Your One & Only(58)

“He’s not in any of the paintings,” Jack said.

“No.” She blinked at the faces, trying to reconcile the history she’d been taught her entire life with the image in front of her. “Was there an Original Ten? You think they made him, too?”

“It would explain why they’ve wanted a tenth clone so badly. That’s how they started out. Haven’t you ever wondered why everything is in tens except the number of models?”

“No,” she said, annoyed at the question. “That’s how it’s always been.”

“Not according to this.”

“Maybe he died.” Althea took the picture back. “Maybe they never had a chance to make more of him.” She turned the picture over. “There’s writing on the back.”

They both leaned over to read. The words were in a tight, cursive script, a list down the page. The ink had faded to a pale gray with age.



Viktor



Inga



Samuel



Kate



Carson



Althea



Hassan



Mei



Elan



Nyla





“Elan,” Jack murmured, struck by the realization. “They didn’t just want a tenth clone. They wanted me as a replacement for him.”

If Elan was indeed one of the Originals, for whatever reason, they’d stopped making that model. It would have been centuries ago. And he’d been erased from the records and histories, erased from the painting, just as he’d been erased from the memory of Vispera. Was it possible?

“Jack . . . you were supposed to be a tenth model?” Althea said, imagining what he must be thinking.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack said brusquely, hearing the pity in her voice. He took the picture from her and folded it back where it came from. “Let’s try to figure out what the Ark Project is.”

“Maybe Sam can help.”

“No, he’ll tell the Council.”

“I don’t think so. He’s fracturing. Jack, they’ll have a Binding Ceremony soon.”

Jack looked at her, his face a frustrating mask. The Inga that raised him had fractured, and now Samuel had too. And what would happen when it was her turn? Even now, she was supposed to be with her sisters, bonding with them, and instead she was here, helping Jack.

In one movement, Jack grabbed her, suddenly alert. He blew out the candle lighting the room.

“What is it?”

He shushed her, his hand covering her mouth, then peered out the window, straining to see in the dark. She was against the wall next to the window. His body was pressed into her, holding her still.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“No, I—” And then she heard it. A sound outside, twigs breaking, hushed voices giving orders.

“Come on,” Jack said, grabbing her hand. “We have to go.”





Chapter Eighteen


JACK


The cottage was surrounded. There were at least five clones. Jack cursed himself for getting distracted. He should have heard them sooner.

He led Althea down the short hallway. She clutched the box with the books inside close to her chest. They would have to go out the back. The cottage was small, but it was dark outside, and Jack knew the jungle here better than the clones did.

A back window led into an alcove. He opened a window quietly and helped Althea climb through.

“There’s a clearing on the right, but to the left the trees are dense. It’ll be dark—you’ll be hidden there. I’m right behind you.”

“Hey!” a deep voice shouted. “Who’s there?” A flashlight swept the side of the house.

“Run,” Jack said.

Althea disappeared into the dark, the flashlight beam following after her. Jack ducked away, rolling painfully to his side to dodge the beam. He couldn’t see the Viktor, but the light flicked over the space where Jack had been.

The Viktor, hearing their scrabbling, yelled again. “Stop!”

Althea changed direction when a Viktor blocked her route to the trees. Jack followed her as she headed in the direction of town. He caught up, and she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a cove of brush at the base of Vispera’s wall. He shielded her from the Viktor, squeezing her against the rough stones. She was breathing hard. The Viktor ran along the edge of the tall grass. They could hear him talking low-voiced to the others who had joined him. Jack waited several moments. He could feel Althea’s quick heartbeat against his chest. They were close, huddled together. If they moved, the Viktors would surely hear them.

Althea’s fingers settled on his uninjured arm like butterfly wings. They fluttered up and down in an anxious caress. Jack paused, realizing she was barely conscious of what she was doing. He’d seen that sort of thing enough times to know she was trying to commune with him the way she would with a clone. She looked confused as some distant part of her became aware that her touch wasn’t working. That it never would with him.

Althea stiffened. “They’re coming back,” she whispered, her lip against his ear.

Jack peered out. “Come on,” he said, giving Althea a boost over the six feet of stone. He followed, grasping the top and hauling himself up, something he’d done plenty of times as a kid.