Chapter 17 - The Man Who Died Twice
Another figure held a knife.
And behind all of them, four-year-old Lila had drawn a woman lying on the floor.
Nobody spoke.
The crude picture filled the monitor.
Five adults.
One baby.
A woman on the ground.
A red hand.
A knife.
In the upper corner, a child’s yellow sun had been crossed out with black crayon.
Julian leaned closer.
“You drew this when you were four?”
“That’s what the file says.”
“Do you remember it?”
“No.”
Reed looked sick.
That frightened Lila more than the drawing.
“You know what it shows.”
“No.”
“Stop lying.”
“I genuinely don’t.”
“But you recognize something.”
Reed looked toward the figure with the red hand.
Lila noticed.
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
“Who?”
Reed finally answered.
“The red hand was a symbol.”
“For what?”
“Medical personnel were assigned colors inside the early Continuity facilities.”
Amara stepped closer.
“What colors?”
“Blue for genetics. Green for behavioral assessment. White for administration.”
“And red?”
Reed hesitated.
“Termination.”
The word chilled the room.
Lila looked back at her childhood drawing.
One figure had a red hand.
A termination specialist had been present.
“Who is the woman on the floor?”
Reed shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Anna?”
“Possibly.”
Marcus struck the reinforced glass from the other side.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
He looked suddenly serious.
“That drawing was made when Lila was four.”
“So?”
“Anna died the day Lila was born.”
Lila stared at him.
“Then it can’t be a memory of Anna’s murder.”
“Exactly.”
Julian looked at the drawing.
“Unless the dates are wrong.”
Everyone fell silent.
Tonight, birth dates had already changed.
Deaths had been staged.
Identities exchanged.
Medical records forged.
Why should the age written on a drawing be trusted?
Nora enlarged the scanned page.
“There’s something underneath.”
“What?”
“Another image.”
She adjusted the digital contrast.
A faint rectangle appeared beneath the crayon marks.
The drawing had been made on top of another document.
“Can you recover it?”
“Maybe.”
She worked quickly.
Letters emerged.
CONTINUITY OBSERVATION ROOM 4.
Then a date.
Lila calculated.
She would have been approximately four years old.
So that part might be accurate.
Another line appeared:
SESSION PURPOSE: MATERNAL RECOGNITION TEST.
Lila’s stomach tightened.
“Maternal recognition?”
Reed closed his eyes.
Marcus whispered:
“Oh, no.”
Lila turned.
“What?”
Marcus stepped closer to the glass.
“They showed you women.”
“What women?”
“Potential maternal matches.”
“Why?”
“To see which face you recognized.”
Helena covered her mouth.
Lila looked toward the five figures in the drawing.
“Were Helena and Victoria there?”
Marcus nodded.
“Probably.”
“Who else?”
“I don’t know.”
The recovered document revealed another line.
SUBJECT L-1 PRESENTED WITH FIVE LIVE CANDIDATES.
Live.
Five women had stood before four-year-old Lila.
One of them might have been her mother.
“Results?”
Nora scrolled through the damaged data.
Most of it was corrupted.
Then:
SUBJECT REJECTED CANDIDATES 1–4.
Lila’s heart accelerated.
“And candidate five?”
Nora searched.
A final fragment appeared.
CANDIDATE 5 PRODUCED IMMEDIATE RECOGNITION RESPONSE.
The room became silent.
“Name?”
Deleted.
“Photograph?”
Deleted.
Lila looked toward Reed.
“Who was candidate five?”
“I wasn’t present.”
“Who would know?”
Reed hesitated.
“David.”
Of course.
David again.
Always one step ahead.
Always carrying the missing piece.
Nora suddenly pointed toward the bottom of the recovered page.
“There’s a handwritten note.”
The image sharpened.
The handwriting was David’s.
Lila recognized it from the impossible marriage contract.
DO NOT LET RICHARD SEE THE RESULT.
Lila looked toward Richard.
He had gone pale.
“You saw it anyway.”
“No.”
“You’re afraid.”
Richard said nothing.
“Who was candidate five?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
For once, Lila wasn’t sure.
Richard’s fear seemed real, but perhaps the fear was precisely that he had never learned the answer.
A security alarm interrupted them.
Nora checked the monitor.
“David’s remote connection is gone.”
“He finished deleting the files?”
“Most.”
“Can we recover them?”
“Possibly from backups.”
“Where?”
Reed answered:
“Zurich.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Box 731?” Lila asked.
“No.”
Reed shook his head.
“The Continuity mirror server.”
“Where?”
“Beneath Marlowe Private Bank.”
Julian exhaled.
“So we’re going to Zurich after all.”
Lila looked toward the exterior camera.
Marcus remained inside the isolation chamber.
“You’re coming.”
Marcus smiled.
“I assumed.”
“And Richard.”
Richard looked irritated.
“You don’t command me.”
Lila held up the Continuity custodian tablet.
“Apparently I command eighteen billion dollars, eighty-three liberated subjects, several facilities, and enough evidence to put you in prison for the rest of your life.”
She stepped closer.
“So tonight, I’m experimenting with confidence.”
Julian smiled.
“I like it.”
She glanced at him.
“Don’t encourage me.”
“Too late.”
Helena watched them.
Something unreadable crossed her face.
Not disapproval.
Concern.
Lila noticed but did not ask.
There were already too many truths waiting.
They left the Continuity facility before dawn.
The eighty-three former subjects could not simply be abandoned.
Lila ordered three nearby Continuity-owned residences opened immediately. Amara assembled medical teams from physicians she personally trusted. Grant organized security.
Nora refused to leave Lila.
“So you’re coming to Zurich?” Lila asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I know the system.”
“That isn’t the whole reason.”
Nora hesitated.
“I want to see outside.”
Lila looked at her.
“Zurich is an ambitious first outing.”
“I’ve seen photographs.”
“That’s not the same.”
“I know.”
Lila smiled faintly.
“Then come.”
Alexander chose to stay.
“These people know me,” he said, looking toward the released subjects. “Some of them are terrified.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“That’s why I should stay.”
Lila hugged him unexpectedly.
Alexander froze.
Then awkwardly returned it.
“Are we actually siblings?” he whispered.
“I have no idea.”
He laughed.
“Good.”
“What?”
“Then I don’t have to understand how siblings are supposed to behave.”
“Neither do I.”
They separated.
Before Lila left, Eva found her.
The child wore borrowed jeans and a yellow sweater.
“Are you going outside?”
“Yes.”
“Will you come back?”
The question struck harder than expected.
Adults had been promising Lila that all night.
People left.
People disappeared.
People died and returned.
She crouched.
“Yes.”
Eva studied her.
“You promise?”
Lila thought carefully.
“I promise I will try very hard.”
Eva nodded.
Apparently that answer was acceptable.
Then she held out a folded piece of paper.
“For you.”
Lila opened it.
A drawing.
Blue sky.
Green grass.
A yellow sun.
And two figures holding hands.
One large.
One small.
“Is that us?”
Eva nodded.
“You said you’d show me the sky.”
Lila swallowed.
“I will.”
She folded the drawing carefully and put it inside her coat.
Six hours later, they were aboard a Continuity-owned aircraft heading toward Switzerland.
Lila sat beside the window.
Julian took the seat across from her.
Helena and Elias sat several rows back.
Amara monitored Elias continuously.
Samuel and Sebastian occupied opposite ends of the cabin, apparently having decided that brotherly reconciliation could wait.
Victoria remained under guard.
Richard was restrained.
Marcus sat beside him.
Neither man looked happy about the arrangement.
Nora had spent the first twenty minutes staring through the aircraft window.
Then she whispered:
“It’s beautiful.”
Lila looked.
Clouds stretched beneath them.
“First flight?”
“First anything.”
Lila understood.
Julian placed a tablet between them.
“We need to decide what we’re doing when we land.”
“Opening box 731.”
“After that.”
“We find David.”
“And Claire.”
“And the original Silent Echo.”
Julian nodded.
“Then?”
Lila looked toward the clouds.
“I want my life back.”
Julian was quiet.
Finally he said:
“I don’t think either of us has the old version anymore.”
She looked at him.
“What do we do with the new one?”
“Build it ourselves.”
Their eyes held for a moment.
Lila felt something unfamiliar.
Dangerous in a completely different way.
She looked away first.
“You’re becoming less irritating.”
Julian leaned back.
“High praise.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
A faint smile.
Then Helena appeared beside them.
“Can I speak to Lila?”
Julian immediately stood.
“Of course.”
He moved away.
Helena sat.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Helena said:
“You trust him.”
Lila looked toward Julian.
“He’s been useful.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
Lila frowned.
“What are you worried about?”
“The contract.”
“The fake childhood marriage?”
“It may not be fake.”
“We’re not married.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
Helena lowered her voice.
“David would never have signed something like that without a reason.”
“What reason?”
“I don’t know.”
Lila sighed.
“You really don’t?”
“No.”
She believed her.
Helena continued.
“But if David chose Julian as your priority successor before either of you could speak…”
She looked toward him.
“He knew something about Julian.”
“What?”
“That’s what worries me.”
Before Lila could answer, the cabin lights flickered.
Everyone looked up.
The aircraft tilted slightly.
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom.
“Remain seated.”
Julian returned immediately.
“What happened?”
A second tilt.
Sharper.
Nora gripped her armrest.
“Is this normal?”
“No,” Lila said.
The pilot spoke again.
“We have lost primary navigation.”
Grant stood.
“Electronic interference?”
The cockpit door opened.
The copilot emerged.
His face was pale.
“Someone has taken remote control of the flight-management system.”
Julian stared.
“That’s possible?”
“On this aircraft, apparently.”
Marcus laughed from the rear.
Everyone turned.
“What?” Lila demanded.
He shook his head.
“You people really should stop using Continuity property.”
The aircraft banked violently.
Nora screamed.
Lila grabbed her seat.
“Can the pilots regain control?”
“They’re trying.”
The tablet on the table suddenly activated by itself.
A video appeared.
David Marlowe.
Live.
Lila knew because he looked directly toward something off-camera and then back.
“Lila.”
She stared.
“David?”
Helena stood.
“David!”
His expression changed when he saw her.
For one second, all the calculation disappeared.
“Helena.”
“You’re alive.”
“So are you.”
Her eyes filled.
“Where are you?”
“Blackwood House.”
Lila leaned toward the tablet.
“Did you take control of the plane?”
“Yes.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you cannot go to Zurich.”
Lila stared at David.
“You told me the truth was there.”
“It is.”
“Then why stop me?”
“Because Richard wants you to open the mirror server.”
Richard laughed softly behind them.
David heard it.
“You brought him.”
“He’s necessary.”
“That is what he wanted you to believe.”
Lila looked toward Richard.
“What?”
Richard smiled.
David continued.
“Box 731 does not require Richard’s blood.”
Helena stared at Richard.
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
Julian grabbed him.
“What does it require?”
Richard said nothing.
David answered through the tablet.
“Lila’s blood.”
Her stomach tightened.
“And?”
“The blood of her biological mother.”
Silence.
Everyone looked toward Victoria.
David shook his head.
“Not Victoria.”
Helena?
Again, David shook his head.
“Not Helena.”
Lila leaned closer.
“Then who?”
“That is why you cannot open the box yet.”
“You know who she is.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
David closed his eyes.
“I promised Anna I never would.”
Lila’s anger exploded.
“Anna isn’t my mother!”
David’s eyes opened.
He looked stunned.
“How do you know?”
“Marcus.”
David’s expression changed.
He looked past the camera as though recalculating everything.
“Marcus is alive?”
Marcus leaned into view.
“Miss me?”
David’s face hardened.
“You bastard.”
“Good to see you too.”
Lila interrupted.
“Who is candidate five?”
David became completely still.
There.
She had found the right question.
“You know.”
David said nothing.
“Four-year-old me recognized one woman.”
Silence.
“Who was she?”
David whispered:
“Where did you find that record?”
“Answer me.”
“I can’t.”
“Then give the pilots control.”
“No.”
“David.”
His face softened.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Lila almost laughed.
“That sentence should be engraved on the family crest.”
Julian muttered:
“I’d vote for it.”
David ignored him.
“Turn the plane around.”
“No.”
“Lila.”
“Either tell me who candidate five was, or we continue to Zurich.”
David stared at her.
Then toward Helena.
Something painful passed across his face.
Finally he said:
“Candidate Five was your biological mother.”
Lila’s heart pounded.
“Name.”
David closed his eyes.
“Margaret Thorne.”
Silence.
Elias stood so quickly Amara shouted at him.
“No.”
Lila stared at David.
“Margaret raised Elias.”
“Yes.”
“She would have been old enough to be my grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“Then how—”
“Stored reproductive material.”
Reed’s experiments.
The Thorne line.
Lila felt sick.
“So Victoria carried an embryo created using Margaret Thorne’s ovum?”
David shook his head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
David looked directly at her.
“Margaret carried you herself.”
Silence swallowed the aircraft.
Elias whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
David continued.
“She was fifty-two.”
“No.”
“She volunteered.”
Elias stared at the screen.
“She never told me.”
“She couldn’t.”
Lila struggled to breathe.
“Then Victoria’s pregnancy?”
“Another child.”
“Anna?”
“Another cover.”
“Helena?”
“No.”
Lila gripped the table.
“Why?”
David’s eyes filled.
“Because Margaret was dying.”
Elias looked shattered.
“Of what?”
“Cancer.”
He remembered.
Lila could see it.
Margaret had died when Lila was an infant.
The timeline fit.
Lila whispered:
“So the woman who raised Elias…”
“Was the woman who gave birth to you.”
“Using whose embryo?”
David became silent again.
Lila nearly screamed.
“WHOSE?”
David looked toward Julian.
That made everyone turn.
Julian’s expression changed.
“Why are you looking at me?”
David said:
“Because one half came from Margaret.”
“And the other?”
David swallowed.
“From Gabriel Vale.”
Julian’s biological father.
The real Gabriel.
Which meant Lila and Julian shared paternal genetic material?
No.
Lila calculated.
If Gabriel fathered Julian naturally and contributed genetic material to Lila’s embryo—
They were biological half siblings.
The entire cabin went silent.
Lila slowly looked at Julian.
The fragile emotional tension between them died instantly beneath horror.
Julian stepped backward.
“No.”
Helena covered her mouth.
David continued urgently:
“That is why the marriage contract matters.”
Lila stared at him.
“Someone planned to marry biological siblings?”
“No.”
David shook his head.
“The contract was designed to prevent it.”
“What?”
“If either of you attempted legal marriage, the Continuity system would trigger mandatory genetic verification and expose the truth.”
Lila understood.
The marriage contract was not matchmaking.
It was a trap.
A safeguard.
David had known they might someday be pushed together for inheritance consolidation.
He had built a system that would reveal their biological relationship first.
Julian sat down slowly.
Lila could not look at him.
David continued.
“I’m sorry.”
Then Marcus began laughing.
Not softly.
Loudly.
Everyone turned.
Lila’s anger flared.
“What is funny?”
Marcus wiped his eyes.
“David.”
He shook his head.
“You still believe Reed’s embryo records.”
David stared through the screen.
“What?”
Marcus leaned toward the tablet.
“Gabriel Vale was sterile.”
Silence.
Helena froze.
David’s face emptied.
Marcus continued:
“He couldn’t have fathered Julian.”
Julian looked up.
“And he couldn’t have contributed viable material for Lila.”
Lila stared.
David whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Marcus smiled.
“That’s the one truth I know because Gabriel was my son.”
The cabin went silent again.
David looked shaken for the first time.
“Then who…”
Marcus’s smile disappeared.
“That’s what Anna discovered.”
Lila’s pulse accelerated.
“Discovered what?”
Marcus looked at her.
“That every paternity record involving Gabriel Vale was fabricated.”
“By whom?”
Marcus turned slowly toward Nathaniel Reed.
Reed had gone completely pale.
Julian stood.
“You.”
Reed shook his head.
“No.”
Marcus smiled.
“Not Reed.”
“Then who?”
Marcus looked toward Richard.
Richard stopped smiling.
“The man who ordered Reed to falsify them.”
Lila stared at Richard.
“Who was Julian’s real father?”
Richard said nothing.
Julian grabbed him.
“WHO?”
Richard’s eyes moved toward Helena.
She recoiled.
“No.”
Julian saw it.
“What?”
Richard whispered:
“You.”
Julian froze.
Helena stared at Richard.
“What are you saying?”
Richard smiled with pure cruelty.
“Tell him, Helena.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Tell me what?” Julian demanded.
Richard looked directly at him.
“Gabriel Vale wasn’t your father.”
“Then who was?”
Richard leaned closer.
“Elias Thorne.”
The cabin fell silent.
Lila looked toward Elias.
Helena looked as though she might collapse.
Elias whispered:
“No.”
Richard smiled.
“You really never knew?”
Elias stared at Helena.
“Is Julian my son?”
Helena’s lips trembled.
And after a terrible silence, she answered:
“Yes.”