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She’ll know that I was here. And that I loved her.
She’ll always know that, unless she chooses to forget.
CHAPTER 27
XANDER
The village isn’t still at all. People are everywhere. Kids run the paths and play on an enormous stone in the center of the village. Unlike the sculptures in the Society’s greenspaces, this stone isn’t carved smooth. It’s rough and jagged where it broke away from the side of the mountain years ago. You can tell the people built the village around it. The children turn to look at us as we come past, and their eyes are curious, not afraid, which is nice to see.
The infirmary is a long wooden building across from the village stone. Once we’re inside, we carefully transfer Ky from his stretcher to a cot.
“We need to take both of you back to the research lab and interview you,” Leyna says to Cassia and me. Around us, the villagers’ versions of medics and nurses take care of the still. I do a quick count and see that Ky is the fifty-second patient. “We need Xander’s information about the Plague and its mutation, and we need Cassia to take a look at the data we’ve gathered. You’ll be more useful there. ” Leyna smiles to ease the blow of what she’s saying. “I’m sorry. I know he’s your friend, but really the best way to help him—”
“Is to work for the cure,” Cassia says. “I understand. But surely we have breaks now and then. I could come visit him. ”
“That’s up to Sylvie,” Leyna says, gesturing to an older woman standing near us. “I’m in charge of overseeing the cure as a whole, but she supervises the infirmary. ”
“I don’t mind as long as you scrub in and wear a mask and gloves,” Sylvie says. “It might be interesting to see. None of the others here have anyone to visit them. Maybe he’ll recover more quickly. ”
“Thank you,” Cassia says, her face bright with hope. I don’t want to tell her, Actually, talking to them and staying with them seems to make no difference at all. I kept talking to the patients myself. It’s instinct. And maybe the right person could make a difference. Who knows? I hope someone back at the medical center is talking to Lei. Would it have been better for me to stay there?
The door slams open. Cassia and I both turn, startled, and a man comes through the entrance. He’s tall and rail-thin, staring at us with shrewd dark eyes that peer out from under shaggy white eyebrows. His head is brown and smooth and bald. “Where is he?” he demands. “Colin told me there’s someone here who went down within the hour. ”
“Here,” Leyna says, pointing to Ky.
“It’s about time,” the man says, hurrying over to us. “What have I been telling the Pilot all along? Bring them to me when they’re still fresh and I might have a chance of getting them back. ”
Cassia doesn’t move away from Ky. She stays there, looking protective.
“I’m Oker,” the man says to us, but he doesn’t offer to shake hands. He carries a plastic bag full of liquid and his knotted hands grip it so tightly that it bulges and seems as if it might burst. “Damn it,” he says, noticing, and he holds it out to Sylvie. “Take it from me,” he says. “I’m seizing up. Don’t break my fingers. ”
Sylvie pries the bag out of his grip.
“Hook it up now,” he says, nodding toward Ky. “I just made this. It’s fresh. As fresh as he is. ” Then he laughs.
“Wait,” Cassia says. “What is it?”
“Better stuff than what the Rising gives them,” Oker says. “Go on,” he tells Sylvie. “Hurry up. ”
“But what’s in it?” Cassia asks.
Oker huffs and glares at Sylvie. “Take care of this. I don’t have time to go through all the ingredients. ” He pushes the door open with his shoulder and leaves the infirmary. I hear his shoes on the path outside as the door squeaks shut. He moves fast. His hands might be twisted, but there’s nothing wrong with his legs.
“He’s right,” Sylvie says. “At first, we used the nutrient bags the Pilot brought in from the Provinces, but then we ran out before the Pilot could deliver more. Oker made his own mixture to keep the patients alive and it seemed to work better, so we’ve been using it ever since. ”
“But won’t that compromise the cure?” I ask. “This isn’t what the patients back in the Provinces are getting. ”
“That may change,” Sylvie says. “Oker recently gave the Pilot the formula for the solution in the bags. If the Pilot can, he’s going to try to change what they use in the Provinces. ”
“What do you think?” Cassia asks me quietly.
“They do look better,” I say. “Their color is good. Hold on. ” I listen to one of the patients breathe. His lungs sound clear of fluid. I feel near his ribs—the spleen seems to be normal size.
“I think Oker’s telling the truth,” I say. I wish we’d had this formula earlier. Maybe it would have made a difference for our patients.
Cassia kneels down next to Ky. He looks ashier than the others, though he’s the most recently still. She sees it. “All right,” she says.
Sylvie nods and hooks up the bag that Oker brought in. Cassia and I watch Ky’s face to see if there is any change, which is stupid. Not many things work that fast.
But Oker’s stuff does. After only a few minutes, Ky does look a little bit better. It reminds me of the way the cure worked on the first Plague.
“It seems too good to be true,” Cassia breathes. She looks worried. “What if it is?”
“We don’t have a lot to lose,” I say. “What the Rising is doing in the Provinces isn’t working. ”
