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I nodded, even though the room gave me the creeps. I wasn’t through exploring. What other secrets had the king hidden? I turned on the computer and scrolled through dated files, some of which seemed to match the blood samples I’d found earlier.
I flinched when I clicked on a video file markedretinal extraction. The king’s voice filled the small space, so close it felt like he was in the room with me. He was facing the camera, looking innocuous in a white lab coat. The bodies of two girls twitched on metal tables behind him, hooked up to machines. Needles and metal claws had removed their eyes.
“Test subjects 327 and 329,” Richard said. He paused, before taking a breath. “Both reacted negatively to the treatment. When I first made the elixir, it was too strong. The thirst in the blood, for regeneration, can be overpowering. Unless fed, elites will lose all sense of reason. I had set a 20-year goal, then 50. Now we’re closing in on 100 years. My temporary solution, my social farce, has not been without hiccups, but continues to run as I planned, if marginally well. Of course there’s no one else who appreciates what I’m really doing or what the end goal is. I wish I could tell my son but I’m not sure he’d understand.”
“You guys have to hear this,” I called through the open door.
“Tell us about it later,” April called back. I waited a few moments before hitting play again.
“The obvious weakness is that the elite cannot procreate. How can they be the apex predator they were meant to be, the next evolution of mankind—stronger, faster and healthier than any organic being before them—if they can’t even reproduce: the primary biological imperative. The other obvious problem is their continued dependence on human blood. Even though our bodies are themselves inert, we depend on living tissue from organic hosts. Without constant transfusion and fresh blood, our bodies quickly deteriorate into a feral, animalistic state.”
“In an ideal world, I would find a way to make elite self-sufficient, and we could do away with the problematic human communities while also being able to procreate; or, alternatively, alter human DNA to the extent that’s it’s half-elite—not immortal exactly, but stronger, with robust systems that do not depend on blood or elixir and can handle organic energy supplies; as close to elite as possible while still being able to reproduce. Unfortunately, the young girls we’ve tested so far have not responded well to treatments.”
I paused the video as King Richard finished the file and placed it into a cabinet in the corner. I scanned the room. The furniture had been moved, so it took a moment to find the same cabinet. I opened it and peered through the hundreds of files. Each one had a number and a face. Young girls, pretty. Smiling or nervous. And then another, with their corpses and crossed-out eyes. Failed experiments. Deposited outside the walls in secret, mixed in with the trash.
How could this have been allowed to happen? Where did all these girls come from?
“What did you find?” April asked, as I rejoined them.
“The king was running experiments. Trying to merge the races I think. Not human or elite. Just one thing. But it didn’t work.”
“Didn’t it?” April asked. “I mean, you’re here.”
Renitent.Had my grandfather befriended Damien to steal this research and continue it? Was I the product of all this horror?
“It didn’t work right away, in those girls,” Zane said. “But the catalyst, that John Patten smuggled out. Maybe he changed his own DNA, but it affected his wife, his daughter. She survived. And then years later, she got pregnant and had you. Maybe the king figured out what you were, and that’s why Damien wanted to keep it so secret. You were the thing the king had spent decades searching for. Accidental, in the wild, not under the control of his creepy little laboratory.”
“Does it change anything?” April asked. “I mean, right now?”
“I guess not,” I said. But I felt the weight of the kingdom’s history as it pressed down on me, making me anxious. “If we do this, poison the blood supply. Turn all the elite. That means, no more elixir. No more renewal. No more curates. You’re ok with all that?”
“These are long-term, theoretical questions,” Zane said. “None of it matters unless we actually have the power to do something about it. So let’s do that first. Seize control. Oh, and curate Marcus told me to tell you, about your siblings. He checked around but can’t find them. Richard stashed them somewhere.”
“He threatened them,” I said. “In Skormhead, just before I killed him.”
“So, they must still be alive,” Zane said.
I didn’t answer. I questioned the logic, and I wasn’t ready to tell them about why I’d really dropped the jar. Would we even be able to find them? Or would King Richard make me search for their pieces, tucked in jars around the citadel, like a twisted scavenger hunt?
“I’m sure they’re fine,” April squeezed my hand.
“What about Damien?” Zane asked. “Don’t we need him?”
“Yes. I need to find him first, and free him before the crowning. But I need weapons. And just in case something goes wrong, I need to do something with all of this,” I said, gesturing at the bubbling chemistry set.
“Then do it,” April nodded. “I think it’s ready. Here’s the first batch at least. I’ll prepare some for you.”
She poured the solution into two long vials. The purified antidote was a shimmering pink. Then she carefully put the leftovers into three small syringes I could carry with me.
“I’ll try Madame Brezing first,” I said. “She was aiding the rebels before, she’s connected, and she might help us. I’ll give her one vial. The other, I’ll take to the practice center, before training.”
“What about the lock? They can’t know that you were there.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I said.
“Alright. Come back after that. We’ll need to take more blood, and finish up here. Then… I’ll help you find Damien, and your siblings.”
I nodded, tucking the vials into the leather satchel, strapped around my shoulder under my cloak, then stepped outside, sprinting down the hall as Zane disabled the monitors.
