Chapter 71
Every turn, every push forward, every effort to pull Kara aside, every moment from bazaar to house is filled with others getting in my way. Finally, as we are getting out of the truck, I can't stand it any longer.
"Kara, can I talk to you? Alone?"
Miesha and Allys turn to look at me.
Jenna stops. "Can it wait, Locke? I want to show Kara the greenhouse. Now. Just in case she should want to go there." With Kayla between us she talks in code, but we all get what the just in case is. I still don't know why it's so urgent to go right now. Maybe she's heard something, but what I need is much more urgent.
"We can talk later, Locke," Kara says. "I'd like to see the greenhouse."
I widen my eyes, hoping she will get the message. Kara. She looks away.
Jenna kisses the top of Kayla's head and pats her bottom. "I'll be right in, angel. Go on and put your shirt away." Kayla runs to the house, and Dot, Allys, and Miesha follow her.
We walk down the slope, across the bridge, and over to the greenhouse. Kara's mask is back in place, but as we walk, her eyes sweep the landscape, always in motion, always soaking up details like she's wary of traps--or maybe she's constructing them. When we reach the greenhouse, Jenna tells her there's a hiding place below. She pulls on the latch beneath the hemp mat and starts down the stairs. Kara stiffens but then follows. Walking into closed, dark spaces is hard for both of us. When we reach the bottom, Jenna turns the lights on.
Kara looks out at the grim cavern of a room but says nothing. For a moment I think I see a hairline crack in her mask, but just as quickly it's gone. She forces a smile and takes two steps. Jenna follows and fills the strained silence with explanations of what the room was originally for.
Kara nods. "So ... you've been busy all these years ... saving people. Complete strangers."
"I guess you could call them that. But I understood what they..." Jenna's thoughts dwindle away as she looks at Kara. Does she see a crack too? "It was only a temporary stop until we could find a more permanent placement for them."
Kara walks around the room and swipes her finger across a dusty table, then flicks the dust from her fingertip. "That was very good of you, Jenna. So good. It's good to help strangers."
"I think we need--"
Kara turns around and laughs. "You don't really expect us to stay down in this hellhole, do you?" She freezes at her slip. Has she already discovered Jenna's weakness so now her perfect control is shaky? She shrugs to cover for herself. "You know me and dust!" But the edge still hasn't left her voice. This is not going to end well. Her control is dissolving.
I step toward her, ready to grab and hold her if I need to. "Kara, it's only a backup in case we--"
"Ah! Another backup. Just what we need."
Jenna steps toward her, unfazed. "Kara," she says firmly, "I think we need to talk. Now."
Kara throws her arms out. "About what? Who gets which cot?"
"What we should have talked about this morning. The accident. What happened afterward. What you are now."
The smile on Kara's face fades. Her eyebrows rise. She takes a step forward. "And just what am I, Jenna?"
Jenna holds her ground. "We've all changed."
Kara takes another step so she and Jenna are just an arm's length apart. "But you think you're something ... more than me?"
"No, I didn't say--"
Piece by piece, the mask falls away. Kara's voice grows soft and condescending, almost like she is talking to a small child. "But of course you're something more, Jenna." She turns and walks over to a cot that's against the wall, and sits like she is testing it for comfort. "You're Jenna Fox. There's a whole standard named after you. The Jenna Standard. I can't imagine a whole law named after me, but then I'm not the entitled Jenna Fox. If there was one for me, I suppose they would call it the Kara Manning Freak Law."
I step forward to go to her, but Jenna puts her hand out to stop me. "No. Let her talk," she says.
Kara looks at me. Her eyes narrow. "We don't have to talk about what came after the accident, do we, Locke? We have every dark moment memorized. We were there for each other. Always there. That's what real friends do. I was there for you." Betrayal fills her eyes, my betrayal, and I see all the ways I fell short for her, all the ways I didn't love her the way she wanted.
Now I'm the one who's cracking. I feel like a house has landed on my chest. I know she expects me to hate Jenna the way she does, but I can't. I never have. Jenna was my survival too. "Yes, Kara, you were always there."
Her eyes flash back to Jenna. They're as cold and icy as I've ever seen them. Her smile returns. "Did he tell you what it was like? Being forgotten in a black silent box for all those years?"
Jenna is rigid. I watch her temple pulse and the breath rise in her chest.
I shake my head and walk over to Kara. "We don't have to--"
She jumps up from the cot before I reach her. "Tell her!" When I take hold of her arm, she shakes me away.
"I know what it's like," Jenna says.
Kara walks around Jenna, nodding her head. She circles back to face her. "You're almost amusing, Jenna. But I guess with your outdated Bio Gel, it's to be expected. Locke and I are BioPerfect. Perfect. That means everything about us is more perfect than you, more human than you."
Is this the venting and throwing things that Jenna said would come? Is that why Jenna is tolerating it? I know Jenna wants me to let Kara talk, but I don't know how much more I can stand. I'm watching the three of us die right before my eyes, like who we were to one another never existed.
Jenna doesn't blink. She is staring into Kara's eyes like she's looking for something hiding behind them. "I'm sorry for what you've been through, Kara. I am truly sorry."
Kara stands there, her face calm and blank, not even breathing, just staring back at Jenna. She leans closer. "You will be," she whispers.
Jenna's eyes ice over, as cold as Kara's, and that's what does it. I don't plan it. I don't even realize what I've done until I see the chair flying across the room and crashing into the wall.
"Stop!" My voice echoes off the concrete walls.
They both look at the cracked wall and shattered chair, then turn to look at me. I stare back, not trying to hide whatever they're seeing in my face. I don't care. I just want the nightmare to end. Kara tilts her head slightly like she is processing my reaction, and I watch the slow arching of one eyebrow, the shimmy of her hair at her shoulders as she nods, and then she lunges at Jenna, holding her tightly, her lips pressed to Jenna's ear. Her shoulders shake, and I hear hoarse sobs.
She pulls away and shakes her head. "Jenna." She chokes down another sob. "I'm so confused. It's been so hard." She pulls close to Jenna again and sobs. "Forgive me. Please. I need to rest. That's all. I've said horrible things. Please, forgive me."
Jenna returns her hug and pats her back, but I see the cool, dry distance in her eyes. "Go rest. You're right. You need to rest."
Kara steps back. "You forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive."
Kara nods. Her tears are real. Her worry seems real. But the mask is back. Her face is a thousand blank planes, each one like the next.
Kara.
She glances at me, but that's all I get. No words. Nothing else.
"I'll walk you back to the house," Jenna says.
"No." Kara wipes at her eyes. "I know the way. I'm just going to go lie down for a while. I know I'll feel better after some rest."
Jenna nods. "Of course."
I step toward Kara. "I can walk you--"
"No, Locke. I just need some time. Really." She walks up the stairs, her feet heavy and shuffling.
Jenna watches the stairs even after Kara is gone.
"Are we--"
Jenna lifts her finger to her mouth. "Shh." There's a tiny sound, like a string of beeps, and then it fades away. "She's gone." She sees my confusion and adds, "We have sensors outside the greenhouse." She doesn't explain further but quickly moves to the back wall and places her hand against it. A door seamlessly appears, and Jenna races through it into another room, calling for me to follow. Once I walk through the door, it disappears behind me. It's just like the door I saw at the train station when I arrived. Jenna hurries to a Net Center that is spotless and fully operational. She presses her hand to the table, and a screen appears.
"Allys," she says. Nothing happens. "Hurry." She leans forward, impatient, but it is only about twenty seconds before Allys appears.
"What's up?" Allys asks.
"It's Kara. She's on her way back to the house. To rest. Keep an eye on her."
"That's all?"
"Yes, just keep an eye on her."
Allys nods and then looks at me standing behind Jenna. "Close your mouth, city boy, before a BeeBot flies in." She winks and signs off.
I look around the room that is five times the size of the one we just came from. It is clean and well stocked, and there are three small rooms with real beds on the perimeter, a kitchen, a curtained area that looks like it's for medical care, and a fully furnished living area complete with couches. The Net Center wraps around in a half circle with four stations.
"You're full of surprises, Jenna." I walk over and peek inside one of the rooms. "So ... the other room's only a decoy, just in case you're found out. It makes you look like a shoestring operation that's out of business, when"--I turn around to look at her--"you're obviously still very active in the Network."
"Yes and no. Yes, it's a decoy. The other room's been dusty and broken down from the day it was built. There's a good chunk of the Fox fortune invested in this room. We keep it functional just in case. It would be stupid to totally abandon it, but we haven't used it for years. And no, it was the truth when I told you I quit."
"Except for emergencies like this. To alert Allys."
"I need to talk to you, Locke. Let's sit down."
She pulls me over to the living area and sits, waiting for me to do the same, but I can't. We stare at each other, each of us trying to read the other's thoughts. I feel like everything we ever were is slipping away. I cave first, hoping I can make sense of what just happened. "Is this what you were talking about? That she'd vent and throw things? At least she didn't throw anything."
"And yet..." She leans back and crosses her arms. "I have a broken chair and smashed wall only a few feet away."
I sit down on the couch opposite her. "I'm sorry. It was just so hard watching you two. It was like I was losing you both all over again."
"And you think it isn't hard for me?" She flops back against the couch. "Locke, she was my best friend! But that didn't seem like Kara venting to me. I felt like I was staring at someone I didn't even know."
"What about at the bazaar? I saw you smiling with her."
She stands, hugs her arms to her chest like she's cold and paces the length of the rug between us. "Sometimes, the way she talks, I can almost believe..."
I watch her mind race, trying to justify everything, trying to believe the logic I practically yelled at her this morning: It's only eyes, Jenna. They aren't even hers. Gatsbro made them for her.... How can you judge someone by something made in a lab?
She shakes her head. "But there's still something wrong. None of us are who we once were. The accident was a turning point. It changed all of us, but..."
She is still talking. I see her lips moving, but I only hear the word accident.
It changed all of us. None of us are who we once were. It always comes back to that. I'm sorry. But those words are so pathetically inadequate, I can't say them out loud. What have you done, Locke? I told Kara I was sorry over and over again when her words came at me in the darkness. And when she shifted blame to Jenna, I didn't argue. I was relieved. I knew it was the coward's way out, but it didn't seem to matter then. Now it does. I can't keep ignoring the truth.
"I'm sorry, Jenna," I blurt out, cutting off whatever words were on her lips.
She stops pacing. "What?"
"None of us would be here now if it weren't for me."
"What are you talking about? Of course you had to come here. It was the right--"
"No. The accident. That's what got us to this point. That's what started it all. It was my fault. I'm sorry. If I could die three times over for you and Kara, I would. I'd do anything to take it all back. I'd spend the rest of eternity in that hellhole if it could have spared you." I sit there, my mouth still open, my breath trapped in my chest.
Her brows pinch, and her arms drop to her sides. "You? You've thought it was your fault all these years?"
"It was my idea, Jenna."
"Locke, we all made the same choice. Kara and I wanted to go just as much as you."
"That's not how I remember it. You didn't want--"
"Locke, listen to me! Guilt does terrible things to our memories. It was my car. I could have said no. I knew Kara hadn't been driving for long. I have more than my share of guilt. And think of Kara. Look what she's had to live with all these years. She was driving. She was the oldest. What has guilt done to her?"
"She never admitted any guilt to me."
"That doesn't mean it's not there."
But what if it's something else besides guilt? The words don't have to be spoken. I see enough in Jenna's face to know she's wondering the same thing. What if Kara didn't come through this okay? What if, during all those years trapped in a black box, little pieces of her dissolved away? Were those environments really meant to hold anyone for that long?
I think about my dark thoughts--just as dark as anything I saw in Kara's face. What if I'm missing something too, only no one has noticed yet? Maybe the ten percent really does make a difference. My joints ache, and I suddenly feel weak, like every biochip in me is surrendering at the thought. "How far is too far, Jenna? Where's the line between miracle and monster?"
Jenna sits down across from me, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. She shakes her head. "I don't know, Locke. You'd think after all these years everything would be black and white for me, but it's not. The world keeps changing, and so do my thoughts about it." She sets the pillow aside and leans forward. "All I know is that no one wants to die. As long as people can think up new ways to preserve life, they will."
"With varying degrees of success."
She nods. "Yes, but then, even people who are whole wear their humanity with varying degrees of success, don't they?"
I stare at my feet and think of Gatsbro. He flunked Humanity 101. I'd take Dot over him any day. I look back at Jenna. She may not have answers, but at least I know I'm not alone in that department.
"So what about Kara?" I ask. "Where do we go from here?"
"Kara," she says. Her eyes scan an unfocused space between us. I feel like I'm watching her version of a lapse, like she's walking through all the years she and Kara shared, maybe even through years and people who have been in her life that I will never know. She leans back into the couch, looking small and fragile, and yet there is so much more to her than the timid girl I once knew. She's someone who has built hidden underground rooms, changed laws, and saved strangers. She finally focuses on me again. After a long pause, she says, "For now, we'll assume she vented. And you threw things."
There's still worry in her face, but loyalty won. We had only a year and a half together, but that year and a half was the beginning of who we are now.
"I'll keep a close eye on her," I say. "I promise. Maybe she just needs more time."
"That might be something we don't have a lot of."
"You heard something?"
"That's why I wanted to come straight here after the bazaar. So Kara would know where to go too. The Network spotted Gatsbro in LA this morning."
I lean forward and dig my fingers through my hair. "So he's not in Mexico." I know I should be worried, and maybe part of me is, but I almost want to see him again. I want to crack his skull the way I should have in the first place. I want to pay him back for everything, for pretending he cared about us when all we were to him was product, pay him back for cracked ribs and for hitting Kara, pay him back for calling me son. I am no son of his.
"I don't know if he's on his way here or searching the streets of LA, or even on his way back to Manchester. But he's definitely not in Mexico. I have some people keeping an eye out at the San Diego station. If they see him, they'll contact me right away. That will give us time to hide you down here."
I'm not hiding from him anymore. I'm not hiding from him ever again. I may not have lived three lifetimes like Jenna, but I feel like I've lived a whole lifetime this past year, and another one this past week. My reality has flipped so many times I can't keep count. From here on out, I'll make my own reality, but I don't tell her that. I've already given her enough to worry about. Instead, I turn to her and grin. "You don't really expect Kara to stay down in this hellhole, do you?"
For just a moment, the apprehension on her face disappears and is replaced with a smile. It's a small thing, but it feels like I've given a gift to her. I look into her eyes. Her father made them exactly like I remember them--nothing added, nothing taken away--still the beautiful glistening blue pools they always were. No wonder he made the Bio Gel blue. I'll never think of my BioPerfect as the color of an exotic frog again, but the color of Jenna's eyes, and that makes all the difference. I feel stronger, like blue is a completely natural color for the inside of a human to be.