Partials

“The question about what to do with you is what eventually split us apart,” Samm continued softly. “Some wanted to just finish you off, but most of us, like I said, wanted to save you. Even then, we couldn’t agree on the best way to do it. The arguments grew … heated. To say the least. And then the first wave of our leaders started dying, and it all fell apart. D Company is practically all that’s left of the truly obedient Partials—the only ones with a direct link to the Trust.”

“And what’s the Trust?” asked Kira.

“The senior command,” said Samm, “the generals of the Partial army, and probably from advanced genetic templates, because none of them have died. Well—none of them have died from an inherent expiration date. There were eight of them, men and women, but I think the rebels may have killed two, or at least captured them.” His voice changed as he said this, and his expression grew dark. “It was the Trust that told D Company where to make our base, and when to approach the humans.”

“I’m getting the impression that D Company is relatively small,” said Marcus. “That’s wonderful—we finally form an alliance, and it’s with a persecuted splinter group just as messed up as we are. This’ll make the rest of the Partials even more determined to kill us.”

The engine died again, and this time no amount of yanking and beating and swearing could get it running again. Samm and Marcus took the first turn at the oars, pulling hard toward the shore, and soon the green line became dotted with white: a wide harbor filled with boats. They reached the first line in just half an hour: large yachts anchored far from shore, covered stem to stern with seagull droppings. Kira wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I was hoping to trade up for a new boat, but these are unusable.”

“They’re too big anyway,” said Samm, stowing his oars as their boat bumped gently against the stained hull of another. “We can’t row them, and I assume none of us knows how to sail.” They shook their heads. “At the very least we can stop and look for supplies.”

“Okay,” said Kira, “but not this one. I don’t want us getting … bird flu, or bird diarrhea, or whatever that stuff will give you.”

Samm nodded.

They rowed to the next boat, then the next, working their way farther into the harbor until finally finding a yacht that looked clean enough to board—still filthy, but not as bad, and their options were running out. They maneuvered around to the back, where the name Show Me the Money III was emblazoned across it in faded letters. Marcus gripped the stern while Samm climbed aboard.

“The rest of you wait here,” said Samm. He climbed over and descended into the depths of the yacht, and Marcus leaned close to Kira.

“What do you think?” he whispered. “Do you still trust him?”

“He hasn’t done anything to change my mind,” said Kira.

“Not directly, no,” said Marcus, “but that story was… I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.”

“At least it’s plausible,” said Jayden. “We’ve always wondered why the Partials turned around and left eleven years ago, and why they’ve never attacked us since. If they’re too busy fighting one another to bother with us, that makes a little more sense.”

“I’m still suspicious,” said Marcus. “Something about this place doesn’t feel right.”

Samm emerged with an armload of objects from the yacht. “Bad news,” he said. “According to the boat’s harbor papers, we’re in Echo Bay, not Mamaroneck, which means we’ve gone a lot farther west than I thought. There’s a map here that should help us get back on track.” He handed the items down to Kira, who took them carefully into their boat: a map, a pair of binoculars, a deck of cards, and a pile of clothes and blankets. “I haven’t had a change of clothes since you captured me,” said Samm, stripping off his rumpled uniform. “Plus this yacht is filthy.” Kira couldn’t help but stare at his chest and arms, more chiseled than she would have expected after two weeks of being tied to a chair. She looked away after a second, feeling foolish, while Samm stripped down to his underwear and dove into the water. Marcus glanced at Kira, giving her his You can’t be serious look, but Xochi watched the athletic Partial surface with obvious appreciation. He climbed back into their boat, dried himself as best he could with a blanket, and slipped into a new set of clothes.

Kira unfolded the map, searching the sound for Echo Bay. “You’re right,” she said. “This is a lot farther west than I thought. Where is D Company?”

Samm looked over her shoulder, pointing at a spot along the coast. “Greenwich; like you, we built our city around a hospital. Looks like it’s about twelve, thirteen miles away.”

“That’s not bad,” said Jayden.

“It’s not,” said Samm, “but that route goes through rebel territory, here.” He pointed at a spot about halfway along. “We could search for another boat and try to skirt the coast, but I don’t recommend it. Our engine barely made it here, and I think there’s a storm coming.”