Page 59 of Scion

“They want all evidence of de Alwes’s experiments destroyed. Every atrocity she created without them knowing.” The Dupe gives a disdainful look at the snakes holding it down, and then at the enormous cats watching a distance away, and then me.

“You think I’m the Dupe. I get it,” I tell it impatiently. “But that wasn’t an answer. Do they know where you are now?”

“Of course.”

That one’s a lie: its revs can’t hide it, and mine see it. Finally, some good news. It came after me because it was angry. No backup arriving from the Keres, at least not soon. I knew the Dupe was off script. Hah. Stupid Atti, making me doubt myself. “How long have you been working for them?”

“Six years.”

“And you have memories of these six years?”

It rolls its eyes again. “Yes.”

“What about from Oceanus?”

It looks at me darkly, unblinking despite the rain pelting its face. “I will not talk about that with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because my friend died. And I spent eight months in a coma. Which is when de Alwes made you, I assume.”

I don’t say anything for a long few seconds. Shocked, if I’m being honest. It has memories. It has my memories.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re talking about Landry.”

“Of course I’m…” It bares its teeth again, strains mightily against the glistening coils encircling it, as it sees my expression. “No. No. I don’t believe you.”

“We were friends. I had that awful little apartment next to his. A month in, he somehow conned DeGov into modding that balcony wall, so we could still hang out during lockdowns.” I look into the Dupe’s eyes. “Do you remember the morning of the explosion?”

“We had coffee. Real stuff, not printed.” It says it slowly. Something confused, and a little afraid, in its expression. “I was meant to run the sensors diagnostic just before that. First thing. Like always.”

“And?” I already know the answer.

“I don’t remember if I did,” it admits softly.

I squeeze my eyes shut, massaging my forehead. Oh no.

I’ve never told anyone that.

“I still do not believe you,” the Dupe snaps suddenly, looking offended, like I’ve managed to trick it somehow. “I will not—”

A blur of motion through the rain, and its head vanishes.

I make a panicked, confused dive for cover as the stump of Crimson’s neck gushes its name, but I needn’t have worried. The massive owl circles around through the downpour, then glides to a stop about five metres away. Crimson’s head, wearing a somewhat startled expression, is clutched in a single claw.

“What!?” I yell it at the winged bio as the snakes, apparently realising they’re no longer needed, let the headless corpse collapse to the ground. “What!? Why?” I throw up my arms in exasperation. “We were talking!”

The Hed waddles over and deposits Crimson’s head at my feet. Over near the forest, Richard stands and looks at it with great interest.

“No,” I snap irritably at the lion, holding a finger up warningly to indicate that Crimson’s edible status hasn’t changed. Then I sigh. Reach down and pick up the creature’s… gift. “At least you’re all consistent,” I grumble.

The owl chirps its agreement, unfurls its massive wings, and flies off into the darkness.

AZURE. ARE THOSE WHAT I think they are?”

“Yep.” I trudge on after exiting the EMP ring and replacing my earpiece, heading back toward the house. The drone buzzes in front of me, just above head height. Nose pointed first at the decapitated head I’m hauling by its hair in one hand, then at the body I’m dragging in the other.