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Chapter 43

Priya stood on the platform above, one hand calling for quiet, the other holding a spear like a warrior queen. As the murmur in the room faded, she addressed the men, who seemed in awe of her.

“These outsiders claim to have come here at the bidding of the Gray Witch,” she announced. “I will speak to this one,” she continued, pointing to Kurt. “You will hold the other. No harm is to come to him unless I deem it to be necessary.”

Joe looked at Kurt. “Wait…I’m the hostage?”

Kurt laughed. “Sorry, amigo.”

“Just don’t make her mad,” Joe urged. “You have a tendency to make women upset.”

Kurt had no intention to do anything of the sort, but he did have questions. Lots of them. He was pulled away from Joe by a pair of the men, and hustled along beside Priya as she crossed the excavated part of the cavern and entered a tunnel.

This corridor seemed to lead to additional storerooms, which had been turned into living quarters that offered a small amount of privacy from unevenly placed sections of canvas acting as curtains and drapes.

Taking in what he could see, Kurt noticed spears and bows placed carefully against the walls and spied odd-looking geometric patterns scratched into the floors. In one room he saw metal tins filled with flowering plants taken from the rainforest. A bit of brightness in an otherwise drab place.

He and Joe had already guessed that this was one of the geothermal company’s test wells. The equipment and materials left behind had obviously proven useful for Priya and her people. But it was more than just a hideout; it was a home, a fortress, and a keep. A place where the clones—with Priya’s help—seemed to be creating their own society. One that already included its own rules, myths, and religion.

A distant part of his mind considered the chance that was being missed. For the anthropologists of the world, this place would have been the opportunity of a lifetime—perhaps the one time in history when a brand-new culture emerging from nothing could have been studied in real time.

Another part of his mind considered what Priya had done to help create it. The nonsense about touching the trees. The prayers to the Gray Witch.

He made no judgment, but the person he knew back at NUMA was logical to a fault. She was the person who chose kindness and compassion over all else, even visiting with the person who’d caused the accident that paralyzed her to help him in his own rehabilitation. He couldn’t imagine how far she’d have to be pushed to end up playing priestess to a society of clones who knew nothing about the world other than what she showed them.

At the end of the hall they came to a more properly arranged curtain. The draped canvas had a design of sorts. It suggested a place of some importance. One of the guards pushed the curtain aside while the other led Kurt past it.

They arrived in a small space with a second curtain waiting for them up ahead. A soft light filtered through the second curtain, as if candles were flickering inside the room beyond.

“Leave us,” Priya told Kurt’s keepers. “He will do me no harm.”

One of the men placed an open palm over his heart. “The Gray Witch protects you,” he said.

“And us all,” Priya replied, mimicking the gesture.

The two guards disappeared back through the outer curtain and Priya led Kurt through the inner one.

If Kurt had expected a sumptuous room fit for a queen, with a plush bed in the middle, covered in quilts or animal furs, surrounded by mosquito netting, candles, and perfumes, he would have been sadly disappointed.

The room was a utilitarian space with stone floors. It had concrete walls punctuated with bits of lava rock sticking out here and there. It was lit by more of the harsh LEDs—though some bulbs had been covered by fabrics to give the light a softer glow.

A workbench stood against one wall. He saw small motors, electronic gear, and other items spread across it. Tools and soldering irons occupied a shelf. Larger pieces of equipment in various states of disrepair sat scattered about the floor.

Nearby were a series of drawings, apocalyptic images with naked figures walking in a line out of a large mouth made of stone beneath a dreadful purple sky. Another depicted hundreds of skeletons lying in a field, weeds and grasses growing through the bones. Some type of rain or mist was sweeping over them, and a series of dark rectangles that looked suspiciously like a cityscape loomed in the distance. The final one was an endless mosaic of faces with numbers tattooed on them. All of them contain the now familiar 6.28 of TAU.

On the floor beside the three sketches he found another panel that looked half-finished. Far less intricate, it was nothing more than repeated brushstrokes. All of them heading outward from a central spot in five separate directions. Two lines going to the right were lengthy and extended, those going to the top of the panel were of medium length, and those going to the left and down were stubby and squat.

A lopsided asterisk . Disturbingly close in form to the satellite image depicting the path of the sea locusts as barren segments of ocean they’d left behind.

Kurt had a sense the images were meant to tell a story, and not a good one .

“Come here,” Priya said. She’d crossed to the far side of the room, where something of a living space had been set up. Piled-up rubber mats acted as a bed. On top, Kurt saw coats with the Pallos Corporation logo on them, sewn together to serve as a blanket. A seat cushion acted as a pillow. It seemed this group had made use of everything the mining company had left behind.

Kurt crossed the room cautiously as she pulled a knife from beneath the pillow.

“Sit down and raise your hands.”

Kurt took a seat and raised his arms, keeping them aloft as she cut through the vines. Happy to be free of the bindings, Kurt rubbed at his wrists and stretched a bit.

Priya stepped back, keeping a hold of the knife and studying him intensely. Perhaps it was her emaciated state that made her cheekbones and brow protrude unnaturally, but Kurt sensed a lot of anger in that gaze.

“Why have you come here?” she demanded.

Of all the questions she might have asked, this one made the least sense. “Because you asked us to,” Kurt said.

“The Gray Witch asked you,” she corrected.

“Aren’t you the Gray Witch?” Kurt said.

“No,” she replied without a hint of friendliness. “The Gray Witch helps us. She blinds TAU and offers gifts. We thank her by remaining faithful and waiting for deliverance.”

Kurt wondered if this performance was for an audience. Even priestesses had to keep the faith. Two curtains hanging between the room and the hall didn’t exactly equal the cone of silence. He could play along.

“And who exactly is TAU?” he asked.

“TAU is the machine,” she said. “TAU hunts us. TAU causes pain. TAU kills.”

“Vaughn’s machine,” Kurt said. “His computer.”

She didn’t respond.

“How does the Gray Witch blind TAU?” Kurt asked.

“We don’t know the method,” Priya replied. “It is a matter of faith. Now, tell me why you have come here.”

Figuring they were still performing for anyone who might be listening, he offered an explanation. “The Gray Witch sent us a message. She bid us to track the beacon, which I’m assuming you made on that workbench. We found the brothers whom she helped to escape. I’m sorry, but only one of them survived. He calls himself Five. He told us the story of this place. What Vaughn is doing to the brothers. He told us about the surgeries, the experiments, the torture. He said there are many others on the far side of the island who are being used like lab rats. We came here to find proof and bring it back to the world. I never expected we’d find you here…Priya.”

Mentioning Priya’s name seemed to have some effect. Her eyes softened. She looked him over more closely, as if seeing him for the first time. “Priya,” she whispered. “You…know…that…name?”

The words came slowly. Haltingly. As if she were confused.

Kurt leaned in closer so he could whisper. “Of course I know you,” he said. “You’ve gone a little overboard on the haircut, but your eyes, your face, your voice. You were part of our team for five solid years. How could I not recognize you?”

Confusion ran all over her face. She moved closer, taking a seat next to him. Eventually, she reached out and touched him, placing her hand on his and then sliding it up along his forearm. She stopped as she reached the rolled-up portion of his sleeve, seeming to prefer the skin-to-skin contact. “You know me?”

To Kurt’s surprise her large eyes glossed over, filling with so many tears that when they spilled it was like rain on her face. She placed her other hand on his arm and then leaned forward until her forehead rested against his.

Not entirely sure what to do, Kurt raised his free hand and wrapped it gently around her. She seemed almost ready to collapse, breathing deeply and quietly sobbing.

With his lips close to her ear, Kurt figured he could speak without anyone overhearing. “What are you doing here?” he whispered. “How are you walking?”

“She knows you,” Priya replied, ignoring the question. “She…knows…you…”

“Who knows me?”

Kurt’s words seemed to break the spell. Priya drew back, pulling her hands away and wiping away the tears with a sense of irritation. The hard, flinty look returned, and the trembling lips were replaced by a jaw of granite and a look of fury.

“I must stand,” she said.

She got up, but swayed awkwardly. Kurt reached out to steady her, but she swatted his hand away.

The personality shifts were sudden and jarring. Looking at the scars in her hairline, Kurt wondered about the damage Vaughn’s surgeries had done to her brain. Not to mention what appeared to be malnutrition, isolation, and the pressure of leading the escaped clones, keeping them alive and building a makeshift society and religion around them.

Any and all of those things could damage a mind, and yet Kurt felt there was something more.

He watched as she crossed the room to a metal sink attached to the far wall. Reaching it, she grasped the edge and leaned on it for support. She turned on the water, running it for several seconds, and then reached down and splashed some of it on her face.

As her strength returned, she stood up straight and pulled off the camouflaged hoodie, tossing it aside. Beneath it she wore only a threadbare T-shirt that clung to her body with sweat and humidity.

She was skin and bones, Kurt thought. Her ribs and the knots of her spine visible through the thin, wet fabric. He followed the line of her backbone all the way down to the tops of her hips. Not a single scar could be seen. Not from the automobile accident that had nearly killed her, nor from the surgeries performed to stabilize her spine after the wreck, nor from anything Vaughn had done to restore her mobility.

Suddenly, Kurt understood. “You’re not Priya.”

The woman turned around, appearing relieved. “My name is Kai,” she said. “I’m Priya’s clone.”

Every time Kurt thought he’d figured things out, he seemed to find another mystery. But with this revelation he could feel the tumblers clicking into place.

“Priya’s the Gray Witch,” he said quietly. “She’s the one you reach out to. The one who blinds TAU’s drones, sends messages, and keeps you hidden.”

Kai nodded.

“Where is she?” Kurt asked.

“With TAU,” Kai said. “In the endless darkness and silence.”

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