The Ones We're Meant to Find(86)



It hadn’t always been. The first bots had deviated from their programming one in five times to choose their own freedom. Not everyone was as socially driven as Kasey had assumed. It took a certain kind of person to carry out the mission to termination, a person powered by the need to be needed, who took shelter not in a house but in a heart. Celia was that person, Kasey realized, when she ran the chip of her sister’s memories through the simulation generator. She’d accepted her terminal prognosis, in part to avoid condemning herself to a lifetime in a pod and in part to prevent Kasey from podding herself as well. To this day, Kasey disagreed with the decision. Found it extreme and rooted in Celia’s own biases. But her sister was only human, as prone to harmful beliefs as much as the next person. It’d taken Kasey a while to come to terms with that—that Celia’s fear of letting her loved ones down could be considered a flaw. She had her own insecurities, just like Kasey, and a million facets that Kasey, too blinded by the brightest ones, only saw after her sister was gone.

But better late than never. Once Kasey accepted that she and her sister were equals, she knew what she had to do. With her blessing, her lab had abandoned programming the bots with generic memories and used Celia’s directly. It was the logical choice, eliminating replication errors, and even provided Kasey a bit of illogical comfort. She trusted Celia. They might not have been “joined at the hip,” to use the language of normal people, but their bond could bridge any distance of minds or millenniums.

Yes, Kasey now thought to Actinium. She believed in herself. Believed in the perfection of her design.

Like everything else, though, it’d taken time, and the last six years had exacted their toll. Had Celia been alive, she would have been horrified to see the state of Kasey’s hair, buzzed to save on the upkeep, and her living space, spartan as a space station, and her nonexistent social life. But Celia also would have been proud. As Kasey came to understand her sister’s every side, she realized Celia had never been scared of her bots. She was scared that she’d failed Kasey, been absent when Kasey, unaware of it herself, had needed a sister most.

Celia shouldn’t have worried. These days, Kasey needed very little. The things she did need—her bots, her labs—were dispensable. Not Celia.

The only place Kasey still found Celia was in her dreams. Her sister would be waiting every night, no matter how long it took for Kasey’s mind to release her. Together they would go down to the sea on a ladder. They would float for days under the sun, never pruning, and Kasey would reel up the words from the bottom of her heart:

I love you.

And even if you failed me,

I’d never replace you.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS



While I first drafted this story in 2017, I was revising it through 2020. It was a strange experience, to say the least, working on a plotline centering on a global disaster as one unfolded in real life. But even in an isolation not so different from Kasey’s, not a day went by without me thinking about people—specifically, the ones who made this book possible.

To Leigh (again) and Krystal: You believed in this story before I did. When I was facing a dead end, your words gave me the courage to hit SEND.

To John, who took on the torch of belief and pitched this one fiercely to all the right people, and to Folio, Kim Yau, Ruta Rimas, and Sarah McCabe as well: I will always cherish your reads.

To Jen Besser, who made me feel calm and at ease during our first call (a huge feat, for anyone who knows me): You helped me turn this story into something I could believe in myself. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

To the entire team at Macmillan, not limited to but including: Luisa Beguiristaín, Kelsey Marrujo, Mary Van Akin, Kristen Luby, Johanna Allen, Teresa Ferraiolo, Kathryn Little, Bianca Johnson, Allyson Floridia, and Lisa Huang. Thank you to Brenna Franzitta, and an extra big thank-you to Aurora Parlagreco, not only for the design but also for the hand-lettered title.

On the topic of art, my unending gratitude goes to Aykut Aydo?du for the cover, Paulina Klime, and Eduardo Vargas for the gorgeous endpaper illustrations. Thank you for gracing this story with your gifts.

To the entire team at Books Forward, especially Chelsea Apple, Ellen Whitfield, and Marissa DeCuir. Thank you for pitching Kasey and Celia so passionately.

To Marie Lu, for replying to that one email many years ago and for the kind words that have given me one of those rare, full-circle moments in this career.

One more time, to everyone involved in Descendant of the Crane. Eliza, you helped me grow immeasurably as a writer, and I will be thanking you with every book. Jamie, Lyndsi, Onyoo, Marisa, and Jordy, thank you for staying by this hermit in the most hermity year yet.

To Indigo for the staff pick of the month; Liberty Hardy for Book of the Month; Daphne Tonge for Illumicrate; Emily May, Chaima, and Vickie Cai for the reviews that introduced the book to so many new readers; and the bloggers, librarians, and booksellers who helped Descendant of the Crane find its footing. Last but certainly not least, thank you to all of Hesina’s Imperial Court, with special shout-outs to several members of the old guard: Shealea Iral, Mike Lasagna, Vicky Chen, Samantha Tan, Adrienne McNellis, Mingshu Dong, Bree of Polish & Paperbacks, Megan Manosh, Harker DeFilippis, Shenwei Chang, Jaime Chan, Sara Conway, Felicia Mathews, Lexie Cenni, Hannah Kamerman, Julith Perry, Sophie Schmidt, Emily Cantrell, Kristi Housman, Aradhna Kaur, Avery Khuan, Nathalie DeFelice, Justine May, Rebecca Bernard, Lauren M. Crown, Noelle Marasheski, Maria, Angela Zhang, Rita Canavarro, Heather (Young at Heart Reader), Lili, Stella NBFD, Davianna Nieto, Auburn Nenno, Jocelyne Iyare, Maddi Clark, Danielle Cueco, Zaira Patricia SA, Lauren Chamberlin, Kris Mauna, Sarah Lefkowitz, AJ Eversole, Michelle (magical reads), Anthony G., and Ashley Shuttleworth.

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