Amber fell silent, and at first Reese simply stared at her. Everything that Amber said was so mind-boggling that Reese could barely keep it all straight. Finally Reese asked, “Is Akiya Deyir going to tell this whole story at the UN? The fact that you guys manipulated us like guinea pigs for millions of years?”
Amber winced. “I don’t know. It’s really complicated.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “If they go public about it, it completely upends your belief systems. Practically every single religious system. Evolutionary theory—at least as it applies to humans—is wrong. Some Imrians think it would be better if we start implementing the adaptation procedure first, so that humans can better understand why we did what we did.”
“What is there to understand?” Reese said, disgusted. “You guys treated us like lab rats. I think humans can understand that. Clearly we are descended from you.”
Amber sighed and shifted in place. She was wearing faded jeans that had a hole in one knee, and she hooked a finger in the hole and pulled at the threads as she spoke. “I get that. I do. But a lot of the Imria aren’t ready to face what would happen if they told humanity the whole truth right now. They believe that they created humans, and humans are their responsibility—their children. They think this adaptation procedure is going to help you grow up or something.”
Reese watched the hole enlarge. The skin of Amber’s knee peeked through. “You keep talking about the Imria as if you aren’t one. Are you saying you don’t buy their argument?”
Amber stopped messing with the hole and leaned back against the wall. “Not completely. I was born here; I grew up here. Sometimes I feel more like a human than an Imrian. I see what they mean, but I’m not sure they’re right.”
“Your mom doesn’t think they’re right either.”
Amber’s eyebrows drew together. “How do you know that?”
“She gave an Imrian DNA sample to David’s dad. That’s how we found out that humans are descended from the Imria. We wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t done that.”
“Yeah. Well, there’s been some disagreement among the Imria here about what to do. My mom—obviously she decided to do something about it.” A strange expression passed over Amber’s face, as if she were realizing something.
“What is it?” Reese asked.
“Nothing.” Amber gave Reese a small smile. “So, that’s about it. That’s everything, I swear.”
Reese shook her head in frustration. “That’s not everything. You guys need to tell the truth.”
“I can’t convince them,” Amber insisted. “They don’t listen to me anymore.”
“Then let me talk to your mom. David and I both need to talk to her—and to Akiya Deyir.” Amber looked doubtful, and Reese moved to sit on the edge of Amber’s bed, facing her. “You can’t let them go through with this lie. Even if it did work, and somehow the scientific board that David’s dad put together decides to sit on their research—which I seriously doubt will happen—our abilities aren’t—” Reese cut herself off. She had promised David that she wouldn’t tell anyone about their abilities without discussing it with him first, and she had almost spilled it all to Amber.
“Aren’t what?” Amber prompted.
Reese didn’t bother to invent a lie. Everything was going to come out tomorrow anyway. “I can’t tell you right now. I promised David. Could you ask your mom and Akiya Deyir to talk to us? Tomorrow, after David gets here.”
“I can’t guarantee they’ll listen to you even if they talk to you,” Amber warned her.
“They’ll listen,” Reese said, sounding more confident than she felt.
Amber said reluctantly, “Okay. I’ll ask.”
CHAPTER 29
Reese spent the rest of the day trying to do her homework and failing miserably. When her mom returned from her hike, they went downstairs for lunch and discovered that the dining hall was empty. “Your dad called and said he’s coming tomorrow,” her mom said as they assembled sandwiches from the tray of cold cuts. “What’s going on?”
“It’ll be safer here,” Reese said.
Her mom gave her a pointed look. “Safer?”
The conversation about CASS and the threats went about as well as Reese expected. Her mom exploded at her, completely freaked out by the fact that Reese had been putting herself in so much danger. “We weren’t in danger,” Reese protested. “There’s no real danger until—until tomorrow night.”
“Oh, that’s supposed to make it okay?”
“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t any other way.”
“How about you tell me about these things? Have you learned nothing from what happened to you earlier this summer?”
“Yes, I have learned!” Reese cried. “I’ve learned that I have to figure out what the fuck is going on before I say anything to anybody. That is what I learned. And we’re fine. You and I are fine, and David’s fine, and Dad’s going to be fine too—because I didn’t say anything.”
Her mom fumed. “You will tell me everything from now on.”
“Tomorrow,” Reese said, picking up her sandwich. “Once everyone is here—David’s family too—we will tell you all everything. I promise.” She knew she was taking a risk by talking to her mom like that, but she couldn’t think of any other way to do it. She wanted her mom to accept the fact that she was in control of this situation— even if she secretly worried that she wasn’t.
Her mom silently watched her eat. Reese saw the way her mom’s jaw had clenched, and she knew her mom was spinning through various counterarguments in her mind, trying to punch holes in her plan or find a way to pull the whole story out of her right now. To her credit, her mom finally said, “Tomorrow. You promise.”
“Yes,” Reese said quickly. “I promise.”
Nura Halba appeared midway through lunch, and Reese pulled him aside to ask if there was room for David’s family and her dad to stay on board for the next several days. He was taken aback, but he said he would find out. They didn’t see him again until dinner, when once more he was the only Imrian to join them in the dining hall. “Evelyn sends her apologies,” Halba said. “But it’s fine for your father and for David’s family to stay with us. We’ll all fly to New York on Sunday.”
“Where is everyone?” Reese’s mom asked. “I hope we haven’t frightened them all away.”
Halba gave her a strained smile. “Oh, no. They’re in meetings, preparing for the UN.”
After dinner, Reese and her mom went back up to their rooms. The ship felt empty and lonely. Before they parted, her mom said, “It might be nice to have your dad and David’s family here. It feels sort of abandoned, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Her mom opened the door to her room. “I have to work on a case tonight, but if you need anything, you know where I am. What are you going to do?”
Reese shrugged. “I’m still not done with my English homework. I have to read
Her mom nodded. “I never liked that book.”
Reese smiled. “Why not?”
