Homecoming

To their credit, Bellamy, Wells, and Sasha didn’t balk when Clarke told them about her parents and how she thought they might’ve known about the radio in Mount Weather. It was crazy, but no crazier than Bellamy and Wells discovering that they were brothers, or Clarke learning that her parents had been on Earth the entire time she’d been mourning their deaths.

Max unlocked the door with a loud click. The door creaked open on old hinges. He stepped aside and held out his arm, signaling for Clarke to enter. She took a hesitant step inside. It was small, no more than three or four people could fit comfortably, and one entire wall was covered with speakers, switches, and dials. The other three walls were hung with various instructional signs. Clarke’s eyes landed on a poster that showed various flags next to long strings of numbers. The labels read:

PARLIAMENT HILL, OTTAWA

CENTER FOR DISEASE CONTROL

10 DOWNING STREET, LONDON

PALACIO NACIONAL, MEXICO CITY

CIA

MI6

KANTEI, TOKYO

KREMLIN, MOSCOW

“When was the last time you tried to send out a signal?” Clarke asked.

“About a month ago,” Max said. “We’re due to try again in a couple of weeks. But honestly, we only do it as routine maintenance, mostly to make sure the equipment is still working. There’s never been so much as a blip, Clarke.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean my parents weren’t onto something. Maybe being in here and using the same equipment they did will help me figure out where they went.”

“Well,” Max said, nodding, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck.”

Clarke walked over to the controls, her hands trembling. To the right, a tall stack of equipment towered over the room. Cables and cords of every color and width poured out of it like tentacles. Clarke ran her hands over the machinery, too afraid to push any one thing. She studied the markings, combinations of letters and numbers she’d never seen before: kHz, km, GHZ, µm.

One switch seemed straightforward enough: It read ON/OFF. Clarke took a deep breath and flicked it up with a snap. She sucked in her breath as the whole apparatus lit up like it had been shocked to life. Lights flashed. Its guts seemed to whir and grind. Clicks and crackles emanated from somewhere deep inside. Then, a low, soft hiss filled the room, growing louder and steadier. It was mesmerizing—the sound of possible life out there, somewhere. Clarke could tell why her parents would have come here. They would have wanted to see for themselves, to hear the vastness of this planet with their own ears. To hear the sound of hope.

She spotted a small drawer under the console. She tugged it open and to her surprise found a small booklet. It was a manual. The pages crackled as she opened it and ran her finger down the instructions.

She could have spent all night in the radio room. She had no idea how much time passed while she pushed buttons, gently nudged dials a millimeter or two in one direction or another. And each time she made the slightest adjustment, the hiss changed, just a tiny bit. It was almost indiscernible, but Clarke could hear it. It was like the subtle distinction between the accent of a Phoenician and a Waldenite. And in each moment, she felt something she never dreamed she’d feel again—the presence of her parents. They had listened to this same endless sound. They had tweaked it and plumbed its depths for hints of a life outside Mount Weather. She just had to spend enough time here to figure out what they had discovered—and where it led them.

By the time Bellamy came to check on her, Clarke was practically giddy with excitement.

“How’s it go—” Before he could finish, she’d ran over and thrown her arms around him, prompting him to laugh and groan all at once as he gave her a one-armed hug.

“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Some doctor, right? Are you okay?”

He grinned. “I’m fine. So, what did you hear on that thing that’s got you so excited?” he asked, gesturing toward the radio equipment.

“Nothing, just empty air,” Clarke said with a huge smile. “It’s amazing!”

Bellamy furrowed his brow in exaggerated confusion. “Uh, I know I’m no scientist or anything, but how is that amazing?”

She swatted his good arm. “The fact that it’s working at all means I have a lead, finally. My parents thought there could have been more people out there”—she waved her hand up at the ceiling, at the world above them—“somewhere. And maybe this radio told them where to go next. I just have to figure out what they discovered. It’s a start at least!”

“Wow,” Bellamy said, beaming at her. “Clarke, that’s incredible.” But then his smile faded as a shadow of worry crossed his face.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a total buzzkill,” he said apologetically. “And I’m really glad you found a lead. But that doesn’t change how dangerous it is out there.”

She grabbed his hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I know. But that’s not going to stop me.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”