Dr. Skousen regained his voice first. “You’re . . . dying? All of you?”
“We discovered ParaGen designed us with an expiration date,” said Samm. “At twenty years, the process that halts our aging reverses, and we shrivel and die within weeks, sometimes days. It’s not accelerated aging. It’s decay. We rot alive.”
Kira’s mind reeled. This was the great secret he’d never dared tell—that the Partials had a ticking clock, just like the humans did. That’s why they wanted a truce. She was too shocked to move, but looked at the senators, trying to guess what they were thinking. Kessler was smiling, but Hobb and Weist were staring at Samm with shocked eyes and open mouths. Delarosa looked like she was trying not to cry, though Kira couldn’t tell if they were tears of joy or sorrow. Weist was mumbling under his breath, his mouth moving almost as if he didn’t realize it. Mkele was stone faced and silent.
“They’re dying,” said Kessler, and Kira nearly recoiled from the vicious glee in the woman’s voice. “Do you realize what this means? The first Partials were created in the third year of the Isolation War, which was . . . ten years before the Partial War. Twenty-one years ago. The first wave of them would have started dying last winter, and the youngest have what, two years left? Three at the most? And then they’ll be gone forever.”
“Everyone will be gone forever,” said Samm, and Kira felt more emotion in his voice, more earnestness, than she’d ever felt before. “Both of our species are going extinct—every sapient life form on the planet is going to die.”
“Our shelf life is longer than yours,” said Delarosa. “I think we’ll take our chances on our own.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” said Kira, finally finding her voice. “Without them there is no cure.” She looked at Samm, finally understanding his pleas. “We have to work together.”
Samm nodded. “You can have babies, but they die of RM; we’re completely immune, but we can’t reproduce. Don’t you see? We need each other. Neither species can beat this alone.”
“Think what this will do for morale,” said Hobb. “Once the people hear this, they’ll . . . they’ll declare it a holiday. A new Rebuilding Day.”
“What is wrong with you people?” Kira demanded, struggling to stand before collapsing heavily back into her chair. “He thought you’d kill him when you heard his secret, but it’s worse.”
“We were always going to destroy it,” said Mkele. “That was never in question.”
“What this means now,” said Delarosa, “is that we’re going to do it in public, where this news can get out and do its job: unifying the human race.”
“Try to see the larger picture,” Hobb said to Kira. “You’re trying to save a group of people who are actively killing one another in the streets. Do you think a treaty with the enemy is going to change that? If they won’t even listen to us, what makes you think they’ll do anything for a Partial?” Hobb leaned forward, earnest and intense. “The Voice were calling for our heads long before the Partial showed up, and if word gets out that we’re hiding one, it will only get worse. The people are going to want answers; they’re going to need answers. And they need us to provide those answers, because when we provide them we’ll win the people back. We’ll have control of the island again; we’ll have peace again. We know you want peace.”
“Of course,” said Kira, “but—”
“Be careful,” murmured Delarosa, looking not at Kira but at Senator Hobb. “What are you telling her?”
“She can help,” said Hobb. He fixed Kira with eyes so deep and blue she felt herself caught by them, drawn in like water in a glass. “You’re an idealist,” he said. “You want to save people; we want to give you that opportunity. You’re also intelligent, so you tell me: What do the people want?”
“They want peace,” said Kira.
“Nobody blows up a building because they want peace,” said Hobb. “Try again.”
“They want . . .” Kira watched Hobb’s face, wondering where he was going with this. What do the people want? “They want a cure.”
“Too specific.”
“They want a future.”
“They want a purpose.” Hobb spread his hands, gesturing grandly as he spoke. “They want to wake up in the morning knowing what they’re supposed to do, and how they’re supposed to do it. A future will give them purpose, and a cure will give them a future, but down at the core, the purpose is all they really want. They want a destination—they want a goal they can reach for. When we established East Meadow, we thought that the goal of curing RM would be enough. But it’s not a goal we’ve been able to reach, and over eleven years of fruitless nothing the people have fallen apart. Their purpose has withered and died. We need to give them something attainable—do you see where I’m going with this? We need to give them Samm.”
“No!” shouted Kira.
“Nobody knows who caused that explosion,” said Senator Delarosa. “It was probably the Voice, yes, but what if it was a Partial?”
Kira felt the room grow cold. “It wasn’t.”
“But what would it mean for humanity if it was?” Hobb licked his lips, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “Humanity needs a purpose, and now this Partial has blown up our hospital.” He snapped his fingers. “There’s their purpose: an enemy! The people grow enraged—not against us, but with us. The island unites against a common foe. It might even sway the Voice—can you imagine what a coup that would be? All the rebels back on our team again, all this anger and violence directed out instead of in. The human race is tearing one another apart, Kira, but this will save it. Surely you can see that.”
“But it’s a lie,” said Kira.
“Because only a lie will save us in time,” said Delarosa. “I want a cure more than anyone, and yes, a real cure might unite us, but the clock has run out. The Voice have issued an ultimatum of civil war; the devil is at the gates. If we don’t do something now, tomorrow, we lose our chance to do anything at all.”
There was something wrong with their story—even beyond the obvious deception, there was something deeper and darker lurking somewhere inside. It made Kira queasy. “Why are you telling me this?”
“This plan will work without you,” said Hobb, “but think how much better it will be with you. You’re young and pretty, you’re capable and idealistic, and you’ve been at the heart of everything we’ve done—you went to Manhattan and brought back the secret, you searched for the cure, and you were injured in the line of duty by the first Partial attack in eleven years.” He gestured at her leg. “If we tell this story, people will believe it; if you tell this story, people will die for it. You can make it personal and meaningful—you can be the hero who unites the world again. You’ll be the face of peace.”
“This is evil,” said Kira. “You’re asking me to lie to everyone I know.” She pointed at Samm. “You’re asking me to be a part of his murder.”
“The wolves are hungry,” said Delarosa. “We can kill ourselves fighting them, or we can throw them a body. The death of one Partial is the cheapest price for peace we could ever hope to pay.”
And then all at once, like a thunderbolt in her brain, Kira saw it—the deeper secret she couldn’t see before. The senators wanted to use this explosion to win back the Voice, but that would never work if the Voice had been the ones to set the bomb: They would know the Senate was lying. The only way to blame Samm was to use an event that no one knew the truth about, and that meant the Voice didn’t set that bomb.
For the Senate’s plan to work, the bomb had to be set by . . . the Senate.
She almost shouted it out right there, accusing