The Gender Game (29 page)

I dashed along the corridor, back to the stairwell. I scaled the first flight of stairs, and as I reached the second I heard the second round of explosions, higher up in the building. Lee hadn't been joking when he’d said I needed to get out in time.

The door at the top of the stairwell was like a gateway to heaven as I reached it. I pulled down hard on the handle, pushing it open, and staggered out into the cool night breeze.

I'd done it. I'd made it out alive.
And now… where was Lee?

I gazed around the rooftop, whose atmosphere was quickly clogging with smoke. Lee wasn't up here.

Did something go wrong?

Rotors whirred above me. My immediate fear was that it was one of Patrus' helicopters called to the incident.

I was sure that they would arrive soon, but this… this was not one of them. This was something… I wasn't even sure how to describe. It was a bizarre hybrid aircraft. Its body was a large motorcycle, long enough to fit four people. Above it, fixed to a thick pole that ran down the center of the motorcycle, were spinning rotors. And on either end of it—where the wheels should have been—were two square wooden boxes, big enough to fit two men: I guessed some kind of balancing mechanism. Sitting on the seat and clutching the handles was Lee. He was twisting the latter to navigate the aircraft.

This must have been what he had been working on all along in his garage. "Fixing" his third spare motorcycle. I had assumed that by "arranging transport" for us, Lee had meant that Matrus would have provided something. But no. All this time he had been building an illegal aircraft in his basement. His engineer Chris had also broken the law. Lee must've bribed him well… and hidden the aircraft somewhere nearby in anticipation of tonight.

Lee looked relieved to see me, to say the least. He lowered the aircraft within two feet of the ground. Clutching the egg with one arm, I hauled myself up onto the seat and sat behind him.

"Hand me the egg," Lee said.

I placed it on his lap. He carefully slid it into a basket at the base of his seat, keeping it protected with both feet.

I wrapped my arms firmly around his waist as we took off. As we moved past the rooftop of the lab, my stomach flipped. As we flew over a sheer drop, I couldn't even see the ground because of the smoke, and certainly nobody could see us.

Lee sped up—we had to get out of here before Patrian aid arrived.

We headed firmly eastward, leaving the smoke-infested area. The river came into view, and Matrus' border loomed in the distance. Screams and shouts still echoed in my head as I glanced back over my shoulder at the destruction we had left behind. Then my eyes dragged over the rest of the city, and the looming mountains beyond.

So long, Patrus… So long.

L
ee
and I had been quiet the whole journey. As we reached Matrus' border, he hovered a little lower, closer to the tops of the building. When I realized we were headed straight for Queen Rina's palace, I asked, "Are you going to finally tell me what's in the egg or not?"

"Not," Lee replied, clipped. "I don't have permission. That doesn't change because we've crossed borders. You'll have to ask the queen or Alastair and see if they'll reveal it to you. Alastair will have the key, and no doubt he'll want to verify the egg's contents are intact."

I ground my teeth. After everything I'd been through, I felt I was owed an explanation. I would ask Alastair when I next saw him. When I'd spoken to him before we left for the banquet earlier this evening, he'd said that he and the queen would be waiting to receive us on the highest floor of the palace—which was where the queen's private residential quarters were.

Passing over the wall of the palace compound, we flew to a circular landing pad on its roof and, with a shudder, touched down. My knees felt weak as I slipped off the seat, my bare soles touching the concrete. I still had my heels strung around my right arm. I shook them off, letting them fall to the floor.

"You don't have any spare shoes with you, do you?" I asked Lee. My shoulder bag was too small to hold much other than the tools.

Lee got off the motorbike and opened up the seat, pulling out a black backpack with a pair of shoes inside. "I did bring these, actually. In case anything went wrong and we had to do some extra running." They were my old shoes, the ones I'd arrived in Patrus with. I gave my handbag—which I had no further use for—to Lee, who dropped it into the underseat compartment before I slipped the shoes on and tied up the laces.

After snapping the seat shut, Lee turned his focus to a door fifteen feet away. I was about to start walking toward it, but he caught my hand and held me back.

"Wait here with the egg," he said. "I need a private word with them first."

I stayed put as Lee disappeared through the door. I breathed in deep, gazing around at the sparkling lights of Matrus City. It felt so strange to be back. I suspected it would take a few days to erase Patrus from my brain. To remember that I didn't legally require a man for anything anymore. That men were the ones who submitted to us.

But I didn't feel as liberated as I should have.

I was still feeling numb. I had several hours to wait until the Benuxupane wore off. I would see what emotions flooded back to me then.

Lee was longer than I had expected him to be. I wondered what he was talking about.
Something about me?

Finally I heard footsteps returning up the stairwell. He emerged from the doorway, his bunched tuxedo jacket and bag over one shoulder, while stuffing black gloves into one pocket.

His expression was serious as he said, "Okay, you can go down now. First door on your right after leaving the staircase. I'll fetch the egg."

I ventured down the stairwell, which consisted of two flights of steps, through an open reinforced door, and into a long quiet hallway. It was lined with embroidered silk carpets, and the high walls were bedecked with portraits of Queen Rina's family and lineage. I paused to gaze at her seven daughters. They shared her features prominently: slanted brows and sharp cheeks. Their ages ranged from seven to twenty-six. All conceived via insemination—all female. Matrus' doctors had methods of maximizing the chances of conceiving a female, but they weren't always accurate. Abortion wasn't permitted in Matrus, however—not even of male children—so I supposed the queen must have gotten lucky. (To my knowledge, abortion wasn’t allowed in Patrus either.)

I continued and stopped outside the first door on my right. It was half open. I knocked briefly before stepping inside a warmly-lit library, bordered by towering cherrywood bookcases. My eyes fell on the round table in the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed chairs. I could make out the queen and Alastair sitting next to each other, backs toward me.

I approached the table and circled it to greet them… only to lay eyes on two corpses.

Their heads lolled over their chests, their backs slumped, their fronts drenched in blood. Etched across their throats were wide, still-oozing gashes.

I stood, paralyzed. I blinked hard and fast, wondering if it was a hallucination brought on by the drug. I touched Queen Rina's stiff shoulder.

It wasn't a hallucination.

It was real.

A bloodstained knife lay in front of the bodies, a few centimeters away from a message that had been scratched into the wooden table surface:

"FOR THE BOYS OF MATRUS."

My veins turned to ice.

"Lee," I choked. "Lee!" I staggered out of the room and rushed to the staircase as I continued to call for him. My voice gained volume as I ascended the steps… and caught the sound of whirring rotors.

"LEE!" I screamed, leaping the final steps and bursting out onto the roof.

Lee and his aircraft were already four feet in the air, and soaring toward the edge of the building.

"LEE! NO!"

His head tilted toward me, an almost apologetic expression on his face as he called down in a steady, steely voice, "I'm sorry, Violet. If we want truth in our world, some things must be done, and sacrifices must be made.”

His words barely registered in my brain. My mind couldn't make sense of what was happening.

I had just walked in on the queen and Alastair murdered. And now Lee was flying away. With the egg.

In a haze of panic, my throat clamped up. I could no longer even scream.

Adrenaline then took over. His aircraft still being within reach, I lunged forward and, with a jump I'd hardly thought I was capable of, I grabbed hold of one of the bars that lined the aircraft's undercarriage just three seconds before it crossed the roof's perimeter. Thrust over a sheer drop of over thirteen floors, I fought to maintain my grip on the bars as the aircraft dipped with my weight.

Pulling my legs upward, I hooked them over another bar on the other side of the carriage, gaining a better hold while the aircraft continued to speed away from the palace.

As I was on the verge of attempting to pull myself higher, Lee's heavy boot crashed down against my right hand. Bone cracked. Pain erupted from my middle finger and seared up my wrist. My right hand slipped.

Hanging now by only one hand and my legs, I thrust my right arm toward a bar near the center of the undercarriage and forced my throbbing hand to wrap around it.

As Lee moved to drive his boot down against my left hand, I could afford to relinquish my grip. I let go a second prior to his boot hitting the metal. Before he could withdraw it again, I clamped my fingers around his ankle and jerked downward with all the strength I possessed.

I heard the scraping of his second boot against the motorcycle's uneven metal floor. He was sliding. Then he was shrieking. He was falling. Past me. Way past me. Down, down, down. And then, within the blink of an eye, he was lying spread-eagled on the pretty brick path that ran through the queen's back garden. Rigid and still.

T
he dose
of Benuxupane Lee had given me wasn't strong enough to suppress the fear ripping through my chest. Clinging to the base of the aircraft, the blood rushing to my head as I gaped down at Lee's dead body, I felt paralyzed. I was barely even aware that the aircraft was continuing to soar ahead unmanned. I was lost in the past, reliving every second of the last ten minutes.

What just happened?

Why?

Why did he do it?

My sweating right hand sliding on the bar snapped me back to the present. I felt numb all over from shock, but I had to climb up onto the motorcycle unless I wanted to join Lee in the queen's ornamental grounds.

Gradually, I managed to maneuver my way upward, making use of my left hand over my right as much as I could, until I was perched on the motorcycle's seat, my feet planted firmly on either side of me. I gripped the base of my seat and gazed back at the increasingly distant palace. Lee's form fell out of my vision, the high wall bordering the palace concealing him. The aircraft no longer seemed to be ascending much, but it was hurtling forward with unnerving speed. I looked ahead of me, over the sprawling city, and the suburbs beyond. Terror clawed at me. I had not the first clue how to navigate this thing. It was a wonder to me that it was even still flying, that it hadn't crashed to the ground the moment Lee fell out.

Where am I going?

What. Just. Happened?

I didn't know how to start making sense of it. But what I did know was that I had to put as much distance between myself and that palace as possible, as fast as possible. I didn't know how long it would take for the queen and Alastair's bodies to be discovered. I cursed myself for making so much noise when shouting for Lee. After discovering their corpses, I'd fallen into a stupor of disbelief and been so stupid as to place a hand upon the queen's shoulder. A bare hand. I'd left behind my trace. And whoever discovered them would notice that the door that led up to the rooftop had been left open. They'd search the roof, notice Lee's body, if that hadn't been discovered beforehand. And realize I would be missing.

I didn't know whether anyone else in that palace was aware of the mission Lee and I were supposed to be carrying out in Patrus. Whether they knew that we were due to return in Lee's makeshift aircraft. But if anyone did know, surely the first thing they would assume was that I had gone flying off with it. They'd send a horde of helicopters after me.

This could be happening at any moment.

My heart quivering, I fixed my eyes ahead and dared place my hands on the handlebars for support.

How does this thing work?

I'd caught a glimpse of Lee twisting the throttle while riding it, the way you would twist the throttle of a regular motorcycle. Was that action spurring the aircraft forward? Were any of the bike's other parts used for similar functions? The brakes for slowing?

God. This is insane.

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I mustered the courage to twist the throttle. The engine chugged. The rotors spun faster. The aircraft's speed increased. I blew out unsteadily. I'd figured out how to accelerate. Stopping—and eventually landing—would be another terrifying experience entirely. But I had no idea when I could stop or land. I couldn't anywhere in the city, or in the suburbs. With the queen's death, this entire area would soon be swarming with wardens. I had to go further. Beyond the suburbs…. The Green. That was where I would reach if I kept moving. And then? Once I reached The Green? Then what?

What had Lee been thinking? Where had he been planning to head? Back to Patrus? Was that where his loyalties really lay?

Then why the hell would he agree to blow up the lab and attempt to kill the king in the process?

He couldn't have been loyal to Patrus. And I couldn't believe that he would head back there. He had been navigating northward. In the same direction I was going now. The Green.

Where was Lee's backpack? I couldn't see it hanging anywhere. And, for that matter, where was the egg?
That blasted egg
. They must be in the compartment beneath my seat.

Before I could even begin trying to formulate my next step, I had to attempt to figure Lee out. How could he have been playing both sides all along? And why? For the egg? Why did he want it? It struck me that he must have taken the key from Alastair before he murdered him. Hopefully it hadn't still been on Lee's person when he'd fallen.

I threw another anxious glance over my shoulder. I could barely even make out the palace anymore.

The city was slipping away beneath me, and soon, so were the suburbs. I twisted the throttle, increasing the aircraft's speed further.

Daring to stand, I unlatched the seat to reveal a much larger compartment than I'd expected to find. Shafts of moonlight escaping through the clouds revealed Lee's backpack, dozens of tins of food, bottles of water, three guns, four knives, five aerosol sprays (the same variety that Ms. Dale had brought with us to The Green), spare clothing, a flashlight, a breathing mask, thick gloves… and the egg, safely stowed in one corner. He had come prepared for The Green.

I grabbed the flashlight and the backpack before closing the seat and resuming my sitting position. Switching on the light, I unzipped the main compartment and began to rummage in search of the key. Within it was another knife, a box of matches, a loop of rope, an unlabeled white tube of pills that looked suspiciously like Benuxupane, a compass, a camera… and then two photographs. I removed the compass and placed it in a small holder that was fixed beneath the gears. Then I picked up the photographs and shone my light down on them. My breath hitched. One of them displayed an all-too-familiar sight: the table in the queen's library, etched with the words "
FOR THE BOYS OF MATRUS"
. The second displayed a different message. "
FOR THE MEN YOU WILL DECEIVE"
was scratched into the tinted windshield of a shiny gold sedan. It looked like King Maxen's vehicle. Perhaps Lee had scratched that message while it was pulled up in the lab's parking lot, after the blast. We had parted ways on the ground floor.

What does all this mean?

What about the boys of Matrus?

Fear surged through me as I recalled Viggo's speculation.
No. They can't be killing the marked ones. They can't be.

As I dove deeper into the backpack, my fingers closed around a crumpled piece of paper. I pulled it out and flattened it. It was covered with smudged black handwriting. My mouth fell open as I began to read.

"Desmond,

I regret what I will have to do. To Violet Bates the criminal. Chris Patton the engineer. Duncan Friedman the arms specialist. Seb Morrissey the camera technician. Jacob Venn the immigration officer. But when we have the egg and its key, I will remember that each served their purpose.

Sacrifices must be made.

I imagine the furor I will have created in both nations tonight. I can't be sure that King Maxen will be killed, but Patrus' prize lab will be shaken, and on Matrus' side, the queen and Alastair will be wiped out.

And neither nation will have the egg.

It's possible Patrus will piece together the puzzle and discover that the terrorist was not Viggo Croft. Even if they consider my and Violet's sudden absence a casualty of the explosion, we will have hardly left a hole-free trail. It doesn't matter. I don't give a damn whether a war sparks between the two nations on the back of my actions.

Every step I've taken to "conceal" Violet's and my tracks and place the blame on Viggo has been mostly a front for Violet so that she continues to trust that I'm in line with Matrus' wishes, as well as to satisfy Alastair, who continues to hound me for updates.

Alastair intends for me to assassinate Viggo after he shows up at the lab. Make it look like he committed the crime and then claimed his own life as some kind of statement. That would ensure Matrus' involvement being ruled out of the picture. But I won't bother with that.

Because, again, I don't care.

As I've sensed Violet beginning to get more out of control, however, it's been important that I rein her in. She is still of use to me, and I need her obedience. I've tried to command it with affection (albeit half-heartedly). That's had no effect on her. I've had to control her by other means, like monitoring her with the tracker. And I'll feed her a pill. I think that will be needed in order for the night to run smoothly.

God knows, I've had enough obstacles already. But it will all come through in the end. I know it will.

Patrus believes me to be Patrian. Matrus believes me to be Matrian. They don't know that I belong to neither.

I am a man of no nation.

Many people see that as a curse. But for me, it's a gift. It's allowed me to perceive the world in a way that others can't. Others who are too embedded in the two systems to even consider a life beyond that which has been chalked out for them.

I'm not sure how far back my discontent has dated with the two societies. Perhaps as early as eight. But I remember the day I finally decided I needed to escape.

It was only recently, soon after King Maxen's ascent to the throne. By some twist of providence, two incidents I haven't been able to ignore occurred within the space of a few days. I discovered the real reason King Maxen commissioned Benuxupane, and the truth about the marked boys of Matrus.

Since the two incidents, it's simply been a matter of waiting for the right opportunity. If I am going to escape, I want to leave with a bang, so to speak. I want to leave a mark on both nations—one neither will forget in a hurry.

When the egg went missing from Matrus, I saw my opportunity and seized it.

The truth is, even I don't know what's within that sleek metal egg. All I know is that anything both governments want can't be a good thing for anyone, no matter how many self-serving lies they spout.

And so, with this mission, I will be able to accomplish both objectives in one strike. Mark, and flee.

Just as I will leave a note for Matrus, I will also leave one for Patrus.

I don't know where I will head, or if I will survive. If there is anything at all beyond that mass of forest.

But even if The Green is indeed as endless as people believe, if my aircraft gives way before I manage to cross it and I never live to discover what lies beyond the trees… I don't care.

I will have lived a fuller life in the past twenty-four hours than in all of my twenty-five years of living.

I will die a free man.

Not a pawn in someone's game.

Lee."

As I finished reading, my hands were trembling so hard I could no longer hold the paper straight. This strange letter exploded a dozen questions in my mind, but I could focus on only one.

The boys. What had Lee discovered about the boys?

Folding up the paper, I slipped it back into the bag. My heart palpitating, I continued to search through its contents. I discovered a small silver key in one of the side pockets. Retrieving it, I stood up again and opened the seat. I planted the backpack inside before reaching down to scoop up the egg. I placed it on my lap as I resettled.

The keyhole was near the base. Attempting to still my hands, I managed to insert the key into the hole and twisted it clockwise. It moved two hundred and seventy degrees before stopping. There was a click, and then a smooth crack appeared around the center of the egg. Drying my hands of perspiration against my ripped dress, I eased open the egg's lid… and stared.

Only the top half of the silver casing would unlatch and it lifted to expose a second, smaller egg that fit snugly inside it. Its walls appeared to be made of some kind of extremely thick glass, and within it swirled… a sack of liquid. The sack's wall was thick, spongy and transparent. It stuck flush to the glass like it had been glued there. The liquid's texture was gooey and semi-transparent, its color brownish-amber. I touched the exterior with my finger. It was warm. Shockingly warm. The very bottom of the egg was taken up by a black plate whose base was concave, to fit the shape of the egg. I guessed that was some sort of temperature-controlling device. Shining my flashlight directly through the murky liquid, I spotted something else. It was small, smaller than the center of my palm.

It looked like an embryo.

What type of embryo, exactly, I wasn't knowledgeable enough about biology to tell. It was still in early stages of development. I could make out the bulge of a head, the curve of a back, several bumps which I guessed would be limbs. A translucent cord was attached to its midriff. The cord connected the fetus to the center of the egg's base, that strange plate thing.

What is this?

Why do Matrus and Patrus want it so badly?

What did Lee want with it?

It could be an animal… It could be a human.

A sudden gust of wind shook me out of my stupor. It was strong enough to wobble the aircraft. Given that I hadn't been holding on to anything for support—and I still couldn't with the egg in my hands—my feet shot outward over the floor to steady myself. In the process, my heel shifted a lever at the base of my seat that I hadn't even noticed.

Two alarmingly loud creaks emanated from the wooden boxes fixed to either end of the motorcycle. I tensed up, petrified I'd done something fatal.

What I was not expecting was for the bases of the wooden boxes to suddenly flap open, and for four bodies to tumble out.

Four male bodies.

I almost choked on my tongue as I realized I recognized one of them: his faded dungarees, his gray-speckled hair. His frozen, stubbled face. It was Chris the mechanic.

Hurtling down with the other three men to a quiet suburban street, they made contact with the concrete with a sickening splat.

The other three men
. They had to be the other three red dots on Lee's monitor. Duncan, Seb, and Jacob.