Wings

“Excuse me, General. I think my sutures are coming undone,” she says.



Natalie’s dad excuses her and she leaves.



I turn my attention back to the map. “What do you want me to do?”



“Nothing,” General Buchanan says. “You and Natalie are going to stay here.”



Natalie’s mouth drops open. “You can’t be serious.”



“I’m deadly serious,” he says. “There’s no reason for you to come. We have it under control. We’ll come back for you once the Commander is in power and the dust settles.”



Anger boils up in me. I shoot a look at Roach, who frowns back at me, clearly as unhappy about this as I am.



“So let me get this straight. The Sentry rebels are going to take down Purian Rose and put this Commander guy in power instead?” I say. “And where does that leave the Darklings when the dust settles? What plans do you have for us in your new regime?”



“They’ll be taken good care of, Ash, you have my word,” General Buchanan says.



“Will we have a voice in the new Sentry government?” I say.



Natalie’s mom, Emissary Buchanan, is the one to answer. “Sigur has been invited to join the council.”



“And what about the Bastets and Lupines?” Acelot asks.



This piques Garrick’s and Sasha’s interest. I’m sure the Lupines are keen to know where they stand in the new Sentry regime.



“We expect a place on the council,” Garrick says. “We’ve risked a lot to support you, Emissary.”



Roach snorts. “The Lupines are collaborators. Why should they be rewarded?”



“We don’t all blindly follow Rose,” Sasha snaps. “Many of us believe what he’s doing is wrong. We’ve put our lives on the line to help the rebellion. We deserve a voice too.”



“Everyone will be represented,” Emissary Buchanan interjects.



“But the Sentry will remain in charge?” I say. “You’ll still be the ones calling the shots?”



She narrows her cool blue eyes at me. “Yes.”



“This is bullshit,” I mutter, storming out of the room. Natalie chases after me.



“Ash—”



I spin around on her. “What was the fragging point of any of this? I’ve spent months campaigning against Purian Rose, fighting him, trying to unify the species, and tomorrow the Sentry rebels are just going to swoop in and . . .” I grind my fangs together.



“What? Steal your thunder?” Natalie says.



I glare at her. “No. God, you know I don’t give a crap about that. I never asked to be Phoenix; I’m not interested in being some hero.”



“I know you’re not. Sorry,” she says. “Then what’s bothering you? This is what we wanted—to bring Rose down. I’m not going to lie, it’s frustrating we’re not the ones who get to do it, but really, does it matter in the grand scheme of things?”



“Yes, it does!” I say. “I didn’t want to replace one Sentry government with another. How can we be certain things will get better after tomorrow’s attack? We don’t even know who this fragging ‘Commander’ person is. He could be worse than Purian Rose!”



Natalie’s mouth tightens slightly. “I trust my father. I sort of trust my mother. They won’t let things continue on as they are.”



“But will it be enough? Will it be what we’ve been fighting for?” I take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her palm. Her blue diamond engagement ring sparkles in the fluorescent light. “I don’t want it to be illegal for us to be together. I want to be able to marry you one day,” I say quietly. “I want our kids to be able to get into the Fast Track programs, to have jobs, to be accepted. I want them to have all the opportunities I never did. But in my heart, I don’t believe that will ever happen if the Sentry remains in control.”



“But Sigur will have a say in what happens,” Natalie replies.



“Sigur is just a token, don’t you see that?” I say, getting frustrated. “You heard your mom; the Sentry will be calling the shots. He’s been brought in as a spokesman for the Darklings, so when he tells them to support the new Sentry regime, they will. But it won’t be any different from before. How can it? Until the Sentry are gone, nothing will ever change. Your parents are bullshitting you, Natalie.”



She snatches her hand away, her cheeks flushing. “That’s not true. I think you’re letting your feelings about the Sentry color your opinion of my parents.”



“No, I think the fact that your dad worked in the Barren Lands camp and that your mom tried to frame me for Chris Thompson’s death ‘colored my opinion’ of them,” I retort. “Oh, and not to mention the fact that they tried to split us up. So forgive me for being the tiniest bit suspicious about their motives.”



Natalie blinks and tears darken her lashes.



I rake a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. That was out of order,” I mutter.



Natalie bites her lip, shaking her head. “No . . . no, you’re totally right. I’m the one who’s being blind. It’s been so wonderful having my parents back, I’ve not been pushing these questions hard enough with them, and I should have been. I’m sorry, Ash.”



I kiss her tears away and hold her against me for a long moment.



“Holidays with the in-laws are going to be interesting when we get married,” I murmur, and Natalie laughs.



We head into the hospital in search of Dr. Craven. Martha is propped up in bed. Her graying hair is loose around her bony shoulders and her wrinkled skin is ghostly white, but there’s a youthful sparkle in her lilac eyes. She gives me a gap-toothed grin. I try not to wince at the sight of her missing fangs. All domesticated Darklings have their fangs removed for safety reasons. She shakily attempts to drink a glass of Synth-O-Blood, splashing it over her nightgown. Natalie rushes over to her and perches on the edge of Martha’s bed, then holds the glass up to the woman’s withered lips.



“Thank you, dear,” Martha says.



Natalie gives her a loving smile.



“Where are Lucinda and Yolanda?” I ask, looking about the near-empty ward. I’m confused to see that Destiny isn’t here; I thought she was coming to get her stitches redone. Huh. She must have already been and gone.



“Yolanda’s with Dr. Craven, and Lucinda went to the Mess Hall with your friends, Day and Beetle, and that nice Bastet boy,” Martha says in her quivering voice, taking another sip of blood before passing it to Natalie.



Natalie places the glass down on the nightstand. “Try to get some rest. I’ll come read to you later, okay?” She kisses the Darkling woman on the cheek, and then we go in search of Dr. Craven in his laboratory at the back of the hospital.



The laboratory is a large room with white walls and furniture, and gleaming silver medical equipment. The doctor is peering through an electron microscope. He’s tall with brassy-blond hair that curls around his ears, and spectacles perched on the end of his long nose. He looks a lot like his son, Sebastian, with the same green eyes and narrow face. Sitting at the com-desk beside him is the Bastet woman Yolanda. She’s got on a white lab coat over a green jumpsuit, and her brownish-red hair is swept back into a functional bun, highlighting her beautiful face.



Dr. Craven looks up from the microscope and smiles at Natalie. “Hello, pumpkin.”



“Hey, Doc. Have you had a chance to run those tests on Wings yet?” Natalie asks.



“I have. Like you suspected, the base component of the drug is Haze and we found traces of Night Whisper.” He gives me a proud look, the kind a teacher gives his student. Once upon a time I was going to be his lab assistant, before I met Ash and my life changed forever. “However, we found something else mixed with it.” He punches in a command on the com-desk, and a holographic projection of a double helix immediately appears above the screen. “It’s a retrovirus, designed to alter DNA.”



Natalie shoots a worried look at me.



“Why in hell is Purian Rose trying to change his men’s DNA?” I say. “What’s he turning them into?”



Dr. Craven takes off his glasses. “From what we can tell? Lupines.”



“What?” I splutter.



“Well, to be more accurate, hybrids,” Yolanda corrects. “Half human, half Lupine.”



“Like Theora,” Natalie whispers. “And Edmund’s grandfather.”



My stomach twists. “He’s trying to make everyone like them. One race—”



“One faith,” Natalie continues.



“One nation, under His Mighty. Fragg . . . ,” I mutter.



We’re all silent for a moment, letting this revelation sink in. This has been Purian Rose’s plan all along: to create a new world in his Blood Mate’s image, where everyone follows the same religion. This is why he’s been rounding up the Impurities and sending them to the Tenth, because only those who are “pure” in his eyes deserve to be transformed into this new race, made entirely of human-Lupine hybrids.



“Why is he only giving the drug to the Tin Men, though? You know, those guys walking around in those gray uniforms with the butterfly pins?” Natalie says. “If he truly believes in ‘one race,’ then why are they the only ones being given the retrovirus?”



Dr. Craven shrugs. “He has to start somewhere, and I suppose a small group of test subjects wouldn’t rouse too much suspicion.”



“He’s rewarding them,” I say darkly. “He thinks he’s giving them a gift by being the first people to be turned into his new, purer race.”



“The retrovirus doesn’t work, though,” Yolanda adds. “We’ve run numerous simulations, and the results were worrying, to say the least.” She punches another button, and the double helix disappears to be replaced with a glowing blob, which I assume is a representation of the retrovirus. “In very basic terms”—she looks at me, and I smile appreciatively; science was never my thing—“when working correctly, the retrovirus produces DNA from its RNA genome, using its reverse transcriptase enzy—”



I raise a brow. I’m already confused.



She smiles apologetically. “It converts RNA to DNA. This new DNA is then incorporated into the host’s genome and replicated, successfully altering the host’s DNA without any harm to the host.”



I nod, sort of understanding. Natalie peers at the holographic projection.



“But it isn’t working?” Natalie asks.



“Errors are occurring during the reverse transcription process, causing mutations—”



“Because there’s no proofreading ability?” Natalie says.



Yolanda nods. Now they’ve completely lost me.



“What’s the result of these mutations?” Natalie says.



“Death,” Dr. Craven replies simply. “You need to watch this.” He opens a drawer under the workbench and takes out the blue digital disc that Natalie recovered from the Tenth, and slots it into the com-desk. The hologram of the retrovirus disappears, and a video starts playing on the screen. It’s footage taken inside the hospital ward where Yolanda and Lucinda were being held captive. The patients are all chained to their beds, emaciated, terrified. I scan the faces, searching for my dad, barely able to breathe. He’s not there. I’m both disappointed and relieved. Natalie’s hand grips around mine when a woman appears on the screen—it’s the scientist Natalie shot. She walks down the aisle, injecting the human patients with Wings, including a young girl no more than twelve years old with brown hair and hazel eyes.



“When I first got taken to the Tenth, three weeks ago, the Sentry scientists used to come into my ward every day and inject something into the human patients,” Yolanda says. “They claimed it was a vaccine against Myra fever.”



“Myra fever?” I ask.



Dr. Craven is the one who answers. “It’s a particularly nasty virus that spreads in places like prisons and hospitals. It was common for Sentry guards to fall sick with it at the Barren Lands camp during the last war. It would make sense to vaccinate the human patients against Myra so that the Sentry staff didn’t contract it.”



The video footage cuts to a long shot of the ward. The date stamp indicates that a few weeks have passed. The Sentry doctor walks down the aisle again, checking the human patients. Most seem fine, except they now all have eerie, shimmering gray eyes. The camera stops on the young brown-haired girl. Her skin is sallow and rotting. She coughs, spewing up blood. Natalie winces. Dr. Craven turns the video off.



“I thought it was a little odd that only the humans were getting vaccinated, since Bastets carry the Myra virus too, but I wasn’t going to complain,” Yolanda continues. “A week after they were injected, about a fifth of the human prisoners started experiencing flulike symptoms—sweating, vomiting, fever, that sort of thing—then over time their organs failed and they died. I thought it must be the Myra fever, even though that’s rarely fatal. I realize now they’d been infected with Wings.”



So that’s how my dad died? “It isn’t killing everyone, though?”



Yolanda shakes her head. “Not based on what I saw at the Tenth. Whatever these mutations are, it’s killing only certain humans, but we don’t know what it is about their genetic makeup that puts them at risk and not others.”



Natalie digs around in her pocket and pulls out the document she found in the Barren Lands. “Maybe this can help.”



“Project Chrysalis?” Yolanda says, scanning the document. A grin breaks out on her lips as she passes the document to Dr. Craven. “It’s the results from the first clinical trials of Wings.”