Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
I’m desperate to finish whatever is happening here and get back to my real body because ever so slowly, over the course of this interaction, the sound of chanting has come back. And it’s not just the begging, either.
It’s the horde.
Epsilon! Epsilon! Epsilon!
The fight! It’s happening right now!
And that’s what the begging is!
It’s… Tyse. Calling for me!
Clara!
He’s dying.
He’s losing. “He needs me!” I yell. Aiming my frustration at Haryet.
“No.” For the first time since that night she walked through the tower doors, Haryet speaks to me. “He doesn’t need you, Clara. He needs this.” She steps aside, allowing me to see the chain of Spark Maidens behind her. They hold hands. Millions of them. Billions of them. All dead from harvest.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. When you take it.”
I stare at her, blinking. Trying my best to sort this out. “Take… the source?” My gaze lifts past her, looking at the chain. Maidens connected through touch. Haryet, the end. Delivering a thread of spark.
I can take as much as I want.
I can save us!
“Look again, Little Sister,” Haryet coos—only she’s not pointing to the Source, she’s pointing to my body. All over it are the names of the Factory women. Dull and lifeless, save for one, which is glowing. The symbol Haryet touched. The one that has a tiny bit of spark to make it glow.
“There is a price,” she says. “And you will have to pay it.”
“I don’t care, how do I do it! Tell me what to do! I want to give all the spark to Tyse, right now!”
She tilts her head at me. Almost asks me if I’m sure.
But I am, and she knows this.
Suddenly, that tiny bit of spark thread grows thicker. Becomes a stream of blue-white static. Turns into a wave of lightning.
And then, I’m in the arena. Hovering over a fighting Tyse. Winged mutants are throwing themselves at him. One, after the other, after the other.
He’s losing.
But he’s trying.
“Give it to him!” I order Haryet. “I don’t care what the price is, I will pay it!”
“Done.”
Every symbol on my body lights up in unison as lightning cracks through the arena like a writhing serpent. Raw spark hits Tyse in the back. He folds forward, falling to the ground. The spark stream coming from Haryet is as thick as an ancient tree trunk. As volatile as a blazing sun. It pours into him.
But it’s not saving him! Because while he’s on the ground, the flying mutants are still attacking!
“NO!” I scream, pushing both my hands forward into the air.
Spark pours out of me now too, and I hold them off.
Three things happen at once now.
First, Haryet and the factory maidens have emptied all their spark into Tyse, so she retreats. Floating backwards like she’s being pulled by a string. Before I can even comprehend what this means, she’s gone. And the chain of Factory Maidens go with her.
Second, one by one all the glowing symbols on my body begin to extinguish.
It’s not enough!
Having bought him a chance, Tyse is back on his feet, “Clara,” he begs, looking down at his right hand. “Please, please, please…”
“How could it not be enough!” I scream back. “I gave you everything!”
Then, I’m gone. Done. Empty.
My eyes open. I’m strapped to a wall plate made of cold, hard metal. I can’t think. I can’t move.
I can’t do anything because IT’S NOT ENOUGH!
And I don’t know what more he wants from me! I don’t have anything left.
But then, something.
A noise. Clattering.
My head is still strapped down, but my eyes shift just enough to see the cause of this clanking.
His weapon is on the floor, shaking like it’s alive.
Or, more accurately, like it wants to come alive.
Not enough!
Please, please, please.
Tyse looking down at his right hand.
The hand that holds that weapon.
A memory hits me.
Tyse, Anneeta, and me. Escaping from Tau City. He’s holding the Versi. Lasers are targeting eighteen men in a wide arc, at the same time.
He warned them.
“One more step, Stayn. I’m not fuckin’ around.” Tyse is in front of us, that weapon of his pointed at the men who are blocking our way out.
He warned them, not because he wanted to make a threat—but because the Versi acts on its own.
Epsilon, just a little while ago, saying, You know they get buried with those weapons, right? They’re biological.
Not enough!
Please, please, please.
Clara!
Tyse looking down at his right hand.
A revelation. A terrible, gut-wrenching revelation.
It’s not Tyse that needs more spark.
It’s his weapon.
Panic. Pure panic hits me so hard, my heart thumps in my chest. Because I fucked up! I fucked it all up! I gave all the spark to Tyse, not the weapon! And now I have nothing left!
I can’t breathe. I’m dying. Literally dying. Gasping, horrified and heartbroken. I let him down. He was counting on me to understand—to think and act. To have his back.