Partials series 1-3. Dan Wells

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Partials series 1-3 - Dan  Wells

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not just Manhattan,” said Kira, “it’s everywhere—we saw a panther in Brooklyn. We saw a baby antelope—a little antelope fawn, probably two months old at the most. Someday they’ll wonder where all those weird, two-legged animals went, and then they’ll take a drink from a river, and look up at the clouds, and then they’ll forget they were ever even thinking about us at all. Life will go on. There’s no point even leaving a record behind, because there will never be anyone, ever again, who can read it.”

      “Somebody’s depressed,” said Jayden.

      Xochi punched him in the arm. “Does anyone want some more home fries?”

      “Ooh, me,” said Isolde, sitting up. “Forget extinction—I’m dying the day all our vegetable oil finally runs out.”

      Xochi passed her the plate and stood up. “I’m sick of ‘Antonio, on His Bar Mitzvah.’ Any requests?”

      “Phineas,” said Kira. “No—Nissyen. He always cheers me up.”

      Xochi sorted through her basket of players, glancing quickly at the generator to make sure there was power. Isolde took a bite of potato and pointed at Kira with the other half, talking with her mouth full.

      “I think you’re just spooked,” she said. “All joking aside, that thing almost killed you in the field, and now you have to work with it.”

      “Not with it.”

      “With it in the room,” said Isolde. “You know what I mean. I think it’s scary.”

      “I think you’re scary,” said Xochi. She plugged in a music player—TO NISSYEN FROM LISA—and bubbly techno started playing in the background. “You’re the most elegant one of us,” Xochi continued, sitting next to Isolde, “and here you are flinging fried potatoes around like you’re an outlands street vendor.”

      “I may be a little drunk,” said Isolde seriously, pointing at Xochi with her half-chewed fry. She raised her eyebrow. “Senator Hobb gave me some champagne.”

      “Ooh la la,” said Xochi.

      “Maybe beacuse the hearing went better than expected?” said Isolde. She shrugged. “I wasn’t going to say no.”

      “But they didn’t get anything they wanted,” said Kira, sitting up straighter. “Four dumb kids forced them into . . .” She stopped. “Unless that’s what they wanted all along.”

      “They wanted it alive?” asked Jayden. “They wanted you to study it?”

      “I don’t know,” said Kira. “None of it makes sense.” She looked out the window. Still nothing.

      “Doesn’t it make you a little suspicious, though?” asked Xochi. “If the Senate is running some kind of weird scheme here, how many other things are they doing that we don’t know about?”

      “You’re being paranoid,” said Jayden. “What kind of horrible conspiracies do you think they’ve got going?”

      “They’re hiding a Partial inside the city limits,” said Xochi. “If they’re capable of that, why not more?”

      The room went quiet.

      “Attacks against the farms,” said Xochi. “Accused Voices disappearing in the middle of the night. We accept these things because we think we know the reasons behind them, but what if we don’t? What if the reasons we’ve been told all along are just lies?”

      “I’ve been Senator Hobb’s assistant for nearly a year,” said Isolde, “and I can guarantee you I’m not keeping any dangerous state secrets.”

      “You’re defending the honesty of a group that you know, firsthand, is lying to the people of East Meadow,” said Xochi. “And they’re doing it too effectively to be first-timers. The only surprising thing about it is that any of you are surprised.”

      “I think Xochi’s right,” said Kira. She felt a pit in her stomach, slowly growing deeper and darker as she thought through Xochi’s logic.

      “Why are you so desperate to attack them?” asked Jayden. “Listen, Xochi, I’m sorry your mom is a bitch, but she’s not the entire Senate. And what about the Defense Grid? You’re talking about people who defend us and keep us safe—people who die in the outlands so that you can sit here with your monogrammed music players and your fancy foods and whine about how oppressed you are.”

      “Not counting your own fiasco,” said Xochi hotly, “when’s the last time a soldier actually died in combat?”

      “Last year, in the Voice raid on the Hampton farms.”

      “And how do you know that was the Voice?” Xochi demanded.

      “Why would they lie to us?”

      “How do you know there wasn’t just some disgruntled farmer,” Xochi pressed, “who refused to send in his quota, so the Long Island Bloody Defense Grid went out to rough him up a little?”

      “Why would they lie to us?” Jayden repeated.

      “Because it keeps us in line!” Xochi shouted back. “Look at everything we go through—armed soldiers in the streets, invasive searches of everyone going in and out of the market; they’ve even started searching homes. The Senate says jump and we ask how high because they’ve convinced us the Voice will kill us if we don’t. Our boys go to war, our girls get pregnant, and we always do everything they say and it never changes anything. Nothing ever gets better. You know why? Because if it gets better, we don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

      Kira flicked her eyes from person to person, shocked by the outburst. Everyone else seemed as shocked as she was.

      Jayden grumbled and stood up. “You’re insane,” he said, walking to the door. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it here.”

      “Idiot,” Xochi muttered, and stormed into the kitchen.

      Kira looked at Isolde, who looked back with wide, startled eyes.

      “They’re not evil,” said Isolde. “I work with them every day—they’re just people. Hobb’s really trying to do his best.” She paused. “You should take your own gun tomorrow. We have no idea how strong the Partials are, or what they’re capable of. Do you have a handgun?”

      Kira shook her head. “I’m a rifle girl, but that’s mostly just at home. It wouldn’t be very useful inside the lab.”

      “I’ll give you mine,” said Isolde. “Town hall is swarming with soldiers, and you just became zookeeper to a hyperintelligent predator. You need it more than I do.”

      Kira looked out the window at the empty street. “I guess we may as well go get it,” she said softly. “The party’s dead anyway.” She walked out with Isolde, paused on the porch, and waited a few long seconds before stepping down and leaving.

      Marcus never came.

      Dr. Skousen led Kira down a long hall. “This used to be a quarantine room,” he said, pointing toward the heavy steel door at the

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