The Cage(37)
“Just because humankind is a lesser species does not mean it has no intrinsic value. In fact, as stewards of the lesser species, we value you all the more because of your natural innocence. Your kind has not yet been corrupted by superior intellect. Your life here will be effortless. We will provide everything. All you must do is enjoy it.”
“In exchange for what?” She shook her head wearily. “Nobody goes to all the trouble of abducting us from Earth and building an entire habitat out of the good of their hearts. Is that why you took kids, instead of adults—you thought we’d be too innocent to question your motives? I have news for you. I’m not that naive.”
“We wish only for your safety and survival.”
“The Warden nearly killed me. Was that for my survival?”
Her words snapped in the air. The Caretaker was quiet, as though she had struck too deep—or too true. Even the girl in the cage stopped picking at her toes and paid attention. Cora took a shaky step forward.
“You might want what’s best for us—you’re a Caretaker, after all. But I refuse to believe those researchers care about my safety. When I fell at their feet, they only watched like I was some experiment. And the Warden? He would have killed me without so much as a blink.” She stopped walking when she was close enough to feel the heat from his body, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Tell me why your kind really took us, and why those researchers keep manipulating us. Is it for your own amusement? Or are we test subjects for new drugs you don’t want to test on yourselves?” She swallowed, almost losing her resolve. “Or are you studying us because you want to see how humans will react when you attack Earth?”
“Attack Earth?” For someone who suppressed his emotions in public, he sounded sincerely surprised—or else he was a good liar. “That is another endearing trait of your species. Your vivid imagination.”
“Don’t mock me,” she said.
His face grew serious once more. “We have no interest in your planet. We are not a terrestrial species, but an astral one. We have made our home among the stars for the last million rotations—thirty thousand human years. An ancient race known as the Gatherers took us from our planet of origin and elevated us to the realm of the stars, where we evolved into one of the intelligent species. Now it is our turn to elevate your species to the stars, just as the Gatherers once did for us. Perhaps in time you will also display signs of evolving toward intelligence.”
“We are intelligent.”
“Not in the way we mean. For us, the difference between the intelligent species and the lesser ones is perceptive abilities: Telepathy. Telekinesis.” He paused, as though gauging her reaction. She thought back to Lucky and the others . . . had they shown any signs of telepathy? Telekinesis? No. They’d all seemed as helpless as she was.
When she didn’t react, he looked away, as if disappointed. “Your theories are not only incorrect, but they display signs of paranoia. No one intends to invade your planet. No one intends to use you as a test subject. No one is manipulating you.”
“Yes they are! If you’ve been studying Earth for so long, then you know how we really dress. You know what we really eat. You know it’s unfair that I get more tokens whenever I solve a puzzle. You know the optical illusions mess with our heads. You’ve even matched us in random pairs using constellations—why constellations?” Her angry ramble ended short, as she raked her nails over the marks on her neck.
“Every species with a home planet has created symbols out of the placement of stars. We use these symbols because they are soothing to you. And as to the pairings, they are not random. Our society is run by a program called the stock algorithm. It creates our law and determines our positions within the hierarchy. It selected your cohort because you all carry a high level of genetic diversity in your genes, and you also exhibit traits we find of particular value. You are all exemplary.”
“Leon is the best humanity has to offer?”
“Boy Three—Leon—is a paragon of physical stamina, in addition to being from an ethnic group with rare genetic traits.”
Cora closed her eyes. The foggy cloud of insomnia settled back over her, so frustratingly heavy. They had been selected and paired together by some alien supercomputer. She and Lucky, out of all the kids in the world, had the best genetic compatibility. It wasn’t a particularly romantic notion. Did she only like that dimple in his left cheek because of a computer? Had he made her blush because the Kindred had designed it that way?