Your One & Only(22)

Before she could say anything else, Samuel-299 stepped away from the door to let her through. He was too distracted to chastise her for talking to him so dismissively. It was just as well, given her mood, which was worsening by the second.

Turning back just before she left, she caught sight of Samuel-299 standing before the bed, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, gazing at Jack’s still form. Samuel-299’s feelings were difficult to read, a map of conflicting emotions. He was angry, that was clear, probably with the Gen-310s for playing pranks that disrupted his lab and his project. He had the usual distraction of a Samuel working through a problem, methodical and rational. But he was also concerned, exasperated, and . . . What was it? Sad, she decided. He was so deeply sad. It took her breath away once she felt it, and then it was all she could feel. It consumed him, and in that moment, he was as foreign to her as Jack. He wasn’t one of the Samuels at all; she didn’t know who he was.

She shook her head. That was ridiculous. Of course he was a Samuel. She just needed sleep, and she’d messed up her brain trying to read that book about the dog. All she wanted was to curl up in bed back at the dorms, with her sisters’ beds lined up next to hers in a neat, orderly row.

She knew however, as the door closed behind her, that the Council had been right—the Samuel was too close to the project. Regardless of what the Council decided about their experiment, it was tearing the Samuel apart.

As she headed back to the dorms in the early mist of dawn, she stopped in front of Remembrance Hall and looked up at its white steeple. She didn’t know what would happen to Jack, and after that long night in the cell, she wasn’t sure she even cared. He didn’t seem to want anything to do with her or Vispera.

The morning light shone against the stained glass of the building, casting a brilliant red into the sky. Althea’s usual composure trickled back with the warmth of the light.

Samuel-299 could take care of himself, she told herself, and what happened to Jack was none of her concern.





Chapter Six


JACK


It’d been a month since the Pairing Ceremony that brought Carson-312 and Althea-310 to Jack’s room. He’d been spending his days in apprenticeship with Sam at the clinic. Once or twice he’d been allowed to assist Sam with a clone injury—a Viktor’s broken finger, a Kate who’d burned her arm. But the clones didn’t like him treating them, even if he was just assisting Sam, so mostly he did what the Gen-310 Samuels didn’t want to bother with, like rolling bandages, cataloguing pills, or organizing closets. In the evenings, he spent hours at the cottage reading through the books and papers left behind in his mother’s office, hoping to find some clue to why she’d raised him so he’d never be accepted by the other kids his age. He loved her, and he missed her, but what had she been thinking?

Where you came from is important, Jack, she’d said, bustling into the cottage with armloads of books and art she’d snuck out of the Tunnels. Nobody here understands how important it is. The Council doesn’t know; they don’t understand that we need you. Don’t give up. This is your past, your human past. These things are for you. They belong to you.

But she was the one who hadn’t understood. The human world wasn’t his past. He’d grown up in Vispera, in the same time as the clones. Anything in him that was human only made him more alone. His mother had told him not to give up, but she’d never told him why any of it mattered.

Then, two nights ago when the Gen-310s held their next Pairing, Jack found himself spending the whole night in his room, anxious and fidgeting. He kept watching his open door, waiting to see if anyone would come in through the lab to ogle the human.

He told himself he was relieved when nobody showed. If anyone did come, it would probably be another Carson anyway.

Not well-socialized, she’d said, sounding as arrogant as the Carsons. How exactly had she expected him to be? She’d acted like he was about to attack her. She was apparently too blind to realize that Carson-312 was the dangerous one that night. He’d seen Carson’s face. She was lucky Carson hadn’t done worse than lock her in the room for a night. Jack shook himself, blocking the images from his mind of what could have happened.

If she wasn’t smart enough to be afraid of Carson rather than Jack, why should he try to be sociable with her?

He pulled off his shirt and grasped the edge of the bathroom door frame. Hoisting himself up, he felt the release of built-up energy that came when he focused too much on things he couldn’t control. After a while, he stopped counting and simply took pleasure in the strain on his muscles and sweat in his eyes, the ache that let him know he would be too exhausted to let thoughts run unbidden through his head.

Caught up in his workout, he wasn’t aware of someone else in the room until he heard soft breathing behind him. He dropped to the floor, shaking out his hands.

Maybe it was the Althea, he thought, before dismissing the idea. She hated him. Why would she come back? But he didn’t dismiss the thought quickly enough to avoid the sting of disappointment when he turned to face one of the young Nylas standing in the doorway.

She gazed down the length of him, her eyes somehow both tranquil and intent. He knew what he must look like. He was sweating and breathing hard, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and he towered over her, his muscles and broad shoulders unnatural compared to the delicate Samuels and Hassans. The hair on his arms bristled when her gaze followed a path from his chest and down his stomach. His lip curled. Just another zoo animal. He drew a shirt on and stared back at her.