Kingdom of Cages(161)

Basante glanced toward the door. Chena flicked her little fingernail against the lip of the carafe and poured her water.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Basante reached for the carafe and poured a glass for himself. “I wouldn’t have spoken as I have if I was not sure.”

“Of course.” Chena studied her drink. “You did have a lot to say here, didn’t you?”

“I might ask”—Basante lowered his glass—“what you think of it.”

Chena cupped the glass between her hands, swirling the water slightly. “Why do you people care so much about Pandora? It’s just one planet. There are millions.”

Basante looked startled. He took another swallow of water. “There are no other planets like this.” He smiled fondly, as if he were speaking of a friend. “This is the closest thing to Old Earth that has ever been found. Earth, the mother of us all, was destroyed over two thousand years ago by humans. We will never understand the place that gave us birth, the place where we were supposed to be in the universe. By understanding Pandora, thoroughly and completely, maybe, just maybe, we can understand our own nature, and the web of life.” His eyes shone. “No one has ever understood all the interactions that can make up sentient beings. But we might be able to. If the world remains undamaged. If our work goes on, we might still one day be able to go back and revive Old Earth.” He drank again. “That is why we are doing this, Chena. The Authority has threatened to destroy Pandora, to destroy all the work and understanding we have achieved. We are being held hostage. We must do as they say. I know your family has suffered because of this, and I am sorry. If you work with us, we will offer you what recompense we can.” He shook his head. “I know it is cold comfort, with what you have lost. I love my family. I cannot imagine…” He must have seen the stony look on her face, because he cut off his sentence and took another drink of water. “We will do for you what we can, Chena. I swear.”

“Maybe you need me because you don’t have your cure,” she said. “Someone stole it out of my mother. Maybe you’re just lying to me so I’ll be a nice, docile little volunteer for you.”

Basante shook his head again. The hand holding the glass trembled just a little. “If we wanted to use you, Chena, we would have just taken you out of Offshoot.”

“How can I be sure?” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his face. He’d gone a little pale. He would start sweating any second now. “How can I believe anything you say?”

Basante started to sigh, but it turned into a cough. His face crumpled in confusion and he pressed the heel of his hand briefly against his stomach.

You’ve never been sick, have you? thought Chena. You don’t know what it feels like when your body turns against you. You’ve got no idea what’s going on right now.

Beads of sweat stood out on Basante’s forehead. He stood. “I’m sorry…” he began, but his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

Her mouth went completely and instantly dry. She rounded the table. Basante curled up beside his chair like a baby, clutching his stomach.

“Wha… what…” he stammered through clenched teeth.

Chena dropped to her knees beside him. She could smell his sour sweat and all the different scents of fear.

“Listen to me carefully,” she croaked. “You’ve got an alkaloid poison in your system. It’s killing you. I can save you.”

“Aleph…” He closed his eyes against another spasm of pain.

“Aleph can’t hear you. You said that, remember? I can save you. I will save you.”

His eyes rolled open again, wide and terrified. “Help me,” he murmured.

“Who killed my mother?”

His whole body shivered and twitched. “What?”

“Who killed my mother?” repeated Chena. “You know how to shut off Aleph. So did whoever killed Mom. Tell me who it was, and what they did with the thing inside her, and you’ll live. I’ll run out the door. I’ll tell someone what’s happening. I’ll tell them what I used.” She leaned closer, right into his ear. “All you have to do is tell.”

For a second, the poison released him and he lay there gasping for air. “You fool,” he panted. “You poor fool. You could have saved us all. You could have been queen of the world.” He lifted his head, but another spasm wracked him and whatever he had wanted to say became a wordless grunt of pain.

“Who killed my mother?” demanded Chena. “Did you do it? Huh?” She pushed at his shoulder. If felt hard as a rock. “Was it you who cut her open to get at that thing inside her?”