The Mother Code Read online

  He pointed up at the barrier. “What’s the good of all this, anyway?”

  “You know as well as I do,” Zak replied. “We need protection. The enemy might be over there.”

  “Listen,” Kai said. He was surprised by his own annoyance as he turned on the boy. “I can see out on that bridge. I can see all along the coast on the other side. There’s no one there. I just don’t understand all this stuff about enemies.”

  “They’re out there. They’re just good at hiding,” Zak said. “Like they did in the desert.”

  Kai clenched his fists in frustration. “Look. You say you saw something in the desert. But I never did. Sela never did. And she went everywhere.”

  “Are you saying I’m lying?” The burly boy dropped his pack, his thick neck and shoulders heaving. Beside him, Chloe clutched his arm in a feeble attempt to calm him.

  Kai stared at the boy. “You saw what you saw. And Chloe did too. But if there’s someone out there, there can’t be many of them. We’ve kept a lookout. We haven’t seen anything more threatening than a few wild dogs. Rosie could take those out, no problem.”

  “So, what do you think is going on?” Zak had his hands on his hips now, his lips set in a thin line.

  “I think . . . I think something’s wrong with our Mothers.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know, how they shut down when we got here? How ever since then, they’ve been different? They turned off our cocoons. They started shooting at everything in sight. And they built up these barricades . . .” Exasperated, Kai waved his arm at the wall of junk. “They never used to be like this out in the desert. At least Rosie wasn’t. Now she doesn’t talk to me at all. I haven’t even seen her today . . .”

  “I have a theory,” Álvaro said, his voice barely audible over the wind.

  “What’s that?” Zak asked.

  “It is possible that our Mothers have been reprogrammed . . .”

  “Reprogrammed?” Kai asked.

  “I have always loved my Mother,” Álvaro said. “But at the same time, I know that her brain is not like mine. Her brain is a computer, and computers can be programmed. It is possible that someone has gained control over our Mothers. Someone has reprogrammed them to bring us here. And to keep us here.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Zak said. “Gamma’s too strong. If someone tried to change her, she’d fight back.”

  Kai scanned the far ridgeline. Someone out there, controlling Rosie? He didn’t buy it either. He couldn’t.

  * * *

  IN A WIDE, paved lot under a sign announcing the “VA Medical Center,” Misha flipped on her satellite map. She was about one and a half miles outside the Presidio. To get there, she’d need to follow a road called “El Camino Del Mar.” This would take her to “Lincoln Boulevard,” the thoroughfare leading directly into the Presidio from the south.

  She kept her eyes straight ahead, ignoring the empty vehicles and vacant windows walling the roadway. She’d never been in a place like this, a city crowded with multicolored buildings nudged one against the other—all gated, all numbered. She knew she had nothing to fear: Mama and Daddy had come from California, they’d once told her. It had been a wonderful place, but now there was no one left. Still she flinched at every sound, the metallic ping of a street sign striking its pole in the wind, the caw of a large black bird, sitting high on a rooftop.

  She picked up her pace. There it was, just ahead. But when she finally reached the sign reading “Lincoln Boulevard,” she found her way barred by a high chain-link fence, its top looped with stiff barbed wire. She knew the pain of that wire, the same nasty stuff William used to keep his sheep from wandering off, and to keep coyotes from wandering in. The fence didn’t just block the road; it ran off to the east and west, as far as she could see.

  She headed west, searching for what her map told her would be the “California Coastal Trail.” And though rutted by wind and weather, the trail was still there, its way along the coast unimpeded as it skirted the high fence. As she hiked north, dense sand crumbled between her toes. To her left, ocean waves struck the shore of a wide beach, white foam announcing their arrival. A strange, unfamiliar mist dampened her hair. She shivered. She couldn’t imagine a place more different from the mesas.

  The trail curved away from the beach, veering upward through a copse of trees. And soon she was once more level with Lincoln Boulevard. It was right there. But the high fence, now skirting the road, still barred entry. Was there no gate, no place where she could cross to the other side?

  Then she saw it. At a spot where the trail had been scoured by rains, a small hollow had formed under the fence. She found a thick branch. Using it as a hoe, she raked aside dead leaves and tore at the hollow until it was just big enough to crawl through. She pushed her pack through first, then followed headfirst on her stomach, squirming like a snake to the other side. Getting to her feet, she brushed the dirt from her clothing and arms. From overhead, she sensed a strange buzzing noise, something like giant hummingbirds hunting in the treetops. It was the Mothers—she was sure of it. She was close. According to her map, this road would eventually curve east. If she stuck to it, she was bound to come upon someone.

  Sure enough, up ahead the boulevard curved right to cut under another, much wider road . . . and she heard something—voices, carried on the wind. Stashing the satellite phone back into her pack, she climbed up an embankment to reach the higher road. There she gathered her nerve for the approach, silently rehearsing the speech she’d planned.

  * * *

  TURNING AWAY FROM the bridge, Kai caught sight of something, someone, approaching along the road from behind the metal gates. “Who’s that?” he said.

  They all watched as a thin, dark form approached. It looked like a girl, someone Kai had never seen before. She made her way carefully around the gates. Arranging her pack across her shoulders, she approached them timidly at first, then with resolution.

  “Thank goodness,” she gasped, coming to a halt in front of them. “You’re here! My Mother said you would be. But I didn’t believe her.”

  The girl’s long, dark hair was pulled neatly behind her ears, secured into a loose braid by a length of twine. Despite the cold, her feet were bare. She wore only a simple sack of a dress, a belt made of colorful beads cinching it in at the waist. Black leggings covered her legs down to the ankles. Her eyes flashed a brilliant green as she appraised them.

  “Hello?” Zak said, taking a step back.

  Kai stood transfixed. Who was this?

  “My name is Misha,” the girl said. One by one, they shook her hand. Smooth and tanned, her arms were thin. But her grip was strong.

  “How . . . how did you get in here?” Chloe asked.

  “In here? Aren’t we outside?” said the girl.

  “She means inside the fence,” Kai said.

  “Fence?”

  “There is a fence all around this place,” Álvaro explained patiently. “None of us can cross it. But here you are . . .”

  “I don’t know what you mean . . .” And with that, the girl began to cry.

  “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, stepping forward to touch her arm. “What happened?”

  “She’s gone,” the girl sobbed. “My Mother just left me here!”

  31

  IN A SPACIOUS room that he called the “dining room,” Kai ushered Misha to a chair. “We figured this was a room for eating,” he said. “It’s right next to what used to be a kitchen, and we can store food on those shelves.” As he pointed toward the narrow anteroom, a crowd of other children filed through the door. First came the children Misha had already met: the thickly muscled boy with sand-colored hair named Zak, the tall, black-haired girl named Chloe, and the small, redheaded boy named Álvaro. Behind them was a ragtag assortment of others.

  “That’s Hiro,” Kai said, pointing to a stocky boy w
ith almond-shaped eyes. “He’s good at cooking. And Clara,” he added, nodding to a wiry, black-skinned girl who had come armed with a bucket and a small trowel. “She’s starting a garden.”

  But Misha’s gaze was focused on the girl with straight brown hair and a friendly smile who had plopped down across from her, planting her elbows on the table. “Misha, this is Sela,” Kai said.

  “That’s a nice necklace,” Sela said.

  Misha’s hand rose to her neck, her fingers brushing the silver necklace that Grandmother had given her. “I found it . . .”

  “I have one too, a blue one. But it’s not nearly as nice as yours,” Sela said. “Yours looks like one of our Mothers.”

  Misha watched the girl’s inquisitive brown eyes. “I thought so too,” she murmured.

  “Kai told me your Mother just left you?” Sela asked. “She just flew away?”

  “There was something wrong with her. But at least she got me here.” Misha glanced nervously toward the far end of the table. There Zak, his arms crossed in front of him, stood glaring at her. Chloe, her glossy hair almost hiding her face, rested her hand reassuringly on his shoulder. And suddenly Misha remembered. The gorge. The black-haired girl. She’d seen Chloe before. In her mind she heard Uncle William’s voice: . . . we must understand. The Mother Spirits are only protecting their children. They can’t know that we mean them no harm. She knew she was one of these children. But she was also something else, a bridge between their world and a world outside that they might be slow to accept.

  “Wow,” Kai said. “Your Mother left you . . . And I thought we had it bad.”

  “Bad? But I thought you were safe . . .”

  “We are safe,” Sela said. “But we can’t leave this place. We can’t get outside that awful fence. We’re stuck. My Mother used to tell me that flying was the most wonderful thing a person could do. Now she won’t even let me sit inside my own cocoon . . .”

  An uneasy feeling rose in the pit of Misha’s stomach. “But why are you ‘stuck’? Why can’t you just leave?”

  “Our Mothers have locked us in. Zak thinks they’re guarding us against an enemy outside,” Kai said. “What do you think? Did you see anything out there?”

  “No . . . Nothing like that . . .”

  “See?” Kai turned to Zak and Chloe.

  Chloe stepped forward, casting a derisive look at Kai. “We saw someone when we were in the desert,” she said. “They drove around in trucks. Then they came back in a flying machine with propellers. My Mother shot at them, but they got away. Meg saw something too. Right, Meg?”

  “I’m not sure . . .” The small girl with curly blond hair who had taken a seat next to Sela spoke softly. “It was dark. I thought I saw lights . . . And I heard something . . . rumbling.”

  “Poor Meg was alone for all that time,” Sela said, wrapping her arm around the timid girl’s shoulders. “But it’s okay. We’re together now.” Beside her, Meg stared down at her lap.

  “I understand,” Misha said. “I was alone too. But now . . .” Strangely, she felt tears springing to her eyes. It was wonderful to meet them. But already she was beginning to realize how little she knew about them.

  “Dinner’s not ready yet . . . But we found rooms on the second floor,” Kai offered. “There are plenty left. You can take one for yourself if you want.”

  Misha stood up, her legs shaky. It had been a long day—the hiking, the uncertainty, and in the end, the discovery. She had thinking to do. She shouldered her pack and followed Kai and Sela up the dark stairs.

  Spotting a room at the front corner, she stopped. “Here would be fine,” she said.

  “Are you sure it’s big enough?” Sela asked. “Meg and I have plenty of space in our room . . .”

  “Oh, no!” Misha said, then looked down at the floor. “I’m used to sleeping alone, I guess.”

  “But not without your Mother,” Sela said. “It’s hard at first.”

  There was an awkward pause before the pair turned to go. “See you later, then,” Kai said. “There’re some supplies in the shed across the field, if you need them.”

  The room was no larger than one of the utility closets at Los Alamos. But it had a window and enough floor space for sleeping. Misha extracted her blanket from her pack. Wrapping it around her, she remembered the comfort of Grandmother’s kiva, the sound of her song. As her spine settled against the wall, her hand drifted up to touch the silver necklace. She supposed it was a part of her now—she’d forgotten it was even there. She whispered the names of the children she’d met, picturing each one’s face in turn. Zak. Chloe. Kai . . . his was a name that William had said two days ago. Rick had repeated it this morning, on the roof. How did they know Kai?

  Once more, she checked her satellite phone. No calls. For all Uncle William and Aunt Loretta knew, she was out camping with Bert and Honovi. If all went well, they wouldn’t discover that she was missing until late tomorrow. She’d been sure that by then, she’d have good news. But now, she wondered.

  She closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate. She’d come with a mission: to find her own brother or sister. And something more. She’d imagined herself the messenger, the one who would return Grandmother’s Silver Spirits to the mesas. But how? If Grandfather’s prophecy was ever to be fulfilled, the Mothers would have to leave here. But Sela had said that the children could no longer ride in their cocoons. Perhaps that meant that the Mothers would have to leave alone . . . But how could they leave their children if that meant abandoning their duty to protect them from the mysterious “enemy” that lurked outside the fence? For the prophecy to come true, would something have to happen to the children? She shuddered.

  Suddenly the door cracked open. “Misha? It’s Kai. Can I come in?”

  She started. “Yes, okay . . .”

  “I thought you might be hungry.” Kai stepped into the room, carrying a small bowl of something that smelled faintly like the bay laurel at Los Alamos. “It’s Hiro’s squirrel stew,” he said. “I really like it. But I should warn you, not everyone does.”

  Misha dug the spoon that Kai offered into the bowl of stew, then touched it to her tongue. It tasted bitter, gamey. But it was satisfying enough.

  Kai grinned. “It’s not the best thing we make. Sela’s fish is the best.”

  “Fish? Where does she get them?”

  “Off the pier. She learned how from Alpha’s database.”

  “Who?”

  “Alpha-C. Her Mother.”

  Misha stared at him. Alpha-C . . . She pictured Sela, the girl with the straight brown hair—like hers. Sela’s eyes, like Grandmother’s. Her flat nose and rounded chin, like Uncle William’s . . .

  “What was your Mother’s name?” Kai asked.

  “Huh . . . ?”

  “My Mother’s name is Rho-Z. But I call her Rosie. What was yours?”

  “Uh . . .” Misha felt the heat blooming up her neck to her ears. Sela’s was the only name she could think of. But then she remembered. “Alpha-B . . .”

  “Alpha-B? Almost like Sela’s!”

  “I guess,” Misha said, grinning sheepishly.

  Kai looked down at his hands, fidgeting with a scratch on his thumb. “I wanted to tell you,” he said. “Your Mother? Don’t worry. She’ll be back.”

  Misha watched the boy carefully. “Why do you think that?”

  “One time when I was little, Rosie left me to chase after a coyote. I was really scared. But she came back. They always do.” Kai looked out the window, his brow furrowed. “Our Mothers . . . whatever happens, they have to protect us.”

  Misha stared at him. He was worried about something. “Kai, I’m not sure my Mother’s coming back . . .”

  Kai met her gaze. “But . . . she has to!” he said, a bit too loud. His face reddening, he returned his attention to his injured thumb. “Well . . . we’ll
see. Anyway, you’ve got us now.”

  “Yes. I’ve got you.” Misha’s lips held a smile. But unwelcome seeds of doubt had already taken root in her mind. Kendra had called the Mothers and their children here to save them. But something else had changed since their arrival—something that had them all on edge.

  32

  STANDING ON THE front porch of Building 100 in the morning fog, Misha watched Sela disappear into a large white building across the field. Mustering her courage, she slipped past two bots stationed near the base of the steps and picked her way through the tall grass.

  As she approached the building, she heard a crashing sound from somewhere along the back wall. “Ouch!” Something that looked like an old baseball bat sailed through the air, landing at her feet. It was followed closely by a leather ball. “It’s got to be here somewhere . . .”

  Misha felt the welcome warmth of familiarity. “Sela?” she called. “Is that you?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “It’s Misha. What’re you looking for?”

  “Chloe said she saw a motorbike in here, but it’s so dark I can’t see a thing!”

  “Here.” Crouching down, Misha pulled a solar light stick from a box near the door. She offered it into the gloom, and a thin arm reached out to grab it.

  “Thanks!” Sela switched on the light stick, and the murky walls of the shed lit up, exposing a sea of cobwebs. “I had a dirt bike in the desert. But we had to leave it behind. It wouldn’t fit in the hold . . . Ah!” What looked like a thick tire, then a pedal, emerged from the shadows as her beam scanned the farthest corner. “It looks more like an old electric bicycle,” she said, dragging it out into view. “But it’s better than nothing.”