Their Fractured Light (Starbound #3)(84)
“And with Lilac…she’s real. Like she’s actually become this creature.” Flynn’s nodding. “Bringing down the Daedalus, tossing Tarver like a rag doll…That’s not normal.”
“Is any of this normal?” Gideon’s voice is dry.
“Point.”
My mind feels sluggish, turning over thoughts at half speed. There’s something I know, something I remember, that’s vital…but I can’t find it. I clear my throat. “Why Lilac?”
Tarver’s head lifts. “What?”
I glance at him, but he seems to have forgiven me for accusing him of wanting to kill Lilac. I chew at my lip, trying to sort out my thoughts. “Why her? I mean, it’s LaRoux the whisper hates, isn’t it? Why not take him over? He’s the one with the power, the influence, the ability to make the senators and their staffs go back and build rifts all across the galaxy—and it needs those, if it’s going to punish the whole of humanity, not just us. Why take Lilac, behind the scenes?”
“To…watch him, to hurt him from the outside?” Gideon’s thoughtful too, eyes flicking up from his study of LaRoux’s device to meet my gaze briefly. “To take away the thing he cares about the most?”
“Except she’s pretending to be the real Lilac, at least enough that he’s managed to make himself believe it.” I rub at my temple with my fingertips. I’m not even sure anymore what day it is—was it really less than twenty-four hours ago that I was dancing with Gideon in the ballroom of the Daedalus? “There has to be some reason why Lilac is special, why it didn’t take over LaRoux, or one of the scientists working with it, once it could get free. Some reason why the whisper’s chosen her, needs her.”
No one has an answer for that, exhausted silence punctuated only by the faint crinkle of wrappers here and there, as we try to choke food down throats dry with fear and weariness.
“We lost my canteen.” Tarver’s the one who breaks the silence, hoarse. All heads swivel toward him, but he doesn’t look up. “On Elysium, where Lilac and I were stranded. That’s what the scientists who died there called the planet, did you know? It was an ancient name for a place in the afterlife, where heroes went. After what happened to the researchers there, they thought it was appropriate. Anyway, we lost my canteen in a rock fall. We needed it badly, to filter water, to carry water. The next day, we found a perfect replica, right in the middle of our path.”
“You never mentioned that in your debriefing interview,” Gideon says. When Tarver’s gaze snaps toward him, he flinches, realizing that he’s not meant to have seen that footage.
But Tarver just shakes his head, bowing it once more. “They created a new one out of nothing, the whispers. And then—” His voice breaks, and I see his knuckles whiten as he grips handfuls of his hair, mastering himself. “Lilac was killed.”
Stunned silence sweeps across us, every gaze locked on him now.
Jubilee speaks in a whisper. “If Lilac was killed, then who…what…”
“Days after I buried her,” he says, toneless, “they brought her back to me. I don’t know how—I don’t want to know how. But it was her, it was my Lilac. Her thoughts, her voice, her memories. Her heart.”
“That’s impossible.” Jubilee’s face is drawn, confused. She only ever knew Lilac after the Icarus crash, and I know what she’s thinking—I can’t help but think it myself. Did any of us ever know the real Lilac? Except…my gaze creeps back toward Gideon. He knew her as a child, growing up. And he never seemed to notice there was anything different about her.
Tarver glances at Jubilee, his own gaze troubled. “She’s had a connection to them ever since. She can sense them. After the rift on Avon was destroyed, she could feel this last whisper, alone in this last rift, reaching out to her in her mind. And though the whispers we met on Elysium were peaceful, we learned after Avon that her father had made the others twisted, angry. Dangerous.”
Jubilee’s still staring at Tarver, something like accusation in her gaze. “You told us the whisper was affecting her, that we needed to destroy the rift that we thought we’d find on the Daedalus. Why not tell us the whole truth?”
“Because no one can know,” Tarver blurts, frustration in the snap of his voice. “She’d become part of the experiment, something to be studied. She’d be kept safe somewhere in a facility, away from me, away from anything resembling a real life.” He closes his eyes. “I guess that’s all over now.”
“So…” My mind’s spinning, trying to make sense of all this. “If Lilac isn’t human, not really—”
“She is.” Tarver’s quick to interrupt. “She’s real, she’s alive, she’s human. She’s Lilac. She’s just…”
“Just a little bit different,” I finish for him, trying to make my voice conciliatory. “I didn’t mean she wasn’t real. But if she’s not—if her body is something created by the whispers, created by that energy from their side of the rift…”
“Then that’s why the whisper needed her.” Gideon’s reached the same conclusion I have. “If she’s made of the same energy they are, no wonder the whisper could take her over so completely. Like slipping on a glove made to your exact measurements.”