fire. "I think I've figured out the steps now."

He cut in, and the courtier departed. Persis's eyebrows drew together. How did he get here before his flutter? Were they too close to the fire? Flutters would melt in high heat conditions. She danced a little way from the flames.

"I don't like arguing with you, Persis," said Justen, as he spun her around. He still hadn't learned the moves of the fire dance. His motions were too large, his hands too rough.

She found she didn't really mind. "And I don't like you sending love notes to other girls right in front of me."

He gave her a wry smile. "What makes you think it's another girl?"

What makes you think it isn't? She almost asked him aloud. Common wisdom held the Wild Poppy was an Albian aristo, and to the Albians, that meant he must be a man. But the Galateans had been ruled by queens for centuries. Women there had as much power as men. But even Justen, whose friend Vania was a revolutionary captain, whose own grandmother had invented the cure, took the story at face value.

His flutter sunk into her palm.

I understand now that you are the reason Noemi won't tell me where she's moved the refugees, as I am the reason they have probably been moved. And I don't blame you, either. I can never forgive myself for what I have done to my countrymen. I will spend the rest of my life trying to reverse the pain and suffering I've caused and to atone for the shame I've brought to a family name that once symbolized hope to all New Pacifica.

I give you this information so you can take it to Noemi, who will confirm that I'm telling the truth. I do not yet know how to heal those regs who have been damaged by Reduction, but I believe I know how to prevent anyone else from being hurt. The answer lies in the Helo Cure.

A few days ago, I offered the cure to one of the visitors, though he is a natural reg. He feared he might have made his offspring vulnerable due to his primitive gengineering. In the old days, it was thought that the cure had no effect on those who were not Reduced, but now I think it's something more. The cure won't heal a Reduced brain, which is why it doesn't fix the Reduced who take it. But it will prevent the damage of Reduction from ever taking place. In natural Reduction, this damage occurs in utero, in the developing brain of the fetus. The Helo Cure prevents that from happening. It will also, according to my models, prevent it from happening when one is given the Reduction drug.

Persis gasped. Could it be that simple?

"Are you all right?" Justen asked.

She nodded, swallowing. Justen's message continued.

Take this information and guard your friends and allies, here and in Galatea. It might take a while to produce enough of the Helo Cure to protect the entire nation, but if they all take it, they will be able to defend themselves, aristo and reg alike, from the revolutionaries' terrible weapon.

With your help, I can begin to atone for the harm I've caused my countrymen and keep anyone else from being hurt like this again. Once, Persistence Helo was the hope of all New Pacifica. I'd hoped to follow in her footsteps, but I recognize now that you are the one who will save us.

You are the hope of every true patriot of my homeland.

Persis tightened her hands on Justen's shoulders and buried her face against his chest.

"You're not all right," he said. "Too near the fire?"

"Justen," she breathed. There was no question he was telling the truth. There was no possible purpose his lie would serve. Noemi could easily verify or dismiss his claims. She fluttered the medic at once, to be sure, but not a doubt remained in Persis's mind. Everything fita"it fit what she knew of what was happening in Galatea; it fit with Vania's befriending Andromeda and Tomorrow; it fit with the way Justen had been tied to his grandmother's oblets and his nanorector models for the last day and a half; and it fit, most of all, with what she knew about Justena"what she'd known all along, if she'd been completely honest with herself.

And maybe it was time to be honest with him, too. She took a deep, shuddering breath. I'm the Wild Poppy. I'm the Wild Poppy. I'm the Wild Poppy. "I'ma""